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    Imagen 1 de 3, Póster con la obra Pleasley Colliery, diseñada y vendida por stateless.
    Imagen 2 de 3, Póster con la obra Pleasley Colliery, diseñada y vendida por stateless.
    Imagen 3 de 3, Póster con la obra Pleasley Colliery, diseñada y vendida por stateless.
    Póster con la obra Pleasley Colliery, diseñada y vendida por stateless

    Pleasley Colliery Póster

    Diseñado y vendido por Simon Mears
    18,13 US$
    Estilo
    Póster
    PósterPapel grueso con acabado semibrillante
    Tamaño
    Acabado
    18,13 US$
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    Características del producto

    • Impreso en papel para pósters. Es extremadamente versátil, por lo que resulta perfecto para reproducir diseños o fotografías.
    • Tamaños personalizados dependiendo de las dimensiones de la obra. Mira la guía de tamaños si quieres enmarcar tú.
    • Incluye un margen blanco de 1‑2 pulgadas (2,5‑5 cm) para que el marco quede perfecto.
    • Se envían en un embalaje protector.
    • Dado que cada producto está hecho solo para ti por imprentas independientes locales, es posible que haya ligeras variaciones en el producto recibido
    Imagen de la obra Pleasley Colliery de Simon Mears
    Pleasley Colliery
    One of the few intact examples of a 19th century colliery in the UK.. long since abandoned, derelict and fenced off. The Miner's strike of 1984 deeply divided the working classes of the UK, between one another and in conflict with the yuppie privatisation ideal of PM Thatcher's moneterism, as the strikers were portrayed by a government friendly media as agitators and communists under the leadership of Arthur Scargill. Whatever the economics be, of coal as a sustainable and profitable source of energy, the basics were that tens of thousands of people, entire communities, were being forced into redundancy and into the unknown. The strike lasted as long as the workers could last without money to heat and feed and clothe their families, which was almost a year. Communities were further isolated from the rest of the country by the drafting in of police forces from all over the UK, stopping pickets and charity food vehicles reaching their destination. For some weeks England resembled East Germany with police vehicles placed on the slip roads of motorways and coal villages cordoned off and open only to residents. I thought of posting the lyrics to U2's Red Hill Mining Town, apt as they are, talking of the "hands of steel", the miners and the "hearts of stone", Thatcher and the National Coal Board, a song that steered clear of politics but preferred to delve into the despair of the traditional working class male who expected to be able to provide for his family and expected nothing more, who was left with nothing, whose "love runs cold in the cabins of the night", except a sickening doubt and worry that can blow the family wide apart and leave one nowhere - "love, slowly stripped away, love, seen its better day, hanging on.. the lights go out on Red Hill town.." here's a folk-punk song by The Men They Couldn't Hang called.... SHIRT OF BLUE, a tale of two brothers, a miner and a police officer. 'Hey' there Tommy have you got a new shirt is it's colour a fine bright blue? Has your mother sent you up to the school From the street with a pretty view? Shall we wrestle in the old school yard Like the other children do? We can tear our hands, we can scuff our shoes And I'll rip that shirt off you Hey there Tommy since you moved away They've taken our town and they've made it new And now there stands a chemical works Where the cherry orchard grew And I married Lucy from the back of the class Who once wrote letters to you And we've got kids and we send them to school from the street with a pretty view Oh your shirt of blue Oh your shirt of blue Oh your shirt of blue Oh your shirt of blue (Chorus...) Maybe Tommy We grew up too quick From the fields Where the flowers grew From a butterfly stick To a baton and a brick You changed your uniform far too soon Hey there Tommy shall we meet again In the morning wet with dew Me at the gates of the colliery And you with your shirt of blue Shall we wrestle in the muddy patch like the other poor men do? We can tear our hands we can scuff our shoes And I will rip that shirt off you Oh your shirt of blue Oh your shirt of blue

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