Epilogue

Roslyn Street, Kings Cross, 7 June 2021

In the final month before my exhibition, I realised that I cannot visit all of Sydney’s streets with female names. I would have liked to go to Sandy Glen, Nadine Close, Kerry Avenue or Kim Street because I know women with these names who might possibly visit the exhibition and should find a photo with their name. But this would have meant to do many more trips to far-away suburbs. Looking at some of them on Google maps also told me that these streets are mostly residential and very similar to each other. I took some screenshots from the map, but that was not the original idea. So the most logical moment to stop was with the exhibition Random Discoveries in April 2021.

There were also a few streets in my vicinity that I had missed. One of them was Roslyn Street in Kings Cross. This street has a lot of memories for me as I lived nearby in Macleay Street when I had come to Sydney in 1997. It marks the beginning of my life in this city. That’s why I want to include it here at the end of this journal.

In those days the street was busy by day and night. There was the Café Amsterdam at the corner to a small lane. Smoking was still allowed in cafés and bars then. In the ‘Amsterdam’ people often smoked other stuff than just cigarettes. Next door was the Baron’s, a bar to chill out late at night. On the other side of the street was the Piccolo Bar, an iconic café since 1952. The owner Vittorio himself was always present, making cups of coffee and chatting with customers.

My visit today is not the first one since the heady days of the late 1990s. I’ve been here many times and know that the ‘Amsterdam’ and ‘Barons’ are long gone. Instead, there is a commercial building by the Architects Durbach Block which won the Harry Seidler Award. It is impressive but somehow cold and impersonal. At least on my last visits, Vittorio was still there, sitting outside of his café and talking to his friends.

This time, after lock-outs and lockdowns the street looks sad. The Piccolo Bar is closed, and newspapers boarding up the windows. I heard that Vittorio has retired and wants to sell it.

It is the beginning of June 2021 and I don’t know yet that the longest lockdown is still to come.

Know my name

March and April 2021

By March I was mainly hunting for street names. My exhibition was going to open on 17th April at Articulate project space in Leichhardt. Over the months of working on the project, I became more and more aware that the accumulation of female street names is a powerful statement as such. This had to manifest itself visually in the exhibition. I had mostly taken photos of the things I encountered in the streets and the signs just occasionally. It was only a few weeks ago that I realised I needed many more of those. I visited Penrith and Fairfield, Chester Hill, and Greenacre to name a few because there are clusters of female names in these suburbs. I think they were just taken out of the hat to name the many new streets in the sprawling residential developments over the last 30 years or so.

Streets named in the 19th century mostly refer to Colonial interests. Elizabeth Street which goes from the CBD to Zetland is named after the first wife of Governor Macquarie. Many of the countless Victoria roads and streets in Sydney would have been named after Queen Victoria, among them the one in Marrickville. There was a push from the Inner West Council last year to rename such streets with Aboriginal names.

But apart from Victoria and a few princesses, the naming of the older streets took place on a more domestic level. From what I could find in the online history archives, they were named after relatives of early property developers. One of them was Joshua Josephson, the son of a convict, who became a musician, a solicitor and the Mayor of Sydney at some stage. In Newtown, many streets were named after his daughters, his stepsister and his brother’s wife.

I found only one street with a first and a surname: Lilian Fowler Place in Marrickville. She was Australia’s first female mayor, serving as the mayor of Newton from 1937 to 1939. It seemed to show that Sydney doesn’t acknowledge the achievement of women in their naming of places. A historian pointed out later that some women may be mentioned only by their surname. But this is a half-hearted homage. Who would know that Lawson Avenue in Marrickville is named after Louisa Lawson? A poet, writer and feminist and the mother of Henry Lawson. But this is an entirely different area of research. Instead, I took the liberty to claim some of the street names as female, when they might have been someone’s surname, a flower or a place.

For the exhibition, I installed rows of photos with street signs running along the gallery walls like roads. Another part was to put a second set of photos into alphabetically labelled boxes. Visitors were encouraged to look for their name or for any woman’s name who has a meaning to them and take the photo home.

Where the sun never shines

Alberta St, CBD on Thursday, 25 February 2021

Alberta is a narrow alley between high buildings where the sun never shines. Definitely not today. It just stopped raining. The clouds are dark and there are puddles on the pavement. In the past, this would have been an area for warehouses. The Teahouse, which stood empty for years, is still there across Wentworth Avenue. I find a few pleasant things though. When I turn around a corner, I see a colourful mural with pink trees and purple mountains. There are bright green teapots in the window of a closed café. Next to it is an Italian bar with old movie posters. I should go there one day.

Down the "Olive"

Caroline Street, Balmain on Thursday, 21 January 2021

Caroline Street has a deserted-looking 60s block of flats. But if I took a photo, somebody would have watched me from inside through the dusty windows and broken blinds. And while I am thinking this, someone actually does come bursting out through the front door. Instead of asking the expected suspicious questions, he greets me very friendly like an old mate and rushes away. There is another almost derelict house where a down-at-heel-looking woman just enters. Otherwise, most places look neat.

Caroline Lane leads down to the former Colgate Palmolive factory at the waterfront. It has been converted into luxury apartments. The factory was established at this location in 1923. Local residents made up most of the staff. According to interviews with former employees ‘everyone had a cousin down the “Olive”’.

Ref: Lackey and Vardabasso, Down the ‘Olive: A memory of Colgate-Palmolive in Balmain, New South Wales, 1994.

Frog Hollow

Ann Street, Surry Hills on Saturday, 16 January 2021

I am back in Ann Street after that time in March last year in the middle of the first lockdown, when I didn’t dare to get out of the car. It’s a sunny Saturday. There are not many people and not many cars, and plenty of parking spots. But when I turn around the corner into Commonwealth Street I see lots of young people queuing up for something. I’m curious but I don't go nearer to ask. We just recently had a new outbreak in the Northern Beaches and now have to wear masks in a crowd. And people don’t like to talk to strangers anymore.

The quiet street bathed in sunlight, containing the heat between the buildings, makes it hard to imagine the surroundings 100 years ago. Now, most of the small terraces are neat, with security grills and nicely painted doors and geraniums flowering on balconies. Only the imagination can strip this away and go back to the times when Frog Hollow was the most horrible slum in Surry Hills from about 1900 to 1925 and even later.

Ann Street bordered Frog Hollow on the lower side. Originally there was a creek and swampy ground. Although not suited for housing, the gully was developed by greedy speculators. The houses were dark, damp and overcrowded and only accessible by steep stairs with poorly lit, narrow laneways.

It was home or headquarters for many gangsters, one of them Samuel ‘Jewey’ Freeman, the leader of the Riley Street Gang. Kate Leigh became his lover in 1913, then a thief and prostitute who would later rule the crime scene of Sydney together with her rival Tilly Devine.

Frog Hollow is now a park. The old stairs, leading down from Riley and Albion Street, are still there.

And the times they are a-changin'

Fanny Place, Surry Hills on Friday 15 January 2021

It’s a small lane, lined by neat, freshly painted houses. People who live here meet for a glass of wine outside on Sunday evenings, as I discovered one day when coming past by coincidence. Today a plaque in the small playground tells me that the area became a desired address in the 1830s. In the 1860s mechanics, shopkeepers and skilled artisans moved in. And by the turn of the 20th century, it was an overcrowded slum. Now Fanny Place looks gentrified and rather wealthy.

The plaque doesn’t tell me that this was and always will be Gadigal land.

Olivia

Olivia Lane, Surry Hills on Friday, 15 January 2021 and 17 April 2020

I have gone back to Olivia Lane to get a photo of the street name for my exhibition project. My first visit was in the early weeks of the first lockdown in April 2020. I didn’t post my journal then, because I didn’t get any interesting photos. This lane shows mainly the backside of houses, fences and garage doors.

At one end it leads to Devonshire Street and the new tramline. When I look around the corner I notice a red armchair has replaced the discarded mattress from last year. This was the meeting place for a group of skateboarders, and maybe it still is. The only other person I saw then was a girl, about 8 years old, dancing all by herself a kind of hip-hop dance, pretty good. When I came nearer I heard that she was dancing to “Don’t worry, be happy”. She stopped and smiled at me. I smiled back and said “very nice”. She also had hopscotch squares drawn on the asphalt. She seemed to know how to keep up her spirits in those scary and lonely times.

Adelheid

Adelaide Street and Place, Surry Hills on Saturday, 12 December 2020

In the 1920s and 30s, two women ruled the crime scene of illegal alcohol and drugs in Sydney. Tilly Devine in Darlinghurst and Kate Leigh in Surry Hills. Kate Leigh had a sly grog shop at 212 Devonshire Street in the flat above her fruit and veggie shop. Adelaide Place is just around the corner.

Places in Australia named Adelaide might refer rather to the city than a female name. But in fact, the city is named after the German princess Adelheid who married the English King William IV.

The houses in this street are pretty. Some have blue or yellow window frames. Bougainvillea is growing over garden fences. Further down is a colossal building occupying a whole block. I notice cubist-looking concrete ornaments intersecting the facade. I read that it is the former Readers’ Digest office and a highly significant modernist building, designed by architect John James, sculptor Douglas Annand and landscape architect Bruce Mackenzie. The construction was completed in 1967.

At the back of the building in Adelaide Place are cast iron statues with bull horns, reminiscent of ancient cult symbols. On the opposite side, a white-painted brick wall is covered with tags. Posters announce the upcoming Sydney Festival in January 2021. Walking towards Devonshire Street, I pass small houses, one a sandstone cottage that must be quite old. Somewhere two ibises are watching from the balustrade of a balcony. Around the corner, I find Kate Leigh’s former shop. It’s now called Jazzy Café Bar and is closed until further notice because of COVID. According to an online travel guide, it was the ‘Sly’, just a few years earlier. It probably had many incarnations since Kate Leigh died in 1964.

For Tilly Devine see the entry about Charlotte Lane, Darlinghurst published on 13 May 2022.

A lane with a name

Marys Place, Surry Hills on Sunday, 15 November 2020

Marys Place has been renamed from Floods Lane to commemorate the woman who was raped and beaten here in 1996. There is a memorial inscription on the wall to raise awareness against homophobic violence.

At one end of Marys Place a church steeple is visible through Jacaranda trees. People have gathered on the grounds of the church, standing around in groups and holding wine glasses.

On this side of the fence, somebody has made a Christmas decoration with a tinsel wound around the remains of a vacuum cleaner next to a sign saying ‘Dumping of Litter, Penalty $200’.

Whispers

Charlotte Lane, Darlinghurst on Saturday, 14 November

Some streets or lanes give me a special tingle. The walls whisper. It’s not just because they have features of the past. In this case, a row of brick and sandstone houses are from an earlier time than the usual Victorian terrace. What I see in my mind’s eye are not the old Colonial times but the early 20th Century. Crammed life in narrow streets, small corner shops, men with hats, ragged-looking children, no trees, no flower pots.

Darlinghurst was the domain of gangster boss Tilly Devine. I look up the history and specifically search for Charlotte Lane. In this lane, the founder of the first Razor Gang, Norman Bruhn, was shot dead outside Mac’s sly-grog and cocaine den in 1927. Bruhn had come from Melbourne and thought that it was ridiculous that Sydney’s crime world was run by two women, the other being Kate Leigh. Serves him right. It is said that this killing was executed by one of Tilly’s gang, Frankie Green. But there are other possibilities, one being the owner of the den, Joe McNamara, who had been robbed by Bruhn and his mates sometime earlier.

This end of Darlinghurst struggles against the bullies from the city. The high buildings of College Street tower over old Charlotte Lane.

Ivy

Ivy Street and Lane, Darlington on Sunday, 8 November 2020

First I walk along Ivy Street which has mainly Victorian terraces and big, old eucalyptus trees.

This suburb still seems to have the Council waste collection day for household items which the neighbouring Redfern has not to my great regret. I am tempted to take a discarded little footstool with me. I am also tempted to bring some of my own unwanted household goods here. But I resist both temptations.

Across Abercrombie Street, Ivy Street is dominated by the large warehouse which used to have offices and now flats. I had an encounter with this part of Ivy Street, when I did my ‘Night Cruise’ project, photographing the building through raindrops on the windshield of my car.

Ivy Lane is divided by Lawson and Abercrombie Street, merging here with the Glengarry Castle Hotel at the corner. People walk slowly, getting coffee from the shops, stopping for a chat. The area feels like a secluded neighbourhood this Sunday afternoon. Not like the busy thoroughfare it is during the week between Redfern Station and the nearby university.

Ghost Signs

Rose Lane, Darlington on Sunday, 8 November 2020

I had forgotten to look for Rose Lane after I found out a few months ago that Rose Street doesn’t exist anymore in Darlington.

I came past it recently by coincidence. It is a very small lane with an old brick factory building on one side. Through the wire mesh windows, I can see a courtyard with trees and plants. Some parts of the windows still have dusty, old pieces of frosted glass. Through one of them, I suddenly recognise the head of a female mannequin. It looks eerie, a bit like a person trapped in a cage.

People live in this building. Around the corner are two doors in bright colours. There still is the name of the factory in faded letters. Only a few of them are recognisable. A young woman with two little children has just arrived at one of the doors and is ringing the bell. It’s an old-fashioned one where you turn a metal knob, like winding up a clock.

On the other side of the lane is the Darlington Activity Club, a low brick building with tin rubbish bins in the courtyard. Looking across from here is another lane with yet another former factory at the corner. Here I can read quite clearly that it was called Blue Diamond and has a pale blue triangle painted on the brickwork.

Ethel

Ethel Street and Lane, Eastwood on Thursday, 5 November 2020

Ethel Street features mainly uniform-looking apartment blocks made of dark red brick. There used to be brickworks in Eastwood which explains the prevalence of this building material.

It’s raining heavily today and it’s cold. I had my doubts about even coming here but I was in the neighbourhood after having stayed with a friend in Dundas Valley. 

At the end of the street towards the railway tracks are a few shops, and a Korean grocery store at the corner. Fruit and vegetables are on display outside in boxes with handwritten labels above them. One says “Please DO NOT eat fruits on display”. This seems funny to me as it is above a box with pineapples. 

On the other side is a long, pale yellow building with a pub and a few shops, some empty. “First Fortune”, whatever it once promised, is no more. I venture out into the rain and into Ethel Lane, which looks sinister with its dark brick walls under the heavy clouds. A psychiatrist and a psychologist share premises. You enter through a narrow door under a tattered and faded canopy - rather what I’d imagine being the entrance of a cheap brothel.

It's really great to see you again

Frances Street, Randwick on Friday, 30 October 2020

Frances is one of the more majestic streets in Randwick. At the corner to Avoca Street is the old building of the Town Hall and on the other side the St Jude Anglican Church with its historic cemetery. I like that they let the grass and wildflowers grow high between the graves. The cemetery closes at 4 p.m., in 5 minutes, so I am a bit nervous about venturing too far in. For that reason, I didn’t inspect the newer-looking statue of three girls, which I saw from the street through the fence.

A bit further down is a park with a trampled lawn where people sit with their children after picking them up from school. There are a few mansions in this street. One is now a convention centre. Jacaranda trees are in blossom. The sky doesn’t know whether to be dark or friendly. Bus stops now display encouraging slogans: “Hello. It’s really great to see you again.” During lockdown other signs read: “Ask, are you ok?”

Rosemary's Windows

Crystal Street and Crystal Lane West, Petersham on Wednesday, 21 October 2020

Crystal Lane West has an old factory building which is now something fancy. A luxury car is just driving into the garage. It also has a 30s-style block of flats with a paved small courtyard, outdoor laundry, and washing lines. Some elaborate graffiti marks this lane, one with a huge mosquito. When I try to find out later if the mosquito is a logo for a particular graffiti artist, I come across this history: “Mosquito” was the name of an RAF combat aircraft also used by the Australian Air Force. On 2nd May 1945, one of these fighter planes disintegrated above Petersham. The pilots couldn’t save themselves as they were not high enough for their parachutes to open. One of the pilots landed tragically in the playground of the Petersham Public School. I wonder if the graffiti of the mosquito recalls this local event or if it’s an amazing coincidence.

I pass a car repair shop at the corner of Crystal Street. The wall bordering the yard shows a Bushell “ghost sign”, a remnant of a past commercial era. This section of the street has some empty shops. Among them, a harpsichord shop with a rusty banner alongside the awning, and a store that once sold Jackson cigarettes and Toblerone chocolate as the blue panels below the barred windows tell me. On the wall, a newer poster demands ‘Immediately Housing for the Homeless’. Mmh, good cause, but bad grammar. A bit further along is a Metropolitan Community Church with the LGBTQIA+ flag flying on its roof. On the other side is John While & Sons, “spring manufacturers established 1885”, now an apartment block. There are more small shops on that side; one identifies as an op shop by its display of secondhand clothes and knick-knacks visible behind the dark windows. This shop and all the others nearby are closed until further notice. 

Crystal Street, Petersham on Thursday, 7 January 2021

Today I start at the part of Crystal Street, where I once worked for the photo media artist Rosemary Laing in 2006/07. She had her live-in studio in an old, unconverted warehouse. It was very cold in winter there, in spite of portable heaters, hot cups of tea and ginger biscuits. The main entrance was in the courtyard. She eventually moved away, but the building remains the same, maybe still empty, the window frames unpainted. At the back of the yard is a workshop of some kind; a bathtub with plants outside the low building. The UGG sheepskin shop flanks the other side of the yard. At the street level are two empty shops. One still features faded posters and notes in the window: Sydney Folk Festival, Gulgong Folk Festival, ‘Rorts and Greed: Killing our Rivers’.

Back when I worked at Rosemary’s, the Hell’s Angels had leased or bought one of these shops for their clubhouse. They painted it red and fortified it with iron bars and security cameras. But this couldn’t stop a bomb from going off one night in June 2007, damaging the door and wall tiles. They moved out soon after that. 

On the other side of the road the dog-grooming shop ‘Wagging Tail’, which I could see from the room I worked in, now seems to have closed down. Crystal Street has a sign saying “Welcome to Cadigal-Wangal Country”. I don’t know if it was there before, or if I’m more aware of Aboriginal Country now.

A bit further along is the op shop which was closed when I passed by in October 2020. Now, three months later, dummies in colourful clothes are on display in the street outside. Further down is the Art Deco-style Petersham Town Hall. I learn from the internet that it has been a popular film location for movies and TV series such as ‘Strictly Ballroom’ and ‘A Place to Call Home’. 

Towards Stanmore Road opposite the Oxford Tavern is a Federation-style residential building with decorative green and cream timber features, and tiling on the entry paths. One section of it looks neglected. That part seems to be used as a boarding house. Another looks freshly renovated with shiny new street numbers.

Chelsea and Zamia

Chelsea and Zamia Street, Redfern on Monday, 19 October 2020

On the corner of Chelsea Street are the ‘Little Evie’ café and deli. This street has some very pretty houses, some of them timber cottages. One building is grey and quite neglected. It must have been a warehouse recognisable from the loading beam. The window underneath is bricked up. There is another neglected warehouse and a Victorian terrace, apparently also empty, with trees and vines taking over. Chelsea Lodge is a 60s yellow brick block and advertises a flat for lease. As I walk along on one side of the street, I pass a school girl, about 10 years old who is wearing magenta-coloured leg warmers. When I go back on the other side, she comes towards me again. 

I have taken photos in Zamia Street before around 2005. I can’t find the spot where I photographed the public housing buildings through bougainvillea blossoms. But the blocks are still there, looming against dark clouds. These are the ones belonging to the complex built in the 1970s with a utopian vision and now threatened to be demolished. The development plans were already made public a few years ago. It is unclear yet what is going to happen.

Further down the street is a shed-like construction that seemed to be made entirely out of rusty corrugated-iron panels. That’s what I thought back then. But it is a solid house and a family is apparently living there. I hear the voices of children from behind the fenced-in yard.

Strangely, the girl with the magenta leg warmers is with me again, this time accompanied by another girl and a woman. They all get into a car. The two streets are not even so close to each other. I feel like a stalker.

Both Chelsea and Zamia have a playground that is full of children and adults, real neighbourhood meeting points. If you have small children…

Where glass was made

Crystal Street, Waterloo on Monday, 19 October 2020

This is a new street in the big apartment complex which was built on the grounds of the former Australian Glass Manufacturers. It’s more than a complex, almost a suburb in itself with its own streets, parks and shopping centres. The first development started around 2003 and it has continuously grown since then.

I pass the slick facade of the ‘Orange Supermarket’, an Asian grocery store. The interior manages to look as if it is in an old Asian quarter and the prices are low. In the middle of the street is a small park with a water basin from which fountains of water emerge and benches are on each side. People are sitting and reading or having lunch or enjoying the water display. The trees are already quite high and give shade. There are lots of cafés and restaurants and more benches and palm trees lining the street in the pedestrian part. People sit around, meeting for a chat. It’s really quite nice here, even though I don’t like the buildings. At the end of the street is Coles Supermarket. 

Far Horizons

Morgan Avenue, Matraville on Thursday, 15 October 2020

I cannot find Morgan Avenue. I am already at the roundabout at La Perouse where I eat my sandwich, sitting on a bench. It is very windy. I turn the navigator on to find a petrol station and make another attempt to locate this street. It leads me through an area where trucks come thundering out of yards without stopping to look left or right. Finally, the navigator takes me into the Botany Cemetery. From here I can see the bay where Captain Cook first landed in Kamay (Botany Bay) on the fateful day of 29 April 1770.

I find it unsettling to be guided to a street in a graveyard. I used to like cemeteries, reading the inscriptions on the stones and guessing about the lives of the people buried. Today it makes me sad. The inscriptions on the headstones speak of tragedies. Here lies a two-year-old boy and his mother who died only one month later. Somewhere else a young man is dearly missed. I think I am too old to enjoy cemeteries.

A car arrives, and a middle-aged man gets out with a watering can. Most graves here don’t have living plants. I am curious about who he is visiting. When he has gone, I find the grave easily. It has a rosebush, the water droplets are still on the petals. The woman remembered on the stone died old in 1986. I am touched by this dedication.

Many of the graves have no one who cares for them anymore. They are caved in, the stone plates broken into pieces, covered with lichen.

School children walk by on a path outside.

The girls have taken over

Leslie Street, Tempe on Sunday, 4 October 2020

In the days this street was named, Leslie was known as a male name, while the female version was Lesley. But in the meantime, this distinction has been overturned. It sounds the same anyway. And so I am here in this cozy street. I hope all the neighbours like each other because it’s the kind of environment where they should. I feel that most small cul-de-sac streets have this ambience of privacy. Because you can’t drive through, there is no reason for anyone to go there who is not connected in some way to the residents. Except for me, of course. 

The only person I see is a young man in his driveway, loading a small truck with witches’ hats and whatever other barricades. A trailer is parked in the street, stacked up with the same things. A sign says it’s a traffic management business.

The weird and the beautiful

Margaret Street, North Sydney on Monday, 28 September 2020

This street looks like a walkway in a park, going uphill between trees and bushes. First, there are some sandstone houses, a small art deco block of flats and a car mechanic workshop hidden away in a recess. Then steps are going up high to the next level. Halfway is a small lawn with a bench under trees and on the other side a sprawling building with walls and towers like a fortress. Some renovation work is in progress. They are putting in shiny corrugated aluminium roofs that clash with the medieval theme. A man working on the site asks me if I got lost. In turn, I ask him if he is the owner of this building, seeing that he looks a bit older than the average construction worker.

“No, I wished”, he answers. “You wished? It’s rather weird.” “Yeah, it is a bit. It has been here for 40 years.”