The Flying Shuttle
I took a trip up to the Flying Shuttle pub in Farnworth one lunch time last week to take an image of it's recently amended sign for my Graffiti project. The pub was recently dubbed, "The Toughest Pub in Britain" and this intrigued me more.
As I turned up a lady in pyjamas walked by and my photographic senses tingled. Whilst she bought her breakfast from the chip shop I waited for her to walk by again whilst I measured the pub up. I like places like this, mainly for photographic reasons but it also feels like a step back in time, back to a time when life was very real, often too real, it's like the difference between the Sweeney and Lewis. The woman came out off the chippy and I photographed her from behind.
Whilst I walked around the perimeter of the pub I noticed that a huge proportion of the litter consisted of discarded lottery scratch cards, was this a sign of the times?
Whilst I took my final images of the pub I heard a shout, "Leave that pub alone you". A couple came walking up to me, she pushing a pram with two large tattooed breasts and he carrying a plastic bag containing cans of beer. "You're from the Manchester Evening News aren't you? When are they opening it up again?". This was a slightly more submissive statement than the previous one so I was confident that they didn't mean harm. I didn't confirm whether I was from the MEN or not and simply asked, "So what was the pub like before it got shut down?"
As it happens the woman used to work at the pub. She went on to say that in the weeks leading up to it's closure it was full of dog and cat shit and the back of the pub was full of rotten food and home to maggots. The newspapers put the blame on the clientele, the locals blamed the management.
As I was talking to the couple a 9 year old boy passed by on his scooter smoking a cigarette, Cartier Bresson would have been fuming!
As I turned up a lady in pyjamas walked by and my photographic senses tingled. Whilst she bought her breakfast from the chip shop I waited for her to walk by again whilst I measured the pub up. I like places like this, mainly for photographic reasons but it also feels like a step back in time, back to a time when life was very real, often too real, it's like the difference between the Sweeney and Lewis. The woman came out off the chippy and I photographed her from behind.
Whilst I walked around the perimeter of the pub I noticed that a huge proportion of the litter consisted of discarded lottery scratch cards, was this a sign of the times?
Whilst I took my final images of the pub I heard a shout, "Leave that pub alone you". A couple came walking up to me, she pushing a pram with two large tattooed breasts and he carrying a plastic bag containing cans of beer. "You're from the Manchester Evening News aren't you? When are they opening it up again?". This was a slightly more submissive statement than the previous one so I was confident that they didn't mean harm. I didn't confirm whether I was from the MEN or not and simply asked, "So what was the pub like before it got shut down?"
As it happens the woman used to work at the pub. She went on to say that in the weeks leading up to it's closure it was full of dog and cat shit and the back of the pub was full of rotten food and home to maggots. The newspapers put the blame on the clientele, the locals blamed the management.
As I was talking to the couple a 9 year old boy passed by on his scooter smoking a cigarette, Cartier Bresson would have been fuming!
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| "The Lying Slut" |
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| "The Flying Shuttle Pub" |
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| "Woman in Pyjamas" |
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