The idea of a closed square is pleasant but an even better solution seems possible through the closing of further streets and the loosening-up of the building masses.

We have published this project in the last issue accompanied by the designer's report. In this issue we show a detailed site plan and wish to raise a few points for discussion on the planning aspect. We have stated previously that the scheme has great merit in many ways. However, obviously it is only in the preliminary planning stage and being an important part of the replanning of Auckland city it should receive the fullest criticism with a view to further improving the scheme. The following questions may stimulate further discussion:

The scheme provides for a new East-West Route across the city to link with the proposed Harbour Bridge and an alternative Main Outlet from the business area.

Cook Street is marked on the plan as the link to the new harbour bridge.

Can Cook Street be expected to serve this function any more efficiently than Wellesley Street, which is a subsidiary route across the ridge now? Cook Street is just as steep and just as dangerous for driving as Wellesley Street, if not more so. It is questionable what advantage could be gained by drawing a large amount of through-traffic into Cook Street in preference to Wellesley Street. Traffic on Cook Street, Vincent Street, and the new road sections circling the Civic Block (marked “new cross-city route” and “new main outlet”) meet at an awkward oblique angle. This could tend to make a danger spot unless one-way traffic only was permitted on the roads around the Civic Block. This is hardly feasible in the lay-out. The crossing of Wellesley Street, Albert Street, and Albert Street Extension is also particularly awkward. On the steep down-hill grade of Wellesley Street a driver would find it hard to turn into the new main outlet at the rear of the Government offices with its parking areas.

Should Cook Street develop under the scheme into a busy main connection, through-traffic to and from the proposed Harbour Bridge would have to mingle with theatre-goers, taxis and buses discharging passengers, and cars leaving and entering the ramps to the underground car park.

Similarly, there is a bad spot where Wakefield Street meets Queen Street at an oblique angle just opposite the new entrance to the inner square.

In any case, traffic from the lower end of Queen Street would reach the Harbour Bridge on direct routes remaining on flat ground and traffic from the Karangahape Road area and suburbs behind it would normally stay on the level. ridge until it reaches the bridge approaches, so that it may not be necessary nor desirable to draw through-traffic into the civic area.

The block as shown is crowded with public facilities and offices, and while there is space for long-period parking underground, there is little space for the parking of short-period business visitors and evening crowds. (With all three halls occupied at the same time—and this is not unlikely to happen every Saturday night—there will be 8,000 visitors plus a large number of actors, musicians, stage-hands, etc.)

Circulation becomes a foremast consideration under those circumstances even without the added difficulty of through-traffic.

In the previous issue appeared some notes on the type of material used and the method of its application to produce a rendered surface that is less liable to cracking and crazing than is the finish generally applied in this country. This article deals with the reasons for the success of the procedure.

This type of failure has its origin in moisture movement or the change of volume which cement products undergo as their moisture content changes. Cement renderings must be applied in the wet state, and as they dry out shrinkage stresses are set up. These are partly tensile stresses within the material itself and tend to form cracks, and partly shear stresses between the rendering and its backing which is frequently rigid. These latter stresses therefore tend to cause failure by loss of adhesion.

When a rendering has cracked, water running down the wall is quickly drawn into the cracks by capillary action. Thus the material behind the rendering may become very wet and the trapped water cannot escape readily if the plaster is strong and impervious. Wet walls due to this cause are common and are very difficult to deal with effectively.

Again, when water gets behind a rendering as described above, it frequently leaches soluble salts from the brick-work or whatever lies behind and, when drying eventually does take place, these salts are brought out as a disfiguring efflorescence, or worse still, sulphates are brought out into contact with the cement mortar, producing sulpho-aluminate expansion and consequent serious failure.

Another, trouble is caused by differential moisture movement. When a rendering dries on the surface and thus shrinks slightly while the back remains wet for a prolonged period, stresses are set up which tend to vanse the surface to become concave. The result may be failure by loss of adhesion.

If, however, a weak and open-textured rendering such as the 1:1:6 mix has been used, water is absorbed into the wall evenly over the whole surface and can evaporate comparatively quickly. It has been found more waterproof than the stronger and denser types.

These renderings do not crack as badly as the strong ones. Stresses built up as a result of shrinkage or movement in the building itself are quickly relieved by the formation of minute hair cracks all over the surface. These cracks do not allow entry of water any more readily than does the more or less porous surface itself. The partial relief of stresses in weak renderings by “creep” with the prevention of at least some cracking is described below.

Crazing is another form of failure and consists of a disfiguring network of fine surface cracks. These may not be very deep, but some frequently develop into shrinkage cracks. Crazing arises from the action of the carbon dioxide of the atmosphere forming a skin which shrinks as it is formed.

When a cement rendering is finished by steel trowelling it is particularly liable to craze due to the thin layer of cement that is brought to the surface. This can be obviated by the use of the weak mixes mentioned in the previous article, and by scraping the surface to remove the rich cement layer.

The phenomenon of “creep” is important, and involves the plastic flow of materials under sustained stress. Two points about creep in concrete are important:—

The first point indicates that shrinkage stresses can be relieved by creep more readily in weak than in strong mixes.

The second point explains why rendering in wet weather tends to be less successful than in dry weather. Experiments have shown that rendered panels kept damp for ten days cracked badly compared with panels dried naturally in the sun.

The weak rendering has the advantage of weathering uniformly over the surface, instead of showing the dirty streaks and runs so common on the smooth impermeable surfaces of strong renderings. Buildings thus retain a good appearance longer.

A common sight is the development of irregularities in colour soon after the plasterer has finished. It is characteristic of work finished with a wood float that the surface darkens at different rates from one area to another. This is due to differences in texture, some parts of the surface being more porous and absorbent than others. Buildings finished in this way soon look shabby.

Rough textured surfaces tend to cause water to drip down the wall rather than to run down in an unbroken film. The amount that does run down is reduced by absorption into the rendering as already described. Thus with these surfaces there is less tendency for the plaster to fail more seriously near the bottom than at the top of a wall—a fairly common experience with strong, dense renderings. The roughcast wall, a weaker mix merely thrown on, is usually the most satisfactory.

the shape of things around us and to suggest curative treatment for a sickly condition that has been too long neglected.

The first step towards health is an exact diagnosis of the trouble. Mr. Wadman presents a clear history of the case from our infancy till to-day. He finds the pulse feeble but showing signs of improvement and feels that there is still hope. The malaise results from complicated causes, including infections which involve architecture, furniture, pottery, garden ornaments, postage stamps, teacups—and cats. The prescription is made up of suitable doses of common sense, education, wise freedom, Plischke, Molly Macalister, Olive Jones, and other good designers. The dose is spiced with some well-chosen photographs and some delightful satirical drawings by Geoffrey Nees.

Of course, the whole problem cannot be fully covered in a dozen pages and will not fulfil its purpose without the discussion it is bound to stimulate and the action which must follow. After reading the article, it struck me, for instance, that there seems to be a word lacking in our language to express that quality of good design that we call “Simplicity.” “Simplicity” suggests something easily achieved—that elaboration requires more effort and implies some sort of superiority. Why do stamp designers generally, for instance, not treat the job in the simplest and most obvious manner—a design containing approximate elements of lettering and symbolism that will sit comfortably, reasonably, and attractively in a small rectangle? Why do they immediately create trouble by introducing an unnecessary border that will make the design still smaller, by subdividing the rectangle into awkward areas that have no relation to the given shape and that leave impossible shapes in the background? Why will they choose degenerate lettering that is practically illegible and use realistic pictorial matter that not only creates almost insuperable difficulties for the engraver, but is entirely unsuitable to the scale and purpose of the stamp? The answer is, I think, that it is still greater effort to achieve what we call “Simplicity.” The problem is the same as expressing an idea verbally with clarity and brevity—but it isn't simple!

In the interests of good design and just proportion, I have lingered perhaps too long over the first section of the book, but I do feel that it is a vitally important one and that it will be particularly interesting to those who read this review. Six artists are featured and given a rare opportunity to speak of themselves, their work, and their ideals. Russell Clark gives a thoughtful and concise account of his training and his beliefs. He interprets “Technical Skill” as something as important to Matisse as to the President of the Royal Academy. A. J. C. Fisher discusses Art as an analysis of visual impressions and as a statement of the emotional reactions resulting from visual observation. He believes that vanity and careerism spell danger and that the artist works best in obscurity. Cedric Savage, Vida Steinert, and George Woods are also presented as artist-authors.

R. J. Waghorn writes on the Travelling Scholarship in Art, Alec McDowell, Maenad, and James Caffin on the Theatre in Auckland, Wellington, and Christchurch respectively, and Stanhope Andrews on “Shadow Catching,” some thoughts on Documentary Films in New Zealand. There is a section of verse chosen by A. R. D. Fairburn.

As a production, the book compares favourably with many overseas publications. It is no easy matter to bring into unity reproductions in colour, half-tone, and line, together with photographs and prints from wood and lino blocks, particularly when different papers are necessary to bring out the best qualities of each. It must be remembered, too, that many of the half-tones are from paintings that were not only never intended for reproduction but were designed to possess that personal quality peculiar to an original that cannot be reproduced.