On Tidmarsh Lane, just beyond the Registry office, the Beton Brut of Macclesfield House (which the current owners have tried and failed to have knocked down with a 21st Century glass thingy) drifts out into the verge with a series of defensive planters before-the-fact, though honestly you'd struggle to dent that massive wall, or reach the tiny, solid windows through it (maybe it was the demolition bill estimate that gave the redevelopment pause).
With County Hall, and the now very much redeveloped Westgate Centre, these buildings were a slabby, utilitarian, defiantly future-orientated retort to the tourist chocolate box aesthetic that dominates the city centre. Late 60s, shading into the flashiness of early 70s, they featured futuristic details like travelators and geodisic domes, secret gardens and innovative utility systems.
They were also built to last, as were these planters, that aren't really maintained any more, but still look pretty fabulous. This one holds a fig:
This one some kind of hardy Lonerica that honestly may be struggling a bit:
This one has lost its shrubs, but gained a scraggle of Michaelmas Daisies, along with the rubbish from the people who can't tell a planter from a rubbish bin.
The steady rewilding of these planters (for that is what is happening here) is periodically interrupted by a stealthy daff , tulip or sunflower from one of Oxford's plentiful guerrilla gardeners. A stealthy green outcreep surrounds them as soil washes out slowly through the drainage holes. Central Oxford is weeded, but this may just be beyond the reach of the hoes and the weed-torches; or it may count as Macclesfield House, and therefore be caught in a state of uncertain maintenance as these planters probably aren't crucial to incubating businesses, which is what the building is doing now.
With County Hall, and the now very much redeveloped Westgate Centre, these buildings were a slabby, utilitarian, defiantly future-orientated retort to the tourist chocolate box aesthetic that dominates the city centre. Late 60s, shading into the flashiness of early 70s, they featured futuristic details like travelators and geodisic domes, secret gardens and innovative utility systems.
They were also built to last, as were these planters, that aren't really maintained any more, but still look pretty fabulous. This one holds a fig:
This one some kind of hardy Lonerica that honestly may be struggling a bit:
This one has lost its shrubs, but gained a scraggle of Michaelmas Daisies, along with the rubbish from the people who can't tell a planter from a rubbish bin.
The steady rewilding of these planters (for that is what is happening here) is periodically interrupted by a stealthy daff , tulip or sunflower from one of Oxford's plentiful guerrilla gardeners. A stealthy green outcreep surrounds them as soil washes out slowly through the drainage holes. Central Oxford is weeded, but this may just be beyond the reach of the hoes and the weed-torches; or it may count as Macclesfield House, and therefore be caught in a state of uncertain maintenance as these planters probably aren't crucial to incubating businesses, which is what the building is doing now.
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