Kirk To Enterprise; Church transformed into a den of iniquity where

HOW do you fancy a right good night out with John Knox staring down at you? And to help Knox take a dim view of any merriment, there is also John Calvin and Martin Luther King. We are talking here about a former church that is to be converted into a centre for music, laughter, drama, visual art, fine dining and - sorry Messrs Knox and Calvin - the consumption of alcohol.

The building in question is the old Kelvinside Parish Church at the corner of Byres Road and Great Western Road in Glasgow. Work has begun to convert the church into a palace of culture and fun with a performance space, a gallery, a large traditional bar, a conservatory cafe bar, a seafood and tapas restaurant, and a ceilidh place which will double as a late-night venue.

It is from the space at the top of the kirk, an almost baronial area with vaulted arches and buttressed ceiling, that Knox & Co will gaze down on patrons. In all, the carved heads of 11 pillars of Protestantism are dotted around the walls of the former Free Church building. They also include reformation figures such as John Wycliffe, William Tyndale, Andrew Melville, and Alexander Henderson, and the more recent Dr Thomas Chalmers, a founder of the Free Church of Scotland.

It seems appropriate that there should be a hint of stern, Presbyterian disapproval in a venue which is to be quintessentially Scottish. The working title for the conversion is the Skerryvore Project. The men behind it are Colin Beattie and George Swanson. Beattie is best known for his Partick pub, the Lismore, where the stained glass, wrought iron, and stonework are a testament to his passion for contemporary Scottish arts and crafts.

Beattie has already commissioned a 30ft by 8ft mural from Alasdair Gray to adorn the performance space. Gray will also be involved in the decoration of the new Scottish parliament building in Edinburgh but, being a Glasgow west end man, he is enthused by the Kelvinside project. "I'll be able to get home in time for tea," Gray says. Sandy Stoddart, the eclectic classic sculptor, is another artist Beattie is keen to involve.

Scottish film stalwarts David Hayman and Peter McDougall have been asked to advise on drama, and Billy Kelly, of Mayfest, who has ploughed a lone furrow promoting world music in the city, is also on the advisory board.

The Skerryvore Project appears to be in a different league from other buildings which have been converted into cavernous licensed premises. Swanson, of the late Big Beat empire, says: "We want to offer the best of Scottish hospitality. The best of our humour, entertainment, food and drink. There will be none of the tartan tat. The emphasis will be international rather than parochial.

"We are looking to put in a camera obscura or a viewing tower in the church steeple as a tourist attraction to complement the Botanic Gardens across the road."

Beattie says their place will not be elitist. "We hope to attract all ages and all kinds of people. The wee man in the bunnet in for his hauf and hauf will be made as welcome as the west end lady sipping a glass of wine in the gallery. We hope the man in the bunnet will have a look in the gallery as well.

"The only clientele we don't want are regulars at Barlinnie or those who aspire to be." I think Mr Beattie is hinting at a zero tolerance towards the Glasgow ned.

I should declare an interest here as a west end resident. The barrio has some of the best pubs and restaurants in the city but, unfortunately, almost nothing in the way of late night life. The ceilidh club could provide some refuge for those whose nightclubbing days at Clatty Pats - known to non-weegies as Cleopatra's - are over. Beattie says his late venue will be a Renfrew Ferry on dry land.

The Skerryvore Project is unusual in that it will offer cultural sustenance without public funding. The (pounds) 3.7 million cost will be met privately. Beattie says: "For a change, there's no lottery money. Unless George and I win the jackpot, that is."

Estelle Morris has created a dangerous precedent with her resignation from the cabinet. She left because she thought she was good but not good enough for the job of education secretary. Think what would happen if this philosophy ruled:

Scotland would have to find a new First Minister

The benches of the Westminster and Scottish parliaments would be gey empty

We'd have to rebuild Hampden again

There would only be four or five players in the Scotland football team

There would be only two teams in the Scottish football leagues

Glasgow would not have an underground system

There would be no fruit and veg departments in supermarkets.;

There would be large queues at the dozen or so restaurants left in Scotland.

Glasgow taxi drivers would have to service Edinburgh as well.

The Sunday Herald would have to find a new writer for this column.

The BBC news has been covering yet another British earthquake. You may recall the recent quake in Dudley in the West Midlands which left no dead, no injured, and no devastation in its wake but still featured largely in the national bulletin.

The earth also moved in Manchester last week. The BBC reported that a chimney pot fell off and some bottles rattled on the shelves of an off-licence. I wrote at the time of the Dudley eruption that a fund might be set up to help the victims.

This theme has been picked up by a writer on the internet who has been considering what might happen should such an earthquake epicentre on Glasgow:

BBC news would report that victims were seen wandering aimlessly muttering: "Ah wiz shittin' masel" and "ah need some jellies".

Many people were wakened well before their giro arrived. Several priceless collections of mementos from the Balearics and Spanish costas were damaged.

At least three areas of historic and scientifically significant litter were disturbed The cone fell off the head of Wellington's statue outside the Gallery of Modern Art.

Thousands were confused and bewildered, trying to come to terms with the fact that something interesting had happened in Glasgow. Apparently though, looting did carry on as normal.

One resident, Mary-Alice McGregor, a 17-year-old mother-of-three, said: "It was such a shock. Little Chelsea came running into my bedroom crying but my youngest two, Tyler-Morgan and Shania, slept through it. I was still shaking when I was watching Trisha the next morning."

The Red Cross have so far managed to ship 4000 crates of Buckfast to the area to help the stricken masses.

The earthquake relief team have issued details of how you can help. Send clothing, baseball caps, two-stripe trainers, white socks, and chunky gold chains.

Emergency food centres have been established to issue donner kebabs, portions of cheesy chips, and deep-fried Mars bars.

Cash donations are also welcomed. A mere 22p will buy a biro for filling in a spurious compensation claim. Only (pounds) 2 will buy crisps and ginger for a family of four. (pounds) 10 can take a family away to Coatbridge for the day, where children can sniff glue and spike up among the national collection of stinging nettles. It's very simple; just send us your credit card number and we'll do the rest.

The word is that the above example of www.wit originated in Greenock where they know about these things.

Our Dundee reader picks up on last week's comment that The Bill has lost the plot. Harriet Potter, a pseudonym perhaps, has also noticed that the once-illustrious cop series is not so much about solving crime these days as chronicling the rape, suicide, and gay love triangles which are now a part of everyday life at Sun Hill.

Harriet recalls the good old days when they gave you the plot three times in the half-hour episode. A bloke arrives at the station saying his scooter has been stolen down the estate. The sarge with the enormous hooter noted details and read it back. Then cut to panda car. Polly and the camp cop are on the radio. They tell us they are on the way to the estate cos this bloke had his scooter nicked. They know Lenny Wilson has just been released from jail and it must've been him.

At the estate, Lenny runs along the top of the balcony, narrowly avoiding all 27 members of the Special Scooter Squad. His wife Myra is slouching at the door, smoking (clearly no lady). "Leave 'im alone, he ain't dun nuffink and he ain't even been here." Crash from the kitchen, Lenny gets nicked. He accepts the invitation to go dahn the station and everyone is happy, especially June since she has Guides that night and needs to be off sharpish.

But these days, what has happened to June? She is having sex with a man and a woman, when we know she would usually be at home cataloguing her Bunty annuals or leafing through a guy-rope manual. Those were the days indeed.

Copyright 2002
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