Museum Surprises (or how to get your child to turn off his Nintendo)

7 Year Old Inspired by Durer

Thanksgiving weekend is often one big overload; too much driving, too much food. This year I decided to break up our annual upstate NY Food n’ Family fest with a day trip. As a child my parents often took me to Williamstown Massachusetts and I wanted to take my kids to see it. The drive, I remembered, was always beautiful, hilly, full of steep inclines. There were terrifying moments with Dad, in the driver’s seat, making hairpin turns at 75mph while pointing out the window to show me the sights.

We'd usually go to the Sterling Clark Institute. I told my sons about this huge museum packed with French Impressionists.  Mostly Renoirs. I didn’t like Renoir as a child and I’m still not a huge fan. But I was always enthralled by the huge painting of Nymphs and Satyr by Bougereau and a naive wood carving by Gauguin that hung over a doorway.

Neither of these pieces was there anymore. Even the Renoirs were on tour. And the museum itself, while impressive for a small collection, was pretty…well…small. But what they do they do well. And they currently are running a fantastic Albrecht Durer exhibit. http://www.clarkart.edu/exhibitions/durer/content/exhibition.cfm His skill was amazing, his imagination mindboggling, his fantastical woodcuts and engravings were ground breaking at the time. But for a seven year old I wondered how a day in the museum would compare with a day full of TV and Wii games.

I’ll tell you how it compared. My boy fell in love with the artwork. There was a Durer Drawing Day underway when we arrived. He and I were handed pads of papers, portable drawing boards, some supplies, and the opportunity to sit for a lesson with a “real artists.” We concluded that WE were “real artists” and skipped the lessons. We headed in to see the drawings.  My son came face to face with some amazing pieces, some fantastic symbolism. Three-headed spewing dragons.  Angels battling demons. Odd looking roaming animals. What more could a kid want?

He didn’t want to copy Durer's artwork. He wanted to be inspired.  People sat all over the floor, drawing in corners, on benches, against the walls. I saw many children that were clearly gifted and spent hours on one piece. My boy’s drawings were quick and constant. He plowed through the drawing pad. He refused to leave. I dragged him to see other artwork but he was too moved by the Durers. He came back and drew his own demons. Angels. Gravestones. Skeletons floating into the sky. We went back to my mother’s house later and he dragged out the paints. He painted more.

I bought him a book of Durer’s woodcuts. “My first art book” he said proudly. It was a good Thanksgiving weekend. My boy is inspired and I’m truly thankful. 

Melbourne Heritage in the News

Heritage Lost in a Forest of Towers

Rohan Storey (National Trust)

The Age - Opinion - 19 November 2010

(Pictures and captions added by me)

Plans for the Celtic Club (1890) to be mostly demolished and a 40-storey tower added

Watered-down controls mean the city's past is overshadowed or gone. As a young heritage activist in 1990, I was shocked by the demolition of old city buildings, which I had taken for granted as protected, such as the art deco Australia Hotel.

Through that interest I ended up with a job at the National Trust, and I'm still there. Soon I came to understand and appreciate the rich heritage of the CBD, and the planning controls then in force.

The ''vision'' was pretty straightforward, and tailored to Melbourne's unique built-form character. Most importantly, areas such as Chinatown, Flinders Lane, Hardware Street and Bourke Hill were protected as heritage areas or by height limits, such as the 40-metre height limit over the central shopping area along Swanston Street, packed with heritage buildings.

Heritage value would be considered for all ''graded'' buildings, and they would be generally retained, not reduced to a facade. (The loss of the Australia Hotel turned out to be a glaring exception.)

Large developments were to have low podiums at street level, with any tower above well setback, so as not to dominate the street or adjacent heritage buildings. The basic control for these was a bonus system, in which the maximum floor area depended on the size of the site (the ''plot ratio'') and could be increased through providing benefits as such as heritage restoration, a new arcade, or bluestone footpaths. The bonus system is commonly used in modern Western cities, including London, San Francisco and even New York, the home of the skyscraper. This was all established by the Cain government in the early 1980s, and was supported through to the early '90s by the Melbourne City Council. But it was greatly undermined in 1997 as part of the Kennett-era reorganisation of local government and planning.

The new rules for the CBD kept most of the words of the ''vision'', but made nearly everything ''discretionary''; plot ratio became just one of many preferred ''outcomes'', with no bonus system. The podium-setback rules, retention of light to the streets and even height limits became just items on a list of ''preferred built-form outcomes''. Heritage value would not be considered unless the place had a ''heritage overlay'', and outside the precincts this was based on a list created in 1982.

Terraces from 1870s can be demolished at any time, despite their historical significance.

The only mandatory control remaining in the CBD is the 40-metre height limit protecting the central retail area - the lanes and arcades are now stuffed with the ever more popular bars and cafes occupying the numerous heritage buildings.

The rest of the city has not been so lucky; after years of creeping concessions, the old vision is all but dead. Senior planners now openly admit they no longer consider plot ratio and apartment towers are blossoming like toadstools after rain. What's more, they are clustering together with barely room to swing the proverbial cat, rising straight from the ground and replacing heritage buildings that should have been listed years ago.

The northern fringe of the city and the ''little'' streets are fertile ground; there are seven towers of more than 40 storeys under way or permitted between Elizabeth and Swanston streets, north of La Trobe. Franklin Street is now decidedly gloomy in the winter months. The Melbourne City Council has been wringing its hands recently that Southbank is getting to be too much like Hong Kong - but at the other end of the city Hong Kong has already arrived.

The Stork Hotel (1855) was recently demolished to soon accommodate this
67-storey tower.

With planning rules ignored, a small site such as the charming little Stork Hotel (just demolished) can now accommodate a 67-storey tower, no setbacks, no serious questions asked. Even a pair of 1870 terraces in Little Lonsdale Street near Exhibition Street can be replaced by a 35-storey tower. Never mind that there are two other towers, and more proposed, only a few buildings away. The latest shocker is the (unlisted) Celtic Club, 40 storeys straight up, with the Victorian facade kept like wrapping paper around the base - facadism at its worst.

Even the ''Paris end'' of Collins Street is suffering, with a tower proposed in front of Nauru House with little setback, and far exceeding the ''preferred'' plot ratio - more blocked light, and total domination of the heritage context, the opposite of the vision applied to 101 Collins 20 years ago.

I'm not against tall buildings, or even having lots of them, but they shouldn't steal light and air from pedestrians (or other tower-dwellers), dominate heritage streetscapes or replace buildings that should have been heritage listed long ago.

It's time the council and the Minister for Planning - who has final say over almost all the towers - looked again at their planning scheme, and not only promoted the preservation of heritage buildings and areas, but the liveability and unique built character of Melbourne. It's our city, too, and when our heritage buildings are gone we can't get them back.

Rohan Storey is architectural historian with the National Trust of Australia.

http://www.theage.com.au/opinion/society-and-culture/heritage-lost-in-a-forest-of-city-towers-20101118-17z7o.html?comments=13

Little Lon: Melbourne's Vanished Community and Laneways

Lonsdale Street, 2010 (my own photo)

Walking past these days, you would be forgiven for thinking that the city block bordered by Lonsdale, Little Lonsdale, Exhibition and Spring Streets is just like any other. Glass skyscrapers and concrete office blocks overlook a handful of nondescript shops and cafes catering to city workers. It all seems pretty ordinary. So ordinary, in fact, that you might never know that this was once Little Lon: a so-called "den of iniquity," a slum filled with brothels, opium dens and, yet, as recent evidence has shown, a vibrant community and network of laneways. 

Lonsdale Street, 2010 (my own photo)

Little Lon first emerged as a working-class, residential precinct in the 1840s and 50s. Initially, it attracted impoverished immigrants, mainly from Ireland, who were unable to afford housing in the more reputable parts of the city. By 1900, it was one of the most culturally diverse areas in Melbourne, with Chinese, Italian, Syrian and Jewish residents all living cheek-by-jowl in rows of small cottages. Little Lon was filled with cottage industries started up by its residents, such as cabinet making, clothing manufacturing and printing. Despite its sordid reputation for crime and debauchery, it seems that Little Lon was also home to a dynamic and resourceful community of diverse people. 

Cumberland Place in Little Lon, 1901 (Museum Victoria)

This is not to say that a seedier side did not exist. Little Lon was a notorious red-light district, with eight of its brothels in the nineteenth century owned by the delightfully spirited Madame Brussels! Poet C.J Dennis wrote about the slums and opium dens of Little Lon in The Songs of a Sentimental Bloke (1915) and the Truth newspaper called it "the street of evil." In 1948, the Commonwealth Government compulsorily acquired most of Little Lon, after facing pressure to clean up the area and abolish the slums. The next few decades saw the levelling and redevelopment of the site, including construction of the Commonwealth Centre ('Green Latrine' - now also demolished), Telstra's national headquarters, government office blocks and upmarket residential enclaves.

Melbourne Opium Den, 1896 (State Library of Victoria)

At the time, better housing for the poor was urgently needed. However, it is now interesting to consider how the demolition of Little Lon led to a major part of Melbourne's history and character vanishing forever. The large office blocks subsumed laneways that were once inextricably connected to the lives  and work of the inhabitants of Little Lon. The following two images show a 'before and after' aerial view of the block, firstly in 1925 and then in 2010.

Section of the Mahlstedt map of Melbourne, 1925, showing George Lane,  Leichardt Street, Little Leichardt Street, Gorman Alley, Casselden Place, Griffin Lane and Surry Place. (State Library of Victoria)

Google aerial view of the same area, 2010, showing the Telstra National Headquarters, Department of Human Services and other office blocks. 

As Melburnians, we delight in the fact that our city is made up of unique laneways - in which some of our best restaurants, bars and boutiques are hidden (click here to watch Streetfilm's video about this topic.) And yet, for those of us too young to remember, we seldom consider the vast network of lanes that have been subsumed by large, modern redevelopments of entire city blocks, including Little Lon, the Rialto Tower, Melbourne Central shopping centre, and the list goes on. Losing these lanes inevitably involves losing a sense of Melbourne's past. When the laneways vanish, our connection with (and understanding of) past communities is at risk of vanishing too. 

Birthday party in Casselden Place, Little Lon, 1914 (Museum Victoria)

In my next post, I will look at some of the interesting ways that we can try to gain an insight into the vanished community and laneways of Little Lon. I will visit the Urban Workshop at 50 Lonsdale Street, the one remaining home in Casselden Place and view the fascinating objects discovered during archaeological digs of the site. If you have an idea or any information about Little Lon, please email me! 

References: 

Bate, Weston, Essential But Unplanned: The Story of Melbourne's Lanes (1994)

Hider, Annie, Growing up in the City (interview with Marie Hayes): http://museumvictoria.com.au/littlelons/grow.html

Leckey, John, Low, Degraded Broots? Industry and Entrepreneurialism in Melbourne's Little Lon, 1860-1940 (2004) 

www.emelbourne.com.au

www.museumvictoria.com.au