How does an ordinary, functional building suddenly becomes an object of fascination, conversations, and dozens of photos, articles and drawings just when it is being demolished? Like at a funeral, each person comes to pay their respects, moved by the feeling that something big is changing. Later, when the cranes and diggers start work, tearing through concrete floors, everyone feels their immense power changing the landscape forever.
In the UK we are accustomed to peace and a certain amount of continuity, for which we tend to be respectful towards the historic built environment. Therefore, demolishing a building is unnatural, because it is a brutal reminder that not everything carries on as usual. Perhaps it is a reminder of our own mortality. And where does all the demolished concrete go afterwards? However ugly that building was, it was still a place where memories were made, and a backdrop to daily life. Who knows what dramas were played out in inside its walls, in those offices and waiting rooms that no longer exist. With time we will have a new building in its place, another, more acceptable face for a town regenerated.