The Green Men of Birmingham

Regular readers of this blog will be accustomed to a pattern appearing in my posts: establish my pretensions to intellectual rigour, delineate the subject, demolish fluffy ideas, run out of steam and come to a hasty conclusion. One (posh grammar) used to be able to get a leaflet listing the foliate heads of Brum, but I haven't seen that around for ages so as a public service will list them here, with my own spin, needless to say. I say 'foliate heads' even though they are often called 'green men', a term in use only since the 1930s (stage 1 of my blog post). I will follow the ones identified in the original leaflet (I'm ashamed to say I didn't keep a copy, & only have notes which don't include the author's name) in the order they were put there. Perhaps I should also say that this post was actually written in the midst of an actual journey around these green men, as a sort of 'spiritual exercise', so the tenses are rather mixed, for which apologies. I don't believe that to be the best order to do them in, as it involves some to-ing and fro-ing & I don't doubt that there are more foliate heads in the city centre.

Lady Raglan coined the term "Green Man" in her 1939 article "The Green Man in Church Architecture" in The Folklore Journal. Some commentators conflate or associate the term with "Jack in the Green".
Usually referred to in works on architecture as foliate heads or foliate masks, carvings of the Green Man may take many forms, naturalistic or decorative. The simplest depict a man's face peering out of dense foliage. Some may have leaves for hair, perhaps with a leafy beard. Often leaves or leafy shoots are shown growing from his open mouth and sometimes even from the nose and eyes as well. In the most abstract examples, the carving at first glance appears to be merely stylised foliage, with the facial element only becoming apparent on closer examination. The face is almost always male; green women are rare. Green cats, lions, and demons are also found. On gravestones and other memorials, human skulls are sometimes shown sprouting grape vines or other vegetation, presumably as a symbol of resurrection (as at Shebbear, Devon, England).
The Green Man appears in many forms, with the three most common types categorized as:
the Foliate Head - completely covered in green leaves
the Disgorging Head - spews vegetation from its mouth
the Bloodsucker Head - sprouts vegetation from all facial orifices.(e.g.-tear ducts, nostrils and mouth) Source

1. Comfort Inn (formerly the Market Hotel) on the corner of Station Street and Dudley Street. This is supposed to have two heads of the disgorging type, but I've never for the life of me been able to see them. If you stand on the other side of the road facing that corner, the shutter behind you used to open up to the Midland Red bus station, which was grim beyond all belief. Also on Station Street there used to be a junk shop wherein I once coveted two genuinely old icons, which were unfortunately way too expensive for my student budget at the time.

2. The Victoria, corner of Station St and John Bright Street: one foliate head above the door. Do I need to comment to anyone who knows this pub that it was one of the scenes of my misspent youth?

3. 81 John Bright Street (the building on the corner with Lower Severn Street). I think this may have been Busy Lizzie's many moons ago, but was empty and for sale on the day I made this pilgrimage. One foliate head right at the top of the building on the corner, with a drain pipe coming out of its mouth. I was unable to get a decent photo unfortunately, but that is the only visible drain pipe on that building. I suspect it has been left while all the others have been resited internally because the frontage of that building is listed. A listed drainpipe equals Original Period Feature (albeit it looks like lead) in estate agent speak.

4. Council House, Victoria Square. This monument to Victorian excess has numerous foliate heads, both beastly and human, carved in the frieze. On the day I did this the German Market was in full swing & I couldn't get far enough away to take a decent picture. At this stage of the journey it may be convenient to pop into Paradise Forum for a McPiss as I did before moving on to...

5. Birmingham and Midland Institute, corner of Margaret Street and Cornwall Street. The original leaflet says there are several foliate heads on both street sides of the building. My personal opinion is that most of them (they're above the windows) may not count. However, distinctly human features appear among the carved leaves in the frieze above the ground floor windows, which I think are much better examples of the Green Man hidden in the city. This building has only been the B&MI since 1974, and the foundation stone of the original building, laid by Prince Albert (behave, Hound, don't make a rude remark), was moved to this site.

On the other side of Cornwall Street is the School of Art, a quite phenomenally gorgeous building covered in luxuriant decoration, with sadly not a single foliate head to be seen.

6. 50 Newhall Street. The leaflet gave two foliate heads over the door. Unfortunately these are amongst the ones I have never been able to see amongst the undoubted carved foliage above the door. It mentioned as an afterthought two lions' heads above the door of number 52, which I think are clearly animal heads disgorging foliage. Obviously the spirit of the green is in the eye of the beholder, I suppose it could have been an error, but perhaps some people can see heads at number 50.

7. 56 and 60 Newhall Street. To my mind one of the best, or at least most obvious, examples; the building is anyway a positive orgy of art nouveau design. The design is copied (is it my imagination that the expression is subtly different?) - over the door of number 60.

8. 19 Newhall Street (on the corner with Edmund Street). Many carved heads among the terracotta greenery at the top of the building, which perfectly demonstrates the necessity of looking upwards in cities, since you could pass the lower end of that building for years and never notice the decoration.

9. Louisa Ryland House (remember her? She's appeared here before; I wouldn't want people to think I'm weird & *only* hang out with dead people, though), 44 Newhall Street. There is supposed to be a head above 'the central second floor window' on the Newhall Street side of the building, but once again I can't see it. Much more promising are the panels below the ground floor windows on the Edmund Street side of the building, which are a menagerie of fantastical animals sprouting greenery. There are some slightly less exuberant versions on the Cornwall Street side of the building.

On the way to the next location you pass Maddox House on Edmund Street, named after Conroy Ronald Maddox, a local surrealist, whom I had not heard of before. The building has a plaque with a quote: 'The work of surrealism can never be conclusive, it is more of an exploration, a journey and a struggle.'

10. Chamberlain House, 133 Edmund Street. Two foliate heads on the doorway that even I can see, and they've got magnificent moustaches.

11. 158 Edmund Street, on the corner with Church Street. Nine easily visible foliate heads, of what I'm coming to think of as the 'clone' or 'Freddy Mercury' type, above the ground floor windows.

12. Hotel du Vin (formerly The Birmingham and Midland Eye Hospital), corner of Edmund Street and Church Street. Carved head among foliage above the original name plaque on the corner.

13. 57 Colmore Row. To see these faces you have to stay on Church Street from the other side of the road from the building. If you run your eye up the building at the far end from the Colmore Row frontage, at the junction with Barwick Street, at the top of the building is what looks like a carved urn, which actually has foliate heads on it. Then if you run your eye along the building you see another one. A third 'urn-thingy' is on the same position on the frontage actually on Barwick Street.

On the other side of Church Street, fronting on Colmore Row, is the former Grand Hotel, which has been on the at risk lists for some years. A friend & I once got thrown out of the extremely swanky bar for singing. I have two dinner plates with 'Grand Hotel, Birmingham' on them, which came from a charity shop.

14. 43 Colmore Row, formerly the Grand Hotel. Three foliate faces, which unless the condition of the building radically changes soon will certainly be invisible behind scaffolding.

15. St Philip's Cathedral. The camp as a row of tents windows above the doors at the sanctuary end of the building have a foliate head above & below them. This may be best seen in the week: at the weekend you may not be able to get close enough for the hordes of emos. Not sure what the collective noun for emos is - a grunt? A scowl? 

16. Great Western Arcade, Temple Row frontage. Heads made completely of foliage on either side of the entrance. Look closely now, and don't confuse them with the carved head at the centre of the arch. If you look to either side of that arch, however, there are barley sugar-effect pillars at the sides of the windows, & each one of those is surmounted with a foliate head.

Until recent road alterations you used to be able to get from Colmore Row to St Chad's via underpasses & one of those open bits in the middle of a roundabout that had a mosaic of John F Kennedy junior. I loved that mosaic (I believe it to be in storage somewhere) because of its heady 60s modernist optimism that we were entering a new, more positive age when we would all come together. It was not to be & underpasses went out of fashion, but you still pass this wonderful 60s street art underneath the police headquarters.

17. St Chad's Cathedral, St Chad's Queensway. A foliate head holds up one of the statues on the front. This cathedral contains the relics of St Chad above the high altar: see, Christians do object links as well! While at St Chad's I popped into the bookshop: the gorgeous blond man behind the counter looked nervous at my presence. I still can't work out what it is attracts young homosexuals to church, except the difficulty of saying 'I'm a faggot'. Incidentally the Catholic Truth Society's pamphlet on Wicca & Witchcraft is one of the more sensible introductions to the subject, from a Christian perspective. 

It will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me that my preferred route from St Chad's to Corporation Street passes the law courts. Always the possibility of seeing a bit of rough in a suit on his phone saying 'They let me off, blood.' Another thing I've just noticed today is the motto carved above a window at the back of the building: 'Justice giveth each one his own.' I'm sure my idea was not in the mind of the person who chose that, but it was at this moment my trip began to feel like a pilgrimage, one that reinforces the idea of personal sovereignty & will. What is just for me is *mine* and will not interfere with anyone else, because it is my own.

18. 153 - 161 Corporation Street, known once upon a time as the Pitman Building; it's opposite the Gazette Buildings on the other side of the road. This building looks to have had multiple changes of occupier over the years, & is still used for multiple occupancy. It has a plaque on it noting it as the location of the first health food shop in the UK. It has two foliate masks between the windows & three green men above the second floor windows. All of these are quite difficult to see & open to interpretation in the riot of decoration above the ground floor.

19. Ruskin Buildings, 179 - 203 Corporation Street. Various foliate heads hidden high up on the building, best seen from the other side of the road. The original leaflet also gives 'demonic' faces on each end bay. I can certainly see what look like faces, but it's difficult to see how demonic they are, given that I'm writing this on my blackberry, sheltering from the wind in the entrance to the former Methodist Central Hall. How the mighty are fallen! The MCH is another of those colossal monuments to Victorian (or possibly Edwardian) aspiration in decorated terracotta. In fact there are panels just above me depicting, presumably, scenes from the life of John Wesley. It is another of those buildings at risk locally whose original purpose has vanished (I believe Methodists to be the fastest declining Christian denomination, numerically), and for which no permanent new purpose has been found. It's had some years as a nightclub, but that wouldn't begin to use the vast building's full potential. There has been talk on & off of converting it into flats, which haven't become reality yet, & presumably it would be a very expensive conversion job. Perhaps the extension to the tram line which will end nearby, will lead to a change in its fortunes.

20. The Fire Station, Lancaster Circus. Faces in foliage above two windows.

21. 15 - 17 Corporation Street, formerly Ciro Citterio. Two foliage heads in vertical panels. I'll have to come clean here & admit that not only have I not seen these, I'm not even sure what building they're on. I have at least been past, but I'm reaching the stage at which I'm running out of steam, I've bought a milkshake to reinvigorate myself but am presently sheltering down the side of the Burlington Hotel, as it's started raining again!

22. Trocadero Public House, Temple Street. Two foliate masks over doorway. At first I thought I would have to add these to the list of ones I couldn't see, but I think they're actually among my favourites of the ones I've seen today: they're actually made of tile & surround what was obviously the entrance before the present one.

23. Burlington Hotel, Stephenson Street (formerly the Midland Hotel. Three foliate heads over doorway. I have only seen one of these: it is impossible to get far enough away to see more at the moment, because of the works to improve New Street Station.

I knew there'd be more if I looked, & to these may be added:

128 New Street, Waterstones. There is a crashingly obvious foliate head above the main entrance on New Street. 

There is a modern, huge green man figure at the Custard Factory (Gibb Street, Digbeth).

So I'm on the bus going home, having popped into the central library & found they don't have Brian Glover's autobiography, & I'm surprised to find I feel subtly different. I suppose the point of a pilgrimage is that an outward journey mirrors & provokes an inward journey, & I'm delighted that my outer journey getting better acquainted with this particular spirit of place has done just that, more by what happened along the way than by the actual journey itself.

There was the totally unexpected meeting with Conroy Maddox, and his quote about the journey never coming to an end, and then the words at the law courts. The ancients called overheard words like that a cledon, & those carved words were a sort of visual cledon. So how have I changed? I know, better than I did, that the journey does not end, it merely continues. And I have had reinforced that even though I can be doubtful of this & have times almost of despair, it is right to undertake the journey, and that I'm not going wildly in the wrong direction. The spirit of the green man is significant in this, if he taken as an image of continually renewing life being hidden in the foliage: to go on the journey necessitates risk and change, but not to go on the journey at all is certain death.

A Green Man Invocation
I call to you now, spirit of nature, strong and free
Come and teach me, I am ready to honor you
I celebrate your gifts; I am ready to learn your truths,
As my ancestors did before me,
I see your power and your pain, beneath the green mantle
Of the scars on your body and the great sadness in your eyes.
You are no longer abandoned, we hear you again;
We are ready, to honor your ways.
Reveal yourself, Green Man,
Weave your spells of green magic.
Teach me and I will listen for your voice;
I will celebrate your sacred wisdom ways. Source