The offices of the Adelphi Wharf development were located in two storeys of stacked beige containers near outerwall of what used to be an iron works. The site is now designated Farmer Norton Carpark. The 19th century factory appears to have slipped into a state of ruination, starting in the 1980’s. All that remains today the factory floor, a terrain so dense that only the most determined vegetation attaches itself to the surface or grows upwards from the soil below the stone and concrete. The project office closed recently and the containers are now available for rent.
The level section of the factory site is covered in aggregate to facilitate parking for construction workers, but the aggregate layer has been displaced revealing a floorplan of grids and rectangles, slabs and fine herringbone flooring in redbrick, many types of concrete and rusted steel plant tracks. Brown water collects in dips and pockets of land, some joining together like tidal pools. One corner of the site is surrounded by a motley collection of edging stones, some disturbed, to prevent parking on this section of higher, less stable ground. A sign forbids parking, should physical barriers not be enough of a deterrent. Around this section of land an intense mosaic, a treasure trove of diachronic fragments has formed of its own accord. There are base notes of limestone, sandstone and concrete, tainted with the powdered terracotta of degraded brick and overlaid with more intact slivers of the same material and the odd shard of weathered glass. Colourful accents are provided by jade and bright yellow diamonds of broken ceramic tiles and larger sections of blonde resin. Intermittently it is possible to discover a piece of cutlery – flimsy takeaway things in aluminium or plastic, crisp packets, drinking mug handles, builders gloves and broken umbrellas.
Across the road on the other side of what remains of the factory wall, is the Adelphi Wharf development. The hoarding around the site promises Elite City Living. On the coffee table in the advertising image of a model apartment is a pile of three books, spines facing the viewer: Van Gogh, The Home Concepts Book and a black volume with slightly pixelated text called The Real Beauty of Love. Another image shows an overview of the complex, which captures a section of the river all for itself.
Between building E01 and building D02 is a view of two council tower blocks set against the backdrop of a dense white cumulonimbus cloud. The mauve-tending oily pink skin of Thorn is a misty echo of the purple Sinat Weather Defence insulation panels on the Adelphi Wharf buildings in progress. Rain falls inside the unglazed windows and gushes down the standpipes that pierce the concrete shell of the six storey buildings from the roof to the first floor. Then it falls free into the covered courtyards of glistening earth compacted by construction workers boots and vehicle tyres, where it starts to collect in clay pools. Raindrops clink with silvery tones, drawing attention to the metalwork turrets lacing the floors together. Rivulets discover secret courses from roof to ground, and glisten whilst they begin their assault on the building. When the rain and hail stops, the buildings continue to drip and gush, seep and shudder with all this water playing them like an orchestra. The constant rush of the Adelphi weir on the other side of the buildings under construction, is an audible, if unseen, force of industrial scale.
Observation of site, 2018
https://www.fortisgroupholdings.co.uk/developments/adelphi-wharf-phase-one
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