Day 48

The Pavilion Building, or West Portal Cafeteria as it was formerly known, was a purpose-built cafeteria for public servants working in the ANZAC Park West (and I suppose also ANZAC Park East) office building, to take a break from national administration and dine on roast beef sandwiches, sausage rolls and scones - it is no wonder I have always admired the building. Built in 1969 it is a 535sqm single level rectangular structure comprised of brick walls on three sides of the northern end, which house the facilities and service areas including once a kitchen, and full length windows with a wide verandah to the three sides of the southern end, around the former dining area. It has a copper tile clad roof with concave cantilevers that extend three meters along all four sides, and a curved spire with a lantern positioned central over the dining area. The verandah and dining room ceilings are battened with Western Red Cedar and the northern wall in the dining room is clad with Queensland maple battens laid vertically, which conceal the doors into the facilities and service areas. Interestingly, it is one of eight hospitality services that existed to accommodate public servants in the ACT during the 1970s and which operated until 1988; today It is one of three surviving buildings constructed for these services (another being ‘The Lobby’ opposite Provisional Parliament House). For these unique architectural features and its specific operations tied to life in the developing days of Canberra, it has been heritage listed. Currently it is being used as a display suite for ‘The Griffin’ complex being constructed next door and is listed for sale by expression of interest, advertised as being “suitable for hospitality, office & more.” I doubt it’s future potential though as it certainly wouldn’t suit its original purpose anymore: it faces the completely wrong direction and has sweeping views of a major roadway, Parkes Way. In fact, I don’t understand why it was ever built facing south in the first place, as even in 1969 it would have had the same poor surroundings. Though a beautiful building nonetheless.

Day 31

The Molonglo Internment Camp cost the British Government £157,387/2/3 (approx. AUD$12,771,269.68 in 2021) though it is unknown if this includes furnishings, supplies and running costs. After the war numerous newspaper articles questioned the future use of the campsite, with titles to the likes of “wasted internment camp”, “another white elephant, elaborate and little used” and even “pig alien camp.” By April 1920 there was speculation that the camp could be used to accommodate workmen and their families for the construction of the Federal Capital. The acquisition of the campsite was confirmed later that year and according to the Government Gazette released on 3 August 1921 the Federal Government paid £32,500 (AUD$2,637,231.59) to the British Government to take over the campsite, which became known as the Molonglo Settlement. A few of the camp buildings were transported to the Brickworks and other sites around the Capital, along with a few being sold to the New South Wales Government for profit. Within a year various repairs had to be carried out to the buildings and Molonglo would later be described as ‘one of the eyesores of the Federal Capital’ and ‘not a settlement of which Canberra may be proud.’ Single men were accommodated in cubicles, separated by thin wooden partitions, in long narrow buildings. While the families lived in poor temporary cottages which, in some cases, did not even provide shelter from the rain. One solution, coined in late 1924, was to “provide for a permanent workmen's suburb” on a site that had been allocated, that would see “a large number of wooden cottages of a more permanent character in which proper homes can be established” (Sydney Morning Herald, 15/12/1924): The Causeway. The first family moved into one of the ‘workers cottages’ at the Causeway in 1925 with many of the families living in the settlement following suit. Gradually over the years the Molonglo Settlement was dismantled and by 1937 there were only seventeen families living there and by 1949 only three. All that remains of the old camp today is the foundations of the water tank in the parkland on the corner of Newcastle St. and Canberra Ave. Fyshwick.

Day 30

The Molonglo Internment Camp was constantly described as a “model township” which possessed “all conveniences for happy life” (Herald, 03.01.1919) and life in the camp certainly wasn’t horrendous. It is reported that the internees caused little trouble with the garrison and that they occupied their time by cultivating gardens, establishing a theatre, building a library, and were even allowed to take walks through the bush and shop in Queanbeyan. After the closure of the camp at the end of the war, the contents were auctioned off in March 1919 and the listed items provide a slight glimpse into life inside the camp:15 Sewing Machines, hand & stand, Singer & other best makes; 10 Single bedsteads with horse-hair mattresses; 10 Stretchers; 25 Wicker & wooden clothes chest of every description; 1 Cabinet Gramophone & 250 records; 5 Cameras, Kodaks with full outfits, also new Post Card size Kodak Developing Tank, new; 25 Wicker chairs; 20 Verandah chairs; 50 Galvanised tubs, all sizes; 25 Mincers; 100 Saucepans & kettles, big number aluminium; 20 Cots, some beauties; 1 New perambulator, recently cost £6 6s; Carpets, hearth rugs & linos; 20 doz Delf & Enamel Plates, all sizes; Very large quantity cups & saucers, jugs & glass ware; Writing tables, easels & blackboards; 4 Tennis nets & posts; 1 Tennis roller; 3 doz Tennis balls; 10 rackets, all best makes; 200 feet of India rubber hose; Big assortment of pictures, frames & carvings; Some beautiful clocks; 5 Chests of tools; 20 Hand saws; Axes, rakes & shovels of every description; 1 Splendid tarpaulin,14x18; 1 250 egg incubator; 50 White suits; Bed linen, & thousands of other lines.
Most items listed are basic everyday essentials - food, warmth, etc - though their mere existence demonstrate a sense of respect toward the internees. The ‘gramophone with 250 records’, ‘beautiful clocks’, ‘camera’, ‘frames’ and ‘tennis gear’ in addition to electricity, running water and sewage certainly help explain the claim ‘a happy life’. The facilities certainly weren’t all glam, with one former internee Daisy Schoeffel (nee Pearce) having described the camp to be “very badly built and kept out neither rain nor wind.”

Day 29

An article in ‘The Queanbeyan Age and Queanbeyan Observer’ from 1918 titled ‘That Camp!’ intimates the sensation the building of the Molonglo Internment Camp made on the local region: “Many rumours are still current as to what the camp at the four-mile is going to be, and the wiseacres express their opinions. Some persons, supposed to be "in the know," appear to be very mysterious and state, "Oh, I know what it is, but I can not tell you!" At all events the official voice is silent on the subject” (05.03.1918). The Molonglo Internment Camp was built during WWI after the British Government asked if suitable arrangements could be made to accommodate several thousand enemy nationals expected to be expelled from China and German East Africa. The camp was designed by John Smith Murdoch (who also designed the Powerhouse in Kingston, Provisional Parliament House, etc.) to provide “very excellent” self-contained accommodation for nearly 3000 families. He designed the buildings to be set out in a fan formation around a central hub, including a watch tower, for easy supervision. According to newspaper reports after the war the camp comprised 80 blocks of buildings, each containing 21 rooms with electric lights, and a sewage system and water supply. There was a canteen, bakery, meat stalls, recreation rooms, the aforementioned watchtower and a connection via rail. With an establishment of such size, it is no wonder it’s construction didn’t go unnoticed, with “a large number of tradesmen, labourers, and horses and drays... employed in carrying out works on a large scale,” reported in the same article above, along with men arriving daily from Sydney and special trains carting building material to the site. In the end, the settlement only ever housed 200 German civilians, including British subjects (Australians) married to Germans, rounded up from around Australia, Fiji and other parts of the British Empire. As the Germans didn’t want their subjects to be taken to such a far away place as Australia and after negotiations with the British Government the arrangements to move them hither was cancelled.

Day 28

 

Today marks four weeks since the start of Canberra’s lockdown with yet another week still ahead of us, though a further extension certainly isn’t off the cards. With the lifting of some restrictions last Friday, be them only minor, there is already a sense of normality starting to loom in and around Canberra City, with a surge of cars on the street, a hype of activity on the footpaths and the echoing sounds of grinding and hammering in the air. After nearly a month of peacefulness this construction noise has certainly become quite noticeable and seems to dominate the soundscape. I gather this is accentuated by the juxtaposition of peace and quiet (with the odd chirps and tunes of songbirds) to the burst of activity in just a week. Also that in any normal circumstances my attention would otherwise be focused on everyday tasks and I would be spending less time at home, nor would I be walking about the city during the day. Furthermore, like the cars that pass by our apartment complex, these noises usually hover in our peripheral attention and in time will recede back to simple white noise. Reflecting on all this while walking around town earlier today - with the constant banging, sawing, beeping, clunking, voices calling, all echoing around me - I was reminded of a passage I recently read on the construction of the Molonglo Settlement, which once sat on the land occupied by the light industrial area of Fyshwick today. Built between February and April 1919 by little over a thousand men, it was erected in ‘secret’ as the Molonglo Internment Camp. One of about ten places of internment built in Australia during WWI to hold over five and a half thousand so-called enemy aliens. Though just how secret is debatable, because the noise of hammering is said to have run out across the paddocks and sounded something like machine gun-fire.

Day 6; Glebe IV

Looking through aerial shots of Canberra from 1950 (image 1) when Glebe House still existed till today (image 6), it seems the shortsightedness of demolishing Glebe House also extended to its grounds. The area was left derelict as seen in image 2 and 3 (aerial shots from 1968 and 1972, retrospectively) and it wasn’t until 1983 (image 4) after a community campaign to save the trees that the grounds of the old rectory was proclaimed as a park, and listed as a heritage site by the National Trust of Australia (ACT) and the Australian Heritage Commission. By this time the area was certainly in dire straits and being utilized as an overflow car park. During the mid-80s the southern end of civic, consisting of Glebe Park, was developed with the construction of the National Convention Centre, office towers, a hotel and the casino built around it. Glebe Park as we know it today - fencing, foot paths, gates, a rotunda, gardens - isn’t much older then I am, having only been completed in 1989 (image 5; 1990). I have only one memory of Glebe Park as a child - and rightly so, as the luscious green park was not the safe recreational grounds we know and adore today - and I would have been about six or seven years old. I remember it being a warm sunny afternoon when we visited and embedded in my mind is the fencing: I was completely mesmerised by the metal and stone towering over, which seemed so unworldly compared to other parks in Canberra and straight from a movie scene. I don’t recall ever visiting Glebe Park again until I moved into Reid in 2015 (even having worked right next door at Crowne Plaza Hotel during University). Since then I have watched the gentrification of Reid have a profound impact on Glebe Park, which used to have a high crime rate and hold the reputation of a drug dealing; it was certainly not a place to visit after sunset. In 2017, I held my birthday in the park and at the time I remember being pleasantly surprised on how many other people were enjoying and utilizing the magnificent grounds.

Day 5; Glebe III (pt. b)

There was a lot of protest to the demolition of the old rectory, with proposals made to hand it over to the Canberra Historical Society. Though the government of the day was determined to proceed with the development of Civic and the building was sold to Acton Football Club on the basis the building was to be pulled down and debris removed: the demolition started on 26 June 1956 and was completed by November of the same year, with the bricks used to build a new clubhouse in Forrest (I’m yet to track this down). Many letters were written to the Canberra Times in support of preserving the old rectory, with one sentimentalist from Reid reflecting on the bricks being made in the swap behind the house, commenting: “nowadays they come from Bowral!” (The Canberra Times, 08/04/1954.) Though back to my cup of tea: why was the rectory built so far away from the church? Through a variety of sources there is mention of two allotments of land given by Joseph Campbell and what I have concluded to be: two acres for the establishment of the St. John Anglican Church and a hundred acres to the Anglican Church for use as a Glebe (the plaque commemorating Glebe House mentions an extra 18 acres though I’ve not seen any other reference elsewhere). Looking through maps of the region around the time of land acquisition for the Federal Capital, it’s interesting to note that no reference is made to the Glebe or land owned by the Anglican Church. Though all maps have the 2 acres of land and position of the church clearly marked. In a 1912 map (image 4) we see a slim piece of land to the west of the church that is marked as a separate allotment to Duntroon Estate: could this have been the 100 acres? The boundaries of this allotment of land can be identified in a 1913 (image 3) and 1915 (image 5) map with the rectory also marked. My original theory was that the rectory was built at the closest point on the Glebe to the church, though the maps seem to disprove this theory. Though what about those bricks and swap land behind the house? Could the rectory have been positioned at the closest point, that was the most appropriate land for building on?

Day 4; Glebe III (pt. a)

A cup of tea on the balcony seemed the only appropriate way to contemplate the news that the current ACT lockdown has been extended for a further two weeks. Looking out over the CIT Reid campus, the steeple of St. John Anglican Church can be seen rising in the distance, which has always intrigued me - not the church, although it is certainly a quaint pre-Canberra landmark, but the distance. For approx. 200 metres north of my cup of tea, stands the central east gate of Glebe Park, Glebe House Gate, which opens onto Cooyong Street (known as Ballumbir Street until 2005). Standing at this gate looking east, you will find a six story nineties apartment complex across the road, slightly hidden behind a few large elms and a hedge running along the footpath. An opening in the hedge leads into an open circular area with a stone plinth in the centre, the plaque reads: “Here from 1875 to 1954 stood the Church of England rectory built on the 120 acre glebe provided by the Campbell family of Duntroon.” The rectory was designed by A. D. Soares and built between 1871-73, largely at the cost of George Campbell, though funds were also obtained by public subscription and from a week-long fete held in the gardens of Duntroon. The bricks were made from nearby swampland clay and fired onsite and the hardwood timber sourced from weetangera; all internal fittings were of cedar. In 1914, with the acquisition of land for the establishment of the Federal Capital, the building was also acquired and leased back to the church until 1926, when a new rectory was built on the grounds of St Johns. It was then used as temporary lodgings for St. Gabriels Girls School and the Church of England Girls Grammar, until the construction of Girls Grammar was completed in 1929. Afterwards it was leased to the McAlister family who ran it as a guest house, and named it “Glebe House''. By 1954 the house had become derelict and was declared unsafe and marked for demolition the following year.

Glebe House; The Canberra Times (ACT : 1926 - 1995), Tuesday 12th March 1963, page 18. National Library of Australia.

Glebe II.

The huge downfall of rain in and around Canberra over the last few months has unbelievably changed the landscape, from a dry-barron brown to a luscious green. A scene I can only recall a handful of times over the last three decades. In fact, it’s the first time I’ve ever seen the mountainside boarding the northern suburbs of Canberra - One Tree Hill - any other colour than brown.
Planned as a Garden City, the term ‘bush capital’ emerged as a much more suitable way to describe Canberra, with most of the ‘green spaces’ filled with Australian natives - suited to the dry conditions and able to withstand frosty, cold winters - consisting of dull-green canopies and at one’s line of sight: shades of brown, grey and the odd speckle of green. Shades of deep, luscious greens segregated to the odd well-maintained garden, golf course, the few sporting fields and the Parliamentary Triangle. Except, of course, for one ‘green space’ just south of the city: Glebe Park.
In the 1840s when Australian Federalism was not even a concept and the land now consisting of Canberra mere grazing fields, Joseph Campbell of Duntroon Estate (Portion 58, County of Murray) gifted a hundred acres to the Anglican Church for the establishment of St John the Baptist Church (Reid) and an adjoining Glebe (an allotment of land used to support a church). The first occupant, reverend Pierce Galliard, had a passion for trees and surrounded the rectory with Poplars, Elms, Willows and Hawthorns. Today, Glebe Park, maintained as a public green space, exists as just a fraction of the allotment, at 4.7 hectares (11.6 acres), and is adorned with the survivors and descendants of said trees. Making for luscious deep-green canopies that tower over well maintained lawns and gardens.

Glebe I.

From Palko we have moved to Glebe Park Residence - an appropriate named complex - in a top floor apartment that has sweeping views over Canberra and when on the balcony Lake Burley Griffin and surrounding National Monuments. Soon after moving in we had a few people over for afternoon tea, where it was commented “oh, you can see the dome of the War Memorial from your lounge”, which I hadn’t fully appreciated until that moment. Now, each evening, while relaxing on the couch I can’t help but appreciate the glow of the lit-up dome in the distance.
The apartment complex sits on the southern point of Glebe Park, bordered by Corranderrk St. (with CIT across the road) to the east, The National Convention Centre Canberra to the south and the Canberra Casio to the west. Completed in 2009, the complex comprises of 184 apartments and four commercial units across four towers, each eight levels high. With a central courtyard complete with a pool, spa and barbecue area.
The detail and thought put into the build are exemplified by both how well it has aged and how accommodating the spaces are to live, a farfetched concept in comparison to many of the new complexes popping up throughout Canberra. The apartments, particularly the bedrooms, are spacious, with floor to ceiling marble style tiling in the bathroom – depending on your views of Hiltonesque bathrooms, you may love or loth – segregated reverse cycle air con and plenty of storage. Oh, and lets not forget the garbage chute. Although that’s not to say the apartment doesn’t come with its faults: carpet throughout, slightly outdated glass cabinetry above stovetop and single glaze windows - mostly only cosmetic.

So far I have enjoyed the extra space (having lost Anthony in the apartment twice already) and it’s hard to believe we once occupied a 4m2 living area.

Glebe

The huge downfall of rain in and around Canberra over the last few months has unbelievably changed the landscape, from a dry-barron brown to a luscious green. A scene I can only recall a handful of times over the last three decades. In fact, it’s the first time I’ve ever seen the mountainside boarding the northern suburbs of Canberra - One Tree Hill - any other colour than brown.

Planned as a Garden City, the term ‘bush capital’ emerged as a much more suitable way to describe Canberra, with most of the ‘green spaces’ filled with Australian natives - suited to the dry conditions and able to withstand frosty, cold winters - consisting of dull-green canopies and at one’s line of sight: shades of brown, grey and the odd speckle of green. Shades of deep, luscious greens segregated to the odd well-maintained garden, golf course, the few sporting fields and the Parliamentary Triangle. Except, of course, for one ‘green space’ just south of the city: Glebe Park.

In 1873 when Australian Federalism was just a concept and the land now consisting of Canberra mere grazing fields, Joseph Campbell of Duntroon Estate (Portion 58, County of Murray) gifted a hundred acres to the Anglican Church for the establishment of St John the Baptist Church (Reid) and an adjoining Glebe (an allotment of land used to support a church). The first occupant, reverend Pierce Galliard, had a passion for trees and surrounded the rectory with Poplars, Elms, Willows and Hawthorns. Today, Glebe Park, maintained as a public green space, exists as just a fraction of the allotment, at 4.7 hectares (11.6 acres), and is adorned with the survivors and descendants of said trees. Making for luscious deep-green canopies that tower over well maintained lawns and gardens.