Foundry Lane is
interesting for the way it separates yet binds Soho Foundry and the Black
Patch. The road can be understood as a spine, which both connects and
separates: that which is on the left is very much connected to that which
is on the right, but the two sides are distinct in their placement and
detail, as is the thing that runs between them. The road and its flanks
are three distinct yet inseparable entities, just as Smethwick and its
flanks - the Black Country and Birmingham - are three distinct yet
inseparable entities.
The
road is flanked by industrial glory along one side, including Avery
Weigh-tronix (Avery Berkel) on the site of the former Soho Foundry, and by
open space on the other, including the Black Patch (park, allotment,
wasteland). Avery/Soho Foundry and the Black Patch are connected in ways
that are similar to connections between Birmingham and the Black Country.
These connections are physical and social, economic and historical, and
are blurred in some instances while sharply defined in others.
In
the case of Birmingham and the Black Country, distinctions are physical
and social, while connections are historical and economic. Along Foundry
Lane, distinctions are also physical and social, connections are also
historical and economic. The road itself physically separates the two
spaces even though it is important to the history of both sides. Physical
distinctions also separate left and right sides: factories largely occupy
one side and open space largely occupies the other. But history connects
the two. Both are products of industrial processes.
One
side of the road is largely built up and industrial and the other side is
largely knocked down and pastoral. These are differences which tend to
separate the glorious industrial history from the not-so-glorious domestic
history. But both histories are connected by the people who worked in the
factories, played in the open space and lived in the houses that once
stood along Foundry Lane, Kitchener Street and Perrott Road.
These
histories, like the road and its flanks, are distinct yet connected. The
industrial is distinct from the social, yet the two are inseparable,
connected by people and place. Running through the place is Foundry Lane.
Running through the history are people. The road creates and occupies a
space that is partly industrial glory and partly open space, connected yet
distinct. The road is part of the space and the history while while also a
thing unto itself. The road, the history, the people are distinct, yet
inseparable.
Just as Smethwick occupies a special place
between the two regional entities, Foundry Lane takes in both
the industrial glory of Boulton and Watt's Soho Foundry and the
notorious and much-derided Black Patch. A stark contrast in
reputation separates the two places, yet both came into
existence simultaneously and symbiotically — each partly
dependent on the other, and both dependent on the road, the canal, the
railways, the town of Birmingham and the villages of the Black
Country.
This quality of
between-ness makes travel along Foundry Lane an adventure in
past, present and future, as history gives way to dereliction and
regeneration, as factories and open space face each other across
the road, as one set of contrasts turns into another. The space
contains these contrasts without blurring them. It shows that
twilight zones are not necessarily about blurring of bondaries,
but of unexpected and disorienting juxtapostions.
Each twist in the road brings some surprise, whether
it's a skip lorry careening around the bend, a sudden vista
of mature plane trees and wide, grassy parkland, or
serene 1930s maisonettes with Art Deco details juxtaposed with
the wreckage of former industrial might. A closer look reveals
layer upon layer of changes: name changes, population change,
boundary changes, industrial change, social change. Foundry Lane has been
and continues to be a place of changes: the maisonettes will be
knocked down, a spine road will be run through the allotments
and the park, the old factories will be levelled and replaced
with aluminium sheds, the current 'notorious' tenants will move
out and new 'upmarket' ones will move in. Yet these changes will
be on the back of what came before. The place might be wiped
clean, but the layers of history and connections will continue
to accumulate.
At
this point we might ask what the future holds. I think the
answer depends partly on that which has already happened. Where
is it going? Where did it start? Is there a trajectory, a line
of flight? These questions are not easily answered. There
are clues, but so far, nothing conclusive. If we look at maps from
various points in time, we can get an idea of how things developed:
of how this part of Smethwick went from manorial heath lands to one
of the most heavily industrialised plant in the world — and how
that shapes its future. Let's start with an 1830 map, just because
it's to hand. There are earlier maps, not very detailed, but
evocative, perhaps even indicative of patterns
which become evident later.