Finding Mr Engels: Part 2
Friedrich Engels, standing there with his arms folded in a concrete frockcoat, could not look more out of place
It’s a hot day in May 2025 and the sun is blazing down outside the Home arts venue in Tony Wilson Place.
A group of office workers in short sleeves and white trainers are chatting over lunch at a row of trestle tables.
Nearby, a signboard is advertising a breakfast butty with a hot drink for £6.50 with unselfconscious aplomb.
Friedrich Engels, standing th…