Painting Mungo Scott Flour Mills, Summer Hill Part 2

Today's painting on the easel of my deck gallery is from 2009 and is of the last flour truck to depart the Mungo Scott Flour Mills in Summer Hill.

SU9 Summer Hill, Mungo Scott Flour Mills Last Flour truck .
2009 oil on canvas 28 x 36cm
Available for sale
This vast behemoth was the last operational flour mill in Sydney.
Mungo Scott Ltd acquired the land for £3000 in 1916 and built the flour mill with an estimated £10,000 budget in 1921-22.

SU3 Summer Hill Mungo Scott Flour Mills Late Afternoon
2009 oil on canvas 30 x 30cm
Available for sale
It exploited the newly built Metropolitan goods line between Wardell Road and Darling Harbour.
The Summer Hill freight line, alongside Hawthorne Canal, was used twice a week to service the Mills. This branch line was the last operational section of the once mighty Metropolitan goods line before it was redeveloped as light rail/cycling track.

SU2 Summer Hill Mungo Scott Flour Mills Evening
2009 oil on canvas 30 x 30cm
Available for sale
A huge fire in the mill in 1927 was believed to have been caused by sparks caused by passing trains igniting stored flour.
The landmark silos appeared in the early 1950s, as Goodman Fielder grew the Mill’s capacity. Allied Mills took control of the buildings in the 1950s and they were used as a key processing facility for wheat grown in New South Wales until 2009.
The last train ran to the Mungo Scott flour mill on 1 December 2008.

SU1 Summer Hill Mungo Scott Flour Mills by Night
2009 oil on canvas 30 x 30cm
Available for sale
As the Mungo Scott Flour Mills were conveniently close to the Taylor galleries in Smith street where I held regular exhibitions, I was well placed to be able to paint canvases of some of its last operations, including some of the last flour trucks to leave the Mills. 

Allied Mills finally vacated the site forever in about 2010 and moved their operations to a huge site in Picton, in Sydney's south-west, which I drive past whenever I exhibit my paintings at the Thirlmere Festival of Steam.

SU6 Summer Hill Mungo Scott Flour Mills Last Flour truck
2009 oil on canvas 41 x 61cm
PRIVATE COLLECTION : SYDNEY
Enquiries about other Summer Hill paintings

The precinct is now redeveloped and is home to offices and more than 400 apartments.

Related Posts

Painting from the silos of the Mungo Scott Flour Mills

The empty mask - Edwin Davey Flour Mills

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

Painting Sydney Harbour in the footsteps of Turner

All this winter I've felt something's been lacking.

Vivid.

Due to Covid-19 it couldn't be held this year, and for all I know New Year's Eve and Australia Day celebrations may not be held in the foreseeable future either.

I've often mocked Sydney for valuing style over substance, but I have to confess that I like a mindlessly pretty display of fairy lights against a harbour view as much as anyone.

So for anyone getting withdrawal symptoms, here's one on the easel of my deck gallery.

U118 Fireship under the Bridge
oil on canvas 2003 61 x 91cm
Available for sale
This canvas of the burning ship against a backdrop of fireworks illuminating the Sydney Harbour Bridge was painted in the studio from a series of quick gouache studies that I did on New Year's Eve 2003, well over a decade before Vivid was ever thought of. I regard this as a sort of 'proto-Vivid'.
It added a new dimension to the usual fireworks and was a startling sight if you weren't aware that it was in fact a special effect, and not a tragic fire on board the 'James Craig'.
The first time I saw it, like hundreds, possibly thousands of others, I rang 000 in a panic to report it. You could almost hear the person from Emergency Services rolling their eyes, as they assured me that it was just a special effect, that , no, the James Craig was just fine, and thanked me for my misplaced concern.
The Fireship apparently commemorated an early 19th century convict ship that had caught fire, and in the weeks after, during the Sydney Festival, there was a 'son et lumiere' show every night for a couple of weeks. I forget the details and the story, and frankly I think everyone else did as well. The images of the fire reflected in the water were all the spectators really were interested in, and the story seemed just a flimsy excuse.
As I painted some quick sketches in gouache and watercolour, I was glad that i'd spent so much of my 1996 Marten Bequest Traveling Art Scholarship holed up in the Print and Drawing Room of the Clore Gallery (the section of the Tate Gallery devoted to the work of Turner, obsessively painting studies of the many fabulous Turner watercolours in their collection. The Petworth series and the burning of the Houses of Parliament were my favourites. I became so good at painting them that the staff became slightly alarmed, and demanded that I sign my studies on the back so that I wouldn't be able to do a bit of a 'switcheroo' while their backs were turned! I took this as a sort of a backhanded compliment, but my goal wasn't to just mindlessly copy, but to try to conquer the mystery of painting sea,sky, storm, night and fire. How to make the intangible, tangible.
When I returned from my Traveling Art Scholarship, I actually exhibited some of these in a couple of exhibitions "The Grand Tour" and "In the Footsteps of the Masters" that acted like a sort of debriefing - a transition phase from the scholarship to the routine of regular commercial exhibitions.
I'd seen a lot of amazing art, and learnt a lot, but how was I going to incorporate this into what I would paint on my return?

U118 Fireship under the Bridge
oil on canvas 2003 61 x 91cm
Available for sale
Painting the Fireship was a chance to give a virtuoso display of layers of translucent glazes of breathtakingly expensive and exotic colours such as Aureolin, Rose Madder and Alizarin Crimson. These aren't the sort of colours that usually get a work out during plein air painting.
However, as I started to paint lost trades and dying industries, I would get more and more frequent opportunities to use them. Subjects like the Oxycutter at William Wallbank and Sons, or the Blacksmiths at the Eveleigh Railway Workshops provided further connections to the lost world of the Early Industrial Revolution that Turner and his predecessors de Loutherbourg and Joseph Wright of Derby immortalized. The major difference is that these artists were painting the founding of this era - I'm painting its demise.

Related Posts


Vivid

Meltdown, Oxycutting at William Wallbank and Sons

Irons in the fire

Painting the industrial past on Cockatoo Island - Before and After

Cockatoo Island, the largest island in Sydney Harbour, is located at the intersection of the Parramatta and Lane Cove rivers. It is the last vestige of the era of the Industrial Revolution remaining in Sydney.

CK8B & CK52 Crane & slipway from the Officers headquarters
1989 & 2007 oil on canvas 61 x 46cm

Enquiries

Between 1839 -1869 Cockatoo Island was a prison colony.

The inmates not only excavated the 2 tunnels and 2 graving docks that nearly bisect the island, but to add insult to injury they even had to build their own gaol using the excavated sandstone of the island! The only successful escapee was bushranger Captain Thunderbolt (his more prosaic real name was Fred Ward), who escaped on 19th September 1863.

After its stint as Sydney's 'Alcatraz' the island was used as a graving dock,  reformatory and industrial schools, and a major shipbuilding site.
In the early twentieth century Cockatoo Island became one of Australia’s most important industrial sites where ships were built, repaired and modified. Thousands were trained and employed there. I still meet people who did their apprenticeship as a boilermaker or fitter and turner on Cockatoo Island.

As the progressive removal of tariffs, regressive government policies, the high dollar and the pressures of globalization helped kill off Australian manufacturing, the focus of employment has turned increasingly to tourism, entertainment and service industries.

Most of Sydney’s former sites of industrial and maritime activity have now been gobbled up by developers for monolithic dormitories of beige apartment blocks. After many political battles, some remaining industrial structures of Cockatoo Island have been retained, against all odds. Although some large workshops, slipways, wharves, residences and other buildings remain, such as the Turbine Shop and the Mould Loft, many major buildings were demolished after Cockatoo Island closed as a dockyard in 1991.

Now it's a UNESCO world heritage site and its industrial ambience has been exploited for many cultural events. It was the site for the filming of X Men Origins -Wolverine and several 'reality' programs. Since 2008 it has been the flagship venue of Sydney’s Biennale. However, its original function as part of Sydney’s rapidly disappearing Working Harbour, has gone forever.
When I was 'Artist in Residence' there in the mid-late 1980s and then again in the early 2000s, I was the only artist on the island.

For the last decade, the public has been allowed to visit the island, but when I painted the 2nd canvas in 2007, it was still off limits. The Sydney Harbour Federation Trust was frantically fixing up the infrastructure to be able to open it to tourists. I would travel by barge at the crack of dawn from Mort's Dock with the other workmen.

CK8B 2 Cranes on the North-West Slipway
1989 oil on canvas 61 x 46cm
Enquiries

I started painting on Cockatoo Island in the mid 1980s when it was still operational and submarines were still being refitted there.

I'd have to sign the Official Secrets Act and promise faithfully not to paint any submarines or sell any of my paintings to the Russians. I'd leave my easel, paints and table in the office of the Ship Painters and Dockers building between Fitzroy and Sutherland docks.

There was a sign "Pro Painter Foreman" on the door, which always made me laugh. I was so naive that I didn't know anything about the reputation of this notorious union!

These two canvases were painted at the same location,the north - western slipway, at the same time of day, at the same time of year and on the same format canvas - but 18 years apart.

CK52 Crane & slipway from the Officers headquarters
2007 oil on canvas 61 x 46cm
Enquiries

The most obvious difference between the 1989 and 2007 paintings is the omission of the pale green crane, a casualty of a storm not long after the 1989 canvas was painted.

This was the Butters crane, purchased from the Whyalla Shipyards in 1979, when Cockatoo Island was trying to adopt more innovative strategies,for the construction of HMAS Success in 1983-4. The rather forlorn looking crane left on its own in the 2007 painting, was the ex- West Wall crane, also a comparatively recent addition to the island, as it was relocated from Garden Island in the 1970s.

This partial modernization was a false dawn, however, as HMAS Success would be last ever ship built and launched at Cockatoo Island. Less than 8 years later, the island was closed.     

Related Posts

My page of Cockatoo Island Paintings

No 'glamping' on Cockatoo Island

Article written by Steve Meacham in the Sydney Morning Herald

Painting the Svitzer tug Wonga in Sydney Harbour

The 'Wonga' was built in 1983 and was one of the Svitzer 'pusher' tugs.

Their names started with 'W' - Wilga, Wonga, Woona, Walan, Watagan. I've no idea why they picked that particular letter to christen their tugs. As a 'wonga' is a type of pigeon, not a marine bird, I'm not sure why this name was chosen for a marine vessel.

To me, the trio of names 'Wilga', 'Wonga', 'Woona', had a sort of alliterative poetry, and whenever I painted one of the three, I would be asked if I also had paintings of the other two, to make up the set.

DH236 'The tug 'Wonga' with 'Victorian Reliance''
2007 oil on board 20 x 25cm
SOLD
Enquiries about other paintings of tugs

This shows the 'Wonga' in action with a cargo ship.

They were once a very common sight in Sydney Harbour, when Sydney Harbour was still a fully working port. As 'Artist in Residence' on the East Darling Harbour Wharves during the first decade of this century, I would see at least one of these tugs everyday. If they weren't accompanying one of the container ships or Ro-ros (roll-on roll-off car vessels) to the East Darling Harbour Wharves, Glebe Island or White Bay, they would be escorting a cruise ship to the Cruise ship terminal at Darling Harbour Wharf 8, or an oil tanker to Gore bay.

DH241 'The 'Wonga' 2011
oil on board 28 x 35cm
Available

This painting shows the 'Wonga' passing Goat Island. It was on its way to a new task, from its then home in East Balmain next to the ferries.

The number of tugs in Sydney Harbour declined with the closure of East Darling Harbour Wharves and its replacement with the controversial Barangaroo development project.

DH194 The 'Wonga' 2008
oil on canvas 20 x 25cm
SOLD
Enquiries about other paintings of tugs

This earlier painting shows the 'Wonga' passing Balmain.

Now, the 'Wonga' is one of the 2 tugs (the other being the 'Walan') based at Port Pirie which is located 223 kilometres north of Adelaide at the top of Upper Spencer Gulf,

Port Pirie, a small town of 16,000, is still home to the type of heavy industry now removed from Sydney Harbour. The Nyrstar concentrate smelter in Port Pirie is one of the largest smelters in the world.

Related Posts

Painting the tugboats of Sydney Harbour

Marine Art exhibition at Australian Maritime Museum

In the pink -the former Pyrmont Arms Hotel, Harris Street Pyrmont

The former pub 'The Pyrmont Arms' was at 42-44 Harris Street, Pyrmont on the corner of Harris and Bowman Streets.
Built in the 1870s,it closed in the early 1990s when the CSR refinery and distillery were progressively shut down and demolished to make way for the Jackson's landing development. Since then, it has been renovated as retail outlets, restaurants and home units.

P248 The 'Pyrmont Arms' from the CSR 1

1990 oil on canvas 31 x 31cm

Available

I first painted the Pyrmont Arms Hotel as a bird's eye view from the roof of the CSR refinery.I had been the 'Artist in Residence' at the CSR Refinery from the late 1980s to the start of its demolition in the mid 1990s. I had previously been painting at the top of the Panhouse, but one day in a fit of bravery I decided to paint from the top of the Boilerhouse next to the chimneys.
The CSR boilerhouse is now the site of the 'Elizabeth' apartment block of the Jackson's Landing LendLease development.
The Pyrmont Arms Hotel was then still an operating pub and was painted a grubby faded pale pinkish beige. On the back of the pub's western side facing the Scott Street squats, there was a huge ad for 'Have a cold gold KB', unfortunately not visible from my rooftop studio. Across the road was the brick facade of the CSR chem labs.
It didn't stand out from the rest of the rather dingy terraces at the 'Land's End' of Harris street, but what caught my eye was the contrast between the terraces and the overgrown area around the squats that was rapidly turning into a wilderness. I painted a small square canvas focussing on just the Pyrmont Arms, and resolved one day to paint a panorama of the northern end of Harris Street from this vantage point.

P249 'Pyrmont panorama- from the CSR '

1991 oil on canvas 46 x 92cm

Available

A few months later, I climbed the many levels of revolting, sugar syrup encrusted stairs to the top of the CSR boilerhouse again, to paint this panorama, and was startled to find that the formerly almost unnoticeable pub had succumbed to a brash attempt at 'renovation'.
Weirdly, it shared the same revolting shade of pink with another dying pub at the other end of Pyrmont, the 'New York Hotel' in Edward Street, opposite the Pyrmont Power Station.
This fluoro paint job was such a product of its time that it defined the late 1980s to 1990s, a period without style or taste. I remember leggings and jumpers in that same fabulously horrid "glow in the dark" colour, possibly an over-reaction against the ochres and browns of the 1970s. In architecture, it was known not very fondly as "Paddington Pink" or "Paddo pink" for short, although the examples in Paddington itself were much more muted.

P248B 'The 'Pyrmont Arms' from the CSR 2'

1991 oil on canvas 31 x 31cm

Available

It made the Pyrmont Arms stick out like a sore thumb from the dingy red brick warehouses and bond stores, and not in a good way.
I don't know if it was still an operating pub then or whether the new paint job was a desperate last ditch attempt to attract customers or preparation for its sale and possible redevelopment.
For the truth was that the pubs of Pyrmont were hanging by a thread. Their customers were gone with the destruction or relocation of the local industries that had employed them, and the industries of Pyrmont's future were yet to replace them.
The CSR Refinery and Distillery, which had replaced the sandstone quarrymen of northern Pyrmont a century before, was almost deserted and would be demolished and replaced with Jackson's Landing by the middle of the decade. But there was a strange interregnum before the new apartments were built and filled with inhabitants, and the northern end of Harris Street was a ghost town.
The iconic Terminus Hotel, only 2 blocks further up Harris Street, had already ceased trading a decade before, and stood abandoned, neglected and a constant source of speculation for the next 30 years, before its very recent renovation. How the 'Royal Pacific', later to be rechristened the 'Pyrmont Point'/ 'Point Hotel', ever kept on trading is a much bigger mystery that any of the urban myths swirling around the 30 year vacancy of the Terminus.
What is it with the lurid colour schemes inflicted on moribund pubs?
Far from Pyrmont, another doomed hotel, the 'Jolly Frog' also got the pink treatment not long before it suffered one of those mysterious fires that afflict abandoned buildings.
They must have used the same colourblind painter and decorator. And he must have got the paint at a huge discount, or it might have 'fallen off the back of a truck'.
Either way, it didn't work. All closed as pubs not long after.

P248C '42 Harris st -ex Pyrmont Arms'

2012 oil on canvas 31 x 31cm

Available

The 'New York Hotel' has been painted a tasteful off-white, and is now a medical centre, of all things!
'The Pyrmont Arms' has now been painted a dull blue on the ground floor and a muted yellow for the upper floors. It is no longer a hotel, but has been reasonably sympathetically renovated and is now a combination of apartments above and a bottle-o below.

And the Jolly Frog, 6 years after its devastating fire, is still awaiting redevelopment.

Related Posts

Paintings of Pink Pubs

The Boiling Frog

My page of Pyrmont Paintings

A Tale of 2 Pyrmont Hotels - The Terminus and the Point

To the Point

Pretty Vacant

Terminus Redux

A last look around the Harbour Control Tower

Today's painting on the deck gallery is a view of the much maligned and now demolished Harbour Control Tower.

BAR54 'Tower of Power' 2010
oil on canvas 61 x 61cm

Enquiries

It had many sarcastic nicknames : the "Pill" (controlling the berths in the Harbour, the "concrete mushroom", and even "the hypodermic in God's bum"!

But I think that the viewer of my canvas can find the same stern monumental dignity  that attracted me to it as a subject.

BAR54 'Tower of Power' 2010
oil on canvas 61 x 61cm

Enquiries
The Sydney Harbour Control Tower, which lingered for a while at the northern end of Barangaroo, was demolished over a period of eight months starting in March 2016.
Consisting of an 87m high concrete column topped by an observation room with utterly breath-taking views, it gave the Harbour Master and Port Operations officers an ideal position from which to oversee shipping movements around Sydney Harbour.
The tower was designed in 1972 after two ships collided in the shipping channel off the knuckle of the wharf at Millers Point.
It stood sentinel over Sydney Harbour from 1974-2011 giving continual supervision of shipping movements.
Sydney Ports relocated its harbour control operations to Port Botany in April 2011, leaving the tower to gather dust for 5 years.

DH159 The empty wharf
2007 oil on canvas 61 x 91cm

Enquiries
I am naturally biased - I had the run of the Harbour Control Tower as a studio for nearly a decade.
As well as painting spectacular views of Sydney from the top floor and the amenities level, I used it as a sort of exclamation point in many landscapes of the wharf and Millers point. This canvas of the empty wharf has the strange melancholy of a de Chirico and the light poles marching steadily toward the Tower echo rows of classical columns.
As a pictorial device, the Tower would give an otherwise mundane streetscape an extra frisson. The feeling of someone potentially observing the scene from above from those green angled windows gave an almost sinister dimension.

MP5 Harbour Tower & Dalgety Terrace 2

2014 acrylic on canvas 18 x 13cm

Enquiries

The decision to remove the tower was controversial.
The developers of Barangaroo had considered it an eyesore as the surrounding development transformed the former port into a millionaire’s playground.
Former Prime Minister Paul Keating, self-appointed Baron Haussman of Sydney, and never one to shy away from an argument, stated with his customary belligerence that the tower did not have a "shred of heritage about it" and that calls to keep it were "rancid reactionism".
But he would, wouldn't he.

With his nearly pathological hatred of industrial heritage, that sits oddly with his working class background, he was grimly determined to get rid of it and pitched relentlessly into anyone with a good word to say about the former wharf.

This article written in November 2014 in the Sydney Morning Herald has a photo of me 'en plein air', painting the Harbour Tower Paul Keating so despised.

The Office of Environment and Heritage had previously described the tower as being of state significance “for its pre-eminent role in the history and maritime operation of the Port of Sydney.The Tower demonstrates 35 years of 24/7 operation in the Port of Sydney from 1974-2009 as the Port Operations and Communications Centre providing supervisory control over the many thousands of shipping movements in Sydney Harbour every year,” the Office said in its previous listing of the tower as a heritage site.
After the Heritage Minister decided not to list the tower on the State Heritage Register, the NSW Government approved a development application from the Barangaroo Delivery Authority to remove the former Harbour Control Tower . In their words : 'in order to achieve a naturalistic form and character for the reserve that is consistent with the site’s concept plan'.
I can't think of anything less naturalistic than Barangaroo. For some reason it brings to mind a poem called aptly "Poetry" by Marianne Moore about an imaginary garden that had real toads in it.
But as in the poem, the developers and their cheerleaders have little time for anything that doesn't fit their very narrow definition of what is "useful". Certainly nothing as useless as heritage.

'same thing may be said for all of us—that we
do not admire what
we cannot understand.'

Excerpt from
"Poetry" by Marianne Moore

The National Trust  rejected a proposal by the Barangaroo Delivery Authority to demolish the tower while the City of Sydney council wanted it retained as an artwork or public lookout.

Some people suggested alternate uses for the empty tower: bungee jumping, abseiling, a viewing tower over Sydney Harbour, or a “pop-out” café.
However the Barangaroo Reserve project director Peter Funder said “We looked at a number of re-use options and it just wasn’t viable. It completes the vision we’re trying to deliver here of recreating the headland of Barangaroo.”
As for arguments about usefulness, you could also question what practical use does the Barangaroo Headland Park serve. It has allegedly been returned to the 1836 footprint, yet it is far from natural bushland, and the public certainly isn't permitted to hunt or fish there. So it is a construct - just as artificial as the concrete wharf it replaced.

This canvas painted in 2015 from the Stamford on Kent shows rows of lollipop like palm trees perched tier upon tier, as though on a giant wedding cake. The stairway to the top cuts through the cake like a knife cutting a slice out of the cake. Symmetrical and hierarchical, and as unlike real bushland as the horses on a carousel are from the living animals.

MP45 Barangaroo Headland Park from the
Stamford on Kent 2015 oil on canvas 122 x 153cm
COLLECTION: MITCHELL LIBRARY, STATE LIBRARY OF NSW
Enquiries

Its main function seems to be as a distraction from the scale of the southern end.
A spoonful of sugar to make the development go down.
A sort of 'Trojan park' under which is smuggled the true purpose of Barangaroo; to separate punters from their money.
It's a pity that almost all evidence of Sydney as an industrial port has been wiped away. I certainly found poetry in it.
I can't get used to the lack of Tower in the streetscapes of Millers Point - they look strangely empty now.

Related Posts

Article in the Sydney Morning Herald about my Barangaroo painting on display in the new galleries of the Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW

Barangaroo paintings in Frances Keevil Gallery

Paintings from the top of the Harbour Control Tower in Frances Keevil Gallery

No Place like home - Plein air painting in Millers Point

Today's painting on the easel of my deck gallery feels appropriate for these uncertain times when many people have been confined to their home in unexpected lockdown and have been rethinking many things they previously took for granted. Such as the relationship between the individual,the community and the government.

Plein air painting on site with protest banner
MP22 '67 Lower Fort st - This is my home'
2014 oil on canvas 46 x 61cm
Enquiries

What makes a house a home?

Is it just a place, or is there something a bit more intangible and numinous?

Why is where you live so important?

Plein air painting on site with protest banner
MP22 '67 Lower Fort st - This is my home'
2014 oil on canvas 46 x 61cm
Enquiries

I had been painting the East Darling Harbour Wharves for at least a decade before the development of Barangaroo so radically transformed the nature of the western side of the Sydney CBD. Long before the consequences of the end of Sydney's Working Harbour were understood by the general public, I could see the knock-on effect and how it would change the shape of people's lives.

I increasingly started to paint in the streets of the Rocks and Millers Point,knowing that the departure of the heavy industry and shipping would leave this area once again vulnerable to developers and the government. Only a couple of decades earlier, similar pressures had been faced, and the push back from an alliance of residents and unions culminated in the Green Bans led by the revered Jack Mundey AO. Some redevelopment ensued, but residents were relocated into purpose-built social housing in the Sirius Apartments, and Millers Point mostly held its ground.

But this time seemed different.

Millers Point, a historic harbourside enclave with 19th-century terraced houses is only a stone's throw from the Sydney Harbour Bridge, Walsh Bay Wharves and the former East Darling Harbour Wharves (now Barangaroo).

The grand terraces of Lower Fort Street perch on the escarpment overlooking the Walsh Bay Wharves. They spent the last century owned by the Harbour Trust in its various manifestations, and run as 'residentials' for waterside workers. The wharves, stores and workers' housing were completely integrated. The tight knit community was composed of people whose families had worked on the wharves, in some cases over 5 generations.

Plein air painting on site with protest banner
MP22 '67 Lower Fort st - This is my home'
2014 oil on canvas 46 x 61cm
Enquiries

In the 1980s the Millers Point residences passed from the control of the Maritime Services Board to that of the Department of Housing and there was a noticeable decline in service, repairs and maintenance of the properties.

In 2012 the NSW government decided that almost 300 public housing properties at Millers Point must be sold saying the revenue would contribute to the public housing budget although how exactly the money will be spent hasn’t yet been made transparent.

Plein air painting on site with protest banner
 MP22 '67 Lower Fort st - This is my home'
2014 oil on canvas 46 x 61cm
Enquiries

You could easily tell which houses were still inhabited. Banners were hung over balconies, spray painted onto sheets in stencil letters: 'Millers Point Not 4 Sale'; 'Say No to the Total Sell Off of Public Assets'.

The ubiquitous Reg Mombassa designed protest T shirt of a skull smoking a cigar and wearing a top hat, flapped from every washing line.

I painted a series of canvases recording the protests.

Plein air painting on site with protest banner
 MP22 '67 Lower Fort st - This is my home'
2014 oil on canvas 46 x 61cm
Enquiries

The most creative protest banner was a washing line "This is my Home" on the corner of lower Fort Street and Downshire Lane in the shadow of the Harbour Bridge. It summed up every emotion and argument in a single pithy line.

As I painted this, I became friends with its author, Sally.

The artist on site with the local wildlfe
while plein air painting on site

I adore lizards, especially blue tongues, and was very happy when Sally lent me her blue tongue lizard to cuddle. To protect it from the local cats, it had a refuge in the garbage bin left lying on its side. I'd wondered why the bins were apparently scattered randomly on the tree stumps, and then realized they were lizard havens filled with rocks, food and water for 6 out of 7 days, and only used briefly for their original purpose.

I returned to paint a much larger canvas, but soon after, some low life stole Sally's T shirts. She replaced them with a set of towels with another appropriate and thought-provoking motto,  "Age in place" stencilled on them.

Sally was a real character. Despite almost unbearable daily pressure from the authorities, she had the moxie to take the Government to court to try to remain in the home she had lived in for over 30 years.

Unfortunately after putting up a spirited fight, she eventually lost the case and was relocated against her will.

Related Posts

Millers Point Three years On

(Vanessa Berry's blog 'Mirror Sydney'- with a photo of me painting in High Street)

"Millers Point through the Looking Glass "Clearing House

CLEARING HOUSE is the Tenants' Union of NSW's record of what's going on in Social and Affordable Housing portfolio redevelopment and renewal in New South Wales. They asked my permission to use my painting on this site.

Millers Point from the top of the Harbour Control Tower

Tie a yellow ribbon

There goes the neighbourhood

Walsh Bay History - Paintings of a passing Port