What is an urban sky frame? It’s a worm’s-eye view centring around the sky, almost seamlessly framed by urban structures (a term invented right here, right now).
I’ve spotted a growing movement on Instagram, and I seem to be part of it. Welcome to the Spanish community of retro typography hunters, who are acting fast to preserve Spain’s unlikely works of street art.
Welcome to the untimely ossuary of Madrid’s extinct shops, bars and restaurants – an emotive collection of defunct signage from Madrid’s long-lost traditional businesses.
Enrique Bordes and Luis de Sobrón, creators of the map Madrid Bombardeado 1936-1939, are part of a growing movement to expose the lost stories of the Spanish Civil War. They’re tracking down our city’s hidden wounds and opening them back up in the hope that by redressing them properly, they can finally heal.
Lined up for you, I’ve got two bars, one of which is 316 years old. Also, two no-frills eateries on two different continents, a few local architectural phenomenons spanning various eras, and a virtual ticket to some of Madrid’s nethermost barrios. Sound good? Then dive in…
A lot has happened in the last 100 years. Trees have been chopped down, and men’s role models no longer have hair down to their hips. The metro continues to be a fascinating labyrinth of lost and found stories but, it’s in Madrid’s other modes of transport that I’ve discovered a breach in the Madrid time continuum.
I’ve got a confession to make: I’m a little bit obsessed with confessionals. I suspect this might be one of the weirdest things a priest could ever be told through a latticed window, but although I have no intention of repenting my curiosity-related sins, an explanation might be helpful…
Would you love to see trees, grass and fountains on Plaza Mayor again? Me too. The same can’t be said for the other lost stories I’ve dug up, however. Open-cast construction sites, cars parked in strange places, and the symptoms of war never made for an attractive city.
In this volume of no-frills finds, we reveal the location of two classic bodegas, one no-frills microbrewery, and a bustling seafoodie gem. We also document two separate sightings of Madrid’s past, which had been lying dormant beneath our feet this whole time. It paid to go little off-grid too, leading us to a burnt-out train driver’s cabin and the quirkiest museum we’ve found yet.
When I took these photographs, I thought it would take a little longer than a couple of years for them to become an archive of the lost.