Heritage New Zealand Ngahuru Autumn 2024

HIGH and dry

At the Lyttelton graving dock

Heritage New Zealand

BLANKET STATEMENTS

Reworking the classic woollen blanket

A PERFECT SHOT

Is this New Zealand’s most photographed building?

BEACON OF HOPE

Resilience in the wake of Cyclone Gabrielle

From 100-acre countrysides to 1000-year-old castles, your membership takes you further with over 1,500 international heritage sites waiting for you.

Where will you membership take

you?

Scan the QR code to explore memorable heritage destinations around the globe.

Corfe Castle, Dorset, founded by William the Conqueror circa 1066, and free to visit with your Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga Membership.

Heritage New Zealand

Ngahuru

/ Autumn 2024

Features

12 Common threads

Life, work and community interweave for Cathy and Jim Schuster as they apply enduring mātauranga to significant projects, old and new

16 Beacon of hope

In the wake of Cyclone Gabrielle, Eskdale War Memorial Church has become a symbol of community resilience

22 The impossible dream

The firm behind more than 30 heritage projects in post-quakes Christchurch has worked alongside the city’s council on a landmark restoration

30 Blanket statements

A Tauranga couple draws on heritage – personal and collective – to weave their take on the classic woollen blanket

34 High and dry

The Lyttelton Graving Dock has been hard at work since 1883

38 A perfect shot

Perhaps New Zealand’s most photographed building, the Dunedin Railway Station is close-up ready once more

Explore the list

8 A living link

Once the site of a pā, a mission station and a family home, The Elms is today one of Tauranga’s biggest visitor drawcards

10 Open wide

A central Wellington building played a key role in the ‘murder house’ myth that haunted Kiwi childhoods

Journeys into the past

42 Be our guest

Many of our historic hotel buildings may be falling into disrepair, but a number in Northland are bucking that trend

48 A concrete solution

Could a technology stretching back millennia hold solutions for the future of one of the world’s most ubiquitous construction materials?

New look. Now recycled.

In our commitment to safeguarding Aotearoa New Zealand’s heritage, we’re thrilled to unveil our new recycled membership cards.

Embracing sustainability changes, small and large, aligns with our mission to preserve and protect our heritage and archaeological record. Expect a new-look membership card in your mailbox upon your next membership renewal.

Even though the design may have changed, the range of amazing benefits that your membership card unlocks haven’t.

Remember to carry your card with you – most places will require you to present your card to receive your benefits and discounts. It’s your key to unlocking a world of heritage and savings. Visit the online Members’ Hub – your digital gateway to a comprehensive breakdown of your benefits.

Conveniently explore this virtual space, designed with you in mind, to stay updated on the go. Simply scan the QR code on the back of your card to access the Hub and start exploring.

Ngā mihi | Thank you!

We are very grateful to those supporters who have recently made donations. Whilst some are kindly acknowledged below, many more have chosen to give anonymously.

Mrs Dawn Morgan

Mrs Tracey Rowan

Mr Paul and Mrs Natalie Hickson

Mrs Suzanne and Mr Wayne Morris

Mr Stephen and Mrs Karen Fox

Mr Kevin Tonks

Mr Brian and Mrs Linda Dawkins

Mrs Frances Bird

Ms Heather Rae and Graham Cook

Mrs Vivien Ward

Mr Anthony and Mrs Elizabeth Plummer

Lady Barbara Stewart

Mrs Sandra and Mr Bruce Greenfield

Mr Donald Charleston

Mrs Bernadette and Mr Nick Heaphy

Mr Paul Styles

Dr Gill Hood and Mr Dan Ripley

John Paterson and Elaine Penn

Mrs Anne and Mr Bob Flynn

Mrs Lynley Ackerley

Mr Max Hunter-Walker

Mr Graeme and Mrs Joan Fenton

Mr Michael and Mrs Suzanna Turner

Mr Robert and Mrs Susan Geck

Mr George and Mrs Dot Richardson

Dr Kathryn Davies and Dr Robert Amor

Mr Wouter de Maat and Mrs Wendy Maat

Mr Lyndsay and Mrs Lorraine Jacobs

Mrs Anne and Mr John Bruce Clegg

Heritage New Zealand

Issue 172 Ngahuru • Autumn 2024

ISSN 1175-9615 (Print)

ISSN 2253-5330 (Online)

Cover image:

Lyttleton graving dock by Mike Heydon

Editor

Caitlin Sykes, Sugar Bag Publishing

Sub-editor

Trish Heketa, Sugar Bag Publishing

Art director

Amanda Trayes, Sugar Bag Publishing

Publisher

Heritage New Zealand magazine is published quarterly by Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga. The magazine had a circulation of 7333 as at 30 September 2023.

The views expressed in the articles are those of the contributors and do not necessarily reflect the views of Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga.

Advertising

For advertising enquiries, please contact the Manager Publishing.

Phone: (04) 470 8054

Email: information@heritage.org.nz

Subscriptions/Membership

Heritage New Zealand magazine is sent to all members of Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga. Call 0800 802 010 to find out more.

Tell us your views

At Heritage New Zealand magazine we enjoy feedback about any of the articles in this issue or heritage-related matters.

Email: The Editor at heritagenz@gmail.com

Post: The Editor, c/- Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga, PO Box 2629, Wellington 6140

Feature articles: Note that articles are usually commissioned, so please contact the Editor for guidance regarding a story proposal before proceeding. All manuscripts accepted for publication in Heritage New Zealand magazine are subject to editing at the discretion of the Editor and Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga.

Online: Subscription and advertising details can be found under the Resources section on the Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga website heritage.org.nz

It’s not hard to see why the Dunedin Railway Station is touted as New Zealand’s most photographed building. Lavishly ornate on a grand scale, it is a magnificent, epic gingerbread house, and the building is now more than camera ready following a three-year, $7 million exterior restoration, which we cover in our story on page 38.

Construction of the station began in 1903 and building materials and methods have changed a lot in the intervening 121 years. That means those tasked with working on such complex heritage projects today often have to apply their skills in new ways – and become otherwise inventive.

When it was discovered that the tiles adorning the building’s domed turrets had been discontinued, local company Allan’s Sheetmetal & Engineering Services took on the challenge of making the required replacements.

Metalworker Greg Pritchard describes creating bespoke processes to produce copper tiles of two different types: one a lozenge shape, the other like fish scales. Installing the fish-scale-shaped tiles, he says, was a particularly tricky job.

But seeing them in place made it all worthwhile: “It was the first heritage building I’d worked on, and we were doing something that hadn’t been done for 120-odd years,” says Greg in the story. “I had to learn on the job, but I love challenging myself, so I was in my element.”

The dedication to detail and craft of those working on heritage restorations never ceases to amaze me. They’re projects where the devil really is in the detail – generally accompanied by high levels of resourcefulness to pull them off.

Jim and Cathy Schuster have built a life together around such work. In her profile on the couple (page 12),

writer Niki Partsch details how Jim’s and Cathy’s lives and work have been interwoven since they met at teachers’ training college in 1973. From a long line of carvers and weavers, Jim first introduced Cathy to his mother Emily Schuster in his family kitchen, where expert weaver Emily promptly asked Cathy to assist her in making piupiu –inviting her into the family and the craft.

Jim and Cathy have worked on projects around the world, and in many heritage spaces, where they have employed mātauranga to restore beloved places and pass on their knowledge.

One example they talk about in the story is Taharua Marae, near Paeroa, where the couple worked alongside the community on the restoration of their whare tupuna, which bears the same name.

Jim and Cathy worked on the whare on and off for an incredible 15 years, forging lifelong friendships in the process. This illustrates how such craftspeople leave their marks not only on the fabric of our historic places but also in the hearts of those who hold them dear – or as Jim says in the story: “Mum always talked about how you weave everyone into your life.”

Ngā mihi nui Caitlin

piupiu: woven waist garments

mātauranga: knowledge

whare tupuna: ancestral house

Heritage New Zealand magazine is printed with mineral oil-free, soy-based vegetable inks on Impress paper. This paper is Forestry Stewardship Council® (FSC®) certified, manufactured from pulp from responsible sources under the ISO 14001 Environmental Management System. Please recycle.

LETTERS...

The story on The Moorings in Heritage New Zealand magazine [‘Looking lively’, issue 170, Spring 2023] recalled my own visits to the remarkable building in the late 1970s. That was during the occupation by the Leniston family. Instead of the children moving out, the parents had moved to a smaller home, leaving the large family, which was growing even larger with partners and next-generation children.

I was intrigued with the unusual, rambling

architecture and large rooms, such as the billiard room, which spoke to me of the grand halls of medieval times. It was also the lifestyle of the extended family that fascinated me. Having grown up in a nuclear family (mum, dad and two kids) it was a new experience for me to share in a small way this extended family life.

I especially remember lunchtimes; preparations included scouting round the many rooms to find out how

SOCIAL HERITAGE… with Paul Veart, Web and Digital Advisor, Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga

On the morning of 30 April 1940, a Tasman Empire Airways (TEAL) flying boat took off from Mechanics Bay in Auckland. On board were 41,000 letters, six crew members and nine passengers – including a journalist from The Auckland Star. The flight was the inaugural trip in what would become a regular route between Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland and Sydney – a nine-hour journey billed as “New Zealand’s final link by air with the United Kingdom”.

Although the passengers may not have realised it at the time, the service was the beginning of the end for another mode of transport: the passenger liner. Since the 1920s, huge liners such as RMS Rangitiki, MS Rangitane and QSMV Dominion Monarch had transported people and goods between Great Britain and New Zealand. Many of these travellers were immigrants, while others were tourists, students or –after World War II – Kiwis on their OEs. Passenger liners also extended into the Pacific, with vessels such as MV Tofua II making trips between New Zealand, Fiji, Tonga, Niue and Samoa.

We recently featured a series of photos that documented the final days of these vessels as they departed the Auckland wharves. The images showcase the excitement, nerves and sadness that often accompany long journeys, with friends and family holding streamers as the boats moved out into the current.

We also had several comments, with people recounting daily life and working conditions on the boats. One contributor described his role as an electrical apprentice for the Union Steamship Company, including a constant battle against black carbon dust in the electrical systems. Another commenter celebrated their father’s success in stowing away on the Tofua – twice!

Did you travel on a passenger liner to or from Aotearoa New Zealand? If so, please let us know – we’d be interested in featuring your story in a future social media post.

IMAGERY: CREATIVE COMMONS LICENCE: DEPARTURE OF THE MARIPOSA, AUCKLAND, 1959 COURTESY OF AUCKLAND LIBRARIES HERITAGE COLLECTIONS

many people would be at lunch. Chris Cochran refers to “being a small part of the history of the building”. In an even smaller way I am one of the hundreds of people Chris mentions who have been part of the various periods in the life of the building. I treasure that experience.

Ian Robertson

I read the ‘Tunnel vision’ article in the Winter 2023 edition [issue 169] with interest and noted the sentence on page 20 that

read “Steam locomotives couldn’t use the tunnel due to its steep grade”. I expected to see a correction in the recent Spring issue.

If you look at the history of the tunnel, you will see that it was not the steep grade that led to the use of electric engines for the journey through the tunnel, but the build-up of fumes and gases, which meant there was insufficient air for the steam locomotives to run properly. At 8.5 kilometres, the Ōtira Tunnel is long, and engineers

Ngā Taonga i tēnei marama, Heritage this month –subscribe now

Keep up to date with heritage happenings with our free e-newsletter Ngā Taonga i tēnei marama, Heritage this month.

Visit

heritage.org.nz to subscribe.

with European experience were well aware of this problem, so electrification was allowed for from the early planning stages.

I have long been interested in the tunnel as my father, AJ Harrop, was a reporter on The Press at the time and, as a Hokitika man, was asked to write the foreword to the special edition of The Press to commemorate the opening of the Ōtira Tunnel on 4 August 1923.

David Harrop New Plymouth

Places we visit

Simon Williams, who wrote the story, responds:

A steam locomotive grinding up a steep grade, as in that tunnel, will create a lot of smoke and gases. The crew would die, so the steep grade makes steam impossible. There have been occasions when steam engines have been used in the tunnel going down the hill, when they can coast.

A Public Works statement by the Hon JG Coates, Minister of Public Works, tabled in Parliament in 1923, states: “Owing to the steep

grade and the difficulty of dealing effectively with the smoke from steam locomotives, it was decided to electrify the tunnel.”

In the new book, Through the Alps: The Ōtira Railway Tunnel, authors Bruce Shalders, Chris Stewart and Diane Gordon-Burns write: “The grade of the tunnel and the difficulty created by the smoke from steam locomotives meant that electric traction was considered the safest course of action.”

HERITAGE NEW ZEALAND POUHERE TAONGA DIRECTORY

National Office

PO Box 2629, Wellington 6140

Antrim House

63 Boulcott Street

Wellington 6011

(04) 472 4341

information@heritage.org.nz

Go to heritage.org.nz for details of offices and historic places around New Zealand that are cared for by Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga.

Lyttelton, p34

Dunedin, p38

Eskdale, p16

Rawene, p42

Tauranga, p8

Wellington, p10

Christchurch, p22

BEHIND THE STORY... Northland-based writer

Myjanne Jensen

Where do you live in Northland and how did you come to settle there?

I am based in Waipapa/ Cable Bay in Te Hiku o Te Ika/the Far North. I whakapapa to Whangaroa (Ngāti Kahu ki Whangaroa/ Ngāpuhi) and moved here with my husband and our four girls in 2021 from Brisbane, where I was born.

Māoritanga: Māori culture rangatira: chief te ao Māori: the Māori world te ao Pākehā: the Pākehā world tupuna: ancestor whakapapa: genealogical links

We did this for many reasons, but the main one was connection: we wanted our girls to have a solid understanding of who they are and, in turn, a strong connection to their Māori culture. This was also true for me because I had never experienced this, growing up in Australia, so it was important for me to strengthen my knowledge of and connection to my Māoritanga.

In this issue you write about historic Northland hotels that are thriving in their communities. What was the most interesting thing you learned while writing this story?

It was that the origins of hotels in this country started here in Te Tai Tokerau/Northland. I had no idea that was the case, so it was interesting to discover this and to see just how much this region has had an impact on other regions. I also really enjoyed learning about Dargaville’s historic Central Hotel and its resident ghosts. Sounds intriguing, but I’m not sure I’d have the guts to overnight there!

What’s a favourite heritage place for you, and why?

I’ve yet to visit, but Kerikeri’s Kemp House is somewhere I’d like to go because it’s where my tupuna Hariata Hongi once resided. She is someone who I really admire and feel a connection with, not just because of who she was – a daughter of [rangatira] Hongi Hika – but also because she was a wonderful writer and someone who could navigate both te ao Māori and te ao Pākehā with ease.

SUPPORTER SPOTLIGHT WITH… Peter Wilson

Peter Wilson has been a member of Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga since the 1980s. A former teacher and long-time farmer who’s now retired, he’s written three books covering histories of the North Taranaki districts of Lepperton, Tikorangi and Huirangi (where he lives today).

Peter has had a long association with the Bertrand Road Suspension Bridge, a Category 2 historic place. Built in 1926, the bridge links Huirangi and Tikorangi. It was closed due to safety concerns in 1985, but after a community effort that raised more than $600,000, it was reopened 21 years later.

What prompted you to join and continue supporting Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga over the years?

It probably started with my interest in and involvement with the Bertrand Road Suspension Bridge. But we also have a motorhome and travel around quite a bit, so we’ve visited a lot of heritage places over the years. I’ve always been interested in places that were part of our development as a nation.

What spurred you to write your books covering the histories of the districts around where you live?

My wife’s uncle had lived in Lepperton and started writing a history of the area, which resulted in a suitcase full of papers. After he died, and a discussion with the family, I said I’d have a go at it, so the project was passed on to me.

My roots are quite deep in Lepperton. I went to school there, as did my mother, and my mother’s family was among the first European settlers in the area who weren’t involved with the military. That book project progressed very

slowly over the next 25 years or so until I retired, and the book was published around 2008, with a reprint of a second edition in 2020.

The Bertrand Road Suspension Bridge is really the connection with the other books. Tikorangi is across the bridge on the northern side of the Waitara River, and in the process of trying to get our bridge reopened, I had lots of dealings with people in Tikorangi who had seen the Lepperton book and said, “Why don’t you write up the history of Tikorangi?” It’s a bigger district, so that book took around five years’ work. Then I was getting a bit of stick from the people of Huirangi, because that’s the area in which we actually live, who said, “When are you going to write up our story?”

I’ve been motivated by the realisation that a lot of stories get lost over time and they’re extremely difficult to recover.

What’s your favourite heritage place?

The bridge is probably the most personal and longstanding one. It’s adjacent to the area where we lived for 40 years, and we still live near the bridge. My wife walks down there every day and keeps the area clean of rubbish.

I think it’s the only bridge in New Zealand that was closed to all traffic for 21 years and then was virtually rebuilt. We didn’t want a new bridge; we wanted it rebuilt to the original design if we could. So it’s unique, and it continues as a working bridge today.

Endnote: We hope to bring you more on the Bertrand Road Suspension Bridge in a future issue. For enquiries regarding Peter’s books, email windyglen@xtra.co.nz

Living history

“Planting out lettuces, pruning 32 fruit trees, planting out cuttings, sowing peas and beans, preparing and planting raspberry bed, transplanting trees,” reads an entry in the journal of Alfred Brown detailing his work in the grounds of The Elms.

The construction of the Tauranga mission house began in 1838. It was built to house Alfred and his family; he went on to become the first Archdeacon of the Anglican Church in Tauranga and ultimately purchased the property in 1873.

Alfred’s toil on the land bore fruit: The Elms’ garden is now recognised as a Garden of National Significance, and an oak tree grown from an acorn that Alfred brought from England in 1829 still stands in the garden today.

You can read more about this Category 1 historic place on the following pages.

WORDS:

NICOLA MARTIN / IMAGERY: LOTTIE HEDLEY

A living link

The Elms offers visitors a view through the layers of Tauranga’s history

Nestled at the northern tip of the Te Papa peninsula, The Elms/ Te Papa Tauranga has seen a lot of life over the years.

Sited on land originally home to Otamataha Pā, the buildings have their roots as a mission station; today they're a place where the community gathers, and a hub for education and historic preservation.

A Category 1 historic place, The Elms was established in 1838 by the Church Missionary Society (CMS) as it expanded its operations from the Bay of Islands to Tauranga, and its timber

library and mission house are the Bay of Plenty’s oldest known surviving buildings.

“The Elms is the iconic heritage site for Tauranga and for the Bay of Plenty,” says its General Manager Andrew Gregg. “It's a birthplace of bicultural Tauranga and a place that has been continuously inhabited for hundreds of years.”

Andrew, who began his role eight years ago, says The Elms has a multi-layered history that includes it being the site of a pā, a mission station and a family home.

That history, he says, remains at the heart of its

operation today as a tourism and event venue. It also thrust the property into the limelight in 2018 as the Anglican Church made a formal public apology to Ngā Tamarāwaho and Ngāti Tapu hapū over the loss of land known as Te Papa Block –423 hectares stretching from The Elms to Gate Pā.

The land The Elms sits on was originally known as Otamataha Pā, the landing place of ancestral waka and home to a thriving Māori community. However, intertribal warfare in the 1820s led to the abandonment of the site.

LOCATION

Tauranga is located 105km east of Hamilton and 85km north of Rotorua in the western Bay of Plenty.

Later, when local chiefs saw trade and security advantages in a missionary presence in the 1830s, they invited CMS missionaries to establish a mission station at Te Papa.

In 1864, the mission station was used by British troops during the battles of Gate Pā/Pukehinahina in April and Te Ranga in June.

In 1873 Alfred Brown, the first Archdeacon of the Anglican Church in Tauranga, and his second wife Christina, purchased the mission house and the surrounding land, naming it The Elms after the trees growing on the property. Following their tenure, successive family members lived in the property, which was first opened to visitors in 1919 by Christina’s niece, Alice.

Today a group of 50 volunteers helps to run The Elms by providing guided tours, tending its gardens (it is home to a Garden of National Significance), facilitating educational programmes and serving Devonshire teas.

Dorothy Gibbs has been volunteering at The Elms for more than 20 years and, describing herself as “a storyteller from way back”, has shared the site’s story with many of the thousands of visitors who come through its gates every year. Now aged 87, she tried to retire in 2022 but says the beauty and tranquillity of The Elms drew her back.

“The more that people know of the history of New Zealand, the better their understanding of Māori and how the Treaty must be maintained,” says Dorothy, who is originally from Wales and moved to New Zealand 64 years ago.

“I became a teacher of history as I’d been inspired by the many Norman castles in my county and the stories of the people who had lived in them.

“I moved to New Zealand and Tauranga to teach, and as I raised my children I was always fascinated by The Elms and vowed that when

I had time, I would volunteer my services.”

Andrew says The Elms’ volunteers are at the heart of its operation: “We really couldn't exist or operate as we do without them; they are the lifeblood of the organisation, ensuring that the legacy of The Elms endures for generations to come.”

The Elms’ lush surroundings make it a sought-after events venue, meaning the

historic site has provided the backdrop for numerous weddings and other functions, further connecting it to its community.

The site is run by The Elms Foundation, a charitable trust formed in 1999 that has developed a sustainable business model and operates The Elms as an educational centre, tourism site and events venue. The trust also receives some funding

support from Tauranga City Council.

Andrew says the trust’s model provides an example of how heritage properties can secure their future while honouring their past.

“The Elms remains an essential part of Tauranga's identity and a cherished cultural treasure,” he says.

heritage.org.nz/ list-details/7016/Listing

WORDS: ANNA DUNLOP / IMAGERY: TOM ACKROYD

Open wide

A central Wellington apartment building once played a key role in the myth of the ‘murder house’ that haunted many Kiwi childhoods

No one enjoys a visit to the dentist, but spare a thought for schoolchildren of the earlyto mid-1900s who endured so much pain in the country’s dental clinics – with their sharp metal implements and foot-powered drills – that the buildings were nicknamed, rather morbidly, ‘murder houses’. It’s a name that

quickly wove itself into New Zealand’s cultural fabric.

This widespread dental anxiety came about after a free dental health programme for primary school students, the New Zealand School Dental Service, was instigated – the first of its kind in the world. It was launched in 1920 following surveys by the New Zealand Dental Association

that showed an appalling prevalence of dental disease among the country’s children. All-female dental nurses were trained (they were cheaper than their male counterparts and assumed to be better suited than men to looking after children) and by 1931 there were 174 dental clinics throughout the country.

Following the election of New Zealand’s first Labour Government in 1935, the dental service was expanded – dental training schools were established and more dental nurses were trained. (Years later, in 1974, these nurses would march down Lambton Quay in Wellington in protest over the poor pay, poor resources and ‘military-style’ working conditions to which they had been subjected for more than half a century;

as noted in Noel O’Hare’s book Tooth and Veil, it was “almost certainly the largest organised demonstration of women since the days of the suffragettes”.)

One such training facility, the Wellington Children’s Dental Clinic (a Category 2 historic place), opened at the upper end of Willis Street in 1940, following several years of construction on the site of the old Te Aro School (which was demolished in 1933).

The building was designed by government architect JT Mair, and its stripped Classical style, devoid of traditional decorative detailing, is typical of government buildings of the inter-war years.

Kerryn Pollock, Area Manager Central for Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga and co-author of Heritage

LOCATION

Wellington city is situated at the south-western tip of the North Island.

of Health: A Brief History of Medical Practices, Maternity Homes and Motorways in Te Aro, Wellington, says that a considerable part of the clinic’s heritage significance is due to its social history and former function.

“It symbolises the state intervention and statewide health initiatives that ramped up under the first Labour Government.”

Another important feature of the building is its scale. “It gives a sense of monumentalism, which again speaks to the importance of the school dental service,” says Kerryn.

Additionally, as she notes in her book, it created “a huge, monolithic presence on a street that was generally populated by smaller buildings”. In the early 1900s, the area around the dental clinic consisted predominantly of two-storey villas, many of which had been bought by medical practitioners to establish general practices and maternity homes.

“It became informally known as the ‘Harley Street of Wellington’,” says Kerryn – a nod to the famous medical precinct in London.

A conservation plan, prepared by Julia Kennedy for Victoria University of Wellington’s School of Architecture in 1998, details the building’s construction, as well as its aesthetic

and scientific significance. Foundations, floors, walls, columns and roofs were built of reinforced concrete, with air vents made from cast bronze, and copper used for flashings and downpipes. High-quality timbers were also used: tōtara for floor battens, rimu for ceiling joists, and kauri and rimu for the joinery.

The interior was carefully designed to meet the requirements of a purposebuilt dental clinic and training school. According to the conservation plan, the ground floor was for administrative use, with a large waiting room and assembly hall for staff and students; the first floor was devoted to teaching, and comprised a lecture room and lounge and dining spaces; and the second floor housed the children’s dental clinic.

It was this upper level that stood out: six-metre-high windows allowed maximum

levels of light into the vast clinic, which in 1940 held 49 dental units identifiable by numbered lights. A mezzanine floor housed an X-ray machine and research department, and other rooms on the second floor included an extraction room, a recovery room and an orthodontic department.

It’s interesting to note that the listing information available for the dental clinic on the New Zealand Heritage List/Rārangi Kōrero is scant. This is, in part, due to changes to the Historic Places Act (which was first passed in 1954), as well as the evolution of the list, says Anna RentonGreen, Manager Heritage Listing at Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga.

“The initial focus was predominantly on archaeological sites, and it wasn’t until the 1980s that registers for buildings, historic

areas and traditional sites were established,” she says.

Different processes and criteria were used to create each of these registers – hence the disparity in the types and levels of information available for different entries.

“There was a bias towards buildings, which were often seen as ‘frozen moments’, divorced from the landscape context,” says Anna.

These separate registers were combined to form the Register of historic places, historic areas, wāhi tapu and wāhi tapu Areas (renamed ‘the List’ in 2014, with the addition of a new category – wāhi tūpuna).

Listing Advisor Annie James adds that many of the older records are hard copies and haven’t yet been digitalised.

“A substantial number of places were listed during the 1980s, and much of the information on them has yet to be reflected online. We’re currently investigating how to add it to the List – it’s a huge project.”

The Wellington Children’s Dental Clinic remained a functioning dental school until the early 1990s, when the training programme was scaled down and then closed. The building was then used for several years by Wellington Polytechnic to house its journalism, design and music departments, before being converted into apartments in 2004.

While this development altered the interior significantly (the massive, second-floor clinic space has sadly been lost), the exterior remains unchanged, standing as a reminder of one of New Zealand’s first health policies – a social experiment that was admired and replicated in countries around the world.

heritage.org.nz/listdetails/1350/Listing

Above: An interior view of the Children's Dental Clinic, Wellington. Unknown photographer. 1940. The Dominion Post Collection, Alexander Turnbull Library. Ref: EP-Health-Hospitals-Dental-01. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand.

Common threads

WORDS: NIKI PARTSCH / IMAGERY: LOTTIE HEDLEY

Cathy and Jim Schuster have forged a life together applying the mātauranga passed down to them to significant heritage restorations, as well as new projects

Jim Schuster (of Te Arawa whānui and Samoan descent) recalls absorbing the mātauranga associated with weaving from an early age from his mother, Emily Schuster, along with her many precious pearls of wisdom: “Mum always talked about how you weave everyone into your life,” says Jim, who descends from a long line of weavers and carvers.

And so it was, quite literally, when Jim took his future wife, Cathy, to the family home to meet his mother for the first time.

Jim and Cathy had met as students in Wellington in 1973 while training to be teachers. Cathy vividly remembers walking into Jim’s family kitchen, aged just 18.

“Jim’s mum needed some help with her piupiu, so that was the first thing I learned,” she says. Despite not expecting to spend the day preparing harakeke, this is how her weaving journey began.

Handwork wasn’t new for Cathy – “I was brought up with traditional crafts like knitting, crocheting and tapestry and making my own clothes” – but she also had harakeke in her blood.

Cathy’s Scottish forebears came to Aotearoa New Zealand through Otago and from there went on to Redan in Southland, where they farmed, and operated flax mills for which the area is well known; muka was extracted from the harakeke to make rope and linen – a huge industry at the time.

Cathy only learned this part of her family history quite recently and was “really quite thrilled” to find out about it. Working with the scent of harakeke is something she enjoys, and she realises the mill must have been redolent with this aroma during her father’s working days.

Cathy taught in local schools for 25 years while also focusing on their growing whānau, before shifting to full-time weaving and piupiu making in 2005. Similarly, Jim taught at schools and tertiary institutions in the Bay of Plenty until around 2003, when he joined Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga as a Māori Built Heritage Advisor – a role from which he has recently retired.

Drawing on their respective whakapapa and skillsets, the couple remain committed to perpetuating the mātauranga associated with their work.

They share their knowledge and techniques with wider communities, and all their children and grandchildren know how to harvest, process and prepare fibre, and weave. Their youngest granddaughter, Ngātai, aged 12, can complete a turapa entirely on her own.

Among the many projects they’ve worked on, some stand out, and for various reasons.

Both reference Taharua Marae, near Paeroa (the whare tupuna bears the same name), which is perhaps the longest project they’ve worked on – 15 years on and off. Their first mokopuna, Anahera, was nine months old when they harvested kiekie at the project’s beginning; Anahera, who visited Taharua through the years and helped paint its kōwhaiwhai panels, is now at university.

“The whare is unique in that they’ve got their own patterns, and we haven’t seen them anywhere else,” says Jim, who has worked at hundreds of marae, predominantly in the North Island.

Taharua is about two hours’ drive from the couple’s home in Ruato Bay, on Lake Rotoiti, and they’d regularly travel there after work on Fridays, teaching and supporting the whānau, who would continue the work between their visits (see sidebar, page 15).

The pair regularly travel for work. For example, they were among a large team of weavers who contributed to a series of turapa for the United Nations’ HQ in New York. Following the refurbishment of the General Assembly Hall in 2014, 43 panels depicting traditional and contemporary Māori designs now adorn its entranceway.

Sometimes their work is much closer to home. Jim and Cathy, along with other local weavers, worked with Te Arawa Lakes Trust on a project that used a harakeke matting, called uwhi, to smother invasive pest weeds in lakes near where they live.

“We had to come up with three different designs,” says Cathy, “applying what we already knew in different ways.”

The results of monitoring the effectiveness of the uwhi are still pending, but early indications are that they are performing much better than imported hessian mats, and are also providing shelter for native fish species including kōura, inanga and kākahi.

Preparation in their work is crucial. Harvesting, processing and drying of toetoe (for latticework) and kiekie (for design patterns), painting of kaho, and lashing of kākaho and kaho all have to be done before weaving can begin. This is a special time for the families, friends and communities with whom they work.

“We love taking kids harvesting because they love it,” says Cathy, “and it gets in their blood.”

A lot of harvesting was required to create the enormous turapa for Te Pā at the University of Waikato – a massive modern development encompassing a student hub, wharenui, cafeteria, offices, amphitheatre, boardroom and study space. Says Cathy: “On our first visit to the site, there was just a huge, empty concrete shell.”

The project took less than a year to complete but held major challenges, including understanding the architectural plans so they could commission the construction of colossal timber frames to hold the panels. Jim and Cathy worked together on the panels from home during lockdowns.

“Later we called on our weaving friends and whānau to come and help; some had never done any tukutuku before, but they are really good at it now,” laughs Cathy.

When Te Pā opened in 2023, Jim and Cathy were acknowledged as partners in the project and their panels sit on the back wall of the wharenui.

Not all projects, however, are completed to plan. The couple’s house is full of panels destined for the whare tupuna Hinekura, located nearby at Waiiti Marae in Rotoiti. It was Emily’s intent to make tukutuku for Hinekura before she passed away. The couple hope to deliver these before the next Ngāti Pikiao Ahurei – a festival that supports whakawhanaungatanga, hākinakina and kapa haka.

Weaving is very therapeutic, says Cathy. “A lot of weavers come into it as part of healing processes – sometimes from tragic lives, and someone has introduced them to it.”

She recalls how she didn’t particularly want to work on the day Jim introduced her to his mother, but if she hadn’t “my life could have been so different”.

Both she and Jim, however, wouldn’t live their lives any other way. Jim’s great-great-grandfather, esteemed carver Tene Waitere, learned to carve at Ruato Bay; it’s also where he passed on his skills and was laid to rest. Now Jim and Cathy work into the small hours there, continuing to impart their wisdom and craft.

“We start when we wake up and finish when we go to sleep,” says Cathy. “Emily worked day and night. After she passed away in 1997 we set up a rōpū raranga in her name. It is still going today.”

They agree that spending long periods working on opposite sides of large tukutuku panels can test any relationship. “You’ve got to be compatible,” says Jim. “We’re not only weaving harakeke or kiekie, we’re also weaving our lives together.”

ONE OF A KIND

Whānau from Ngāti Taharua, Ngāti Maru and Ngāti Hako all whakapapa to Taharua – an unusual whare tupuna near Paeroa that has tukutuku and kōwhaiwhai but no whakairo.

Built by skilled tradesmen from Te Whānau-a-Apanui and opened in 1890, Taharua was occupied for decades. However, in 1978 its roof blew off in a storm and, despite efforts to protect the exposed interior, the damage was extensive and expert help was needed for its repair.

Taharua Marae Committee Chair Peter Te Moananui describes how Jim and Cathy became involved around 2005 after attending the tangi of his aunt, Kyla Te Moananui.

“On the way to our urupā, Jim saw our whare in the paddock. After the service he expressed interest and was invited to take a closer look. Jim was adamant that the whare could be fully renovated. He and Cathy committed to our project then and there. The new trustees accepted their offer of help. Jim was also asked to guide us in terms of tikanga to keep everyone safe through the renovation.”

Recalls Jim: “When I walked in and saw what was in there, I just got a picture in my head of it all completed.”

Cathy also remembers that first visit. “Panels were missing, and some were in piles on the floor, but it had us from the minute we saw it.”

Fortunately, photos had been taken in the 1970s of the whare, which she describes as one of a kind.

“There are 82 panels in this little whare, and we’ve never seen anything like them. It was so unique, you couldn’t turn your back on it.

“We harvested kiekie from their own farm in Kennedy Bay and we boiled it in a 40-gallon drum that had a copper in the top of it and a fire underneath, and we had a steel vat from a cow shed for cold water. So, you can make do.

“We were there to teach the whānau and then they would carry on working, but we brought some panels home.”

Retired teacher and netball champion Mirth Solomon (née Te Moananui), who passed away last year and is Peter’s cousin, made 31 panels at her home at Koutu, Rotorua.

The couple say they have made lifelong friends and met many members of Ngāti Taharua through the project. They emphasise how satisfying it is to see Taharua in all its glory, now standing proud and ready to receive whānau and manuhiri once more.

Peter led the project and is currently writing a book about Taharua, which reopened on Waitangi Day, 2019.

“Jim and Cathy deserve all of the accolades that we can give them. They knew that we trustees were out of our depth and that we knew little about the work that needed to be done. They were very patient with us; they didn’t try to force their ideas on us but gave us their opinions and advice, and they allowed us to make the decisions,” he says. “With Jim and Cathy’s help, we achieved a fantastic outcome.” n

In recognition of Mirth Solomon, Jim responds: “I a mātou e tuhi ana i tēnei pānui, i mate atu a Mirth. He maimai aroha tēnei ki a ia. Haere atu

hākinakina: to play sport harakeke: flax inanga: whitebait kaho: crossbeams

kākahi: freshwater mussels

kākaho: toetoe stems

kapa haka: traditional dance

kiekie: fibrous native vine

kōura: freshwater crayfish

kōwhaiwhai: painted scroll ornamentation

kura: schools manuhiri: visitors mātauranga: knowledge, wisdom mokopuna: grandchild muka: dressed flax fibre

piupiu: woven waist garment

rōpū raranga: weaving collective tangi: funeral tikanga: cultural protocol toetoe: native plants with long, grassy leaves

tukutuku: woven latticework

turapa: tukutuku pattern featured within a wall panel urupā: cemetery uwhi: harakeke matting whakairo: carvings whakawhanaungatanga: kinship, connections whare tupuna: ancestral house

rā e te mātanga o te mahi tukutuku, te ringa rehe o Ngāti Taharua. Moe mai rā e kui e. – Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga.” (Contextual translation: Mirth passed away recently, while we were writing this story. We at Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga acknowledge her skills and status as a master tukutuku weaver of Ngāti Taharua.)

BEACON OF HOPE

WORDS: MATT PHILP / IMAGERY: MIKE HEYDON

In the wake of Cyclone Gabrielle, a community has rallied around an historic Esk Valley church that has become a symbol of resilience

1. Esk Valley’s 102-year-old Eskdale War Memorial Church in happier times, pre-Cyclone Gabrielle.

2. A bird’s-eye view of the church after the floodwaters had subsided.

When Esk Valley in Hawke’s Bay flooded in February 2023, houses were inundated, cars washed away, vineyards ruined.

At first glance, the 102-year-old Eskdale War Memorial Church seemed to have fared better, its roughcast walls holding firm even while the waters raged past, depositing great piles of silt, trees and debris around its base.

Sadly, appearances were deceptive. Water had found its way inside both the church and a detached lounge on the grounds. When in the following days church members were able to dig away enough mud to open the front door, they found a devastating scene.

Church board member Linda Paterson walked to the church from her nearby house as soon as the floodwaters subsided. She found the altar and pews upended. Mud covered the carpets. Hymn books, registers and the organ were waterlogged or choked with silt. In the adjacent church lounge, where the water had almost reached the ceiling, silt was piled halfway up the sliding doors.

“I just sobbed and sobbed,” says Linda, whose father had formerly chaired the church board and whose mother had played the organ there for 50 years. She posted an online video of the devastation. “I got so many responses to it. People were saying, ‘I love that church; when I come down the valley it reminds me

that I’m nearly home.’ Or: ‘My parents were married there.’ Or: ‘I was married there.’ There were all these memories and meanings.”

That sense of community is precisely what was envisaged when local landowner Thomas Clark and his daughter Annie built the interdenominational church in 1920, spurred by the death in France of Annie’s husband Lieutenant Percival Moore Beattie.

“My hope is that this memorial church may result in willing cooperation and help to unite professing Christians in love and fellowship towards one another,” wrote Thomas of his vision.

The church included two granite commemorative tablets, the larger of which listed 26 other men from the district who were killed in action. Mementoes of LT Beattie’s service were added over the years, including the wooden cross that originally marked his grave in France, and the French government donated a regimental flag “in memory of New Zealanders who fought side by side with the French during the Great War 1914–1918”. In 1947 a tablet honouring local men killed in World War II was unveiled.

It had been thought that James ChapmanTaylor was the building’s architect; however, the church was designed by architect WP Finch (as stated in a contemporary local newspaper report on the church’s opening).

The church’s memorial function remains important – the church holds an annual Anzac Day service and the place is always packed, as it is for Christmas and Easter.

As it has been for other churches, that hasn’t been the case for regular Sunday services for some time. Linda reckons only a handful of people attend routinely.

But as the response to her video suggested, the church is still held dear by its community. In the immediate aftermath of the flood, with the valley devastated and other familiar

landmarks washed away, it was invested with new significance.

“It’s our rock,” says church board chair Tom Clark, who farms one valley over and is Thomas Clark’s great-grandson.

The clean-up began towards the end of the first week. Linda put out a request for help. Expecting half a dozen volunteers, she got 40.

“People arrived with all this energy – and probably adrenaline – and started sweeping out all the mud, ripping up the carpets, stacking pews and putting all the other furniture

“This church was built out of adversity and born from the generosity of people of this community, and once again it is a symbol of people coming together in adversity”

outside. All the books and music books and the organ had to be thrown out beside the road.

Then Tom got another crew in, and they took the pews to his woolshed,” says Linda.

“Next we started on the lounge, which had traditionally been used for community meetings and cups of tea after services. Everything in it had to be taken out, including curtains, floor coverings and wall linings.”

At first the task seemed overwhelming –“like trying to take down a mountain with a teaspoon” – but steady progress has been made since February. Part of the floor was lifted to remove silt that had infiltrated below, but that has now been reinstated, and at the time of writing the matai floorboards were about to be resanded and varnished. An exact match for the ruined carpet has been ordered from Australia. Power has been restored, drainage has been fixed and the lounge walls have been relined.

A local took responsibility for revamping the pews and is working his way through those, while others around Hawke’s Bay have adopted individual pieces of furniture to restore.

Insurance is helping to pay for tradies, but there has been a huge effort throughout by volunteers, not all of them local. Linda cites a couple from Pukekohe who have committed themselves long term to the Cyclone Gabrielle clean-up, including working on the church. “People from all over New Zealand have come to help,” she says.

Some features of the church and its history have been lost, but it could have been much worse. A marriage register found covered in silt and soaking wet was sent to the John Kinder Theological Library in Auckland, where staff were able to recover at least some of the written records. Better still, a number of documents and books that date back to the

1. Linda Paterson is one of 100 people who have dedicated themselves to restoring the church and its surroundings. 2. Water dammed upstream from the church burst through in a torrent, leaving a trail of destruction. 3. Normal services were cancelled after the flood, the congregation meeting in homes when they could. 4. The 1920 church was designed by Hawke’s Bay architect WP Finch. 5. Interior images taken immediately after the flood.

“This church was built out of adversity and born from the generosity of people of this community, and once again it is a symbol of people coming together in adversity”

church’s founding weren’t in the building at the time of the flood but were safely stored at church trustee Christabel Handley’s place.

Christabel, another descendant of Thomas Clark, inherited the care of the records when her mother passed away. Among them is a copy of the original register, which included records of marriages, funerals, christenings and Christmas, Easter and Anzac services.

There were other lucky breaks. The christening font, for instance, survived intact. The stained-glass windows, which includes one in honour of Thomas and Annie that was dedicated at the 60th anniversary, were also undamaged. And the church suffered no structural damage, thanks possibly to

earthquake strengthening work that had been completed around eight years earlier, according to Christabel.

Cyclone Gabrielle was not the church’s first brush with potential disaster. It suffered damage during the Hawke’s Bay earthquake of 1931 and was closed for seven months. Then on Anzac Day 1938 the Esk River burst its banks and flooded 9000 hectares, “turning one of the most picturesque and valuable farming districts in New Zealand into a desolate waste”, according to a contemporary report. When the waters receded, the church was surrounded by a high bank of silt.

It reopened then and will reopen again. An Anzac Day service was held in 2023,

1. It was an emotional day when the first of the restored church pews were carried back into the church. 2. Altar detail.

3 & 4. A few of the church’s historic documents, bibles and hymn books have been saved, but many were beyond repair.

5. Board members Mike Lee, Christabel Handley, John Dransfield, Chris Lamb, Linda Paterson and Tom Clark.

the crowd squeezing between piles of silt and the flagpole, and a carol service was held in mid-December. Regular services will resume later in 2024.

At press time there was still plenty left to do, however. The grounds still needed to be tackled, including a badly damaged roadside wall and lychgate. (The church has received a grant from the Anglican Mission’s Cyclone Gabrielle response project Hāpaitia to help with grounds’ restoration and replanting.) Linda was looking forward to getting the carpet, pews and altar back inside. “Then it will start to look like it used to.”

Beyond the gates, the Esk Valley is still reeling. Some families have left for good, and those staying will have to live with a long period of rebuilding, replanting and repair. Tom Clark says that on windy days, silt blows in clouds through the valley.

“It covers everything, gets everywhere, and that will happen until it is grassed over or planted.”

Given all that, the church’s official reopening is likely to be a significant milestone for people beyond the small

coterie of regular worshippers. Linda gave a short speech on Anzac Day.

“I said that this church was built out of adversity and born from the generosity of people of this community, and once again it is a symbol of people coming together in adversity,” she says, adding that the church’s difficult history also says something important to the valley about endurance. “It’s a very resilient church.”

Christabel Handley is of the same mind. “When I saw all those poor people in the valley who had lost everything, and the church was still standing, all I could think of was my great-grandfather and how the church was built as a memorial, but also as a beacon of hope for people,” she says. “It’s still there, for everybody.”

To see more of the Eskdale War Memorial Church, view our video story here: youtube.com/ HeritageNewZealandPouhereTaonga

The impossible dream

The firm behind more than 30 heritage projects in post-quakes Christchurch has worked alongside the city’s council to unveil a landmark restoration

WORDS: EMMA DANGERFIELD / IMAGERY: MIKE HEYDON

One of Christchurch’s true historic landmarks, the city’s Municipal Chambers was a hub for local politicians – and their debates and decisionmaking – from 1887 to 1924. Now it’s on the threshold of welcoming a new generation of residents, having been fortified through a major reconstruction to withstand whatever the next 100-plus years throws at it.

The city council outgrew the space and moved to its civic chambers on Manchester Street in 1924, and the building was occupied by the Canterbury Chamber of Commerce until 1987. It also housed the local tourist information centre until 2000, and officially opened as Our City O-Tautahi two years later.

After suffering extensive damage during the September 2010 earthquake, the Category 1 historic place was braced with steel girders to keep it upright. This saved it from almost certain collapse in the city’s devastating earthquakes the following

February, but it would remain braced and untouched for the next decade.

However, for the past couple of years this gem was hidden behind walls of protective wrapping to keep the elements out while an ambitious restoration project was being undertaken. Now the newly restored building has been unveiled and is ready for its next chapter – which comes with some significant and exciting developments.

The four-year project has been a labour of love for Sam Rofe, director of Box 112, the company behind the restoration.

Sam says the Christchurch City Council had been tremendously supportive, and invested in keeping some of its built environment for posterity, particularly following the “brutal demolition” of so many landmark buildings post-quakes.

“[The demolition] meant that what was left was much more precious. We started picking off buildings one-by-one, some listed, some not listed, some worthy of landmark heritage status, some of them industrial.

“All the buildings that Box 112 have been involved in – now over 30 – are commercialised, but the Old Municipal Chambers is different; it’s owned by the city.”

An offer was put to the council to form the City of Christchurch Charitable Trust, with Sam as chair, to care for the building.

A council grant of $10 million was received in 2020 (about half the council’s estimated cost) and work began, albeit with the unexpected hurdles of Covid-19, the building boom and scarcity of materials, labour shortages and inflation. The trust received a further $2 million, this time a loan, to complete the project and open the building this year.

1. For a couple of years the building was hidden behind scaffolding and protective wrapping.

2. Stained-glass windows and their original stone surrounds have been re-used where possible.

3. The intense restoration work included the construction of huge internal concrete walls.

4. Christchurch City Council is keen to ensure the landmark building will be enjoyed for years to come.

New Zealand’s first Queen Anne-style building, the Municipal Chambers courted controversy when first built for its intricate and elaborate decorative style and avant-garde flair. But it’s that flair that makes it so special today, and such a prominent historic building in the eyes of residents and international visitors to the city.

The restoration work was intense. Galvanised frames and huge concrete internal walls were built from inside the building, from foundations to apex, to which the facade of bricks was then attached. This rendered the building earthquake-proof while not disturbing any more of the intact exterior. The building’s original bricks and stone window surrounds were reused wherever possible, while others were made specifically for the restoration, as were roof tiles, which came from Australia.

Walking around the building now, it’s clear where old materials meet new; the colours have been left contrasting as a reminder of the chambers’ journey.

“We didn’t want to disguise the new bricks because they are all part of the rebuild story,” says Sam.

The building’s six chimneys, all slightly different from each other, were rebuilt from scratch, while modern technology in the form of 3D printing enabled prominent British artist Sir George Frampton’s damaged sculptures, adorning the outside of the building, to be reconstructed.

“There is a tremendous sense of civic pride and accomplishment, and it’s not commercial, it’s not about money, it’s about legacy …”

The trust has entered an agreement with the council for a 50-year peppercorn lease, with rental income from the ground floor and level two directed to maintaining the building so it’s not a drain on ratepayers.

Christchurch City Council Head of Parks Andrew Rutledge says the council was keen to enter the agreement because of the building’s historical, social and cultural significance – both locally and nationally.

“In a Christchurch context, the building is significant as a landmark within the city due to its location, architectural style, use of materials and history of public use.

“The council is delighted with the work to restore the Old Municipal Chambers and is looking forward to the community being able to enjoy this picturesque slice of Christchurch’s unique heritage from both inside and outside the building.”

Keen to see the chambers returned to its former glory, he and Sam are both excited about the future use of the space.

The original horseshoe table around which the city council once sat in the chambers will be on display, and the old vault – in which titles and the rates office were housed a century ago – will become part of

antique book dealer Bill Nye’s new shop. His former premises were destroyed in the 2011 earthquake, with many of his treasured books on Antarctica falling victim to the event.

“The adventure bookshop is a really crucial anchor tenant, right on the tourist route of Worcester Street,” says Sam.

And with two-thirds of the building to be taken up with commercial ventures, something rather wonderful is planned for the final floor: an Antarctic research legacy library with a view from its window of the Robert Falcon Scott memorial statue.

Sam explains the legacy library is a long-standing vision for Nye.

“There is a group of Antarcticans, all octogenarians now, who would love to see their collections housed, and I think it’s very appropriate to use this part of the building, with the Scott memorial driving us on.”

Along with books, photos and scientific materials, the display’s centrepiece will be a seven-metre replica of the James Caird – the life raft employed by Ernest Shackleton following the sinking of his ship, Endurance, during the treacherous Trans-Antarctic Expedition of 1914-17.

1. Sir George Frampton’s damaged sculptures adorning the outside of the building have been painstakingly reconstructed.

2. Existing roof tiles are placed alongside newly made ones to complete the decorative roof.

3. Old material meets new – colours have been left contrasting as a reminder of the chambers’ journey.

Captained by Frank Worsley, of Akaroa, the James Caird undertook a 1300-kilometre journey from Elephant Island to South Georgia, which is still referred to as one of the most heroic ocean voyages of all time. The success of the voyage and the crew’s survival were down to Worsley’s navigation prowess and determination.

Sam and many others share a desire to see Worsley’s incredible story told at the former Municipal Chambers.

“It’s a tale of heroism revealed under the most acute and miserable conditions any mariner has ever known,” says Sam.

“We plan to honour his memory here at ‘Our City’ – a true son of Canterbury – as funds and public support for the commissioning of a suitable memorial allow.”

Christine Whybrew, Director Southern Region for Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga, says it has been exciting to observe the work to strengthen and restore the former Municipal Chambers.

“It’s a significant building as an important design by Samuel Hurst Seager, and for its prominent location beside

the Ōtākaro Avon River. The public-private partnership model developed for this project is an innovative solution to expedite the work programme.

“The people of Ōtautahi Christchurch will be pleased to see this much-loved building reopened for safe occupation.”

With 33 projects around Christchurch already completed, there are only a few left for Box 112 – but Sam has plenty of appetite for more.

When he asked his team if they would be up for a similar project if it arose again, they signalled they were all on board.

“We have a sense of duty and are capable of completing these projects that are impossible dreams for a city that has run out of money.

“There is a tremendous sense of civic pride and accomplishment, and it’s not commercial, it’s not about money; it’s about legacy and the good work the city has done to protect it [since the quake].

“The council had faith that in the future someone might be able to do something, and here we are now.”

Images of Romantic Unions

Open 28 March - 23 June 2024

A selection of paintings and photographs depicting love and marriage in Aotearoa New Zealand from the 1800s to present day.

Free entry

Open Wednesday to Sunday 10am – 4pm

Te Whare Waiutuutu Kate Sheppard House

83 Clyde Road, Ilam

Christchurch

IMAGE: SAMUEL EVANS

Weaving joy

Tradition and innovation fuse in Wharenui Harikoa, a hand-crocheted wharenui that celebrates Māori culture and history and the power of communal art.

A groundbreaking project by Lissy (Ngāti Hineamaru, Ngāti Kahu) and Rudi (Waikato/Ngāti Pāoa, Ngāruahine) RobinsonCole – with contributions from artists in New Zealand, the US and Iceland – the creation of Wharenui Harikoa has taken more than 5000 balls of New Zealand wool since its inception in 2018.

The wharenui, which is nine metres deep, five metres wide and 4.5 metres high, features poupou and tekoteko reimagined in neoncoloured wool.

The artists note that the connected crocheted loops symbolise the intricate tapestry of stories and that the wharenui stands as a beacon of innovation, a bridge between generations, and a vivid reminder of the enduring beauty of toi Māori and tradition.

Technical data

• Camera: Apple iPhone 12

• Focal length: 4.2mm

• Aperture: f/1.6

• ISO: 500 • Exposure: 1/44

Wharenui Harikoa is on display at Waikato Museum until 17 March 2024.

poupou: wall pillars tekoteko: carved figure on the gable of a meeting house toi Māori: traditional Māori arts

WORDS: JACQUI GIBSON / IMAGERY: COURTESY OF NOA BLANKET CO

BLANKET STATEMENTS

A Tauranga couple draw on heritage, both personal and collective, to weave their award-winning take on the classic woollen blanket

They sell out in minutes but take months and, in one case the memory of a loved one, to make.

The woollen blankets are the creations of Tauranga couple Whakaawa (Ngāti Ranginui, Ngāti Maniapoto and Ngāti Kahungunu) and Joshua Te Kani (Ngāti Ranginui, Te Whānau-a-Apanui, Te Āti Haunui-a-Pāpārangi), designed and manufactured under their company brand, Noa Blanket Co.

The couple’s first collection was styled in homage to Whakaawa’s much-loved father, Huikākahu Brian Kawe, who unexpectedly passed away a month before the company’s launch in December 2021.

Te Toi o Ngā Rangi, for example, a lightweight lambswool blanket in the three-blanket collection, depicts Huikākahu’s passion for knowledge and spiritual enlightenment illustrated through traditional patterns such as poutama.

Another, called Te Kaupapa Hono, is inspired by traditional kaitaka and reflects Huikākahu’s community engagement work and ability to build relationships.

The collection’s largest heavyweight blanket, Te Whare o Te Whakaiti, meanwhile, celebrates Huikākahu’s modest nature and love of his wife, Wikitoria, and her Ngāti Kere ancestors in Pōrangahau, central Hawke’s Bay.

“Dad loved Mum’s people and the feeling was mutual,” explains Whakaawa, who is Noa’s creative director. “We wanted to somehow reflect that relationship in our first-ever collection — and to showcase Mum’s marae in Pōrangahau, where we so often hear her whānau speak fondly of Dad.”

In the end, Whakaawa and Joshua chose the pāpaka motif found in the design work of Te Poho o Kahungunu, the meeting house at Wikitoria’s marae, adding it to the blanket’s borders.

“Dad was a wonderful father, a respected leader and very engaged at all levels of the community,” says Whakaawa. “Noa’s first collection is our way of remembering him. We’re grateful we could create something beautiful from our sadness; to rebalance the loss with an offering from the heart.”

The collection, known as the Huikākahu collection, sold out in less than a day and the couple have since designed and manufactured another three limited-release collections – all of which sold out in minutes.

A woven-to-order collection, called Limitless, is now available for purchase year-round. In 2023 the range won two gold awards in the annual BEST Design Awards – one for best textile product and the other for best consumer product. It also picked up the silver Toitanga award.

Whakaawa and Joshua set up Noa Blanket Co in part to revive the lost tradition of giving gifts that can be passed from generation to generation. While the couple want to create precious keepsakes, they also want to create taonga that can be used and enjoyed every day, says Whakaawa. To convey this idea, they named their company Noa, meaning neutrality and free from restrictions.

“We’ve both been lucky to receive various taonga such as carvings and weaving from all over the world. But it is the enduring quality of wool and the heritage of woollen blankets, in particular, that really appeal to us.”

Woollen blankets played a major role in New Zealand’s history, says Joshua.

“They were traded for land. They became clothing for many of our people. New Zealand, at one point, had wool mills that produced woollen blankets for pretty much every household in the country.”

1. Uhi Tai, from the Limitless range. 2. & 3. Noa blankets are made from 100 percent pure New Zealand wool and draw on Māori designs.

“We’re grateful we could create something beautiful from our sadness; to rebalance the loss with an offering from the heart”

1. Whakaawa and Joshua Te Kani. 2. & 3. More blankets from the Limitless range. 4. Noa founder Whakaawa Te Kani has an eye for design and textiles, while Joshua Te Kani possesses extensive mātauranga Māori and a flair for sharing and applying that knowledge.

Both Whakaawa and Joshua also have family members who were, at some point, shearers, sheep farmers and station owners, giving them personal connections to the fibre.

“Whakaawa and I sat down together one day and asked ourselves: how do we bring back woollen blankets?” says Joshua.

The pair, parents to Frankie (11) and Taiki (9), decided the first step was to embark on a year of product research and development. Their goal was to find out where they could source raw wool and how to process it. They also wanted to understand the technology and engineering expertise needed to machine weave a custom-designed blanket.

Today, Whakaawa and Joshua source 100 percent natural wool from around a dozen farms throughout New Zealand. They work with Woolworks in Napier to scour their wool and Woolyarns in Wellington to spin it into yarn.

Noa wool is then dyed and woven on a machine loom in Auckland, where it is washed, dried and milled to achieve the desired texture. Expert needleworkers provide the finishing touches and add company labels before a final collection is shipped to Tauranga for sale and distribution. Joshua estimates it takes between five and six months to complete a collection from initial design to launch.

This year, after 10 years as a communications and media consultant, Joshua became a full-time Noa employee, responsible for the stories behind each collection. He joins Whakaawa, also full-time and formerly in retail, and two part-time colleagues, Hana and Kelly, who look after social media and marketing respectively.

Matariki, self-determination and peace are just some of the narrative themes captured in the design, colour choice and textures of Noa blankets to date. One of their latest blankets explores the story of the kūmara as a metaphor for lessons of growth, development and environmental adaptation.

“In the design of our Te Raukūmara blanket, for example, you’ll see side borders decorated with rimurimu and karoro, both of which are known to fertilise the soils of kūmara gardens in coastal New Zealand environments,” says Joshua.

Surely, though, after putting so much aroha and work into each blanket, it must be hard to see them go out the door?

“Not at all,” he says. “That’s because the customers who buy our blankets are beautiful people.

“We know that because they get in touch to tell us who they are and why they want to go on our database to hear about the launch of the next collection. They often talk about the special person or occasion they’re buying for. Some have even shared the heartbreak they’ve felt when they missed out.”

Ultimately, he and Whakaawa want anyone who buys a blanket to add their own narrative to it over time.

“In 20 years, we’ll be over the moon to hear someone say of a Noa blanket: ‘Our koro used this blanket when he fronted up to the Waitangi Tribunal.’ Or ‘This is the blanket we wrapped around your brother’s shoulders when he was a baby.’”

kaitaka: prized flax cloaks with tāniko ornamental borders

karoro: seagulls

poutama: stepped pattern

rimurimu: seaweed

tikanga: cultural protocol

Makere Rika-Heke, Kaiwhakahaere Tautiaki

Wāhi Taonga at Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga, believes the couple are playing an important role in the preservation of mātauranga Māori around the textile culture, the ongoing revival of Māori arts, and the continuation of tikanga around gifting taonga.

“We read patterns, symbols, pigment with our hands,” says Makere. “These taonga are rooted in our past, they acknowledge connections and relationships with one another, carry our stories and convey respect, honour and recognition.

“In another sense they have a colonial overlay as trade items and symbols worn by Crown militia, so embody the act of reclamation and reclaiming negative symbols and recasting them within a Māori context. Think of the tartan sported by iwi such as Waikato Tainui and its instant recognition, which is every bit as powerful as Taranaki iwi and their raukura – white feathers.”

The artists, she says, are adding more layers to the story of the New Zealand woollen blanket.

“They’re redefining the role it’s played in how our nation was built, what it means today and what it might signify in the future. And they’re presenting it both as high art and as something functional that all people, regardless of their culture, class or background, can use for warmth, comfort and a sense of belonging. To me, that’s a beautiful expression of inclusivity.”

WORDS: KIM TRIEGAARDT / IMAGERY: MIKE HEYDON

HIGH and dry

The Lyttelton Graving Dock – the older of only two working dry docks in New Zealand –is still hard at work today

The usually popular swimming event at Lyttelton’s 1915 New Year Regatta was a bust. Everyone was disgruntled because, annoyingly, there was a ship in their pool. However, the steamer Canopus was in its right place in Lyttelton’s graving, or dry, dock. It was there for repairs and took precedence over the swimmers.

After it opened in January 1883, the Lyttelton Graving Dock became a regular venue for school and club aquatic competitions until well into the 1950s. The Lyttelton Harbour Board graciously allocated space for the swimmers, even though the board itself was steadily reclaiming land around the port that was rapidly swallowing up the town’s swimming beaches.

It’s debatable whether Lyttelton really needed its graving dock at the time of its construction. However, these structures had become status symbols in the late 1800s, and once Dunedin (Port Chalmers) and Auckland (Auckland waterfront) had theirs, there were increasing calls for Canterbury’s booming harbour town to get one too.

Finally, on 26 January 1878, Lyttelton’s recently constituted Harbour Board, which had replaced the Provincial Council, approved a recommendation for the construction of a graving dock.

1. DGI Morgan Marine staff clean the dock floor prior to the FV Independent undocking. 2. Operations & Marine Manager Gary Webb undertakes hull anodes inspection. 3. Staff access the dock using temporary removable stairs alongside the original stairs.

“It’s the same process for us now as it was for the crew of Terra Nova when [Robert Falcon] Scott’s ship was in here”

Shipwright Nick Hughes, who performs repairs and maintenance on vessels at the Lyttelton Graving Dock today, is reminded of this 141-year heritage underfoot every day.

“The massive stone foundation blocks are the same, the altar steps haven’t changed and the same pumps are there. It still takes four-and-a-half hours to empty the dock,” he says.

Designed by Charles Napier Bell, the dock was the largest construction project the citizens of Christchurch had ever seen. Ware & Jones, which had recently completed Auckland’s new dock, was appointed the contractor and kicked off the project with 20 men equipped with picks and shovels.

Documents show that at the peak of construction, 300 men were employed on the site, and 20 tonnes of gunpowder and three tons of dynamite were used for blasting down the cliffs around Naval Point. In the dock itself about 20,000 tonnes of concrete had to be manufactured and nearly 8825 square metres of basalt brought in from Port Chalmers and Melbourne. An extra 15 metres in length was added mid-way through the project to make the dock longer than the one at Port Chalmers.

Finally, four years after building started, with bunting hung from every flagstaff in Lyttelton and following the boom of a 17-gun salute by the Lyttelton Naval Brigade, Acting Governor His Excellency Sir James Prendergast formally declared the Lyttelton Graving Dock open. The SS Hurunui sailed in, breaking a blue ribbon across the entrance and marking the start of celebrations that included a banquet for 700 guests. The date was 3 January 1883.

Now owned by the Lyttelton Port Company, the Lyttelton Graving Dock remains the older of only two working dry docks in New Zealand. The other is the Calliope Dock at the Devonport Naval Base in Auckland, which opened in 1888.

Dr Christine Whybrew, Director Southern Region at Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga, says Lyttelton’s dock has earned its place on the List as a Category 1 historic place by virtue of its technological, historical and social significance as a major engineering project of late 19th-century New Zealand.

“I visited the graving dock recently and was very impressed with Lyttelton Port Company’s good care of this significant heritage asset,” says Christine. “It’s very special as a piece of Victorian infrastructure still in daily use for its designed purpose.”

Nick agrees that the daily work carried out at the dock remains much the same as ever: “The lineworker standing on the ship throwing mooring ropes to the crew on the side of the dock still needs the same good timing. We watch the pilot boat or tug nudge the ship into the dock and then need to be ready to drop the ropes over the bollards so we can tighten them and stop the ship. It’s the same process for us now as it was for the crew of Terra Nova when [Robert Falcon] Scott’s ship was in here.

“We’re the brakes. You never want to be the person who didn’t stop the boat from crashing into the front of the dock. That hasn’t changed in nearly 150 years.”

As expected for a structure nearly 150 years old, there have been a few changes over the years.

The brick pump house building first lost its large chimney after a quake in 1931, and just weeks after the deadly Canterbury quakes in February 2011, Lyttelton Port Company demolished the rest of the building, citing safety concerns, and replaced it with a two-storey timber structure.

Other changes include new electric motors to drive the pumps, and new concrete dock blocks, on which the ships’ hulls sit, to replace worn timber ones. The massive iron caisson imported from Glasgow that acts as a giant plug across the dock entrance lasted an impressive 100 years before it was replaced in 1998 with a new steel one manufactured in Timaru.

Retired dockmaster Bill Sanders, who worked at the dock for nearly four decades, remains impressed with the original brickwork that is still in place around the circular culverts that drain and flood the docks. “It is a work of art,” he says.

Despite occasional debate over whether the dock is necessary or not, Bill says, the structure has survived well and is quite serviceable. And the fact that there is a five-year waiting list to get a vessel in for maintenance and repairs is a sure sign that the dock is holding back the tides of time.

To see more of the Lyttleton Graving Dock, view our video story here: youtube.com/ HeritageNewZealandPouhereTaonga

SOME HISTORIC MOMENTS FROM THE LYTTELTON GRAVING DOCK’S PAST

Five months after the clipper SS Hurunui celebrated being the ribbon-breaking first vessel in the dock, it collided with and sank the SS Waitara in the English Channel with the loss of 25 lives. Twenty-one years later, in April 1915, sailing under a Russian flag and renamed Hermes, the vessel was sunk by a German U-boat in the English Channel.

The dock played host to the four famous ships that symbolised the heroic era of Antarctic exploration. Captain Robert Falcon Scott’s Discovery, Morning, Terra Nova and Nimrod all spent time in the dock for surveys and overhauls, including getting the rigging in “first-class order” before the ships set out to take their place in the history books.

For a few days, the dock provided a temporary home for some king penguins, brought back by Scott’s Discovery in 1904, before being relocated to the Canterbury Acclimatisation Society’s Gardens (now the Christchurch Botanic Gardens).

On one occasion after the graving dock was pumped out, among the large shoal of fish left behind was a mammoth six-kilogram trout. Hotelier RW Grantham caught the fish and put it on public display in the Royal Hotel.

‘Graving’ is related to an Old English word, grafan, meaning to dig or scrape. n

1. FV Independent is undergoing 2½ years of antifouling paint renewal and mechanical work. 2. Crew help to pull the anchor chain back on board.

3. The brick wall foundation for the historical pump house showing damage from the 2011 earthquake. This is now inside the new pump house building.

4. Dry Dock Master Diolito Abarratigue demonstrating how the manual winch works. 5. Diolito demonstrates the slipway winch.

WORDS: ANNA DUNLOP

A PERFECT SHOT

At its peak, 100 trains departed Dunedin Railway Station each day, taking thousands of passengers to Mosgiel, Port Chalmers, Invercargill and beyond. When it was built, the station was New Zealand’s busiest, and its lavish design reflected a growing prosperity and confidence in the railways, which were undergoing a period of rapid expansion.

Today the building has lost none of its wow factor. Looming majestically over the manicured gardens of Anzac Square, Dunedin Railway Station has undergone a three-year, $7 million restoration. And following the much-anticipated removal of the scaffolding in September last year, a clean, bright facade – certainly worthy of what is thought to be New Zealand’s most photographed building – was revealed.

Considered New Zealand’s most photographed building, Dunedin Railway Station is again ready for its close-up 1

The project was undertaken in recognition of the historical and architectural significance of the building – a Category 1 historic place and a Tohu Whenua (a place that has shaped our nation and tells its stories) – and to preserve it for the future.

It was commissioned by the Dunedin City Council (DCC) – owner of the building since 1991 – after a detailed survey highlighted areas of deterioration and the need for substantial maintenance. Anna Nilsen, DCC Group Manager

Property Services, says it was important that the architectural integrity of the building be maintained without compromising its historical aspects.

“We strived to retain as much of the original building fabric as possible and only replaced components that were irreparable or too significantly deteriorated to be saved.”

With this strong focus on conservation repair, a team of skilled (and, where possible, local) tradespeople was vital. Salmond Reed Architects and Naylor Love were engaged as the lead contractors (the latter received a Bluestone Award from Southern Heritage Trust for its work on the project), and they assembled a group of talented subcontractors. These included stonemasons Wainwright & Hickey, metalworkers Allan’s Sheetmetal & Engineering Services, roofers John Meegan Roofing, lead worker Michael Sinclair, mastic asphalters National Waterproofing, and painters Wrens Painting, Decorating & Tiling Services.

For Wrens’ senior painter, Wayne Pennington, it was another chance to work on this special building, after having painted the windows and doors in their signature red, cream and green livery during the 1990s.

“Employing skilled craftspeople and restoration experts ensured that period-appropriate materials, techniques and moulds were utilised,” says Anna.

Sarah Gallagher, Area Manager Otago Southland for Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga, agrees:

“The project provided some incredible opportunities for tradespeople to work on a unique building requiring bespoke solutions.”

The project was divided into three stages: first, the northern single-storey addition; second, the northern half of the main building, including the northwest corner turret; and third, the southern half of the main building, including the clocktower.

Work began on stage 1 in 2020, and according to Phillip Hartley, Senior Associate at Salmond Reed Architects, it was important to “start small”.

“The one-storey addition has several features also found on the main section, which meant the contractors could get to understand the building.”

Phillip’s comment points to the complexity of the station’s architecture. It was designed by New Zealand Railways’ chief draughtsman George Troup, an architect well known for his elaborately decorative style (which earnt him the nickname ‘Gingerbread George’), and its ornate Flemish Renaissance style cemented its reputation as one of Aotearoa’s most impressive buildings.

The station’s central hall features a stained-glass window depicting locomotives, and a mosaic floor fashioned from around 750,000 Minton tiles, which is flanked on either side by long wings. These wings, once busy waiting rooms, now house various local businesses, including Cobb & Co. restaurant, the New Zealand Sports Hall of Fame and the Otago Art Society. The platform, which at the time of opening was the longest in the country, now sees Dunedin Railways’ trains – The Seasider,

1. The restoration project focused on conservation repair, with much of the original building fabric retained.

2. The station’s ornate Flemish Renaissance style makes it one of the most impressive – and photographed –buildings in New Zealand.

Imagery: DunedinNZ

The Inlander and The Victorian – chug in and out throughout the summer months.

The station was built from Kokonga basalt (taken from a Central Otago quarry opened specifically for the station’s construction), with cream Oamaru stone detailing providing a striking contrast to the black rock. The roof is fitted with Marseille terracotta tiles and features five ‘domes’: a central domed turret in the middle of the main building and two smaller domed turrets on either side, all featuring tall finials; and upper and lower domes on the clocktower.

Phillip says these domes proved one of the most challenging aspects of the restoration.

“The domes are very important because they are the most significant feature above the roof line.”

The two smaller domed turrets on the main building were clad in zinc lozenge (diamond-shaped) tiles around the base, with a zinc-clad cupola roof. The base of the central domed turret was also clad in zinc lozenge tiles, while its cupola roof featured zinc fishscale (oval-shaped) tiles laid in diminishing courses – the largest tiles being at the base of the dome and the smallest at the top. The zinc had been painted verdigris (a blue-green colour) to replicate aged copper.

Strangely, says Phillip, the two domes on the clocktower were tiled in copper fish-scale tiles rather than zinc. “We have no idea why the building had two different materials.”

These were also laid in diminishing courses and painted verdigris.

“The copper tiles had survived, so we stripped the paint off and refixed them in their original layout,” he says. “However, the zinc tiles, cladding and finials

1. The minute hands on two clock faces were replaced, while the capitals were recarved and reinstated.

Image: DunedinNZ

2. Many of the roof’s terracotta tiles were cleaned and reused; the rest were sourced from the original manufacturer in France.

3. Manufacturing and installing the copper tiles of the roof domes was one of the most difficult parts of the restoration.

Imagery: Samuel White

4. One of the station’s carved lions watches over Anzac Square Gardens.

Image: DunedinNZ

on the three smaller domed turrets had oxidised and were disintegrating, so they had to be replaced.”

Research by Andrew Barsby (formerly of Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga, now Origin Consultants) revealed that the lozenge and fish-scale shape of the original tiles matched those supplied by Sydney-based company Wunderlich – but unfortunately they had been discontinued.

“These were tile shapes that I’d never undertaken in New Zealand,” says Phillip. “Yet Dunedin is a special place with a lot of very talented craftspeople.”

In stepped Allan’s Sheetmetal & Engineering Services – conveniently based just behind the station. Metalworker Greg Pritchard says copper was selected to make the new tiles for its durability and to match the clocktower domes.

“The two different tile shapes required different processes: the lozenge tiles were folded, while the fish-scale tiles were pressed using wooden dyes that we had made.”

Greg says installing the fish-scale tiles was one of the most difficult parts of the job, along with

3

recreating the finial on the central domed turret. “It was made of a series of hand-formed, lathe-spun copper shapes – which we also created using wooden dyes – as well as hand-beaten spheres.”

He adds that seeing the finial and fish-scale tiles restored was the most rewarding aspect.

“It was the first heritage building I’d worked on, and we were doing something that hadn’t been done for 120-odd years. I had to learn on the job, but I love challenging myself, so I was in my element.”

The roof was another significant part of the restoration. Around 75 percent of the original Marseille terracotta tiles were salvaged, with the reusable ones carefully removed, cleaned and used to re-cover the roof of the single-storey addition, as well as the main building’s west-facing roof slopes and dormer and north- and south-central gable roof slopes. Phillip says it was an important conservation decision.

“Visitors looking at the front of the building are still seeing the original roof tiles,” he says.

To replace the 25 percent that were too degraded to be reused, 15,000 Marseille terracotta tiles in two finishes – plain and aged – were sourced from Terreal, the original manufacturer in France.

Terry Shearstone of Naylor Love says these were fixed to the south and east roof slopes – the areas less visible to the public.

“We used a ratio of one aged tile to two plain tiles; using this pattern produced a look similar to that of the salvaged tiles, which are all different colours due to their age.”

“I haven’t worked on another project that has been quite so special to the local people”

The three wrought-iron weathervanes, which feature a central spire with decorative scrolls around the base, were also restored and revealed a surprise: when stripped of their paint, gold leaf was uncovered. Allan’s Sheetmetal dismantled the vanes and reassembled them with ball bearings, allowing them to move in the wind. To replicate the original gilding, a topcoat of gold-coloured paint was applied.

“The weathervanes are spectacular and it’s a special achievement that after all these years they are now operating,” says Phillip.

Other important details were also painstakingly restored: two old timber flagpoles, including the one on the clocktower, were refurbished, while two that had been removed were replaced in modern stainless steel; the minute hands on two of the clocktower clock faces had to be replaced and weighting was crucial for the mechanism to function properly.

The stonework also received a spruce-up (the masonry had last been restored during a two-year project in the mid-1990s, which concentrated on cleaning and repairing the Oamaru stone). This time, the hardwearing basalt was in good condition, and repairs to the Oamaru stone were mostly confined to deteriorated edges of cornice mouldings and ledges.

According to Marcus Wainwright of Wainwright & Hickey, there was some challenging carving involved.

“The capitals [the top parts of columns] on the clocktower were eroded, so they were removed, recarved and reinstated,” he says.

Marcus says he was struck by the sheer scale of the building. “We knew we were working on a very significant landmark,” he says.

Terry adds: “I was approached by many members of the public asking about the restoration work. I haven’t worked on another project that has been quite so special to the local people.”

Sarah says this interest in the restoration work illustrates just how much the community treasures the building.

“In a city where we have many examples of stunning architecture by notable architects, this building holds its head high as one of our most significant and most recognisable locally, nationally and internationally.”

One community hub particularly enjoying the newly restored building is Otago Farmers Market, which has been hosted in the station’s northern carpark every Saturday for the past 20 years. Market manager Michele Driscoll says it is a privilege to have such an iconic backdrop for the event.

“We particularly love being able to showcase on the working platform some of our smaller local Otago businesses and innovative vendors.”

For Anna, the importance of Dunedin Railway Station to the people of Ōtepoti Dunedin can’t be overstated.

“It’s an iconic symbol of the rich cultural history of Dunedin and holds a special place in the hearts of its residents,” she says. “I’m thrilled that the restoration has brought its unique, intricate architectural details back to life for future generations to enjoy.”

As rural populations have dwindled and socialising habits have changed, many once proud hotel buildings have fallen into disrepair. But in Northland, a number of hotels are bucking that trend

Masonic Hotel, Rawene

Not too far from the country’s oldest hotel, the Hōreke Hotel, you’ll find another one of the longest-running public hotels in the Far North, namely Rawene’s Masonic Hotel.

Rawene has a reputation as the tourist gateway to the Hokianga, and the large, two-storey kauri hotel sits in a prime location on a prominent site on Parnell Street in the middle of town.

Built in 1879 and backing onto the Hokianga Harbour, this Category 2 historic place has operated as a hotel for around 140 years, undergoing a number of alterations and additions since its inception.

Owners David Truscott and Gaynor Revill purchased the Masonic six years ago after completing another Rawene restoration project, The Wedge. That building, located on the corner of Clendon Esplanade, was a former 1940s joinery workshop and has housed several occupants over the years, including former New Zealand prime minister David Lange, who rented it as office space while working as a lawyer.

David and Gaynor (who have backgrounds in architecture and urban design) are now working to complete the Masonic’s restoration in two stages, with plans to restore the original face of the hotel and undertake extensive interior work.

“Our vision for the hotel is still some way off, thanks to our need to comply with the new fire regulations, so it’s definitely a marathon, not a sprint,” says David.

“While we work on renovating, the hotel continues to be well used by the local pool club, which has been running out of here for decades, so we want to ensure that continues.

“The future of this hotel will be in the accommodation, which we will transform from the traditional 12 bedrooms and four shared bathrooms into larger bedrooms with ensuites.”

The couple see the rich Māori and colonial history of Rawene as a drawcard for tourists, especially those interested in heritage.

Since finishing the internal fire staircase, they’ve focused on renovating the back of the building; once that work is complete they’ll start on the hotel’s facade. So far they’ve managed to retain the building’s original design and as many materials as possible – using the old sarking to make a new timber staircase, for example.

Gaynor says the renovation has given them an insight into how trends and attitudes around hotels have evolved.

“My favourite part of the hotel is the fantastic view of the harbour from the back deck,” she says. “It’s interesting that the hotel’s former design had no windows at the back, because in the past people would go outside to see the view.

“We’ve been working on improving the building by adding new windows in the right style, which will allow people to enjoy views of the water from their rooms. It just goes to show how people’s habits have changed.”

1. The historic Masonic Hotel in Rawene.

2. Masonic Hotel owners Gaynor Revill and David Truscott.

3. The new timber internal staircase.

4. Concept plans for the hotel’s restoration.

5. The Masonic Hotel back in the 1800s.

Central Hotel, Dargaville

Guests of another, more other-worldly kind come with the territory for the owners of Dargaville’s Central Hotel.

Built in 1876 in the kauri logging and shipbuilding era, it’s located directly opposite the mighty Northern Wairoa River and on the corner of Dargaville’s Victoria and Edward Streets.

Owned by Paul and Brenda Jackson and run by their adult children Wade and Elleigh, the hotel offers a convenient place to stay in the heart of town – including for a few resident ghosts, according to Brenda.

The long-term hotel guests from ‘the other side’ can allegedly often be heard banging glasses on the bar or rumpling up bed linen.

“We didn’t know about the ghosts when we bought this property, but the house we were living in was also a heritage house,” she says, “so that had stuff going on in it all the time.”

The family moved to Kaipara in 1991 and settled in Kaiwaka before moving to Dargaville in 2000. A former nurse, Brenda had never owned a hotel before but recognised a local pub could provide a safe space, particularly for men.

“I remember reading an article about how the closure of rural pubs had had a big impact

“I remember reading an article about how the closure of rural pubs had had a big impact on the mental health of people living in those communities … It’s important to get out and socialise in a safe environment”

on the mental health of people living in those communities. I found that very interesting and it made sense that when these pubs closed, people had nowhere to go to get off the farm,” she says.

“It’s important to get out and socialise in a safe environment.”

Brenda says not much had been required to modernise the hotel, and it’s been retained to the same standard as when they first purchased it. A Category 2 historic place, it has a range

of single and double rooms, which come with access to a guest lounge and counter meals.

And Brenda says she, like many others, is far from deterred by the ghost stories. “It’s not spooky. I’ve been here by myself many times and even though I’ve seen a few lights flashing, I’ve never been afraid,” she says.

“Quite a few people do come here and want to stay the night in a ghost room, and we’re also listed on the HauntedAuckland.com list of haunted hotels.”

1. Dargaville’s Central Hotel.

2. An interior view of the Central Hotel.

3. Owner Brenda Jackson with her son and manager Wade Jackson.

4. The Central Hotel has a guest lounge and offers counter meals.

5. The owners have retained the hotel to the same standard as when it was purchased.

6. The Central Hotel features on a list of New Zealand’s haunted hotels.

Hikurangi Hotel

‘The Hika’, or Hikurangi Hotel, is another Northland hotel that’s been the focal point of its town’s social life through the decades.

Located on the main street of Hikurangi, just north of Whangārei, the Category 2 hotel was built in 1882. It is connected to the early growth and development of the town and considered a well-maintained example of late 19th-century hotel architecture.

Hash Singh has owned the property since 2004 and says his love of old buildings drew him to the red and white hotel. While it is getting on in age, he says, the venue is still a much-loved part of the community.

“The Hikurangi Hotel is the heartbeat of the town, and if it wasn’t here people would get really upset!” he says. “It’s a place where people can jump in for a drink when passing by and is a well-known drinking hole for locals.”

Bill Edwards, Area Manager Northland for Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga, says hotels are an important thread in the fabric of Northland’s history and it was exciting to see the revitalisation of some iconic hotels in the region.

“All these people have different experiences – that’s what makes this interesting, because you can see the different ways of doing business in these hotels and what they’re up to,” he says.

“From a heritage perspective, it’s fantastic that these hotels have survived, especially because a lot of the original materials, like kauri and [other] certain timbers, can no longer be obtained. More importantly, it’s the stories that go with these buildings and the history and how they relate to the communities that make them so important.”

Maintenance, however, is an ongoing issue. Hash, who also owns the Omakau Commercial Hotel in Central Otago, says the Hika was in extreme disrepair (among other things, its

“The Hikurangi Hotel is the heartbeat of the town and if it wasn’t here people would get really upset!”

main front supports were broken) when he purchased it and it had required more work than anticipated.

To help with restoration and repairs, Hash successfully applied for two grants, totalling $80,000, from the National Heritage Preservation Incentive Fund. The funding paid for a full set of plans to be drawn up, electrical work, cleaning around the side of the hotel, and conservation and building of the front veranda and pillars.

The lounge bar, bistro and accommodation, however, have been closed since 2010, due to their need for an upgrade, while the public bar and bottle shop remain open, and Hash says he might soon pass the project on.

“I’ve spent hundreds of thousands of dollars already bringing this hotel to a high standard,” he says. “Because of the new fire regulations, we’re still working through getting compliance for the accommodation.

“I’m 57 years old now and have owned this for 20 years, and I’m happy with how I’ve upgraded it to a better condition than what it was. I don’t want to sell it to just anyone because it’s a heritage building, but I think it might be time for someone else to take over.”

1. ‘The Hika’ is a source of pride for the Hikurangi community.

2. The public bar and bottle shop remain open although the lounge bar, bistro and accommodation have been closed since 2010.

3. The hotel is a popular meeting place.

A concrete solution

WORDS: LYDIA MONIN

Could a technology stretching back millennia hold solutions for the future of one of the world’s most ubiquitous construction materials?

Right on cue, as we stood beneath the oculus in the Pantheon, there was a sun shower, and at that moment there wasn’t a better spot on the planet to be standing – in one of the world’s greatest ‘leaky buildings’, which still stands proudly in the heart of the Eternal City.

The oculus (pictured), a massive hole in the roof of the Pantheon’s dome, is a symbol of unwavering faith in the gods and in Roman engineering, acting as an entrance to the heavens above while playing a crucial role in keeping the building upright. (The very top of the dome would be its weakest point; however, the oculus lightens the load.)

Schools and hospitals in Britain are in the grip of a crumbling concrete crisis and New Zealanders know a thing or two about leaky buildings, but 2000 years ago the Romans built a temple topped with a 43-metrehigh dome made of unreinforced concrete with a large hole in the middle that stands tall and stable to this day.

So, armed with a seemingly endless supply of slaves and some pretty flimsy health and safety regulations, how did the Romans manage to master the art of concrete construction where so many have failed in the millennia since? It’s a question that has vexed engineers through the ages, but finally the Roman concrete code may have been cracked.

‘Riddle solved’ was the headline trumpeted in an article by the Massachusetts Institute of Technology’s publicity outlet, MIT News.

A team of researchers from MIT, Harvard University and laboratories in Italy and Switzerland had homed in on the little white granules in Roman concrete called lime clasts. Until then, those lime clasts had been thought to be the result of poor quality control.

But that explanation bothered Admir Masic, MIT Associate Professor of Civil and Environmental Engineering, who asked in the MIT News article: “If the Romans put so much effort into making an outstanding construction material, following all of the detailed recipes that had been optimised over the course of many centuries, why would they put so little effort into ensuring the production of a well-mixed final product? There has to be more to this story.”

Admir and his team discovered that these lime clasts, far from being the result of sloppy mixing, were in fact a key ingredient that imbued concrete with a self-healing quality. When a crack appears in concrete and water flows into it, the water dissolves the lime clasts and they recrystallise, filling and repairing the cracks.

To prove their theory, the researchers created samples of hot-mixed concrete with modern and ancient concrete formulations, cracked them and ran water through the cracks. The samples containing lime clasts healed; those without lime clasts didn’t.

“The calcium-rich phases within the lime clasts remain stored until they are needed, thus potentially allowing the healing properties of these materials to persist over millennia,” wrote the research team in Science Advances

Until recently, it was thought that the durability of Roman concrete was down to a key ingredient: pozzolanic material, named after volcanic ash from the city of Pozzuoli in the Bay of Naples. This particular example of Roman ingenuity could be good news, not just for the environment but also for New Zealand.

Pozzolan-based concrete dominated for two millennia before portland cement, invented in 1824, became the key ingredient of concrete, largely because it set more quickly. But modern cement production now accounts for around 8 percent of global greenhouse gas emissions.

Recent scandals have highlighted the inadequacies of some modern concrete. RAAC, or reinforced autoclaved aerated concrete, was used in British schools, hospitals, housing blocks and other buildings

“If it costs the same and it’s got a better sustainability image and performance, it becomes a no-brainer”

from the 1950s to the mid-1990s. But it was only designed to last 30 years and now many of these buildings are at risk of collapse.

It’s clear the world needs cleaner concrete that lasts longer, so pozzolans are making a comeback. But the concrete industry is wary of change, says Jackson MacFarlane, who completed a Stanford University PhD on pozzolans and is now Group Sustainability Manager for New Zealand company Hynds Pipe Systems.

“[Those in the industry are] very risk averse because if something goes wrong, suddenly you’re rebuilding all these buildings and other things,” says Jackson.

“So they’re very averse to adopting a new technology until they’re really sure it’s going to work … they want to do what they’re doing more sustainably rather than bring in new sorts of technologies.”

Man-made pozzolans, such as fly ash from coal power plants and blast furnace slag from steel manufacturing, have similar properties to volcanic ash. Although they’re by-products of dirty processes, using them as partial cement replacements reduces carbon dioxide emissions. Demand for these pozzolans is outstripping supply, while natural pozzolans such as volcanic ash and clays are abundant but not yet widely used.

1. Scientists have long been fascinated by the durability of ancient Roman concrete in buildings like the Pantheon. Image: stock.adobe. com

2. A 2cm fragment of ancient Roman concrete, with a lime clast in red.

3. The archaeological site of Privernum, Italy, from where the fragment was collected.

Imagery: Courtesy of the researchers, MIT

Jackson says the carbon footprints of natural and man-made pozzolans are roughly the same, but the natural version brings with it a “nicer, wider sustainability lens. And I think that’s what a lot of councils and governments and those who are trying to put out a clean image are saying – that if we have something that’s a bit more natural, a bit cleaner, it’s going to help on the image side rather than just the carbon footprint side.

“Five years ago, sustainability was just about carbon footprints, and now it’s expanded and people consider sustainability to be about workplace sustainability, or cultural sustainability, the circular economy and waste. All of these things are being brought into it.”

A series of violent eruptions in the Taupō Volcanic Zone over the past one-and-a-half million years could help New Zealand produce greener concrete. Even in the past few thousand years, the region has been covered in layers of ash from eruptions. The ash is high in silica, which makes it ideal for use in concrete.

“Not all volcanoes will produce the right material. You need a big explosive eruption that produces a lot of ash and then you need to have that ash preserved. And the [Taupō Volcanic Zone] has a big history of big explosive eruptions,” says Jackson.

There was excitement about these natural pozzolans from the Taupō Volcanic Zone after they were used in the Waikato dam projects in New Zealand in the 1950s. They were hailed as a way of making concrete structures more resistant to cracks and corrosion, but interest waned due to the costs involved.

While researching his PhD in Italy, Jackson studied naturally forming rocks made from volcanic

ash that have a very similar chemical make-up to concrete made with the same ash, and he compared these natural rocks with Roman concrete.

“My research was about saying, ‘Well, we’ve got this global problem around concrete sustainability. We’ve got Roman concrete in this area that has survived for 2000 years. We’ve got the natural processes of the earth also making concrete. So what can we learn from both of these materials that could be taken and applied to modern concrete?’”

Modern concrete is usually strong, but without pozzolans it’s not as resistant as Roman concrete to harsh environments. Roman concrete took a lot longer to set and wasn’t as strong, so walls needed to be very thick, but it has lasted for millennia.

The future is a blend of ancient Roman and new techniques, says Jackson. He predicts that within a decade most New Zealand concrete will be made with some degree of natural pozzolans.

“Industrial by-products are getting more expensive and harder to get your hands on. Suddenly these alternatives are becoming cost competitive. If it costs the same and it’s got a better sustainability image and performance, it becomes a no-brainer.”

A century before the Pantheon was built, the Roman architect Vitruvius wrote the recipe for concrete (lime and pozzolana sand mixed with stone mass) in his magnum opus De Architectura Now, with the need to get hard-wearing, lightweight and environmentally friendly cements based on Roman ingredients and methods to market, that recipe might be set for a revival.

WORDS: ANNA KNOX

Rewi: Āta Haere, Kia Tere

Jade Kake and Jeremy Hansen

$75 HB (Massey University Press)

Rewi Thompson (Ngāti Porou, Ngāti Raukawa) was a quietly influential architect whose life was cut tragically short. His legacy is given its due by what has to be the most visually stunning book published in Aotearoa New Zealand last year.

Rewi: Āta Haere, Kia Tere, edited by Jade Kake and Jeremy Hansen, designed by Extended Whānau and published by Massey University Press, is a remarkable achievement in terms of book architecture. The intuitive and beautiful construction comprises interviews, drawings and archival material, some in brilliant colour – particularly Rewi’s favourite shockingpink – and succeeds beyond its own design in communicating not only Rewi’s biographical information, but something of the man himself.

While he would bristle at being called a Māori

architect, Rewi’s work and legacy are deeply steeped in Māori design principles, from his brilliant Ngāti Pōneke Marae scheme, which won him the Monier AAA Tile Award as a student, to his own home (his bestknown work), to health and corrections facilities in which he was the first to integrate features such as wharenui.

His contemporaries and his many grateful students (he was an adjunct professor from 2002 to 2015, and his pedagogical legacy is also tremendous) agree he led the way in embedded cultural design and was well ahead of his time in bringing a Māori framework to built heritage in this country. Along with Ian Athfield and Frank Gehry, he also submitted what “may be the country’s most tantalising unrealised building” for the Te Papa design competition in 1989.

Motifs recur in tukutuku-like patterns throughout the book. One of these motifs relates to Rewi’s idea that a building is not a permanent structure, but a temporary, albeit strong, presence in the land; that it has mauri and lives, and that it therefore also, one day, dies.

The Seasonwife

Saige England

$37.99 (Bateman)

The Seasonwife, an historical novel set in Sydney and the ‘Middle Island’ of Aotearoa in 1832, is something of a horror story for contemporary readers. Captain Robbie, “a hard man looking out for hard fellows and something else” cusses, drinks, steals a dead woman’s hair, abducts her daughter and son, rapes the former and doesn’t protect the latter from being raped, and ferries them all to New Zealand shores where he and his unmerry men hunt and kill whales and seals, and also humans, for the trade in tattooed heads.

From the local iwi, who at first welcome him, he also takes a “seasonwife” who, inevitably, is also raped and abused, though she is wilier and freer than her counterpart, the abducted Irish woman Bridie Murphy. When the two become friends, and Bridie discovers the enlightened ways of Manaia’s people as they help her recover from a violent trauma, the plot thickens, and revenge beckons.

Physical heritage in the book is well documented, with carefully researched detail, particularly around whaling settlements – delightful to readers with an appreciation for rich and authentically textured scenes. But anachronisms in language and behaviours, a dualistic worldview, and the lack of economic or political context compromise the storying of cultural heritage for Māori, English and Irish alike.

Blood & Dirt: Prison Labour and the Making of New Zealand

Jared Davidson

$49.99 HB (Bridget Williams Books)

“The imprint left by the incarcerated is all around us. We just need to know where to look,” writes Jared Davidson in the prologue to Blood & Dirt: Prison Labour and the Making of New Zealand. In the seven excellently illustrated chapters that follow, he directs our looking, tallying up the many roads, buildings, forests, and even prisons built by “unfree labour” in Aotearoa and throughout the Pacific in the 19th and 20th centuries.

From what is currently Wellington’s Te Aro School, where Harry Brown was buried alive in the clay, to pine forests rising out of bare dirt in the plantations of Hanmer, South Island, there is no question that the building and development of today’s New Zealand was shaped significantly by prison labour.

Jared’s documenting of this overlooked contribution is a vital and worthy task. Whether to bemoan or celebrate the prisoners’ labour, however, is another question.

The prologue promises a “bottom up” account. But while occasional anecdotes of individual prisoners are shared – such as the one about McLean and Williamson, horse thieves punished with hard labour who helped to rescue crew and passengers tipped overboard in Waitematā Harbour in 1894 – the book is ultimately a very thorough survey of works.

Conceptually academic (phrases like “the violence of archives” abound), the book is particularly interested in building a case against capitalism through cataloguing the products of prison labour; perhaps more so than in the prisoners’ lives. Even paid workers are described as “subjected to the discipline of the wage”.

Whether a reader will feel bolstered by or sceptical of Jared’s take will depend on how they regard a system in which prisoners work without market compensation – as is still the practice today, for example, in New Zealand’s free-range pork industry.

Regardless, “from seawalls to scenic gardens, prison labour is beneath our feet and before our very eyes … a heritage that profoundly alters our understanding of the environment and the processes that went into its making”.

Other titles of interest

An Indigenous Ocean: Pacific Essays

Damon Salesa

$49.99 HB (BWB)

Essays on the histories and peoples of the Pacific world by award-winning author, Rhodes scholar and interdisciplinary scholar Professor Toeolesulusulu

Damon Salesa.

Our Land in Colour Jock Phillips, Brendan Graham

$55 (Harper Collins)

Coffee-table book of the year. A stunning collection of 200 photographs transformed from black and white by Aotearoa

New Zealand’s premier colourist showing life as it was here from 1860 to 1960.

Rugby League in New Zealand: A People’s History

Ryan Bodman

$59.99 (BWB)

An unprecedented account of the game’s history, development and communities, as well as its place and influence in New Zealand’s cultural fabric.

Continuous Ferment: A History of Beer and Brewing in New Zealand

Greg Ryan

$65 (AUP)

The story of beer and brewing in Aotearoa from Speights to Parrotdog and beyond.

BOOK GIVEAWAY

Commune: Chasing a Utopian Dream in Aotearoa

Olive Jones

$39.99 (Potton & Burton)

A memoir of Olive’s life in the Graham Down’s commune, an alternative community on a farm in the Motueka Valley near Nelson in the 1970s and ’80s.

Thomas Gilchrist and Sons Limited of the Māniototo

Paula Wagemaker, Judy Beck, John Hellier

$54.95 (Quentin Wilson)

A beautifully produced volume telling the story of New Zealand’s longestrunning general store and the communities it serves.

Those Magnificent Voyagers of the Pacific

Rick Fisher, Andrew Crowe

$34.99 HB (Bateman)

An illustrated children’s hardback book telling the story of ocean-going navigation reaching back 5000 years.

Robert Lord Diaries

Edited by Chris Brickell, Vanessa Manhire and Nonnita Rees

$45 (Otago University Press)

The diaries of playwright, writer and founder of Playmarket, Robert Lord, reveal the dramatic contrasts between life as a gay man in 1970s and ’80s New York and provincial New Zealand.

Patu: The New Zealand Wars

Gavin Bishop

$40 HB (Penguin)

A large-format, stunning visual history of the New Zealand Wars of the 1800s, suitable for children and adults.

Knowledge Is a Blessing on Your Mind: Selected Writings, 1980–2020

Anne Salmond

$65 (AUP)

A collection of writings over 40 years – ffrom Hui and Eruera, through to The Trial of the Cannibal Dog to today’s debates about race and te Tiriti.

The Best Country to Give Birth? Midwifery, Homebirth and the Politics of Maternity in Aotearoa New Zealand, 1970–2022

Linda Bryder

$59.99 (AUP)

Historian of medicine Linda Bryder explores how New Zealand developed a unique approach to the role of midwives in childbirth in the 1990s.

My Aunt Honor

Gillian Torckler and Adele Jackson

$24.99 HB (Bateman)

A children’s hardback book about Honora Hassett (known as Honor), who joined the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force in World War II and became one of the first female aircraft engineers.

We have one copy of Rewi: Āta Haere, Kia Tere to give away. To enter the draw, send your name and address on the back of an envelope to Book Giveaways, Heritage New Zealand, PO Box 2629, Wellington 6140, before 30 March 2024. The winner of last issue’s book giveaway (Through Shaded Glass: Women and Photography in Aotearoa New Zealand 1860–1960) was Sue Cathro, Dunedin.

My heritage place

AS TOLD TO CAITLIN SYKES / IMAGERY: SKYE BONIFACE

Andrew Lees has stagecraft in his blood. The Royal New Zealand Ballet (RNZB) Head of Production was working in Australia before he followed his father, a theatre designer, across the ditch where the elder Lees was working at the Wellington Opera House. Andrew has now been a key RNZB team member for almost three decades, and here he shares some of his connections to the company’s home, Wellington’s Category 1 St James Theatre.

MAS TOLD TO CAITLIN SYKES / IMAGERY: SKYE BONIFACE

y first association with the St James was when I came to see the Royal New Zealand Ballet perform here in 1992 after I moved from Australia. Then two years later, I worked on The Rocky Horror Show here, and then Cats

That was all before it was renovated. I’d come from the Sydney Opera House where we had automated power flying and stuff like that, so it was a learning curve for me

to come over here and still have the old counterweights installed. We could put on three operas in a 24-hour period at the Sydney Opera House and it took us three days to get something on here. But it was great to be in that environment and just learn, old school.

When I first started dating my wife, she was with the ballet company. She said, “If we’re going to make a go of this, I think you should probably come and join the Royal

New Zealand Ballet.” So I thought, “I’ll give that a go”, and 27 years later I’m still here.

When I first joined the company, our studios were in the old Telecom Centre on Brandon Street, and they were very makeshift; it wasn’t purpose built. So in the late ’90s, when the opportunity came up to have our studios here, the company jumped at it. And for the first time we had purposebuilt facilities, which was fantastic.

Now, 22 years on, they’ve just been refurbished again. The production office

now sits within the theatre building, which it didn’t previously, and we’ve created a passageway from the dancers’ level to the theatre.

Now they can be practising in the studios and then be on stage, when the stage manager calls, in one or two minutes.

What does it feel like when we perform here? It’s our home. It’s where we set everything up and work out how we’re going to do things. It’s where we make the magic happen.

10% off all items for Heritage New Zealand Pouhere Taonga members

Bloom

Marigold Heritage

Meadow Heritage

Your free guide to discovering Kiwi heritage this summer