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Volume 5, Number 2 May–June 1953.
Design Review is published bi-monthly by the Architectural Centre Inc., Wellington, and produced voluntarily by a group of people interested in good design. It is not produced for profit, and, because of the aim of maintaining a high standard of illustration and printing, the publishers have difficulty in meeting production costs. If you are interested in furthering the improvement of design in New Zealand you can assist by introducing new subscribers.
The Editors will always be pleased to receive suggestions for the improvement of Design Review. Letters and contributions should be addressed to the Editor, Design Review, P.O. Box 2460, Wellington, C.1, accompanied by a stamped addressed envelope. If writing under a pen-name, the writer must enclose his name and address.
Advertisers are reminded that the readers of Design Review are interested in well-made and well-designed products of all kinds. Rates for advertising may be obtained on application to the Advertising Manager, Design Review, P.O. Box 6402, Wellington, C.1, or from accredited Advertising Agents. Design Review is printed by The Garratt Printing Co. Ltd., Wellington. Blocks by Thompson Photo Engravers Ltd., Wellington.
A subscription is a good way of getting your copies of Design Review regularly on publication. The subscription is 10/- for six issues post free for one year or £1 for twelve issues post free for two years, and should be sent to Design Review, P.O. Box 6402, Wellington, C.1.
I hope you will read
This year the Royal Institute of British Architects awarded its Gold Medal to Le Corbusier, widely recognised as the greatest living architect. This recognition was largely prompted by the recent completion of his greatest work—Unite d'Habitation in Marseilles. This year the New Zealand Institute of Architects also awarded its Gold Medal—the first for six years. The building is St. Joseph's Orphanage at Upper Hutt. This building or group of buildings has a quality of design that will please the more conservative members of the architectural profession and that large body of public opinion which finds satisfaction in the “cosy cottage” with its thatched roof. The last award in 1947 was for the Dixon Street Flats, and it is upon buildings of this type that I feel the Institute should bestow its honours. Public recognition of genuine contemporary work is hardly furthered by judging a building in the manner of English country domestic at the turn of the century, as the best of the year.
Awards may and may not have significance. It depends on the judging. But it is interesting to recall that the 1952 Sulman Prize for the best Australian house of the year was won by Harry Seidler for an outstanding house of uncompromising design. Generally house design in Australia is not at the level it has reached in New Zealand, and public
Three of the most interesting and better known shops selling well designed contemporary furnishings and furniture that New Zealand has to offer are Brenner Associates, John Crichton and Jon Jansen, all in Auckland. Last month saw the opening in Wellington of its first exciting shop devoted to well designed articles for modern homes. As a Wellingtonian I was much satisfied by this, for I had previously thought it necessary to make a pilgrimage to Auckland. This little shop, Stocktons, run by Harry Seresin and John Bidwell, is near to Roy Parsons, surely one of New Zealand's best bookshops. This already interesting and narrow little street gains new interest and vitality. At the opening were some superb glassware from Europe, pottery from Denmark, beautiful English fabrics from Heals, wallpapers, furniture, lamps and many other well designed objects from overseas as well as New Zealand. I saw nothing I would not like in my own home except some heavy Swedish glassware with unnecessary decoration. Let us hope Wellington will show that there was need for this shop, for otherwise it will have to lower its standards or close. But I am sure there is a very big demand and that it will do well. Its gay interior was designed by Brenner Associates of Auckland.
I must congratulate and commend the Wellington City Council for the purchase of the Paramount Theatre. From the long-term view its purchase may be considered a pity since the building of the “Small Theatre” as part of the ultimate Civic Centre will be delayed for many years more. But in the meantime here is a good theatre for all the excellent people who work for amateur drama in Wellington.
My wrath had previously been aroused by the inadequacy of the present Concert Chamber and its flagrant misuse over the past years, and which oddly enough has aroused little if any protest. During the whole of June, the best month of the year for concerts and performances, the Concert Chamber is mass booked for motor-car registrations.
Surely the greatest piece of foolishness for a long time was the reply reported to have been made by the Assistant Commissioner of Works to a representation from Paremata residents concerning the new highway diversion through the back of the settlement. The residents, most reasonably and with encouraging foresight, requested that it be declared a non-access motorway. The reply was a definite “No”—frontages and access were to be allowed, for it was considered that if houses fronted on to the highway, with people entering and leaving, cars parked and pedestrians walking along the road, passing motorists would take more care, slow down and so make the road safer! Can you beat this?
Who would not agree that a town should be planned before it is built or half built, rather than after it has grown into such a mess that something drastic must be done. Many New Zealand towns are at present growing up as others have done in the past, from little more than a nucleus of one or two houses, into flourishing settlements with serious development problems—problems such as scattered and unco-ordinated subdivisions, costly sewerage and water supply, roading and footpaths, the provision of parks and public buildings, parking problems, industries springing up among houses, ribbon development along the main road approaches, and so on.
One such town is Ruawai, near Dargaville, on a rich dairy flat now coming into full production. Approaching from the north, the introduction after a few scattered houses is the District High School. After a right angle turn several scattered houses on both sides of the highway, a few hundred yards further on a large dairy factory or milk treatment plant under construction, some houses round it, then more houses along the main road, a garage and a shop or two, a right angle turn revealing a cinema, several more shops and garages scattered along both sides, some open country, some more scattered houses for a few hundred yards, then a dairy factory with a dozen or more houses. And so it goes on. What sort of a town is this? Hardly a town, at all yet. But in a few years it will be as big a mess as Huntly, Putaruru or Otaki. The residents need a car or bicycle to go to the shops and from one shop to another and with danger of being knocked down on the way or splashed by passing trucks and cars. A school bus is needed from one end of the town to the school.
There are many other towns following the same pattern, and always strung along the main highway. Now whose responsibility is it to look ahead and plan? The County Council, composed of cock-sure farmers revelling in butter-fat? Perhaps it's theirs, but really they couldn't care less. The Government? Who else other than a Regional Planning Authority? But who in the Government has the responsibility to watch for these problems? And there are no Regional Planning Authorities. Here is something that needs to be tackled, for there should be enough examples of uncontrolled town growth—enough Huntlys, Putarurus and Otakis without waiting for more.
The Architectural Centre's new gallery opens this month with an exhibition of work by various artists within the Centre. It is intended to make it available for exhibitions of painting, sculpture, pottery, furniture and fabrics from all over New Zealand. A special feature will be the sponsoring of lesser known artists of special promise and ability, but the gallery will be open to other individuals or groups who wish to exhibit. A special feature will be an Annual Exhibition of the most outstanding work in New Zealand, much of which would otherwise not be shown. There has been an urgent need for such a gallery in Wellington, and many of the more experimental and original artists have had little opportunity for exhibiting their work before. The intention is to show works of high quality, and for the present separate exhibitions will be arranged, but later it is hoped to extend to a permanent collection of paintings for sale. In carrying a stock of works by many artists the public will then have a choice. The design and decoration of the gallery has been carried out by the Architectural Centre with the generous contributions of "Resene" paint from Stipplecote Products Ltd., Wellington, and "Pinex" softboard from W. H. Long & Co. Ltd.
Individuals or groups who wish to use the gallery for exhibitions or meetings should write for particulars to The Secretary, The Architectural Centre Inc., P.O. Box 2460, Wellington, C.1.
Members of the Architectural Centre Inc. Council for 1953 are as follows:
The Architectural Centre, Inc. - - - - Wellington
This building is designed to house suitably all the group activities of a neighbourhood. It expresses the belief that life cannot be divided into the secular and the religious. It provides a setting where community life can develop, and it declares that true fellowship among men is best realised, perhaps only realised, when its central motif is a spiritual one. So this is not a church where other activities are allowed in the week, nor a community hall in which church services are held on Sundays, it has been planned rather as a centre where people can gather to play, think and talk, enjoy the arts, learn and worship together.
The idea may be sound, but to translate it, first into a building, then into a human programme, is not simple. It means not merely enough floor-space but great adaptability, for no one wants to feel they are holding a dance in a kindergarten, or playing table tennis in church. Each activity has to be considered, rival claims balanced and a mood created suitable for each new occasion.
For instance, young children meet in the morning; their room is built to the morning sun. It can be shut off from the rest of the hall by a sliding wall and opened on to an out-door play-space at the back. All the afternoon, the sun comes in along the western side, keeping the hall light and warm for after-school clubs. When it is too brilliant, or at night when so much glass might be bleak and uninviting, there are full-length yellow curtains to draw. The photograph above is a close-up of the youngsters in a morning play-centre group. Plate 4 shows the same corner as seen from the stage at the opposite end of the hall; the sliding wall is in three panels and in this view one of them is seen still in position.
The plain cross embossed on the central panel of the outside wall fronting the road (plate 2) proclaims the initial purpose of the building, and in plate 3 the main hall is shown ready for worship. Arranged in this way the room has a special mood in keeping with meditation and praise. When the sliding wall is in place it encloses the seating space in an area which has greater width than depth, giving a generous open-armed effect that brings everyone, so to speak, into the family. The side walls are obscured glass (or closed yellow curtains) and the stage surrounds and curtains are turquoise, except for the high white wall at the back of the stage recess. On this tall slab is hung the ancient Christian symbol: the Greek letters for Christ, together with alpha and omega, the first and the last. This chancel, cross-lighted by the full-length windows down each side, is open only for church services and completely changes the focus of the room. It gives, as it were, an outward and upward direction, and there is a suggestion of the sublime in the somewhat austere lines of the Communion Table and the Symbol. The blue-green chairs add an element of luxury not out of place in a sanctuary.
The next photograph (plate 5) shows the room arranged for dancing. The wall slides away to give double length to the room, the pulpit is moved in beside the Table and the turquoise drapes closed to conceal the alcove, the chairs are re-arranged and the lighting adjusted to be either white and direct from the cones set in the ceiling, or, for a more intimate mood, reflected from the wall-lights on the columns, repeating the soft apricot colour of the ceiling.
Close off the whole stage by drawing the front curtains, put down three mats and play indoor bowls, or five tables and play table tennis, using all the lights together for clarity and cheerfulness. Open the trap-door into the basement store (right foreground of plate 5) and bring up the sections to build out the stage another four feet right across the room, and you have a stage 18ft. by 10ft. in ten minutes. It is easy to assemble and has stood the weighty test of a Maori haka. Pull out a screen, assemble all the chairs, and you have a cinema seating two hundred and fifty. To the left of the camera in plate 5 is a fully-equipped kitchen and canteen which can be hidden by pulling down the slide, or opened for serving club nights or a full-sized wedding breakfast.
The entrance hall is downstairs on the lower side. In the plan it is marked “lobby” but it is large enough to deserve the term “crush-hall”. The main entry is through a clear-glass four-panel door; warm colours and bright lights make it an inviting foyer. It leads to the stairs on the right hand, and on the
So provision is made for small groups and large crowds; the hall can be intimate or spacious; by use of hangings and lights it can take on an atmosphere that is cheerful, or romantic, or devotional. It caters for mind and heart and the inner man. It becomes an instrument rather than a building, an instrument specially designed for bringing together all kinds of people in activity, fellowship and praise.
Members of the Methodist Church began the movement to build this Centre. With a history of social welfare work behind their church, they saw the need for an all-purpose building for the district, and the
Materials Used:
Central Heating and Stage Lighting—Parsons and Morgan.
Chairs—Hutt Valley Electro Plating Works.
Glass—Auld and Gleeson Ltd.
Curtains—Dominion Dyers Ltd.
Builder—E. R. Glass, Ltd.
Cabinetmaker (Pulpit, Font, Table)—Hugh P. Wallace.
“Immediately upon entering this house,” the owner writes, “you become aware that it is not designed on conventional lines …”
We agree, but what interests us about it is the degree to which it departs from the normal within the conventions of standard building practice. Its siting and internal arrangement show how much can be done with these normal building methods on an ordinary flat section whose only features before hand were some trees at each end boundary.
“Our particular requirements,” continues the owner, “were that the house should be convenient enough to enable us both to continue working, that the layout should provide the maximum sunshine and privacy and the benefits of such aspect as the flat section would provide, and finally, that the limit of about 1000 square feet which our budget allowed would not create the cramped feeling generally associated with houses of this size. We drew several rough sketches, formulated a number of ideas, and these in turn convinced us that we would have to have them co-ordinated by an architect to get the kind of home we wanted. Now, after two years of living and working in this house, we find it most adaptable and fully up to our expectations.
From the plan it will be seen that the kitchen faces the street over the equivalent of the ‘back garden’. Ahead, as you enter, is the living room which looks toward the rear of the section, in this case the main lawn and flower garden. Facing west, this room has floor to ceiling windows and a glazed door leading to the outdoors. A wide seat has been built against the house outside these windows extending the living-room further toward the terrace.
“One end of the living-room is divided off for dining by the free standing fireplace and chimney, linked only to the interior wall by a door height fitting. This partial division creating a greater sense of space than the actual dimensions would suggest. A painted alcove on the dining-room side of the fitting is used for china and during meals serves as a buffet; on the other side are china and drink cupboards, a radio and gramophone.
“The kitchen is of the corridor type, and since we believed it would be cheaper and more convenient for us if we dispensed altogether with the conventional laundry, we added a washing machine and a large porcelain sink to the usual kitchen equipment. Above the windows are storage cupboards for preserves, while an open dresser over a wide counter means that china in everyday use is within easy reach.
Off the kitchen, but separated from it, is a small workroom. This also serves as an informal mealroom, children's playroom, even, occasionally, a bedroom. This room has proved invaluable.
“Each of the bedrooms has twin built-in wardrobes, those in the second room acting as insulation between it and the bathroom. In common with the rest of the house, all windows in the bedrooms are fixed, ventilation being provided by means of adjustable glass louvres.”
Roofing, Glass, Hardware and Door Furniture, Paint, Plywood—Smith and Smith Ltd.
Timber—Brownlees Ltd.
Cooper Louvres—C. and A. Odlin Ltd.
Moreo Light Fittings, Electroway Linen Cupboard Heater—N.Z. Lamps Ltd.
Floor and Bench Lino.—D.I.C. Ltd.
Jackson Electric Store—Chas. Begg Ltd.
Builder—John Walker.
The living-room and main bedroom face out on to the terrace and the main garden. Use is made of the high floor level to form a seat around the terrace.
The rear of the house can be just as pleasant as the front. A tidy back door and kitchen garden are part of the planning of a house today. No longer the messy backyard of the Victorian era hidden away from the inquisitive eyes but an open yet sheltered space for the children to play in.
There is no wall between the living and dining space except for a low screen linking the fireplace and kitchen wall. In leaving a space between the screen and the ceiling and allowing the windows to continue along the front of the house, the architect has created a feeling of space in an otherwise small area. The living and dining areas are still separated but can at parties be used together as one space.
This map shows our ploughable land. The shaded areas are all that we have to grow our fruit and grain upon. But our population increases and each year more and more land goes under in buildings and roads. Yet land remains our wealth and our security.
Is it to become a wasting asset?
The house from the main garden in its secluded setting.
Photo: National Publicity Studios.
In commenting upon the fact that the population of the world is increasing at the rate of over 20 millions a year, Sir Roy Price, High Commissioner for the United Kingdom, pointed out in a recent address that every day there were 60,000 more mouths to be fed.
That is a lot of mouths—about as many as there are in Hamilton and Wanganui combined. So that in every one of our 5-day 40-hour working weeks something equivalent in population to another Auckland comes into existence. And in a little over a month—a month, mind you—the population of the world has increased by two millions—the population of New Zealand.
Arresting figures, aren't’ they? But consider the High Commissioner's further comment that even before the war three-quarters of the world's people were underfed. Since then there has been a further deterioration because, while the population has increased by 12 per cent., food production has increased by only 9 per cent. As Sir Roy Price said, this gives us no reason to comfort ourselves but it does give striking emphasis to the important fact that the world economic outlook favours the food-producing countries.
For us in New Zealand this should be an inspiration. It certainly is a challenge. But can it shake our full-bellied complacency? We don't seem to be aware of the tens of thousands—even hundreds of millions of hungry eyes looking outwards from Asia where the difference between life and death can often be measured in a few grains of rice—where the failure of a crop means certain death for thousands. In face of these conditions can two million New Zealanders hold this favoured country indefinitely? The preponderance of well informed overseas opinions says “No!” What do New Zealanders think about it?
Of course most of us never think about it at all. But there are a few who get a creepy feeling in the back when they hear comparisons between the standards of living here and elsewhere in the world. Even the steep rise in recent years in the population of our own country could easily result, in time, in reduced standards for all of us. Dr. K. B. Cumberland, Professor of Geography at Auckland, gave point to this in a broadcast marking the attainment of our second million in 1952 when he said that at present rates of growth it may take only 25 to 30 years to add another million to our population. We topped the first million in 1908, after 70 years. The second million followed in 44 years and now we are to have a million more mouths to feed by 1980?
Dr. Cumberland went on to say that not only is New Zealand's population growing faster than ever before—“it's growing faster even than India's or China”. It has grown by a quarter of a million in the last seven years. Growth is now at the rate of 44,000 every year, nearly 1000 a week. If it continues to grow at this rate it won't be much more than twenty years—unless there's rapidly expanded production—before we eat in this country all we grow. Unless production increases as fast as population—and it's not doing that—we'll soon have no exports. No exports, no imports. What are the prospects? What do you think? Where's that new car, those dress materials, that bottle of whisky, that new dinner service—where are they to come from if we've not got butter, cheese and meat surplus to our domestic needs?”
That's quite a startling statement. Yet it doesn't seem to have drawn much interest. Certainly not as much as the latest news about Dalray. Let's consider it a moment. If proportionately our population is growing faster than that of India or China—and it is—then we shall need to adjust our thinking about the eugenics of those two countries. For our assumptions about the effects of the general acceptance of birth control apparently do not hold water. Our own experience has shown that an improved knowledge about health with a lower infant mortality rate and a much longer life span can counterbalance a more general practice of birth control. And what is more, the idea that it is the poor that have the children has been falsified by the fact that New Zealand, with the highest average standard of living, has one of the highest rates of population increase. It's on the cards, therefore, that when the Chinese and Hindus cotton on to the idea of birth control and can provide higher health and living standards their population growth may be even higher. This has already happened in Russia. In Britain the population is increasing with the greater spread of the benefits of the welfare state. And closer to home the Maori race, which doubled its numbers in 50 years, has speeded up its rate of growth still further following upon health and social security benefits.
What we do about this in the next 20 to 30 years is not just of domestic concern. It is part of a world wide problem. To those who give it any thought it is a frightening prospect—not so much because of the difficulties of the problem itself but because every one from the Government down behaves as though the problem didn't exist. But for the planner, or for anyone who likes to look ahead in a constructive way, it is highly stimulating. For New Zealand suddenly emerges as one of the most important countries in the world. For this is an age when food is the most sought-after commodity. The Industrial Revolution laid emphasis on the coexistence of iron ore and coal. The motor age added oil and rubber. Food as a commodity was only incidental. But today the production of industry is so great that it is becoming an embarrassment. An economy like that of the U.S.A., when geared to war, can regard peace as an even greater danger. For the difference between the demands of war and peace can mean wholesale unemployment and all the other evils of deflation. A recent statement that all the cars, trucks and tractors in this country could be replaced with new models in fifteen working days gives some idea of the immensity of production in the motor industry of the U.S.A. But an industry geared to such a high pitch as this is very vulnerable. We can go without ears and refrigerators but everyone must have food. And New Zealand produces more food per capita than any other country in the world.
This is not to say that our primary industries are not vulnerable. They are. Take butter as an example.
Continued on page 45)
These two pages have been devoted to showing a selection of pottery and light fittings available in New Zealand at the moment. Some have been designed or made in New Zealand, and we hope there will come a time when this page can be filled with only those.
The photographs on this page are by Tony Pausma and those on the opposite page are by Olaf John.
1. With a shade of off-white parchment, slender wooden stand and metal base, this well-designed table lamp can be bought at Stocktons, Woodward Street and the British General Electric Company in Lower Taranaki Street, Wellington. Price £7/15/6.
2. This table lamp is functional in form and is cheerful decoration. The metal stand, light yellow in colour, supports a deep red anodised aluminium shade which may be turned in different directions. It is on sale at Furniture Fashions in Willis Street, Wellington, and costs £4/19/6.
Although we give considerable thought to the adequate lighting of rooms in the daytime we often put up with poor lighting in these same rooms at night.
It is possible to arrange more efficient electric lighting through a careful placing of lights in addition to or in place of the central hanging light. These may be standing lights, table lamps or wall lights. A light fitting in the right position for work in the Kitchen, in the Bedroom for seeing clearly in the mirror, or, in the living areas for reading and writing, should be a normal feature of our homes, yet it so rarely is. Light fittings of good design are appearing in our shops, and more imagination is being shown in the texture of shades, so it is possible now to have lights which are efficient and decorative.
These photographs show only a few of the adaptable light fittings which are designed for a variety of needs.
3. The dull black metal stand is about four feet high, the wide shallow anodised aluminium shade is red above and off-white inside with a copper reflector over the bulb. The shade is available in a variety of colours. Price £11/17/6 at Furniture Fashions in Willis Street, and Stocktons, Woodward Street, Wellington.
4. Brenner Associates in Dominion Road, Auckland, have these flexible “gooseneck” wall fittings on sale. The chromium flex is eleven inches long and supports the anodised aluminium shade which is available in a variety of colours. Price £3 and £3/1/6. Also at Stocktons, Woodward Street, Wellington.
5. Another type of wall light is this decorative fitting also on sale at the British General Electric Company. The supporting arms are of brass coloured metal, the shades of stiff white muslin spotted in red. Price £3/16/6.
6. This light fitting of pale grey anodised aluminium is designed to screw to a wall through a bracket hidden by the circular base. The shade may be turned in different directions. Price £4/9/6 at the British General Electric Company.
John Drawbridge is an artist in his own right as well as being an art-adviser employed by the Wellington Education Board. He is young, enthusiastic and sincere. Born in Wellington in 1930, he was educated at Karori School and Wellington College, going from there to the Teachers' Training College. A third year at Dunedin completed his training as an art specialist, and he now travels around the primary schools in the Wellington Education Board area in this capacity. This means a great deal of moving about in which John sees much of the country and meets many people. He finds teachers helpful and co-operative, which simply shows that he has the art of getting along well with people. This we can well believe after the time spent with him talking about his own art and his work in schools.
Educational Work: He was enthusiastic and animated as he talked about the work with school children. The peculiar circumstance of his visiting so many schools and dealing with children of different ages and periods of development, gives him a better idea of a child's development from infancy to maturity than is available to the average teacher. A teacher may take children approximating to the same age year after year and thereby fail to get the same overall view as John, of the development of a child's art work.
Apart from showing the normal development of a child, art work is a useful therapy for the maladjusted child, and doesn't it come out plainly! John finds that the best abstract pattern in children's work comes from exciting emotional experiences. Thus you can, for example, get a child worked up about an exciting fight with an octopus under the sea, and the resulting art work will be a good and exciting abstract pattern. Here we have, if I may be allowed to moralise for a moment, the explanation and justification of much modern abstract and semi-abstract art. All art is the invention and making of a symbol that will translate to a spectator the same emotional excitement that spurred the artist to work in the first place. Possibly the lack of understanding of most contemporary art arises from a loss of that ability, noticeably present in the child, to remove our emotions from a dormant state to one of excitement. In the same way, John finds that children seem to want adult criticism and approval of their work, but that adults too often try to adjust a child's way of seeing to theirs.
Art Training: Apart from the training already mentioned,
John has never held a one-man show of his work, but it has been exhibited, two or three pictures at a time in the main centres of New Zealand. He is not very anxious to exhibit to the public; he feels that for the time being he just wants to paint. He senses a dangerous influence from the public's reactions and their expressions of opinion; that they like this and don't like that. This, he considers, might tend to limit his work and confine it within bounds, whereas at present he wants to try everything and find his own way. He realises that an artist cannot work for himself alone and that it is difficult to continue without hearing what people have to say. However, for the moment he prefers to show his works to friends and discuss them, rather than to find what the public has to say at an art exhibition. Sometimes he wishes he had the audacity and boldness of his schoolchildren, who will tackle the wall of a room with crayon and paint without a moment's hesitation.
His Own Work:
After seeing a considerable body of
The texture of a painting has great importance and fascination for him. Some of the most interesting are monotypes, in which paint is applied to glass and transferred by pressing on to wet paper. His interest in texture is again apparent in the wide and novel array of media that he uses—greasy crayon, conté, gouache, litho, pen, brush and knife. Most interesting results have been derived from the use of greasy crayon in which form was defined and developed by removal of the crayon with a razor blade.
Up to the present at any rate, his best and most interesting work consists of rapid spontaneous studies. Those works which take time to complete are well below the standard of his swiftly executed pictures. There is an almost explosive movement in his best work, as though the picture is bursting from a central point. This is not perhaps clear from these reproductions, but we had to choose ones that would reduce well to half-tone. Something of this effect may however be seen in the picture of a clown.
I will not finish with the trite dictum that we shall see more of
The Clown
gouache
Seated girl
ink
Two boys
ink and wash
Nude
pencil and wash
The inroads of margarine into our market in Great Britain should make us think. Wool, too, is always under threat from synthetic materials. It is only the war clouds of the past few years that brought down the golden rain on the backs of our woolly sheep. But take meat. So long as our most important market is Great Britain we are constantly in danger from the competition of other countries such as the Argentine who have the advantage of being closer.
All this is true, but it does not alter the fact that in a world that is getting more and more hungry we can produce infinitely more food than we need ourselves. If the world doesn't want this food we can grow something else—or can we? Surely this is the question. What can we produce in New Zealand? Do we know? In a vague sort of way—yes! But there has never been a systematic study of resources. We need this urgently now—a sort of stock-taking. How otherwise can we have any clear idea as to what we can produce and where we can produce it? How can we have any real clue as to what the next million will be doing in 1980? Will they be producing for export or will they be taking in one another's washing, while we continue to import wheat, protatoes, cheese and canned vegetables, fruit, fish and the rest?
Will our towns continue to spread as Eric Linklater forecast in his recent book, “A Year in Space”, … “Consuming the fat fields, gnawing at pasture, devouring national wealth …” “if New Zealand's population grows from something less than 2,000,000 to rather more than 5,000,000, as many New Zealanders think it should, and all the new arrivals are housed as lavishly as the Gisbornians and Aucklanders, the aspect of the country will be most lamentaly changed, the mountains will remain, the tall hills and great alps will survive humanity, but instead of wide green pastures and enormous flocks, prodigious herds, there will be cast archipelagos of bungalow roofs divided at right angles by navigable channels for purely urban traffic.”
Is this such a tall story? Even at present, we are told, the growth of New Zealand's population is at the rate of 1000 a week. So that in a little over every month there is a new population equivalent to that of Thames or Stratford or Dannevirke and in less than a month to that of
So you see we're back again to the same question, the answer to which depends almost entirely upon what we do now. We can make the next thirty years a period of high adventure, positive, constructive, exciting. It is a great opportunity. Shall we take it or shall we drift on dully, without objective, from crisis to crisis, constantly surprised at the results of our own mistakes and lack of foresight. If we do, the increased export of one commodity is certain—our native brains and initiative.
The solution so frequently advocated—longer hours, more work—is not enough. It is in fact no solution, and moreover no stimulation. And stimulus is what we so badly need. The stimulus to interest people of imagination and courage—to make the scientists and the specialists in the field of development of resources feel that they are wanted—the geologists, soil scientists, the specialists in the study of climate, pasture, trees; the geographers, economists and sociologists. Theirs is the first job—to find the facts, to tell us what our resources really are. It is only in the light of this knowledge that plans for development can rationally be conceived.
How is this work done? Certain aspects lend themselves to study on a national scale, for example, the present distribution of population and its growth and shifts from the time of the first settlements; associated with this, the occupational structure and the disribution of industry; national producion and overseas trade. But when it comes to the detail—the stock-taking as we have called it—a study on a Dominion-wide basis would be cumbersome. Moreover it is found that the country is naturally divided into areas—or regions—with a clear identity and character of their own. We all recognise such regions as Northland, the Waikato, the West Coast, Central Otago. In fact it has been found that New Zealand can be divided into 24 or 25 such regions with natural geographical boundaries and of a size convenient for study.
So we take such a region and we proceed to find out all about it. We want to know everything. First of all its natural assets and its limitations—its minerals, its soils, its topography, climate, vegetation—in short, its potential resources. Then we record what human beings have done to it—how the land is used, the towns, the industries, the communications, the power supplies and other assets and their history. In each region two pictures emerge, the present and the possible future. It is the sum total of these regional pictures that form a national mosaic in the light of which a developmental policy can be built on a sure foundation.
As recent commentators have broadly hinted, in a world of expanding population we are living in a fool's paradise. We could even find ourselves with no export surplus—with our population consuming all we produce. On the other hand, with the world's increasing demand for food, our climatic advantages give us an unrivalled opportunity as a primary producing country. By conservation of our resources, by a greater intensity and diversity of production—in short, by planning ahead, we could both feed our third million and increase our export wealth. But do we look like doing it?
The latest news from England shows further progress on the part of the E.M.I. group towards building up their L.P. catalogue. A high proportion of the newest releases are re-issues of existing recordings, but among those not previously obtainable are Beethoven's Seventh Symphony, by the Philharmonia Orchestra under Karajen (Columbia 33CX 1035), Brahms' Third, by the Halle Orchestra under Barbirolli (H.M.V. BLP 1015), Mendelssohn's violin concerto, played by Gioconda de Vito with the London Symphony under Sargent (BLP 1008), and a coupling of Smetana's ‘Moldau’ and Schumann's overture to Byron's ‘Manfred’—Vienna Philharmonic under Furtwangler (BLP 1009). A major release from H.M.V. is of ‘Boris Godounov’ complete on four discs (ALP 1044–7). In this the Bulgarian bass, Boris Christoff, achieves the feat of singing all three bass roles—those of Boris, Perrien and Varlaam, an achievement which I believe (owing to the layout of the opera) is feasible in a stage performance, and so is permissible in a recording. The recording was made in Paris under the experienced direction of Issay Dobrouen, who also conducted Christoff's earlier London recordings of the main arias. Beethoven and Toscanini addicts will rejoice over the release of the maestro's long awaited version of the Ninth Symphony (ALP 1039–40, three sides, with Symphony No. 1, freshly recorded, like the ninth, with the N.B.C. Orchestra, occupying the fourth side).
Those who read and enjoyed ‘The Record Guide’, by Edward Sackville West and Desmond Shawe-Taylor, will need little more than a word to send them rushing to buy its supplement, ‘The Record Year’ (also published by Collins, price 22/6). In the new volume the authors deal with all recordings issued from roughly mid-1951 to mid-1952, as well as recapitulating their remarks about all previously issued LP recordings—thus the LP user will find ‘The Record Year’ a complete guide. You are aware, of course, that the writers confine themselves to records available to ordinary or special order in England, that they select what they consider to be the best available version of a given piece, and that their book is in no sense an encyclopedia. Readers familiar with the writings of this brilliant pair in the ‘Gramophone’, ‘New Statesman’ and the London ‘Observer’ know what to expect—those who have not previously sampled their style are to be envied the joy that will be theirs when they begin to read either ‘The Record Year’ or its predecessor. These authors can be both profound and amusing. They know their way round the gramophone world as you know your own house. There are many delicious moments—read their remarks about the efforts of trumpeter in a certain Brandenburg concertol—and one or two surprisingly naive ones—it is difficult to suppress a smile as the authors discover (at this late date) that the Boston Promenade Orchestra is known in its native surroundings by the less exalted title of ‘Boston Pops’, but they manage a sly dig even here. Long may their turntables revolve.