Photo by Max Dupain 1966, Powerhouse Museum collection. Courtesy Max Dupain & Associates.
We’ve just installed a small exhibition to mark the fortieth anniversary of Sydney Opera House on 20 October. The anniversary, by the way, is of the official 1973 opening by the Queen, not the first public performance there on the 28 September 1973, an interesting choice of dates.
Powerhouse Museum collection, object 93/178/4. Gift of Franz Lazi, 1993.
Selfies are rampant today. We can see the phenomenon as harmless fun, as creative self-expression, or perhaps as a threat to civilisation, drowning us in egocentric banality. But of course people have long indulged in self-portraiture, and today I want to focus on an unusual pair of selfies that reveal one man in contrasting settings, telling us two stories about himself. This first image, created in 1947, portrays professional photographer Adolf Lazi as strong and calm, a connoisseur of Chinese sculpture and interested in books. He is playing to the camera without looking into the lens. Because he refuses to let us look into his eyes, the portrait is a little unsettling: while we see something about his relationship to the external world, we are not privileged with a glimpse of the inner Adolf.
The recaptured image from an all but destroyed glass plate negative
Most people don’t have the patience to attempt what our recent intern, Amir Mogadam from the Universtiy of Newcastle has just finished – probably one of the most challenging jigsaws you’re ever likely to see. But conservators are a patient if somewhat quirky mob. Amir worked with conservator Rebecca Main on a storage project to condition report, treat and rehouse a collection of large glass plate negatives (515 x 415mm) which were produced around 1870-1880 at the Freeman Brothers Studio, Sydney.
Max Dupain, Sydney Ancher house, Neutral Bay, 1958. Courtesy Max Dupain & Associates.
The careers of architects and photographers are often intertwined. An outstanding case is Max Dupain, Australia’s leading photographer of architecture, whose work was crucial in building the reputations of several architects including Harry Seidler, Sydney Ancher and Glenn Murcutt.
Powerhouse Museum collection, object 2004/68/1. Gift of Frederick Pollock, 2004.
If you visit the Powerhouse Museum between 10 am and 1 pm on 9 March for our 25th birthday celebrations, you will be able to see the accurate detail captured in this bronze bust of Sydney pharmacist Ernest Pollock. Created by the process of Sculptography in Osaka in 1934, it demonstrates that 3D scanning is not a recent achievement. I will be one of several curators in the museum over the weekend, each with a group of objects to discuss with visitors. The theme of my selection is ‘making things’.
A looped string bag or bilum made from plant materials in Papua New Guinea in the early to mid 1900s. 2011/44/12-2 Powerhouse Museum collection
Always bulging, because that’s their nature, string bags are almost a thing of the past, relegated to memory by designer totes and paper carrier bags. One of the few string bags I see these days is the orange one my daughter uses to stuff all the beach toys into. This week however I’m reminded of those capacious multi-purpose string bags known as bilums that are traditional to Papua New Guinea. The connection? The photographic exhibition Access to Life which has just opened at Sydney’s Powerhouse Museum for World AIDS Day 2012. Sydney is the tenth city in the world to show Access to Life, but the first to add Papua New Guinea as a special regional component.
Pettit & Sevitt brochure 1964. Powerhouse Museum collection, gift of Ken Woolley.
My new book Designer Suburbs: Architects and affordable homes in Australia is back from the printers and will be launched soon.
Designer Suburbs began a couple of years back when our former curatorial colleague Judith O’Callaghan asked me if I’d like to co-author a book about the architect-designed project homes of the 1960s and 1970s.
We were struck by the fact that the houses built by Pettit & Sevitt in Sydney and Merchant Builders in Melbourne are still regularly featured in the popular media as examples of the best of suburban architecture, thirty years or more after the demise of these building companies.
Dahl riding a merry-go-round, 1930s. Collection: Powerhouse Museum
I have just catalogued the 1930s photographs from The Dahl and Geoffrey Collings Archive as part of an internship project for my Masters of Art Curatorship at the University of Sydney. Although photography was only a small part of their practice, beginning in the mid 1930s, it paints a very broad picture of their holistic approach to art and design.
Hay Street, 1987-1989, photo by Alex Mattea, City of Sydney Streetscape Survey. © Alex Mattea.
A couple of years back I was contacted by a photographer named Alex Mattea. From 1987 to 1989 Alex photographed every building and every street in the Sydney CBD. He wanted to show me the results.
During the 1980s Alex was alarmed by the head-long speed of the city’s transformation. Familiar buildings and views were disappearing apparently unmourned. He felt that a record should be made of what was being lost, and spent months creating one. I borrowed Alex’s negatives for a time and had some of them scanned and assembled as street panoramas. You can see of few of them here.
In late August 1922 a group of astronomers, naval men, and Aboriginal stockmen began the arduous task of unloading their complicated scientific equipment and stores from boats onto a deserted beach on the coast of Western Australia. The shallow nature of the approach meant the boats were anchored three or four miles from the high-water line and the stores, after being brought to shore, were then transported by donkey wagons to the observation site at Wollal. This was no ordinary expedition and its members knew the eyes of the world were on them waiting to see if they would be the ones to finally prove Einstein’s controversial ‘Theory of General Relativity‘.