| SOUTH BANK DREAMING Laden with traces of its own past, South Bank is now one of Brisbane’s key public spaces. Louise Noble looks at the accumulated visions for a city.
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“I never forget that I am a Provincial.” Peter Cook, The London Effect, 1989.
Brisbane’s South Bank, despite its cheerful newness, has a many-layered past
and one that is worth recalling. With plans to extend this pleasure precinct to its western
edge at Kurilpa Point, it is timely to reflect on some of the processes that have informed
its creation. What does it say about contemporary urban culture in Australia and can we
learn from its experiences?
A particularly observant convict noted upon his arrival at the new found river colony,
“It looked as though some race of men had been here before us, and planted this
veritable Garden of Eden.” Brisbane was home to one of the most densely populated
regions of Aboriginal Australia and the low lying swamp lands of South Brisbane were
one of the habitual camping grounds of the Turrbal people. This north-facing riverbank
had a sandy beach named “maroochy”, or swimming, and was favoured for river
crossings. South Brisbane as a place of gathering and exchange for the Indigenous
communities was swiftly replaced, however, by the port of the fledgling colony.
Brisbane followed a pattern of occupation similar to many river cities, a north bank
devoted to government, administration and commerce and a south bank for the port and
trades of a more colourful description. Between the wharves and the interstate railway
station, built in the 1880s, were streets of sly grog and loose women, dance halls and
theatres, a place where local mixed with foreign. In keeping with the social geography of
the time, African-American servicemen in transit during the Second World War were not
permitted to cross the bridge to the more respectable northern shore.
Foundation Stones. The port was progressively disbanded to the mouth of the river
and, by the 1950s, South Brisbane was in serious decline. The construction of the new
Victoria Bridge in 1969 and the election of the Bjelke-Peterson government in the early
1970s marked the beginnings of a new era in the re-colonisation of a now dismal shore. A fitting symbol of this conquest was the decision to build the Queensland Art Gallery,
which aimed to be “a fine example of the art of architecture”. Robin Gibson and Partners won the two-staged design competition in April 1973. By late the following year the
design brief had evolved to become a cultural centre, including a new museum, theatre
complex and state library.
Prior to the completion of the concept design, Gibson undertook a government
sponsored study tour to visit galleries around the world – London, USA, Holland and
Scandinavia. During this trip he also visited the Teotihuacan archeological site in Mexico. A photo in his subsequent report shows a back-lit view of stepped terraces with a
mountainous backdrop. He noted the “marvellous enclosure of spaces for spectacles
(created) by the built pyramidal forms or the natural surrounds”. The relationship
between light, massive layered form and the surrounding landscape is certainly an
image one retains of these buildings viewed from the expressway on the opposite bank.
The buildings of the Queensland Cultural Centre, inaugurated successively from 1982
to the early 1990s, exhibit many of the characteristics of the modernist utopias in vogue
at the time of their conception. Parallels can be drawn between this project and Denys
Lasdun’s Royal National Theatre (1964-1976) and the Hayward Gallery (1968) on
London’s South Bank. In each of these, the separation of vehicular and pedestrian
circulation has proven problematic for the legibility of these buildings in the public realm
and is now the subject of reappraisal. Despite these shortcomings, the Art Gallery –
along with Harry Seidler’s Riverside Centre (1983-1986) – was arguably one of the first
civic buildings in Brisbane with public spaces that directly engage with the river. They
signalled a rethinking of the city’s relationship with its most remarkable feature.
Expo 88 and the Cultural Revolution. Brisbane underwent radical physical change
during the Joh Bjelke-Peterson years. The Gold Coast was booming and demolitioneers
were local media personalities. The urban landscapes of David Malouf were fast
disappearing as large sections of the CBD were replaced daily with high-rise, described
by visting architect Peter Cook as of a “crummy and jumped-up-quick quality”. Sir Joh
had big plans for the state, including the sale and redevelopment of the Botanical
Gardens, and nobody could stop him. Street marches were banned in Queensland in 1977, and police powers strengthened against “terrorism” in 1982 when Brisbane
hosted the Commonwealth Games. A successful bid for the 1988 World Expo followed
with the catchcry “Together we will show the world”.
When the State Government resumed 42 hectares of land with one kilometre of
riverfront under the 1984 Expo 88 Act, the locals in the surrounding West End were
justifiably apprehensive. Robin Gibson, amongst others, prepared a plan for the
redevelopment. Whilst on a sojourn as visiting professor to the University of Queensland,
Peter Cook completed a series of delightful drawings in response to the issues raised. Expo is used as “a trigger for a dwelling and working place that extends the downtown
and reinvests the river”. Connecting the two shores were a “thinned-down series of
Aussie-big-river bridges – the FANS”. The towers proposed were of two types: one
“sleek and styled, not dull and chunky… and the other a rack upon which can be hung
a series of updated and extended bungalows”. These drawings raised issues which are
still part of the debate concerning the future of the north bank of the river.
Expo 88 was a surprise to all and had a profound impact on the way Brisbane saw
itself as a city. The temporary architecture of the site, admirably designed by Bligh
MacCormack 88, comprised neutral steel shells for the exhibitors with huge tent-like
structures oversailing the site. These membrane surfaces were used for the projection of
images at night and the river was transformed to a giant stage. Suddenly Brisbane had a
promenade and a place from which to view the spectacle of the city. When the fair
packed up, this public space was something that the locals were determined to retain.
Plans to redevelop the site as a new commercial and residential “downtown”, with
hotels, a casino and convention centre, luxury canal housing and a river island, were met
with community outrage. The Fitzgerald Inquiry into Police Corruption was in full swing
and the government was looking rather pasty-faced. In May 1989, an interim premier
announced the formation of the South Bank Development Corporation, a body including
representation from both state and local governments and the business community, to
manage the redevelopment process and recoup the costs incurred in hosting Expo. The
corporation was vested with legislative powers above those of the Town Plan and had
authority to maintain control over the site through the creation of a new form of
government leasehold.
The “People’s Park”. A competition was held and, in August 1989, the winning
scheme announced. The Gold Coast based firm Media 5 (subsequently Desmond Brooks
International) won with the proposal for “the park in the buildings within the park”. Described in Architecture Australia as “the Penthouse suite of the city”, the project
reveals its weakness in section. Air-rights over the railway were to be sold, Grey Street
buried as a bus tunnel, and a new aerial “boulevard” would provide access to the luxury
condos that developers would scramble to provide. The riverside parklands were the
project’s appeal. Unashamedly populist, one can imagine the reaction of the jury,
“Bewdy! There’s a beach!”
Was Des Brooks magically responding to the genius loci, albeit in an ersatz form? South Bank has become a place of feasting and gathering, of face-painted children and
fireworks, an aspiration for the communality that our suburban cities crave. As Dr John
Macarthur noted in his excellent 1995 essay, “South Bank was intended to enact a
strategy of the capture by the centre over a populist culture of the periphery”. The
current chair of the South Bank Design Advisory Panel, Dr Cathrin Bull, argued in 1994
that it could be seen as “Brisbane’s Backyard”, an idealised resort landscape for a
population who could only dream of such luxury at home.
Four years after the inauguration of the parklands in 1992, development had stalled
despite the popularity of a theme-park riverfront. The costs involved in building an
elevated boulevard and the impracticalities of staging such infrastructure proved unattractive to investors. A change of government resulted in the appointment of a new
board and chairman in November 1996. A vision statement was prepared and the focus
of the corporation shifted from maximising development potential to an understanding of
the importance of excellence in design. With John Simpson as master architect, a design
advisory panel was created to assess all development proposals and, in early 1997,
Melbourne firm Denton Corker Marshall was contracted to prepare a new masterplan. DCM’s appointment was partly due to their urban planning experience in Canberra in the
early 1970s where they had experimented with contemporary reinterpretations of
traditional street patterns.
DCM and the Lifestyle Precinct. The DCM masterplan concentrated on improving
the connectivity of the precinct to the surrounding city fabric and the legibility of
movement within the parklands. Bill Corker advised the board that there was “nothing
that a bobcat and a chainsaw couldn’t fix”. Circulation was reinstated at grade, and
organised parallel to the river. The street, park and river spines, and the cross streets
were reopened to a neglected “hinterland” (as South Bank Corporation often describe
the surrounding West End area). An 800 space underground car park was proposed and
the parklands extended. Pedestrian access from the city was to be improved with a new
pedestrian and cycle bridge. The commitment of the board was essential to the success
of the masterplan as demolition was a major component of its strategy.
The reinstatement of Grey Street involved the definition of its space and form. Based
on a street width slightly less than the 30 metres of Collins Street in Melbourne, a four-storey
podium with ten storey mini-towers interfaces the railway line whilst articulated
and permeable four storey buildings manage the transition between street and park. Landscape elements control the quality of the public domain. A seven metre high steel
pergola is a contemporary version of a unified street facade which accompanies the
planting of low shade trees to the footpath and a median strip of tall Bunya (now Kauri)
pines. Standard issue Brisbane City Council street furniture and lighting were chosen to
improve integration with the surrounding environment.
The solutions proposed by DCM are undeniably intelligent. However, in the desire to
create a “great street” are we trying just a bit too hard? Caught somewhere between a
tree-lined “avenue” and a “boulevard” with median planting that is more than just a
strip, how much of Grey Street will be permanent? Will it also be edited in time? The
object-fabric of the “towers”, which have an undisputed appeal to investors, are a
departure from the horizontal arrangement of both the Cultural Centre and Cox Rayner’s
Convention and Exhibition Centre (1995) with their explicit references to the backdrop of
the d’Aguilar Ranges. It is questionable which is more appropriate.
The recent success of South Bank is a credit to the many design professionals
involved and the willingness of the corporation to reconsider previous decisions. This is
partly due to a CEO with extensive experience in major redevelopment projects and a
chairman who is seen as the home-grown Medici. The corporation has been extremely
proactive in the organisation of workshops and “talkfests” to generate dialogue between
the many players involved in the shaping of the urban environment. Professional awards
have been showered upon the project and it has done much to raise awareness in the
development industry of the importance of design issues.
History and Democratic Space. South Bank is laden with traces of its own history
– forgettable moments that insist on leaving rather embarrassing stains: the entrance to
Grey Street with edges that were designed for a bus tunnel; the 420 metre long
Convention and Exhibition Centre built over the only street with any direct connection to
West End; the now dislocated pink residential block which lost its luxury neighbours in
an election; historic buildings transformed into a Disney streetscape. The need to
somehow unite the collage of the parklands has been consecutively structured by a monorail (Expo 88), a canal (Media 5) and, finally, the Leunig-like tendrils of the
bougainvillea clad Arbour (DCM). Despite the recent spate of “cleansing”, South Bank
still resembles a shopping centre open till midnight. “Passive” recreation areas are
zoned in the parklands, as are places and times for drinking. The ambiguities between
public and private space are inherent in a project conceived in the age of corporatised
infrastructure. Is it a democratic space? Could it be described as the “People’s Park”? Is
South Bank growing up or just being gentrified?
Brisbane is not a city renowned for the quality of its public spaces. Street planting,
until recently, has been sporadic and most of its parklands are remnant low-lying areas
unsuitable for building but closely linked to an Indigenous past. They are typically places
of recreation rather than gathering. The beach, one could suggest, is the only form of
truly public space that many Queenslanders have ever experienced; Surfers Paradise,
with all its tawdry glamour, the only promenade. In a miniaturised and symbolic form,
South Bank represents the collective experience.
Do current projects at South Bank attempt to move beyond representation? Is
simulation the only real experience modern Australians are comfortable to consume? The nature of the parklands will change with the completion of the Queensland College
of Art campus, together with the new pedestrian and cycle bridge linking major tertiary
institutions, public parklands and transport nodes. The corporation has chosen to mix a
potentially volatile cocktail which should produce some colourful social theatre. It is
interesting to observe an evolving city adopt spaces in a manner its creators may not
have forseen. If the precinct manages to unleash a life which was not imagined, if
elements which are currently excluded can also find their place, South Bank could be
deemed successful.
Beaubourg Bricolage. The new Queensland College of Art building, by Bligh Voller
Nield/Donovan Hill, is nearing completion, the campus having relocated from suburban
Morningside to the very prominent South Bank. The brief required the reuse of a rather
dull office block and an understanding of the needs of the twelve rapidly changing user
groups, all on a sloping site with public frontages to both street and park. A slim 90
metre block accommodates the main studio facilities along the Grey Street edge while
tilt-slab volumes shape courtyard spaces, both public and service, to the park. In order
to link old with new, a metal hat is added to the buildings.
The studio areas are stripped of structure, services and circulation to ensure
maximum flexibility. Perforated aluminium sunscreens disguise “plugged in” services to
the street and generous access balconies, bridge links and a stair tower create an active
backdrop to the park. The main courtyard, formed by the tilt-slab theatre and gallery
building, opens to the Arbour Walk of South Bank and will provide a public forum for the
college. These low buildings, however, present an unfortunate metal roofscape to the
balconies and, despite the intention of layering, the Grey Street elevation appears closed
and thin to the pedestrian. Glimpses of the underlying complexities of a facade of
ducting and painted blockwork are revealed in the upper levels when viewing the
building from the Vulture Street corner, particularly at night. With a compositional logic of
bricolage, the building looks “tinny” compared to its neighbouring institutions. Perhaps
this is not such a bad thing for an art school; not too precious to appropriate.
Muddy Waters. Situated directly below the College of Art, and currently under
construction, is the new pedestrian and cycle bridge won in a limited design competition
by Cox Rayner. Its location involved lengthy consultations between government, tertiary
institutions, South Bank Corporation and private residents. Bridges, due to their ability to
colonise and modify the shores they link, are always a subject of debate. Big river
bridges even more so.
The South Bank Bridge is a somewhat scaled-up, more sophisticated version of the Cocks Carmichael Whitford pedestrian bridge across the Yarra (1989) with its stepping
stone island. The 450 metre length is divided into three separate “experiences” – the
“pier”, the “arch” and the “rampart”. The “pier” begins in the mangroves underneath the
Captain Cook Bridge, rises with a flourish to the island, before straddling the navigational
channel with the “arch” and descending via the “rampart” to the Maritime Museum. Weather protection is provided to over 75 percent of the bridge’s length and acoustic
and privacy screening were incorporated to meet the requirements of the pesky pink
building gracing South Bank’s shore.
The 102 metre dual arch steel structure of the main span has been fabricated off site
and will be floated upriver and under bridges before taking its rightful home. Awkwardly
sited on the river meander, the bridge has an uncomfortable relationship with the
freeway. This is exacerbated by the centipede-like structure of the “pier” which lifts its
mud-laden feet inelegantly across the water. Perhaps it is better for engineers to design
bridges, as architects are often inclined to tell too many stories. Nonetheless the link
created will provide a marvellous platform for viewing the speed boat races and the
fireworks of the river stage.
The bridge will complete the “loop” and bind the two shores of the river. With the
launch of the Millennium Arts Competition for the new Gallery of Modern Art and
extension to the State Library, with a masterplan by Cox Rayner, we will see a re-enactment
of the strategy applied at the time of the creation of the parklands – that of
“luring visitors down from the skies”. The “B” word (Bilbao) has been uttered recently by
many prominent politicians. Like Melbourne’s Federation Square, Millennium Arts has
ambitions for the city that go beyond a mere extension.
As Lara Croft encounters the sacred stones, the roots of the moreton bay fig trees
are heaving. Let us hope that the future will reveal a more dangerous interpretation
of our past. Louise Noble is an architect and urbanist. She lectures at the University of Queensland
and is in private practice. She would like to extend her sincere thanks to all the people
interviewed for this article: South Bank Corporation, John Simpson, Bill Corker, Robert
Riddell, Cathrin Bull, Michael Rayner, Brian Donovan, Shane Thompson, Louisa Carter,
and to Michael Barnett of the Queensland Art Gallery for his assistance. Thanks also to
Southbank Corporation and Blight Voller Nield for the use of archival photographs.
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Bibliography |
J.G. Steele Brisbane Town in Convict Days 1824-1842 (University of Queensland Press, 1975).
J.G. Steele Aboriginal Pathways in South-East Queensland and the Richmond River (University of
Queensland Press, 1984).
Peter Cook Tower Projects 1983-1984 edited by Don Watson (Ray Hughes Gallery 1984).
Dr John Macarthur “On Kodak Beach: technical developments in imaging and architecture”,
Transition 48, 1995.
Dr Cathrin Bull, “Southbank Parklands: Brisbane’s backyard”, Landscape Australia, February 1994
vol. 16, no. 1, pp. 49-52.
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