Skelmersdale : Returning to Yesterday’s Tomorrow
In 1961, Skelmersdale was designated a new town, a concrete expression of faith in planned communities and rational design. The pedestrian footbridges curve over roundabouts, the library's repetitive panels, the shopping centre's covered walkways were all built with optimism about reshaping how people live together. These structures represent a moment when local authorities believed in grand civic gestures as democratic right.
Photographing these spaces in 2025, I'm struck by their persistence. The concrete has weathered but not surrendered, stained by decades of Lancashire rain into something approaching organic patina. The bridges still carry people safely above traffic, the library still lends books, the shopping centre still shelters commerce from weather. Function continues even as the utopian vision has faded into pragmatic acceptance.
There's an honesty in brutalist architecture that modern corporate spaces lack. No decorative flourishes, no performed wellness - just structural elements doing their job sans apology. Repetitive concrete panels create rhythm rather than monotony, elevated walkways suggest movement through space with a sculptural confidence. Someone believed these materials could house hope and the buildings still bear witness to that faith.
They poured concrete like prayers in 1961,
Believed roundabouts could reshape desire,
That bridges built for pedestrian feet alone
Could lift a community ever higher.
The gap between intention and outcome isn't failure, it’s evolution. Families moved here seeking better lives and found different ones. The infrastructure adapted, weathered and endured. Graffiti appeared on pristine surfaces, vegetation claimed spaces between buildings, communities developed in ways that planners never anticipated. The town learned to live with its own architecture.
Walking through Skelmersdale with a camera is documenting quiet persistence not urban decay. These structures still serve the people who made peace with their environment's particular beauty. The concrete bridges frame sky and landscape with an unexpected abstract poetry. The civic buildings maintain their dignity through use rather than admiration. Sometimes the most radical act is simply continuing to exist.
