On Halloween, this post pulls together some of the exhibitions and things I’ve been to this month and connects them to a sketchy world of half-truths and ghostly make-believe in a pre-Internet world!
From the 1995 Sheffield documentary Tales From A Hard City (billed as a visual cousin to Pulp’s Common People by some), to Andy Cropper’s amazing paintings of a murky brutal city, and from the astonishing tale of how electronic music that launched the careers of ABC and Pulp came not from a South Yorkshire Hansa Studios but instead from a kitchen extension studio in Handsworth, to the first results of the largest ever National Folklore Survey (full disclaimer - I was on the focus group for this Sheffield Hallam-led project), this post looks at some recent Sheffield cult tales and hopefully finds some common themes, glimpses of inocence and ingenuity from a bygone world - the Sheffield of the latter-half of the 20th century.
Tales From A Hard City Exhibition - Post Hall, Sheffield Hallam (No Bounds)
“Tales From A Hard City” was a British documentary film that first aired in the early 1990s, offering an unflinching look at the realities of life in Sheffield during a period marked by economic hardship and social change. It focused on authentic, personal accounts of struggle, humour, and hope but not in a radio-friendly Full Monty way, this instead focused on the real lives of young (ish) people dreaming of a better future, from the cigar-chomping impressario Wayne who takes a troubled teenager, Sarah, with beautiful dreams and tries to launch her signing career. This film is all about hustling on the very bare bones thrown at them by society - without the big drama and narrative arcs. The filmmakers had previously made works at the Ingle Gym and profiled the career of Sheffield great Johnny Nelson so they were well used to finding the city’s gritty and resilient edges.
The exhibition also features some great bullet-proof dialogue and character synopsises, as well as some period Bill Stephenson photography from Park Hill, the Ingle Gym (including a young Prince Naseem and his brother) and Josephine’s Nightclub. As I walk round I’m struck by how there is an innocence to all these characters- they believe in themselves in a world not dominated by social media. Would they be so vivid and individual today, or would they have been outed as the hucksters and charlatans they possibly were? They are so very convinced. I remember when, back in the early 80s, I convinced a school dinner lady that I was the son of Genesis keyboard player Tony Banks (who I’d probably seen on Tiswas). I don’t know why - I didn’t even like Genesis - and so, Mrs Tully, if you’re reading this… Like the characters in the movie, there was no AI, fact-checking or socials to prove or disapprove my story, and it clearly wouldn’t have stood up to any scrutiny whatsoever.
The film is a hard watch from a hard city, and probably a way away from a Disney remake. But it’s compelling to see these snapshots from a Sheffield I never knew.
Andy Cropper recent works - Cupola Gallery
Andy Cropper’s work is very much a celebration of the Sheffield all around us, but he focuses on the beautiful in the brutal - abandoned and ricketty footbridges ( “Muggers Bridge” is one of these and reminds me of the added frisson of cutting across the tracks to the city while out on a run, hanging proudly in my landing), and the Farfield Inn - neglected and untouched since it closed in the early 2000s after the Sheffield floods. As I look at his latest retrospective, and amid rumours that he’s going to conjure up something very different next, I think about how there is a certain folklore in his prints - he documents something forgotten, temporary, atmospheric and haunting in his work, and it all tells a tremendous story of a changing city. Definitely something different for the living room.
Studio Electrophonique, Cabaret Voltaire and the Sleeping Forecast
It’s been a great month for Sheffield on the fringes of radio - not one but two great Freak Zone and After Dark broadcasts featuring the music chosen by Cabaret Voltaire, and the absolutely brilliant curation of Ken Patten’s kitchen studio, Studio Electrophonique, and the sounds that came out of it in the 1980s. Known as the Colonel and offering home recording studio facilities from his council semi in Handsworth, a convoy of future indie legends like Jarvis Cocker, The Future (Human League) and Vice Versa (ABC) schlepped down the Richmond Road to Ken’s place to cut their first records. I took a bus to the Ballifield Estate recently to trace the places expertly captured by Jamie Taylor’s Studio Electrophonique book.
Ken’s house has long since fallen silent and there’s no blue plaque to mark wear Pulp recorded their very first demo (which led to their first Peel Session) in 1980. But that adds to the myth doesn’t it? How could something so angular and futuristic be recorded here, opposite the Everest pub and a parade of typical estate shops? Again, could it even happen now or would people like Ken have been phased out by Garage Band and Bandcamp? Regardless, happen it did and the Studio Electrophonique playlist on Freak Zone is a joy to listen to. Through the angular grooves you can almost imagine a disapproving Ken (whose own preference was calypso and gypsy jazz) and his wife Lorna (who made biscuits but ordered the removal of footwear) listening to Twist ( later version is on the excellent Dreams To Fill The Vacuum compilation) and wondering: is this the way the future’s meant to feel? My kind of ghost story. For another audio treat, Jarvis Cocker has announced a one-off Sleeping Forecast radio show - my napping ears are already soothed by the prospect.
The curious tale of Mr Fox and the National Folklore Survey
Great news this week that, on the cusp of Halloween, the first findings of Sheffield Hallam’s Centre for Contemporary Legend have been released into the wild.
Dr David Clarke, who led the study, has been a face of the strange and alternative across Sheffield for many years, first covering the country’s most haunted bypass in Stocksbridge and then being one of the leading voices between the re-emergence of Sheffield Castle, and the myths and legends that surround it.
He enlisted me onto the focus group for the survey and it’s great to see it coming to fruition, giving us a comprehensive look at what, and why, we believe. And we believe a LOT.
These dancing girls, and one solitary hapless boy, have long since gone to be replaced by the Cavendish Street jobcentre. I wonder how many of the current occupants know of the ghostly goings-on brilliantly captured in this 1970 film? It also reminds me of the podcast I put out in 2019 about Britain’s most haunted Starbucks, the former Carbrook Hall in Attercliffe. At the time, I cringed a bit at the clunky audio, but was it just ghosts in the machine? Six years on, there’s still, if you choose to look for them, all kinds of marks of Sheffield’s folkloric past. And, thanks to Studio Electrophonique, the Cabs, Jarvis et all, those cultural witch marks are still being made in 2025. Happy Halloween folks!
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