The leaning tower of Pisa is not the only off-kilter structure to pose problems for modern architects. For the past 130 years, Belfast has been home to what is thought to be the continent's only leaning clock-tower, and recently the teetering timepiece has been receiving a £2 million facelift.
The Albert Clock was erected in memory of the historic visit to the city by Prince Albert and Queen Victoria, who sailed into Belfast docks, just a stroll from where the structure was built, in the mid1800s. The tower's famous lean - it is around 800 millimetres off-balance - has afforded it a unique place in the hearts of Belfast citizens since it was completed in 1870.
Local architect William J. Barre, who was also responsible for the Ulster Hall, designed the structure. In his book, Belfast - An Architectural Appraisal, Dr Paul Lorimer of Queen's University describes the clock-tower's "eclectic mix of styles, including early French and Italian gothic, with early Renaissance heraldic lions to the flying buttresses at the base".
In the same way courting couples in Dublin would rendezvous at Clery's landmark timepiece, "meet you at the clock" also became part of the Belfast language of romance. For a time, being caught watchgazing at the foot of the Albert Clock was tantamount to brandishing a large sign declaring: "I've been stood up."
Back then, when the clock was a focal point of the city centre - that geographical honour now belongs to the network of streets around City Hall - crowds flocked to it on New Year's Eve. The annual assembly gave credence to one architect's appraisal of the memorial as a High Victorian version of London's Big Ben. Celebrations were a bit more robust in Belfast, though. The local tradition saw revellers tossing empty bottles up at the clock-tower to see who could get closest to the top.
This New Year, custom can't have done the stonework any favours, and the clock's intricate carvings and sculptures also received a battering after the army carried out a controlled explosion nearby in the early 1990s. One of the four clock faces was badly damaged by flying debris, and one enterprising cameraman, Iain Webster, who then worked for the BBC, climbed to the top of the tower and captured superb images of High Street through the cracked clock face.
Now running his own production company, Network Media, Webster has been following the fate of the leaning clock ever since, and is currently working on a documentary about the city's most unusual landmark, which is due to be screened next year. "I am very keen on old buildings, and find it sad that a lot of old Belfast has disappeared," says Webster. "This project is so important because something like the Albert Clock would cost an absolute fortune to build now." His film incorporates anecdotes from locals about the social history of the clock and documents the refurbishment work that has been carried out in the past year.
Conservation architect Dawson Stelfox is part of the team working on restoring the clock to its former splendour. "It is built on the line of the Farset River, which runs along High Street, so the foundations are surrounded by water and sleech [mud]. The lean was caused by the timber piles used as a foundation, which just weren't adequate, and so the clock started to lean pretty much as soon as it was built," he says.
Indeed, city council records from the early 1900s show that, just 30 years after it had been erected, the wonky clock was already giving cause for concern. More than 100 years later, Belfast City Council managed to secure around £2 million sterling in funding, half of which is lottery money, to restore the clock.
Stelfox explains that the main work to the foundations is now complete. Now, 20 concrete pillars, which go down around 30 metres into the squelchy ground, form the base for the clock-tower. But still its legendary lean remains intact.
"It would have been a very difficult job, and while we could have straightened it, we decided that the fact that it leans is a talking-point that makes the clock unique. So we left it, although the work does mean it won't lean any further," he says.
There is not much to be seen of the clock these days. While gargoyles are replaced and once-majestic turrets repaired, it is hidden by scaffolding and polythene sheeting. As is traditional, the clock's hands have been placed at 12 o'clock while the painstaking work of restoring the stonework and replacing original features is carried out. It will remain at midnight - or noon - until the new improved Albert Clock is unveiled in 2002.