Transition's trauma

Upper Pond, Butt Park, off Eastern Valley Way, Castlecrag

There is a list somewhere that ranks the stress caused by major life-events. I feel as though I have undergone the top three or four during the first three months of this year. But slowly, ever so slowly, the fog is beginning to lift. And with the fog, goes the 'black dog'.

These two images show you but one of the stresses, one that goes to the heart of character. The other stresses were a younger brother in intensive care, and on the verge, throughout January; an older brother having to be uprooted from one aged-care facility to another; moving in with my daughter and her family as our own form of aged-care, as my degenerative neurological 'syndrome' heads toward the pointy end; being always on-tap for my grand-daughter; and discovering that another grand-child is on the way. These are merely external stressors.

The stress that goes to the heart of character involves moving from the grunge of the inner-city urban jungle, to the beauty of the lower-north-shore suburban oasis. It is the stress of self-definition. Instead of finding my photographic delight in gutters, and the beauty of decay, I now am reduced to finding my photographic fodder in manicured gardens, and the natural world clinging to the coves of Sydney harbour.

This has been the hardest journey.

The Porterhouse, Cnr Riley & Campbell, Surry Hills

Sunday in my City - Sydney Arcade, Take 2

Please vote for the City Daily Photo Blog May Theme Day. It is currently nip-and-tuck between Statues, Funny Signs and Construction.

The first incarnation of the Sydney Arcade (1881) was a set-square from King Street to George Street, in behind the Darrel-Lea corner. Thomas Rowe designed three arcades during the boom period of the late 19th century, the sydney Arcade in 1881, the Royal Arcade in 1882, and the Imperial Arcade in 1891. Effectively, they are all gone, with the internals of this arcade being replaced with 29 floors of office space. Telstra occupies Levels 2 to 15. The facade on the King Street frontage was retained and is the closing shot of this post.


The new Sydney Arcade arcs from King Street through to the Pitt Street Mall, on the site where I can remember going up to the Coles cafeteria on the first floor for a cheap meal when I was at Teachers' College in the late '60s. It is a pleasure to walk through, but, oh why, did we have to lose the elegance of the original?


A member of the Sunday in my City community.

Tobacco, cigars ...

The Australian Workers' Union building, Castlereagh Street between Bathurst & Liverpool Streets

What do you think the old sign says? Something, Branch, Tobacco, Cigars, something.

Postscript
Jim from Sydney - City & Suburbs nipped down and did a bit of detective work for me. He reckons it says "Leading Brand Tobacco, Cigars & Cigarettes". Most appreciated, Jim.

The Darlinghurst Reception House

A post for Diane whose mother worked at the Reception House in the 50s and 60s

Constructed in 1867, the Darlinghurst Reception House was to help the expanding city cater for the needs of the psychiatrically impaired (lunatics) rather than tossing them into gaol. Located on the corner of Forbes and Burton Streets Darlinghurst, it was constructed opposite the Darlinghurst Gaol and next to the Police Station. The gaol was at the rear of the Supreme Court of NSW. In 1958 its name changed to the Darlinghurse Admission Centre, but was closed down completely in 1961 when a larger facility was opened in the suburb of Ryde.


On a triangular handkerchief of land, the original building is now jammed with unsightly additions, temporary and not so. It is surrounded by fences and walls. It is officially named the Caritas Centre of St Vincent's Hospital, but also houses the Anxiety Disorders Clinic and the Professional Unit in Psychiatry of the University of New South Wales.


Tomorrow, come with me as I wander across the road and into the old Darlinghurst Gaol.

A thing of beauty is a joy ... until renovated!

Built in 1912 and decommissioned in 1983, White Bay was a coal-fired power station built to add more electricity to the Sydney grid with the extension of the urban train system and the immense popularity of the tramways system. The site covers 3.9 hectacres of land about 4km from the city centre. It is located in the suburb of Rozelle on the shores the Bay. It is no longer accessible to the public although occasionally the Historic Houses Trust conducts tours but, as with tours of the Tank Stream, these tours sell as rapidly as Carols at Kings!


The skeletal remains have settled further into the primordial slime since '83. That is a long time with no decision on the future of the site. In 2000 ownership passed from the NSW Electricity Commission (its heirs and successors forever!) to the Sydney Harbour Foreshore Authority for a mere $4m AUD. Its zoning means that it cannot be used for housing.

Hah ... that is why it has sat there that long! Waiting for a rezoning. Glad that Frankie Sartor no longer has control of that particular function of state government. See what I can see in this final image? A graveyard for old boats: Kanangra, Waratah, John Oxley. Now where did I put those fencing wire snippers?

Those who cannot remember the past

"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it" aphorised George Santayana.


The old Rozelle Tram Sheds are alongside the Johnson Creek canal tucked in behind Harold Park Paceway. They have been vandalised in an overwhelmingly tragic and demeaning manner. Trams are a sorely missed iconic reminder of our city's past: a reminder of the foolish deeds of politicians and the futile fad-following of the hoi polloi.

Many thanks to Peter Liebeskind for the above two images. He has been most generous with access to his Flickr site

During the 1950s the motor car ruled the roost, and the NRMA pressured the lilly-livered pollies - the likes of Cahill, Heffron, Renshaw and Askin - into removing this cheap and efficient means of mass people movement from our streets, to make way for the ascendency of cars and their concrete flyovers. The tramway was in place from 1861 until its winding down in the 1950s and closure in 1961. It had a maximum street mileage of 291 km in 1923 and at one time could boast in excess of 1,500 trams!


The Rozelle Tram Sheds opened in 1904 and closed in 1958. Ownership rested with the government for 50 years until being transferred to the NSW Harness Racing Corp in 2002. The damage had been done during those 50 years of neglect. Now these buildings and their contents cannot be given away.


Here, in 1955, an O class tram (thanks to Bruce Caspersonn who corrected an error in the text here) rattles out of the sheds, along the canal and into The Crescent heading up Ross Street towards Parramatta Road and, thence, into the city to its terminus at Fort Macquarie (Bennelong Point). This trip was two sections and cost 1/-.

With all the developments in the preceding 54 years, it is difficult to reproduce the '55 image. The curve is now underneath the circular overhang of the pacing track - it was too dangerous to venture under there. Standing as close as I could - would that I had the guts to jump into the canal! - I took a photograph to the south (the concrete monstrosity) and to the north (the canal).


Such a sobering set of images ... Let us pay tribute to the past and to its people.


Image 1: Taken in 1930 as a tram heads West up Broadway just prior to turning into Glebe Point Road. Sydney University is on the left.
Image 2: Taken in 1957 as trams turn to their right from Parramatta Road into Glebe Point Road.
Image 3: Taken in 1958 as a tram progresses along Glebe Point Road.

I also wish to extend my appreciation to LindsayBridge for access to the superb set of tram images on his Flickr site

Johnson Creek canal

Entering what I have realised is Rozelle Bay, Johnson's Creek is a facade: the front is beautiful but what lies behind is tawdry, as this series of images atests. This Labrador and his human have an early morning ritual. The dog fords to the centre of the canal just before it enters the bay then, with his guardian walking the "tow path" he dog-paddles around to the next set of steps which would have to be a good 200m!

Over there, across the bay, is the start of the ship-building neighbourhood. More of that next week. In the early morning light, the higgledy-piggedly yards are drop-dead gorgeous. Twizzle on my heel, looking up the creek/canal, there is the pedestrian bridge from which I took photos of the viaduct mid-week.


These two areas of greensward aren't contiguous, as these images might imply but they do give a good feel for the first third of my morning walk around Glebe. I walk for about 15 minutes through this type of terrain and try to envisage the geography when the First Fleet arrived. Richard Johnson came over on the First Fleet in 1788 and Governor Philip granted him land on which to build a church. This sort of land granted for ecclesiastic purposes is known as a "glebe". Johnson was a bit of an ineffectual minister and it was not until the arrival of the fire-breathing Samuel Marsden, that the life of the church in the new colony progressed.


Travelling further up the creek/canal, I look back toward the viaduct that I have been weaving in and out of all week. That white dribble is most definitely chemicals leaching from the mortar. And very ugly it is too! Look around to the south again and be confronted with the gruesome ugliness of the Harold Park Paceway which apparently needed more space for its circular track. This is the bit I most definitely would not want to walk at night.



These two images were taken from the Wigram Road bridge, the first looking north down the creek and the second looking south, up the creek. The graffiti is overwhelming. And ugly. And baffling. The entire area is owned and upkept (hah!) by the Water Board.


This was as far as I travelled: the Booth Street overpass in Annandale. Google Map tells me that Johnson Creek continues on up through Mallett Street Camperdown, until it is sourced somewhere in Stanmore. I suspect it is like the iconic Tank Stream in the CBD which only exists underground.

Richard Johnson's contribution to the fledling colony is commemorated in Johnson's Bay, Johnson's Creek and Johnson Street, the main thoroughfare through Annandale. Not bad for a bit of a loser ...

TruPeace

Taken on t'other side from yesterday and just at the end of the curve - but within a few minutes. Just after 6am. I tried all sorts of apertures and shutter speeds. Wanted clarity and colour and sky. But could not manage it all.

How did they manage to paint that word there? Lean down from the tram tracks or use a ladder and climb up? The letters are not wonky ... ahh ... not wonky because they used the shape of the bricks to form the letters! Yes ... I am so dense at times. Duh!

Warm inner glow

Red bin

Underneath the arches: a weeklong focus

Between the end of WW1 and the start of the Depression, working-class families in the inner city did it tough. Life was constrained, both mentally and physically. The extension of the tramway line in the early '20s opened up employment, just as it opened up movement from suburb to suburb. This viaduct became a physical symbol of unity as it wound along the bays and through the spurs. The arches were welcomed into the working class sporting life of the municipality. Whereas to the east of the city thorough-bred horse racing, golf and sailing prospered, here in the inner-west preferences veered towards pigeons, greyhounds and harness racing.

The original tramway viaduct now carries the Lite Rail over Jubilee Park and the Johnson Street Canal.

Decisions, decisions, decisions ...

It's a tough life, and a tough life requires tough decisions. Dearie me ... a satellite dish or a new front fence?

Much scratching of the head and contemplation of the navel would have been required before that thorny issue was resolved!

Batty Street, Balmain, near The Bald Rock hotel

Reussdale, Bridge Road, Glebe

Built in the mid 1860s by Francis Reuss, this once-gracious Victorian mansion
undergoing restoration is one of the joys of my new walk to work. Hewit Avenue (in reality more like a lane)runs along the western boundary of the block on which Reussdale and The Abbey are sited. Enveloped by massive trees, I shall endeavour a dappled mid-morning shot, to better showcase the charms of dereliction.

Old'n'mucky lane in Glebe

Tooday I am moving house - keep me in your thoughts. I am sure there will be a modicum of cursing and cussing. Together with bruises and ricked backs.


I am moving from the inner-city working class suburb of Waterloo to the even more inner-city working class suburb of Glebe. These images were made last week in the laneways around my new abode: I adore old and rickety and rusty. This move was meant to be!


One of my first jobbies will be to remake this image of the gate latch: I am annoyed with myself as the concept was great. I just over-reached ... drats.