Professor Paul Gough talks temporary memorials, statues and fear of being forgotten

prof_paulOne look at the professor, entering an intimate class of 12 (and sometimes less) and you know that he’s got a bag-full of knowledge to share. And sharing he so articulately does.

Professor Paul Gough is the Pro Vice-Chancellor and Vice President of RMIT’s School of Design and Social Context. He’s a big boss with the intimate knowledge of all things space and place…and what a privilege it was to hear from him.

Firstly, Paul asks us this question:

“How does something become a memorial?” and connected to it, “Why do we even produce memorials?” Societies tend to remember those that are gone. And looking at the U.K. and even Europe in general, the continent is a patchwork quilt of places that celebrate remembrance of history, the absent dead that once traversed its fertile soil.

We’ve all been tourists once. And I’m glad Rachel, our tutor, asked us of particular monuments and statues we’ve come across in our journey of exploration and admiration of the memorial art. Japan, Croatia, Vietnam, Berlin, Philippines, Paris, Rome, to name a few in our class of 12 (and sometimes less). But how rich is our collective experiences, already! Paul states these five reasons as to why statues and monuments are integral to society since the Ancients till now:

  1. Focal point of grief
  2. Index of memory
  3. Names of remembrance
  4. Planned icon within furniture of the city
  5. Ritual – annual celebration, reverential

And then there’s the 3 stages in the Lifecycle of a Monument: the public memory (what people focus on, celebrate, commemorate and grieve), the institutionalised (i.e. 9/11) and ownership.

I’ve been challenged to think of memorials, monuments and statues in this certain way that Paul has elaborated on. I’ve almost always seen them simply as a physical definition of memory. A remembrance of something, and so I give my reverence and honour due. Never have I asked the question of why exactly is it remembered. The ANZAC memorial service, the one minute silence that permeated in the bowling alley I found myself that Saturday morning. Why do we remember our dead? Why is it “lest we forget?” Similar to the Hiroshima bombings, why do we preserve it? Is it for tourism, heritage? For people to come upon it and caress the bloodshed with our reverential eyes?

Paul had an answer to it all.

It’s because there is that fear of being forgotten.

And to our human condition, it is absolutely, unconditionally traumatic.

Brief 2 – RMIT Safezone App

To “augment a place” is to add on to something that has already been there before. To make something greater. My task for this brief was focused on RMIT’s Safezone App, a free application for RMIT students and staff that directly connects an individual to the Security team “when [they] need help on campus.”
My research surrounds the use of this particular GIS (geographic information system/s) to provide “links between crime and place” for more effective “discipline and survey” that, in turn, amplifies the overall theme of the research: the “fusion of mapping software with social media software” which provides not only information about a certain place, but also the linking of data between people, places and things.

Here are some notes I had prior to the reporting: 

  • What am I researching?
    • RMIT SafeZone App and how it adds to the place of RMIT.
    • free app for all RMIT students and staff, that connects you directly to the Security team when you need help on campus.
    • makes it easier for you to contact Security and helps them to respond if you need assistance, by sending your name and location directly to the response team members.
    • SafeZone app (available on Apple, Android and Windows devices) and registering as a user, you will also receive any critical notifications from the University
    • RMIT’s Security team monitors SafeZone 24 hours a day


The brief required me to interview a professional.
I managed to contact Louise Phelan
the coordinator of crime prevention and investigation from RMIT’s security team. Below are some of the questions I asked her:

  • Interview Questions:
    • To “augment a place” is to add on to something that has already been there before. To make something greater. As a security team/security app, it is your job to somehow make the place look and feel “smaller” to provide faster and more efficient aid to those who need it. How has the Safezone app helped in making the place feel “smaller” and thus, provide greater and faster aid? Were there any specific features of the app that is of great value in making this happen?
    • What were the reasons behind the development of the Safezone App?
    • What particular processes went into making the Safezone App? What particular technical knowledge was needed for this app as a location-based service?
    • How does the Safezone App help the security team with connecting to different staffs and students? Have there been particular issues that were avoided because of this app?
    • Have you received any feedback concerning the app and its usage? How has it helped the staff and students to a degree as they manoeuvred around a vast a campus as RMIT, specifically the city campus?

What I found fascinating in this research is how location-based services in the form of “Apps” have helped in defining the notion of place and space through the use of powerful wireless systems that sends out information on geographical positioning. Prior to this research, I had only thought of location-based services as somewhat of a nuance in my access of social media, especially since I am not a fan of sending out my location information to the general public.

In saying that though, this year, I’ve been required to navigate my way through the busy CBD streets for assessments and volunteer works of which I desperately needed to use these location-bases services, particularly GPS and mapping systems. Though I have not used the RMIT Safezone app (thank goodness), it is an assurance in itself that there is this application available for students and teachers in the community of RMIT incase there is a need for it.

I have concluded not to be so biased against GPS services just because I would not like to be tracked and be held against my own will because there is proof!

But thanks, RMIT!

p.s. I am where I say I am and not where I say I am not.

Found-footage Manipulation – dilemmas, dilemmas

Over the weekend, I’ve inundated myself with various Experimental Films, the found-footage kind. A Movie by Bruce Conner, aptly named, is a juxtaposed, almost-antithetical use of found footage to demonstrate the destructive nature of man by drawing on two different time periods: the modern-day present and the western-world past.

The film is a conglomeration of all things abstract and at times, ironically comedic, but what I mainly took note of was the sequence of scenes edited together. I previously mentioned in my Caretaker Project that I plan on creating a film that relies less on narrative sequence than spatial representation. What I want to present in my film is the nuances of the place, how the place itself gives the Caretaker his identity as the custodian of the great institution.

As such, I’ve come down to a bit of a conundrum: I do not know exactly how I go about in structuring my scene-by-scenes. I have collected some footage (still more to go) that I believe, represents my purpose and thematic element, but now, I am not quite sure how I could go about in storyboarding this without the narrative thread behind it to reign it in together.

Some questions to ponder:

  • Would a narrative thread help in alleviating the problem of storyboarding? And if so, how could I make it as implied as possible and as ambiguous as possible?
  • Would narration work instead of a narrative thread? And what would it do to the overall thematic of my film?

Hmm, lots to think about before the main shoot this coming weekend!

Experimental Film: Pitch Suggestions

Some post-pitch notes/suggestions thanks to the awesome panel we had last week!

  • Audio (samples): footsteps, keys jangling, creaky footsteps, light shining thorough the door, evoking presence
    Movie to see for inspiration: Gallipoli by Tolga Ornek. A documentary wherein it never shows any battle at all; just the sounds i.e. flatter of dust and some slight movement of the camera
  • Music: 
    • how literal do I want to portray the caretaker will inspire my music choice
    • getting into their character a bit more into what you want
    • subjectivity contrasted with sounds
    • what’s their little space like
    • making some of their work more interesting (images: eg. cleaning tools, where he resides in the courthouse)
  • The Caretaker (as a character) – keeping him invisible, but at the same time, making his presence known throughout the six Acts
    • Another term for caretaker: Custodian – something to think about as an alternative way of calling him/her
    • I’m probably decided on doing a “him” for this one but shall look into it more in my research
    • What does he do as a go-to type of person – research property services or current cleaning services managers of the Old Magistrates Court and of RMIT
  • Finding some employee records: town clerks correspondents at Public Records Office
  • Images/Shot:
    • Payslip – how much they get paid per day is evocative and tells more about how they work and how their home lives are like
      • Are they supporting a family? Where do they live? In a cottage, a small house, etc. What are their motivations?

Going through all my notes and the suggestions above over the weekend, I came up with things to do for this week:

  1. Acts – 6 Acts may be too ambitious so I’m going to have to reduce it. I’m thinking of dividing it up into three Acts instead of six:
    Act I: I am
    – the introduction of the Caretaker as the main character
    Act II:  Gavel
    – life in the court
    Act III: Ghosts
    – hauntings of the presence; what does the place mean, what does it make him feel?
  2. Research – Employee Records
    Abigail Belfrage, a historian who works at the Public Records Office suggested to look into some employee records to see those who have worked at the Old Magistrates’ Court as a historian at its time. She’ll be coming down this Friday so I’ll talk to her about that.
  3. Style – Music
    The general atmospheric theme I want to portray in this piece is sobering, haunting, nostalgic and reverential. I’ll be looking for music that really encapsulates that spirit.

I think that’s all for now. Off we go then, for some found-footage scavenging!

Experimental Film – The Caretaker

Pitch – THE CARETAKER

What happens when all that is left is the quietness? No pounding of gavels or black robes and unwashed wigs harassing the hallways? Of murderers on trial, of justice-seekers and curious peepers? No one really knows, but the old man who cleans, cleans, cleans.

IDEA
Title:
The Caretaker
Format: Experimental Short Film – documentary, found-footage film, use of archived videos, recorded shots of Building 20 itself, use of sounds
Length: 5-6mins (approximately)

SYNOPSIS
This short film follows six acts or segments of the life of the caretaker, a poetic reverie of the court as a place and of him as an occupant of the place.

CHOSEN IDEA – Why?
I chose this idea for two reasons:
1. Character – the Caretaker
Why I chose this idea is galvanised by the photograph I took of the the signage just outside of the establishment: CARETAKER PRESS TO RING.
It immediately gave me the perception that someone else, apart from your usual magistrates and judges, jury, clerks and court-persons, was also present in the area albeit mostly overlooked and unknown. The caretaker is an unknown character, but he is vital for the running of this great bastion of law. I felt that his life, who he is and what he does needs to be known and explored more.

2. The Court – as a place
First time visiting the Court, I marvelled at its architectural grandeur, and on my second visit, the holy reverence the place has towards what it was before: A Magistrates’ Court. I’ve been to the Melbourne Magistrates’ Court in Williams Street, having done some work experience there beforehand and though it is a lot more architecturally-progressive and forward-looking, I could imagine the same hustle and bustle of activity happening in the Old Magistrates’ Court as well. This time, however, these sounds are now reduced to honourable silences, simple echoes of the past, punctuated mostly by natural, diegetic sounds.

The caretaker as a physical character of the court, and my own impression of what it feels like to be in that building is what made me chose to do this idea. Visually, I believe that finding appropriate stimuli to what I am trying to convey both using found-footage and own recordings, scavenged and edited, alongside the sounds of the place, will be both a challenge for me as a future filmmaker but also an opportunity to explore the nuances of what this great building used to stand for.

CONCEPT
The main concept of which my idea is inspired by is found in Shelley Hornstein’s “Losing Site: Architecture, Memory and Place.”
Quoting her, “Architecture exists as a physical entity and therefore registers as a place that we come to remember…and [architecture] can exist to be found beyond the physical site itself in our recollection of it.”
She states that the physical object itself, in a spatial framework is the “vehicle” that connects us to our memories of that place.

I work around this concept in two ways:
1. The architecture can exist or be found beyond the physical site itself in our recollection of it.
This is where the idea of scavenging found-footage works well. I’ve been to the physical site of Building 20. I’ve seen the architecture and framework, smelled the musty, carpeted air and heard the sounds associated to the building (muffled voices and violent footsteps on such an austere, quiet dominion). Therefore, the challenge now is finding works of the past, these found-footage that is associated with both the memory of the place, the physicality of the place itself, and the reverence to what the place stands for then, as the Old Magistrates Court, and of now.

2. We being capable of “orchestrating in tandem at least two parallel images of places.”
The character of the Caretaker comes into play here. I’ve read novels, watched movies and television shows and seen photographs wherein the setting of the Court is magnified and used. This is where the character of the Caretaker, what I imagined him to be based on what I’ve read plus my own experience traversing the corridors of the building, is being explored. What does he feel walking along those quiet hallways when everyone has left? What are his thoughts with the squeaking of the door hinges and the loud rapping of his feet on the floors?

This approach is explained by the following examples:

VISUAL/AUDIO REFERENCES
There are two main video references:
1. Alter Bahnhof Video Walk – Janet Cardiff & George Bures Miller
Check it out here: http://www.cardiffmiller.com/artworks/walks/alterbahnhof_video.html
The participants watch things unfold on the small screen but feel the presence of those events deeply because of being situated in the exact location where the footage was shot. As they follow the moving images (and try to frame them as if they were the camera operator) a strange confusion of realities occurs. In this confusion, the past and present conflate and Cardiff and Miller guide us through a meditation on memory and reveal the poignant moments of being alive and present.

I was inspired by Cardiff and Miller’s exploration of both the past and the present in the video walk. This is one of the reasons why I chose to this particular medium as an inspiration. There’s a strange confusion of realities, and I plan to highlight this with using found-footage and real footage of the court itself.

2. The Illustrated Auschwitz
Check it out here: https://vimeo.com/100185502
“A small, cheap personal film, shot on super 8 . . . it is a documentary that completely avoids talking heads and the usual parade of facts and figures . . . the film poses the question, it is already implicitly there in the title, of how to illustrate such experience, of how to represent the unrepresentable.

Similarly, this documentary talks about the experience of a woman who survived the infamous Auschwitz concentration camp as a child. The film documents her story while providing a collage of images, most not directly linked to the story.
I will use footage to both directly link and not link it to the story I’m telling in, providing the abstract of emotion in the court.

One main sound reference:
3. Nocturne – 360documentaries
Check it out here: http://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/360/nocturne/5617366
Mainly the beginning sounds, diegetic, introducing the setting. I’m going to be utilising the same entry in my piece before the visuals begin.

4. Other
archive.org sounds and reels.

WORK SO FAR
1. Video – 
I went to Building 20 with my trusty Everio HD Camcorder to film myself walking through the buildings and room in Building 20. I specifically chose to use this camera just so I can see what a “grainy” footage would look like.
For the final recording, I will be using the JVC Pro HD camera.
For editing, I will be using Adobe Premier Pro and thanks to George, special effects.

2. Footage – archive.org, sounds, photographs, etc.
I’ve started compiling some footage that I will be using in this folder.

3. Six Acts:
I’ve also come up with the six acts or segments that my video is divided up in which helps in categorising and organising production:  

Screen Shot 2015-04-23 at 11.38.24 pm

Each Act explores a different aspect of the Place. i.e. Act I – I am introduces the character of the Caretaker, Act II- Gavel is about the utilising of the court and so forth.

Act Length:
30-40 seconds each, max 1 minute

ORDER OF WORK

Screen Shot 2015-04-23 at 11.40.59 pm

ACCESS & HELP
Filming – may need to use tracking equipment for the tracking shots; people to help out on the day of the shoot

Adobe Premier Pro – general editing queries

WORKS TO DATE
Check out my Ghosts and Spaces page here for past and up-and-coming blog posts and constant updates about the film!

Film Shots: Modernity ruins

Update: I am now filming a documentary-style short film with the “Caretaker” as the main voice/narrator. Featuring his daily life in the Old Magistrates Court, what does his job entail? What is the place to him? And what is he to the place? How does one represent the unrepresentable “emotion”?


It was a cold, Autumn afternoon when the sun peeked here and there and I had my sleeves rolled a quarter of the way up. I was warm enough, sure, but it was definitely a lot warmer entering the Old Magistrates’ Court with nothing but a bag that makes a tremendous noise whenever I take a step, and a homemade camera – for the authenticity, of course – to capture some moving images with the flair of an old man caretaker.

What I need to avoid when filming 1800-esque style:

  • Humming generators. In a carpeted, semi-insulated place, it makes a violent modern disruption.
  • Plaque signs: Toilets, Exit signs, wayfinding, room numbers
  • People…in suits, mobile phones, clicking heels, security on patrol (sweat drop here), business talks
  • Furniture: three to four brightly-coloured chairs, politics and business magazines
  • Fluorescent lights
  • Car noises; lots of beeping and revving, and in the midst of such quietness, the obnoxious sounds of a green walking light

I figured though, that I would drown out the sounds with the narration and perhaps some music too. But those physical visuals are a real pain. A real, real pain. I tried to film more carefully the second time around, but the modernity still surprises you after a turn. The kitchen is dastardly commercial. I framed the only old-ish cupboard on site and that makes for only 0.5 of a second.

Hm. More revision, for sure.

Sounds: Have a guess!

Below are some of the recordings I did of Building 20 a.k.a Old Melbourne Goal. Have a guess of some of the sounds you can hear.

Sound I.

Sound II.

Sound III. (start at 00:00:21 as I was fidgety in the beginning)

Next post will explain my own thoughts in regards to these!

 

Hook: Laneways and the Grid System

I love Melbourne’s Laneway Culture. Really, I do. And no, you most likely won’t find me with an obscure-coloured Holga and my Oxfords traipsing along these little lanes taking photographs of macarons in velvet-coloured boxes or sipping authentic chocolat chaud. I live too far away for this kind of endeavour, but when I do get the chance, oh do I try.

But I’m here to engage with Professor Martyn Hook’s articulation of the reason behind the sudden emergence of such culture. And it has nothing to do with the quirkiness of them hipsters.

Night Vision of Melbourne, Australia

Melbourne seen from the International Space Station at night reveals its young history. Unlike the winding streets in older European cities, Melbourne’s streetlights follow a more planned grid system. Established in 1835 around the natural bay of Port Phillip, Melbourne is the capital of the state of Victoria in Australia.

I’d like you take a deep breath in before we continue. Don’t you just want to say “Whoa” but with a full stop instead of a violent exclamation point? I’m spellbound by the composition, the singularity, all perpendicular lines, unbent, untwisted. And if you zoom in a lot closer, you’ll see what I’m talking about with those laneways.

Professor Martyn of RMIT’s architecture and design described the superimposing of the grid not as a landscape function, but in fact, an economic one. The Laneway Culture is vibrant and unconventionally appealing, and that’s exactly the point. The very city of Melbourne, divided up by streets thanks to the power of the grid lines, is an invitation for commerce. What can be done there? What can be traded? How can these smaller streets be used?

And RMIT University works the same way. Looking back, RMIT had been a closed-off University, barricaded by a watchman who made certain that only students were allowed to pass through, specifically in Bowen Street. Nowadays, anyone can pretty much walk in, walk through and no one would give a water’s dam that they are actually walking through an academic institution. And why would they?

RMIT organises itself as close to how the city organises itself too. The University invites the city in so there’s the commerce there. And RMIT is surrounded by civic centres, much like the whole of Melbourne. Looking from Bowen Street, there’s the State Library of Victoria to your right and across from that, Melbourne Central. Up top is the Old Melbourne Gaol, and to your left, the City Baths. Sound civitas enough for you?

Practice

I loved the notion of “letting the city in.” It makes me think of the security issues that may arise with this pursuit of commerce; the value of the University as a whole in the eyes of both students and staff as opposed to those unaffiliated to it. The Laneway Culture (more of in the next post) and the superimposing of a grid on every new map back whence Colonial days because systems are a must.

It really does make me think more of the reasons behind the making of the city, and specifically, of RMIT itself and how I may be able to document Building 20’s significance in my future project.

Some in the list:

  • Economic Function
  • Commerce
  • Surrounded by civic centres – what does this mean?
  • Maybe Building 20’s exterior placement has some sort of significance that can be researched and further developed?
  • Does the interior of Building 20 have anything to do with its surroundings? And if so, how can I use this to my advantage in telling my story and representing place?

Oh, lots to think about!

Sites and Non-Sites: Public Records Office

A reading, Background Noise: Perspectives on Sound Art by Brandon LaBelle distinguishes the “site” and the “non-site.” As such: the gallery (museum, exhibitions, etc.) is a “non-site” that functions as the place to house the “site” of the actual artistic work. It “indexes” the actions of the artist wherein artistic reflection and criticality develops.

Retracing a couple of weeks back, my class and I went on a little dizzying adventure to the Public Records Office where we traversed this labyrinthine maze of archived public records preserved at a calculated temperature and humidity (I found it rather stuffy) that are not exactly for the public’s viewing. It was a vast underground chamber of records dating back to the 1800’s. I wouldn’t exactly count this as an artistic “site” per se, but it was a site nonetheless; housing information upon information about Victoria from memories, events, records of immigration and shipping, criminal trials and prisons, wills, royal commissions, governors, probates and so forth.

It may not have looked like it with the organised stacks of a modern archiving system, but each vertical storage system holds a particular meaning to people of then, now and the future.

Practice

What I garnered from the visit, firstly, is the absolving of my preconceived notion that the Public Records Office was nothing but, for no better word, boring. I expected stacks upon stacks of yellowing papers of wills and events and policies and manifestos, and sure there were some, but there were more hidden behind those grey walls.
Maps, poison bottles, bullet once lodged in a body of a murdered man, the very court trial signed slip that happened sometime between 1800-1899; a vast collection of trinkets and goods that were once held by hands who are now long gone.

There was so much history in the place. It was a site of archaeology and excavation and it brought up a number of ideas for my pursuit in my representation of place.

What is place? As Cresswell defines it, a space that has meaning, a meaningful location. The Public Records Office advanced my perception towards archiving. It, in a way, presented a very documented index of the past, rich in historical exposé.

I’ve been thinking of creating an Application for my final project during the year and my approach is history and interactivity. More on that later, but the way the Public Records Office archives and houses information in its own unique way has definitely given me a bit more of an idea as to how I can historically approach my project.

locam magistram

Disparate and picturesque, limestone and basalt are only some of the words used to describe the Old Magistrates’ Court that sits in old Russell and La Trobe street, always passed by. Flanked by “copper-clad turrets” and surmounted by “arched windows” tinted and aloof, listen closely: you can almost hear the thud of an age-old gavel compelling you to law and order.

When we marched through the, ironically, automatic doors – the conduit from building 1 – I was immediately disarranged. Some of the questions that filtered through my brain was, “Where am I?” “Is this real?” “Did I just emerge from a time-machine and dream-landed to the Renaissance?” Perhaps, if I touched the walls they would crumble. But alas, the musky smell of the carpeted floors and wooden benches that sat across Romanesque-style wall panels bespoke of a since-1884-old building that is more than passed by these days whether you’re a University student or not. It is simply forgotten.

But don’t let me traumatise the adventure with some sadness. Let’s revive it with a modern-day splash…

with much probing
– a short to describe feelings

She hadn’t a choice, really. She cannot simply walk away without fishing out her only means to photograph and collate. With a harsh pull and a muted capture, she ventured to a place she felt was something she only read a book of.IMG_0999

The space around her felt far from thin. The air was packed, almost suffocating in its age. There was a holy silence. Softened footsteps and whispered awes, she couldn’t keep her mind from imagining a magistrate walking these same corridors or that hallway over there that led to even more doors.

She felt intruding, to say the least. It was as if she was not meant to enter the vestibule of this great bastion of law and order. Her fingers ghosted over a marble-step that disappeared towards the first-floor.

IMG_0995She shivered.

Though the sun shone out through the arched windows, she knew, she just knew, that the place was haunted by the sheer expression of strength that was so romantically Roman.

Ironic.

But perhaps George Austin had wanted to leave the plebeians speechless after all.


If you can’t tell by my little short above, I’ve a real passion for the ancients. The entirety of the place is my favourite. But I have a particular fondness to this L-shaped peristyle courtyard, which I found – contradictory to Edquist’s muses who found it an “unusual” feature in an institutional building – was so perfunctory in position, only slightly odd, offering an authentic Roman feel. Austin, the great architect he was, really did a number with placing this courtyard here. For unlike other buildings that may boast the romantic interior and exterior of the age-old Romanesque, the courtyard itself is carved in the very heart of this stone masonry, thus marking the building as far more reverent to the original Roman architecture than of the other sites of the institution.

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And this reverence is what makes mine heart cry a bit.


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The State Library of Victoria has an extensive collection of photographs and books, manuscripts and articles with above photo being one of them. Entitled, “The Kelly Trial – The Scene in Court” (guess which court!), this photograph goes back to that particular moment I had when my group traversed the walls of this old court.

On the audience stands,metres back from the judge’s seat, there is a long wooden divider. Seemingly unblemished upon first look, it’s terribly easy not to notice the scribbles on timber. More like scratches, carvings, really, superimposed by some students’ ink. Tribal.

I tried to decipher some of the words but couldn’t. Most were faded, though still quite ingrained. My fingers ghosting over them, you could perfectly touch the grooves.

I had wondered if, in that room, where Ned Kelly was on trial, someone in the audience actually felt disinterested enough to actually carve graffiti on it. Something to ponder…

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Nowadays, the Old Magistrates’ Court is cartographically known as “Building 20” for the RMIT-goers. Not entirely sure which faculty uses court rooms as their classrooms (and I envy them to the greatest degree), but as nominally clued-in, it was used as a judicial court, of course, and as stated here, then Victorian Premier Hon. Thomas Bent, promised the Council of the Working Men’s College (RMIT) that this court would become their main administrative building.

In conclusion, I wish to visit this building yet again but this time, with summoned courage, at time where it’s a little darker than usual. Melbourne summer, though Autumn now, still promises an sunny 7.30pm so it didn’t work so well in that regard. But I wonder just what else this building beholds when admiring it by moonlight…