There are few instances in which I would admit this, but for the purpose of my argument, this confession might actually increase my credibility as a writer (and occasions such as these are rare, I’m sure you’ll understand): I am, take a deep breath, an English Literature and History of Art student.
Admitting the latter subject opens me up to a torrent of ridicule from those who are firm believers in their own degree as “stronger”, “more employable” or “less woolly”. But, as you might expect, studying “colouring in” (oh wait, that’s Geography) has left me with more than a little time on my hands. With levels of procrastination having reached new, dizzying heights I visited the Heslington East campus earlier this week.
Arriving in the wasteland, dismounting the bus, and, once I’d managed to tear my eyes away from the rolling tumble-weed that acts as entertainment for residents and visitors alike, I put on my glasses (yes, they are thick-rimmed) before taking a good look at the buildings before me. In my humble and vaguely arty opinion, Heslington East is an ugly, ugly place.
Oh sure, it might lure you in with the promise of brightly coloured panels and ‘edgy’ stained glass, but that doesn’t mean anyone actually wants to spend time there. I imagine most residents on Hes East are not-so-secretly pining for the broken-windowed metal-sinked rooms of Derwent, and most Computer Science and Law students’ eyes are subject to an unflattering squint. Not from staring at screens all day or pouring over textbooks – but from gazing over to the other campus with wistful expressions on their pretty little faces and before making the fateful mistake of looking directly at their own Heslington East buildings without the necessary protection of, well, closing your eyes.
After all, the brand new buildings are something of an eyesore. One of them has been painted a rather putrid shade that can, at best, be called salmon. And the “Hub”? That’s definitely covered in wood chip panels and aluminium – a material I thought was intended for oven-wrapping such fish.
Heslington West, on the other hand, is exactly what a university should be. It’s grey. It’s grimy. Its buildings are utterly oppressive and completely miserable. “The perfect learning environment!” I hear you chorus. Why would you want to learn in a hipster, multi-coloured, post-apocalyptic shed when you could sit in Central Hall during January exams and have to be moved because the ceiling is leaking onto you and your paper during the torrential downpour?
History, that’s why. I do in fact believe that Hes West, while it might not be pretty, is important to our university. Obviously, it’s an “excellent demonstration of the CLASP architectural movement” as well as a “wonderfully angular prefabricated structure” etc etc. But, it’s the whispers of “It won’t be long ‘til everything’s on Hes East” and the discussions in hushed tones of how “the old campus will be pulled down” that fill me with horror. It may not be conventionally beautiful and it may well be asbestos-filled, but to abandon, or worse, demolish Heslington West would be to destroy crucial buildings constructed within an important architectural movement as well as a fundamental part of our University’s history. Clearly, no one has ever smiled while on Hes East, yet Hes West is the home to thousands of graduates’ happier memories.
Let me get all history-of-art on you now. (wait! Keep reading!) I believe that in creating an ultra-modern second campus, the mighty ‘They’ are shooting themselves in the foot once again. It seems to me that Hes East, in the same way Hes West was in the 1960s, is yet another set of buildings that, in being bang on trend, will also become dated.
I think we should embrace the ‘60s architecture. In the same way that I secretly like flared jeans and audio cassettes, I think our University’s original architecture is, dare I say it, actually quite nice. Or, at the very least, important. Don’t be so hard on Hes West; after all, Central Hall now looks like a cream spaceship rather than a grey one. Much better after the revamp, I’m sure you’ll agree. So join my campaign society and put a SOC in it (Save Our Campus, obviously).