Lifting the spirit

Art Gallery of NSW, old wing 1896 - 1909

These would have to be two of my favourite buildings in the city. Not just the facades mind you with their towering columns, and glorious, honey-coloured sandstone. If you are a traditionalist like yours truly, the facade stirs the blood. But walk inside and the main area takes one's breath away. The main reading room of the library may have the edge visually. However, the feeling of freedom and creativity that the main court of the AG-NSW engenders can have me on a high for days.

State Library of NSW, Mitchell Wing 1906 - 1910

Then & Now: The ugliest church in all Christendom!

Lang Park is a triangular handkerchief of land on the rise up from George Street to the ridge that goes over the bridge. It is inconsequential, sans meaning, sans beauty. But it resounds with history.

With the second image, I tried to recreate the first, which allegedly was sketched in 1817. St Phillips stood in the centre of what is now Lang Park, but which in the first half of the 19th century was known as "Church Hill". There were churches all around, eventually, but not initially. This was he only church in colonial Sydney until the construction of St James on Macquarie Street. Indeed, the colony was divided into two parishes, St Phillip's Sydney and St John's Parramatta, both presided over by the Reverend Samuel Marsden.

This was the second St Phillip's, the first was burnt down in 1798 - deliberately, I gather. This one on Church Hill had a sod turned in 1798, but was not "open for business" until toward the end of 1800. It was built of shoddy materials to a shoddier design, by shoddy workmen, and was replaced in 1856 by another building about where that windmill is (now we would say "on York Street").

Welsh Church

I have a grandmother born in Wales, and down another branch, a great-grandmother born in Wales. Two of my 2*great-grandparents were from Cornwall, but all the others were from Gloucestershire, just across the bay from Wales. This Welsh Church service is held at St Peter's Church in North Sydney.

A window on the past [4/4]

Of course, for every one of these houses that has been restored, rather than renovated, there is another next door, or across the road, that has been totally botched. Of course, the owners will contend that family requirements have altered over the last century. And this is probably true. But why oh why totally stuff the external appearance of the front. I understand if the rear of the house has been opened 'out'. If the garden is an extension of an enlarged living area. But if the frontage faces either west or south, why bother stuffing it up with pretensios to grandeur. Just go pourchase a different property, as this one is obviously not for you. The houses shown this week would, in my estimation, fetch between $1.75m and $2.25m in the Sydney property market.

A window on the past [3/4]

Sometimes stepping back enables one to get just that little more perspective on the issue. I read somewhere today that photography is warping the way that our brain stores memories. There are times, like the dance concert in which my grand-daughter performed on Sunday, where I do not even take a camera with me. I just want to see what she does, rather than setting up my fingers, and my eyes, for that preordained, perfect keeper. Obviously, though, this house is a keeper, being between 80 and 100 years old. Although, I suspect it is like my father's axe, having had three new heads and a dozen new handles!

A window on the past [2/4]

Perhaps not Bedford Street, but in that general vicinity. Seem to remember turning a corner, and the fall of the sun is slightly different.

A window on the past [1/4]

On my meanders back from High Street, I try different 'ways through the woods'. This way had me looking through windows with a view on the past, a favoured view. This week the focus is upon a selection of awning windows on Federation houses in Bedford Street.

High Street Bakery, Willoughby

Some coffee shops are straight out of 'Home Beautiful", with their white interiors, with aluminium trim, and blonde-wood floors. Other coffee shops, are really greasy burger joints, making ends meet by repackaging their grey-water effluent.

However, MY coffee shop has that gritty patina that screams inner-city-leftie-bleeding-heart-up-yerself-liberal-academic. The coffee is yummo. The croissants are to die for. The baguettes are freshly baked (every 20 minutes), and overflowing with filling. High Street Bakery, owned and run by ex-pat Vietnamese, is ALWAYS busy. A great place in Willoughby to sit and watch the world go by, lost in one's own thoughts.

Parish of Cook;'s River [5/5]

So, how does a parish survive with a dwindling congregation, when the word of The Lord, and the promise of salvation is not enough. Some churches combine together, as was the case with two historic inner city churches, St Philip's and The Garrison. which came together this year as 'The Parish of Church Hill'.

St Peter's of Cooks River is not able to catch the eye of 'the big end of town', and is falling back upon offerring services to the local community, and offering tours and booklets researched by their history group. The list of brickmaker's families who had children baptised at the church is one such tract. The moving force behind this is Laurel Horton, and her website is St Peters Cooks River History Group. Laurel conducts a tour of the church and the graveyard on the first Saturday of each month.

This photograph of St Peters, was taken in the 1890s, when Rev'd Madgwick was the pastor. Even a sponsor to provide a series of informative plaques throughout the graveyard, would be a start. Or a more 'in yer face' way of connecting with a wider community via a sign board that trends on FB and Twitter, would be useful. Like that brilliant chap up in Gosford.

Parish of Cooks River [4/5]

After an hour's wander around and through the graveyard, I turned my attention to the church itself. And no sooner had I done so than the pastor, Andrew, came over to chat with me. He was most generous with his time, even once he realised it was the history of the church which had lured me there, rather than the word of The Lord.

So, he opened it up and gave me a guided tour, and graciously left me alone, asking me to pull the door to on my departure. The building is showing its age, and although loved, could do with more TLC than its meagre parishioners can afford. It started off as a church in a working class area, sans bells and whistles. And although the surrounding streets are becoming just a little bit gentrified, the educated middle-class are not frequenters of churches in this country. I do not think they are at any rate. However, the community is beginning to use the hall for a range of activities that will bring in a bit of money. But it is the history of the place that they are working upon. More on that in the final post.

Parish of Cook's River [3/5]

The church of St Peters was consecrated in November 1839, but the attached graveyard was not consecrated until the December of 1840. However, never letting the niceties of officialdom get in the way, the first body to be interred was that of John Benfield in March 1839. The last interment was Sarah Ann Sargent in 1896. Two thirds of the burials were of children under the age of 10. As with nearly every cemetery around Sydney, so many og those in the graveyard lie in unmarked graves.

The influence of the nearby brickyards can be sensed throughout the graveyard. Look at this tumbling down example of a final resting place, festooned with samples of the brickmaker's art, the structure beneath the ediface resembles the hearth of a brick kiln.

And here is Richard Puckeridge (1811-1881), native born son of Joseph, and father to Mary Ann, of whom I spoke yesterday. Joseph was a brickmaker under James Bloodworth. Richard was a fisherman until his older brother, William, returned from Moreton Bay in 1834. From when Richard married until his death, he made bricks in and around Glebe. In 1863, he was a brickmaker in Harris St. In 1865, he was a brickmaker of 265 Harris St which is close to the infamous Hellhole Quarry on Fig St. In 1880, he was operating out of "Puckeridge's Brickyards" this time in Quarry St.

Parish of Cook's River [2/5]

Where was I? Ahh ... Joseph Puckeridge had been set to work down the brick pits to make building materials for the fledgling colony, which started a run in his family as his son, Richard born in 1811, eventually became a brickmaker, too. So, I googled 'brickmakers in early Sydney, and Bingo! I was introduced to St Peter's Anglican Church at St Peter's in inner-Sydney. Of course, when it was established there was nothing 'inner' about its location whatsoever. It was not even fringe, but rather the 'back of beyond'! However, that list of baptisms of brickmaker's children contained the name Mary Ann Puckeridge, Richard's daughter, Joseph's grand-daughter, and MY great-great-grandmother. The foundation stone for the church had been laid in July 1838, and the building consecrated to the glory of God on 20th November, 1839. Mary Ann was baptised on 26th November, 1839. Just six days later. Being consecrated in 1839, makes St Peter's the second longest continuously operating church in Sydney, after St James on Macquarie Street which was consecrated in 1824. There were others, of course, but they were either burnt down or knocked down. Six days, eh? Blimey ...

Parish of Cooks River [1/5]

I am trying to post five times each week, on a theme. Last week I did not quite make it. Let's see what this week tosses my way. Working extensively on my family tree, my first relative to land on these shores was a Joseph Puckeridge, who did so at 'his Majesty's pleasure' back in 1801, and was set to work making bricks for the new colony. A google search led me to the Anglican Church of St Peters, Cooks River. More on the church and its background tomorrow. Today, I show you a snippet of my journey down to the inner-south of my city.