When past and present pupils meet

Last week I had the opportunity to have a luncheon with other alumni from Papanui High in Christchurch. The luncheon was followed by a tour of the current school, guided by senior students. These events are rare and it was quite by chance that I heard about it in advance. 

I'd been chatting to an ex-Waitakere City Council colleague Darryl who mentioned the get-to-gether and so we discovered we had both gone to the very same high school, but that our paths had never crossed. Darryl had been there a little ahead of me and left just before I arrived. Alas for me, that was the case for most of the attendees. There was no-one else at the luncheon I had known during my time at the high school.

The school was originally called Papanui Technical college and opened in 1936. It was renamed Papanui High School in 1944. My maternal uncle, Eric McNabb attended while it was still a technical college. There he is in a cadet's uniform at the college.

I attended  Papanui High School from1968-72, leaving at the end of the seventh form year. I'd been a member of various choirs, the orchestra, the drama club and photography club and a chamber music group. I had continued to play the violin and was active in school productions. 

My last year there saw me in the lead role in the 'Calamity Jane' production. Some of you might think I was well cast and am still a 'calamity'. I was a big success in the production and it was one of the few times in life I felt appreciated or talented.[photos show me signing autographs while principal Ted Fancy and his wife speak to my mother, me stripping during a rehearsal in the hall and then threatening with a rifle a bar patron in the same musical Calamity Jane ] 

My school gave me an opportunity to discover aspects of myself that I still use today. That's the mark of a good school and although I was never a great scholastic talent I did cram a fair amount of experiences in and seem to have gone further than many alumni, in certain areas.

I enjoyed listening to other alumni's stories and being shown around the current school. We all reminisced constantly, sharing our recollections with our student guides because society and the times have radically changed. 

From time to time I would step back and listen in as the transfer of school history between alumni and current students picked up pace. I was watching something very important happening and I thoroughly enjoyed interacting with the senior students who seemed confident, well-behaved, open-minded and balanced.

When we had been students at the school we were streamed, depending on our IQ and academic tendancies. I was put in the professional stream, others were more commercial or technical. There was even a unique class with the prefix NM for non-maths. I never progressed maths beyond the fourth form and for my final three years I was spared the suffering of not understanding maths lessons. There were only a handful of us who were excused but we were all reasonably intelligent, just no good at maths. I wasn't much good at French either but, look where it eventually led me - life in France. My English teacher Mr Bunn married my French teacher Miss Cowie after I left.

In those days boys and girls were kept separate as much as possible, even in a co-educational environment. We found ways around that, of course. The only time I got a detention was for being in the music rooms after reasonable hours. 

A group of us were playing 'spin the bottle' and 'truth, dare or promise'. We were having a whale of a time and were not doing anything dreadful but as the group started to break up we were caught out by a member of staff. 

[See empty cloakroom and seating photo below for that very room]. It's hard to believe our orchestra instruments were stored there; my violin in its case on the seating, the double basses and cellos ranged along the walls. A smaller, separate room was used for the brass band instruments. I clearly remember my drama teacher Mr Bunn trying to encourage a younger boy and me to practice kissing there for the production of Romeo and Juliet. We were both mortified to be singled out and having to do THAT. I was a shy student mercilously tormented by the band boys because of my surname FREE. Boys can be so cruel.

Our alumni group were very saddened to see the integrity of the layout of the school almost unrecognisable. The cricket grounds out the front which had framed the main block had been replaced by ugly asphalt and cars. One key block had been amputated and flogged off in return for the use of a new gym and access to swimming. The old swimming pool was gone, instead there was a dance studio and Maori/Polynesian structure. The environs are far less aesthetic than they were, both inside and out and the principal explained it is difficult for the school, being sandwiched between a mall, big-box developments, a railway and lack of access and parking.

The school offers a broad range of subjects and even hosts an ESOL unit and one for Special Needs kids up to the age of 20. Our group got excited to see the solid materials department with so much technical equipment which includes 3D printing. "You are so lucky," we said to the students showing us around because we'd had to manage with almost nothing. 

There were plenty of ooos and ahhhs as we explored the campus, trying to orient ourselves with various buildings, but much has changed. Politics and a changing society have radically modified subject content, delivery and focus. At least girls and boys are free to follow any subject they wish. 

In my day I had no right to do technical drawing or sewing or other home economics. Girls, especially, knew they had to follow the career path dictated by their mothers. I did liberal studies in my last years at Pap and chose to render hairdressing services to ladies in a retirement home. The school paid for a portable kit for me and Langers hairdressing trained me. I did so well they offered me an apprenticeship but my mother scotched that idea. Too working class for her snobby ideas but maybe I would have had a chain of hairdressing salons and a stable career rather than the constant instability that became my reality.

I was particularly curious to see the theatre and music departments. Oh how I would love to be a student in today's times. They have their own little theatre and lighting gear. As I toured the new music rooms I saw plenty of acoustic guitars, an electric guitar, bass and drum kit but little in the way of classical instruments other than piano. There was a long table covered in electronic musical keyboards. How cool!

The former gymnasium is now a study room. There's an ICT room full of computers, photoshop and graphic design software. It really is a different world but our group agreed our level of English is vastly superior to that of modern students. 

I was stunned to be back in the old school assembly hall which was much as I remembered it. While no-one was looking, I pushed through those double doors that lead to the old music rooms and backstage and let the memories flood back. It's all old and sad looking but still recognisable. A lot of maintenance and improvements have not been allowed to happen due to rebuilding plans following the earthquakes. I climbed the steps backstage to access the stage. It was almost 50 years since I had stood on it. It felt great and entirely natural. Sooo much water has flowed under my bridge since 1972. I'm a lot more confident.

We remembered the uncomfortable wooden benches we used to sit on for assembly, boys one side and girls the other, school orchestra just in front of the stage, staff parading in while we sang the school song in latin. Crumbs! but we had respect for our elders (well, most of us did).

Large photo shows our group of alumni in the old assembly hall, me in mustard, Darryl on the left end of seating. We all enjoyed our trip back in time and into the future, interacting with students. I'd like to do more of that in future if given the opportunity.

The college in 1940. Note the space in front of the main wing which gave a wonderful perspective. Quite a bit of the space still existed when I studied there and the trees along the front on Langdon's Rd were a good size by then. credit photo  http://ketechristchurch.peoplesnetworknz.info/en/site/images/show/2586-papanui-technical-college-in-

the-1940s?view_size=medium
Below is the school orchestra in 1970, me in the top row second from right.

For those who are alumni, maybe you remember interacting with some of these teachers.

Other images of what is left of the old historic parts of the school. My heartfelt thanks to the staff and senior students for such a gift of revisiting such a key part of our pasts.

Long-awaited party has musical beginnings

 A long-expected age milestone occurred earlier this year. Unfortunately it was during lockdown level 4 and so my party was cancelled and I just had to amuse myself that day. "Bugger it," I thought. "I'm going to do this but do it even better later on."

And so I have. Laura came down from Palmerston North to help out. It was so lovely to spend the two days with her and have fun with friends and neighbours. As I commented during my slide presentation on 65 years of Frances Harrison's existence, other than my daughter Laura, there was no-one present who had known me more than two years. That was a shame. Those who had known me for a while and were invited couldn't make it. 

 

 

 

 

 

Having been obliged to move around NZ and France several times, most social and professional networks have long gone. It is really hard to start over in a new place at my age so social connections are treasured.

To give folks an idea of who I am and how I came to be where I am now with so many adventures and iterations, I made a presentation, showed a video, set up a bellydance costume display in my home and, with my new musical collaborator John, did a spot of entertaining. 

I've been teaching myself bass guitar and renovating my vocal chords. Music used to be an important part of my life in the past. I have played violin in NZ and France, piano and guitar and keyboards in NZ, taught music while a primary teacher, and established St Marks School Orchestra back in the 80s (it's still going) but aging can wreck what you want to do so I have channeled my music into something new.

Bass guitar has been on my bucket list for sometime. My fingers still haven't toughened up and it seems to take me longer these days to memorise and absorb things but never mind. It has been quite the learning curve with the physical challenges with the bass, I was pretty rusty on the bass clef but these days there are so many resources free online that you can use to teach yourself. I love my instrument and practice most days. I want to find other musicians who would like to play with me. That would be so much fun!

I am now also starting to sing at various music clubs around Christchurch for performance practice. Eventually my music partner and I will launch ourselves as a professional duo. [more on that in the future].

It's great to be focussing on something old but new - a music link from the old me to the present me. I hope one day there will be many more lovely people in my life. A big thank-you to Laura and John and all my guests for their contribution to a happy day. I'm keen to see where music might take me from now on, hoping it 's never too late as there's a lot more life behind me than ahead, but it's what you do with it that matters. I was desperately needing a project and voila!, here it is!

Little-known historic Canterbury gem.

One day, as I was driving through the Canterbury Plains, the last thing I expected to see pop up out of nowhere was a historic cottage made of ... concrete.

It is in a style reminiscent of structures in France and Britain so naturally it caught my eye, standing out, as it does, on the flat Canterbury Plains. Along with two other structures in the area, it is one of only 3 buildings that remain of the Barrhill Estate. It was built by Scottish immigrant John Wason in the 1870s as the gatekeeper's lodge. The gatekeeper was responsible for opening the gates to the Corwar estate, and conducting visitors to the mansion.

Corwar Lodge is a small building of around 45 square metres, constructed of concrete and with a hipped slate roof. It has four rooms and a central chimney. The walls are 30cm thick which must have given good insulation. 

There is only one external door which leads straight into the living room, then into a small pantry on the left and a small bedroom to the right. Through that there is another small room. The internal ceilings are all tongue and groove timber. The internal layout remains original.

It was shut up the day I saw it so all I could do was peek through the windows. It needs cleaning and dusting but does give an idea of what everyday life was like for a gatekeeper of those times.

Wason's Corwar mansion/homestead was built on the south bank of the Rakaia River. He wanted a British-style estate, acting as a squire, so he built a mini village called Barrhill and planted oaks, limes, walnuts and poplars.

Barrhill Village was at first quite prosperous comprising of the Church, school, schoolhouse, a bakery, blacksmith, post office, boiling works (for mutton), store, inn and about 15 cottages. When the railway bypassed Barrhill in the 1890s, the village started to decline and Wason sold up in 1900 and moved back to Scotland. Not long after that his mansion burned down.

The small lodge fell into disrepair over the war years. Restoration was completed in 1972 and it led to the formation of the Barrhill Corwar Lodge Preservation Society. It is now the responsibility of the Ashburton District Council and can be visited on request. If you are heading to Rakia this may be worth a visit.

The art of Passementerie

I'd like to introduce you to a little-known industry where artisanship, creativity and beautiful materials combine to enliven historic buildings and homes or contemporary appartments, museums and fashion. 

Passementerie consists of ribbons, bobbins, tassels, fringing and braids. It's an old industry that survives to this day in Europe. I first started to appreciate it while visiting chateaux in France and Royal residences in England.  

Any passementiers in the 1600s were French Protestant Huguenots who, on being forced to flee France due to religious persecution, took their skills and tools with them, thus transforming the skill base available in London. 

Today, there are at least three major businesses in Paris still manufacturing these exquisite 3D objects and trims and other businesses in other locations. Multiple contemporary uses and the renovation of historic buildings means there is a demand for these products. Much of the work is done by hand, as well as using looms and other mechanical devices.

I discovered an order book of passementerie in Millers Home Centre, Christchurch, while I was in the throes of designing the interiors of my new home under construction in 2018. Curtain tiebacks (embrasses) were priced at around $120 each. Hmm, I hesitated. Yes it is pricey but they had to be ordered from Paris and the workmanship and detailing was outstanding. I waited a couple of months while considering various decor options.  

I went back to Millers but couldn't find the book. I was informed they would no longer order in as volumes were too low. I had left my decision to proceed too late. Instead, I had to make do with the cheap and nasty stuff available from Millers. Mass-produced in Asia at $15 each, and they look it. Sigh! I had the same problem trying to find trim for reupholstering two antique French armchairs. No retailer had anything suitable. My upholsterer had a very limited choice but we did manage to choose a trim that could match the fabric.

While in France I would come across situations where passementerie had been essential decoration in the past: fringing and tassels for royal carriages and hearses, decorations for horse bridles and carts, curtain decoration, lampshades, bed and cushion decoration, upholstery, fashion accessories, jewelery. The Victorians loved tassels and bobbles and these items were widely used in NZ up until around 1916 when they fell out of favour and were associated with 'stuffy old things'. There is currently a resurgence as fashion houses use more and more of these exquisite decorations to distinuish their designs.

Their manufacture is interesting and I include the link to videos you can watch. No wonder the 'real macoy' is expensive but worth it.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WxLLByW8O_Y

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_CXb7GPKHjQ 

And this guy was voted best artisan 2011- lovely work https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KDVtWtN8oSk

First up is research for the different materials needed for each order. The threads are grouped by width and quality, in appropriate color tones and according to use. If the dyed material cannot be found in existing stock, the raw materials are dyed. After dyeing, they are spooled.

The next step is preparation of the threads on the loom. If the item is composed of decorative ornaments, these are prepared with le retordeur, the mechanism for twisting threads.

Some materials are destined for the mechanical loom: first carefully threaded onto the loom as the pattern requires. The mechanical loom enables the creation of ribbons, braids and bullion fringes.

Still other materials are destined for the work-table, where items are assembled by hand without the use of looms: for example tassels, complex gimps.

The last step is the production itself: weaving on a Jacquard mechanic loom, hand weaving or at the handwork table. 

You can buy quality work online and see examples on eBay and Amazon. There are heaps of photos on Pintarest. You can also teach yourself to make simple tassels via YouTube. You'll be learning a whole new vocabulary too.

The photos are those I have taken to show you some ways passementerie is used. They include from sites such as Versailles and Fontainebleau. Queen Elizabeth wouldn't let us take photos inside Windsor Castle to show off English versions.

 

Solving an urban drainage problem

When you buy a new section in a swanky new development you expect you will get a safe place to live with a useable section. The terrain is flat and grassed. T1 ground, so not prone to liquifaction during earthquakes and too far from the sea for tsunamis. It's a town known for good drainage and you think, " Well,  it should be good for gardening." 

The covenants are onerous and owners are expected to spend quite a bit of money on landscaping to increase the amenity of the subdivision.  Council charges high rates for the privilege of living in Selwyn. The general area was a farm. My part of the subdivision used to be, I have discovered, an orchard.

Since late 2018 the back half of my section has been getting progressively damper, to the point of serious surface flooding. A large part became totally unusable. All my plants had died and it was impossible to get a trowel in to dig out weeds. Each time it rained I felt incredibly stressed as the water crept across my section, rotting my raised beds and compost bins.

Clearly, the soil would not drain. One neighbour wasn't having problems such as this but the other was, though to a much lesser extent. They had lost trees and plants too, tried to dig out their beds to a depth of 1m and replace the shitty soil with compost but to limited good effect. What to do? 

I went in person to the Selwyn District Council to see what the problem could be and what to do about it. At first they did not want to deal with it, telling me to simply send an email with some photos. Yeah, right! Knowing I would be fobbed off if I did that I stood my ground and asked to speak to an engineer. Eventually, after a bit of nervousness on council staff's part they agreed. After a wait, a stormwater engineer spoke with me saying Council don't give advice and that anything on my section is MY problem. They only care about what's on the street. I pointed out there was clearly a problem with my section and the council was in partnership with the developer. I also pointed out I am a pensioner with everything I have, sunk into my home. Could there be a problem relating to the sewer crossing my property? The engineer said he would get back to me.

Later that day I was pleased to see a council contractor drive up to take a look. He agreed it was not normal but we could not smell effluent. He felt the ground was the problem, as did I, but he decided he would check the sewer manhole further down the road to see if levels had dropped. I did not hear back from Council for 10 days so I rang and left a message. It was not returned. Clearly, they had only shown some interest in case a public health scandal was looming. Yet again I had to go in and front up. Not good enough SDC. The engineer said he had been too busy to get back to me or return my call. I told him I paid my rates and had worked for a council in the past so I understood all about service. It was better service where I had worked than what I was receiving from SDC, that you do NOT just ignore a ratepayer or customer. It takes little effort to send a quick email to say exactly when I could expect info. He then said he would send me an email regarding the matter. He never did.

With yet more rain falling in winter I was getting desperate, worried for my plants and expensive landscaping so I contacted the subdivision developer (but not the person I had had such unpleasant dealings with during the possum affair). I was pleased he took my problem seriously and he sent a couple of employees around to check it out. They agreed it was not normal and not my fault. They took pictures and it all seemed like a useful and productive meeting. They would discuss and find a solution.

They came back a few days later with a slightly different attitude, looking for a way out of what was clearly their responsibility. They admitted the ground was not good quality but said I must take some responsibility for the problem. You what? Well, apparently they had now decided it was the fault of my lawn. 

They had looked online and found the manufacturer and the description that said when laid it would help germination by conserving 30% of the humidity applied at the time. With spades and crowbars they started digging parts of my lawn up to prove a point. I was shocked and not convinced. What I saw was good root growth and a lot of impermeable soil underneath.

I contacted the lawn manufacturer to let him know what was being said about his product. He was shocked and gobsmacked. They've been in business many years, have never had a drainage problem because it's a biodegradeable product which disappears within months once it is laid. Still, I felt shaken, having to now defend my lawn which couldn't drain because the soil underneath could not absorb water, water could not flow away. 

Eventually the developer agreed to remediate the drainage after a friend had put me in contact with the Council Development Engineer via a roundabout route. (see, it's who you know) He was very familiar with the development, of course, very nice and popped over to take a look. He told me what could help the drainage. I wrote a detailed instruction and drew a diagram for the developer to plan the repairs. Small modifications to the relocation on my compost bins were necessary to avoid digging down and distrubing the sewer (there's an easement above it).

A hydrovac machine arrived behind the back of my property. A big sucky truck and waterblaster were used to break up the compacted ground, rocks, silt and clay. It was a hell of a job, even for that machine. It took hours longer than planned as my section was full of tree roots. Clearly the development contractor had not prepared my section properly, scaped the shit off the other sections in my street and dumped it and compacted it on my lot. The soil used was clay and silt with rocks, not at all what should have been laid down. There's nothing I can do about that but I am so disappointed.

I do appreciate that the developer has tried to give some drainage relief because I do not have the resources to try to fix something that should never have happened. They found a solution (proposed by the council development engineer) to cause the least damage to my urban property as machinery cannot access my section now.

A trench was dug, a narrow soakpit constructed. Filter fabric was laid around novacoil drainage pipe to be set and connected to a perforated pipe in the middle of the soakpit. The pipe in the soakpit has a lid so it could be inspected in future or silt sucked out if neccessary. They had to go down 2m to get past the hard pan and would have liked to go deeper but the rocks in the bottom were too big for the hydrovac to remove.

Fine gravel was then tipped in followed by larger gravel. I was told I would not be getting gravel that matched my paths alongside as it was too expensive. It's ugly as hell that part of my section, but at least the trench drains. Twenty centimeters away from it the soil does not drain, of course, so I will always have a problem, though lessser than what it has been. 

They have screwed plywood to the bottom of my compost bins to stop soil getting into the gravel. OK but useless for a compost bin so a neighbour has drilled holes in the bottom and I have laid weedmat to stop soil working down into the gravel and trench, yet allowing rainwater to drain away. The Council engineer had said I could not plant anything in the gravel nor have a raised bed on top. The council development engineer never replied to my project report and photos and request for  confirmation that what had been suggested and done was OK. Folks tell me Council will be distancing itself from my problem.

Through no fault of my own I cannot use part of my section as I would like. It was supposed to be a bushwalk. Now it just resembles the Waimakariri riverbed with sludge sprayed all over my fences and veges. I need to find a way to make it more aesthetic. Money, money.

Waterblasting does not remove the sludge so I have had to buy paint to repaint my fences. Part of my lawn has been destroyed. It's disappointing. It could have been worse but should have been better. Thank goodness the developer pitched in. I hope they have learnt something but they insisted to the end my lawn was to blame though parts nearby not in grass are still sopping wet. I can see I will have to do more drainage work myself in future, to save my potager beds.

It's hard on your own as a pensioner to deal with powerful organisations and businesses who may or may not want to play fair. It's really stressful and you always have to stick to your guns as a minimum but that is no guarantee of resolution. I could not have got very far without a little help from those who know 'the system'. I hope those of you with drainage problems find the construction details useful. I also hope past problems with possums and water are the last problems with my section.