Whispers

Charlotte Lane, Darlinghurst on Saturday, 14 November

Some streets or lanes give me a special tingle. The walls whisper. It’s not just because they have features of the past. In this case, a row of brick and sandstone houses are from an earlier time than the usual Victorian terrace. What I see in my mind’s eye are not the old Colonial times but the early 20th Century. Crammed life in narrow streets, small corner shops, men with hats, ragged-looking children, no trees, no flower pots.

Darlinghurst was the domain of gangster boss Tilly Devine. I look up the history and specifically search for Charlotte Lane. In this lane, the founder of the first Razor Gang, Norman Bruhn, was shot dead outside Mac’s sly-grog and cocaine den in 1927. Bruhn had come from Melbourne and thought that it was ridiculous that Sydney’s crime world was run by two women, the other being Kate Leigh. Serves him right. It is said that this killing was executed by one of Tilly’s gang, Frankie Green. But there are other possibilities, one being the owner of the den, Joe McNamara, who had been robbed by Bruhn and his mates sometime earlier.

This end of Darlinghurst struggles against the bullies from the city. The high buildings of College Street tower over old Charlotte Lane.

Ivy

Ivy Street and Lane, Darlington on Sunday, 8 November 2020

First I walk along Ivy Street which has mainly Victorian terraces and big, old eucalyptus trees.

This suburb still seems to have the Council waste collection day for household items which the neighbouring Redfern has not to my great regret. I am tempted to take a discarded little footstool with me. I am also tempted to bring some of my own unwanted household goods here. But I resist both temptations.

Across Abercrombie Street, Ivy Street is dominated by the large warehouse which used to have offices and now flats. I had an encounter with this part of Ivy Street, when I did my ‘Night Cruise’ project, photographing the building through raindrops on the windshield of my car.

Ivy Lane is divided by Lawson and Abercrombie Street, merging here with the Glengarry Castle Hotel at the corner. People walk slowly, getting coffee from the shops, stopping for a chat. The area feels like a secluded neighbourhood this Sunday afternoon. Not like the busy thoroughfare it is during the week between Redfern Station and the nearby university.

Ghost Signs

Rose Lane, Darlington on Sunday, 8 November 2020

I had forgotten to look for Rose Lane after I found out a few months ago that Rose Street doesn’t exist anymore in Darlington.

I came past it recently by coincidence. It is a very small lane with an old brick factory building on one side. Through the wire mesh windows, I can see a courtyard with trees and plants. Some parts of the windows still have dusty, old pieces of frosted glass. Through one of them, I suddenly recognise the head of a female mannequin. It looks eerie, a bit like a person trapped in a cage.

People live in this building. Around the corner are two doors in bright colours. There still is the name of the factory in faded letters. Only a few of them are recognisable. A young woman with two little children has just arrived at one of the doors and is ringing the bell. It’s an old-fashioned one where you turn a metal knob, like winding up a clock.

On the other side of the lane is the Darlington Activity Club, a low brick building with tin rubbish bins in the courtyard. Looking across from here is another lane with yet another former factory at the corner. Here I can read quite clearly that it was called Blue Diamond and has a pale blue triangle painted on the brickwork.

Neighbourhood Watch

Flora Street, Mascot on Friday, 6 November 2020

There is nothing remarkable in this street. At the end of its cul-de-sac, a woman is unloading shopping bags from her SUV, taking them inside a house. An elderly couple is watching. Then she gets into her car to leave, greeting me in a friendly fashion as I walk by.

Something looks interesting about that tucked-away property. When I think she is already far away, I return. But no, she comes driving back and asks me why I am taking photos. I have to think fast. “Art project” doesn’t sound right this time. I say that I research architecture and record the different styles of houses - nothing about the people. She thought I was here on behalf of a neighbour’s grievance. In other words, they must have done something to cause a grievance to a neighbour. People who are suspicious of photographers always seem to have some agenda. 

Daphne, Rose, Ivy Street, Botany

In Daphne Street, they are building a row of new townhouses. One has a white Madonna and Child near the front steps. I walk past a few remnants of industry. A rustic-looking house contains Redelman Fabrics. In a front yard sits a container labelled ‘Hapag-Lloyd’, the North German shipping company I worked for in Hamburg many decades ago.

A huge empty lot alongside Rose Street is being prepared for the construction of yet another apartment block. I like how it looks at the moment. Hard to explain why. Maybe because of the white soil, or because it shows a side of places that were hidden for a long time. 

In Ivy Street are a preschool and a sewage pumping station. Builders are making a lot of noise in a house next door. Children are coming home from school.

Ethel

Ethel Street and Lane, Eastwood on Thursday, 5 November 2020

Ethel Street features mainly uniform-looking apartment blocks made of dark red brick. There used to be brickworks in Eastwood which explains the prevalence of this building material.

It’s raining heavily today and it’s cold. I had my doubts about even coming here but I was in the neighbourhood after having stayed with a friend in Dundas Valley. 

At the end of the street towards the railway tracks are a few shops, and a Korean grocery store at the corner. Fruit and vegetables are on display outside in boxes with handwritten labels above them. One says “Please DO NOT eat fruits on display”. This seems funny to me as it is above a box with pineapples. 

On the other side is a long, pale yellow building with a pub and a few shops, some empty. “First Fortune”, whatever it once promised, is no more. I venture out into the rain and into Ethel Lane, which looks sinister with its dark brick walls under the heavy clouds. A psychiatrist and a psychologist share premises. You enter through a narrow door under a tattered and faded canopy - rather what I’d imagine being the entrance of a cheap brothel.

It's really great to see you again

Frances Street, Randwick on Friday, 30 October 2020

Frances is one of the more majestic streets in Randwick. At the corner to Avoca Street is the old building of the Town Hall and on the other side the St Jude Anglican Church with its historic cemetery. I like that they let the grass and wildflowers grow high between the graves. The cemetery closes at 4 p.m., in 5 minutes, so I am a bit nervous about venturing too far in. For that reason, I didn’t inspect the newer-looking statue of three girls, which I saw from the street through the fence.

A bit further down is a park with a trampled lawn where people sit with their children after picking them up from school. There are a few mansions in this street. One is now a convention centre. Jacaranda trees are in blossom. The sky doesn’t know whether to be dark or friendly. Bus stops now display encouraging slogans: “Hello. It’s really great to see you again.” During lockdown other signs read: “Ask, are you ok?”

Several generations

Elizabeth Street and Lane, Lee Street, Ivy Street and Lane, Randwick on Thursday, 29 October 2020

Elizabeth Street has a music school. The sign reads “Music Is What Feelings Sound Like”. Two young women are loading lots of bottles of alcohol into a car parked out front.

Several generations of architecture come together in this street. Art Deco, 50’s style, Victorian, 21st century. A former garage has become a second-hand clothes shop.

Elizabeth Lane offers views of backyards, and a bit of urban grunge. 

Lee Street is on a hill with a view of the city. The area looks a bit like a country town with its unpaved lanes and grassy footpaths. There is a wooden gangway to one of the houses, like a bridge over a creek. Another house is bordered by a low, ancient-looking stone wall.

Sunlight shimmers through the leaves of Acacia trees.

Ivy Street

Ivy Lane

Chelsea and Zamia

Chelsea and Zamia Street, Redfern on Monday, 19 October 2020

On the corner of Chelsea Street are the ‘Little Evie’ café and deli. This street has some very pretty houses, some of them timber cottages. One building is grey and quite neglected. It must have been a warehouse recognisable from the loading beam. The window underneath is bricked up. There is another neglected warehouse and a Victorian terrace, apparently also empty, with trees and vines taking over. Chelsea Lodge is a 60s yellow brick block and advertises a flat for lease. As I walk along on one side of the street, I pass a school girl, about 10 years old who is wearing magenta-coloured leg warmers. When I go back on the other side, she comes towards me again. 

I have taken photos in Zamia Street before around 2005. I can’t find the spot where I photographed the public housing buildings through bougainvillea blossoms. But the blocks are still there, looming against dark clouds. These are the ones belonging to the complex built in the 1970s with a utopian vision and now threatened to be demolished. The development plans were already made public a few years ago. It is unclear yet what is going to happen.

Further down the street is a shed-like construction that seemed to be made entirely out of rusty corrugated-iron panels. That’s what I thought back then. But it is a solid house and a family is apparently living there. I hear the voices of children from behind the fenced-in yard.

Strangely, the girl with the magenta leg warmers is with me again, this time accompanied by another girl and a woman. They all get into a car. The two streets are not even so close to each other. I feel like a stalker.

Both Chelsea and Zamia have a playground that is full of children and adults, real neighbourhood meeting points. If you have small children…

Where glass was made

Crystal Street, Waterloo on Monday, 19 October 2020

This is a new street in the big apartment complex which was built on the grounds of the former Australian Glass Manufacturers. It’s more than a complex, almost a suburb in itself with its own streets, parks and shopping centres. The first development started around 2003 and it has continuously grown since then.

I pass the slick facade of the ‘Orange Supermarket’, an Asian grocery store. The interior manages to look as if it is in an old Asian quarter and the prices are low. In the middle of the street is a small park with a water basin from which fountains of water emerge and benches are on each side. People are sitting and reading or having lunch or enjoying the water display. The trees are already quite high and give shade. There are lots of cafés and restaurants and more benches and palm trees lining the street in the pedestrian part. People sit around, meeting for a chat. It’s really quite nice here, even though I don’t like the buildings. At the end of the street is Coles Supermarket. 

Far Horizons

Morgan Avenue, Matraville on Thursday, 15 October 2020

I cannot find Morgan Avenue. I am already at the roundabout at La Perouse where I eat my sandwich, sitting on a bench. It is very windy. I turn the navigator on to find a petrol station and make another attempt to locate this street. It leads me through an area where trucks come thundering out of yards without stopping to look left or right. Finally, the navigator takes me into the Botany Cemetery. From here I can see the bay where Captain Cook first landed in Kamay (Botany Bay) on the fateful day of 29 April 1770.

I find it unsettling to be guided to a street in a graveyard. I used to like cemeteries, reading the inscriptions on the stones and guessing about the lives of the people buried. Today it makes me sad. The inscriptions on the headstones speak of tragedies. Here lies a two-year-old boy and his mother who died only one month later. Somewhere else a young man is dearly missed. I think I am too old to enjoy cemeteries.

A car arrives, and a middle-aged man gets out with a watering can. Most graves here don’t have living plants. I am curious about who he is visiting. When he has gone, I find the grave easily. It has a rosebush, the water droplets are still on the petals. The woman remembered on the stone died old in 1986. I am touched by this dedication.

Many of the graves have no one who cares for them anymore. They are caved in, the stone plates broken into pieces, covered with lichen.

School children walk by on a path outside.

Lola and the sea

Lola Road, Dover Heights on Friday, 9 October 2020

Lola Road ends at a park called Raleigh Reserve and a cliff overlooking the ocean. The park is just a stretch of mangy grass with a tree in the middle, but the view over the wide open sea is amazing. There are different styles of houses, big and small. I walk past a cute bungalow with three chairs and a table on the verandah. Just when I wondered why people don’t use their outdoor settings, a white Spitz appears from behind the house and an old man with a teacup and a book in his hands follows. 

The girls have taken over

Leslie Street, Tempe on Sunday, 4 October 2020

In the days this street was named, Leslie was known as a male name, while the female version was Lesley. But in the meantime, this distinction has been overturned. It sounds the same anyway. And so I am here in this cozy street. I hope all the neighbours like each other because it’s the kind of environment where they should. I feel that most small cul-de-sac streets have this ambience of privacy. Because you can’t drive through, there is no reason for anyone to go there who is not connected in some way to the residents. Except for me, of course. 

The only person I see is a young man in his driveway, loading a small truck with witches’ hats and whatever other barricades. A trailer is parked in the street, stacked up with the same things. A sign says it’s a traffic management business.

The weird and the beautiful

Margaret Street, North Sydney on Monday, 28 September 2020

This street looks like a walkway in a park, going uphill between trees and bushes. First, there are some sandstone houses, a small art deco block of flats and a car mechanic workshop hidden away in a recess. Then steps are going up high to the next level. Halfway is a small lawn with a bench under trees and on the other side a sprawling building with walls and towers like a fortress. Some renovation work is in progress. They are putting in shiny corrugated aluminium roofs that clash with the medieval theme. A man working on the site asks me if I got lost. In turn, I ask him if he is the owner of this building, seeing that he looks a bit older than the average construction worker.

“No, I wished”, he answers. “You wished? It’s rather weird.” “Yeah, it is a bit. It has been here for 40 years.”

Good neighbours

Louisa Street, Summer Hill on Sunday, 27 September 2020

This street has a village feel to it. The first house at the corner features a Roman-style basin with an unhappy-looking lion face.

Doors are open, people are chatting at their front doors. Two friendly dogs, who were just a moment before sitting in a photogenic position on the verandah, turn around to come closer to the fence to look at me. In one front garden, a very sad stone man is playing a string instrument with one finger. There are offerings on a low brick wall, some stones and a golden wire crown. At the end of Louisa Street is a shop that was once a news agency, faded Herald Sun banners still visible. Now it is a local art school. Closed on Sundays. They have old-fashioned Anzac biscuit tins in the window.

Chomsky Knows

Lilian Fowler Place, Marrickville on Saturday, 26 September 2020

It’s rare to find a street in Sydney named after a woman in history for her own merit and not because she was the wife or daughter of someone. Or at least it’s rare that the street has the full name. Lilian Fowler was the mayor of Newtown in the 1930s and the first female mayor in Australia. 

The street forms an oval, lined with small workshops and offices. Today, on a Saturday, most of them are closed but there is some activity. 

On a roller door, I read “Chomsky Knows”. This seems to be rather deep and meaningful. Noam Chomsky is a linguist, historian and social critic and his ideas are said to be highly influential in the anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist movements. On the next wall, I am told that “Life Stinks”. 

There are two caravans parked in this street. One is the kind used for selling food in the street, like Harry’s Café de Wheels in Woolloomooloo. There is a small passage at the end with graffiti on the walls, and rubbish bins full of spray paint cans. It leads to Sydney Steel Road which has the famous graffiti wall where people are allowed to paint.

Three men with cameras are photographing and filming a woman in black sports gear and neon yellow trainers. She’s sitting against the wall and laughing all the time. On the other side is a huge fenced-in site with containers. I learn later that it is the building site for the new Metro. I don’t remember what was there before. Maybe a steel factory, hence the name. It’s strange how you can’t remember things, once they are gone. 

Lorna

Lorna Lane, Stanmore on Thursday, 24 September 2020

There are a lot of lanes in Stanmore. Lorna Lane is one of them. It’s not, as I first thought, because there were many back street factories, like in Lilyfield and Rozelle. Stanmore mainly started from big farming estates granted to settlers in the early days of the Colony. Over time it developed into a place where affluent working people would move to bigger houses, away from the overcrowded inner suburbs.

Today I find a few discarded things, thoughtfully arranged for people who might need these items: a lamp, an outdated TV table with drawers for the video player and cassettes, and some crockery neatly stacked. There is a tent in its bag. I am tempted in case I’ll go on a camping trip again. But I leave it, too much worry about cleaning and disinfecting. In another lane are some thick-skinned lemons on the ground which fell over the fence. I leave them too.

There is a lot of renovation happening in the area. It seems to be a sign of these times. They say home improvement purchases have increased. Bunnings is laughing.

Visionaries

Una Street, Redfern on Saturday, 19 September 2020

I’m looking for Una Street. It doesn’t seem to exist. Even though my phone map is trying to get me there with its pulsating dot. I’m at the corner of Regent Place and Lawson Square where a blue building stood empty for decades, now finally demolished. An apartment block nearby has been here for at least twenty years as far as I remember. Behind is a path with no name, maybe that was Una Street once? When I walk around the block, I see a wig shop. It is closed, maybe forever. This small area is like a peninsular between two major roads with roaring traffic. Doesn’t seem to be a good spot for a speciality store. The window display is stacked with mannequin heads wearing wigs of different hairstyles and colours. They all stare into the distance, or into the future, mouths set defiantly. It doesn’t seem good what they are seeing.

Rocky Shores

Undine Street, Maroubra on Friday, 11 September 2020

This street runs steeply downhill towards the ocean and ends at a promenade above a rocky shore. At the corner is a pretty home with stained glass windows and a swimming pool at the front, facing the sea. The view is spectacular. It’s sunny and windy today.

Some front gardens have low-growing yellow or orange flowers with thick, fleshy leaves, which only grow on the sandy ground near the ocean. They are closing their petals early for the night while the sun is still out, at least two hours before dusk. Beyond the fence of a property is an orange variety of this flower in a rock bed. Someone has written a warning on an ugly cardboard box sitting next to it: “Do not pick the flowers”. It seems to defeat the purpose.

I walk along the path for some time until I see Maroubra beach in the distance. 

Always was, always will be

Adina Avenue, La Perouse,  31 August 2020

It is amazing how Sydney is blessed with so many beautiful shores and beaches without having to travel very far from the centre. Adina Avenue is on a hill, overlooking Botany Bay.

The area is named after the French Comte La Pérouse who landed here in 1788.

I read that the original name was Gooriwal, and the traditional custodians were the Kameygal people.

The first thing I notice is an old timber church, fenced in for restoration. On the fence banners, it says ‘This Church Restoration priority belongs to the Elders, who have expressed their desire to restore the Church to provide a space for healing and fostering strong social cohesion.’ I learn later that this was an Evangelical Mission Church, significant to the Aboriginal community of La Perouse as it had been a form of protection for the Aboriginal people of the area from the government’s policy of child-taking.

At the corner of Adina Avenue and Goolagong Place is a weathered community board containing a notice in faded handwriting: ‘La Perouse Discreet Aboriginal Community. Residents only.’ Down the hill from here is a bungalow. On the low brick wall surrounding it, are written the words ‘Bidjigal Land’.

The resistance leader Pemulwuy, who fought against the British occupation in the 1790s, lived in this area. I read that he belonged to the Bidjigal people who resided in Toongabbie and Parramatta.

The white settlers found the area too rough for living, but it attracted city dwellers for day trips, especially when a tram line was created in 1902. The Aboriginal residents used this fact to create a tourist industry, presenting a snake man show and selling boomerangs and ornaments made from sea shells. The most prominent shellwork artist was Emma Timbery also known as “Queen of La Perouse” or “Queen Emma”. She is the great-grandmother of Esme Timbery who is known for her shellwork of the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

During the Depression in 1929, hundreds of unemployed people moved out to La Perouse and set up camp in “Happy Valley”. Families lived in shacks made from scavenged wood, corrugated iron, flour bags and cardboard. There was no electricity or running water.

European and indigenous people lived together there. Stories tell that there was a great community spirit despite the hardships.

The Aboriginal community of La Perouse is the only one in the Sydney region that held on to its territory until today against all adversaries and threats of relocation. Land rights were finally obtained in 1984.

Phoenix

Jennifer Street, Little Bay, 31 August 2020

This street has residential houses on one side, the Botany National Park and a golf course on the other. There is a boardwalk that leads through an area that was created for the regeneration of a plant community named ‘Banksia Scrub.’ Sadly, here too was a fire and most of the scrub has burned down, new fern growing underneath the blackened branches of short trees and bushes. 

At the end is a road dividing the golf course and I walk along a little way. It’s very windy, I have to brace myself against it. I veer off on a path that goes a bit uphill. From here I can see the undulating landscape of the golf course and the ocean on the horizon.

I think, I am looking towards the side of Little Bay, where Christo and Jeanne-Claude wrapped the coast in 1969.