Reservoir Dogs and Blocked Bogs: The legacy of Manchester’s Cornerhouse
For some reason or other, Bob Scott – a business head with one hand in Olympic bidding and the other in amateur dramatics – had taken a keen interest in those two wildly-opposed buildings that still flank Manchester’s Oxford Road Station.
This was 1985, and not only were these structures opposite in locale, but in style and function too. On the left, Shaw’s furniture store, an Edwardian-era build complete with stonework laurels and turreted parapets traded tables and chairs. Adjacent, Tatler’s Cinema Club, the 1910s edifice with Art Deco add-ons, reeled off the latest Hollywood blockbusters and occasional rude film. Despite their differences, old Bob saw that both were united for one sole purpose: to give the city its first specialised centre of film and visual arts.
Cornerhouse (not to be confused with The Cornerhouse in Nottingham) was to comprise several floors of gallery space, three cinemas of varying sizes and a bookshop split across the two venues, with a bar-cum-coffee shop taking centre stage in the former Tatler’s building. Plans were finalised, renovations set underway, and before the year was out, Cornerhouse was a-go.
The curated roster showcased an array of arthouse films, world cinema, reruns and a host of productions suited for avant-garde tastes, not to mention regular exhibits and an artist development programme that became coveted far and wide. Damien Hirst, a twenty-something art-world revolutionary with an insatiable appetite for butterflies and dirty ashtrays, displayed his first ever private show In and Out of Love at the venue in the early 90s, and by the turn of the millennia, a decorated crew of established artists, including painter and poet Tracy Emin, were teaching droves of students that there’s actually a method to slinging paint on a canvas. On top of that, Cornerhouse’s musical rolodex proved expansive, with EDM aficionado Mr. Scruff and punk-funk rockers Biting Tongues nabbing frequent guest slots.
Before long, the place had earned a reputation for spotlighting the crème de la crème of independent cinema, as well as platforming mid-level artists and filmmakers who lacked formal representation. The little picture house on the corner was responsible for forging many a household name, arguably the most prolific being Quentin Tarantino, who premiered his debut film Reservoir Dogs there.
What started out as a mere string to his professional bow snowballed into something that Scott himself hadn’t anticipated. The niche-in-the-market venture morphed into a cultural phenomenon, with half a million visitors enjoying a broad scope of highbrow entertainment each year. Word of the illustrious theatre boarded planes and transcended borders, and soon, Cornerhouse adopted an air of celebrity that saw A-list patrons float, sometimes anonymously, among the unrelenting flurry of local visionaries.
Within its first few years, Cornerhouse had firmly established itself as a Manchester main-stay, achieving public renown that even the likes of David Chipperfield couldn’t ignore. Thirteen years after casting open its doors, the starchitect was contracted to improve the street presence of the pictures’ right-hand wing. Bolstered with the knowledge of Cornerhouse’s social importance, he transformed the awkwardly oriented frontage into a back-lit, glass-blocked modernist fancy, with a changeable title board that exuded 1950s Americana.
Now, architecture enthusiasts may know that Cornerhouse was once the only British building touched by Chipperfield’s design prowess, but it wasn’t this little-known fact that got people talking upon the 1998 remodel. Alongside the cosmetic snagging, the café-bar - popular amongst weekend revellers grabbing a drink before heading to Whitworth Street clubbing institutions - was wrapped in a glass curtain wall, exposing the bustling (and often boozy) scene inside. It was this, the goldfish bowl-esque display of casual drinkers, beacon-like in its illumination, that threw Manchester residents into a real tizz.
Accustomed to the dark-innards and frosted glass of traditional pubs and clubs, locals seemed to hold sacred the Victorian stance concerning minors witnessing alcohol consumption. As a consequence, passersby dubbed Cornerhouse as a bit of a ‘poser’s paradise’; a place for egomaniacs and hipsters alike. In spite of a disgruntled few, many believed the new façade played an integral role in reinventing modern bar culture up and down the country. For many, the fresh look further solidified Cornerhouse as a vortex of visual stimulation, a voguish passing place and an intrinsic thread of the city’s cultural fabric.
As the years went on, however, the bones of the buildings started to creak. Ushers more frequently mopped away the aftermath of burst pipes moments before a big screening, and an unsourced ‘carnal’ smell periodically emanated from the server room for months on end. Despite its archaic plumbing systems and rundown facilities, Cornerhouse still maintained much of its original spirit. It wasn’t just the beer-sloshed lino that kept employees sticking around for years on end, but the vibrant, convivial atmosphere cultivated over three decades of curated events and decent film. It was often described as a place with its own magnetic field and, despite its slow descent into disrepair, a cool hangout where many a discerned artist loitered.
On the closing credits to David Lynch’s ‘Blue Velvet’ followed by a knees-up celebrating 30 years, Cornerhouse shut in 2015. Thanks to a cool £19m cash injection, the arts organisation rebranded to what is now recognised at HOME, its ethos and loyal entourage migrating to the landmark location on First Street, which remains one of the biggest independent cinemas in the UK to date.
There’s no doubt that the indigenous Cornerhouse holds architectural and cultural significance like few other community spaces in recent history. That being said, all good things come to an end and Cornerhouse was no exception. Former employees and the thousands of film-frequenters from its heyday reminisce about the old place fondly, always fortified with a tale to tell and a nostalgic glint in their eye. The much-loved underground arts centre laid the groundwork for its gargantuan successor which promises many more years of quality arts and culture to come.
