Castle on a hill

Today's painting on the deck gallery was a panorama of Ways Terrace painted in 1994, when Pyrmont was a work in progress.
Ways Terrace is located at 12-20 Point Street, and is now known more prosaically as the Point Street flats.

P98 Ways Terrace 1994 oil on board 41 x 122cm

Available for sale

 

 

 

 

For nearly two decades, Ways Terrace was the sole occupant of the Point Street hilltop.

A castle on a hill, with a commanding position, precariously positioned on a rocky outcrop towering over the surrounding land.

 

 

P36 'Ways terrace from Lower Jones Bay Road'

1993 ink on paper 31 x 41cm 

Available for sale

However it is neither the rumoured birthplace of King Arthur, a crusader castle nor a Walt Disney fairytale castle, but Housing Commission flats. Many battles have been fought there, but they have involved residents and squatters against developers, residents against various government and semi-government departments, and old residents against new residents. These battles more often featured guerrilla tactics and ferocious political manoeuvering so they have remained uncelebrated in myth and legend.

The "moat" was the railway cutting. Then a second line of defence was excavated when CRI demolished the pretty flower garden planted by Karen and other residents, leaving a gaping wound of bare sandstone. After the 1987 stock market crash, CRI went bankrupt but their legacy of a hole in the ground remained for 15 years.
Two skeletons of dead trees atop a mound stood like an accusing two fingered salute pointing skyward in defiance.
The hole filled with water, becoming a moat to the Ways Terrace “castle” & attracted ducks & pelicans.

P86 Night,Ways Terrace   1994 

oil on canvas  91 x 61 cm

Available for sale 

Ways Terrace was designed by notable architect Professor Leslie Wilkinson in association with architect Joseph Fowell and submitted for the Sydney City Council's Housing Project Competition in 1923, which it won. 

The land had become available after the completion of the construction of the Jones Bay finger wharves and their associated waterfront roadway, Jones Bay Road. The housing formerly on the land in the vicinity had been resumed by the government for wharf purposes and demolished except for a few individual buildings. Ways Terrace marked when the original working class housing was displaced by industrial and commercial development, followed by a concerted government endeavour to resettle residents in better quality accommodation.
It dramatically contrasts how the government attitude to low cost housing in Sydney has changed from the early twentieth century to a century later.

P98 Ways Terrace 1994 oil on board 41 x 122cm

Available for sale

Ways Terrace is a four storey rendered brick apartment block, located prominently on the skyline, in a series of five cubic blocks which step down the hillside. 

Leslie Wilkinson was a leading exponent of inter-war Mediterranean design, & this building is a key element of the Pyrmont cityscape. 

I always tried to pin down what it reminded me of. Finally when I visited Florence, I realized how similar in style it was to the structures built on the bridge over the Arno.

The Florentine character of Ways Terrace is established by the protruding balconies in the form of loggias & the trellised uppermost level of balconies. Plain rendered surfaces cast strong shadows. Windows are rectangular and multiple paned. Round arched openings define the entrance doors & there is a dramatic arched bridge over a laneway to the rear (the Ways Terrace street). The building has shallow pitched, terracotta tiled gable roofs with wide eaves. 

Related Posts

Pyrmont Sandstone - The Lizards of Oz

 

Black Cat of Union Square 

 

The Milky Bar Kid 

 

We Like Sheep

Ground Zero

wake up
look around
memorise what you see
it may be gone tomorrow
everything changes. Someday
there will be nothing but what is remembered
there may be no-one to remember it.
Keep moving
wherever you stand is ground zero
a moving target is harder to hit

"Ground Zero" by Michael Dransfield 

Today's painting on my deck gallery is yet another canvas celebrating something that no longer exists & probably remembered by very few.

AGL38 'AGL Site, Mortlake' 2004
oil on canvas 75 x 100 cm
Available for sale

In 1884, the Australian Gas Light Company purchased 32 hectares of land at Mortlake and began gas production there on the 23rd May 1886.
The A.G.L. Gasworks at Mortlake boasted grandiose structures modelled on the Beckton Works in East London. It was probably no coincidence that the engineer in charge of works, Thomas Bush, had previously been employed at Beckton.

 

 

AGL38 'AGL Site, Mortlake' 2004

oil on canvas 75 x 100 cm

Available for sale

The company had operated other gasworks in Sydney, but their entire gas-making operation was transferred to Mortlake in 1922 as the river provided a cheap and efficient means of obtaining coal, which was its raw material.

There was an enormous workforce. When AGL's Mortlake plant was in full operation it used nearly 460,000 tonnes of coal per year which was brought from Hexham on the Hunter River, by colliers known as the 'Sixty Milers'.

The rotting hulk of one of the colliers decorates the upper reaches of the Parramatta River, and its remains can still be seen if the tide is high enough to allow passage for the Rivercats.

The initials “C.W.G.” stand for Carburetted Water Gas which sounds a little as though it has something to do with Coca-cola. The C.W.G. Building once contained 6 retort houses which had continually burnt coal from Newcastle to light Sydney’s streets. 

Exhibition of AGL site Mortlake paintings
in Breakfast Point Community Centre 2004 

 

 

The process of carbonization to obtain gas from coal was discontinued on 31st December 1971. Thereafter, natural gas from the interior of Australia was piped to Mortlake where it was given an odour for safety reasons and distributed to consumers throughout Sydney. Ironically, Mortlake itself was one of the last suburbs to be converted to natural gas. The gasworks finally closed on Friday 15th June 1990 & the sprawling 58 hectare site became a moonscape.

Exhibition of AGL site Mortlake paintings
in Breakfast Point Community Centre 2004

The site had already been half demolished by the time I found it and there were only a couple of other ruins dotted around the vast wasteland.
Extensive remediation had begun. As a century’s worth of stinking coal tar waste was removed from the site, networks of channels were carved through the glowing sandstone surrounding the C.W.G. Building. After rain, these channels would fill with water, becoming a network of canals and lakes reflecting the ruins.
A terrifying 40 metre chasm had been excavated in front of it to remove the coal tar residue. Against it the C.W.G. Building loomed overhead, neatly sliced in half and propped up with a mad cat’s cradle of eye-popping red bollards opening wide in front of me as though to welcome me with an embrace. I had to write myself a 'post it note' to attach to my easel to remind me not to walk backwards to admire my painting as there was only a couple of metres between my easel and a sudden drop!

Exhibition of AGL site Mortlake paintings
in Breakfast Point Community Centre 2004
The former AGL Gasworks site has now been completely redeveloped into the controversial new gated suburb of Breakfast Point by Rosecorp. The complex of white and pale beige apartments and townhouses is totally unrecognizable from its industrial past.

 
Exhibition of AGL site Mortlake paintings
in Breakfast Point Community Centre 2004
To coincide with the opening of their new suburb, Rosecorp and the CFMEU jointly invited me to hold a solo exhibition in their freshly built Community Hall.
My paintings consisted almost entirely of renditions of the C.W.G. Building, which had recently been demolished.
Irony totally intentional.

Related Posts 

My AGL Gasworks page

Painting from the silos of Mungo Scott Flour Mills, Summer Hill

Today's painting on the easel of my 'deck gallery' is a view of and from the silos of Summer Hill’s famous Mungo Scott flour mill. This vast behemoth was an icon of Sydney’s inner west skyline for nearly 100 years.
It also evokes memories of a gallery where I used to exhibit between 2003 - 10.
From the early 1990s I used to exhibit in the Delmar Gallery in Summer Hill. When the Director, Max Taylor, left to establish his own gallery, the Taylor Galleries, I exhibited there from 2003 until its closure in 2010. The Mungo Scott flour mill was just a few doors down from the Taylor Galleries in Smith Street, Summer Hill. I was utterly fascinated with it and often painted views of it from the surrounding streets before or after delivering or collecting paintings.

SU12 Mungo Scott Flour Mills Night from the top of the silo
2007 oil on canvas 30 x 30cm 

 Available for sale
One day in 2004 I finally plucked up the courage to ask to be allowed to paint there. They couldn't have been kinder!
I was given the 'grand tour' of the Escher like maze of criss-crossing, zig-zagging walkways from the main building to the top of the silos. When I returned to paint there, everyone helped carry my easel and wet canvases.
Just as well, as while I was certainly strong enough, I would have been hopelessly lost getting from one building to another. It was so confusing navigating the various levels, and it was complicated by the fact that it was still an operational flour mill.
My guide wore a 'Gumby' style hairnet, goggles and gloves. He joked that people knew whether or not they were gluten intolerant within the hour.
Apparently I am - I was sneezing, wheezing & itching, and had to wear a mask whenever I painted there as I had trouble breathing. I've never really liked bread, and now I know why!

SU8 Summer Hill Mungo Scott Flour Mills Panorama
2004 ink acrylic pastel on paper 118 x 118cm 

 Available for sale
The silos were truly scary, especially at night. They were very high up, sloped & some didn't even have guardrails. When I was drawing and painting my huge panoramas of the unforgettable view of the inner west from the top of the silos, I was frankly terrified as I had unfortunately picked the highest silo, and for extra points it didn't have a guardrail.

SU7 Summer Hill Mungo Scott Flour Mills Panorama
2004 oil painting on canvas 91 x 122cm 

Enquiries about other Summer Hill paintings 
The spectacular view made up for the danger. The Summer Hill freight line carving its way through the inner west was directly beneath me.
Soon it would be literally re-cycled. Some of it would be reserved for light rail, and some would be a cycling track.
I was lucky to get to the Mungo Scott Flour Mills in time. Summer Hill was fast being engulfed by the tide of gentrification transforming former gritty industrial zones into hip neighbourhoods, driving up rents and pushing artists even further away from the inner city.

Related Posts

My page of Urban Landscape paintings

The Empty mask

Shadowboard

A shadow board is one of the most common options for tool storage found in amateur and professional workshops and sheds the world over. Its noble aim is to organize the workplace so that tools are near the work station where they are to be used.

Work in progress on the easel
E135A 'Shadowboard - No Brake' 2017
oil on metal panel 51 x 51cm
Available

Shadow boards have the outlines of a work station's tools marked on them, so operators can quickly identify which tools are in use or missing.

As well as providing easy access to tools,they are supposed to reduce time spent searching for the correct tool; to reduce losses due to carelessness, lack of proper maintenance or theft; to improve work station safety as tools are replaced safely after use, rather than becoming potential hazards; to reduce clutter; and to maximize the space available.

Work in progress on the easel
E135A 'Shadowboard - No Brake' 2017
oil on metal panel 51 x 51cm
Available

Well that was the Platonic ideal anyway.

The dream of imposing order on chaos is often cruelly exposed as exactly that - a dream, when reality kicks in.

How should a shadowboard be organized?

Sounds so easy and straightforward, but it reveals fundamental and often irreconcilable differences in temperament, age and level of expertise, and can be the source of perpetual bickering, even long-running feuds.

Work in progress on the easel
E135A 'Shadowboard - No Brake' 2017
oil on metal panel 51 x 51cm
Available

Should it be organized by type of tool (all spanners, screwdrivers etc grouped together), by size (aesthetically pleasing to have a hierarchy of tools descending by size, but not necessarily the most practical), by frequency of use (commonly used tools in the middle where they are easily removed or replaced) by ease of removal /replacement (large, awkwardly sized or heavy tools placed where people don't have to reach up or down for them) or by what is required for common tasks (a particular size of wrench/saw/hammer/screwdriver etc are often needed together for a task that crops up frequently).

Sometimes it can even be a passive-aggressive wish list, like a recent commercial for a hardware line of products where empty outlines were left for needed or desired tools, either in hope of a future financial windfall or thoughtful gift.

E135B'Shadowboard with 44 class diesel
-(Do not pull all way out) '
2017 oil on metal panel 51 x 51cm
Available

The usual result is a hotch potch of all the above.

Jumble of the useful, the once useful and now obsolete, the broken bits, the spare parts that 'may come in handy'; the lost, strayed and some frankly useless items that seem to breed unchecked in dark corners. When, if ever, were any of these used? Last week? Last century?

Work in progress on the easel
E135B'Shadowboard with 44 class diesel
-(Do not pull all way out) '
2017 oil on metal panel 51 x 51cm
Available

I used metal panels to paint on instead of my usual canvas, leaving the metal bare when the tool was shiny and well maintained, and only painting the non-metallic or rusty parts. The work above also includes a 44 class diesel lurking in the background.

The faded, naive lettering found on cryptic signs create abstract yet evocative grids of letters and word fragments, colour and text fading into meditative, elegiac compositions.

Other mysteries abound. As this is a workshop filled with tools and presumably people who know how to use them, why did someone bother to write "Do not pull all way out" on the drawers of the cabinet beneath, instead of fixing the drawer?

I'm no handyperson, but even I can fix drawers - it's fiddly but not that hard.

E135A 'Shadowboard - No Brake' 2017
oil on metal panel 51 x 51cm
Available

A massive Marie Kondo attack has been carried out in the Large Erecting Shop to tackle decades of clutter. Nothing to do with sparking joy.

Everything deemed not strictly necessary to the re-purposing of the Large Erecting Shop as a running shed is being given the old heave-ho - best case scenario sent to Thirlmere, worst case - the skip.

I was chased from one end of the shed to the other, as wherever I set up my easel, I seemed to get in the way. I was hunting for a quiet corner as the situation brought out crankiness in normally laid back people. I was incessantly asked "why I was painting this rubbish instead of the trains", but most of the trains will still exist somewhere, while this sort of subject, evoking the true spirit of the workshop, is ephemeral.

But fashions change as to what is deemed 'necessary' and unique and quirky items can be lost or destroyed in the rush to impose order on chaos..

In the Large Erecting Shop the shadowboards are no longer functional as no repair or maintenance will be carried out there.

Ghost boards with ghost signs for ghost trains.

They show the never to be filled outlines of lost tools for lost purposes.

Headstones of the workshop.

More paintings of the Eveleigh Railway Workshops

Related Posts

Ghost Train

Ghost in the machine

Scar Tissue

Painting in the paint shop - The Green Room

The slow return from the fire

The fire within

The Milky bar kid - old milkbar 74 Harris Street

Today's painting on the easel of my deck gallery is a 2009 plein air oil painting of a derelict abandoned old shop in Pyrmont, fondly, but wrongly known as the "old bakery".

P257A 'Old milkbar aka 'bakery'
corner of John and Harris St'
2009 oil on canvas 51 x 61cm
Available

As far as I can remember the actual bakery was a few doors down and the corner shop was a milkbar, but we're talking at least 3 decades ago.

My standout memory of it when it was in its last days of operation was how rubbish I was at playing their "Fussball" machine, which was lines of wooden footballers attached to a stick that you tried to manoeuver by a lever to kick the ball.
Not a single goal!

The legendary Terminus Hotel on the opposite side of Harris Street, and like its more famous counterpart, was part of the Wakil's real life Monopoly game. They had a landbanking empire of quirky, derelict buildings which were loathed by local residents as eyesores but cherished by artists like myself.

Aren't Artists a perverse bunch - we ignore all the shiny new developments and make straight for the 'shame of the neighbourhood' to immortalize it!

P257A 'Old milkbar aka 'bakery'
corner of John and Harris St'
2009 oil on canvas 51 x 61cm
Available

The continuous row of 19th century 2 storey terrace houses between Nos 74 and 80 Harris Street are still part of the Wakil collection of formerly derelict buildings, which once included the iconic Terminus Hotel opposite.

The row of  terraces have rendered brick shopfronts and skillion roofed wings at the rear. They are plainly detailed, with only a string course to the facades as decoration, and a Victorian/Georgian flavour in their design. Door openings are rectangular, and window openings are also rectangular as well as slightly segmentally arched. They are without parapet or verandahs and feature corrugated iron gable roofs with low corniced or corbelled chimneys.

P256A 'Old Milkbar (aka 'Bakery'),
corner of Harris and John St'
2009 acrylic on paper 21 x 28cm
Available

No 74 is similar to the rest, but was a corner shop and is faceted with a corner entrance. It  was a milkbar for a long time, although often and wrongly referred to as the 'old bakery'.
Number 82 was the actual site of the "old bakery", although now the entire block seems to have adopted this name.

P257 'Old bakery corner of John and Harris St'
2012 oil on board  35 x 28cm
Available

For many years the corner and north facing doorways were boarded up and featured an endless layering of illegal posters promoting long forgotten bands.

 

P256B 'Old Milkbar and 'Chicks on Harris''
2009 acrylic on paper 21 x 28cm
Available

Until about 2014, No 82 still partly kept up the milk bar tradition,traded as a "charcoal chicken" outlet called "Chicks on Harris".

Bearing in mind the seedy reputations of previous establishments at the north end of Harris St, I'm not sure that the owners had really thought through the implications of their name!

Milk bars are now imbued with mythical qualities they never possessed in life. In decline and death, they’re trendy and retro.


P256 'Black Dog (old milkbar -
aka 'bakery' from John St)'
2009 oil on board 31 x 25cm
Available

No 74 has now been recently and very sympathetically redeveloped by the current occupants - appropriately, 'Belle Property' real estate agents. And now it really is a 'belle' property indeed.

It's been painted a tasteful off-white shade, and the former layers of peeling posters have been replaced by large picture windows.

I couldn't resist having a sneaky peek inside.

The interior still has the original wall material visible, and the beautiful old hardwood stairs have been polished, but otherwise in their original state. The architraves are dark walnut stained hardwood, but the rotting floors had collapsed long ago and had to be replaced with polished concrete.

The huge tree outside is a relic from when both sides of John Street were edged with a row of trees whose branches would meet in the middle of the street to form a cathedral-like canopy. Lush and cool in summer, but most beautiful in winter when the feeble rays of the sun would pierce through the tracery of bare branches.

A lovely tree, but its roots went straight for the plumbing, and the pavement outside is cracked and humped by the twisting roots underneath. I know that a few years ago, several people had considered this old shop on as a renovation project, but weren't quite crazy-brave enough to take it on.

For more information about Harris and John Street in Pyrmont, including the Terminus and Pyrmont Point Hotels

see My Pyrmont page in this blog

Related posts

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Terminus Redux

Looking over the overlooked-Urban decay in Pyrmont
To the Point
Wrong side of the tracks - Darling Island Bond and Free

Pretty vacant

A Tale of two hotels - the Terminus and the Point

The bad twin of Pyrmont Street

Pyrmont Paintings past and present