Clifton Cathedral The Hairy Builder

Want to know about British history?

You'd better get your hands dirty.

Don't bury your head in a guidebook.

Ask a brickie,

a chippy,

or a roofer.

Ever since I were a boy, I've had

a passion for our past, so...

I'm going to apprentice myself

to the oldest masonry company

in the country -

mastering their crafts,

and scraping away the secrets

of Blighty's poshest piles -

from castles to cathedrals,

musical halls to mansions,

palaces to public schools.

These aren't just buildings,

they're keys to opening up our past

and bringing it back to life.

Today, I'm in Clifton,

a chichi suburb of Bristol,

to visit the interesting-looking

Catholic cathedral.

'I'll be ripping off the roof!'

There's acres and acres of it.

Yeah.

'Playing some tunes.'

Two, three, four...

'And finding out more about

Bristol's rich engineering

heritage.'

Aw, this is high.

It's not like this making pies,

you know.

Ehhh...

Clifton is one of Bristol's

oldest and most affluent areas.

Renowned for its Georgian Regency

architecture,

it also houses some of the city's

most iconic landmarks.

The world-famous suspension bridge,

that, at 150 years old, still

carries 4 million cars in and out

of the city every year.

The stunning Clifton College,

where the highest ever cricket

score of 628 not out

was recorded in 1899.

And then, there's the cathedral.

Well, some say it sticks out

like a sore thumb, but others,

they love its boldness.

But any way up,

you can't exactly miss it.

Built in the 1970s,

this monolithic building is quite

a stark contrast to its neighbours

with its concrete tower, lead roof

and Aberdeen granite cladding.

And its intriguing modern design

has divided local opinion.

So what do you think

of the cathedral?

Personally, I think

it's a bit of an eyesore, really.

It doesn't really

fit with the rest of

the architecture in this area.

Yes.

I remember it being built,

and at first I thought,

"Oh, I don't know about this,"

but I quite like it, actually.

Yeah?

It's quite nice.

Yeah, I don't mind it.

I think it's quite nice,

you know, to have a change

and a bit of mix and match.

Oh, fair enough.

You can end up looking

a bit too twee, can't you?

if you're a bit too sort of trying

too hard to blend in.

Love it or hate it, for this iconic

Catholic cathedral to

remain on the Bristol skyline,

it needs critical repairs,

as its leaky roof threatens

the entire fabric of the building.

But before I get hands-on

with the builders,

I'm meeting

the dean of the cathedral.

Obviously, this is a

very big project,

bringing the cathedral,

making it healthy again

after a long period

where it was injured,

let's put it like that.

Yes.

How big a part of the community

is the cathedral?

Well, it's a tremendously important

building in itself for the

whole Catholic community and for

the wider community here in Bristol.

In a way, it's a polarising building

because it is so unusual,

it's so unlike many people's

preconceived ideas of what

a church should look like.

It was built in the 1970s, soon

after the Council of the Church made

the way that we celebrate slightly

different to how it was in the past.

And so this is designed for it.

The Church Council's main

requirement was to provide

a space where the congregation

could be grouped closely

around the high altar and feel part

of the celebration of Mass.

With that in mind,

they built a hexagonal nave

and now no-one is more than

15 metres away from the action.

It's a proper landmark building.

Yeah, it's iconic and it can be

seen from many different vantage

points around Bristol

because Bristol is quite hilly

and we're on the top of a hill here.

And so that's quite a nice thing

that the cathedral is

a beacon for the whole city.

In order that it can be preserved

for years to come,

construction firm William Anelay

are on site doing the renovations.

But the building is younger than me,

so what's gone wrong?

How do, Tim?

Dave, how are you?

Ay, not bad.

Pleased to meet you.

Ay, it does stick out, doesn't it?

I suppose it's one of the ones

that Prince Charles would

describe as a monstrous carbuncle.

It is Grade II Star listed,

so it's quite an important building

round here.

So what do you think of it, Tim?

I quite like it, yeah.

It's interesting, yeah.

I like the lead. I like the lead.

Nice finish on the lead on

the concrete, so good contrast.

It's there, isn't it?

It's quite

in your face, isn't it?

Yeah.

Why does it need so much work,

you know, so young?

They didn't fix the lead

very well on this job,

so it's all falling off.

All the insulation is all rotten,

So it needs doing now, otherwise,

it'll be in a bad condition

in a few years' time.

It is that perennial builders'

thing, isn't it, really?

It all starts with making

a building watertight.

If it's not watertight,

you can't do anything.

Yeah, you've got to have

the top hat fixed first

and then everything else after that.

I'll remember that one, a top hat

fixed. I'll be using that one.

It's going to cost an incredible

£1.9 million to repair

and they've got a year to do it.

During that time, they'll be

replacing a shedload of lead

on the roof, nearly 90 tonnes of it,

as well as restoring the skylights.

But before the new roof goes on,

they'll need to remove everything.

As the dust from the old lead is

toxic, we have to take precautions.

So is it boiler suit and mask?

Boiler suit and mask.

Right.

Some say with me the mask

is going to be an improvement.

Do you know, it's one thing

changing in a changing room.

It's another thing changing

about 100 foot up.

'I'm not sure

if they designed boiler suits

'for tough Northerners like me.'

And who said working

on a building site isn't glamorous?

It's like CSI thingy,

isn't it, really?

We are about to exhume

some dead people.

'Now it's time to take

that top hat off.'

Right.

You can imagine, before hard hats,

the amount of fellas

clumping their heads, can't you?

Yeah.

It's a mess, isn't it?

This is just falling apart.

So this all has to come off, Dara?

Does this come out as well?

Yeah, everything. Insulation,

the timber, everything.

Right, old boss, what's first?

Hammer.

Hammer.

Knock that back, there's a copper.

Do you know, I bet there's a roofer

somewhere who put this up going,

"There was nowt wrong

with that roof."

Give us a go, Dara. So just to

use the bar or...

Yeah, yeah.

If you just put it in behind,

it should just come out.

Dara, what happens to the old lead?

It all gets recycled.

So it'll be melted down again.

Yes.

Right, so it could end up back

on somebody else's church roof.

It could, yeah.

If that piece was 35 kilos, there's

85 tonnes of lead on this roof,

you've got 2,500 of these

to strip off!

I try not to think about it.

This lead is pretty heavy stuff,

so it needs to be cut with snips

into more manageable lumps.

And we're just cutting it to make it

easier to handle.

That's it, yeah.

We've done one piece,

and you just look up,

and there's acres and acres of it.

Yeah.

Do you enjoy it, Dara?

A piece of

cake.

Yeah? It's a piece of lead.

If I made cakes that were

that heavy, I'd be in trouble.

It's like Mary Berry's nightmare,

I tell you.

The concrete and the lead

on the building

complement each other well,

but why were they used at all?

Clifton Cathedral was commissioned

during the swinging '60s,

a decade of freethinking.

And back then, even the church

was starting to chill out.

Radical thinking required

radical buildings.

And nothing was more radical

than brutalism.

And that was a movement

that was in love with concrete.

In the 1950s and '60s, concrete

was hailed as a wonder material

that could quickly be moulded into

innovative and different shapes,

and it soon became the must-have

material for new public buildings.

This era of brutalism

brought us some groovy,

if a little stark, constructions.

The Festival Hall

in the Southbank in London,

and the lead Shot Tower

here in Bristol.

What's interesting about many

of the modernist buildings,

including some examples

of brutalism,

is that actually they represented

this brave new world

vision of the post-war period,

where people wanted to break with

the past, the misery,

the war and the death.

But the popularity of this style

of architecture waned quickly.

It was seen as cold

and associated with urban decay.

With a significant number

having been demolished,

those that are left are seen

as worth preserving.

The Roman Catholic cathedral

in Clifton is a particularly

high quality example of brutalism,

and I think what's really

interesting about it is that

not only is it a set piece brutalist

piece of design itself,

it also juxtaposes

really interestingly with

the Georgian terraces

immediately next to it.

It's a fantastic addition to Clifton

and, I think, a beautiful building.

This thoroughly modern construction

uses a fascinating

geometrical design.

Every element has been built

round a triangle with

angles at every turn.

From the skylights...

..to the ceiling...

..to the floor tiles.

I'm keen to find out more,

so I've come here to meet

Peter Harrison, who was part

of the original team of designers,

and cathedral administrator

Mary Manners.

Hello, Peter.

Hello, Dave,

pleased to meet you.

Hello, Mary.

Pleased to meet you.

It is a wonderful place.

I mean, it really is still

very revolutionary.

The more you look at it,

the more you see. It is brutal.

And it's there,

it's a big statement.

But actually, the more you look

at it, the cleverer it gets.

The central engineering triumph

of the building is this vast

space with no columns.

Gosh, yes, of course.

Yes? And when

they were constructing it,

there were great brick columns.

On top of that, there was a sack

with sand in.

Yeah.

And the day came when they were

going to take the pillars down

and allow the structure to settle.

Oof.

The whole concrete structure

was mixed and poured on site

and propped up with supports

as it set.

Taking them down correctly

was critical,

because if it went wrong,

the whole building

could collapse in on itself.

Between the main beam

and the temporary support pillars

were bags of sand, which,

when split open, would slowly drain,

leaving the building

to stand on its own.

And it was very important

that it happened together.

So the men go up on either side

and up the word at 10.30 that

morning, they start to prick

the sack of sand.

Yes? And the one on that side worked

and you could hear the sand

tinkling down the scaffolding.

But on this side, it didn't,

because the sack had got wet.

Oh.

And it took 20 minutes

with blow lamps

and all sorts of sharp instruments

to open up the sack and get the

sand out and then eventually,

of course,

they could take the pier down.

Can you imagine, though, the future

of the cathedral, after all

that work, was dependent

on a soggy sandbag.

Exactly. Yes, yes.

My first thought

is that this building is

a bit like a multi-story car park

with pews.

But the more I look at it, the more

I understand and appreciate it.

The entrance hall is lit

by walls of coloured glass.

Gosh, they are spectacular,

aren't they?

Yeah, they're wonderful.

Who made these?

Henry Haig.

Right.

There's over 8,000 pieces of glass.

This window is about jubilation.

The wonder and the beauty of walking

in the countryside by the lakes,

by the sea,

and a wonderful sense of the

wonderful world in which we live.

It's interesting as well, it's

like resin rather than leading.

Yes.

Poxy resin.

Resin.

Yeah.

But this looks really permanent.

I mean, the cathedral,

it does have a sense of permanency

to it that I do love.

Yes.

It has got a wonderful atmosphere.

Yes, incredible.

And it doesn't matter if it's full,

or if there is no-one in it,

it still has that amazing sort

of warm feeling that you're secure.

It's so fresh, isn't it?

Fresh, yes. Yeah, it is. Fabulous.

Yes, absolutely brilliant.

Let's go and have a look

at this one.

'For such a stark

and modern building,

'it does feel surprisingly cosy.'

But it only came about at all

because of some unfortunate

planning.

In the 1830s,

on a site half a mile from here,

plans for the original

Catholic church were drawn up.

The idea was for a classical design

with a colossal tower.

However, the site was plagued with

subsidence, so the ambitious design

had to be scaled back and a less

spectacular version opened in 1850.

After over a century of use,

the building was in such bad

state of repair, they decided

it was more economical to build

the new cathedral down the road,

rather than renovate it.

The original building

became derelict until, in 2013,

it became the first cathedral ever

to be converted

into residential use in the UK and

now houses over 200 student flats.

Hello.

Hello, Amy.

Hiya, nice to

meet you.

Nice to meet you too.

Can I come in?

Course you can.

Cor blimey!

This is student life,

but not as I knew it.

I know, it's so luxurious here.

It's a proper home.

I love my beam.

Cor, it's lovely.

It's quite nice that

they've kept like the key

features like the stained glass

windows and some of the structures.

Do you ever feel like

you're in a cathedral

going about your domestic life

up here?

Not really.

Merrily in the roof.

No, it's a

nice mixture of like modern and old.

It's perfect.

It's so cosy and comfy.

I think it's really good to have

somewhere like to relax after

uni, somewhere that feels like home.

In my day, students would just go to

the pub. Has that all changed now?

Yeah, sit in with Bake Off and a cup

of tea, to be honest.

Yeah?

This, in a way, to me,

and it's just my opinion,

this feels more like a cathedral

than the cathedral cathedral.

Really?

Modern engineering helped to

overcome the subsidence problems

faced by the original cathedral's

construction team.

Thankfully, Clifton's most famous

landmark, its suspension bridge,

wasn't beset with the same issues.

It's a bit like the parable of

the wise and the foolish builders.

They picked the right spot

to plonk their bridge.

Completed in 1864,

it links the city to Somerset

and was the brainchild

of Isambard Kingdom Brunel,

one of Britain's

most exceptional engineers.

Weighing 1,500 tonnes,

the bridge has enormous chains

that span the gorge, flexing

and stretching over giant rollers

at the top of the towers.

Now that's engineering!

The bridge's upkeep has been

completely funded by tolls ever

since it opened in 1864.

It does take a lot of looking after,

and today, I'm here to help out.

'Today's engineers are working

on the cradle underneath the bridge,

'75 metres above the River Avon.

'Now, I'm not a fan of heights,

so this could get interesting.'

Argh.

Aw, this is high.

Do you know? It's not like this

making pies, you know.

Argh.

Hello, Dave.

Hi, Dave,

how are you doing?

Hello, an honour to meet

the bridge master.

Oh, thank you.

It's an incredible structure,

but how difficult was it to build?

Well, it was the span

which was the most difficult thing.

Actually, the rock that the

bridge towers are built off

is really solid here.

It's carboniferous limestone,

it's really strong stuff,

so I don't think they had major

problems with the rock.

The biggest difficulty was actually

cutting the tunnels that

go down to the anchorages,

where the suspension chains

are anchored down into the rock.

It's a suspension bridge.

The bridge is hanging, so the

hanging has to be anchored.

Yeah.

How far down do you have to put

those anchors?

They go down about 25 metres

into the rock.

Crumbs.

So they cut...

It was really difficult,

hand excavation

down through the solid rock,

tunnels at 45 degrees...

Right.

..and then at the bottom of

those tunnels, they reamed it out,

enlarged the size a little bit,

so that they could form

a plug around the chains that take

the loads back against the rock.

The maintenance is continuous

on this bridge.

How much of the bridge is original?

Well, virtually all of it,

in actual fact.

All the ironwork...

Yep.

I would say 99% of that

is still the original ironwork

that was put up 150 years ago.

But the chains,

where did they come from?

Actually, when they were installed

on this bridge,

they were second-hand.

No!

Yes, they did it,

they'd been previously used

on another of Brunel's

suspension bridges,

actually in London,

it was called the

Hungerford Footbridge

across the Thames.

Yeah.

And it just coincided with

when they found money to complete

this bridge, that Hungerford Bridge

had to be dismantled because it was

in the way of a new railway bridge.

Right. You see?

Even in those days,

Bristol still had a strong green

policy for recycling.

Quite right.

It's extraordinary, isn't it?

I love engineering like this,

that's still a vital part

of modern Britain. It's great.

'It's flipping hairy

under the bridge, but Nigel

'and Martin have been hanging around

here fixing stuff for decades.'

Hello, boys. BOTH:

Hello, Dave.

Do

you ever get used to these heights?

After 33 years, I'd think we would

do, yeah.

33 years?

Yeah, yeah.

Yeah, 19 years for me so...

Cor!

'Taking care of this 150-year-old

structure is a mammoth task

'and there's something I didn't know

from walking on top.'

The bridge deck's wood.

Yes, it is,

yeah.

You never thought that.

You've got cars and hundreds of

tonnes of vehicles coming over,

and it's wood and it was so high up!

Well, it's incredible

when you go back to the 1800s,

when it was first built,

and you think this was

just for horses and carts.

Who would've thought they'd have

put 50 tonnes of asphalt on top

to let cars go across?

It's just

engineering at its finest, isn't it?

It's functional, it's beautiful and

it's blooming useful.

Yeah, exactly.

And it's an onward-going thing.

I mean, year in, year out, there is

always something got to be done to

maintain it and keep it

back up together.

Brackets, screws and driver.

'Now it's my chance to make a mark

on this wonderful bridge,

'fixing a cable tray

to protect power lines.'

I've got him.

That's it, that's fine.

Right.

So what we're going to do now,

Dave, we've got

to do two or three brackets now

to hold that in place.

Once that's in place, then,

we'll just get some cable ties

and just cable tie

these cables to the tray.

And that will be a pigeon-proof...

A pigeon-proof cable tray.

LAUGHS: A pigeon-proof cable tray.

'That's one done,

only another 500 to go.'

There's a lot of bridge to do,

like.

I'm just looking

all the way over there.

There's no short cuts

with heritage.

'Clifton suspension bridge

is beautiful,

'and with proper care,

looks set to last.'

Back at the cathedral,

they're putting new lead onto

the roof to make sure it's also

preserved for future generations.

It's got to be cut, beaten

and welded in order to do its

vital job of holding this

brilliant building together.

They'll be lugging

nearly 90 tonnes of it up here.

And Ray Waterfield

is a lead-roofing expert,

having spent almost his entire

working career up a scaffold.

Ray!

Hello, Dave.

Hello, mate, how

are you doing?

I'm fine, thank you.

How long had the roof been leaking?

Four days after they opened,

in 1974.

The buckets were out, Dave.

You're joking!

No, I'm not,

and they've been out ever since.

It does seem daft

that they didn't do this sooner,

but I guess with the leading work

costing nearly 2 million quid,

it's taken a while

for the cathedral

to raise all the funds needed.

They are rebuilding the roof

structure, adding insulation,

and preparing the surface with

special moisture-wicking paper.

This is a building paper, this is,

Dave, with a bitumen membrane.

So it all helps with the moisture.

Yeah.

Because the lead

will get wet on the back.

Right. With condensation.

Because it's a metallic thing.

Yeah.

Why do you use copper nails?

So it doesn't rot.

You can use stainless steel

nails or copper nails or

stainless steel clips

or copper clips.

Because lead nails would be no good,

would they?

No.

You'd never get them in.

A bit like

a chocolate kettle, Dave.

Ay, or a glass hammer.

Ashtray on a motorbike.

'It's bespoke fitting.

'Every section is carefully measured

before the lead is cut to size.'

I'll do a dozen told, Ray.

How long have you been doing this?

Too long.

35 years, on and off.

Is this the right thing to do?

It's instinctive, then, Ray.

I just reached for that.

Yeah, flip it over,

put that on there.

Yeah.

Do you want me to loan it out

or are you going to loan it out?

I'm happy to do it with this.

You're all right with sharp knives,

aren't you?

Yeah, I'm all right.

You've used sharp knives before,

haven't you?

I have in the kitchen.

All right.

Then just snip it out?

It's quite labour-intensive

and much harder than it looks.

Oh, little finger.

Now, you get that going.

Oh, little finger.

Now, if you want...

Yeah.

That's it.

A natural, Dave.

I'm flattered.

Have you ever had a roof knicked?

Yes, I finished a roof on a Friday

and had a phone call on Monday

to go back and replace it

where it's gone over the weekend.

You're joking!

That must be heartbreaking.

Well, not really,

you get paid twice, don't you?

It's all right

if you're short of work.

Ay, ay.

Right, so you want a dresser now,

Dave, a lead dresser.

So how do you dress it?

There is a

lead dresser. I'll just get the...

Keep it nice and flat

and just tap it out.

Tap it out.

You've got rhythm, Ray.

So a little bit of oil on the back

of the sheet.

That's the back.

You put it there.

That's enough.

Then just rub that all over.

We're putting patination

all on the backs of these

to help stop any oxidisation.

That's just a fancy word

for lead rusting.

Are you all right? Are you going

to nail?

Yeah. Yeah, of course.

Now I'm feeling guilty

you're lifting that on your tod.

All right, so,

I need to pull that up there.

Push that over there, right.

To the line?

To the line.

What are you like for the top, Dave?

Are you fairly level?

I am now. Yeah. Mint.

All right, if you want to put

a copper nail in there.

Yeah.

Mind your fingers.

I'm all right.

There?

Yeah.

Got that?

Yeah. Ow!

Good, are you?

Oh, yes.

I normally

end up nailing my gloves to the...

All right, I need to cut

some of that off this lead.

Wow, I'm good at that.

You want

to do it? Are you sure?

Yeah.

That's a big piece of lead.

Let me get you started

down at the bottom.

Cos then we can...

Right, that's coming down there.

It's probably a bit long, this.

It is just like patching pastry

for a pie.

Are you happy doing that?

Ay, ay.

We then trim that

so you've got an inch.

Yeah.

Lip it over.

Then turn that over.

Beautiful.

In a few more weeks,

the congregation will no longer

have to dodge buckets of water

as the roof will be watertight

for the very first time.

That's welcome news for everyone,

including Richard Jeffrey-Grey,

who has been playing the organ here

for nearly 30 years.

Hello.

Oh, it's magnificent, Richard.

Absolutely brilliant.

Oop!

Ooh!

Hello.

Oh, sorry. I forgot

where I was there for a minute.

This is wonderful.

But like many other things

in this cathedral,

the organ's quite special too,

isn't it?

Yeah, I think it's

entirely mechanical

which is very unusual for

a cathedral organ

because there's often bits of

electrics in it to help what

happens between the key

and the pipes to happen.

Shall we have a little...

I think we...

Two, three, four...

MUSIC: Do-re-mi by Richard Rodgers

Oh, no you're improvising.

Yes. Da-da-da-da-da-da.

Thank you and good night.

Thank you.

I feel really kind of quite guilty,

really, for savaging the organ.

It's all right, it's quite

a tough old thing, actually.

It is.

Some buildings are ornate,

full of fussy details

and classical features,

but Clifton's brutalist

spaceship of a building, well,

it doesn't mess about.

It's modern, open-hearted

and flooded with natural light.

And I, for one, standing here,

am very optimistic

and more than just a little bit

uplifted.

Next time, I'm in London's East End

at the vibrant Wiltons Music Hall.

I'll be taking to the stage.

# There's an old mill by the stream

# Nelly Dean... #

Helping the builders

in their final hours.

Val, can I do the last nail

at Wiltons?

And I'll be rolling out

the barrels for a

modern-day music hall knees-up.

# So, run, rabbit, run, rabbit,

run, run, run... #