London today – a loud, proud, boastful city high on energy and rolling
in cash. The financial power of the City is flooding like a tsunami
over the old East End – Spitalfields is poised in a fragile and no
doubt brief balance between bland, concretized and glazed, assimilating
corporate glamour and the creative anarchy of bohemia and
multi-cultural Britain.
But duck down any of the side streets leading off Bishopsgate and in
two minutes you end up in an alleyway like this. An alley not much
changed from the days when Jack the Ripper stalked his victims in these
very streets. An alley where over a hundred years on, his presence and
the evil he did is still palpable. Sound drains into the dark. You’re
on your own here. Or are you?
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