St George's Hall Theatre
Apr. 21st, 2006 11:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seandcSo, short week, after long weekend. My week was a bit shorter still, since I took off early on Tuesday to get some researching in at the Battye Library. I managed to find a little some info including a picture of my great-great-grandfather, and on a great-great-aunt who was awarded an MBE.
I also found an article about the end of the St Georges Hall Theatre for you,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
boywhocantsayno - most of what came under the subject wasn't readily available, being either in rare book archives or other places I have no idea where to access them. No pictures unfortunately.
Silence of the lambs
IVAN KING bemoans the destruction of Perth's historical buildings
Round the corner from the Playhouse Theatre stands a forlorn architectural remnant. Nothing left in Perth demonstrates better the pioneers' deep yearning to transplant the artistic environment of England to the land of Sun, Sand, Sin and Sore Eyes. It is a clumsy colonial copy of the portico which fronts London's Lyceum Theatre.
Our replica in Hay Street was the entrance to St George's Hall, the city's first attempt at a theatre. Opened in 1879, the hall was home for much of our early music and drama. Though in its later years it was used as office space, it could now be a dinky little venue for recitals and exhibitions - with that six-columned portico giving today's audiences a constant reminder of their cultural history.
Yet in 1986, St George's Hall was demolished without so much as a peep of collective protest from Perth's arts "community". Were they so preoccupied with their own pots, parts, plays, poems, paintings and productions that they could not scan the broader cultural horizon and fight for its survival? Indeed did many of them even know that St George's Hall existed?
In Sydney recently, two former members of that WA arts "community" shouted me breakfast at the Sebel Town House. No hotel could be more cosmopolitan-showbiz, but the conversation at our table was ... Perth. Over a decade ago my hosts headed eastward to realise dreams and fulfill ambitions. To a large degree they have achieved their aims. Both are ensconced in the Sydney scene, secure in their social and professional lives.
One, a TV writer has, however, the profound need to return each Christmas to sit on the beach and watch the sun set over the Indian Ocean. "It revives me and keeps me going for the rest of the year," he said.
The other had just returned from Perth - his first visit since his departure. Though still finding something lacking in the city's social structure, he too found great comfort in the environment. "It was very unsettling. I thought I'd got Perth out of my system, but I haven't," he said.
In a provocative mood, I ended the conversation with the observation: "You know what we've been discussing, don't you? Land rights. You've all but admitted that your 'spirits' lie in the Western Coastal Strip. Now you know what the Aborigines are on about."
But what if they had returned seeking renewal, identity and inspiration from the St Georges Terrace of their childhood?
Those were the days when whole stretches of the Terrace seemed to glow in the honied tones of donnybrook stone buildings. If architecture can be an art form, then it's reasonable to pose the following question. Why didn't all those in "The Arts" marshal their disparate groups and campaign - creatively of course - against the destruction of our finest streetscape?
We have a vast literary, musical and theatrical tradition to call upon when needed. Sometimes it soars to a level above our appreciation, but it's part of us and it's inconceivable that it be taken from us. Yet in the Terrace we allow the architectural equivalent of a book burning.
Now we have forbidding walls of concrete and glass shielding the city-goer from nature's extravaganza, the Swan River. Those sky-scrapers seem also to block the view from the analytical gaze of contemporary painters. How often do you find the Swan celebrated in oils in our State Art Gallery? Great artists have all but mythologised Sydney Harbour, but when was the glory of our magnificent waterway last captured on canvas?
There seems little point in complaining that much of today's visual art is brutal, bland, angular and ugly. Perhaps the young artist was inspired by St Georges Terrace style of '91.
We speak of the cultural cringe as though it's merely a matter of preferring Hollywood movies to Barron Films. No, the greatest casualty of the cultural cringe has been our eyesight.
We couldn't see the glory of the Swan, so we reclaimed much of it for a freeway. We were blind to the beauty of donnybrook stone, so we replaced it with internationally-approved towers of glass. Then after we'd bulldozed everything in sight, we proclaimed a Heritage Act.
SBS Television once ran a series Great Cities of the World. The viewer was taken on a guided tour of each metropolis by a famous inhabitant. The great Greek actress, Merlina Mercouri, showed us Athens. She and the city seemed indivisible. So much so, she could lean against an ancient wall and say with deep and quivering passion, "I love these stones."
NIDA has yet to train the thespian who can stand in the Terrace and breathe life into the line, "I just adore these slabs of pre-stressed concrete."
From: Arts West (Melville, W.A.), Volume 1, Number 4, July/August 1991, page 21.
When I read the description of The Terrace, it makes me think of a the part closest to the CBD. At the corner of Barrack Street and St Georges Terrace stands a large glass tower. Before they switched the terminus from Wellington St (north of CBD) to Esplanade (south) I used to travel up past this building every day - and think how much I'd hate working in there - full glass walls in full sun. Smooth, but that's it. I have a photo of the same scene from I guess it's the late 50s, the building there at the time was much prettier. At least the Allendale Square development a mini-block along is somewhat more visually interesting that flat-to-street smoothness, with the main towers set back for a little planned courtyard. I wonder how the Terrace end of the Century City site is going to look - shame the park is gone, but hopefully it won't be the huge flat block the old ANZ building was (which was on that site before being "imploded" in the early 90s). All those flat buildings turned the Terrace into one huge wind tunnel!
It's starting to get chilly in the mornings now (finally), sometimes the river's still enough to spot smaller fishes jumping out of the water (and probably doing the fishy equivalent of sticking their tongues out at the nearest birds). We have some of the warmer weather seekers on show at the moment though. Last week, the local shops had bunnies on display for Easter. This week, the first of the school holidays? They now have snakes! Interesting to watch, although they should've doubled the size of the viewing-boxes, especially for the larger pythons (I didn't get a good look at one side, couldn't get close enough).calliopes_pen, do I get the morbid and creepifying prize for noting that the side I did get to see close-up had mostly poisonous snakes, like tiger snakes, death adders and dugites? ;)
I also found an article about the end of the St Georges Hall Theatre for you,
boywhocantsayno - most of what came under the subject wasn't readily available, being either in rare book archives or other places I have no idea where to access them. No pictures unfortunately.Silence of the lambs
IVAN KING bemoans the destruction of Perth's historical buildings
Round the corner from the Playhouse Theatre stands a forlorn architectural remnant. Nothing left in Perth demonstrates better the pioneers' deep yearning to transplant the artistic environment of England to the land of Sun, Sand, Sin and Sore Eyes. It is a clumsy colonial copy of the portico which fronts London's Lyceum Theatre.
Our replica in Hay Street was the entrance to St George's Hall, the city's first attempt at a theatre. Opened in 1879, the hall was home for much of our early music and drama. Though in its later years it was used as office space, it could now be a dinky little venue for recitals and exhibitions - with that six-columned portico giving today's audiences a constant reminder of their cultural history.
Yet in 1986, St George's Hall was demolished without so much as a peep of collective protest from Perth's arts "community". Were they so preoccupied with their own pots, parts, plays, poems, paintings and productions that they could not scan the broader cultural horizon and fight for its survival? Indeed did many of them even know that St George's Hall existed?
In Sydney recently, two former members of that WA arts "community" shouted me breakfast at the Sebel Town House. No hotel could be more cosmopolitan-showbiz, but the conversation at our table was ... Perth. Over a decade ago my hosts headed eastward to realise dreams and fulfill ambitions. To a large degree they have achieved their aims. Both are ensconced in the Sydney scene, secure in their social and professional lives.
One, a TV writer has, however, the profound need to return each Christmas to sit on the beach and watch the sun set over the Indian Ocean. "It revives me and keeps me going for the rest of the year," he said.
The other had just returned from Perth - his first visit since his departure. Though still finding something lacking in the city's social structure, he too found great comfort in the environment. "It was very unsettling. I thought I'd got Perth out of my system, but I haven't," he said.
In a provocative mood, I ended the conversation with the observation: "You know what we've been discussing, don't you? Land rights. You've all but admitted that your 'spirits' lie in the Western Coastal Strip. Now you know what the Aborigines are on about."
But what if they had returned seeking renewal, identity and inspiration from the St Georges Terrace of their childhood?
Those were the days when whole stretches of the Terrace seemed to glow in the honied tones of donnybrook stone buildings. If architecture can be an art form, then it's reasonable to pose the following question. Why didn't all those in "The Arts" marshal their disparate groups and campaign - creatively of course - against the destruction of our finest streetscape?
We have a vast literary, musical and theatrical tradition to call upon when needed. Sometimes it soars to a level above our appreciation, but it's part of us and it's inconceivable that it be taken from us. Yet in the Terrace we allow the architectural equivalent of a book burning.
Now we have forbidding walls of concrete and glass shielding the city-goer from nature's extravaganza, the Swan River. Those sky-scrapers seem also to block the view from the analytical gaze of contemporary painters. How often do you find the Swan celebrated in oils in our State Art Gallery? Great artists have all but mythologised Sydney Harbour, but when was the glory of our magnificent waterway last captured on canvas?
There seems little point in complaining that much of today's visual art is brutal, bland, angular and ugly. Perhaps the young artist was inspired by St Georges Terrace style of '91.
We speak of the cultural cringe as though it's merely a matter of preferring Hollywood movies to Barron Films. No, the greatest casualty of the cultural cringe has been our eyesight.
We couldn't see the glory of the Swan, so we reclaimed much of it for a freeway. We were blind to the beauty of donnybrook stone, so we replaced it with internationally-approved towers of glass. Then after we'd bulldozed everything in sight, we proclaimed a Heritage Act.
SBS Television once ran a series Great Cities of the World. The viewer was taken on a guided tour of each metropolis by a famous inhabitant. The great Greek actress, Merlina Mercouri, showed us Athens. She and the city seemed indivisible. So much so, she could lean against an ancient wall and say with deep and quivering passion, "I love these stones."
NIDA has yet to train the thespian who can stand in the Terrace and breathe life into the line, "I just adore these slabs of pre-stressed concrete."
From: Arts West (Melville, W.A.), Volume 1, Number 4, July/August 1991, page 21.
When I read the description of The Terrace, it makes me think of a the part closest to the CBD. At the corner of Barrack Street and St Georges Terrace stands a large glass tower. Before they switched the terminus from Wellington St (north of CBD) to Esplanade (south) I used to travel up past this building every day - and think how much I'd hate working in there - full glass walls in full sun. Smooth, but that's it. I have a photo of the same scene from I guess it's the late 50s, the building there at the time was much prettier. At least the Allendale Square development a mini-block along is somewhat more visually interesting that flat-to-street smoothness, with the main towers set back for a little planned courtyard. I wonder how the Terrace end of the Century City site is going to look - shame the park is gone, but hopefully it won't be the huge flat block the old ANZ building was (which was on that site before being "imploded" in the early 90s). All those flat buildings turned the Terrace into one huge wind tunnel!
It's starting to get chilly in the mornings now (finally), sometimes the river's still enough to spot smaller fishes jumping out of the water (and probably doing the fishy equivalent of sticking their tongues out at the nearest birds). We have some of the warmer weather seekers on show at the moment though. Last week, the local shops had bunnies on display for Easter. This week, the first of the school holidays? They now have snakes! Interesting to watch, although they should've doubled the size of the viewing-boxes, especially for the larger pythons (I didn't get a good look at one side, couldn't get close enough).
calliopes_pen, do I get the morbid and creepifying prize for noting that the side I did get to see close-up had mostly poisonous snakes, like tiger snakes, death adders and dugites? ;)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 06:06 pm (UTC)More than likely, yes. Always good to know which ones can kill you, though. You never know when it will be useful to know.
Did I out-creepify you? :D
no subject
Date: 2006-05-03 03:20 pm (UTC)Nope :P Just out-practicaled me so far :lol:
no subject
Date: 2006-04-22 04:18 am (UTC)I was particularly interested in the bit about the domed roof - when Toronto built the SkyDome (http://themegacity.com/attractions/skydome.htm) (back in 1989, I think?), a big deal was made about its retractable roof. I didn't realize that it was such an old concept in architecture, nor that the technology existed when the theatre was built.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-03 03:18 pm (UTC)And as you thought, His Maj is these days a heritage site, and museum while still being an active theatre.
As for the dome, maybe the one in His Maj was an early attempt at making an opening dome for a building. The time's right for all sorts of experimenting, the state was still riding high on the Gold Rush. Technology? Without looking at something more in-depth, who knows how they did it? It could've even been with the good ol' elbow grease and a big heave. The SkyDome probably had the Latest and Greatest the 80s could provide to cause all the hubbub.
Anyway, I found something on the St George Hall at last, I'll post that soon.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-03 08:40 pm (UTC)D'oh! Reading comprehension is my friend. :)
His Majesty's (the one in the photos) is still going alive and well (I pass it every Friday to get to the comic shop), it's just the one I was able to find pictures of at the time.
And as you thought, His Maj is these days a heritage site, and museum while still being an active theatre.
Aha. Excellent. :)
As for the dome, maybe the one in His Maj was an early attempt at making an opening dome for a building. The time's right for all sorts of experimenting, the state was still riding high on the Gold Rush. Technology? Without looking at something more in-depth, who knows how they did it? It could've even been with the good ol' elbow grease and a big heave.
Maybe... or a massive pulley system and lots of goose grease?
The SkyDome probably had the Latest and Greatest the 80s could provide to cause all the hubbub.
Yes, it was pretty fancy. I don't know if anything has been built since that's fancier, or if that's still state-of-the-art.
Anyway, I found something on the St George Hall at last, I'll post that soon.
I look forward to reading it.