Darlinghurst Blog: Detritus: Paper Ghosts

Halloween was two weeks ago but these little white paper ghosts were still hanging from a tree outside Novar on Darley Street when I went by the other day. They looked really sweet, swaying in the breeze.

Darlinghurst Blog: Detritus: Monday Morning

No, that's not the detritus of my weekend. 

I've actually given up the 311 for the moment and am now walking to work, which is far more interesting than staring out the window of the bus. Yesterday morning I came across a few abandoned toys, including that bong on Nimrod Street, as well as a dollhouse on Tewkesbury Avenue:

And a condom on Darley Street:

I wonder what I'll see today.

Darlinghurst: Past and Present: Stoneleigh

I've become obsessed recently with browsing through the City of Sydney's online ArchivePix gallery, because I love seeing how Darlinghurst's streets once looked. My tailor friend Russell Wade dreams of having a pair of glasses that allows you to see and walk through Sydney's streets in the 19th Century. I'm happy, for the time being, just looking at the old photos, despite the fact that they only really cover the 1900s. It is quite rare to discover pictures of the area prior to then. 

If you have any old photographs, please send them to me and I can do another post in my brand new series, Past and Present. To begin with, here are some pictures of my dream house, Stoneleigh at 3 Darley Street. The picture above was taken in 1981, when the building was in quite a state of disrepair. It had been like that for some time and had been used as a storehouse for the neighbouring Marist Bros College. The roof was then badly damaged in a Sydney storm and it looks like workers in the Valiant and ute are about to start fixing the place up, for here is Stoneleigh four years later:

And here it is today:

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Links:

Stoneleigh History

City of Sydney ArchivePix

City of Sydney Archives

Darlinghurst: History: 1923 Petition

I Take But I Surrender*

I am not ready to concede defeat in my search for the secret tunnels. In fact I am so enjoying the adventures I am having in my quest, and the stories I have discovered along the way, that it will actually be disappointing if this little investigation reaches an end. 

Keeping me inspired are the letters and suggestions from readers about methods of finding the secret tunnels, which have included joining a tunnelling association, alerting the mainstream media to my search and - my favourite - employing ground-penetrating radar to find the tunnels. 

But I'm also kept going by the little stories I have unearthed in the City of Sydney Archives as I wade through ancient files associated with the Marist Brothers College. And the best story yet, has to be the one about the police and the council's investigation in to the naughty boys and the bread crusts.

This 1923 council file includes about a dozen letters of correspondence between the Town Clerk's office, the City Health Officer, council aldermen and the Inspector General of Police regarding a petition from May 1923, by the ''various residents and ratepayers in the vicinity of Darley and Liverpool streets'' in Darlinghurst.

''The Marist Brothers carry on a school for boys at the corner of Liverpool and Darley streets, Darlinghurst,'' a letter attached to the petition reads.

''This school came in to existence about 12 years ago, but now over 400 boys attend the school. The playground is a very small one and the boys have turned Darley Street in to a playground, especially that part from Liverpool Street to Wootton Hospital, which forms a cul de sac.''

''The boys use this playground from 8.30 in the morning till dark, taking complete possession of same playing the particular game then in favour, whether it be football, cricket or other sport, obstructing the traffic generally and partly obstructing those residing in the vicinity.

''The boys throw food, fruit skins etc about the street and footpaths and even in to the passages and ventilators of adjacent properties and act in a boisterous and rude manner causing annoyance to the tenants and lodgers occupying the flats immediately surrounding that particular part of the street including the staff and patients at the hospital.''

The petition of about 50 signatures was instigated by Ellen M Foley, who lived at Novar, 4 Darley Street, with her sister Margaret McNab; Geoffrey and Ada Fox; and C&L Hoad. In fact, part of the joy of discovering the petition was learning who used to live in Darley Street and the surrounds.

Maud Riley lived at the family home, Fairmount, with Gertrude and Sydney Riley and Katie McMaster, who all signed the petition. (Ten years later, in January 1933, a motor mechanic John Snow, 20, was shot in the leg by an unseen gunman as he was about to enter the doorway of Fairmount, where he lived.) The Fairmount Flats were listed for sale in July 1929 and it is noted in the listing that the building was on the corner of Liverpool and Darley streets, so perhaps it was this building:

Fairmount? 363 Liverpool Street

The petition also included people with addresses in Macquarie Street in the Sydney CBD, Darling Point, in the city's east, inner-west Dulwich Hill, as well as shopkeeper E.J McGurgan from 389 Liverpool Street and 364 Victoria Street. 

389 Liverpool Street 

364 Victoria Street (since demolished), right of the Green Park Hotel

A representative from Wootton Private Hospital (now known as Iona) also signed the petition and sent a letter of complaint.

The council was the first to investigate the complaint, and sent an officer of the Health and Sanitary Department to carry out surveillance of the street. 

''The pupils certainly play in this dead end street, but seem well behaved for a body of young boys,'' wrote City Health Officer J.S. Purdy.

''Miss Foley is, I understand, of a very nervous temperament, and I believe is more annoyed by the noises made by the boys than by any food scraps that may be thrown about.''

The residents were not happy with that investigation and continued to bombard the council and various aldermen with long, hand-written letters of complaint. In July 1923, Inspectors J.P. Collins and N.J. Courtney, were sent out to observe the boys. This time, with results!

''A further observation was carried out between 12.30pm and 12.55pm,'' the investigators wrote.

''On this occasion the boys were found to be very noisy and two of the lads were found throwing food-scraps on the footway, which consisted of one small piece of bread crust, and in the other case a piece of cake.''

The culprits were 11-year-old David Burfitt, of Anzac Parade, Kensington, south of Sydney, and 12-year-old Charles Currie, of 31 Johnston Street, Annandale, in the inner-west.

The pair were ''called up and informed that they were breaking one of the City By-Laws'' and were advised in future to ''roll any lunch scraps in paper and place them in the garbage tin on the school's premises.''

Investigators Collins and Courtney told the Town Clerk they could take action on the food-scraps but the noise concerns were outside their jurisdiction and should be referred to the Traffic Branch of the Police Department. 

The following month the matter received ''special attention on the part of the police'' and the noise ''has now been returned to a minimum'', wrote the Inspector General of Police in August, 1923:

It is not clear how the police achieved such a hasty and successful outcome. Neither are there any thank-you notes from Ms Foley within the file. 

Fortunately for young Burfitt and Currie, the cake- and crust-throwers, the council considered a warning to the boys as sufficient punishment.

''On account of their tender years a warning has been given them by the Inspector and this is regarded as sufficient in this instance because if they are proceeded against they would have to be taken before the Children's Court where the Magistrate would probably administer a warning,'' the Town Clerk wrote. 

I thought this was such a funny episode in Darlinghurst history and I am amazed that so much work went in to catching a couple of little boys throwing cake and crusts. I wonder if Burfitt and Currie went on to behave themselves or continued to be naughty. I suspect the latter. 

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The logo in the photograph above and at the top of this post, was embossed on most of the council's letters. It appears to have been designed in 1842 with the establishment of the Municipal Council of Sydney. It's certainly very different to today's City of Sydney anchor logo.

Which one do you prefer?

Darlinghurst: Art and Culture: Gallery 9: The SNO Group

During our Spring-time Saturday adventures Crystal Kaye and I were drawn into this narrow, flower-enveloped Victorian doorway at 9 Darley Street. It was like jumping down a rabbit hole, so it was fortunate that the first thing we came across was a ladder, just in case we needed to climb back out:

The ladder is actually one of the works in the Sydney Non Objective (SNO) Group's latest show, which runs until this Saturday at Gallery 9. The SNO Group is made up of a dozen or more artists: Justin Andrews, Lynne Eastaway, Sophia Egarchos, Billy Gruner, Suzie Idiens, Kyle Jenkins, Andrew Leslie, Ruark Lewis, Adrian McDonald, Rachel Park, Giles Ryder, Ian Andrews, Masato Takasaka, Sydney Ball, Rolande Souliere and Mattys Gerber.

And it should not be confused with the Snowball Group, an Australian financial services company that is listed on the stock exchange as SNO.

No, the SNO Group trade in art and ideas only, and if you want to invest (works range from $350 to $15,200), visit their website.

The building that is home to Gallery 9, sold for $1.515 million in 2001 and is listed on the City of Sydney heritage register, but I could find out little about its past. The single storey terrace was built during the Victorian era and still has loads of large rooms with high-ceilings:

And a few walls that are perfect for hanging artworks on:

Auto-Change 2 (Black Version) 2009, by Ian Andrews

Vinyl record, sandpaper, CDRom 30 x 40cm

Andrews's work was our favourite in the entire show. When Crystal put on the headphones and gazed at the vinyl record with its black sandpaper heart she felt like she was meditating. When I put them on, I felt like I was on another planet. Which is a good way to feel sometimes.

When it came time to leave the rabbit hole, we couldn't help but linger on this wonderful, wide old veranda:

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Gallery 9

9 Darley Street

Darlinghurst NSW 2010

02 9380 9909

www.gallery9.com.au

Darlinghurst: Heritage Items: Stoneleigh

Stoneleigh

- Register of the National Estate, NSW Heritage Act

Oh, to live in Stoneleigh,

If only it could be.

Ms Violet Tingle of Stoneleigh,

Sounds so right to me.

I so badly want to live in this mansion at 1A Darley Street, but it hasn't been on the market since 1990 - when it sold for $3.18 million. I wonder how much I would have to pay for the keys 20-years later? It's my dream Darlinghurst pad and I haven't even been inside. I can only imagine what it's like . . . the marble floors, high ceilings and the parties I would host. And how I would have a room each, dedicated to day dresses, evening gowns, high-heeled shoes and feathered head-pieces. And a library, of course. And maybe even a room purely for flower arrangement, with a sink, custom shelves to hold vases and a large bench stocked with scissors and ribbons. And it would be really useful to have a writing room, flooded in sunshine with a desk next to the largest window. I'd also definitely have a little cocktail lounge with big comfortable chairs, an old record player and a well-stocked bar.

But this two-storey Victorian Regency home, with its beautiful colonnades and fine hedge, is not only grand, glamorous and unattainable, it has an interesting history too.

Stoneleigh was built for distinguished solicitor William Barker in 1860 - the same year Abraham Lincoln was elected US President, Anton Chekhov was born and Charles Dickins published the first instalment of Great Expectations.

Mr Barker, a church-going colonist, was born in Ireland in 1815 and came to Australia in 1830, at the wee-age of 15. By the time he was 38, Mr Barker was important enough to be granted 28 parcels of land in Darlinghurst and the surrounding area. Seven years later he built Stoneleigh, on the highest point in the hood.

Mr Barker once ran as the candidate for the seat of East Sydney and lost, not surprisingly in retrospect, to Sir Henry Parkes, the Father of Federation who went on to serve five terms as NSW Premier (and who also had his own mansion, Kenilworth, designed by John Young in distinctive Gothic style on Johnston Street, Annandale, in Sydney's inner west - it sold for a measly $3.35 million in 2007).

Mr Barker was a partner in the firm, Norton, Son and Barker, and was once offered a District Court Judgeship, but declined the position because he preferred private practice. He died suddenly at his home in Bondi in 1879, aged just 64.

I am not certain of when Mr Barker vacated Stoneleigh for Bondi but from 1870, ten years after it was built, the grand home belonged to Richard Jones, founder of the Maitland Mercury newspaper (still published by Fairfax) and a former chairman of the Commonwealth Bank. Jones died inside Stoneleigh on August 25, 1892. Apparently on that day, each year, his ghost appears in the kitchen asking for a cup of tea.

I made that bit up, but it's highly possible.

In 1895 the home moved into the hands of another banking big-wig, Sir J. Russell French, general manager of the Bank of NSW, and he stayed at Stoneleigh for ten years.

From 1907 the building operated as a boarding house and was owned by Henry Tongue. I could find no further details about this boarding house period or the curious Mr Tongue, but in 1912 Stoneleigh was snapped up by the Marist Brothers High School, which occupied the neighbouring building, now known as Alexandra Flats.

When the Marist Brothers sold up in '68, I can only assume that Stoneleigh - which for a brief spell went under the decidedly less romantic name, Greencourt - was resumed as a private residence.

I'm not sure who is living there today - there is often a black Porsche in the driveway - but two rather obscure businesses have their address at Stoneleigh.

The first is called Stoneleigh Gallery and judging by their website, they are a wholesaler of deluxe silk flowers. At one time they were listed with NSW Tourism and appear to have invited travellers in to the property to peruse the gardens and its artfully placed urns - drats that I missed this!

The other business is called Liberon Waxes, which is the name of a cult bees' wax polish for wooden furnishing. Just listen to this guff from a wax website:

''Liberon Beeswax Polish brings back that memory of a time when the pace of life was less hectic and when drying and wood-denaturing aerosol waxes had yet to be invented.''

I guess Stoneleigh evokes the same memories . . . I often sit around, idly day-dreaming about the less hectic pace of life I would have at Stoneleigh, and how I would definitely employ a cleaner, because there was no way I was looking after that big old mansion on my own.

Darlinghurst: Heritage Items: Novar

Novar

- Register of the National Estate, City of Sydney Council Heritage List

This Victorian Italianate-style villa at 298 Liverpool Street, on the corner of Darley Street, was built way back in 1880, so is now 130-years-old. And it doesn't look too bad for an old fella.

The NSW Heritage Branch says changes were made to the building in the 1930s, significantly an overlay of ''stripped Classical style'', which I assume means the once decorative facade was pared back, although there are still elements of Victorian decoration along the rim of the roof.

There's also an ugly, white drain-pipe running down the building, which I believe was added in the late 20th or early 21st Century.

I would love to look inside this building, which sold for $1.95 million in 2000, because it's one of the area's few mansion-houses that hasn't been converted into flats.

I have seen a young family coming and going from its Darley Street doorway and while I am slightly jealous of their home, this still isn't one of my favourite Darlinghurst buildings.

Again, it's a privacy issue for me: Novar's windows open right on to the street, so if left open, passers-by could easily stick their heads in.

My friend, Ruby Molteno, said she saw a For Sale sign outside Novar a few weeks ago, but I can find no record of it being listed for sale.

Darlinghurst: Heritage Items: Iona

Iona

- Register of the National Estate, NSW Heritage Act

From St Johns Church I ducked down Tewkesbury Avenue to the imposing gates of Iona, a 30-room mansion, whose actual address is listed as 2 Darley Street.

The 1888 Victorian Italianate pile was bought by filmmakers Baz Luhrmann and Catherine Martin - of Strictly Ballroom, Moulin Rouge and Australia fame - for a neat $10 million in February, 2006.

I once knew someone who lived in The Hopes apartment building, at 251 Darlinghurst Road, which backs on to Iona. One evening while I was visiting, a very fluffy grey cat arrived at the person's door and was grandly introduced as Baz Luhrmann's Cat. I think the Hopes resident spent about one year befriending the cat just so he could make such introductions to impress his guests.

Back before the cat, in the mid-nineteenth century, the site was home to Iona Cottage, which was first occupied by Elizabeth Grose and later, Robert Carter, who in 1879, extended and improved the small dwelling to become worthy of the title ''gentleman's residence''.

In 1888, the year of Australia's centenary, wealthy businessman and farmer Edward Chisholm purchased the property and was responsible for building the two-storey mansion with verandas, still known today as Iona. He lived with his family at the grand palace until his death ten years later.

Another decade on, in 1908, Iona was purchased by Adela Taylor, wife of former Sydney Mayor Allen Taylor (of Taylor Square fame), and renamed, for reasons unknown to me, Wootten.

Over the next 70-odd years the building changed hands three times and was used throughout as a private hospital with the respective names, Wootten PH, Winchester PH and Hughlings PH.

During this period the building and site also underwent minor alterations and additions, including the construction - in 1935 - of a seven-room nurses' residence, which was demolished in 1984.

In the 1970s and 80s the site fell into the hands of developers who variously wanted to raze the grounds and build three, 60-storey apartment blocks (can you imagine!), or convert the residence into 13 apartments.

The projects failed for a number of reasons, mostly financial, but it was during this time that the National Trust successfully campaigned for Iona to be included on the Register of the National Estate.

Iona is now listed on the State Heritage Register (with a permanent conservation order), the Local Environment Plan and the National Trust register, so no one can mess with it.

Yet most people don't have a chance to see it either.

It would be good if Luhrmann and Martin opened the grounds to the public for one day each year.