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Here and There

Sharawag

It was not surprising to find Wellington's recent trade fair following the same haphazard and chaotic pattern as that of New Zealand cities. However some sort of plan was followed — a ‘grid’ plan, island stands and long straight avenues, accidentally granting prominence to displays of batteries or vacuum cleaners at the end of vistas. Where the grid plan petered out one found some odd kitchen sinks and window fittings propped in an abandoned fashion against the main wall of the building.

With no discernible route to follow one zigzagged across avenues, circumnavigated islands, retraced one's steps, eventually returning to the main entrance sure in the knowledge that one had seen soap bubbles and popcorn a dozen times, but by no means certain how many exhibits remained undiscovered — lost beyond recall.

Some deliberate methods had been adopted in the disposition of exhibits — that of infinite variety. Groceries were found hob-nobbing with radios on one side and stationery on the other — plastics next to paper bags — prams next to perspex — hosiery next to furniture — concrete mixers and waffles — the country store in excelsis. Yet this, one recalls, was an industrial exhibition produced by an urban community.

In Wellington city there are by-laws restricting the size of shop verandah fascias. A similar restriction was imposed upon stall canopies of the exhibition, the only apparent regulating line in the whole show. What happens above or below the fascia was nobody's business, except the stall holders, who were obviously anxious to display everything which they produced, sold or advocated — a typical scene in any shopping street of our city.

The products displayed indicated a high technical efficiency, but most goods designed in New Zealand were inferior to those modelled upon contemporary overseas designs. It was interesting to find that in the opinion of our furniture manufacturers the public is now ripe for an eighteenth century revival, that the modernistic trash which has been served up for some time is palling, that bedroom suites with cabriole legs, high curvaceous head and toe, finished in Southland beech veneer, heavily stained and polished to assimilate mahogany, is now a la mode. However there is still diversity and choice, for example in chairs combining with unhappy ingenuity the ‘moderne’ with the ‘antique’ — legs in bulbous pseudo-baroque seat and back in modern suburban.

The comment on this contrived chaos came from the Government Court, where a notice said with the wisdom born of innocence: “Keep New Zealand Green!”

A new pattern is slowly emerging in our New Zealand countryside. The bitter struggle of the pioneers for survival changed the face of our primeval landscape, and, as Clough Williams-Ellis put it, the victory of man over nature was generally resounding and aften resulted in complete massacre. But the bad old days of gaunt and blackened tree stumps are passing, and, with the growth of new trees and well-trimmed hedges a new man-made beauty is slowly coming about.

A journey through the countryside does indicate that man is not wholly vile, and there are definite signs that man and nature are working in harmony to produce the more pleasing prospect. But with man's victory complete and nature now playing the part of collaborator it seems unfortunate that we should continue our atrocity propaganda by adorning our highways with crude and ugly hoardings.

The rural scene, as charmingly depicted above, is all too familiar. There must surely be other less undesirable ways of informing the public that Greens is Great but that Blanks are So Much Better etc., etc. Perhaps it is our own fault for accepting and tolerating these eyesores. How about playing a little game next time you take a cross-country journey? Take notice of any particularly revolting hoardings and make a mental note to avoid like the plague the products so advertised. After your first attempt you may, of course, decide to go by air in future, but I do think that, given enough players, the blight would in time mysteriously and painlessly disappear.

The Association of New Zealand Art Societies has announced the conditions of the award of the National Travelling Scholarship in Architecture, 1951. The total value of the scholarships is £1,000 N.Z. and the period for which it is tenable is not less than two years. Applications, which close on 31 March, 1951, are to be made on forms obtainable from the Secretary of the Association of N.Z. Art Societies, the Secretary of the N.Z.I.A. or the Secretary of the Architectural Centre.