SIX months on from its opening, and an eternity from the appearance of that ominous first headline, "Holyrood costs may top £60m", are we any nearer to embracing the new parliament building?
Ensnared in almost as much controversy as the building itself is the Wark Clements documentary The Gathering Place, the first instalment of which was shown last night.
The cost of this film, paid for by the public, has climbed to just a whisker u
nder £1 million and there is talk of legal action over a possible breach of EU rules on state funding.
Everything this building has touched, or been touched by, seems destined for trouble and controversy. But has the eye of the storm not surely passed? Is not the prevailing mood now to look ahead and put the past behind?
Indeed, there does seem to be a concerted effort, radiating out from the Presiding Officer, George Reid, to surround the parliament in a myth: not quite, perhaps, Leni Riefenstal’s Triumph of the Will, but more Triumph of Forgiveness over Fact.
It goes like this: It’s impossible to please everyone ... This was always going to be a difficult project ... All such projects overshoot their initial budgets ... We now have a unique and iconic building ... Visitors are flocking to it ... And hasn’t Marcus Binney, architectural correspondent of the Times, not hailed it as a masterpiece we should all be proud of?
Certainly the long controversy has done the building no harm from a tourist perspective. Hundreds come daily to view it. And while there are many who will never forget the excesses of this project and the final result, there are a sufficient number impressed with what they see to keep debate going.
Opinion is sharply divided between those who love it and those who hate it, with a large lump in the middle who cannot understand how we spent so much on it.
This building is destined to have a long legacy. But it is not just the aesthetics with which we have to wrestle. One suspects the jury will always be out on the architecture. Whether you like this style of building is a matter of personal preference.
But there are other problem areas we must assess in coming to a view as to whether it is a gain or a loss for Scotland.
This was a project that blew apart the credibility of the Scottish Executive in the field of public procurement. The failure to control either the delays to the building or its spiralling cost have inflicted real damage to public confidence in the ability of the Executive to handle future infrastructure projects of substance. Every new proposal will be haunted by the spectre of the parliament building debacle and questions as to competence and ability to oversee future public work. I will be interested to see what prominence The Gathering Place gives to this aspect, if indeed any.
Second, what has the building done for the institution of the Scottish Parliament? I have found a disturbing ambivalence among even the most sanguine MSPs about the building’s merits. They are quick to point to its unique architecture, its exclusive, quirky detail, the committee rooms and in particular the drama of the main chamber.
This is certainly the feature that most impresses visitors. But in subsequent private conversation, MSPs, worried about fading public interest in devolution, admit to telling and substantial problems.
Somehow, the chamber fails to lend sympathy and support to the functions of a parliament. First Minister’s Question Time now seems an event drained of drama and excitement.
This may be because of the configuration of the chamber, or the furnishings, or a low quality of debate, or a combination of these. From TV coverage of the "highlights", MSPs are often difficult to see behind their Tommy Dorsey Swing Band designer desks. Indeed, there are times when I yearn to see David McLetchie and the BlueNotes suddenly standing up and swinging their saxophones. The First Minister, for his part, seems to have a problem making eye contact with some of his questioners.
The chamber’s acoustics also do the parliament no favours. The formal contributions to the debates are perfectly audible. But in the public gallery the speakers’ voices are miniaturised: what you hear has been stripped of rhetorical force and resonance. It is like listening to a divisional board meeting of ParcelForce about underlying first-quarter volumes of cross-border cardboard boxes.
This extrusion of drama speaks to a greater problem with the parliament which has nothing to do with the physical building and for which it should not be blamed. But there is a real problem of generating debate worthy of the space provided.
THERE is, for example, the strict time limit applied to speeches. MSPs have barely reprised the formal party position than they are running out of time. Far from discouraging the sterile exchange of party positions, the rules rather work to encourage them. And it is because of these rules that TV coverage of the proceedings conveys the impression, if not the fact, of a largely deserted chamber with only a few MSPs taking part.
The impression left on the public is not good. If the debates - on issues such as smoking bans, obesity and anti-social behaviour - are so poorly attended, why should the public much bother?
What, overall, has the building done for devolution and the standing of Scotland? It has not done the independence cause any favours. People fear that if this is what the halfway house of devolution has delivered then at least they have been spared the full Monty. This perception is wholly unfair to the Scottish National Party MSPs who have been so critical of the building and without whose pressure there might never have been an independent inquiry. But it has not done our self-confidence much good.
Is the finished result not winning over hearts and minds? Not in sufficiently large quantities, and I do not think the myth of Triumph of Forgiveness is going to prevail. For many Scots, this Spanish import, with its Gothic over-fussiness, bamboo-barred windows and the late additions of concrete water pistols (or are they hairdryers?) on the sides of the building to relieve the cement rendering just doesn’t arouse pride.
As for the low, dark concrete ceilings in the entry foyer offering cool relief from the relentless sun, it is faintly ridiculous in Edinburgh. For all the landscaping of the gardens, this remains a problematic building compressed into a totally inadequate site and whose architectural features show no sympathy whatever for their surroundings.
It is a travesty of setting and of purpose. More serious than that, however, it is a catastrophic betrayal of our national consciousness. The greater failure of this building in my view is its opportunity cost: the loss of what we might have had under a disposition more concerned to secure a proudly Scottish building designed by Scottish architects and which reflected Scottish sensibilities.
This is the greater betrayal. Many will reconcile themselves to it, if they have not already done so. But for those who hoped devolution would be the gateway to better things for Scotland, this building is a betrayal beyond forgiveness.
The full article contains 1231 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
