Millers Point

Friday, 9 September 2016

A contemporary forced urban removal: The displacement of public housing residents from Millers Point, Dawes Point and the Sirius Building by the New South Wales Government






A contemporary forced urban removal:



The displacement of public housing residents from Millers Point, Dawes Point and the Sirius Building by the New South Wales Government
Alan Morris

Professor of Sociology

University of Technology Sydney
 
September, 2016
 
A contemporary forced urban removal: The displacement of public housing residents from Millers Point, Dawes Point and the Sirius Building by the New South Wales Government
 
 
By Alan Morris

This research arose out of discussions with the Millers Point Community Working Party. Shelter agreed to publish it so that it will be in the public domain.

First published: 7 September 2016.

Shelter Brief 58 ISSN 1448-7950

© Shelter NSW Incorporated 2016

Shelter NSW 377 Sussex Street, Sydney NSW 2000 www.shelternsw.org.au

This paper may be reproduced in part or whole by nonprofit organizations and individuals for educational purposes, so long as Shelter NSW is acknowledged.
 
Any opinions expressed in this paper are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Shelter NSW. Shelter NSW iii



Contents
 
Brief summary ......................................................................................................................................................1

1. The context ........................................................................................................................................................1

2. The process of moving residents ..............................................................................................................5

3. Perceptions of the Government’s decision to move the residents .............................................9

4. Why residents decided to move ............................................................................................................. 12

5. The impact on residents of being told they had to move ............................................................ 16

6. The impact of moving from Millers Point .......................................................................................... 19

7. Perceptions of the accommodation in the new area and accommodation offered in Millers Point ........................................................................................................................................................ 25

8. Why some residents have refused to move despite the intense pressure imposed ........ 27

9. Conclusion ....................................................................................................................................................... 30

Appendix .............................................................................................................................................................. 33
 
Methodology ........................................................................................................................ 33
 
References ........................................................................................................................................................... 34 A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 1



Brief summary
 
In this Shelter Brief, Prof Morris, presents, in their own words, the experiences of a sample of Millers Point residents involved in the recent forced removal of public tenants.



The research arose out of discussions with the Millers Point Community Working Party. Shelter agreed to publish it so that it will be in the public domain. The research (which received ethics approval from UTS) draws on semi-structured in-depth interviews with 13 residents who have moved from Millers Point and 6 residents who have thus far resisted the move.

The report provides a background to the Millers Point community and an account of the controversy surrounding the decision to relocate the public tenant community and to sell the properties. But mainly it focusses on the way that the decision and its implementation has been experienced by the residents – from the announcement, their views of the decision, the process of relocation, the reasons for either agreeing or refusing to go, and the experience of having left the community. It also maps out the pressure being experienced by residents who have thus far resisted the intense pressure to move.

Despite sometimes positive responses to the relocation officers, overall the process was generally experienced as brutal, causing tremendous stress and distress. While some are happy with their move and most welcomed the better quality homes (a common sentiment was that their homes in Millers Point were badly neglected), the overwhelming experience reported by the Millers Point residents who have moved is of loss, isolation and loneliness.

The question that remains unanswered is why residents, especially older, long-term residents, with deep attachment to the area were not allowed to remain.
 
1. The context
 
Millers Point is recognised as the oldest public housing area in Australia. Most of the homes were built for waterfront workers at the turn of the century and many of the present and ex residents have a relationship to the area that goes back 3, 4 or even 5 generations (Fitzgerald and Keating, 1991; Mazzoldi, 2014).
 
Up until 1985 the homes were built and managed by the Maritime Services Board and tenancies tended to be passed down through families. This contributed towards the creation of a strong and cohesive community. The area was threatened with redevelopment and removal in the 1970s but the Green Bans prevented the A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 2



destruction of Millers Point and surrounds. In 1999 Millers Point was declared a heritage site. The Office of Environment and Heritage concluded,
 
Millers Point Conservation Area is an intact residential and maritime precinct of outstanding State and national significance. It contains buildings and civic spaces dating from the 1830s and is an important example of nineteenth and early twentieth century adaptation of the landscape. The precinct has changed little since the 1930s (NSW Government, Office of Environment and Heritage, 1999).



The assessment of significance stated,
 
Its public housing and its development into a Government corporate town were probably the first such developments in Australia (apart from first settlement) and may be of international significance … It is occupied in part by descendants of its earlier communities and retains a strong community spirit … Its long-term residents provide a rich resource of oral evidence contributing to an understanding of the history of the place and the Sydney waterfront … Its unity, authenticity of fabric and community, and complexity of significant activities and events make it probably the rarest and most significant historic urban place in Australia (NSW Government, Office of Environment and Heritage, 1999).



In 1980 the Sirius Building with 79 apartments was completed. It was built specifically to house public housing tenants who faced relocation due to development in the Rocks area. It is viewed as a superb example of brutalist, modernist architecture providing high quality housing for older tenants and families. In 2016 the Heritage Council unanimously recommended that Sirius be given heritage status. The chairperson of the Heritage Council, Stephen Davies, stated that the Council based its decision on the ‘aesthetic significance’ of the building and that ‘It had a rarity for social housing buildings for this particular period’ (in McNally and Code, 2016). In its draft statement of significance the NSW Heritage Council described it as a,
 
rare and fine example of the late Brutalist architectural style especially in its application to social housing … [it] marked a turning point in public housing design with a refocus on the needs of the tenants and a commitment to providing safe and comfortable accommodation for housing commission residents (Cheng, 2016).

The lives of Millers Point residents slowly started changing from 1985 when the Maritime Services Board handed over the management of the housing stock in Millers Point to Housing NSW. A key shift was the housing of tenants with complex needs in the area. Some of these new tenants were difficult neighbours. Residents also commented that the maintenance of their homes declined. A common sentiment was A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 3



that this neglect had intensified in recent years and was part of a deliberate policy to weaken the resolve of residents.

A major change in the class composition of the area was signalled in 1998 when the construction companies Mirvac and Transfield were given permission by the Maritime Services Board to redevelop the Walsh Bay wharves. Walsh Bay was to become one of the most upmarket and expensive areas in Sydney.

The enormous increase in the value of Millers Point properties led to the Labor government announcing in 2006 that it would sell 16 homes in Millers Point on 99-year lease. These were sold in 2008 and another 20 homes were traded in 2010. Noteworthy is that the sell-off, although controversial, did not involve displacing existing tenants (Tovey, 2012).

An ominous development for the public housing tenants was the announcement in 2009 that Lend Lease had won the right to develop Barangaroo, the 33 hectare site that was the former port adjacent to Millers Point. The area was to be redeveloped as an office and high-end residential precinct. A casino hotel and luxury apartment complex was a controversial late addition to the Barangaroo development. It was given final approval in November 2013.

In October 2012, the then Finance Minister, Greg Pearce, announced that the NSW government was considering selling off the Millers Point public housing as they were not viewed as compatible with the Barangaroo development:
 
Much of the Land and Housing Corporation's portfolio at Millers Point is poorly suited for social housing, being heritage-listed older houses which cannot be modified to meet modern requirements, particularly access requirements, and are expensive to maintain … Inevitably, when considering the future of Millers Point, the government needs to consider it in the context of all of the surrounding areas, including the Barangaroo redevelopment area (in Tovey, 2012).

On the 19 March 2014, the then New South Wales Minister for Community Services, Pru Goward, called a press conference to announce that all of the approximately 400 public housing tenants1 in Millers Point, Dawes Point and the Sirius Building2 were to

1 In June 2013, 45% of Millers Point residents had been in their current property for less than 10 years, 26% had been resident for between 10 and 20 years, and 29% for more than 20 years (Reilly, 2014: 23).

2 Cred Community Planning was commissioned by the Land and Housing Corporation which is part of Family and Community Services to conduct a study into the impact that the sale of Millers Point would have on residents. The Sirius Building was never part of the Social Impact Assessment (Reilly, 2014). A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 4 be moved and their homes sold. The move was justified primarily by the claim that the proceeds of the sale would be used to build 1500 social housing dwellings:

We know there are people who are passionate about living here and we want to make the move as easy as possible. But we are very pleased that we have come to the decision … to sell these properties in this magnificent area for the benefit of the entire social housing system (Pru Goward, announcing the sell-off).



The cost of maintenance was also used to justify the displacement. The minister stated that in regards to maintenance the Millers Point dwellings cost ‘four times the average for public housing in NSW’ and that ‘In the last two years alone, nearly $7 million has been spent maintaining this small number of properties’ (in Hasham, 2014). Interviewees and the Millers Point Community Working Party were sceptical of this claim. A number of interviewees said that in recent years little or no money had been spent on their homes by Housing NSW. The point was also made that some of the expenditure was probably for capital works rather than maintenance. Further, the relative newness and functionality of the Sirius Building meant that maintenance was not a major issue for the building.

The most recent blow for the Millers Point community (July, 2016) has been the decision by the NSW Environment Minister, Mark Speakman, to reject a request by the NSW Heritage Council for the Sirius Building to be heritage-listed. The minister made it clear that the government’s aim was to sell the building to a developer who would have the right to demolish the building and claimed that a heritage listing would diminish its value by $70 million:
 
I am not (heritage) listing it because whatever its heritage value, even at its highest, that value is greatly outweighed by what would be a huge loss of extra funds from the sale of the site, funds the government intends to use to build housing for families in great need (in Muller, 2016).



Mr Speakman was immediately praised by the Finance Minister, Dominic Perottet, who went beyond his brief to cast himself as an expert on aesthetics and architecture:
 
Frankly, the Sirius building is not at all in harmony with the harbour and heritage that surrounds it … Our city deserves better, and we now have a chance to deliver a building that genuinely complements our dazzling harbour, rather than sticking out like a sore thumb (in Saulwick, 2016).

In the same article, the Finance Minister also described the Sirius Building as an ‘antiquated unfit-for-purpose social housing site’. The interviews indicated that present and former residents of the Sirius Building view it as extremely functional. Tao Gofers, the architect responsible, consulted with residents to obtain a sense of what their needs were and responded accordingly. As a result the building has a range A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 5



of apartments (one, two, three and even four-bedroom apartments) encouraging a mix of tenant households and there are common spaces for meetings and social gatherings.

The remainder of the article draws on in-depth semi-structured interviews with 13 residents who have moved and six residents who were still resident in Millers Point in September 2016. The methodology is discussed in the Appendix.
 
2. The process of moving residents
 
Although there had been rumours for some time that something was afoot, the March 2014 announcement shocked residents. Also, they never expected it to be announced the way it was:
 
It was a big shock in some ways, but in other ways it wasn’t a big shock because all of us were facing problems with … the houses. It just seemed like it was an answer as to why there was neglect. So it was like I knew it … But it was a shock especially that we weren’t told and it was announced on TV. (Emily3)
3 All the names used are pseudonyms.




Also the announcement was made through Pru Goward. She was a gutless wonder … She couldn’t even come and face the people. We heard it on TV. (Grace)
 
 
The decision went against an earlier decision in 2013 by the state government’s Land and Housing Corporation (this decision was never discussed with residents) to construct a building in Millers Point to house 140 elderly residents (Needham, 2014). It also ignored the heritage listing of Millers Point and the Social Impact Assessment report commissioned Family and Community Services that warned that moving older residents against their will was a high risk strategy and could hasten death. The report concluded that long-established older residents should be allowed to live out their lives in Millers Point (Reilly, 2014: 82).

On the day of the announcement, Housing NSW personnel handed out letters telling residents they had to move. If residents were not home, letters were placed under the door:
 
And they had guys coming around from the Housing handing out a flyer of what was going to happen – ‘You will be re-housed’, … We just thought they're just going to chuck us out [into the street] … It didn’t turn out as bad as that but that A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 6



was the shock of that first day and everyone was going, ‘What’s happening?’ It was really quite traumatic. (Desmond)

They sent a team down of about 30-40 people to door-knock to give them (the households) a letter to say your house is going to be sold. (Laura)
 
 
The approach was viewed as disrespectful and upsetting:
 
I mean we’ve often discussed this and we thought well if they had a just maybe approached everyone individually and said, "Look would you like to move. We can re-house you in a nice suburb somewhere" … You might have got 50% of the people would say, "Okay". Cos all the places needed a lot of repairs you know. But the way they went about it, it was just drop this bombshell on everyone and that’s really brutal. (Desmond)
 
 
There was a perception that residents were treated with disdain:
 
You meant nothing. It didn’t matter if you were there for one year or 56 years, you were totally irrelevant to their plans … No negotiation. No respect given to us. I mean to them we were housos you know and we’re not housos4. (Grace)
4 Grace was not only referring to the respectful status of most Millers Point residents, but was noting that historically they were tenants of the Maritime Services Board and not public housing tenants.

Some interviewees found the process of being allocated an alternative dwelling by Housing NSW confusing and stressful. An ex-Millers Point resident explained the system, labelled the housing lotto by residents, in the following way:




Every second Tuesday in Sirius [Building] in the community room they came along, the housing people, the representatives, and they'd have several places like maybe half a dozen places that had come available in Rozelle or somewhere around the city area and you sort of made a bid for them - like a ballot. You filled out a form and said, "Well, I’d like to be considered for that". So you might have had a dozen families, but only one’s going to get it and so they'd go and get a look at it and get their hopes up and then sorry, "Someone else has got it". (Desmond)
 
 
The ballot was not viewed as transparent as decisions were made by Housing NSW staff in their offices. Residents felt that it was a divisive process as it pitched residents against each.
 
Each household was allocated a relocation officer whose role was to help residents find alternative accommodation. The relocation process involved making ‘two formal offers of alternative social housing options’. If a resident felt that the offers were not A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 7



reasonable they had the right to lodge an appeal. Some interviewees found their relocation officers intimidating:
 
You had to meet with a relocation officer and a lot of them weren’t very nice. The one I had wasn’t very nice. I wanted to change. (Ashleigh)

Yeah, you couldn’t say no … They were extremely professional. Highly trained in how to get people out. (Emily)
 
 
It was evident that the competence and compassion of the relocation offices varied. Some appeared to be unaware of the sentiments of residents, whilst others tried their best to work with the resident concerned:
 
The first phone call I got from the relocation officer was, "Oh, you’ll be a lot happier when you move". I said, "Yeah, right". Hung up on her. You don’t know me and you're telling me I'm going to be a lot happier. (Ashleigh)
 
 
Laura found the relocation process particularly difficult:
 
The whole relocation process was a nightmare in itself because they were showing us properties that were just absolutely awful … It was a really difficult, traumatic time. Really traumatic.
 
 
However, she felt that the relocation team tried their best in the circumstances:
 
It was a very traumatic experience and even when you move it’s a whole new set of traumas as well but I have to say that the relocation team and I know people have different experiences … they were a pleasure to deal with. They were professional. They were courteous.
 
 
Residents were asked what they required. Residents would then be shown houses that were supposed to match their requests. There was a strong fear that if you refused homes shown, you would find yourself with little choice further down the track:
 
In the meantime the phone calls from Claire (the relocation officer) were there constantly, private calls and I thought that’s the relocation officer and then she’d leave messages and I’d be like, "Oh my god, I’ve got to return her call otherwise it looks like I'm not going along with them and they can just kick me out. I’ve got to return the calls". It’s a horrible feeling and I can’t imagine what it did to old people. (Melissa)
 
 
Emily tried to ward off the inevitable by listing very particular requirements:
 
I had given them a wish list and I didn’t think they [Housing NSW] were going to be able to come up with it and when I came here [to her ‘new’ public housing accommodation] it actually did tick all the boxes … I’d asked for decent facilities. A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 8



I wanted a place that’s clean and I wanted no mould. I wanted a range-hood over the stove. I'd like gas for cooking. I wanted a bath-tub. I wanted two bedrooms so I can have a friend stay over cos my health is not good and I want somebody with me sometimes. I'm getting older you know. I wanted a place to park the car. I wanted a garage. I'd given them this entire list of stuff that I thought that they would never come up with and when I came here I thought, "Oh shit". And I was terrified in the back of my mind that if I turned it down that I would get stuck in one of the high rises in Waterloo or Surry Hills or somewhere … So yeah, I was pretty terrified to say no to this place cos I thought, "Shit if I say no to this, what are they going to give me?"
 
 
She was extremely concerned that she may be relocated to a neighbourhood where she would not feel safe. She loved the sense of safety in Millers Point. Prior to moving to Millers Point in 2004, she had lived in a housing complex where she had experienced a number of break-ins and felt extremely vulnerable. She was terrified of finding herself in a similar situation:
 
They were coming and interviewing us and we were giving them our wish-list that if we could move what would we want and not knowing if we were going to get moved to somewhere that was going to be you know dangerous. I was telling them, "Don’t put me back in Waterloo. I don’t want to go back there. I don’t want to leave the city", but for me what were my alternatives because there's very few alternatives in the inner city as far as housing goes … So it was extremely stressful for me cos I didn’t want to leave that … vibrant atmosphere where I felt safe and connected, very connected and be put somewhere you know in the burbs where I am now. Yeah, it was the not knowing. That was extremely stressful.
 
 
Where people landed up was partially dependent on their capacity and preparedness to seek out opportunities and assert themselves. Desmond and Grace heard about a vacant house in E …….. and decided to go and investigate:
 
So eventually we started looking ourselves and we found this place. We had, the person who was representing us from Housing that we didn’t really have much confidence in. Anyway, I found this place through a friend, one of our ex-neighbours ... So we came down and there’d been an 85-year-old lady living here and she was a hoarder and I could just see through the window. She’d already left but the mounds of rubbish about 3 feet high … And as you can see it’s a lovely big kitchen and dining, so we hassled for it. They weren’t going to give it to us because technically as a couple … we’re only entitled to two bedrooms … I just thought, "Stuff this". They want to move us out, we had three bedrooms … so I said to the top guy … I said, "Look you want our $2 million house well how about bending over a bit and let’s have this place which was three bedroom". Anyway A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 9



he sent the relocation officer down and she took some photos and said you can have it but you’ll have to pay extra rent for the extra bedroom.
 
 
From February 2016 almost all the offers made by Housing NSW were formal rather than informal offers. Prior to this date the process had been less formal and residents were able to negotiate. In the case of residents who have refused formal offers, the pressure has been relentless. After Mary had rejected a number of homes she was told that she had to proceed through the Housing Appeals Committee and give reasons as to why she should not accept the home shown to her. At the time of writing it was unclear if her appeal had been successful. She was not sure how long she could continue to resist: ‘How long can you fight before you crack?’
 
3. Perceptions of the Government’s decision to move the residents
 
Interviewees viewed the decision to move all of the public housing tenants as extremely harsh and uncompromising. Ashleigh and Grace summed up the sentiments of interviewees:
 
Someone said that Labor started it, but they weren’t so brutal. They waited till you moved out or died before they started selling them off which that was fine with everybody. Just to cleanse the whole community. It’s terrible. (Ashleigh)

They're ruthless across the board. I think that’s the worst part. There was no empathy with anyone … (Grace)
 
 
One resident compared the ordering of residents to move to tactics adopted by the Third Reich.
 
It’s like Nazi Germany. Really, that’s what it felt like initially … It was the power. It was like another Hitler just out there. Do this or do that and we’ve got no rights from all angles. No compassion, no empathy. No, they don’t care … Once again it’s the power and the money and when does it stop? (Mary)
 
 
The sense that residents were being moved for the money selling Millers Point residences would generate, was particularly galling: Some properties had been empty for more than a decade:
 
We’ve done nothing wrong. We pay our rent and everything like that but they want us out you know. But I think it’s very unfair because they're screaming out they’ve got no places for people to live now and yet they're putting us out and putting other A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 10



people in. I think it’s very unfair but all they're after is the money. I know that. I think it’s terrible. (Helen)
 
 
Helen was also bitterly upset about the destruction of an historic community that had made a major contribution to Australia’s economy and social history:
 
This is what’s got me … There's going to be no heritage left in the area and nothing to write about for anything if they're going to put everybody out and it’s not fair as far as I'm concerned cos when the men worked on the wharves they brought in the cargoes and then they pushed it out to the other like parts of the country you know. If they didn’t have those men and the people didn’t live here you know in those days no one would have anything.
 
 
A pervasive sentiment was that those residents who wanted to stay, should have been allowed to age in place:
 
No one wanted to live there when it was rough and things like that and the wharfies made it what it is cos Maritime [Services Board] had those places before Housing [NSW]. I admire the ones that have stayed … Some have been there all their lives and they should be allowed to stay. They haven’t got much longer. (Ashleigh)

I can’t see why they just shouldn’t have been left to stay if they did not want to move. Like a lot of people did want to move from there you know because they were sick and tired of the … [poor] upkeep of the places, but the people that didn’t want to move why not just leave them there and let them die in peace? (Pat)
 
 
Not allowing older residents to stay was viewed as particularly cruel:
 
And there's still people there now that you know are 80 years of age and they’ve lived there all their lives and their parents were there before them and they just won’t move, the poor buggers. It’s going to kill them if they do move. And it’s going to kill them if they stay there … So that’s not good at all mate, what’s going on ... Well you can imagine living in one place for all your life, 80 years of age, the next minute somebody’s knocking on the door and saying, "Get out". They're not going to tell you where you're going to go. You can pick a place all right but picking a place you might have two people that you know there or some bloody thing you know. It’s not like the old way. It’s not comfortable living. (Pat)

Just leave the elderly people there … I think the old people need that [community] especially when they get used to something and they’ve been there all their life. (Ashleigh)
 
I mean a lot of people when this happened, a lot of people moved on their own accord, they were happy to move … but I think they should have considered the elderly and the people that have lived here all their life. I've been here 55 years. What’s another 10, 20 years? You know we have a community. It’s really sad. I just A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 11



think it’s absurd … and I think it’s very cruel. I think younger ones can cope, well no one can cope with it it’s just not human, but I think doing this to the elderly, the older people, is not right … You raise your children, went to school and all of a sudden where do you go? What do you do? You’ve had your neighbourhood? You’ve had your community and it’s not easy. (Mary)
 
 
This sentiment was echoed by Bella:
 
I watched a lot of people leave that I knew … The oldies, the people in their early 80s who had no family but would go out walking and there’d always be someone to say, "How are you? What are you doing?" It just broke my heart. People shouldn’t have to at that age move - savagely ugly.
 
 
Jacob (86) pointed to the lack of compassion:
 
I don’t blame the Housing Commission one bit. I blame the Baird government. He’s supposed to be a Christian. I don’t think it was a Christian like act.
 
 
Interviewees expressed their dismay that the drive to acquire the funds from the sale of the properties was being given greater priority than their own situations:
 
Why are they’re being nasty to us I do not know. But it’s just greed and it’s all for the dollar. (Helen)
 
 
There was a perception that the Barangaroo development was a key factor hastening the decision to relocate the residents:
 
We went to a meeting at Lend Lease office and we thought at that time we’re going to be consulted, and be able to put our two pats worth in and people were saying we don’t want this here and this was about two years before we were told to go. So they knew something ... But we also had at the back of our minds and we’d spoken to other people they were saying when they get this [the auditorium at Barangaroo] finished they're not going to let us stay here and that’s exactly what happened. It was almost finished and then the announcement was made that everyone will be moved and rehoused. (Desmond)
 
 
Although residents were acutely aware that Housing NSW owned the houses, there was also a strong view among the older residents that they deserved a special status as initially their homes had been built and owned by the Maritime Services Board before being handed over to Housing NSW in the mid-1980s. Residents commented that the Maritime Services Board had guaranteed life-long tenure:
 
The majority of the people originally at Millers Point were Maritime renters you know and you were there for life virtually, our lease was open. It’s still, to this day, is open-ended. (Grace)A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 12
Residents also felt that they had preserved and put a good deal of cash and labour into their homes (some are over 150 years-old) and that little or no cognisance was taken of this:
 
That house (the house was built in 1845) would not be in the condition it’s in now but for us and really going through this intense lobbying and that to get them [Housing NSW] to actually spend the money and they did end up doing it and they spent about $70,000 or $80,000 on the roof and a bit of the timber work. The house would have just fallen into disrepair if we had moved out and there was nobody in it. (Desmond)
 
 
Grace picked up from where Desmond left off:
 
Yeah, it was leaking everywhere and there was all this mildew … We saved the house.
 
 
Not long after Desmond and Grace moved out, their home of 36 years was sold for $2.5 million.

As mentioned a common sentiment was that it was not legitimate for the state government to use the cost of maintenance as one of the reasons for moving residents and that maintenance historically had been inadequate:
 
Eviction by dereliction; I said we should take a class action and take them to tribunal for failing to do maintenance. You know we should try and find some legal way of forcing them to repair these properties other than to just turn around and use the excuse that it would cost too much to fix them. If they'd have done the proper maintenance in the first place, they wouldn’t have that excuse now. (Emily)
 
 
The Sirius building was viewed as an obvious alternative for settling older residents:
 
There are lifts, secure doors and so it is a much safer, physically safer and easier environment. So I think they could have done that and you're talking about an aged cohort who probably will not live more than another 10 years if that. But yeah, the minister you know saying these people have water views. Well yes. No one wanted to live in them for over 100 years … so I don’t think that is appropriate coming from a minister. (Bella)
 
 
4. Why residents decided to move
 
Initially residents sensed that they could fight the move; but when it became apparent that the New South Wales government was absolutely determined to move all of the residents, many felt that resistance was futile and would be too stressful: A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 13




We fought it at first you know. We thought this is terrible. They can’t do this to us. Well actually we don’t own the houses. They’ve got you by the balls so to speak and we just faced the fact that we’re going to have to move … I wouldn’t blame anyone wanting to get out. In our case … we just saw the writing on the wall. We thought this is going to drag on and on … I went on the protest marches and all the rest of it. I went to Parliament House the day of the announcement … and we sat in the Parliament and … Alex Greenwich [MP] he stood up and you know made a few points on our behalf and all the Liberals just walked out or just went on with reading their newspapers or whatever they were doing … I just think these people hanging on, good luck to them, but I personally I couldn’t put up with that stress for two years of not knowing where you were going to end up. So it just got to me. I mean it sort of wears you down after a while … and once a few people left you thought the writing’s on the wall. You can bang your head against a brick wall for the next couple of years and get really stressed out over it or you can get on with your life and that’s what we decided. (Desmond)
 
 
There was a feeling that relocation was an inevitability and if you did not move it would ultimately not be in your interests. Many of the residents felt intimidated and found the pressure of not knowing what was going to happen unbearable, so decided to push ahead with accepting the Housing NSW offer:
 
You were wondering how long you were going to be there. What if they don’t find you a place? Are they going to kick us out? Are they going to get the bailiffs? (Grace)
 
 
A concern was that a refusal to move could result in the household concerned being offered inappropriate and or dismal alternative accommodation by Housing NSW:
 
Pressure was put upon us by the government that if we didn’t get out, we’d be offered two places and we’d have to take one of them. If we didn’t they'd just say, "Well you're going to the back of the list", sort of thing. That’s the way they was going to punish us … for not moving. (Pat)
 
 
Pat felt that the pressure placed on residents was intense and had created much fear:
 
They'd (the relocation officers) come knocking on your door or ring you up and say, "We want to see you at a certain date", or drop a letter in and say, "We want to see you at a certain date, a certain time and we’d like you to be there", and if you can’t be there you know as I say they’d half threaten you, you know … It’s got to be done before this date. You can imagine the worry it did put into people … There's a lot of old people around there who are not well and this didn’t help them.
 
 
Residents felt powerless and sensed that their future was out of their hands:
 
Well you couldn’t withstand it because it just felt like it was inevitable and so just either bring it on or and tell me what you're going to do with me. I felt a bit like a A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 14



puppet. You know, like what are you going to do with me? What have you got planned for me? … I felt like I was fighting a losing battle and that I thought of my health and I could probably use the opportunity to get a better place. (Emily)
 
 
Ashleigh told of how she felt intimidated by the process and concluded that she had to comply:
 
I'm not very easily intimidated but they did … I’ve got a lot of pets … I didn’t want to be stuck in a unit somewhere and all the pets have to go and you know that was causing me grief … and so you know cos that was December and we had to be out by March and I'm thinking they're threatening to terminate us and all this if we don’t cooperate you know and that was … and then it’s sort of like a threat and then you’re thinking, "Well I can’t really afford to live anywhere else besides Housing. I don’t want to be on the street" and the kids are saying, "Mum, you're going to have to go. So you're going to have to find something".
 
 
In the end she felt totally worn down and felt that she had to move:
 
In the end I’d had enough … Yeah, I'd had enough of feeling stressed and not feeling like I had a home. I was just there you know. Like that’s how they made me feel and anxious and all that.
 
 
Besides Bella, none of the residents interviewed wanted to move from Millers Point. Although some were dissatisfied with the condition of their homes due to a lack of proper maintenance and resultant leaks, damp and mould, they wanted to stay in Millers Point. There is no doubt that the condition of many of the homes was so poor that for some residents a move was viewed as an opportunity to improve their situation:
 
I think there was a long-term plan … As I say there's an upstairs and downstairs in High Street and about every six months they had to re-tar the roofs up there you know … because the heat would make it bubble up and crack and once it cracked it was you know leaking with the water with the rain coming in. So they had to resurface it … and that’s what the Maritime [Services Board] used to do. When Housing took over there was none of that and as I say the water just went right through the places. So there was a long-term plan [of neglect] I'd say, yeah. (Pat)
 
 
The condition of his home and the perception that housing would not carry out the necessary repairs, was a key factor in Pat’s decision to move:
 
It was leaking and you just wasn’t comfortable living there no more. You knew that they weren’t going to do nothing for you … Well that’s it mate. You know it’s [the lack of maintenance] still going on down there … Like a mate of mine’s down there now and the back of his place is black you know and he’s still living there. I said mate, "It’ll bloody kill you. Full of fungus. It’d blow in your belly" … This is the way they were treating people to get them out … I’d still rather be in me old place you know and if they looked after it you know and looked after the tenants right too A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 15



sort of thing. But I could just see it was going to get worse and worse … and I don’t think I could have put up with it … They wouldn’t fix the places. The places were a disgrace at the end of it - rising damp and you know busted windows and they just wouldn’t do nothing for you.
 
 
Emily had had a similar experience of historic neglect:
 
It was a one-bedroom unit. Fairly small. It was in fairly good condition when I moved in there but I had some problems with leaking roofs and stuff which Housing never came and fixed. The problems got worse and worse. When I left there, the lounge room ceiling in one corner there was a torrent of rain whenever it rained. There was mould all over the ceiling.
 
 
Like Pat, she was adamant that the neglect had been deliberate:
 
Yeah, it was obvious they were never going to fix any of the properties. Some of the properties were in such a terrible state of repairs, [but] it wouldn’t matter how many times we called them, they wouldn’t come and attend to anything. I don’t know if it was purposely intended to demoralise us. I think it was their plan for a very long time that they were going to sell the buildings, so there wasn’t any point in fixing them up. I mean it sort of became more apparent especially when the news broke that we were all getting moved.
 
 
She felt that the poor condition of her unit may have had an impact on her health:
 
There's no proof that it was but … I mean with the mould in the unit I mean I got Housing in the first place because at one stage in my life I was extremely ill and I was on the disability pension … and I'm very subject to allergies and things like that. And I started to have a lot of sleep disturbances while I was living there and I developed sleep apnoea which is actually quite severe. And yeah, I can’t, I don’t have proof that it was the mould doing it but I know from my history and what I've been through medically in the past that it certainly would not have been helpful to me to be in that environment.
 
 
The condition of her home was a key reason for Emily deciding to move:
 
See, they don’t give you much choice cos if you're living in squalid conditions what can you choose? Do you want to live in this mouldy you know bathroom with a cracked bathroom sink … We had no choice. They really put us in an impossible position.
 
 
The policy of placing people with complex needs in public housing made life difficult for some residents. There was a feeling that this was another prong in Housing NSW’s strategy to undermine the area: A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 16




And some of the people that they moved in there [Millers Point], they just annoyed people badly you know. They were on drugs and everything else. They just drove you insane you know … (Pat)
 
 
Emily felt that besides not maintaining the houses, there were various other indicators that there was a long-term plan to demoralise the residents. This involved running down the bus service and closing a couple of vital services:
 
Yeah, when I first moved to Millers Point we had about six buses. We had one that used to go to the Marrickville Metro the shopping centre there. We had one that used to go to Bondi I think. We had one well the 431 and 433 goes to Glebe and Balmain. … Then slowly they killed all the buses. We had the one that used to come to Kingsford, … but yeah we had so many but when I left there were only the two … It was a long-term plan. We had a post office when I moved there, a TAB and a dry-cleaners. All gone. They closed the post office down and sold it.
 
 
5. The impact on residents of being told they had to move
 
The announcement in March 2014 that residents were to be moved and their homes sold on the private market evoked enormous stress.

Many of the interviewees spoke about being traumatised and extremely anxious. An older resident who has been in the area for over 50 years and in her present home for 25 years, described the devastating impact the announcement has had on her. At the time of writing (September 2016) Mary was still fighting the eviction order:
 
I don’t think I've been the same person, emotionally you know. I've been a bit of a nervous wreck. I've been angry and can’t sleep. Been to the doctor, you know gut feelings. I … mean I had a letter, I think I told you that I was secure for the rest of my life from Maritime Services Board … so naturally you thought you're going to be secure … till your dying days so that’s why I stayed here. Otherwise I might have contemplated moving somewhere else years ago ... So you just think, "What’s life all about?" So you have your depression and you have your sleeplessness and you have yeah, and all you seem to talk about when you run into anyone is all about this.
 
 
A resident who was born in Millers Point and who, like Mary, is refusing to move, reacted extremely badly to the government’s plans:
 
Well I couldn’t eat or sleep for over a week. If I tried to eat, I was sick. At that time I was job searching. I had to take time off from that so I had to go and get a medical certificate to take me off work, or off job seeking. After that I had counselling cos I couldn’t handle it. My daughter kept saying, "Well move". I said, A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 17



"I don’t want to move. I can’t move. I said, "I wouldn’t know how to live anywhere else". (Pamela)
 
 
Another long-term resident told of her extreme distress. Eve (84) had lived in the area for over 60 years. She could not understand why Housing NSW was so intent on selling all of the homes:
 
It is the most distressing, just one of the most distressing things I’ve ever gone through. And I don’t think that we should be put into that situation. I think they should be a bit more caring and we’ve had nobody from Department of Housing come down to say, "Look, I’m sorry about this but they decided that they want these properties. Well you’ll have to move sometime or whatever". No, you’re all out. We’re selling the lot. (Eve)
 
 
For some of the more recent residents, the announcement appeared to precipitate deep depression:
 
I was a new resident of Millers Point so I didn’t have that 40 year background but it was traumatic enough without having that 40 year background … It was that uncertainty … So my anxiety levels went up. My anger levels went through the roof … I would just explode over nothing because I was so angry at the situation … I ended up hospitalised in December for three days because the pressure and the stress just got so bad. (Fiona)

After the announcement … for two weeks I just remember I think I didn’t want to get out of the house [but] I had to. And just I couldn’t look at the people. I couldn’t look at their faces. Everything was grey to me, so grey, looking at those women. Some of the older women sitting on the benches and they … looked like scared … And I couldn’t look at them. I couldn’t walk on the street. It was like a grey cloud literally. It felt like, everything is so grey. And then I thought of harming myself, of doing something drastic and I thought I’ve got to make sure that I let people know why and that’s what I thought that it’s not good to think that way and that’s when I contacted Mindy [counsellor] and it was like, "I need help, Mindy". And then Mindy called Claire [the relocation officer] and then Claire left me alone. (Melissa)

But as I said, I mean it was my home. I loved living there. I felt really safe there and it [the move] was a completely traumatic experience … It took a real health toll. Not sleeping, unable to concentrate … I was smoking like a packet a day. I was smoking about eight a day before all that started … I'm normally a great sleeper. I was sleeping three hours a night … I couldn’t do anything. I became a bit obsessive at times like just anxious to the verge of panic attacks … (Laura)
 
 
Having problems sleeping was a common response: A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 18




It was at the time it really you know I went to the doctor and I got sleeping pills … I just couldn’t sleep at night you know thinking, "Where are we going to end up?" (Desmond)
 
 
Ashleigh became more and more reclusive and ultimately moved into her bedroom and lost her emotional attachment to her home:
 
That was home and then in the end they had me that way that I was just living in my bedroom. I wasn’t enjoying the house at all anymore, that’s how they'd made me. I just had my TV in there. I wasn’t cooking food. I'd just be getting takeaway stuff or, because I work in a pub and I'm the cook, I'd have lunch in work and wouldn’t have dinner you know and stuff like that and then I didn’t want to be in the house anymore. That’s how they got me in the end. It wasn’t my home you know. Like it didn’t feel like home … In the end I didn’t want to be there they just made it feel like it wasn’t mine anymore.
 
 
She experienced intense anxiety:
 
And then like when we got told, a note under the door, three months to get out and there are so many old people who’ve died down there from all the stress. I mean I was stressed out myself because that was my home where the kids had grown up and everything. And you know so much stress and anxiety that you know I'm now taking medication for anxiety cos I just couldn’t function properly.
 
 
Historically a social person, Ashleigh stopped going out:
 
I used to like going out all the time and going for lunches and then I just cut everybody off. Just stopped everything. Yeah, I didn’t want to do anything.
 
 
She found the response of the public deeply disappointing and hurtful:
 
Plus the public as well … Well you don’t own them [the homes] you know. Like, of course we don’t own them, but we can’t afford to live anywhere else. It’s a home. It doesn’t matter whether you own it or don’t own it, it’s a home you know.
 
 
Interviewees spoke about having sleepless nights and intense anxiety and lapsing into what sounded like serious depression. Emily recounted her experience:
 
Most of the time I just wanted it to be over, cos it was just too stressful. I don’t know. I just felt so anxious. It was like well if you’re going to move me just move me now, or tell me where I'm going to go because this is just … unbearable.
 
 
She found the stress of possibly losing her home and community unbearable:
 
It was awful. Being in limbo and having the threat of losing your home and not just losing your home but your community’s gone - your stability and stuff like that. A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 19
Laura said she felt bereft: ‘I mean it was my home. I loved living there. I felt really safe there and it was a completely traumatic experience’.

Many of the interviewees had spent most or a large part of their life in Millers Point:
 
We lived in Millers Point for 36 years in the same house. We got married there. So when the announcement was made … you know it was a shock. We thought we were there for life basically … (Desmond)
 
 
The longevity of residence meant that their homes were far more than brick and mortar. Grace captured this notion of home:
 
It was a freestanding cottage. Three bedrooms, the third bedroom was tiny, but it [the house] sort of defined us in a way. Like people got to know us as you're the couple that lives … opposite the tower you know. That was our reference point. If you're looking for the house, just look for the Maritime Service control tower …Then looking through some of those photos nearly every photo with our daughter it’s near that house, at the front or … (Grace)
 
 
6. The impact of moving from Millers Point
 
The impact of being forced to move varied depending on the circumstances of the interviewee concerned. For one of the interviewees the move was welcomed. Thus Bella, who had moved to the Blue Mountains, was pleased that she had been given the opportunity to move. She felt that the mountain air and open spaces has been good for her poor health.
 
I came up with some friends who live in Springwood and I came up to look after their house while they were away and I just thought well being surrounded by trees is a really nice way to live.

Interviewer: So you're pleased with your move?

Bella: I am pleased. Yes, very pleased.
 
 
However, for all of the interviewees being forced to leave Millers Point has been a bitterly painful experience. Many of the older residents had lived in Millers Point their whole lives or for most of their lives. The longevity of residence meant that the loss of their homes in Millers Point and having to move away from their community was extremely difficult:
 
The house you know had a lot of memories. Our life was in that house … It’s taken us a long time to get used to this place … I mean I don’t think I’ll ever really get over it to be quite honest with you. (Grace) A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 20
Probably the key impact was terrible isolation. The interviewees felt part of a community. They had social connections they could rely on. Overnight these were stripped away: ‘It was like leaving your family’ (Jacob, 86 years-old). Jacob had lived in the Millers Point area for 68 years. He desperately missed the companionship he had in the area:
 
It was like one big family. Everyone knew everyone and if anyone was sick they'd help out and if you didn’t see someone in the traps or in the street they'd be asking how they are … I found it very good in Kent Street. You sit out there and read the paper and people would come past and have a yap and all that … Just being able to walk down the street to the pub and you always know someone there. Have a couple of drinks, walk around the streets and bump into someone … Yeah. You could always go down the road and meet someone to talk to and sit outside the post office or… all that there … We each knew each other’s interests and you knew what to talk about. Those friendships build up over time. It doesn’t happen overnight.
 
 
I asked Jacob how his friends who had moved from Millers Point were faring. He emphasised the loneliness of their situation:
 
They miss Millers Point. They're all isolated like me. Like Donny knows no one where he is. He says people that live around him they swap, ‘Good mornings’ and that’s about it.
 
 
In an endeavour to dissipate the loss of companionship, Jacob and three of his old Millers Point friends [all of them have moved] have a regular doctor’s appointment in Millers Point on the first Monday of the month:
 
I still go down there [Millers Point] every month to the doctor and there's four of us meet and have a drink. It’s like a reunion. We all make our appointment with the doctor on the same day.
 
 
Not surprisingly, Jacob also missed the location:
 
And the beautiful walks. I used to walk right around the Harbour at times, the botanical gardens and things like that. Miss all that. Down the quay, get a boat over to Manly, walk around there … Go to Mosman and get the bus up the hill and walk back to the ferry. I miss all that.
 
 
Laura found the move debilitating health-wise:
 
It was really difficult. It was well it [the anxiety] would come in waves you know. It was like sort of like just lurching from crisis to crisis … It was, it took a real health toll. Not sleeping, unable to concentrate.
 
 
Ashleigh was beginning to settle and recover from the trauma of moving: A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 21




I think I'm a bit calmer now that I've moved out. Now that I know where I am settled.
 
 
Asked what she missed, she responded, ‘The community, the community feel. That’s the main thing and the characters that were down there. You know it’s [the area she has moved to] just nothing. It’s a ghost town’.

The loss of community was deeply felt by Emily:
 
I miss being able to walk out the front door and know people. I feel a lot more lonely … I wanted a nice place, but I also just wanted a bit, like you say before to be connected. I got a beautiful place, but I'm not connected. I don’t know. I just had to weigh it up or accept it. So once I agreed to this, that was it … It [Millers Point] was my comfortable place. I never felt lonely … I could go for a walk at 10 o’clock at night if I couldn’t sleep. Yeah, little things. Like Vivid started last night. I mean if I was in Millers Point last night I would have gone for a walk and had a look at the lights but I sat here and had a few wines and watched telly you know. I mean it’s just a million miles away from where I was before.
 
 
She could not bring herself to visit Millers Point. When asked if she had been back to Millers Point, she responded,
 
No, it’s too sad … Yeah. I keep telling myself I'm going to do it one day but I think I just feel too sad … A very good friend of mine’s been there several times and he said, "it’s like a ghost town", and I don’t want to see it like that.
 
 
The mutual support was a major feature. This was poignantly captured by Emily:
 
There was a boy lived in Millers Point … He has no arms. … They were always in a pack and I remember at one of the meetings we had his mum was saying, "My boy’s got no arms and he’s okay here. He can go to the pub and have a drink. He’s got his friends". And you know like to put him in a different environment. He’s one I wonder about. I wonder what happened to him … Without the support of his pack I can just see he’s probably going to have to be in some assisted care home or something cos the way they used to take him to the toilet even. The way they used to look after him …
 
 
Although Emily, by her own admission was not outgoing, she desperately missed the companionship she had in Millers Point:
 
It was a friendly atmosphere you know. If ever I was sitting at home really bored I could go up to the Captain Cook [hotel] and there was always somebody there that you could have a chat with … Slowly over the time that I lived there I think now looking back on it, I could say I probably knew 95% of the people that lived there … Friends used to come and visit me and they'd say, "You know everybody". It wasn’t just there. I mean there was the community centre you know where if you A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 22



were hard on your luck you could go and have lunch and talk to people there … You could just sit on the nature strip and somebody would come and talk to you or you'd strike up a chat or something. There were a lot of little places you could go and sit and … people would talk to you. It was very easy the layout of the place to actually meet other people and strike up a chat.
 
 
Her social life had been totally undercut by the move. Not only did she not know anybody in the new area, but instead of a ten-minute commute to work she now had an hour’s drive each way:
 
It’s a bottleneck both ways and you know financially it’s difficult. I have to drive every day because transport out here is crap and so petrol to get there and back, two hours travelling every day … and I don’t have any social life. I never go out. Like never go out.
 
 
Her isolation was a direct function of the move. It had increased her financial burden and distanced her from her usual social milieu:
 
Yeah, I'm on an island here now ... Since I've been here not one of my friends has been to visit me. Too hard to get to … I’ve tried going up to the pub up here and sitting down and having a drink, but nobody talks to you, I just sit and have a drink by myself and then I think this is boring and I’ll go. But there’s no focal point. No community you know. A place where people could get together and get to know each other. Like I'm here, but if I want to get to know the other people where do I go? … I'm isolated yeah, very isolated for you know a single woman without kids. I'm in a really mumsy family environment where I feel like I don’t have a place.
 
 
Asked if she would relocate to Millers Point if she could, she responded: ‘In a heartbeat. I'd be back there in a heartbeat’.

The loss of community was a persistent theme. Desmond and Grace reflected on everyday life in Millers Point compared to their present situation:
 
Desmond: Generally, the people we’ve met around here have been pretty good. [However] it’s a different atmosphere. Millers Point was really unique. I’d say there’s nowhere else like it in Australia … the generation after generation families. I mean there’s so many stories …
 
Grace: And we still talk about people who have died you know 20 years ago … I don’t think you'd get that in many suburbs … But people don’t mix …… you know … The ones we know are nice but there's not that mix where you, you see them in the street, "Hi, how are you going? I haven’t seen you for ages." … [In Millers Point], you couldn’t walk out the door without bumping into somebody you know and you'd say, "Look, I've really got to go. I've been talking to you for half an hour". You don’t have that here. A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 23



Desmond: I'd go out to get the paper in the morning you know and it’d take me half an hour, 40 minutes and … I’ve got to go to work, I’ll be late. You don’t have that here. We understand this is a different place …

Grace: Really, to be quite honest, there are times here I'm thinking I'm in suburbia and we’ve never sort of lived in suburbia and that is a big difference. One minute I could walk into the city you know. Here I think, I’ve got to get a bus, I don’t think I’ll go today.
 
 
Louis was 90 when he was moved from Millers Point. He had lived in the area since 1954 and had moved into the Sirius Building in 1980. He had no social ties in the area he had been moved to and desperately missed the few social contacts he had had in the Sirius Building:
 
When you are old you can’t make friends with young people. I understand it because I have seen it many times. And the old people? Well, they have their own way … A good relationship with someone of your age, it’s very hard. And when I left Sirius a few people of my age or a little bit younger but they're gone so I'm on my own and here there’s no one.
 
 
He spoke about his friendships in Millers Point developing over many years:
 
You see the contact has been over many years - over 60 years. I went to the doctor last week and there was a lady there that I knew her 60 years ago, something like that. So that’s a contact … and I wouldn’t get a contact with a person of her age now … No, I'm on my own here. I think there won’t be any connection … or you know someone who you can trust,
 
 
He was hoping that somebody he knew from the Sirius Building would be relocated nearby. This did not happen:
 
Anyway I don’t know where they are gone. I went back [to the Sirius Building] a few weeks ago and I saw the light in one of the flats and it was a little bit rude so I didn’t want to bother them but they're probably gone by now.
 
 
Jacob had a similar view about making friends at this late stage in his life:
 
So they [the local residents] all seem pretty nice you know, but it’s not the same as there [Millers Point]. See, it takes you a long time to make friends and over 60 years you build up friends.
 
 
In the new area Jacob has no history. In Millers Point he was well-known for his community involvement:
 
I did a lot of work for the community down there. We had a club, what they called the Breakfast Club. We used to do the breakfast for the kids before they went to A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 24



school. Those kids are now adults with kids but they never forget what you did for them
 
 
Even residents who had not had a long history in Millers Point found the move extremely difficult:
 
And then when I got here kind of I was happy to leave Millers Point by that stage because I just wanted to put all the stress behind me. But then I got here and I just went you know, I just got really depressed when I moved in here. I'm just starting to emerge from it now. I've been here four months … It’s been awful. I really felt completely traumatised … I think you go through a grieving process once you leave as well which I mean I had anticipated you know. It’s just really sad. (Laura)
 
 
A few residents had managed to move to an area where they had some social connections. It made a substantial difference:
 
If I were to move to somewhere that I didn’t know anybody, I think I would have been buggered mate (Pat).
 
 
All of the interviewees missed the sense of community in Millers Point. They viewed it as a genuine and unique community where people watched out for one another.
 
Millers Point … they accepted you there. I don’t know. It was just a really good, strong community. They looked after each other there and you know a lot of us talk about each other and everything but everyone was there to help … (Ashleigh)
 
 
The community was often described as a big family. This was especially so pre the takeover of the housing stock by Housing NSW:
 
We all miss one another really because we lived there for so long you know. It was like a whole big family at one stage of the game before they started moving different people into the place you know. (Pat)
 
 
The long history of many households made it an unusually tight community. When Pat was asked what was it like growing up in Millers Point, he responded:
 
Fantastic … We went to the kindergarten there at the bottom of High Street there and then we went up to Fort Street primary school up at Observatory Hill and from there I went to Cleveland Street … The community was tight as anything like. Tight as a bank. Beautiful. If anybody had any problems there was always somebody you could go to and talk it out. And you know people there that you know they sort of been the leaders of the place sort of thing you know and you could always look up to him and he’d give you good advice and the right advice you know. They wouldn’t put you on a bum steer or anything … As I say, we used to you know work together, party together and you know get along together. A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 25
The feeling of being safe and protected was a common refrain:
 
I knew I was safe there … If something happened there was someone to go to you know that’d help you. (Ashleigh)

It was easy. It was comfortable. It was a safe pace. It was somewhere where cos I'm a single woman I could go out at night. I didn’t feel scared ever. Before moving to Millers Point I was at Waterloo … I left there with I think something like 35 or 36 incident reports. I had a home invasion once. I was broken into so many times. (Emily)
 
 
Another single woman commented:
 
And I always felt really safe in Millers Point … I’d feel safe walking home at night through you know up Argyll Street … I loved living there you know. It was my home and I certainly did not want to leave and you know I still believe that there was no good reason why we should have had to have left. I think for me, our place was great. It was really well maintained. It was a beautiful place. We kept up our end of the bargain. (Laura)
 
 
For older people, especially those living by themselves, Millers Point was a haven:
 
And the old people … You know if we hadn’t seen them for a while [we’ll] make sure they're all right. See if they're all right. Things like that. (Ashleigh)
 
 
Difficult neighbours were an issue for some interviewees:
 
On the other side I had about three or four different neighbours and the last one was the neighbour from hell. Her mother lived down the road and they used to scream if the dogs were barking. Used to bang on the fence, used to swear, took me to court. (Pat)
 
 
7. Perceptions of the accommodation in the new area and accommodation offered in Millers Point
 
It was evident that Housing NSW had, in most cases, endeavoured to ensure that the places people were moved into, were in reasonable condition and not in remote locations. Most of the interviewees who had moved were pleased with their accommodation.
 
I'm lucky. I live in Glebe. It’s a nice little house … I know I'm lucky but the other places that we had been shown were seriously awful. I was lucky because in some ways I think the tenants who were here before completely thrashed the place so the place had a new kitchen and bathroom, so it was clean. It’s water tight which is A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 26



good. And I like Glebe you know and it’s a nice little block. I've got nice neighbours … It’s a nice little street and I feel really safe here. But it’s not my old house but you know it’s not bad. (Laura)
 
 
Desmond and Grace had moved to an established low-rise public housing area that also has some private dwellings. They were pleased with the actual house. It was in far better condition than their Millers Point home:
 
But what I like about E …. as far as a [public] housing suburb goes you know like you’ve got a bit of land and it’s pretty bloody good really. Our next-door neighbour reckons it’s heaven, and it probably is compared to some places. (Desmond)
 
 
There was an effort to accommodate the needs of most residents:
 
I found them [Housing NSW] all right mate. Yes, I did find them all right. They moved us. They paid our gas bill and electricity bill the first few weeks and that and you know anything we wanted done in the first couple of months they tried to do for us. I got a new shower recess and … I got the bath tub taken out and just a shower recess put there, so they done that for me. (Pat)
 
 
Emily was clear that her accommodation in the new area was a great improvement on her neglected accommodation in Millers Point:
 
Well I'm glad I’ve got an environment that’s much better for my health. I'm away from the mould. I love this unit. It’s 100% much better than the unit I had at Millers Point simply because it [the Millers Point] cottage was just full of mould and needed new carpets …
 
 
Jacob was pleased with his accommodation: ‘It’s nice I can’t complain about the unit. It’s lovely’.

In some cases residents were moved from a two-bedroom apartment to a one-bedroom. Louis’s apartment was hopelessly overcrowded. When asked if he felt comfortable in the new accommodation he responded, ‘I wouldn’t say comfortable, but passable’.

Perceptions of the accommodation offered were shaped by the circumstances of residents. Those who were in homes that had been neglected and in disrepair as a result or were small, were more likely to be amenable to the homes offered. In contrast, Mary was in a three-bedroom home in Millers Point that was in superb condition. She had put a great deal of effort into her home where she had lived for 25 years and was disdainful of the accommodation she had been offered:
 
Then she [the relocation officer] showed me this place at Glebe - three bedroom which you couldn’t throw a cat in and needed a lot to be done to it. I said, … "It may have two toilets but look at the state of the toilet". She said, "What do you A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 27



mean?" I said "… It’s filthy and yellow". "Oh maybe we can get you a new toilet" … I said, "What about the floorboards, look at it." "We can’t afford floorboards" … Then when I went upstairs to the second bedroom I couldn’t have fitted a double bed and she said, "Well you’ll have to downsize". I said, "No I won’t downsize. I have family and I have grandchildren". I said, "No. I'm not doing that" ... I think it’s an insult what they’ve shown me.
 
 
In November 2015 the government agreed to renovate existing stock in Millers Point and create 28 apartments (24 were one-bedroom, 1 is two-bedroom and 3 are three- bedroom) to accommodate Millers Point residents who are refusing to move (Mowbray, 2015). However, most of the residents had moved at the time of this announcement and most of those still in Millers Point felt that the units were too small and not suitable for older, more frail residents. By August 2016, only 13 of the units had been occupied.
 
8. Why some residents have refused to move despite the intense pressure imposed
 
In July 2016 about 50 residents were still living in Millers Point and had declared that they had no intention of moving. For the residents who have decided to resist the move, the pressure is intense. Pat has moved, but has retained his connections in Millers Point:
 
The people that are still there, now they're going through bloody hell. I couldn’t imagine what they're going through now because it’s every second day they're [HFousing NSW] just dropping little hints on them that they’ve got to go ... I think it was in March [2016] that everybody had to be out and as I say, everybody’s not out. They're still boxing on there. And like every time I go down to see them it’s getting worse. It’s a ghost town mate. A disgrace. The empty places round there. They’ve got security guards knocking on doors all bloody night. And there was one fellow there that they were knocking on his door and telling him he shouldn’t have been living there you know. Like, "What are you doing in this place? This place is supposed to be empty". He said, "I've been here for bloody donkeys days. What are you talking about?" It’s a hassle mate, that’s what it is. Imagine living there by yourself and people knocking on your door at midnight saying you're not supposed to be there.
 
 
The interviews with the six residents who have refused to move revealed common themes as to why they were intent on staying. Key overlapping reasons were their age, long history in the area and strong sense of community, input into their homes, social ties, a strong perception that Millers Point was a fundamental part of their biographies and a reluctance to move into an unfamiliar area where they would not know anybody. Helen (73) was born A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 28



in Millers Point and had lived in the same house for about 30 years. She outlined her history and why she was refusing to move:
 
Well I was born around here. My parents were born around here and my grandparents and anyhow as far as I know we’ve been living in the area of five generations … I don’t think it’s fair for them to start throwing the people out of the places you know because these houses was built for the workmen on the wharves years ago and they had, they brought up their families around here you know.
 
 
She was extremely reluctant to move to a different area:
 
And the people the older people are not used to these [areas being offered]. They're only used to here and like we’ve had our differences and troubles and all the rest of it but everyone looked after each other around here you know … And they worked day and night for this area and then they’ve [the government] got the hide to take the people who’ve lived here all their lives and the older people are very frightened to go to other suburbs because they don’t know the layout of the place. And it’s just like a little community around here. Everyone knew each other and if there was any trouble, if you were in trouble you could knock on anyone’s door and they would take you in you know and fix up what was going on …
 
 
She felt that if she moved it would have a serious impact on her health:
 
I tell you I don’t want to leave here. I like the place, not that I've lived anywhere else but it’ll break me up cos I couldn’t get used to another place you know …
 
 
Mary had lived in the area for 50 years and had been in her present home for 25 years. She succinctly captured the sentiments of the resisting residents:
 
When this happened a lot of people moved on their own accord. They were happy to move … but I think they should have considered the elderly and the people that have lived here all their life … Yes, you raise your children … and all of a sudden where do you go? What do you do? You’ve had your neighbourhood. You’ve had your community and it’s not easy … and you’ve got the fear of your insecurity. You’ve got fear of I guess of how you’ll go with your neighbours and things and your community. You don’t know where you're going.
 
 
She had put a tremendous amount of effort into her home and it was far more than accommodation:
 
Well it’s your home and I had the kitchen redesigned. I had a second toilet put in … And now they said they wouldn’t reimburse me for anything when I left or anything like that … so that’s a little bit hard too. And all of a sudden it’s time you downsized and I said, "Well I don’t know whether I'm ready to downsize". I said, "… I won’t get anything like this I understand if I have to go but I want something equivalent. I want a three bedroom and I want somewhere with my furniture". A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 29



"We don’t count furniture … I’ll give you a price for that". In other words I can go out and buy some Fantastic or Freedom furniture. I said, "Well my furniture is priceless. It’s family furniture and why should I just put it out in the street". So they're not considering these aspects. They're just thinking of the dollars.
 
 
The uniqueness and longevity of the Millers Point community was also emphasised by Mary:
 
See when I first came here, you have your children like you know and you start off with kindergarten and that’s where you build a community and a family and your group and your friends … It has been a very special community here … We’ve always picked everyone up in a lot of things we’ve done behind the scenes. Meals and food and when people are down and out we’ve always been there for each other.
 
 
The idea of losing the social ties and sense of community was daunting:
 
The community, the destruction, but they're realising now overseas that it’s [community] very important. It’s all reverting right back now in America that community is very important because people are dying and suiciding and no one knows their neighbours … (Mary)
 
 
Asked how she would feel if she had to leave, Helen responded,
 
Really sick. It’d break me heart, it really would. If you're young it’s okay but as you get older you don’t feel like moving to other suburbs you know.
 
 
She has refused to cooperate with the relocation officers and is determined to stay:
 
Yes, I’ve never been to one [possible alternative public housing]. I don’t want to go. I told them straight. I said, ‘If youse think you're taking me you're quite mistaken. I'd rather stay here’. If it come to that, say I've got to go, I’ll tell you what I'm going to do and I don’t give a bugger who knows it, get, even though it’ll cost me my life, I’ll go up the flag staff up here and have a tent and live in a bloody tent rather than get shot out of Millers Point I tell you … It’s a sad and horrible thing to think that you have to go from where you lived all your life you know … I think it’s scandalous to put people out you know if they haven’t done anything wrong and if they're looking after the houses okay.
 
 
Gail (89) is visually severely disabled and at the time of the interview was one of the few remaining residents in Sirius. She has been resident in the Millers Point area since the 1970s. It is evident that if Gail is moved, her capacity to live independently will be shattered. She was determined to stay: ‘You don’t push this little bunny around … I'm a tough old bugger you know’. She commented that the places she had been offered were not at all suitable: A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 30




Well they offered me a place … but it was miniscule. There was one bedroom. Now I’ve got the second bedroom there and I've got forever people coming … I mean not too far down the track I'm going to need a carer …
 
 
Pamela’s (65) ties to Millers Point are profound:
 
I was born and raised here [the home where she lived at the time of the interview] with five brothers … Yeah, my father was born here. His father was born here. My family go back so far to the 1860s having lived and worked in Millers Point in the Rocks.
 
 
She was extremely fearful and reluctant to move out of Millers Point:
 
If I was to stay in the same area [Millers Point] in a different house I wouldn’t mind that. But to move to an area I’ve never lived in or you know I wouldn’t know how to handle it cos you wouldn’t know who your neighbour is … On the news every day there’s an incident where there's a shooting or a stabbing or home invasion so you wouldn’t know whether you moved into an ex druggie’s place or you know. I think I’d be sleeping with me eyes open so to speak.
 
 
Eve (84) had lived in Millers Point for most of her life and would not contemplate moving. She was furious at how the residents were depicted:
 
I think it is definitely cruel to move us old people around like we didn’t matter. Look I wouldn’t have been able to cry years ago …. Now talking about this it is just so distressing and all we want to do is to stay here … I mean they’re making us out to be wasters. That we’re not deserving of living here because we don’t have plenty of money, but … you know this is our home. This is our area. We maintain it …
 
 
Among the older residents there was a strong feeling that residents had been given the right to stay as long as they paid their rent:
 
The Maritime Services Board always said that you pay your rent and keep your nose clean you are here for life and there was never you know an issue about having to move on. And of course the community kept us here. (Janice)
 
 
9. Conclusion
 
What is evident is that the actual and intended removal of public housing residents from Millers Point unleashed a great deal of hardship and distress. Although there is no doubt that for some residents, especially the more recent, moving from Millers Point was not viewed as a major disruption or even negative, for others it has been an extremely stressful event and the adverse impacts continue to resonate. For the latter group, Millers Point A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 31



is/was far more than a place. It is intimately intertwined with their own histories and is viewed as a genuine community where people feel comfortable, in control of their lives and have strong social ties. These residents expected to live in Millers Point for the remainder of their days. Many had been given that guarantee by the Maritime Services Board. They ‘loved’ the area, saw themselves as its custodians and were extremely proud of its history and heritage listing.

In sum, the way the New South Wales government has gone about the move was viewed by most interviewees as brutal. The announcement caught residents by surprise. Interviewees felt that the minister responsible should have met with them face-to-face to discuss possible options. The announcement that all residents were to be moved was catastrophic for some residents and precipitated extreme anxiety and depression. Interviewees spoke about not being able to sleep, falling ill and feeling an enormous sadness.

There was much disparagement of the government’s argument that the move was necessary due to the high cost of maintenance of Millers Point properties and that the proceeds from the sale of Millers Point housing would be used to build 1,500 public housing dwellings. As mentioned, many interviewees argued that maintenance of their homes by Housing NSW over the last decade has been so remiss that they wondered if there had been a deliberate policy of neglect. It was argued that for decades nobody had bothered about Millers Point, but now that the area has become highly sought after, the historical residents are viewed as an encumbrance to the state government reaping a massive largesse from the sale of the 399 properties Millers Point / Sirius Building portfolio. At the beginning of August 2016, 94 Millers Point properties had been sold for $264 million - a median sale price of $2.48 million per dwelling (NSW Government, 2016). If the current trend continues it is estimated that the sale will realise $884, nearly $400 million more than the government’s projection of $500 million.

Residents posed the obvious question - why is the building of public housing solely dependent on the sale of public housing in Millers Point and the Sirius Building? Surely, the building of social housing should be financed by general revenue? This question becomes more pressing in light of the NSW government having a budget surplus of $3.4 billion in 2015-2016; it is expected to grow to $3.7 billion in 2016-2017. The surplus is mainly due to the property boom in Sydney since mid 2013. Revenue from stamp duty, $8.9 billion in 2016-2017, is predicted to rise to $9.8 billion in 2019-2020 (Nicholls, 2016).
 
The most pressing and challenging question posed by residents, is why is the NSW government so determined to move all of the residents? Why could it not allow residents who wanted to remain in their current homes in Millers Point and the Sirius Building, to stay? This is especially pertinent in the case of older residents many of whom were tenants of the Maritime Serves Board and whose association with the area stretches back generations. They have strong and important social ties in the area and would find it exceptionally difficult to settle in a new area. A typical example is Eve (84) who is highly dependent on her neighbour for support. A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 32



A just city is premised on democratic decision-making, the maintenance of diversity and social mix and the dissipating of inequality (Fainstein, 2010). The removal of Millers Point residents and the decision to sell off the Sirius Building and clear the way for its demolition has been an intensely undemocratic process. Residents’ requests for a genuine dialogue and compromise have been largely ignored. The move will intensify the already intense and growing spatial divide between rich and poor in Sydney and the social mix that at present is a feature of Millers Point will be obliterated along with its rich history.
 
In their classic study on gentrification and displacement, Hartman et al. (1982: 4-5) conclude,



Moving people involuntarily from their homes or neighbourhood is wrong. Regardless of whether it results from government or private market action, forced displacement is characteristically a case of people without the economic and political power to resist being pushed out by people with greater resources and power, people who think they have a "better" use for a certain building, piece of land, or neighbourhood. The pushers benefit, the pushees do not.
 
This statement certainly captures the dynamics of displacement in Millers Point and the Sirius Building. A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 33



Appendix
Methodology
 
The paper draws on semi-structured in-depth interviews with 13 residents (including one couple) who have moved from Millers Point and 6 residents who have thus far (September 2016) resisted the move. All of the names used are pseudonyms. Interviewees were recruited with the assistance of the Redfern Legal Centre, the Millers Point Community Working Party, Friends of Millers Point and through word of mouth. Some ex and present residents were so traumatised by the events that they felt that participating in the research would be too painful. Ethics permission was obtained through the Research & Innovation Office at the University of Technology Sydney.

In regards to the interviewees who have moved, 7 were female and 6 male; 3 were under 50; 3 were between 50 and 64; 4 were between 65 and 70 and 3 were older than 85. Ten of the interviewees lived in single person households; 2 were partnered and only one household had dependent children. All of the residents interviewed who still live in Millers Point or the Sirius Building were female and lived by themselves. The youngest was 63 and the oldest 89. Three of the interviews were phone interviews. The remainder were conducted face-to-face.

For residents who have moved away from Millers Point and the Sirius Building, the number of years that they resided there ranged from 2 to 63 years, with an average of 29 years. For those who remain in Millers Point / Sirius Building, the number of years that they have resided there ranges from 30 to 84 years, with an average of 63 years.
 
In the case of interviewees who had moved from Millers Point / Sirius Building, the semi-structured interviews covered the following themes: accommodation in Millers Point, why they decided to move, everyday life in the new area compared to life in Millers Point, perceptions of the new area, accommodation in the new area, social ties in the new area, family support, the health impacts of the move and how residents saw the future. Interviewees who had not moved from Millers Point were asked about their history in Millers Point, perceptions of everyday life in Millers Point, their accommodation, social ties, the impact of the announcement that they would have to move, why they have decided to resist the move, the removal process and how they saw the future. A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 34



References
 
Cheng, L. (2016) Heritage Council throws support behind Sydney brutalist icon. Architectureau, February. Available at: http://architectureau.com/articles/heritage-council-throws-support-behind-sydney-brutalist-icon/

Fainstein, S. (2010) The Just City. Ithaca: Cornell University Press.

Fitzgerald, S. and Keating, C. (1991) Millers Point, The Urban Village. Sydney: Hale & Iremonger.

Hartman, C., Keating, D. and LeGates, R. (1982) Displacement: How to Fight it. San Francisco Berkley: University of California Press.

Hasham, N. (2014a) Sydney waterfront public housing properties to be sold off. Sydney Morning Herald, 19 March. Available at http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/sydney-waterfront-public-housing-properties-to-be-sold-off-20140319-351fs.html

Mazzoldi, R. (2014) Millers Point: A long history. Tenant News 108.

McNally, L. and Code, B. (2016) Heritage listing push for Sydney’s iconic Sirius Building. ABC News. http://www.abc.net.au/news/2016-02-19/nsw-minister-to-consider-calls-to-protect-sirius-brutalism/7183256

Mowbray, R. (2015) NSW government: You can do better than this! The Brown Couch; Tenants’ Union of NSW. Available at http://tunswblog.blogspot.com.au/2015/11/nsw-government-you-can-do-better-than.html

Muller, S. (2016) Sirius building will not receive heritage listing, NSW government declares. Sydney Morning Herald, 31 July. Available at http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/sirius-building-will-not-receive-heritage-listing-nsw-government-declares-20160731-gqhp0f.html

Needham, K. (2014) Battle for Millers Point lost when Pru Goward took control. Sydney Morning Herald, 23 March. Available at http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/battle-for-millers-point-lost-when-pru-goward-took-control-20140322-35a6f.html

Nicholls, S. (2016) NSW budget 2016: Surpluses ahead but GST payments to collapse. Sydney Morning Herald, 21 June. Available at http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/nsw-budget-2016-surpluses-ahead-but-gst-payments-to-collapse-20160620-gpn2vm.html  A contemporary forced urban removal Shelter NSW 35



NSW Government (2016) Social housing benefit from sale of four Millers Point residences. Sydney: Finances, Services & Innovation. Available at https://www.finance.nsw.gov.au/about-us/media-releases/social-housing-benefit-sale-four-millers-point-terraces

NSW Government (1999) Millers Point Conservation Area. Sydney: Office of Environment & Heritage, NSW Government. Available at http://www.environment.nsw.gov.au/heritageapp/ViewHeritageItemDetails.aspx?ID=5001049
 
Reilly, S. (2014) Social Impact Assessment of the potential social impacts on the existing Millers Point community, and the broader housing system, that may result from the sale of any further social housing in Millers Point. Sydney: Cred Community Planning. Available at: https://www.facs.nsw.gov.au/__data/assets/file/0005/295592/Millers_Point_SIA.PDF  

Saulwick, J. (2016) NSW Heritage Council 'disappointed' in Sirius building's impending destruction. Sydney Morning Herald, 3 August. Available at http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/nsw-heritage-council-disappointed-in-sirius-buildings-impending-destruction-20160802-gqivs5.html  

Tovey, J. (2012) Residents stick to their point of community. Sydney Morning Herald, 26 October. Available at http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/residents-stick-to-their-point-of-community-20121025-288bh.html


Resourced: http://www.shelternsw.org.au/sites/shelternsw.org.au/files/public/documents/rept1609%20Contemporary%20forced%20removal.%20Millers%27%20Point.pdf 

Sirius and the failed utopianism of Brutalist architecture

Sirius and the failed utopianism of Brutalist architecture


SiriusApartmentsMonochrome




Brutalism is, at best, a contentious style of architecture. There is a sweeping, depressive quality to it. In the music video for Kanye West’s song ‘All of the Lights’, a very young girl makes her way alone through a maze of Brutalist public housing blocks. In the music video for Jarryd James’ ‘Do You Remember’, an alienated girl is placed against a backdrop of a London housing estate. In dystopian science fiction films, this kind of architecture is the setting for a decaying post-apocalyptic world: pigeons clinging to high, grey, metallic fences trimmed with barbed wire and Orwellian facades protruding out like bomb shelters.
Brutalism can, however, have very different connotations. In the Sydney Morning Herald last month, architect Elizabeth Farrelly mounted an impassioned defence of the style. ‘True Brutalism,’ she writes, ‘is at once elegant and sexy.’
For the residents of Sirius, a public housing apartment block in the inner-city Sydney suburb of Millers Point, more than just architectural theory is at stake. Since the state government announced plans to demolish the building and relocate its residents, it has become the subject of a huge community campaign. This week, the CFMEU declared a Green Ban on the site, ensuring that – for the time being, at least – no work involving unionised labour will occur.
Home to a large population of low-income and disadvantaged people, the Sirius building was built in the aftermath of the first Green Bans of the 1970s, when construction unions fought to protect working-class residences in the area from commercial redevelopment. Its Brutalist style is distinctive and original; a quality that campaigners have cited as a key reason to oppose its demolition.
To understand the relevance of this building’s architecture, it is worth exploring its origins. Despite appearances, Brutalism has nothing to do with the word ‘brutal’; rather, it is a term derived from the French phrase bĂ©ton brut – literally, concrete in the raw. We are seeing the building stripped back to its fundamental elements; its skin undressed, exposed. Hence, Farrelly’s designation: ‘sexy’.
Brutalism came into prominence at a time when architects had started to make a distinct break from tradition and cultural reference points. Traditional or locally derived materials were no longer considered necessary. With new mass-produced materials available, architects began to explore building higher, bigger, faster, cheaper. As a highly profitable industry, construction was among the first to bear the hallmarks of the global economy – new, imposing construction techniques and a mutable, international style of architecture.
Brutalism was a movement in which building techniques were cutting construction times, cutting costs and cutting-edge. With money to be made on a grand scale, architects’ egos soared. The future was to be guided by their creative vision and their self-reverence. Their constructions drew attention to their materials, deconstructed the excess of detail and celebrated the fundamentals of the building itself.
Some Brutalist shapes and forms can be beautiful, even complex and structurally surprising. However, all the general public sees now is dirty concrete; scuffed, tired aggregate; and certain shades of brown and green timber associated with authoritarian government facilities such as council offices, police stations, prisons, public schools, hospital wards and public housing.
The Sirius building was to be painted a shade of white, in order to match the Opera House, but the budget – for both the initial work and ongoing maintenance – never materialised. It remains an imposing grey.
I can’t see past the grey of such buildings. It is a cold form of architecture; a harsh palette of mass-produced manufactured materials, typified by unpainted, reinforced concrete and entire windowless blank-wall facades of brown pebble aggregate. I get the sense that Brutalism is in need of getting dressed; clothed in white, perhaps, or some other colour in the Taubmans paint box, in order to push back the grey we already see all over our cities. It is the palette – the veneer – that needs to be rendered differently.
To do so, however, is to be deemed no longer Brutalist. It is to lose all aesthetic integrity and authenticity; to throw away the true intentions of the architect. Yet, the truth of Brutalism is at the core of the raw, cold concrete: an expansive, utopian vision for the future – part socialist monumentalism, part paternalism.
The architectural style of Brutalism is, in many ways, inseparable from the emergence of public housing. Northcott Place, in the Sydney suburb of Surry Hills, was opened in 1963 as a place to house war veterans and newly arrived immigrants. Our national figurehead herself, Queen Elizabeth II, cut the ribbon. Decades later, it was a vertical slum referred to by occupants as ‘the old bitch’.
Public housing in different countries takes different forms and has differing social outcomes. In some instances, massive social experiments to house the low-income masses have formed part of a utopian vision of equitable housing for all.
In his 1993 album Illmatic, legendary New York hip-hop artist and lyrical poet NAS super-imposed a photograph of his face as a child over the public housing block in the Queensbridge Projects where he grew up. The album’s lyrics present an honest, provocative portrayal of a culture of poverty, disadvantage and unemployment; its scenes of family dysfunction, firearms and drug trafficking story emblematic of a failed system.
In London, the public housing towers of the Elephant and Castle lay vacant for nearly a decade after being earmarked for demolition. Homeless people – perhaps, in some cases, former tenants who had been left in the hands of the private housing market – could be seen camped out around the footings of the empty residential buildings.
In Sydney, public housing has its own problems. With the Department of Housing underfunded and unable to keep up with decades worth of increasing demand and maintenance costs, the strata of society that fills public housing faces significant disadvantage. It is an enclave of concentrated poverty, associated with drugs, crime and violence; ultimately, deemed the un-aspirational class.
Paternal planning succeeds and fails on a grand scale. When Sirius was built, the concept was to house those in need in affordable residences close to where they were being pushed out from. Today, the stigma attached to public housing in Sydney makes for an ugly picture.
Centralising poverty can cause unforeseen issues in this city, as much as it does in others. But services in city localities can provide access to means of alleviating issues facing disadvantaged communities. Removing the Sirius building will only disperse those who have lived there for decades, dependent on government assistance for survival, into fringe suburbs devoid of services – not because of market forces, but because of government policy. Those in need will, in effect, be hidden.
The Sirius building, as it still stands today, is on the skyline adjacent to the Harbour Bridge. It has been a visible reminder of paternalistic government, and of what one failed utopian vision looks like. As such, it has been deemed necessary to erase it.
The utopian vision now is to hide those old ideas – to hide entrenched poverty, and the failure of a system – within the broader 30/70 societal mix. This new vision is to hide the ugliness of Brutalism within the suburbs, sprawling far beyond Sydney’s CBD.

There is a Save Our Sirius rally this Saturday (17 September) from 11.30 am.
Related piece: ‘No place like home’: Anwen Crawford on the fight to save Millers Point
Image: ‘Sirius Apartments monochrome’; Marek/Flickr


RESOURCED: https://overland.org.au/2016/09/sirius-and-the-failed-utopianism-of-brutalist-architecture/?utm_campaign=shareaholic&utm_medium=facebook&utm_source=socialnetwork 

Tuesday, 23 August 2016

Save our Sirius: iconic building faces demolition - The Feed







Man About the Sirius Apartments

On Saturday, Tim Ross (Rosso) and Kit Warhurst performed Man About the Sirius Apartments to a full house. Almost 200 people squeezed into the Phillip Room, the ground-floor community room of the Sirius Apartments, to hear Tim explain, “We have presented this show inside iconic building across Australia, and now we are starting to do them across the world.” The difference this time was that it was the first time they had performed in an iconic building in danger of being demolished.

To see Sirius alive with music and people, go to http://millerspointcommunity.com.au/man-sirius-apartments/

Thank you to everyone who attended Man About the Sirius Apartments. It was fantastic to see so many supporters!


We have now launched the Crowdfunding campaign we announced on Saturday. The funds will be used to form a legal action against the Minister's decision to not place Sirius on the State Heritage Register.

Visit & Share Our campaign www.startsomegood.com/saveoursirius

As supporters of Sirius you have a valuable role, and we appreciate any help you can provide to our campaign. Click here, or see below for details on how you can be directly involved.

Thank you,

Shaun Carter
Chair, Save Our Sirius Foundation
NSW Chapter President, Australian Institute of Architects


"The official view in heritage terms is you really only need to meet one criterion. If you think it is significant to the State on aesthetic grounds, then it is significant to the State.”
— Stephen Davies, Chair NSW Heritage Council


Our Challenge

The Save Our Sirius Foundation believes the Minister for Heritage has not made the necessary and proper considerations on relevant matters in rejecting the Heritage Council's recommendation to list Sirius Apartments on the State Heritage Register. We will be asking the Environmental Defenders Office to launch a legal action to have the Minister's decision reviewed and annulled. Forcing the Minister and the Government to give due weight to the relevant facts in re-making their decision.
We must remember the Heritage Council voted unanimously to recommend Sirius for listing on the State Heritage Register on the grounds of:
Aesthetics (exemplar Brutalist Architecture), and
History with the Green Bans movement within The Rocks. Minister Mark Speakman rejects the Heritage Council's recommendation, whilst admitting the heritage, said he preferred the money instead. Saying "I am not [heritage] listing it because, whatever its heritage value, even at its highest, that value is greatly outweighed by what would be a huge loss of extra funds from the saleof the site."


How You Can Help

There are a number of ways you can show your support to save Sirius.
Choose a reward: By choosing a reward you are joining our team and pledging your support to save Sirius. Our campaign is now online at www.startsomegood.com/SaveOurSirius

Share our campaign: To be successful we need to share the campaign far and wide. Talking with friends and family about our project and sharing this page will help us spread the message about saving Sirius.
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Want to do more? If you would like to do more, please contact the Save Our Sirius Foundation via mail@carterwilliamson.com

RESOURCED: https://www.startsomegood.com/SaveOurSirius  

Sunday, 21 August 2016

Hundreds of supporters gather in fresh bid to save Sydney’s famous brutalist building Sirius

Hundreds of supporters gather in fresh bid to save Sydney’s famous brutalist building Sirius

A fresh bid to save Sydney’s most famous brutalist building from the wrecking ball saw hundreds of supporters turn up to the 1970s apartment complex on Saturday for a rare glimpse inside.
The government’s ruling to evict its public housing tenants and allow the iconic building to be knocked down is yet another blow to the community of Millers Point after a swathe of government houses were sold off despite much protest in the inner-city suburb this year.
But stand-up comedian Tim Ross, who performed in the foyer of the Sirius building to a sold-out crowd, hoped that with more awareness and enough public pressure, the government would reverse its decision not to list the public housing block on the state’s heritage register.
Comedian Tim Ross performed in the Sirius Building to a sold-out audience on Saturday.Comedian Tim Ross performed in the Sirius Building to a sold-out audience on Saturday. Photo: Supplied
The comedian and architecture enthusiast said that by performing inside Sirius he was hoping to spark a conversation about how beautiful and important the building was.
“People have been conditioned to think it’s ugly, but people’s opinions can change,” he said.
He warned that by knocking down significant buildings like Sirius, a cultural vacuum was being created in Sydney. “It’s a city in decline and the finger has to be pointed at these middle-class suburban men.”
The Sirius public housing building will not be heritage listedThe Sirius public housing building will not be heritage listed Photo: Wolter Peeters
Despite the Heritage Council unanimously recommending the building be heritage listed for its aesthetic and historic merit, NSW Environment and Heritage Minister Mark Speakman rejected the request in July.
“Everything about [the decision] is absurd. They personally don’t like it, so that’s the end of it,” Ross said.
“They love [artistic events like] Vivid but Vivid doesn’t happen without the cultural class.”
Stand-up comedian Tim Ross offered guests a rare glimpse inside Sirius.Stand-up comedian Tim Ross offered guests a rare glimpse inside Sirius. Photo: Ingrid Fuary-Wagner
Along with renewed public pressure, Shaun Carter, NSW Chapter President of the Australian Institute of Architects, said they were also crowdfunding for legal action to have the minister’s decision annulled.
Mr Carter believed the government had not considered all the information about Sirius before making his decision.
But Mr Speakman said he would not be persuaded to revoke his decision on the non-heritage status of Sirius.
The Philip Room inside the Sirius building was packed for a performance by Tim Ross.The Philip Room inside the Sirius building was packed for a performance by Tim Ross. Photo: Ingrid Fuary-Wagner
“Listing the Sirius building on the State Heritage Register would have come at a huge opportunity cost, possibly in the order of about $70 million which can be used to fund approximately 240 extra social housing properties,” Mr Speakman said.
He acknowledged that while a financial sacrifice was often appropriate to maintain heritage, in this case the cost greatly outweighed any heritage value of the building.
 “I made my decision after careful consideration and have no intention of changing it.”
The view of the Sydney Opera House from one of the apartments in the Sirius ComplexThe view of the Sydney Opera House from one of the apartments in the Sirius Complex Photo: Ingrid Fuary-Wagner
But Mr Carter still holds high hopes for the future of Sirius.
“I think the decision is political. He [the Minister] is smart but I think his hand is being forced.
“The rest of the world seems to have got the memo on brutalist architecture, and there’s not a whole lot of it.
“You could list it, renovate it, it’s a valuable site for anyone. It could even be turned into a boutique hotel.”

RESOURCED: http://www.domain.com.au/news/hundreds-of-supporters-show-up-in-fresh-bid-to-save-sydneys-famous-brutalist-building-sirius-20160820-gqxc5z/

Thursday, 18 August 2016

Dollars trump humanity in NSW public land purge - Eureka Street

 Dollars trump humanity in NSW public land purge

Catherine Marshall |  17 August 2016

The One Way Jesus sign, previously propped against the windowsill so that commuters coming in on the train each morning might see it and so receive some succour, is gone.
Sirius ComplexThe Brutalist building — so ugly on the eye when I first saw it all those years ago, now a familiar milestone on the journey into the city — has been condemned to an undignified death; soon it will be demolished, a luxury apartment building erected in its stead. The long-term residents have packed their meagre belongings and gone (though not without a fight).

Such is the pattern of progress in New South Wales, under a government that has no compunction in selling public land to the person whose wallet is the fattest.

At Barangaroo, James Packer's high-rollers-only casino soars heavenwards, altering forever Sydney's skyline and the shady economy that helps fuel it; the wedge of foreshore carved out of Barangaroo for public use has transformed the city, too, but it feels like a bribe from a government keen to keep its constituents quiet.

And there, across the railway tracks and overlooking the Opera House on the other side of the bridge, that staggered, Brutalist, Sirius building, with its lilac-painted rooftop pot plants and drooping lace curtains and public housing tenants, is wrenched back from those who need it most and delivered into the hands of profiteers.

The terrace houses in nearby Millers Point, where Mary MacKillop and her Josephite Sisters worked among the poorest, and which have housed some of the most disadvantaged since, are sold off to private buyers with enough money to both purchase the title deeds and eradicate the stench of poverty.

And no-one complains, for money has become our god, and we all know that it is harder for a poor man to enter an earthly kingdom than for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle.

Nor should a poor man be allowed to live in a place as heavenly as this; once the site of bubonic plague and the playground for ragged orphans, it is now a blue ribbon harbourside neighbourhood filled with residents who look to be a better fit: educated folk who walk with confidence, who have jobs to go to and a purpose to fulfil.

"A society that values its poorest citizens, that elevates them to the loftiest of positions and judges them on what they need rather than what they are worth, is one that sees humanity where it might otherwise see dollars."

The rich, we seem to be saying when we fail to oppose our government's sale of public land and public housing, are far more deserving of access to the foreshore, of that fresh air and proximity to the city, than are the poor. If you can pay for it yourself, it's yours; if you've acquired it through the public purse then part of it is mine, and why should you have that water view I could never afford myself?

But there's no democracy in parcelling off tracts of land for exclusive use by the rich. There's no diversity in cities engineered to exclude the most marginalised. There's little social cohesion in regions that have been sliced up into a series of sterile, discrete, distinctly homogenous neighbourhoods.

And — something to consider, perhaps, for those who oppose welfare and the people who rely on it — there's little incentive for the well-off to be grateful for what they have when they're quarantined from the poor. Our own sense of wellbeing is influenced and reinforced by our perception of the wellbeing of others. It often happens that when those around us have more than we do, we feel worthless; when we're frequently exposed to poverty, we feel grateful for what we have.

The poor are not exhibits, of course, and their presence in affluent areas shouldn't serve to make us feel better — or worse — about ourselves. But it should help us to feel better about the city in which we live, for a society that values its poorest citizens, that elevates them to the loftiest of positions and judges them on what they need rather than what they are worth, is one that sees humanity where it might otherwise see dollars. And we must never forget this: what such a society does to the least of its brethren, that it will do to us, too.
Catherine MarshallCatherine Marshall is a Sydney-based journalist and travel writer.







      RESOURCED: http://www.eurekastreet.com.au/article.aspx?aeid=49742#.V7WoGXnr3mQ  

Tuesday, 16 August 2016

Another slap in the face for Sydney public housing residents

Another slap in the face for Sydney public housing residents
Public housing residents at the Sirius complex in Millers Point, Sydney, are outraged that the government has rejected a unanimous recommendation from the NSW Heritage Council that the building be given a heritage listing.

To add insult to injury, the residents, who are being evicted so that the site can be handed over to rich developers, were told that the bid to have their homes saved had failed hours after media had already broken the story.

According to Barney Gardner, a lifelong resident of Millers Point and spokesperson for the Millers Point, Dawes Point and The Rocks Public Housing Tenants Group, said that a media release went out at 12am on 7 August, and the story appeared in the morning’s papers.

“At 9am on a Sunday morning, a relocation officer was knocking on the doors of the tenants. They said, ‘How you going? Just letting you know the building isn’t going to be heritage listed. Just a courtesy because we didn’t want you to hear about it in the media’”, Gardner told Red Flag.
“They’re saying it’s courteous to knock on someone’s door at 9am on a Sunday morning to tell them the building is going to be knocked down and you have to get out.”

Gardner said the situation is a slap in the face reminiscent of the threat made on their homes two years ago, when Red Flag first reported on the issue.

“This is like 2014 again, when it was announced on national TV and then we had letters slipped under our door”, he said.

Twelve residents remain in the Sirius building, occupying eight units in the 79-unit complex.
Residents are hoping for support from the CFMEU, whose predecessor organisation, the Builders Labourers’ Federation, vowed to protect the building until the end of its lease. The BLF placed green bans on the whole of The Rocks and Millers Point area, which meant that unionised construction workers would refuse to work on any site if it meant the demolition of working class housing.

“There was an old story that the building, if it was to be threatened before the lease was up – and the lease ran for 52 years, from 1978-2030 – that the green ban would be reissued”, Gardner said.

Resourced: https://redflag.org.au/node/5439

 

Sunday, 14 August 2016

In praise of the Sirius building, a ruined remnant of idealistic times.

sydney.edu.au

In praise of the Sirius building, a ruined remnant of idealistic times.

The Sirius building in Sydney.
The Sirius building in Sydney.


At night, its lights are out and it is merely a black, stepped shape against the slightly less black sky. There is a stairwell light, for security I suppose, and scattered around the 78 apartments, 12 or so residents still inhabit the place (although they will be rehoused soon).


In the daylight, the building has never looked better. Despite the lack of residents the rooftop gardens are flourishing as plants spill over their beds and down the cement walls. Sirius has finally become what Sydney Harbour always needed: an ornamental folly, an out-dated and Romantic ruin.


Driving southbound, I note that there is a large agave plant on the roof terrace, immediately at the level of the bridge deck, with a 2 metre long bloom spike hunched over under its own weight. The remaining gardens by design or through a cruel form of natural selection contain the most fashionable plants of the moment: hardy heath plants exotic, sculptural and water saving. An agave flowers spectacularly but only once and the plant dies. It is the perfect floral symbol for the situation.


It is on the run to ruin that finally Sirius is telling its story most loudly. The empty shell of a building points to the failure of its 70s dream that even public and low cost housing should have a city water view. It embodied the idea that social housing should be mixed: from the elderly to the young; from families to singles; from essential services (teachers, cleaners etc.) to those on the pension.


The Sirius, by the architect Tao Gofers, is a product of its time. Built in 1979 to provide public housing for people relocated from the Rocks during the time of the green bans it lasted merely 37 years. Its failure communicates as much about society as its success. As Tim Edensor wrote in his book Industrial Ruins: Spaces, Aesthetics and Materiality,
Ruined space is ripe with transgressive and transcendent possibilitiesThey offer opportunities for challenging and deconstructing the imprint of power on the city.


At its time, the building was seen as a marvel. In the post war period there was a public housing boom, with an attempt to house people in more hygienic, more modern and more comfortable homes. The documentary Utopia London is a very good starting point to explore the humanist values that drove the architects of public housing at this time.


The Sirius, although relatively late in this process, shared many of those hopes for architectures ability to change lives. Many of the original residents of the Sirius would not have had, even beside the harbour views, any of its comforts before from modern plumbing to new kitchens. The public areas featured bespoke carpets, artwork, leisure areas and libraries. Roof top terraces and courtyard gardens provided for outdoor space. The Sirius also has tenant parking. These amenities fostered a sense of community that the residents remember fondly.


The Sirius references buildings such as Habitat 67 by the Canadian Moshe Safdie. Both share a modular unit made (carefully in the factory) from prefabricated concrete. The repetition has a clear graphic quality when seen from afar, and the curved frames around the windows create strong contrasting shadows and a futuristic, 2001 Space Odyssey feel. At street level, the three storey sections fit sensitively within an area of similarly scaled and proportioned terraces.


Each module, one presumes, equals some sort of family unit, from singles to four bedroom doubles, and like a beehive, everyone is equal; the big move of the building is to represent a metaphor of togetherness and democratic value.

Brutalism was known as the human face of late modernism, replacing the universalising steel/glass box with a more site specific and materially rich experience. Overall the whole grain of the building becomes more detailed and humane. At the Sirius, complex bricks are used in garden areas, bespoke steel is used for fine handrails, and the architect himself designed elegant wooden sculptures for the common areas. The concrete has the impressed cast of natural wood grain, not a machined smoothness. To understand the building you have to come close to it to experience these textures and materials. Obviously the major softening device is the garden bed that breaks up the hard edges of the module successfully and turns the raked building into a form of urban cliff face with hardy windswept trees.


There is a real generosity of spirit in this building, it is respectful of the residentsoriginal suggestions and it is built to the highest quality. Many in the architectural fraternity mark this period as the last when the architect, rather than the developer, led the project.


It exemplifies a 70s-era hope for a free and equal society. Indeed it is now demonstrable that the period was the most equitable in human history. Thomas Pikettys book Capital in the Twenty-First Century suggests that since then, the gap between the haves and have-nots has widened. The story of the Sirius Building is a manifestation of this fall.


Rem Koolhaas, one of the worlds leading architects, recently opined.
In the last 30 years, architecture has been deeply influenced by the conversion of things: Thatcher and Reagan, moving from a welfare state to a market economy. Architects used to be connected to good intentions, notionally at least. With the market economy, weve slowly found ourselves supporting, at best, individual ambitions and, at worst, pure profit motives. In that sense, every crisis perhaps presents an opportunity.


In the last 30 years, architecture has been deeply influenced by the conversion of things: Thatcher and Reagan, moving from a welfare state to a market economy. Architects used to be connected to good intentions, notionally at least. With the market economy, weve slowly found ourselves supporting, at best, individual ambitions and, at worst, pure profit motives. In that sense, every crisis perhaps presents an opportunity.


I applaud Koolhaass optimism. In the meantime The Sirius Building as ruin signifies a radical shift away from modernist utopian faith in social justice and the beautiful life for everyone.


If I were in a kingly position I would knock the building down as soon as possible to silence its ethical evocation once and for all.
Republished courtesy of The Conversation. Written by Dr Oliver Watts, Sydney curator, artist, writer and lecturer at Sydney College of the Arts.

Saturday, 13 August 2016

August 13 2016  Damien Murphy

Sydney is beginning to "sleep walk to social immobility" and unless people, government and the private sector urgently embrace radical change to housing policies affordable housing will disappear.
This is the scenario painted by the Committee for Sydney's chief executive Tim Williams as figures suggest it takes 13 times the average annual salary to purchase a home.

Committee For Sydney CEO Tim Williams says despite housing affordability reaching crisis, governments and developers ...

Committee For Sydney CEO Tim Williams says despite housing affordability reaching crisis, governments and developers were ignorant about the damage being done to communities. 
He said affordability had reached crisis yet governments and developers seemed blithely ignorant about the damage being done to communities where diversity had been priced out.

"Australian cities are beginning to sleep walk to social immobility," Dr Williams said.

The Sirius public housing building will not be heritage listed
The Sirius public housing building will not be heritage listed Photo: Wolter Peeters
"We need to refresh the Australian fair go commitment to a Sydney for all. We need to embrace the diversity that we used to embrace;  we're living in a quite tribal city. We need to bridge that divide and we need new policies: The way the government disposes of its own land must change.

"The committee thinks there is a very big discussion to be had on this matter because in a sense we're not enabling out own children to grow up in the areas we grew up in."

Dr Williams said the continuing controversy over the Baird government's decision to evict public housing tenants from the Sirius building in the Rocks, was an example of the need to recalibrate policy on affordable housing.

"The government is not yet committed to affordable housing even on its own land so we are challenging government that when it sells public land, it doesn't just sell it at top dollar, but actually sells it with a commitment to a proportion of affordable housing of sub-market rental housing on its own land," he said.

"We would look to the government to have a requirement for a minimum number of affordable units (in whatever replaces the Sirius building) set aside."

Dr Williams said the government should legislate to require the private sector to set aside 10 or 15 per cent - of a development for affordable housing.

"The private sector will buy land subject to the knowledge that they are going to have to do some affordable housing on it," he said.

"They have to know what is coming and it musn't change from council to council, from year to year, so they can factor this into their land purchase."
All our innovations, be it with rents, jobs, or education, have all been aimed at keeping the community in the community.
Sir Robin Wales, mayor of Newham, East London
Over the years much research recommended the imposition of a component of affordable housing on land or properties bought by developers but governments bolted under the sort of barrage that greeted negative gearing in the last federal election campaign.

The Committee for Sydney sponsored a visit by Sir Robin Wales, the mayor of Newham in East London, who has been extraordinarily successful in linking jobs with housing affordability and taking his municipality from being the second most deprived local government authority six years ago to the 25th.

Under the Labor knight's leadership, Newham established a wholly owned company that builds and acquires properties to rent and used the profits to provide affordable housing; it also licensed private rented properties to give tenants more protection  - a move that has resulted in nearly 800 landlords being prosecuted with some exposed as tax evaders - and provided free meals to primary school children and a musical instrument for every student.

"Every middle-class kid has a musical instrument, so its right and proper that we should provide working-class kids with the same privilege," Sir Robin said.
"All our innovations, be it with rents, jobs, or education, have all been aimed at keeping the community in the community. Much of greater London has been hollowed out as properties and jobs grew apart, but we've managed to arrest that in Newham and it might be a light for Sydney to follow. For it, like every other big city, is seeing diversity squashed as the poor and jobless are driven further and further away."

SOURCED: http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/government-developers-should-stop-chasing-big-dollars-and-provide-affordable-housing-20160812-gqr0mg.html 

The Sirius building

Aug 13, 2016

The Sirius building


The proposed demolition of the Sirius building in Sydney robs Australians of an iconic piece of Brutalist architecture.


The Sirius building, at The Rocks, Sydney.                             Allshots Imaging / Creative Commons

I certainly wasn’t the first slightly flabby Melburnian to be seduced by the Emerald City, but I might well be the first who could attribute his love affair to a Brutalist block of flats.

In the spring of 1997, I was on tour in Sydney and spent an afternoon wandering around the city that Robin Boyd had so simply and brilliantly described as being “so Australian”. 

On that day, the old Sydney mind tricks were in full swing. The sun was out and the harbour was doing its sparkly, suggestive thing and the sails on the most extraordinary building in the world were showing off as usual. I couldn’t help but swoon and sigh as I tightened the jumper I’d taken off and tied around my waist. It was the first time I felt the overpowering pull of a city that had such penetrating beauty it could instantly turn your walk into a skip.

I was basking in the clichés when I spotted a building on the other side of the bridge Hoges used to paint.

There it was: a stunning series of concrete-form boxes appearing to be stacked on top of each other like blocks, a futuristic mass of glorious 1970s Brutalism. These apartments, with their roof gardens and their intriguing purple stacks, immediately took me. As I stood there staring, a bloke walked by and mumbled, “Can you believe it’s full of housos?”

The building was Sirius, the last and arguably most successful example of Australia’s experiment with high-rise public housing. It was designed by government architect Tao Gofers in 1978-79 and was opened in 1980. 

The 79-apartment complex was a product of a tumultuous period in The Rocks during the ’60s and ’70s, when the unions enforced green bans and halted the widespread destruction of historic sections of the area.

Today it sits like a time capsule, virtually unchanged since 1980. It is a wonderful building to be in and be around. Like all great Brutalist architecture, it’s so functional it hurts; but when you are in contact with it, it’s softer, warmer, more attractive than you would imagine. 

It’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but enthusiasts of this style of architecture often draw their affection from its popularity in the new schools and universities built in the ’60s and ’70s. These buildings represented a changing of the guard in our built environment as we threw off the shackles of a colonial past and endeavoured to create a new nation in a brave new style.

Sirius certainly isn’t the New South Wales government’s cup of tea. Not only has the government elected to discontinue its contribution to public housing, but it has condemned this Sydney icon to the wrecking ball.

Not content at moving people from their homes to clean up this part of town for our new casino, the Baird government has rejected the building’s heritage listing despite a strong recommendation by both the state Heritage Council and the Australian Institute of Architects to do otherwise.

The minister for the environment and heritage, Mark Speakman, defended his decision based on the value of the property. “I am not listing it because, whatever its heritage value, even at its highest that value is greatly outweighed by what would be a huge loss of extra funds from the sale of the site,” he said.

This greedy grab for cash at the cost of an important part of Sydney’s history became even more farcical when the finance minister, Dominic Perrottet, chimed in: “Our city deserves better, and we now have a chance to deliver a building that genuinely complements our dazzling harbour rather than sticking out like a sore thumb.”

The absurdity of the heritage minister talking about money and the finance minister taking a stance on aesthetics makes it seem like these two bananas are playing a rather lame game of good vandal/bad vandal.

These two are no better than your average local council officials making decisions about design without adequate qualifications and, more frighteningly, taste.

It’s too easy to imply these guys are in bed with developers or big business. Besides, that would be giving these numbnuts way too much credit.

They’re too busy being the guys at a suburban barbecue who stand around in oversized check shirts and pleated chinos, boring everyone senseless about property prices.

Both made a judgement based on greed, one which ignored the opinion of experts. This isn’t a new phenomenon in NSW, where for a long time there was a great deal of contempt for the Opera House. Architecture isn’t pizza – not everyone is supposed to love it – but the government should understand that Sirius embodies a layer in the time span of a city, one that can be appreciated in different ways for many years to come.

In London, Brutalist landmarks such as the Barbican are widely acknowledged for the merit of design, and apartments there are highly sought after. There is no reason why the same thing cannot happen here.

If the government is hell-bent on getting its gold for the former homes of some of our most needy, at least it could give the building a chance to live on in another guise as a tower of sympathetically updated apartments, or as one of the great designer hotels of the world.

It wouldn’t take much more than a proper sandblasted clean for people to start seeing it as the impressive piece of architecture that it is.

RESOURCED : https://www.thesaturdaypaper.com.au/2016/08/13/the-sirius-building/14710104003587

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Friday, 12 August 2016

Harbour Control Tower overlooking Sydney Harbour Bridge soon to be gone

Harbour Control Tower overlooking Sydney Harbour Bridge soon to be gone





SYDNEY, Australia - Demolition of the Sydney landmark, the Harbour Control Tower, overlooking Sydney Harbour from Barangaroo is about to get underway.

The area surrounding the decades-old tower, also known as the Sydney Port Operations and Communications Centre, has now been cordoned off for 5 months while a major mast-climbing platform has been erected around the tower.
There will be no controlled-demolition by explosives, or wrecking balls, instead the tower will be slowly dismantled by two remote-controlled robots, each weighing about 1.6 tonnes. The robotic excavators will push pulverised material into the shaft of the structure, with one truck a day used to cart the rubble away.
According to a report earlier this year in The Sydney Morning Herald, it will be the first time the method will be used in Australia.
"We chose this option because it is very low impact we are in a urban environment, we are in a park surrounded by park lands. It's very low impact, it is very good with noise, low dust, low vibration, so it is very good for this setting," Clinton Dick, of the contracted deconstruction company Liberty Industrial told the Herald at the time.
The decision to remove the tower has been a controversial one with residents and many in Sydney and New South Wales opposing it. One of the most critical opponents has been the National Trust.
The Trust was highly critical of the Barangaroo Delivery Authority’s handling of the demolition decision-making process which is said emphasised, "the total inadequacy of the Authority’s response and handling of this issue which strikes at the heart of heritage protection in NSW."
Last year the Trust said that if one of the last state significant historic remnants of Sydney’s port operations could not be saved then the Barangaroo Delivery Authority was "highlighting the current failure of the NSW planning system to protect our most important heritage when State Significant Development is allowed to totally override heritage protection for places considered to be of State Heritage Significance."
The Harbour Control Tower was listed on the Register of the National Trust in May, 2010 as an Item of Environmental Heritage on the Heritage Register of Sydney Ports before the ownership was transferred to the Barangaroo Delivery Authority. The authority does not maintain a Heritage Register, a requirement of NSW Heritage legislation and the BDA failed to acknowledge the heritage significance and listing of the tower.
On 2 June, 2014 the National Trust nominated the tower for listing on the State Heritage Register and at its meeting of 2 July, 2014 the Heritage Council of NSW gave notice of its intention to consider listing of the Tower on the State Heritage Register in acknowledgement of its significance to the people of NSW. The Heritage Council then recommended its listing on the State Heritage Register but on 25 July, 2015 the Minister for Heritage Mark Speakman announced that he had decided that the tower should not be listed on the State Heritage Register. “I consider that the (Harbour Control) Tower is not of State heritage significance for importance in demonstrating aesthetic characteristics,” he said.
Although other uses for the tower had been put forward, Mr Speakman said: “I consider that while there are conflicting views as to whether the tower is of State heritage significance for other reasons, in any event a listing would render the tower incapable of reasonable or economic use, and, in particular, there would be no financially sustainable adaptive reuse of the tower.”
On 1 May 2014 the National Trust says it received notice from the Department of Planning & Infrastructure of an application by the Barangaroo Delivery Authority to demolish the Harbour Control Tower. On 19 June, 2014 the National Trust put in a submission on the demolition proposal finding the proposal’s Statement of Heritage Impact to be inadequate and its conclusions unsupportable.
The Barangaroo Delivery Authority notified the National Trust on 29 July, 2014 that it intended to proceed with the demolition despite objections and the Heritage Council’s intention to list the tower on the State Heritage Register.
The Harbour Control Tower was built to oversee shipping movements in and out of Port Jackson. It provided lines of sight to all major wharfage areas in Sydney Harbour. It became operational in 1974, after the conversion of the finger wharves at Darling Harbour into longshore roll-on/roll-off container terminals.
It consists of a reinforced concrete column with an internal lift, topped by stainless steel and glass observation and operations areas.
The reinforced concrete base of the tower is 7.6m in diameter by 2.9m deep with connected plant and pump rooms and emergency equipment storage. Foundations are embedded into rock and rock anchors penetrate 7.9m to provide adequate anchorage. A circular reinforced concrete shaft 4.9m in diameter rises from the base; housing lift, stairs and ducting for services.
The three upper floors are 10m in diameter and cantilever from the shaft, while the roof framework is 15.2m in diameter. Wind loading was a critical factor in designing the tower.
The Harbour Control Tower rises 87m above sea level. Wind loading was a critical factor in designing the tower. Potential problems of structural strength in high winds were overcome by switching from pre-stressed to reinforced concrete and increasing the weight of the building at the top.
The tower has been redundant since 2011, when vessel control services were transferred to Port Botany. As technology advanced and commercial shipping in Sydney Harbour dwindled, it was no longer necessary to have sightlines on the harbour 24 hours a day. The Port Authority of NSW's $10.5 million Vessel Traffic Services system, which includes six radars and nine CCTV cameras, monitors Sydney Harbour and Port Botany.
So why is it being demolished, particularly in light of the significance given it by the National Trust?
The government says it doesn't fit in with its overall vision for Barangaroo Reserve, which was to restore a naturalistic look for the headland for everyone to enjoy. Plus the essential character of Millers Point is of low-rise buildings , it says.
Like the Harbour Control Tower itself, the extensive container wharves it overlooks and monitored were not heritage listed.
Bungee jumping over Barangaroo, a viewing tower offering sweeping panoramas over Sydney Harbour, a “pop-out” platform and cafĂ©, and a base for abseiling were among the alternative uses that were floated for the Harbour Control Tower. However, for various reasons, the government decided the building was not appropriate for such activities. The Barangaroo Delivery Authority investigated alternative usage but concluded that the significant access, structural and liability issues identified precluded any retention and reuse options. Plus, the authority said, experienced commercial leisure operators approached to gauge interest in a leisure/adventure use of the tower advised that they had no interest in pursuing the opportunity, given the physical limitations of the existing tower and the prohibitive costs of modification.
The Barangaroo Delivery Authority engaged Turner & Townsend Thinc as external project managers and Liberty Industrial, an Australian company providing industrial deconstruction contracting and consulting services with a track record in dismantling, deconstruction and land remediation.
In 2015, Liberty Industrial received a World Deconstruction Award for the controlled explosive deconstruction of the tallest structure in the Southern Hemisphere, the 432m high Omega Transmission Tower in Darriman, Victoria. In 2014, the company received two awards for the Hismelt Closure project in Western Australia, one being that year’s Industrial Deconstruction Award and the other the overall 2014 World Deconstruction Award, which recognised the best of the best across all 2014 award categories.
The NSW government says Liberty Industrial has wide-ranging experience in complex demolition projects, from gas plant and asbestos removal for clients such as BHP Billiton to the demolition of the Hammerhead Crane at the Garden Island Naval Base, NSW, for the Department of Defence.
While the Harbour Control Tower is being demolished, another Sydney landmark built at the same time, the Sydney Opera House, is to have a $247-million makeover, the NSW State Government announced on Thursday.


RESOURCED: http://www.bignewsnetwork.com/news/246623625/harbour-control-tower-overlooking-sydney-harbour-bridge-soon-to-be-gone

 

Wednesday, 10 August 2016

Why Sirius Matters

Why Sirius Matters
 
 
Sydney is about to lose one of its most polarising landmarks. What does this mean for the future of our city?
Last week the NSW state government announced plans to demolish the iconic Sirius public-housing building in The Rocks, and replace it with luxury apartments.
Most people in Sydney can instantly picture the Sirius building, even if they don’t know it by name. It’s that wonky set of giant concrete steps you pass as you drive over the Harbour Bridge. For years its most famous feature was a sign in one of the windows reading, “ONE WAY! JESUS”.
Sirius has always attracted attention and controversy. Public opinion has been divided between those who dismiss it as an eyesore (some senior members of the state government who plan to knock it down among them) and those who regard its blocky exterior and strong resemblance to a pile of cement-covered Lego pieces with affection.
Former Archibald Prize winner Del Kathryn Barton called the decision a “cultural tragedy”. Sydney Lord Mayor Clover Moore has for the past several years used her limited power in local government to try to at least help the building’s residents. She has said Sirius was “exactly the kind of building our heritage protections are for”.
But the people who lived in Sirius’s weird, shoebox-like units are just as worthy of attention as the building that houses them – reminders of a Sydney most of us couldn’t imagine.
A couple of years ago, a long-time Sirius resident named Jack taught me a trick from when The Rocks was a raucous, working-class suburb full of sailors, dockworkers and roving street gangs – how to turn a newspaper into a semi-deadly weapon. Open it up to the centrefold, roll it lengthwise, bend the rolled-up tube in half and voilĂ : a makeshift club that can do serious damage. Jack also shared some dubious advice on the throat-slitting abilities of your standard two-dollar hair comb.
If many Sydneysiders don’t get why a big lump of grey concrete blocks is worth preserving, let alone in such a prized part of the city, it’s worth looking at how old buggers like Jack wound up living in Sirius in the first place.
The beating heart of the building has always been its public-housing tenants, mostly pensioners who grew up in the area. These erstwhile Rocks residents were at the centre of the famous Green Bans movement, a years-long battle in the 1970s between property developers who wanted to build skyscrapers along Circular Quay’s western edge and the local community who opposed them. The historic buildings in The Rocks that were slated for demolition, including precious relics of Sydney's convict beginnings and Cadmans Cottage, Sydney's oldest-surviving building, were preserved instead, and are still there today. Had the Green Bans movement never existed, The Rocks would likely resemble other forgettable, overdeveloped parts of the city such as the CBD or Darling Harbour. The largely working-class locals were moved into Sirius, which has 79 public-housing units, in 1979.
Sirius is a complex designed specifically to enrich the lives of the people who live in it. Unlike many public-housing projects, the design includes courtyard gardens, artworks and common areas to foster a sense of community. Its crooked rows of apartments are deliberately staggered in height and alignment to reduce traffic noise from the bridge, and its layout was designed to cater to the needs of families and elderly residents.
In 2014, as the state government prepared to demolish Sirius, those residents – some of whom had lived in the building since it first opened – were given notice that they were soon to be evicted. The locals resisted the government’s efforts to repossess their homes, forming the Save Our Sirius Foundation and teaming up with another group of public-housing residents in nearby Millers Point. For a while the letters “SOS” were emblazoned on one of the windows alongside the iconic Jesus message.
But according to Save Our Sirius Foundation chair Shaun Carter, nearly all of Sirius’s residents were relocated to public-housing estates across the city last year. Designed to house up to 200 people, the building is now almost empty.
“The government’s tried to offer them accommodation within a reasonable distance, but it’s difficult to find housing that meets their specific needs. There are still six units occupied – those residents have refused to be moved on,” Carter says.
Carter first got involved with the Save Our Sirius Foundation in his professional capacity as the president of the NSW chapter of the Australian Institute of Architecture. But for him, the fight to save Sirius has a personal side, too.
“As a young child going over the Harbour Bridge, I used to look at that building every day, and it’s probably the sole reason I became an architect. It let me imagine that I could build things that made people’s lives better,” Carter says.
It was built during Sydney’s love affair with Brutalist architecture, a style that emphasises utility, accessibility and ethical design over aesthetics. Besides the UTS Tower in Ultimo, Sirius is arguably the most recognisable example of Brutalism in Sydney.
It’s this architectural rarity that led the Heritage Council of NSW, an advisory body to the state Department of the Environment, to unanimously recommend in February that Sirius be heritage listed. Last week, Heritage Council chair Stephen Davies told the Sydney Morning Herald the decision to demolish Sirius is “disappointing”, because the building’s “aesthetic significance” warranted preservation.
That partly explains why it’s not only Australians who are sad Sirius is headed for the chop. SOSBrutalism, a campaign run by Germany’s Deutsches Architekturmuseum (DAM), which is devoted to preserving Brutalist architecture, said in a statement that it is, “very sorry to hear that the fight to save Sirius seems to have come to an end”.
Sirius will probably be replaced by up to 250 luxury apartments – a similar scenario to what’s happened in Millers Point. There, hundreds of public-housing terraces have been sold off by the state government over the past few years. Now the median house price sits at a whopping $2,470,550. Coincidentally, the suburb was named “Sydney’s newest haven of liveability” by Domain earlier this week.
Sirius and the Millers Point terraces were some of the last affordable-housing options in innermost Sydney, and while the remaining residents are determined to fight on, the likelihood of their being allowed to stay in their homes is low. In an age of rapid gentrification, increasingly unaffordable housing and rising inequality, the right of low-income people to live in their own city is more precarious than ever. When people travelling over the bridge are greeted by some bland, glass-and-steel luxury apartment complex in a few years time, those who dislike the building might wish for those ugly, old Lego blocks back.

RESOURCED: https://www.broadsheet.com.au/sydney/city-file/article/sirius-building