Friday, June 5, 2015

Sydney's Wonderful Demolished Buildings

One of the first posts that I made on this blog was a look back at some of the buildings that Melbourne has lost over the years; our stylish architectural heritage that is no more, for a variety of reasons. It's a topic that, sadly, provided a lot of material.

So while I am in Sydney this week it seemed like a good time to revisit the concept, now applied to Australia's largest city. And, as you might expect, there are many more lost wonders to consider. The following is just a sample.



THE GARDEN PALACE

Royal Botanic Gardens

A photo of The Palace, shortly after construction.


A drawing of the opening of the Exhibition.

Built in 1879 for the Sydney International  Exhibition, on high ground in The Domain, the Garden Palace was the harbour city's answer to the Royal Exhibition Building in Melbourne (both buildings commenced construction February 1879). Mirroring London's famous Crystal Palace, the hall had a basic cross design, augmented by a 65 metre tall dome on the eastern side. Construction was round the clock - by arc neon lights at night, a first for Australia - and took only 8 months, costing the state Government a monumental 191 000 pounds.

It was described as the grandest building constructed in Australia to that time, and dominated Sydney's skyline.

The exhibition that followed was to prove a runaway success, with more than a million attendees. The displays were fairly modest, but provided a basic showcase of Australian agriculture and industry, with a few exhibits from the US and England providing some international flavour (most of these were re-used at the Melbourne Exhibition the following year). Once the exhibition was over, the building was put to use housing Government records.

An artists impression of the fire.

In the early hours of September 22, 1882, a nightwatchman on patrol saw smoke coming from the Palace's dome. The alarm was raised, but by the time the fire brigade arrived the largely timber building was already engulfed in flame. The fire burnt out later in the day, leaving almost no remnants of the building behind (and also destroying an estimated 3000 plants, in the adjoining Botanic Gardens). An enquiry was not able to determine the cause of the fire, although there was widespread speculation that it was deliberately lit.

A photo of the aftemath shows the complete destruction of the building.

This part of the city has been dramatically re-shaped since the late 19th century, but the overlay below gives some idea of where the building would have been positioned on the modern landscape. The second photo shows the corner in the bottom right of the overlay photo.

Overlay of the building on the present site (Source: Sydney Morning Herald)

The corner today.





HOTEL METROPOLE

Corner Young, Bent and Phillip Streets





Built in 1890 for a hefty 150 000 pounds, The Metropole was, at the time, considered Sydney's finest hotel. Its 260 rooms were sumptuously furnished, and the public areas were decorated with imported ceramic tiles and stained glass windows. It also featured a rooftop garden, offering views across the city, then something of a novelty. Writers Rudyard Kipling and Jack London were among the notable guests (there is a story that London complained about the hotel staff refusing to provide him with an extra candle). The building was demolished in 1969 to make way for a skyscraper, itself replaced in 1992 with Governor Macquarie Tower.


The CAGA Building was built on the site after the Metropole was demolished.

Governor Macquarie Tower replaced the CAGA Building in 1992.





NEW ZEALAND LOAN AND MERCANTILE AGENCY

88 Bridge Street



Founded in England in 1865, the New Zealand Loan & Mercantile Agency was a finance company with offices in  Sydney and Melbourne, along with several branches in NZ. The Sydney office pictured above, in a striking Victorian Mannerist building, opened in 1876 (although the picture used is from the 1930's). I was unable to find any information indicating specifically when the building was demolished, although the company merged with Dalgety and Co in 1961, so it is reasonable to assume that they relocated offices at that time. In this case, it also seems likely the building may have been one of many demolished in the redevelopment push of the 1960's. The site today:







AUSTRALIAN BANK OF COMMERCE

367 George Street



The Australian Bank of Commerce was one of many financial institutions fighting for business in Colonial Sydney. Their grand premises above opened in 1884, and was often considered one of Sydney's finest 19th century buildings. The attrition rate for these early banks was enormous, and the Bank of Commerce was absorbed by the much larger English Scottish and Australian Bank (ES & A) in the 1920's. ES & A maintained it's George Street office until 1970, when the company merged with the Australia New Zealand Banking Group. The building was then torn down and replaced with a modern office building, which was restyled into Sydney's Apple store in 2009:


The replacement building from the 1970s.


The site today.




THE LIVERPOOL & LONDON GLOBE INSURANCE BUILDING

62 Pitt Street


The building to the left of the above photo (the grand one in the centre is still standing) was the Sydney office of this British firm, which billed itself as the world's largest insurance provider in the late 19th century. The exact date of construction is uncertain, although the company was incorporated in Sydney in 1865. Photos of the original building are also scarce, although the Art Gallery of NSW does have a pencil sketch of it, by J.Watman.


The building was demolished in 1960 and replaced with a more modern office building, which may have fitted the era it was built but now looks horribly dated.

Demolition in progress, January 1960.

The site today.




THE COLONIAL MUTUAL ASSOCIATION BUILDING

Corner George & Wynyard Streets




The Colonial Mutual insurance group had a habit of building grand offices for themselves, and their original headquarters in Sydney was no different. Built in 1891, the six story office building was the city's tallest at the time, although it was shortly after superseded. The building was made primarily of sandstone quarried in nearby Pyrmont, with columns of granite imported from Scotland, at great expense. The building also featured modern lifts (still a rarity at this time), and a new kind of fire proofing, which involved the internal metal structures being encased in terra cotta. The building was demolished in 1969 to make way for the rather plain headquarters of the Bank of New Zealand. This building was itself demolished in 2014:


The Bank of New Zealand Building.

The site again under redevelopment.




HENRY BULL & CO.

Corner Market and Yorke Streets




Henry Bull was a local boy made good; in 1862 the young merchant married into Sydney's most prestigious family when he took Hannah Hordern as his wife. Hannah was the daughter of Anthony Hordern jr whose father, Anthony sr, had founded the retail company that had made the family fortune. Expanding from domestic wares (see below), by the end of the 19th century the Hordern's were involved in real estate, farming and finance, and family members had been elected to State Parliament, The Henry Bull building was built in 1904, and marked Henry's efforts to strike out on his own. The rather grand building depicted above was actually a warehouse, used for the receipt and dispatch of a variety of goods. The 53 metre tall tower, one of the highest in the city, was used for water storage. The building was demolished in 1973, an age of carnage for buildings of this vintage, and replaced by the bland St Martins Tower:








THE PALACE THEATRE

230 Pitt Street





Designed by Charles Blackhouse and built in 1896, The Palace was a multipurpose venue that had been originally attached to the sprawling Tattersalls Hotel. Government regulation at the time prohibited live venues from selling alcohol - patrons were required to exit a theatre and then re-enter a drinking establishment via a different door - a requirement that the proprietors circumvented by building a tiny laneway between the theatre and the hotel, that customers could step over. Starting with live music, comedy and vaudeville, after World War II The Palace was used primarily as a cinema, although a famous production of 'Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf?' was also staged there, in 1964. While opulently decorated, The Palace's small capacity, 775 seats, meant it was always a precarious commercial prospect. It was demolished in 1970 as part of a major redevelopment of this block, with the Hilton Hotel group leveling most of it to build a new property. The location today:






THE ROYAL ARCADE

Between George and Pitt Streets


Lost to the same large scale project as The Palace was the Royal Arcade, one of a number of classic Sydney Arcades that are no more (The Strand is the last remaining 19th century example). Designed by Thomas Rowe and built in 1882, The Royal was opened with great fanfare; Premier Henry Parkes presided over the public ceremony, which was followed by an enormous banquet with tables lining the arcade floor. The three story arcade featured high end retail on the ground floor, topped with two floors of offices. Gas lighting was augmented by a glass roof, and the walls were lavishly decorated with hand crafted wood paneling. Retailers were prohibited from displaying goods outside their shops, to preserve the arcade's appearance. When it was demolished in 1970 it was the oldest arcade in Sydney. Where the George Street entrance to the arcade would have been, today:







REGENT THEATRE

487 - 503 George Street




Opening in 1928, the 2 297 seat Regent was cinema chain Hoyts' flagship venue in Sydney. The interior was particularly opulent, and the art deco crystal chandelier in the foyer a minor city icon.




In the 1950's the cinema was sold by Hoyts and had several subsequent owners, changing hands every few years. The Regent showed mainstream, first run cinema releases through most of it's life span, but in the 1970's it diversified into live performance; stage musicals, concerts and even opera. By the 1980's The Regent's final owners, the Fink family, had decided to close the theatre and sell the property (the final session was a screening of the documentary 'Ski Time', in May 1984). 

The Regent; closed and awaiting its fate.

But the State Government had placed a temporary development ban on the property while its heritage value was assessed. This turned into a protracted court battle, lasting more than 4 years, while a public campaign was mounted to try and save the building. During this limbo period, the building stood empty and gradually fell into disrepair. When the development ban was finally lifted in 1988, the poor condition of the property was one of the reasons cited. The Regent was finally demolished later that year.

Incredibly, a slump in the Sydney property market then meant that the newly vacant land went undeveloped for more than 15 years! A new commercial property was finally built on the site in 2004:






PALACE EMPORIUM

Corner George and Liverpool Streets





And here we return to the Hordern family, and specifically their remarkable department store in central Sydney. Patriarch Anthony Hordern traveled to America in 1878 and, impressed by what he had seen there, returned to Australia determined to dramatically expand his operations. The enormous Palace Emporium was one expression of this desire. The first Emporium was built in 1879 but, when this burnt down in 1901, Hordern's heirs (Anthony passed away in 1886) simply rebuilt in even grander style. The Palace Emporium filled an entire city block, and was one of the largest department stores in the world.

The original Palace Emporium.

After the original building burnt down.

But in the second half of the 20th century, the Hordern's business fortunes began to wane. Increasing competition, and the popularity of American style mall shopping in the suburbs, pushed the company's city retail chain into the red. In the late 1960's Hordern's shops were sold off; most of them taken over by the retail chain 'Walton's' (itself now defunct), while some were bought by smaller chains and independent operators.


The Emporium site, after demolition.

The Palace Emporium was demolished in the 1980's to make way for the 'World Square' development, a much delayed project worthy of its own discussion. After multiple changes of developer, much government intervention, and two decades of intermittent construction, World Square finally opened in 2004:



Tuesday, June 2, 2015

The Cats of Sydney Harbour Bridge

This week finds Beside the Yarra headed to Sydney for a few days, so I thought it might be fun to post a couple of Sydney themed items.

To kick this off, let's start with the story behind the remarkable photo below...



One of the most iconic landmarks in Australia, if not the world, the Sydney Harbour Bridge was also an epic feat of depression era engineering. Built across the years 1923 - 1932, at the staggering cost of 6.25 million pounds, the Bridge's construction required an army of engineers, thousands of workers and no small amount of technical innovation.

The bridge under construction (Photo: State Library NSW)

The Bridge's design was supplied by the Scottish architectural firm John Burnet & Partners, and was modeled on the Hells Gate Bridge in New York City. Among other aesthetic touches, the design provided for two pairs of pylons; one pair on each bank of Sydney Harbour, one pylon from each pair on either side of the bridge. Shortly after the bridge's opening in March 1932, one of these pylons was converted into a tourist attraction.

In 1934, small time entrepreneur and jack of all trades Archer Whitford successfully leased the south east pylon from the state Government. Whitford turned the unused space into a combination museum and funhouse, installing a modern electric lift and a varied array of attractions:


A story about Archer's attraction in the local press.

Unfortunately, the outbreak of World War II meant that Whitford lost his venue; the military took over the pylons for the duration of the conflict, installing guard towers and anti aircraft guns. All civilian access to the pylons was restricted until the war was over.

Section Officer in the WAAAF; Yvonne Rentoul.

After the war, an ex-servicewoman named Yvonne Rentoul would restore the south east pylon. Renaming the pylon 'The All Australian Exhibition', Rentoul didn't stray too far from Whitford's successful formula; dioramas, sideshows, a lookout platform and a souvenir shop were all reinstalled.


The viewing platform on the South East pylon, 1948.

But one area where Rentoul did differ from her predecessor was her love of cats.

And she turned this into a new attraction at the pylon, installing a cattery on the roof and keeping 2-3 felines there at all times. The cattery became a popular part of a visit to the pylon, as can be seen by the prominent place that cats occupy on this promotional flyer:



Not that Rentoul left her pets in their cage all the time. In fact, the cats were free to wander about during the day, and were often only secured at night. It became relatively common to see them perched on a precarious girder, or standing calmly on the edge of a sudden drop. The cats were so well known that they even became sort of local celebrities, good enough for the front page:





Cats Live on the Bridge!

The cats, and Rentoul, stayed until her long term lease expired in 1971, after which the pylon again stood vacant. It is now used for a more official, and less eccentric, museum, cataloging the history of the bridge's construction and use.


Monday, June 1, 2015

Melbourne's First Exhibition Building


Situated in the Carlton Gardens at the north end of the city, The Royal Exhibition Building is one of Melbourne's most iconic landmarks. A rare example of a Victorian era great hall, the world heritage listed building is a popular destination for tourists, and still serves as a function centre for city events.

But it was not Melbourne's first exhibition building.

The Exhibition Building, shortly after construction.

Standing on the corner of William and Little Lonsdale Streets, this rather extraordinary building was modeled on London's famous Crystal Palace. Both were constructed largely of glass, with a wooden superstructure, although the local version was a little more rough and ready then the famous exhibition hall in England.

London's Crystal Palace.

But the exhibition hall was the grandest building constructed in Melbourne to that time, 250 feet long and 50 feet high, with an interior lit by 200 ornamental windows and 306 gas lights. The state Government, flush with cash for the first time in its short history on the back of the gold rush, footed the 20 000  pound cost. It's primary purpose was to serve as a suitably impressive venue for the Victorian Exhibition that the Government had organised for late 1854 (the first such event held in Australia).

A promotional picture for the Exhibition provides a summary of the image the government was trying to create:


However grand the exterior, the stalls in the Exhibition were modest:


Despite the rather straightforward material, the Exhibition was considered a great success, with more than 40 000 people attending. But once it was concluded, the State Government faced a new problem, (one that has become familiar to subsequent State Government;s over the years); what to do with the expensive building they had constructed for a very specific purpose.

The interior was redesigned and it was put to use as a hall for a hire, hosting balls, concerts and wedding receptions. It provided a home to the Melbourne Philharmonic Orchestra, and even served as a temporary lecture hall for Melbourne University, A further Victorian Exhibition was also held, less successfully, in 1861.

Finally, the Government let their white elephant fall into disrepair. Many of the glass windows began to leak, and the interior became too shabby to use for any public purpose. The building was demolished in the late 1860's, and a new Royal Mint was built on the site.

The Exhibition Building around the time of the 1854 event.


The new Royal Mint, shortly after construction.


The Royal Mint, present day.

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

The Weeping Woman Goes Missing

In 1937, Spanish artist Pablo Picasso completed one of the great artworks of the 20th century; Guernica, his epic take on the horrors of war. Inspired by the bombing of the town of Guernica in the Spanish Civil War, this dramatic piece represented one of Picasso's few forays into political commentary, and created a storm of controversy when it was first unveiled.

Guernica, The National Museum of 20th Century Art, Madrid.

The painting itself presents a variety of riffs on the theme of suffering; bodies are dismembered, a cavalry horse screams, debris and refuse are strewn chaotically. Three and a half metres tall, more than seven metres wide, and deliberately provocative, Guernica provides a disturbing vision of some of the worst excesses of human behaviour.

While Picasso worked on this piece he was shadowed by Dora Marr, a young photographer who was documenting his technique and method. The two became lovers and Marr later served as a model for a series of paintings often viewed as companion pieces to Guernica, the Weeping Woman series.

Photographer Dora Marr.


Weeping Woman, Tate Modern, London.

Completed later in 1937, The Weeping Woman pictures again offer a depiction of suffering, although this time set in the everyday. Picasso hoped that the more intimate setting would provide a more universal image, allowing an easier connection for the audience than the more extreme imagery of Guernica.

The painting shown above is the last in the series, with the different canvasses finding their way into different collections around the world. In 1985 one of these, formerly owned by Picasso's daughter, was acquired by the National Gallery of Victoria (NGV).


The Weeping Woman, NGV, Melbourne.

With a price tag of $1.6 million, this Weeping Woman was, at that time, the most expensive artwork in a public collection in Australia. NGV Director Patrick McCaughey was well pleased with his pricey coup, declaring that the portrait would 'haunt Melbourne for the next hundred years.'

On, or around, August 4, 1986, the painting was stolen.


But little did McCaughey know, that in a way the painting had been removed to the ACT.

That same morning, 'The Age' newspaper received a letter from unknown persons, claiming responsibility for the theft. Calling themselves the Australian Cultural Terrorists (ACT), the thieves also issued an eccentric set of demands, including an increase in Government funding for the arts, and the establishment of an annual prize for young artists. The thieves threatened to destroy the painting if their demands were not met.


Patrick McCaughey

McCaughey fronted a press conference in the afternoon to break the news to the wider public and appeal for the paintings safe return. 'If the picture is ruined or damaged in any way, this gallery will never be able to afford another Picasso,' he solemnly declared.

The police investigation of the theft then began in earnest. Investigators theorised that the thieves may have hidden in the gallery overnight, removing the painting from its frame and placing the registrars card while the building was empty. Then, in the morning, they could have simply walked out; the NGV's Weeping Woman measured only 55 x 47 centimetres, so could easily have been concealed in a bag or under a coat.

The NGV's moat was drained, the building searched and the staff questioned, but clues were scarce. The only real leads were the ransom letters, two more of which arrived in the week following the theft; these new letters mocked the police and McCaughey, but saved its most vitriolic comments for State Arts Minister Race Matthews, who was referred to as a 'mouldy bag of gas.'

Picasso Theft, by Juan Davila.

The arts community's response  was mixed.

Many artists publicly decried the theft, while a smaller number recognised merit in the ACT's demands for increased arts funding. Chilean painter Juan Davila painted a picture inspired by the crime, Picasso Theft, which he offered as a replacement to the NGV (this artwork was itself stolen from a small gallery in Sydney), while a private gallery in Adelaide curated a show of copies of Weeping Woman, all created by local artists.

Meanwhile, the official investigation went nowhere.



Two days later, a telephone call was received by 'The Age' from someone who identified themselves as a member of the ACT. They advised that the Weeping Woman could be found in locker 227 at Southern Cross station.

Police, television crews, and one very harassed art gallery director descended on the station. A custodian jimmied the locker open with a crowbar, and the painting was found inside, wrapped in brown paper. A relieved McCaughey told the press, 'It will go behind bullet proof glass this time, and be bolted to the wall!'

'The Age' reports the recovery, August 20 1986.

So who stole the painting?

McCaughey's story has caused many to point the finger at Mark Howson, but the gallery director himself did not think this likely. Howson had no criminal record, and was not known to be associated with any radical groups. At most, McCaughey thought Howson may have known the thieves and so passed on a message that the authorities were closing in. Or, McCaughey's meeting with the artist, and the paintings subsequent return, may have been a simple coincidence.

But whatever the truth of this part of the story, no one has ever been charged with the theft.

An official enquiry into the incident turned up no new evidence, and so could draw few conclusions. It's report was released to little fanfare at the end of August, after which the police abandoned their investigation altogether. With the artwork returned safely, all enthusiasm for any further pursuit of the thieves disappeared,

'I was thoroughly sick of the whole thing,' said McCaughey,

The theft did turn the spotlight onto the NGV's rather lax security, and some measures were taken to tighten these up. Among the changes, the chairs used by the gallery guards were removed on the orders of McCaughey, who decreed that these staff members were now expected to walk around the galleries while on duty, and so keep a more watchful eye on the gallery's visitors.

Deprived of their chairs, the guards went on strike.