Whether there is any truth in the rumour that the Leeds' coat of arms is to be changed to twin-crossed cranes on either side of a by-pass with a high-rise car park rampant in the centre I don't know. One thing is for certain, Leodis is growing. And as every prefabricated panel, or every pound of concrete is laid Leeds loses more of its individuality becoming more sterile and intimidating. That is, until you look up.

Lifting your eyes above twenty feet can transport you back in time. Back to an era when beauty and functionality would not be separated but beauty was prerequisite.

Leeds market dome

Walk down almost every street in the city centre and you are treated to the unforgettable sight of Victorian irregular fire red brick and silver grey granite gouged from the heart of Ilkley Moor. Pure Italian marble, maculated by the heavy traffic, but gleaming proudly in the afternoon sun.


Gargoyles grimacing from the forgotten roofs of paper shops and coy angels winking seductively from the frontage of banks. Verdigris stained statues, of heroes and statesmen, rub shoulders with kings and common, self-made men. Gothic arches link pubs to health stores and Moorish minarets stand akin to Greek and Roman columns. Hand crafted stained glass panels rainbow light shows into shopping centres and delicate, wrought iron, structures weave intricate patterns above our heads. It can quite simply take your breath away. But not, I fear, for much longer.

All of these are inexorably disappearing, like the age and ideologies, that gave them birth, because concrete is cheaper than character and in these frantic, must be somewhere else days, nobody ever looks up any more.

Dave Liversidge