Shuttered Histories: The Odyssey of John O’Brien’s Hanover St Residence

Ronak Alburz

John Lockyer O’Brien (1905–1965), a distinguished historian at the University of Melbourne, curated a remarkable collection of photographs, capturing the late 1950s and early 1960s. During a sabbatical in 1959, O’Brien’s historical curiosity led him to explore bluestone buildings, a subject that plausibly resonated deeply with his expertise. Most of these images were likely taken during this year, as he traversed inner suburban landscapes to document these structures.

These photographs offer a unique glimpse into the architectural and urban evolution of inner-city Melbourne during a time of transition. This era marked the shift from its 19th-century layout and working-class character to the eventual emergence of Housing Commission high-rise blocks. The subsequent return of the middle class to the inner city, accompanied by renovations and gentrification, further transformed the landscape captured in O’Brien’s lens.

While exploring the collection, I found multiple photographs of John O’Brien’s own residence at 35 Hanover Street in Fitzroy (1965.0004.00279;1965.0004.00156; Fig. 3). These images capture various moments in the life of his house, including renovation shots, intriguing rooftop of the surrounding area views (1965.0004.00346; 1965.0004.00348; 1965.0004.00352; 1965.0004.00354; 1965.0004.00355; 1965.0004.00357; 1965.0004.00359; 1965.0004.00360 ) and many neighboring houses from the late 1950s. This stimulated my curiosity about his own house, given his role as a historian and the photographer and left me with the strong sense that there must be something truly special about House Number 35.

With a history that spans generations, this double-storey Georgian-style bluestone house – with its distinctive doric pilasters – has witnessed a series of ownerships. Originating in 1854, it was built by Edward Willis, a stonemason who supplied stone for the early parts of Parliament House and the first Princes Bridge (National Trust database, B0167), and the house’s parapet still bears his name. Joseph Gray, a skilled cooper, then acquired the property in 1868 and held onto it for an impressive 60 years. During Gray’s ownership, the house welcomed diverse tenants, including the Victorian Infant Asylum, later known as Berry Street, from 1877 to 1881. A fascinating photograph from around 1865 from Berry Street Archive, provides a window into the early life of the house, pre-dating images captured by John by 100 years (Fig. 4) 1 According to Laurie, in 1931, Sarah Nelis acquired the house, ultimately passing it down to her niece and nephew, Cliff and Edie Salmon, alongside the adjacent and ornate Montefiore Villa situated to the right of O’Brien’s bluestone house. While Cliff and Edie chose the villa as their residence, Number 35 saw life as a rental property again. The year 1956-57 marked a new chapter as John O’Brien and his soon-to be second wife Laurie (married in 1958) became the proud owners, continuing the rich legacy of this house.

However, a twist of fate unfolded as this era coincided with the onset of the slum abolition movement in Fitzroy, as illustrated in a news article published in the Herald newspaper (Fig.1), with the headline of “Slums are Up to You” noting the early work of the Brotherhood of St Lawrence, an Anglican charity.

Figure 1: Article promoting slum abolition in Fitzroy from The Herald “Slums are up to you”, 5 August 1952. Source: Brotherhood of St Laurence Archives.

At the same time, the local residents were organizing their own campaign with a “Slum Newsletter’ (Fig. 2).

Figure 2: Newsletter announcement of Fitzroy’s first Slum clearance project, October 1952. Source: Fitzroy History Society, originally from Brotherhood of St Lawrence Archives.

Accordingly, in 1957, the National Trust established its “Survey and Identification” committee, and John O’Brien found himself a participant in this committee, as his historical expertise evidently sought after by The Trust. The committee established four distinct categories for houses, strategically determining which houses held national significance and cultural heritage worthy of preservation.

Nevertheless, upon acquiring the house in 1956-57, John and Laurie received reassurances from the Housing Commission that no further property acquisitions would occur on Hanover Street. This promise, however, would prove to be short-lived. In an unexpected turn in 1964, the Commission descended upon the north side of Hanover Street, and numbers 27 to 47 found themselves recipients of a “Notice to treat,” a decree that encompassed John O’Brien’s blue-stone residence too.

Figure 3: Buildings in Hanover Street, Fitzroy, Melbourne, c. 1958, University of Melbourne Archives, Papers of Jack Lockyer O’Brien 1950-1964, 1965.0004.00149; Figure 4: The Home of John Lockyer O’Brien, 35 Hanover Street Fitzroy, Melbourne, c. 1958, University of Melbourne Archives, Papers of Jack Lockyer O’Brien 1950-1964, 1965.0004.00078.

Fitzroy Council, in tandem with the Royal Historical Society and the National Trust, rallied in support of John, asserting the house’s value as a relic of colonial history deserving preservation. According to information from an oral history interview, as detailed on page 12 of the Fitzroy History Society’s records, Laurie attributed this accomplishment to Councillors Wood and Brodie. It is suggested that John may have initiated contact with them, leading to this achievement. This collective effort bore fruit in 1965, shortly before John’s passing, when a letter from the Commission declared an exemption for their house from compulsory acquisition.

Soon thereafter, a familiar scenario unfolded as Laurie received another letter from the Housing Commission, indicating the Commission’s interest in reopening negotiations. Evidently composing a letter infused with displeasure, Laurie effectively secures her position, compelling the housing commission to extend her tenure without restrictions. All these events occurred prior to the enactment of the Historical Buildings Preservation Act by the Hamer government. It is noteworthy that along the south side of Hanover Street, almost all houses underwent demolition and were substituted with maisonettes, except for a singular anomaly, 36-38 Hanover Street (1965.0004.00026; 1965.0004.00031; 1965.0004.00275; 1965.0004.00198). The circumstances surrounding the preservation of this particular house, facing number 35, also arouse curiosity, inviting inquiry into the reasons behind its exception.

Figure 4: View of 35 Hanover street, plausibly when it was occupied by Victorian Infant Asylum, c. 1865, source: Find & Connect. 2
Amidst the row of houses on the north side of Hanover Street, only John and Laurie’s house managed to escape the wave of demolition, while others – including number 7, of which John captured photographs before and in the process of demolition in 1959 – were torn down notwithstanding the evident absence of characteristics, as depicted in the photographs (1965.0004.00158; 1965.0004.00364; 1965.0004.00365; 1965.0004.00366), that would align with the designation of “slums”. Curiously, as recounted by Laurie, John had “[…] managed to get our house bumped up from [category] C to B presumably with the agreement of the other members. (laughs!)3

In light of these circumstances, it is worth considering that, besides his personal campaigning to preserve their house,  John’s membership in the “Survey and Identification” committee  played a pivotal role in the subsequent  reclassification and continued existence of this single house on the northern side of Hanover street.

This story has presented me with the opportunity to capture yet another photograph of House Number 35 for archival purposes, 158 years after the first photograph was taken (Fig. 5)! The enduring pine trees, standing tall and now towering over the beautifully renovated bluestone residence (– and far from the threat of ‘slums’.)

Figure 5: View of House Number 35 on Hanover St, 26 August 2023, photograph by R. Alburz.

Ronak Alburz is a Ph.D. candidate at the University of Melbourne, and her current research specifically investigates the transmission of knowledge, cult practices, and funerary traditions, with an emphasis on the influence originating from the Black Sea region and its impact on northern and central Italy in the Archaic Period.

References

  1. There is also another photograph of the house from 1988 in the Caroline Simpson Collection, record number: 38480. For ownership history see Fitzroy History Society.
  2. According to Find & Connect, the original photograph is in the collection of Berry Street Archives.
  3. Fitzroy History Society, page 13. There are two audio recordings of the interview on the Fitzroy History Society’s page. The first YouTube video, which is the full version of the interview, has a much lower sound quality. However, the above-mentioned quote regarding the reclassification of John O’Brien’s house can be found at minutes 5:40 through 6:10. The second YouTube video on the page has a higher sound quality, but it is a much shorter version of the interview. Interestingly, it starts with the third question on the transcript of the interview. The above quote was the answer to the second question, so it has been edited out of this shorter version.

The Downfall of the Urban Grocer

Joshua Strong

My father Michael, a 76 year-old Melbournian, remembers what it was like being sent to the grocer’s shop as a kid in the 1950s. “The basic staples were sold by weight”, he recalls. “You’d order half a pound of flour, and the attendant would measure it out on a scale and seal it up in a brown paper bag.” Even the biscuits were sold loose out of a large tin, and Michael knew how to double his yield: “The broken ones from the bottom of the tin were half-price, and the grocer would always have some set aside.” This recollection of a lost time comes to life through the images of grocer stores in the Jack Lockyer O’Brien collection, which shows the inner-Melbourne shopping economy before the glossy, uniform era of the supermarket. Hand-painted advertisements on the brick walls of shops almost exclusively promote Australian brands like Brooke’s Lemos Cordial and Bushells Tea. Independent hardware and shoe stores are dotted through the working-class streets, with their own branding artfully rendered on the brick facades. And within a convenient distance of every house, a grocer’s furnishing the essentials of daily life – all except one of which have since disappeared.

Figure 1: A map, created in Google Maps, showing the distribution of the stores mentioned in this post. https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/edit?mid=1gpo4nzjHSbpaOknrT4mTOKLAzhP3Hio&ll=-37.80292338235647%2C144.97519583641784&z=16

The metadata associated with these photos allows us to map a handful of these now defunct grocer’s stores in Fitzroy and Carlton alone, and trace what happened to the sites. An unnamed shop on the corner of Fitzroy and Hanover St, a short walk from the O’Brien’s house, was replaced by an apartment complex (Fig. 2). Seedsman’s store on the corner of Nicholson and Moor St, now a French restaurant specializing in duck. The store of B. Brescianini on Canning and Murchison in Carlton, a private house (Fig. 3). One-by-one, these stores were picked off and converted, as the phenomenon of self-serve supermarkets crashed into the local shopping economy from the 1960s.

Figure 2: Buildings in Fitzroy Street, Fitzroy, Melbourne, c.1958, University of Melbourne Archives, Papers of Jack Lockyer O’Brien 1950-1964, 1965.0004.00299.
Figure 3: Buildings in Canning St, Carlton, Melbourne, c.1958, University of Melbourne Archives, Papers of Jack Lockyer O’Brien 1950-1964, 1965.0004.00151.

Not all the defunct grocers were independent corner stores – some were major economic players. The collection features images of Moran & Cato, which at its peak had over 35 stores across Melbourne, including a flagship on Brunswick St.1 As Michael remembers, Moran & Cato was such a mainstay of grocery shopping in those days, that its sudden demise would have seemed as inconceivable to locals then as would the overnight permanent shuttering of all Woolworths stores to the contemporary shopper. But shortly after these photos were taken, the modern supermarket, with its prepackaged self-serve offerings and undeniable convenience, posed a mortal threat to the established grocers.

Figure 4: Moran and Cato Buildings in Brunswick Street, Fitzroy, Melbourne. c. 1958, University of Melbourne Archives, Papers of Jack Lockyer O’Brien 1950-1964, 1965.0004.00342.

The directors of Moran & Cato had attempted to stay ahead of the game; in the mid-1950s they had already begun to transition their stores to self-serve.2 However, it was a store in neighbouring Collingwood, founded by GJ Coles as a nickel & dime in 1914, that would adapt best to the new shopping paradigm. Coles had been expanding and diversifying for decades, but it was not until 1960 that it launched its first freestanding supermarket.

Figure 5: The original Coles. Painting after a photograph of first store (taken in 1914), Smith Street, Collingwood Coles Variety Store No. 1. © Coles Myer Ltd, obtained from http://handle.slv.vic.gov.au/10381/372656.

The Coles strategy of becoming a one-stop-shop for a family’s needs, coupled with its modern logistics and distribution systems, helped establish it as one of the two dominant supermarket chains in the country.3 Moran & Cato struggled to keep up, and by 1969 the Canberra Times was reporting that it was under threat of takeover due to “severe competition” from supermarkets. 4 Later that year, it was reported that the company had sold its stores to Permewan Wright Ltd – a chain that would itself cease to exist in the coming years. 5

Figure 6: Faraday and Lygon Streets, Carlton, Victoria, c.1958, University of Melbourne Archives, Papers of Jack Lockyer O’Brien 1950-1964, 1965.0004.00397.

Among the grocers featured in the Jack L. O’Brien collection, there is one that did survive as an independent operator to this day. King & Godfree on the corner of Lygon and Faraday St has been in continuous existence for 150 years (see Fig. 6). After starting life as a standard grocer’s, the owners sagely began to stock Kosher products in the inter-war years, when Carlton became a centre of Jewish life in Melbourne.6 In 1934, the Jewish Weekly News was lauding the store for its efforts to “satisfy all wants of their Jewish clients for the coming Passover holiday.”7 With the large-scale Italian migration of the 1950s, the store was purchased by Carlo Valmorbida, who again adapted it for a new clientele. Author Michael Harden, who released a book in 2022 titled King & Godfree: The Corner Grocer, credits Carlo Valmorbida with introducing Melbournians to the delights of Italian food, transforming the way that we eat in the process.8 Carlo’s descendants still run the store, and King & Godfree is an entrenched Melbourne institution. The reason it survived while others failed was that it did not seek to compete with the supermarkets, but reinvented itself to offer more specialist products that the diverse population of Carlton couldn’t get elsewhere.

Figure 7: Former grocery store in North Carlton with hand-painted advertising. Photo taken by the author, September 3, 2023.

Surveying the Jack L. O’Brien collection has made me look more closely at the neighbourhood where I spent my young adult life. I find myself noticing the hand-painted advertisements for Bushells Tea and McAlpin’s Flour fading into the exposed brick of old grocery stores, or the prominent signage for Moran & Cato high up on a parapet above Brunswick St. Then I think of little Michael Strong, trundling home with a bag of broken biscuits and a big grin on his dial.

Joshua Strong is a PhD candidate whose research in historical studies focuses on the relationship between the architect and the state in Stalin’s USSR.

References

  1. E-Melbourne – The City Past and Present, Produced and published by the School of Historical & Philosophical Studies, The University of Melbourne, July 2008. Accessed September 3, 2023. https://www.emelbourne.net.au/biogs/EM01450b.htm
  2. Self-service shops cut Moran’s profit (1955, November 26). The Argus (Melbourne, Vic.: 1848 – 1957), p. 20. Retrieved September 3, 2023, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article71782528.
  3. Coles – Our History webpage. Accessed September 3, 2023. https://www.coles.com.au/about/our-history
  4. Permewan offers $11.6m cash for Moran & Cato (1969, May 22). The Canberra Times (ACT: 1926 – 1995), p. 28. Retrieved September 3, 2023, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article131785828.
  5. Moran & Cato says yes (1969, June 11). The Canberra Times (ACT: 1926 – 1995), p. 25. Retrieved September 3, 2023, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article131789481.
  6. King & Godfree kicks off 150th Celebrations with Julian Busuttil Nishimura (2021, September 15). The Sydney Morning Herald. Retrieved September 3, 2023, from https://www.smh.com.au/goodfood/eating-out/king–godfree-kicks-off-150th-celebrations-with-julia-busuttil-nishimura-20210914-h1yktd.html.
  7. 50th Anniversary. (1934, February 23). The Jewish Weekly News (Melbourne, Vic: 1933 – 1935), p. 9. Retrieved September 3, 2023, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article262464598
  8. Interview with Michael Harden. (2022, December 7). Melbourne Food & Wine Festival website. Accessed September 3, 2023, from https://www.melbournefoodandwine.com.au/read-watch/latest-news/news/buy-the-book-king-godfree-the-corner-grocer-1332.

Margaret Kiddle and Us

As archivists we “discover” many unexpected things in the collections we process. It is rare to unexpectedly discover ourselves, though. In 2021-2022 as the Miegunyah Archivist working on the papers of prominent University of Melbourne figures, I did just that: records revealing my own brief acquaintance with University of Melbourne historian Margaret Kiddle.

Margaret Kiddle (1914-1958) was an historian and one of the early female academics at the University of Melbourne. In 1946 Kiddle became a tutor (later senior tutor) in the Department of History. She stayed there for the rest of her life, apart from a year (1952) spent document-hunting for Australian historical records in Britain[1] and another (1954) working as a research fellow at the Australian National University, Canberra. Her publications included Caroline Chisholm (1950), three books for children Moonbeam Stairs (1945), West of Sunset (1949) and The Candle (1950), and Men of Yesterday, A Social History of the Western District of Victoria 1834-1890.

 

Sepia photo of two women in period dress holding handbags in front of building.

Image: Margaret Kiddle (on right) with her sister Elizabeth outside Blenheim Palace during record hunting trip 1952. (2008.0047.00004. Elizabeth Bush Scrapbook)

 UMA holds five collections of Kiddle papers: 1964.0002; 1988.0162 (volumes from Kiddle’s library); 1992.0042; 1996.0039; 2008.0047, all of which were reprocessed in the course of the Miegunyah Project. This project, funded by the Miegunyah Fund, has improved the discoverability of over 30 prominent university figures.

A correspondence file in the Margaret Kiddle Collection originally concisely tiled “Philip”, proved on inspection to be an extensive series of letters between my father Philip Brown (1904-1996) and Margaret Kiddle.[2] As a fellow historian of the Western District, Victoria and the editor of the Clyde Company Papers and The Narrative of George Russell, my father shared with Kiddle an encyclopaedic knowledge of the families and properties significant in Western District white settlement.

Always a generous scholar, the letters show my father’s willingness to share his research and knowledge with Kiddle, particularly as she worked on her magnum opus, a “social history” of the Western District of Victoria. Their correspondence began in 1949 and continued to just before her untimely death in 1958, by which time “Miss Kiddle” had become “Dearest Margaret”. [3]

Letters reveal Kiddle stayed at our farm outside Geelong at least once. My older brother recalls an elegant russet haired lady with a beneficent smile, who greeted him with a hug and warmly indulged a small boy’s intense interest in her green Morris Oxford car.

Maybe she also took a shine to the youngest child, a sturdy little girl in gumboots, stumping across the paddocks – a me I recall only from photographs – as I tunelessly intoned my mosquito song which Dad transcribed (embellished I expect) in a letter to Kiddle:

“Skeeto, Skeeto aren’t you bad!…

And the Skeeto said –

“I bounce on your arm,

And I make a little hole,

And I suck your blood,

And I make an itchy bump,

And then I fly away…” [4]

Our father’s elegant script on the “Allanvale, Leopold, Phone 14” letterhead, interleaved with typescript bashed out on his trusty journalist’s Remington, evoke wisps of memory from my early childhood. They take me back to family lore that this was our family’s golden age, a period when Dad was able to be both a farmer and an historian before factors, inexplicable to a young child, moved us into the city.

Man and child on tractor in front of large tree behind fence.

Image: The writer and her father Philip Brown, Allanvale, Leopold

The “Philip” file also houses one letter from my mother, Jean Howatson Brown (1914-2003), a voice almost absent in the public record. “Jymsie” writes to Margaret that she is “going up to town” the next day to see “Separate Tables”, and, showing the interconnected circles of many Victorian families at that time, that she “…shall also be seeing my stepmother about the flat that may interest your sister.” [5] This would have been one of the spacious flats at “Denby Dale”, the Tudor-style apartment block in Glenferrie Road, Kooyong built in 1938, in which our widowed “Grannie” resided.

Sepia toned photo of a woman in blaxer staring directly at the camera.

Image: Margaret Kiddle, photograph by Jack Cato, 1946, University of Melbourne Archives, 1964.0002.00155

Margaret Kiddle’s death on 3 May 1958 from a lifelong congenital kidney disease cut short her work. Her completed manuscript, finished the week before she died and still untitled, was posthumously published. The editing and eventual publication of Men of Yesterday: A Social History of the Western District 1834-1890 by Melbourne University Press in July 1961 was stewarded by her colleagues, notably Professors John La Nauze and Max Crawford. Aware of her impending death Kiddle penned a letter a month before she died stating her wishes for the revision of her book and ending with the blacky humorous comment that “This book has been finished in dramatic circumstances – for publicity purposes cash in on them as much as you like…! [6] Kiddle willed the royalties from Men of Yesterday to the History School and The Margaret Kiddle Prize is awarded annually for the best final honours thesis in History.

Correspondence and extensive files of drafts and revisions show additional input from other historians, including Noel Butlin, Geoffrey Serle, Manning Clark, Russel Ward, anthropologist Bill Stanner, my father Philip Brown, who contributed to the biographical index and sourcing of illustrations, and many others, all of whom provided “critical comment and corrections”. Their work over the three years prior to publication does raise the question of what changes were made to Kiddle’s text after her death. [7]

It is not possible now to consider the history of the Victorian Western District without acknowledging the terrible price paid by Aboriginal inhabitants as the unceded lands were settled. And I can’t help but wonder how Kiddle and my father, two historians of similar age and background, would have treated this within their research areas now.

Primary source records were of key importance to both researchers, but pastoralists’ letters, diaries and station records hid much from posterity; the dominant narratives they read and edited were those of “advancement”, not dispossession. There was awareness by my father, but a view which from today’s perspective seems informed by a kind of historical determinism. In comments to Kiddle on her draft Chapter 6 “Morality” he noted that “Their impact on the balance of native life [was] not appreciated by the settlers” and “I think that we agree on the inevitability of what happened, and can both bear witness to the helpless unwillingness with which so many settlers saw it happen and contributed to the process.” [8]

Other historians were more overt in their embrace of the dominance of colonial history, the rationale appearing to be for some that Kiddle’s book was intended to be a “social history”. Advising on Chapter 1, John La Nauze commented to Kiddle, “I think you want some beaut quotation of a pioneer coming on the land – Mitchell or a pioneer settler – at the v. beginning…The whole point of the book is the white man in the land.” [9]

In addition to being a comprehensive research collection of primary sources, the Kiddle papers can provide insights into the historiography of the mid twentieth century, relationships between historians, the position of female academics, and the process of research, writing and editing.

And for me they have provided the unexpected personal pleasure of finding myself and my loved ones “in the records”.

Sarah Brown

Miegunyah Archivist (2022)

[1] Typescript “Diary Letters” (originals) by Margaret Kiddle contain detailed descriptions of the “Record hunting” trip, in England, Scotland, Ireland, and travelling in the continent and Scandinavia, often driving herself and her travelling companions, who included her sister Elizabeth Bush, in her Morris Minor car referred to as “Minor”. The UK leg included trying to locate the lost portrait of Caroline Chisholm in Ireland and researching families who had emigrated to the Western District. (2008.0047.00002)

[2] 1964.002.00016 Philip Brown. Passim. The “other half” of this correspondence i.e., Margaret Kiddle’s letters to Philip Brown are held at the Geelong Heritage Centre Archives https://archives.grlc.vic.gov.au/ GRS 2070 – P.L. Brown Manuscript Collection. The P.L. Brown Collection contains many additional records relating to Kiddle’s research and writing.

[3] 1964.0002.128. Original criticisms and notes by friends: MK, March 1957. Kiddle notes “Philip Brown’s comments on plan of book and written chapters. See also his voluminously informative letters in special file (devoted to him) bookcase shelves”

[4] 1964.0002.00016. Philip Brown: Philip Brown/MK, 27 September 1955

[5] 1964.0002.00127. Critical notes on chapters [Margaret Kiddle]: MK, 5 April 1958

[6] 1964.0002.00127. Critical notes on chapters [Margaret Kiddle]: MK, 5 April 1958

[7] 1964.0002.00126. Critical notes on chapters. Passim. See also extensive drafts

[8] 1964.0002.00128. Original criticisms and notes by friends: Philip Brown/MK, 8 June 1954

[9] 1964.0002.00126. Critical notes on chapters: JLN in response to Bill Stanner comments and MK comments, undated


Interview with Madeline Roycroft on the Éditions de l’Oiseau-Lyre Archive

Madeline Roycroft is working as a Research Assistant in the Louise Hanson-Dyer collection, which sits within our Rare Music collection. Madeline is also currently a Grainger Teaching Fellow, coordinates Context, a music research journal at the Melbourne Conservatorium of Music and has just submitted her PhD thesis on the reception of the Soviet composer Dmitri Shostakovich in twentieth-century France. Recently, I sat down with Madeline to learn more about her work in Archives and Special Collections.

What is the project you are currently working on in the Rare Music collection?

 I’m using the Éditions de l’Oiseau-Lyre Archive, housed in the Rare Music collection, to build a database on the professional network of Louise Hanson-Dyer. Hanson-Dyer was an Australian patron of the arts who established her own publishing press (Les Éditions de l’Oiseau-Lyre) in Paris in 1932. The label initially specialised in producing fine editions of early and baroque music that had never previously been published, but Hanson-Dyer also published the music of contemporary composers, and from 1938 she employed many musicians from around Europe to record the music she published.

The database I am working on documents not only who worked on each publication and when, but also the relationships between people who worked on each publication. For example, for a sound recording featuring three musicians, I have recorded collaborations between Person 1 and Person 2, Person 1 and Person 3, and Person 2 and Person 3, as well as relationships between Hanson-Dyer and each musician (as she engaged each of them to record on her label), and so on. The database at present has over 600 publications and roughly 2,200 relationships! The next step is to collaborate again with the Melbourne Data Analytics Platform (they helped us with the original set-up of the project) to turn this metadata into an interactive map of Hanson-Dyer’s professional network, which may be useful for researchers working across a variety of areas, such as twentieth-century music composition and publishing, patronage, women in the arts, early recordings, etc.

 

78 inch record in brown paper sleeve.
’78 rpm vinyl, Les Éditions de l’Oiseau-Lyre, Rare Music Collection

What would you like people to know about Louise Hanson-Dyer, that you’ve discovered in your time on this project?

Hanson-Dyer is sometimes viewed only as a patron of the arts, which does not account for the work she put into the operations of Les Éditions de l’Oiseau-Lyre. Hanson-Dyer was not only a source of funds for artists: she was a businesswoman and music publisher with a keen eye for talent and detail. She basically controlled everything, and engaged the best musicologists, performers, sound technicians, engravers, bookbinders and printers to assist with her publishing and recording endeavours. Hanson-Dyer also wanted her publications to serve a timeless aesthetic purpose as well as a musical one: the 12-volume Couperin set, for example, features a striking Art Deco cover design by Rose Adler; the Polyphonies du XIIIe siècle were published with covers made of fine Australian blackwood; while the labels of the 78s feature gold foil against Hanson-Dyer’s favourite shade of purple.

When you are not working at ASC, what other projects are you working on?

I have very recently submitted the project that has kept me busy for the last six years – my PhD thesis! I looked at the reception of the Soviet composer Dmitri Shostakovich in twentieth-century France, which involved translating and analysing hundreds of press sources that discussed Shostakovich’s music between 1930 and 2000. I found that the attitudes of French critics towards Shostakovich tended to evolve in line with the shifting relations between France and the Soviet Union, and also documented how his music was championed by the French Communist Party, particularly in the 1930s and ’40s but also at the time of the Soviet Union’s restructuring in 1989. While I await the examiner reports, I have been editing articles for the new issue of Context, the music research journal I coordinate at the MCM, as well as beginning a proposal for the book I hope to publish based on the material in my thesis.

What current musicians, composers and labels are you excited about in the Australian or international music scene?

This isn’t exactly current but I am excited to play oboe in the orchestra for Wagner’s Ring Cycle in Bendigo next year. It will be the first time that this cycle (of four operas) has been performed in regional Australia, so that’s something special for musical life in Australia in 2023.

Beyond the world of classical music, one of my favourite artists Stromae released a new album earlier this year (after a long hiatus) and I’m still obsessed with it. Stromae is a Belgian artist known mainly for rap and Europop, but the new album borrows instruments and rhythms from diverse musical traditions yet the lyrics cover profound and personal subjects – it’s both very moving and very cool. I will be in Europe during some of his tour in 2023 so I’m hoping I can see a live show.

About the Collection:

In 2013, the Monaco-based music publisher Éditions de l’Oiseau-Lyre (Lyrebird Press), established by Louise Hanson-Dyer in 1932, closed and its archive arrived at the University. It includes business records and correspondence, including letters from leading composers, artists and writers. There are also personal papers, Louise Hanson-Dyer’s memorabilia, her own library and some artworks. The archive features a “President’s Collection” (previously shelved together in Monaco) comprising one copy of almost every one of the Press’s print publications; a substantial collection of other music manuscript scores, many in the composer’s hand; and printed scores and performance parts. There are also 78 and 33 1/3 rpm audio recordings, publication proofs and press clippings. The Editions de l’Oiseau-Lyre archive promises significant new insights into one of the twentieth century’s most important music publishing houses and is an important resource for researchers. You can learn more about the collection here.

 

Chelsea Harris

Coordinator, Communications and Engagement

 


Who are these performers and why are they in costume? “Wolfie” to the rescue!

Problem solving was an incidental and unexpected benefit of using our new Wolfvision visualiser last week. Known affectionately as “Wolfie”, it allows objects from Archives and Special Collections to be viewed by students learning wholly online, or through blended learning. It also has great potential in assisting overseas or interstate researchers to view items in our collection on request, assisted by a staff member.

Seated man and woman dressed in theatrical costumes gaze directly at the camera in a sepia toned image.

Rosa Pinkerton and ?

A recent class on researching music in Australia using archival resources from the Rare Music collection included a mystery: an undated photograph of two young people in costume. Rosa Pinkerton’s signature was clear to read, but the name of the man to her left was not—Victor who? The photograph is undated, so was this from before or after Pinkerton finished studying at the Melbourne Conservatorium in 1923? Perhaps she was already in England and working for the Carl Rosa Opera company?

Photo of large machine with photo lying on book pillow surrounded by screens

Close up of signature

Signature magnified on the Wolfvision machine.

The Wolfvision machine includes a facility for impressive magnification which resolved Victor’s untidy pen strokes into his family name Baxter. And at high levels of magnification, enough of the photographic studio’s blind embossing could be seen to tell us that the image was taken in Melbourne. After that, the Melbourne Conservatorium of Music’s Prospectus for 1924, which records reliable details of the student concerts of the previous year, allowed us to come up with a working theory! Pinkerton and Baxter were on the program of a concert given in June 1923, comprising excerpts from four operas. Our two singers had the lead roles in Wagner’s Lohengrin. As their costumes are medieval in style—and other “Scenes from Opera” concerts were given in costume—it seems that the mystery is, most likely, solved!

Image from book with list of names and parts played in theatrical production

1924 Melbourne Conservatorium of Music Prospectus

 

Turns out it’s all in the name: wolves do have much better vision than humans!

Read more about the performance at:

“MUSIC.” The Australasian (Melbourne, Vic.: 1864 – 1946) 16 June 1923: 29. https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/140745524/11906324

 

Dr Jen Hill,

Curator, Music

Archives and Special Collections, Student and Scholarly Services

 

Images:

[Photographic portraits of Rosa Pinkerton] (The catalogue record has now been updated to include Victor’s name)

The University Conservatorium of MusicProspectus, 1924 (Carlton, 1924), p. 54.

 

 


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