Works are underway on the building that could become the centre of UK politics. But what do locals think?
Ancoats is used to change.
It’s Manchester’s prime example of a phoenix rising from the ashes of post-industrial decline – transformed from neglected old cotton mills into swanky wine bars, Michelin-recommended restaurants, and million-pound apartments housing footballers and property developers.
Now the neighbourhood could be hurtling towards another massive revamp.
Earlier this week, presumed Prime Minister-in-waiting Andy Burnham announced plans to create a ‘Number 10 North’, moving some functions of government 200 miles away to Manchester.
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Cue jokey speculation about where this new Downing Street of the North should be located – from Oxford Street McDonald’s to Sacha’s budget hotel. Unfortunately, Mr Burnham’s team have already set their sights on a different long-term spot: the new Manchester Digital Campus currently being built opposite New Islington Marina.
A sign pinned to the gates around the new government site in Ancoats.
The new government building was only confirmed in March this year, with work beginning in June. The former retail park opposite Ancoats’ Aldi is intended to house almost 9,000 civil servants from different government departments once it’s completed in a few years time.
Not everyone in Ancoats and New Islington is as enthused by the idea, however.
“Gross,” Rue Aza-Vieria, 27, said when she heard about the plans. The IT-worker grew up in East Manchester, and says she’s seen the area ‘change, grow, and flourish’. “I wouldn’t do that if I knew I was surrounded by government buildings. It wouldn’t be the same,” she said. “It’s just going to ruin the vista for Ancoats marina. It’s not what we want. This is a place where people can enjoy themselves and relax. “There’s apartments, there’s cafes, bars. People live across the water. We don’t want it.”
Though she now lives in Deansgate, she still comes to sit by the marina and draw or read on occasion, and soak up the atmosphere.
Rue Aza-Viera is not convinced.
“It will one thousand percent change the character of the area. People won’t want to come here. It’s just going to become an epicentre of something Ancoats marina isn’t about. There’s other places in Manchester that would be more suitable.”
Denzel, a 24-year-old artist who hails from Rome but has lived in the city for five years, is also sceptical. He thinks it’s a massive shame the government building was approved on the site of a former community-made skatepark.
“It just don’t feel right,” he said, while enjoying the shade under a patch of trees on Cotton Fields. “We’re all for progress, but it needs to serve the locals who live here. This place already feels a bit dystopian, because you have these million-pound houses on one side, council housing on the other. Adding [Manchester’s political centre] to the equation will make it even more detached from the people of Manchester.”
Denzel, a locally-based artist, thinks the new plans don’t serve local people.
He also thought it would drive rents up further, and attract more southerners to the area, pushing locals further out of the city.
“A few of my friends have already been bought out of their homes round here,” he said. “On the other hand this is all speculation, and Andy Burnham has his own ideas. Though it seems like his idea for this is ‘f*** around and find out’”.
Denzel isn’t the only one worried about the influx of southerners.
“There’s already a lot of southerners around here,” said Krislynn Antal, a 21-year-old biomed graduate. “Me and my friend always put on a southern accent when we’re here because we think it’s hilarious – literally everyone here has one.”
Overall, Krislynn supports the idea of a Number 10 in the North. “It’s pretty cool, and it will put more focus on the North and bring jobs here,” she said. “Ancoats has recently become more of a hub so I can see why they’ve chosen here. But I think a lot of people from Manchester would probably rather it wasn’t in Ancoats. Maybe if they put it more central, or near the universities that would be better.”
Krislynn likes the plans, but thinks there’s already a lot of southerners in New Islington.
Elsewhere people see the need to begrudgingly move aside for progress. Ralph Kennedy, 50, works at an arts company on Blossom Street, and stopped to chat to the LDRS on his way to pick up his daughter from school.
“We’ve been talking about it in the office all day,” he said. “It’s kind of funny. You’re going to see all these big companies and lobbying firms move in around here, of course, – at the end of the day, that’s good for the city. But that’ll be the end of this place for us. No way we can afford the rent increase. We just moved here from Hulme six months ago – I suppose we’ll be moving back.
“We’re not angry, not super happy either.”
Ralph thinks his company will have to move when the political bigwigs move in.
Steve Porter, 70, is out walking five-year-old Tyke, his West Yorkshire and Schnauzer mix – apparently known as a ‘Wowzer’. The former property developer, originally from Halifax, retired to New Islington and is the only one to be unambiguously positive about the development – even though his penthouse apartment overlooking the marina will face directly towards the new governmental building.
“It was all going to be government office,” he said. “I think they’ve chosen this spot simply because it was being paid for by the government anyway. That makes sense.
“It’s a good idea, because the north-south divide has been there for decades. I was aware of it as a young boy, and it’s still true today. Even though we’re starting to see a shift – with some of the financial sector moving to Leeds, the BBC moving to Salford, and now parts of Whitehall being moved here.
Steve Porter thinks the plans are alright – and he’s their neighbour.
“Manchester is the fastest growing city, it’s time we had more political weight.”
As the LDRS wrapped up for these interviews, horns blared from Great Ancoats Street in the rushhour traffic, yuppies and dinkies walked their immaculately groomed sausage dogs along the canal, or sidled onto benches outside natural wine shops and craft beer pubs, and houseboats filled the air with the smell of woodfire and petrol. Youngsters from the estate raced break-neck along the marina on bikes, or cast fishing lines into the canal.
The area already seems unlike any other part of the city. It’s hard to predict what will happen when Whitehall descends on it.