Ambrose
Reynolds, the curator of Liverpool’s Bombed Out Church, is pensive, his eyes
twinkling over a Scouse brew. “This space is an oasis. Here, stillness can be
found amongst the chaos,” he says.
The
Bombed Out Church stands tall if a little unsteadily over Liverpool’s city
centre. It adopted its title after the Blitz in 1941, and its survival has hung
by a thread ever since. Roofless, consumed by nature and possessing a “micro-climate”
of its own, the church is symbolic of the city’s proud history.
Though
protected by covenant, the crumbling building was on the verge of being
abandoned when Reynolds came along in 2003; since then things seem to have, sometimes
physically, “fallen into place”.
An
attempt by Signature Living, a hotel operator, to buy the space last year was
met with public outrage. The council rejected its plans and a £19,000
Crowdfunder gave the church a new lease of life. Today, it is conserved by English
Heritage.
Home
to film screenings, Shakespeare plays, craft fairs, live music events, and
public forums attended by the local community despite “Siberian weather”, the
church’s popularity is soaring, Reynolds smiles. Last Sunday he welcomed Bonobo
and Gilles Peterson to its grounds, a show that sold out in ten minutes.
Gilles’ show was infallible, and a Brazilian bucket hat was rather aptly doing
the rounds as he played jazz, electro, and new releases from Romare. Bonobo put
on an eye-wateringly beautiful set which matched the surroundings perfectly.
Scouse
perseverance is to thank for the revitalisation of this Liverpool landmark.
That and a stubborn stand against commercial gentrification, or “poncifying” as
Reynolds calls it. What next for the Bombed Out Church? Well, the sky is quite literally
the limit.