The Baltic Bounces Back

After the annus horribilis of 2011 it’s heartening to see the Baltic Triangle on the rise again. As we discussed yesterday, we’ve got great hopes for Camp and Furnace. As we type, sealed bids have been received from suitors willing to woo the CUC back to life (good luck with that), and, on Jordan Street, work is almost complete on a new suite of starter pods and serviced offices for Baltic Creative, the zone’s community-minded landlords.

Head of Baltic Creative, Mark Lawler is the man with the keys. He shows SevenStreets around his new place: a clever conjunction of disused industrial units, now linked by a internal garden corridor, with mezzanine level open-plan offices, funky 2, 4 and 6-man sheds, with breakout spaces, coffee stations and, opening out onto the street, a soon-to-be-opened new branch of a well loved Liverpool independent cafe. It’s like a fun fair for creatives: all you need is a coconut shy and a grizzled old woman intent on deciphering your palm. We’re tempted to move there ourselves, next to the likes of Shiverpool Ghost Tours, potters and photographers. Imagine the fun you could have.

The space has been engineered by fellow Baltic neighbours, FVMA (ex Union North - artist impression above), and as an incubation space for start ups keen to soak up that invigorating Baltic air we can think of no smarter environment.

But the space - 22 Jordan Street - is more than that. By turning the units on their end, and having a new entrance directly onto Jamaica Street, the Baltic are deliberately letting the light in on the alchemy that takes place in the workshops and studios of this creative corner of town.

“We know it’s important to show the rest of the city just how thriving this area is, and also to have sociable places where those who work here can relax and socialise,” he says.

These decompression zones have been - until now – the area’s Achilles heel. And, with the closure of the CUC, they’ve been even thinner off the ground. The butty van isn’t, in a downpour, the best way to calm VDU-frazzled heads.Camp and Furnace, thankfully, now serves food all day (pic r).

The area’s empty units are perfect for start-ups, their post-industrial aesthetic (and, more importantly, their cheap rents) act like honeypots to cash-strapped creatives and small crews of digital warriors. That they’re not swish air-conditioned, partitioned and sterile suites means the call centre brigades and the solicitors won’t be eyeing up the Baltic any time soon…

But it also means that much of what goes on here does so behind brick walls and shutters. Not the best environment to cross-pollinate and mix up those creative fluids.

“The place evolved organically,” Mark says, “Our typical tenants would have been in the Ropewalks a decade ago, but as places get gentrified, rents go up and the creatives that brought life back to the area are moved out. Luckily, NWDA owned 18 buildings here, and decided to set up a Community Interest Company, with the express intent of nurturing small and medium creative enterprises,” he adds.

The NWDA might have been wiped from the map, but their work continues. And the city’s displaced diaspora of ceramicists, make-up artists, photographers and PR agencies have a new place to call home: with easy in-and-out tenancies, business advice on tap, a marketing leg-up and an instant network of likeminded folk. If the magic’s gonna happen anywhere, chances are it’s going to happen here.

“Our CIC status means that we’re not for profit,” Mark says, “So we plough everything back into the area, and into the service we can offer our tenants. This isn’t about making a quick buck, we’re in it for the long haul.”

Talk, then, of the death of the Baltic, has – we’re glad to report, been greatly exaggerated. A point brought home across the road at the Biennial’s swish HQ.

“More greenery, more events, more visibility.”

They’re the priorities of the Baltic Triangle’s own CIC – a not-for-profit steering group chaired by the Biennial’s Antony Pickthall. “We want to make this space an events led corner of the city, and animate the streets all year round.”

It’s a wise move that many of the Baltic’s creative core of tenants, working in music (Sound City), marketing (Agent), and arts (Arena Studios) would stand to benefit from, not to mention those smaller one-desk start ups. Street fairs, festivals, shindigs and spectacles. A creative biosphere that feeds itself. A circle of life, amid the lubrication manufacturers, International Women’s Centre and Nordic Church.

“We love the crazy mix of traditional industry, artists and workshops, and we really want to keep that,” Antony says: a point that’s driven home in the area’s snappily presented Manifesto.

And let’s not forget zombies: ignore the Baltic’s Zombie population at your peril.

Threshold Fest has already shown the area’s potential as a multi-purpose open air, under cover and underground event space. Its skate park is attracting afficianados from across Europe, and the new Hub off St James Street promises an al fresco muster station for one-off events.

There’s even talk of the Hub Festival relocating here: or ambitions at least. It would fit like a hand in a BMX glove.

More bars and cafes are, everyone agrees, essential. It’s part of the reason the Baltic’s official boundaries have stretched to accommodate Cains, and its excellent Brewery Tap. But that the area is making all the right moves is self evident: all we have to do now is make the move from town to give it our support.

Baltic Creative: 22 Jordan Street is set to open early July.