It was more by chance than design that I started making so many sketches of the Malt Cross Inn over recent years; my ever present pocket sketchbook coinciding with suggestions from other creative Nottingham spirits that this would be a good place to meet and chat. It certainly proved to be such.
The daylight as it streams through that antique arched glass roof, to then sweep steadily across the room as the hours go by, creates a visual effect akin to being inside a huge sun dial. Or, if you’re on your third pint, maybe a kaleidoscope. The atmosphere is an interesting juxtaposition of a contemporary, even youthful approach, with art gallery and stage events, against a respectfully tended backdrop of red and green 19th century music hall ironwork. It should not blend so well. But it does. And the final result offers sanctuary to those of us not particularly enamoured with the garish multimedia lights and fast fry delights on the menu elsewhere in town. If I want to look at a TV screen I’ll stay home.
It’s impossible to do justice to the Malt Cross in a photograph. There’s too much visual information for the lens to digest. One needs to edit. Are my sketches any more successful? Not quite.
Some of my sketches come from the times I sat here engaged in half sober conversations imagining we were perhaps the Ginsbergs at the San Remo, the Dylans at the Café Wha?, or even the Henris at Ye Cracke. Until we sobered up. And we weren’t.