London-born Alison moved to Glasgow in 2005 to study creative writing at Glasgow University. 20 years later, we delve into her fabulous new book, celebrating one of Glasgow’s most iconic landmarks.
Words by Tracey McCallum
What was it about Glasgow that made you want to study creative writing here?
I used to catch the Glasgow train from Euston when I was going to university in Lancaster and I used to wonder what that city at the end of the line was like. I knew that my grandfather was born in Glasgow before his family emigrated to Sydney, Australia, so that was another pull on the line for me. It was pretty much all we knew about him because my mum’s parents separated when she was six months old.
Also, culturally, I’d always loved the music that had come out of Glasgow and I have strong memories of reading about Glasgow being the City of Culture in 1990. So, when I was making a big life-move, moving cities and taking a leap of faith with my writing, I knew that Glasgow was the city for me.
Was writing always your ambition?
No, I wanted to be an actor from the age of six. I did a lot of acting, read a lot of plays and after studying English and Theatre Studies at Lancaster University, I did a lot of jobs, some acting, some secretarial. In my late 20s I picked up a pen and started to write. I went to a beginner’s night class and wrote some short stories and realised that writing was the one thing I wanted to do. I went to some more night classes and then decided to take the plunge and do an MLitt in creative writing.
Glasgow seems to have provided plenty of inspiration — you’ve written This Road Is Red about the lives of those who lived in the Red Road flats, and Nothing Is Lost about the impact of the Commonwealth Games on Glasgow’s East End.
I feel very lucky to have done the work I’ve done. My book on the Red Road Flats came out of a commission to record the stories of people who had lived and worked at the flats. It was part of a legacy project with the aim of ensuring that the voices and experiences of people who lived there were not forgotten. That’s exactly the kind of writing I like to do. I think it’s important to record stories that might not otherwise be written down
I met photographer Chris Leslie and illustrator Mitch Miller while working at the flats and we’ve worked together ever since. We now have an artist collective called Recollective. We still do our solo projects (my novel writing for example) but we regularly work together on documentary-style projects like our recent one in Cumbernauld Town Centre and our Commonwealth Games project on the East End of Glasgow.
You’d written about the Barrowland in 2019. What’s the difference between the first book and this one?
There’s never enough time or space in a book to write everything you want to write. In any project I have to put the notebook and dictaphone down, start writing and meet the damn deadline. This new book gave me the opportunity to look at aspects of the Barrowland that I didn’t get to last time round
I’m pleased with my chapter on the filming of Simple Minds’ Waterfront video, for example, seen through the eyes of two young people who were there in 1983, an event that kickstarted the Ballroom as the gig venue that we know and love today. I got to do some proper behind-the-scenes work experience this time too, pulling pints with the bar staff and checking in coats with the cloakroom staff. It was a way of me finding out what it’s like to work at the Barrowland, to collect more stories from gig-goers and to experience the atmosphere that we know and love.
It was also a chance to look at the effect that the Covid pandemic had on the Barrowland and to document the Barras market again, which, when I last wrote about it, was nowhere near as robust and busy as it is today. Many of the staff I interviewed the first time round were still working at the Barrowland, so it was an opportunity to continue telling their stories too.
Shifts in the cloakroom and behind the bar must have been a fun way to get into the nitty-gritty?
I loved doing my research. I spent a lot of time at the Barrowland, on gig nights and during the day and was made so welcome. Basically, my research involved asking questions of people about their connection with the building. I’d ask gig-goers about their first gig, their best gig, any incidents or stand-out moments. I’d sometimes ask questions like what does the building smell like, or feel like, or sound like. Then I’d go away and type up the interview. I’d send the transcript back to the person I’d interviewed and check that they were happy for me to use everything that was written down. From that raw material, I’d take my quotations and find the stories to use in each chapter
Any particular stand-out stories?
I remember once at a gig, I was sitting in the Crush area opposite the merch stand writing some notes, and a woman came up and joked with me that I was writing my shopping list. She insisted that I follow her and her husband upstairs to get a sense of what the gig was like (it was Leftfield and the atmosphere was jumping). I observed two comical women trying to choose which colour Barrowland t-shirt to buy at the Barrowland merch stand. Watching the Barrowland house photographer, Gareth Fraser, take photographs of Franz Ferdinand from the pit — it was fascinating to watch him and the other photographers snapping away. I stood on the accessible platform at that same Franz Ferdinand gig and saw a sea of raised hands clapping in unison.
And standing in the control room with monitors showing views of the stage while another gig was going on. I could feel the thud of people’s feet stamping on the floor above us. One of the bar staff took me round the back of the stage while a gig was on (if you need to get from Kitty’s bar to Sam’s bar when a gig’s on, that’s the easiest way), and it was surreal to see the band on stage, with the audience transfixed in front of them. We peeked out of the window onto the street below — it was dusk outside — and it felt even more surreal to know that the world was going on outside, while here in the Ballroom people were having an intense shared experience
Glasgow has always been well known for its music venues. What is it about the Barrowland that makes it so special?
It’s a combination of things. Dugald McArthur, the Barrowland’s managing director, calls it a ‘secret sauce’. I think it has to be the neon sign on the front of the building, the sprung floor, the stars on the ceiling and the fact that not a lot has changed since 1960 when it was rebuilt. It’s also the staff who are so friendly and so welcoming. It’s the bands who aspire to play on the stage and then, when they get there, are blown away by the experience. And it’s the audiences too. The audience knows it can make a gig truly brilliant at the Barrowland, and they play their part in the whole experience. Someone described the Ballroom as Glasgow’s ‘Sistine Chapel’. It’s a venue that almost all Glaswegians are truly proud of.
Who would you consider the biggest artist that’s played at the Barrowland?
It’s got to be David Bowie.
What’s the best gig that you’ve attended there?
Billy Bragg just after Covid. Or The Pogues and guests earlier this year. Phenomenal gigs.
In a world where experiences are becoming ever more extravagant, what’s the future of the Barrowland, and how will it keep pulling in punters?
Its history, its legendary performances, its atmosphere (which the audience knows they can make or break) and its staff. It’s that ‘secret sauce’ again. I think a lot of bands and artists want to be a part of it. The Barrowland experience is about the connections the audience have with people from the moment they walk through the door, from the ticket checks to putting in coats, to buying their first drinks, all the way to that simple musical transaction: the band plays a song, and the audience listens and enjoys.
What are you working on now? How do you top this?
I’m missing the Barrowland research, that’s for sure! But I’ve got a novel coming out in May so I’m doing exciting things like giving my opinion on the cover design and back-cover blurb. I’m also in the middle of writing another novel. And lastly, I’m looking forward to working with my colleagues in Recollective again. We’ve got an idea for another documentary-style project and have applied for funding. I can’t say what the idea is, as we’re still waiting to hear if we’ve got the go-ahead, but fingers crossed. It’s another one that I think Glaswegians and those from further afield will like. But I also get to keep the Barrowland close with my bar job. It’s tougher than writing, but it keeps me grounded.
Alison Irvine’s books are available at Waterstones Byres Road and all good bookshops.
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