Regional Services

Tamworth, the electricity town: A report from the Powerhouse Museum’s Movable Heritage Fellow for 2011

My name is Sally Inchbold-Busby and I have had a very rewarding year working on an oral history project at the Tamworth Powerstation Museum (TPM) as recipient of the 2011 Powerhouse Museum’s Movable Heritage Fellowship. I used my experience in Tamworth to complete my final internship for my Master’s Degree in Museum Studies at the University of Sydney.
Tamworth has a remarkable industrial history. In 1888, Tamworth became the first town in the southern hemisphere to have its streets lit by a power station owned and operated by a municipal council. To celebrate the Centenary of electric street lighting in 1988, a group of electricity industry employees created Australia’s first all-electric museum. Today visitors can see a nationally significant collection that includes a working replica of the original power plant and an amazing collection of photographs, industry apparatus, light globes and electrical appliances spanning from early development to the 1960s.
The broad aim of my project is to research and collect the oral histories behind the key objects within the museum’s collections. A further outcome is the development of a publication to provide public access to previously undocumented information. I am working with Sandra McMahon who is TPM Manager and Director of the Tamworth Regional Gallery under the auspices of the Tamworth Regional Council. My brief is to develop a handbook that will take the reader through the museum’s narrative while telling the story of the Tamworth’s electricity industry – the idea being to draw out the social aspects of the story to complement the museum’s strong technical base.
During the first half of the year I set myself the task of selecting twenty-five objects on which to base the story and my oral history research. This was not an easy task as there are so many fascinating objects in the many collections at the museum. I spent considerable time getting to know the collections and the people who work with them. Because I am interested in early steam engines, I decided to focus the first part of the story on the development of the 1888 power station. From there I selected objects that represented the technological and social changes brought about by the introduction of electricity.

1888 power plant - John Fowler engine and boiler set with replica Crompton dynamo: Image: courtesy Tamworth Powerstation Museum

Throughout the year I have worked closely with the museum’s team of volunteers, who as former employees of the industry have some great stories and a wealth of information to pass on. I have interviewed nine people who have provided insight into what it was like to work in the power station and the importance of the industry to Tamworth. The stories I have heard and will include in my publication are moving, dramatic and entertaining. Here is an excerpt from an interview with Mal Crocker recalling peak load times at the power station in the early 1950s.

I witnessed a power generation overload which was quite exciting. The engine room where the turbines were housed would vibrate at times of peak loading. Most winter mornings around 8.00am when the industry had started for the day, all the offices and shops would have their lights on. In the homes it was breakfast time which meant the jug, toaster, stove and the radiator were all drawing power at once. This was peak load time when all the machinery was operating at high demand. The engines would settle down as the morning progressed but the power station really did rock.”

I have also learnt a lot of new things. For example; As mentioned above I know why the power station shuddered on cold winter mornings and that Hotpoint irons got their name when the maker’s wife said the heat needed to focus on the tip.

Hotpoint iron display stand, 1950s; Image courtesy of Tamworth Powerstation Museum

Through the Movable Heritage Fellowship I have been able to put into practice the understandings I gained from my studies. I have pursued my personal interest in industrial heritage while producing a publication that will be useful to the museum and its visitors. It has been particularly satisfying to develop my own project and follow it through to completion. Throughout I have been supported by the Powerhouse Museum and my colleagues in Tamworth. The development of working relationships has been very important to the success of my project. I have met some wonderful characters and have enjoyed many cups of tea. My project is due for completion later this year and I am currently working on its design. I can’t wait to see the finished product, a publication called ‘The Night The Lights Went On’.#
The Powerhouse Movable Heritage Fellowship for 2012 is now accepting applications from continuing students who would like to undertake a research project on an object or group of objects in a community museum, historical society or other collecting institution. The Fellow will receive $5,000 and spend a minimum of one week at the Powerhouse Museum working with a supervisor.

# A handbook that will take the reader through the museum’s narrative while telling the story of Tamworth’s electricity industry is being launched by Powerhouse Museum energy curator, Debbie Rudder on November 9th, 2011 in Tamworth at the Powerstation Museum.

The many uses of a black dress: Stories from the Australian Dress Register

Bessie Rouse's black bodice, 1885-86. Collection: Historic Houses Trust of NSW, Photograph: © Alex Kershaw

Black clothing has become a ubiquitous choice for the twentieth century adult. Yet in the nineteenth century black clothing had specific associations and uses. The black garments on the Australian Dress Register show both the versatility of black and how its use in fashion gradually changed during the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century.

Black has many, often contradictory, connotations. Over time it has been a symbol of grief, wickedness, humility, the Devil, seduction, austerity and glamour. It is the dramatic and grown-up opposite to white.

Before synthetic dyes were available blackish fabric was made by dying and re-dying fabric to produce extremely dark tones. This was time consuming and therefore black fabric was expensive. Ironically, the coloured fabric which symbolised austerity was relatively pricey. The destructive nature of the dying process meant that black fabrics were particularly unstable and pre-eighteenth century black dress is rare today.

During the course of the nineteenth century black became especially prominent in the form of menswear and mourning dress. With the industrial revolution and increased urbanisation, black became the dominant colour in urban menswear. Black was also a sensible colour choice, easily disguising the grime of the city and manual labour.

The 1882-1884 morning suit, entered onto the Australian Dress Register by the Grenfell Historical Society, is a classic example of a man’s black formal suit.

The Victorian era gave great significance to the outward display of mourning. Queen Victoria only wore black following the death of her husband in 1861, endorsing lengthy displays of mourning, particularly for widows. Mourning dress was typically of the same cut as contemporary fashions, but made from black lustreless fabric such as crepe. Gradually, as time passed from the bereavement, the woman could wear more luxurious fabrics and accents of lighter tones of grey and lilac.

Black mourning wear could be reused or altered for other purposes. On the Australian Dress Register, Bessie Rouse’s black bodice from 1885-1886 shows signs of alteration and could have been a mourning garment transformed into an elegant evening bodice. In the late nineteenth century black became a daring choice for evening wear and by the early twentieth century intricate, and expensive, mourning practices had begun to wain.

Around the turn of the twentieth century, black and dark colours were often favoured by mature women. There are two examples of such dresses from the early twentieth century on the Register.

Beaded lace overpiece worn by Mrs Jane Crain, 1902 – 1910. Collection: The Museum of the Riverina

The black dress and beaded lace overpiece worn by Mrs Jane Crain in the early twentieth century, held at the Museum of the Riverina, and Hilda Smith’s black silk satin and lace dress, owned by the Griffith Pioneer Park Museum. The ADR entry for Hilda Smith’s dress quotes The Girls Own Annual of 1909 as stating that ‘black dresses are to be very fashionable.’

Hilda Smith's black silk satin and lace dress, 1908 – 1912. Collection: Griffith Pioneer Park Museum

In the early twentieth century the first incarnations of ‘the little black dress’ appeared and following World War I black became a cosmopolitan choice. Coco Chanel was noted for her use of black in the 1920s, and her ‘little black dress
Black became a colour of style for all manner of occasions, for women and men. For example, Miss Mather’s black crepe de chine dress from the 1930s, now in the care of the Manning Valley Historical Society, is an elegant example of black daywear from the 1930s.

Ladies black crepe de chine dress, 1930 – 1940. Collection: The Manning Valley Historical Society

With all its mixed associations black has become a style staple – at once modern and timeless, sensible and glamorous.

Rosie Cullen-Volunteer, Australian Dress Register
Further reading:

R. Clark; Hatches, matches and dispatches (National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne, 1987).

D. Ludot; The little black dress: vintage treasure (Thames and Hudson, London, 2001).

J.R. Harvey; Men in black (University of Chicago Press, 1995).

M. Trudgeon; Black in fashion: morning to night (Council of Trustees of the National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne, 2008).

V. D. Mendes; Black in fashion (V&A Publications, London, 1999).

Changing gender distinctions in dress: Stories from the Australian Dress Register

William Charles Wentworths court costume, 1855-1865. Collection: Historic Houses Trust of NSW, Photograph: © Alex Kershaw

Most cultures differentiate between male and female dress – in fabric, colour, style and accessories. In western culture, gender differentiation in dress has gradually changed. Many entries on the Australian Dress Register reflect the evolution of distinctions between men, women and children’s dress in the 19th century and into the 20th century.

During the 19th century, the differences between men and women’s clothing became more pronounced. Men abandoned the coloured silks and satins, embroideries and lace that they had worn for centuries.
Elements of decoration persisted into the 19th century, as can be seen on William Charles Wentworth’s mid-19th century court costume, which belongs to the Historic Houses Trust and is decoratively embroidered in bright colours. Overall, in the 19th century, the trouser suit, typically in muted colours, became the ubiquitous male outfit.

Mourning suit , 1882-1884, Collection: Grenfell Historical Society

Thomas Rolls’ morning suit bought in England in the early 1880s, and now held by the Grenfell Historical Society, exemplifies this style.
Women’s dress became more androgenous in the 1920s, after World War I. It was fashionable for women to take on a boyish appearance, cutting their hair short, flattening their chests and wearing calf length, shift dresses.

2008/8/1 Evening dress made for May Camille McDonald (Dezarnaulds), David Jones, 1923. Collection: Powerhouse Museum

On the Register, the David Jones dress from the Powerhouse Museum, and the Museum of the Riverina’s beaded dress made by Miss Una Simpson, are both from the early 1920s and show the simple shape of women’s dress in this period.

Beaded dress mde by Una Simpson, 1925-26. Collection: Museum of the Riverina

Trousers, previously only male attire, very gradually became acceptable for women.
It is not only in overall style and colour that gender distinctions can be found, but also in the details of a garment. The way men’s coats and jackets button left over right is inherited from the days when a man drew his sword with his right hand from his left side. The buttons were placed on the right-hand side so that the fabric didn’t catch as he drew his sword. In contrast, a woman’s jacket, coat or bodice fastens on the other side, i.e. her right side over left.

Pockets are another garment feature which historically reflected gender. In the 19th century externally visible pockets on men’s clothing were widespread and could be accentuated, for example, by a handkerchief or watch chain in a breast pocket. In contrast, women’s pockets in the 19th century were generally hidden from view in the seams and folds of their clothing.
The black dress from the Museum of the Riverina worn by Mrs Jane Crain in the early 20th century has a pocket hidden within its cotton petticoat.

Wedding dress, 1877. Collection: Quirindi and District Historical Society

The Quirindi and District Historical Society’s 1877 wedding dress features one decorative pocket, but also has a hidden pocket on the inside of the garment. Discrete pockets were considered more feminine and therefore appropriate for ladies.

While gender distinctions were quite pronounced in adult clothing in the 19th century, such differentiation was not considered important at an early age. In general, infants wore long white dresses until they could walk and toddlers wore shorter loose fitting dresses. Until the age of five or six, children wore pinafores, dresses or suits with short skirts. Gender was marked by the parting of the child’s hair, on the right for boys and in the centre for girls, as well as slight differences in garment material and trim.

James Somerville's pelisse, 1880-1890. Collection: The Cavalcade of History and Fashion

Boy’s dresses buttoned up the front and girls up the back. James Somerville’s pelisse of broidery anglaise from the early 1880s, belonging to The Cavalcade of History and Fashion, is an example of a male child’s dress which buttons up at the front. Between the ages of five and seven, at the discretion of their mothers, boys were dressed in short trousers and given their first short haircut, marking their first step towards independence.

Boy’s black velveteen suit, 1928-1930. Collection: Griffith Pioneer Park Museum

Between 1890 and 1920 children’s clothing became more gender specific. Around the end of the 19th century boys began to be put directly into trouser suits, such as the black velveteen suit held by the Griffith Pioneer Park Museum, rather than skirted suits. Colour coding children’s dress according to gender, such as blue for boys and pink for girls, was not common prior to the 1920s.

Today women wear many styles of dress traditionally reserved for men. Yet this loss of gender distinction has not been mirrored in male attire and children’s clothing is more gender specific than it has been historically. Similarly, some garment details, such as pockets, have lost their gender associations, while other distinctions remain. Evidently, the relationship between dress and gender is continuously evolving.

Rosie Cullen-Volunteer, Australian Dress Register

The Australian Dress Register launch: collecting Australian costume

The Museum has been working with regional organsiations and communities to create the Australian Dress Register, a collaborative, online project about dress in New South Wales pre 1945. This includes men’s, women’s and children’s clothing ranging from the special occasion to the everyday. Museums and private collectors are encouraged to research their garments and share the stories and photographs while the information is still available and within living memory.

Dress Register launch at the Museum of the Riverina with from left to right: Rebecca Evans, Rosie Cullen, Sarah Pointon, Lindie Ward, Dawn Casey and Rebecca Pinchin

The Australian Dress Register was officially launched at the Museum of the Riverina in Wagga Wagga on Tuesday 16 August by Daryl Maguire MP, the local Member of Parliament and Government Whip. The Powerhouse Director, Dawn Casey and staff involved in the project gathered with regional curators from Broken Hill, Griffith and, of course, Wagga Wagga, joined by an audience of family members linked to the entries and interested local residents, to celebrate this important occasion. They had plenty to discuss.

A fascinating display of garments from regional galleries, that have already been entered on the register, was put on display and Luke Dearnley showcased the site online for the audience and explained how it functions. This sophisticated website is a leader in its field. There are many diverse entries from public and private collections that capture intriguing stories about community history across NSW.

These entries will increase as more regions contribute their dress stories and the register will go Australia wide in the near future.

Norman Myott, grandson of Hilda Smith whose black dress (1908-1912) is on display behind the boys outfit 'Boys black velveteen dress, Griffith Pioneer Museum

The colour of a wedding dress

Cooper family wedding dress, 1906 Collection: Manning Valley Historical society

Eagerly anticipated, the Australian Dress Register (ADR) went live on 21 March 2011. To date only contributors have had access to the pilot database; now it’s fascinating content is available to the wider community.

Over the next few months we will be seeking feedback on the Register and ironing out any remaining problems before the official launch of the website.

As a volunteer on the ADR project, I noticed that there are many wedding dresses on the Register. This prompted me to take a closer look at wedding dresses, in particular their colour and the way they have been used.

Whereas everyday wear is frequently discarded, a bride’s dress is often cherished and preserved. Weddings are vested with such social importance that information about wedding dresses, such as the wearer and the date they were made or worn, is often known and this can make them particularly interesting.

The ADR contains several white or cream wedding gowns, many from the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century.

However, Western wedding dresses have not always been white. Roman brides wore yellow. During the Middle Ages blue was considered the colour of purity, not white, and both bride and groom wore a band of blue. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries pale green was a popular colour for wedding dresses, due to its association with fertility.

The tradition of the white wedding dress only originated in the nineteenth century. Although brides continued to wed in other colours, Queen Victoria’s white wedding gown in 1840, set a lasting trend in wedding fashion. White, symbolising purity and chastity, became the favoured colour. Interestingly, in the nineteen century many ‘white’ wedding dresses were actually cream as bleaching silk to a crisp white only became possible in the twentieth century with the use of harsh chemicals.

Prior to and well into the nineteenth century, there was no single colour that was customary for wedding dresses. Brides generally wore their best dress, whatever its colour. Bridal fashions were very similar to contemporary mainstream fashion, making it easy for brides to reuse their wedding dress for smart occasions or as everyday wear, with minimal alterations.

On the Australian Dress Register there are several examples of non-white wedding dresses which were reused, most likely reincarnated as ‘best dresses’.

Mary Ann Moore's 1855 wedding dress Collection: Quirindi and District Historical society

Mary Ann Moore’s purple silk taffeta wedding dress, from the Quirindi and District Historical society, was worn for her wedding in 1855, but was probably subsequently her ‘best dress’. Her daughter and her granddaughter later wore the dress for their weddings.

Mary Napier's wedding dress 1880s. Collection: Grenfell Historical Society. Image courtesy Kate Chidlow

Mary Napier’s 1880 brocade wedding dress, from the Grenfell Historical society, is a practical coffee colour. There’s also Maria Harper’s Wedding Dress of 1883, owned by the Port Macquarie Historical Society, which was made from brown silk and green brocade.

Maria Harpers wedding dress, 1883 Collection:Port Macquarie Historical society

Alterations along the skirt are evidence that this dress was not worn for Maria’s wedding alone and was probably let out for her seven pregnancies.

During the twentieth century wedding fashions diversified. While wedding dresses often mirrored contemporary fashion, it also became acceptable for wedding dresses to resemble older styles, which made it less likely that a wedding dress would be worn again. Today most brides wed in white or cream and rarely wear their wedding dresses after their wedding.

Looking at dresses like Maria Harper’s and Mary Napier’s, there is something lovely about a stylish but practical dress, not only worn once for a marriage ceremony, but also worn years into the marriage and altered according to fashion and the woman’s changing life.

Rosie Cullen – volunteer, Australian Dress Register

Regional Services Internship: The Manning Valley Museum

Manning Valley Historical Society Museum. Photography by Marsha Rennie

The Manning Valley Museum was established in 1964 through the incredible foresight and hard work of local farming women. They literally drove around on the back of a ute from farm to farm calling for locals to empty their sheds! In 1966 the Society moved into what was previously a General Store first established in 1871 by the Duff family in which to house the museum collection. They did not have any museum skills but had a real passion for their community. Today the museum still operates without a Curator and the volunteers are much the same, coming with various experiences to work with a passion for preserving the history and objects within the walls of the old store.

As the textile ‘custodian’ of the Manning Valley Historical Societies Museum, I was delighted to be accepted, along with my colleague Mieke Van Werdt for a Powerhouse Museum Internship. I certainly had no idea what to expect and I was soon to learn the breadth of skills I could acquire and the capacity of a 5-day program to transform every aspect within our Regional museum.

The art of box making. Photography by Marsha Rennie

The first day brought lessons in paper conservation with Margaret Jurasek. Paper conservation?? What would a textile manager possibly learn from a Paper Conservator? I was impressed to learn the importance of simple sand bags when displaying books and picked up a variety of skills from making mylar mounts and folders to the ‘art’ of box making – not just any lidded box but the hinged, foam lined, cotton tape enclosing, photo labelled type! Necessary skills for a textile volunteer in a low budget regional museum.

Across the room, I met the talented Gosia Dudek who shared with us the magic of building displays using simple ‘pins’, silicon tube and fishing line! She gave me real skills for presenting professional displays securely. Whilst in the conservation lab, we also learnt to absolutely not rub any preparation into our leather and timber objects. This is a revelation for decades of well-meaning volunteers everywhere armed with Mr Sheen or linseed oil!

Range of tools required by Conservators to build displays. Photography by Marsha Rennie

In the basement, I not only got to visually feast on the collection but observe real storage solutions for our Manning Valley Museum. This rack on castors would be the ideal answer to our dilemma of storing large garment boxes in our back workroom. It would allow extra storage whilst being able to easily access our permanent shelving too small for garments.

Photography by Marsha Rennie

Even when not actively engaged in a ‘lesson’ – opportunities to professionally ‘develop’ abounded. Just wandering through the ‘transit’ area and examining the Powerhouse Museum curators wish list items gave me reason to reflect upon our own accessioning choices now and into the future.

Anni Turnbull the Social History Curator, was the fresh set of eyes I needed to immediately see the opportunity to breathe life into our SES exhibit- a corner of our museum that had seemed like just another collection of objects. It was suggested that we dig up old newspaper articles of rescues that had been carried out by the men who had used the equipment.

Photography by Marsha Rennie

Both Anni and Diana Lorentz explored the undeveloped potential of our museum to represent the story of our buildings history and this was best demonstrated by exploring the Powerhouse’s “What’s in store?” exhibit. Diana and Malcolm McKernan also helped me develop a strategy to highlight significant objects amongst our ‘clutter’, improve our signage and explore the potential for storage to be developed on the exhibit floor itself.

The internship surpassed all expectations. It was a pleasure and an inspiration to meet so many passionate and generous professionals giving freely of their time and knowledge to enhance our humble regional museum.

Marsha Rennie
Manning Valley Historical Society Volunteer

My experiences with the Powerhouse’s Movable Heritage Fellowship

I will always remember the day I was told I had been awarded the Powerhouse Museum Movable Heritage Fellowship for 2009. It was just one of those unforgettable occasions. It wasn’t too long before Christmas and I was making hundreds of tiny gingerbread men to give away as gifts. I was literally up to my elbows in gingerbread. My mother was holding the phone to my ear, I was desperately trying to rid myself of bits of dough and, as it turned out, the dough was merrily drying out. This gingerbread experience was a sign of the year to come – hectic, exciting, messy, difficult, trying, unforgettable, terrifying and absolutely wonderful.

At the time of applying for and completing the Fellowship I was doing Professional Experience at Hornsby Shire Historical Society Museum as part of a Masters Of Museum Studies at Macquarie University. It was strongly recommended to me by my University Supervisors that I apply for the Fellowship, but two days before the close of applications I had still not thought of a project to apply with. Then, I was sitting talking to one of the Museum Volunteers, Joan, about her Father, Albert French. Albert had been involved with The Advocate Newspaper in Hornsby, a newspaper which is still running today. She showed me what could only be described as ‘a large lump of metal’ which was thought at the time to be the only remaining machinery left from the days of Albert’s time as editor.

The Advocate Press. Photography by Elissa Macdonald

It was downstairs at the museum, on its side, and nobody knew what it was, other than some type of press, or what it had been used for. My project was born, with an unidentified lump of metal at its heart. I applied with an ‘I think’ . . . and won.

Of course, it didn’t take too long to identify what the press was, how it had been used, and why, in itself, it was essentially unimportant. Its role in my project was essentially done, other than being the point from which the tangents of my project grew. My project itself though was just beginning and ‘the mind map from the black lagoon’ as a few people involved in my project described it, had just begun to grow. Soon, I was committed to ‘saving’ the original editions of The Advocate held within the collections of Hornsby Shire Historical Society. I rehoused each individually bound book of papers in a new, archival storage box, and digitised each and every page of paper (over 19000 images), making them available digitally, to reduce the stress on the original documents. I also made them searchable, increasing the usefulness of the papers as a research resource. I became involved in documenting the process of letterpress printing, meeting many of the wonderful people who had worked in the industry. I made films of the process, using the working collection of equipment housed in the Gulgong Pioneer Museum, and greatly benefited from the expertise of the people maintaining the collection. I even gathered a large collection of typeblocks, had them printed (by the wonderful Arthur Johnson of Gulgong Pioneer Museum) and made available online in a Virtual Typebook.

A copy of The Advocate from 1919. Photography by Elissa Macdonald

On top of these projects, the main outcome of my Fellowship was a virtual museum, with four separate ‘exhibitions’:
• The Advocate Exhibition focused on the development of the newspaper and associated businesses.
• The Philanthropy Exhibition explored the French family, who were largely responsible for the success of The Advocate, and were also greatly involved in the progress of Hornsby Shire.
• The Letterpress Printing Exhibition, including the video, showcased the process and equipment used in printing The Advocate and most other publications at the time.
• The Collingridge Exhibition is centred around the man behind the first book ever printed by Advocate Press, George Collingridge.
You can visit the Online Museum here, though this version has not been updated while I work on its future.

At this point, you might be forgiven for thinking the Fellowship was complete. In some ways, you would be correct, but in many ways you would not be. Although the initial project may have been complete, the Fellowship was the beginning of many things. I met many people who I have formed strong, continuing relationships with. They supported me throughout and beyond the fellowship and have encouraged my ideas and dreams. Their support allowed me to blossom, and pursue areas of interest I had never thought of, building my confidence, both in my own abilities and my ideas. It was through the people I met while doing my Fellowship that the idea for my first blog was born. The Tingle Factor Box, a history blog for children, was begun during the Fellowship, with the support from these people, and is now a successful blog in its second year. You can visit the blog here. Another blog is currently being developed, around a collection which began to be formed during my Fellowship year.

The Fellowship cemented my interest in further study, and now I am looking at embarking on a PHD. I acquired many valuable skills, which will be of use in my career and many of which are already being used in my role as editor for the Macquarie Museum eZine, aMUSine. You can read the most recent edition of the zine here

The project itself was also a springboard for further research. Remember that fourth exhibition, centred around George Collingridge? I had become thoroughly fascinated by him, and decided he deserved more attention. Throughout this last year, I have been working with his granddaughters to develop a new online ‘museum’ dedicated to this extraordinary man. It is hoped that it will be launched in the next few months.

Finally, my advice to prospective Fellows. The Fellowship has been one of the best and most rewarding experiences I have had, and I thank the Museum and its staff for that. It has taught me much and inspired my future research and projects, and I would commend anyone considering applying to do so.

Never think ‘it can’t be me’ because you never know, it just might be. Look at me, my proposal was full of questions, ‘I thinks’ and ‘I believes’. It even turned out that the original item I set out to research played only a small role in the project as it developed. That was another valuable lesson I learned though. ‘I thinks’ and ‘I believes’ are useful springboards for things to grow from. Everything begins with a belief. Perhaps it is fitting then that I close with another. I believe the fellowship is as much about your potential as it is about the potential of your project.

Elissa Macdonald

Elissa Macdonald was the 2009 Movable Heritage Fellowship winner. Applications for the 2011 Movable Heritage Fellowship close on the 4th of February. Details can be found here

Fastenings: The Australian Dress Register

There’s more history in a button than you’d think. As a volunteer helping with the Australian Dress Register, I compiled information on the history of fastenings as a resources sheet for the Register’s website. In the process I uncovered some interesting facts about the different ways clothes have been held together and the histories of different forms of fastenings.

To find these details I used the books in the Powerhouse Museum’s research library. I also looked at web-based sources of information. However, I had to make sure any information I used from the internet was reliable. I looked at several different types of fastenings, including hooks and eyes, drawstrings and press studs. But the most interesting histories were those of the button and the zipper.

Collection: Powerhouse Museum

Though buttons and toggles were used for many hundreds of years, the buttonhole appeared in Europe around 1200, copied from the Turks and Mongols by returning crusaders. By the mid 14th century, buttons had become very popular. The button’s popularity spread across Europe, with monarchs adorning themselves with literally thousands of buttons. In the 16th century there was puritanical condemnation of buttons as sinful and the number of buttons used diminished a little. In response, button-makers made increasingly detailed and elaborate buttons. Buttons have been made from all sorts of different materials – shell, bone, metals and today plastic.

The modern zipper was invented in the United States in 1913. The name ‘zipper’ appeared in the US after the fastener was added to a pair of rubber boots and they were called the ‘Zipper Boot’ after the buzzing noise and speed of the closure. In the 1920s and 1930s, some clergy were opposed to zippers as they allowed one to take one’s clothes off too quickly!

Collection: Powerhouse Museum

During the 1930s, zippers began to appear on skirts and dresses and on trouser flies from 1935. Tailors disliked zipper flies and created the fly front, a fold of cloth to hide the zipper. In the late 1930s colourful nylon zippers became available and designer Elsa Schiaparelli championed the use of the zipper in couture, adding bold zippers as features of her designs from 1935.

In the 1960s the zipper again became the focus of fashion, with designers such as Emilio Pucci using them as a centre front feature on some of his youthful print dresses.

Collection: Powerhouse Museum

By World War II, metal zippers were widely used in Europe and North America. Following the war they spread to the rest of the world and ceased to be a novelty. Today, strong plastic is also used to make zippers.

The entries on the Australian Dress Register demonstrate how fastenings can be both functional and fashionable. For example, the Ladies Black Crepe de Chine Dress c.1930-1940 (ADR ID 234) from the Manning valley Historical Society has a very low neckline which is held together at the collar with a black and silver bakelite art deco brooch. The Dress Register entries give a sense of the great variety of clothes fastenings that have been used over time.

Image courtesy of Marsha Rennie. Manning Valley Historical Society.

Image courtesy of Marsha Rennie. Manning Valley Historical Society.

Written by Rosie Cullen

Hay Mower made by HV Mackay- Massey Harris

Photography by Jean-Francois Lanzarone. Collection: Powerhouse Museum

Old farm machinery has always been popular. Most farmers have one or two pieces tucked away in a shed or sitting proudly out in a paddock. Like beloved workhorses, the machines are allowed to retire gracefully and live out their days in peace. Perhaps that’s why I like this hay mower so much. It was made sometime between 1930 and 1955, and used on a small mixed farm and orchard at Berrima, NSW. It probably mowed meadow hay, or grass between rows of trees in an orchard, before being stored for 12 years in a shed on the same farm then given to the Museum.

The mower was made by the company that derived from Hugh Victor McKay, an Australian responsible for significant innovations in the design and production of agricultural machinery. McKay was a good employer who, in 1907, was involved in a court case that became known as the Harvester Judgement. The ruling gave rise to the Australian Basic Wage. McKay is also remembered for having provided the funds to establish the Royal Flying Doctor Service. After he died in 1926 his company amalgamated with the Canadian firm of Massey-Harris Co. Ltd to form HV McKay-Massey Harris.

Rabbits, rabbits everywhere

G’day, mate!

No wait! Don’t stop reading! I know it sounds ridiculous, but I’m just trying to fit in! My name’s Sidney Flicker and I am an American student studying at the University of Sydney. Currently, I’m doing an internship in the curatorial department at the Powerhouse Museum as part of my Master of Museum Studies degree. My job is to work with curator Margaret Simpson and research photographs in the Clyde Engineering Photograph Collection, in particular those that show farm machinery.

In the past few months, I’ve looked at and researched all sorts of agricultural machines including ploughs, cultivators, and thatch stitchers. These machines were all made by Clyde Engineering Co. Ltd., a large Australian company located in the Sydney suburb of Granville. Clyde Engineering began as Hudson and Sons around 1857, with the final name change to Clyde Engineering Co. Ltd. in 1898. The Hudson family worked tirelessly on projects that ranged from railway carriages to airplanes and farm machinery to engineering equipment.

Photographic glass plate negative, NSW Government Railways, second class railway carriage, Clyde Engineering Pty Ltd, 1920-1945, 88/289-1172. Collection: Powerhouse Museum

Photographic glass plate negative, first avro cadet trainer aircraft A6-15, Clyde Engineering Pty Ltd, 1939, 88/289-145. Collection: Powerhouse Museum

One of the farm machines that caught my eye during the research was the rabbit poison cart that was made after 1902 by Clyde. The name of this machine model was the “Toxicon” and it was designed to drop and bury poison pellets that rabbits would hopefully eat.

Rabbit poison cart, “Toxicon”, Clyde Engineering Pty Ltd, after 1902, 88/289-894. Collection: Powerhouse Museum

It’s sad to admit, but before I came to Australia I knew very little about this wonderful country. Much of my information came from Crocodile Dundee and stereotypes – “shrimp on the barbie”, constant shark attacks, “a dingo ate my baby!” and the rabbit infestation. I believed that when I walked down the streets of Sydney I would see rabbits jumping and scurrying everywhere: the Australian equivalent of the squirrel.

If I had arrived in Australia one hundred years earlier I would have been right, but in those one hundred years the Australian government and its citizens have worked hard to fix the rabbit problem. The “infestation” began when 24 wild rabbits were imported for hunting sport by an elite member of society in Victoria in 1859. Within forty years, the rabbits had spread across the continent hitting New South Wales in 1880. Along their way the rabbits affected the natural environment and agriculture.

The rabbit poison cart was part of a farmer’s arsenal against rabbits, while other strategies ranged from trapping and explosives to dog-led hunts and poison to rabbit-proof fences and warren ripping (dragging a plough through the underground network of burrows). Seven to ten rabbits could eat as much pasture as one sheep! These early methods were not as affective as later methods. Sometimes they did more harm than good since poisons could be eaten by anything, including pets and ironically, the rabbit’s natural enemies including dingoes, foxes and goannas.

During the Great Depression, the large quantity of rabbits was actually a good thing: rabbits were a cheap source of food (once you caught them) and selling rabbit pelts resulted in pocket money. Pelts were made into Akubra hats and worn by World War II Australian soldiers. The result was a battle between farmers who wanted to protect their crops and ‘rabbiters’, also known as rabbit trappers, who wanted to protect their livelihood.

Finished rabbit fur pelt hat, United Fur Felts, Sydney, 1940, H4266. Collection: Powerhouse Museum

In the 1950s, the Australian government released Myxomatosis, a disease that only affected rabbits, which had a 99% kill rate. While some rabbits have developed a resistance to the disease, it continues to be very effective in keeping the rabbit numbers down. Anti-fertility agents in the 1990s also help keep the rabbits from breeding, well, like rabbits.

It is these actions, among many others, that prevented me from seeing rabbits hopping around the Sydney streets when I arrived in Australia. But even today rabbits affect agriculture, in 2002 rabbits were causing losses of more than $600 million in Australia through crop and pasture damage.

I would like to thank Collections Australia Network for their online exhibition Run rabbit RUN! and Margaret Simpson for aiding my understanding of rabbits in Australia.

Sidney Wilkinson-Flicker