Historic Site

<html><body>
GUEST OBSERVER
The roar of the crowd at the stadium. Jostling to see the New Year fireworks in the public square. Captivated by the band at the pub. Meeting mates outside the train station. These experiences conjure sites of importance for each of us.
As a Melburnian, places that come to mind for me are the MCG, Federation Square, Flinders Street Station and Festival Hall. Sydneysiders could be thinking about the <a href="https://www.propertyobserver.com.au/https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/223371661">Opera House</a>, Central Station, the Enmore Theatre and Homebush Stadium.
It’s people that make these places important. Without crowds, an idling Gabba in Brisbane or an empty Cottesloe Beach in Perth is a less exciting place.
Each of the above places possesses outstanding social value. It’s why state heritage laws and local planning schemes can protect places of community importance.
However, this <a href="https://researchoutput.csu.edu.au/en/publications/contested-space-social-value-and-the-assessment-of-cultural-signi">does not happen enough</a>. Of more than 2,300 items on the <a href="https://heritagecouncil.vic.gov.au/heritage-protection/levels-of-protection/">Victorian Heritage Register</a>, for instance, about 10% are listed for their social value.
Although data are scarce, the numbers are likely similar for heritage lists across Australia. This leaves treasured meeting places – <a href="https://theconversation.com/once-a-building-is-destroyed-can-the-loss-of-a-place-like-the-corkman-be-undone-112864">neighbourhood pubs are a prime example</a> – at risk.
With restrictions on public gatherings, urban heritage places of social significance have more allure than ever. Just as we are distanced from each other, we are separated from these places. Their temporary absence in our lives, and the sense of community and comforting memories we associate with them, only add to their cultural significance.
 
However, heritage typically gives more priority to the historic and aesthetic integrity of older fabric, buildings and structures than to ongoing social and cultural relationships <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/342624259_Place_and_Heritage_Conservation">between people and built places</a>.
A lack of participatory methods to involve the public in heritage decisions is another problem with how authorities and the private sector manage the cultural values of historic places.
Two landmark cases
For more than a century, authorities <a href="https://www.propertyobserver.com.au/https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/220585029">typically safeguarded</a> monumental architecture and places embodying the <a href="https://www.propertyobserver.com.au/https://trove.nla.gov.au/version/44846813">apparent progress of the Australian nation</a>, such as public buildings and memorials.
Since the 1970s, <a href="https://australia.icomos.org/publications/charters/">additional cultural values</a> – social, scientific and spiritual – have been inscribed in heritage practice. Yet, as I explore in <a href="https://search.informit.com.au/documentSummary;dn=997484554716146;res=IELAPA">my research</a>, traditional ideas of aesthetic and historic value have been privileged in conservation. Other significant cultural values have not been treated as equally important.
The introduction of social value saved Flinders Street Station when it was threatened with demolition in 1972 for high-rise development.
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/333975/original/file-20200511-49584-eahqrx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=1000&amp;fit=clip"><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/333975/original/file-20200511-49584-eahqrx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=754&amp;fit=clip" alt=""></a>
 Model of Flinders Gate Project, 1974. Wolfgang Sievers/State Library of Victoria (reproduced with SLV permission)
The National Trust wanted to preserve the train station. But its <a href="https://search.informit.com.au/documentSummary;dn=997484554716146;res=IELAPA">committee of architects</a> perceived it as an “architectural monstrosity” because its Edwardian Baroque style was out of favour.
After long deliberations, the National Trust deemed the station a landmark […] a major focal point of Melbourne’s city life [with] the Clocks! section [sic] inextricably bound to the social fabric of Melbourne and Victoria.
<img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/334232/original/file-20200512-66707-1yumqxu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=754&amp;fit=clip" alt="">
The famous clocks overlook the intersection of Flinders and Swanston streets, pictured here in the early 1970s. Rennie Ellis/State Library of Victoria (reproduced with SLV permission)
So Flinders Street Station was protected for its lasting importance to Melburnians. Only later would it be recognised for its architecture.
Despite its social value, <a href="https://www.propertyobserver.com.au/https://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-11-10/science-of-flinders-street-station-new-look-paint/9135080">when the station was repainted</a> in original colours in 2017, there was little public engagement in this decision. <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0272494412000424">Research</a> on people’s perceptions of historic places has shown they often prefer agedness and wornness over traditional conservation works that make places look new again: the <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books?id=0y9jCHHdKokC&amp;pg=PA119&amp;lpg=PA119&amp;dq=%22patina+of+age%22+ruskin&amp;source=bl&amp;ots=7C2jBgWES3&amp;sig=ACfU3U2AjpX-Zcee--19v8t1KMOfx76CIQ&amp;hl=en&amp;sa=X&amp;ved=2ahUKEwiZhe_zh67qAhWCyDgGHUEKAtQQ6AEwAnoECDAQAQ#v=onepage&amp;q=%22patina%20of%20age%22%20ruskin&amp;f=false">patina of age</a> has value. <a href="https://www.propertyobserver.com.au/https://www.taylorfrancis.com/books/e/9780429506352">Public participation</a> could have resulted in a different conservation decision based on Melburnians’ preferred colours and textures.
Another landmark case involves the MCG. Authorities rejected a comprehensive heritage listing for the stadium in the 1980s, when the Great Southern Stand was developed, because a listing might have prevented redevelopment.
The MCG designation was reconsidered, however, in the lead-up to the 2006 Commonwealth Games. It then met revised thresholds to be fully state-listed. It was “<a href="https://www.newspapers.com/newspage/126894666/">the matches and public not the buildings</a>” that created the heritage importance.
And to retain the cultural importance of the MCG in the future lives of Melburnians, flexibility on the stands was required. With the support of club members and heritage authorities, the <a href="https://www.propertyobserver.com.au/https://vhd.heritagecouncil.vic.gov.au/places/64493">1928 Members’ Pavilion</a> made way for the new Northern Stand.
<img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/336626/original/file-20200521-102667-ajzwnp.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=754&amp;fit=clip" alt="">
 Ian Harrison Hill, ‘Demolition of Members’ Stand [Melbourne Cricket Ground]’, photograph, 2004. State Library of Victoria, Pictures Collection, H2004.24/4 (reproduced with the permission of the State Library of Victoria and Ian Harrison Hill)
Social value in the past, present and future
At the MCG, social value was projected into the future, allowing for flexibility during redevelopment.
At Flinders Street Station, social value was perceived as developing in the past. The recent station works demonstrated that, even when public places are heritage-listed, their management often does not include participatory methods.
Neighbourhood pubs, which are being <a href="http://www.theage.com.au/interactive/2017/last-drinks/">rapidly redeveloped</a>, are another form of at-risk public place with great social value. Pubs become important to people for their longevity as gathering places, often more so than for their architecture, facades and interiors.
<img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/345460/original/file-20200703-33926-1dxq2fv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=754&amp;fit=clip" alt="">
 The now-demolished historic Greyhound Hotel in St Kilda had potential to inspire the public realm in future development works. National Trust of Australia (Victoria)
The National Trust is <a href="http://www.trustadvocate.org.au/national-trust-backs-city-of-port-phillip-call-to-protect-social-heritage/">seeking to conserve</a> some pubs. However, authorities have far more power to mandate the continuity of historic places’ built fabric rather than ensuring redevelopments <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/13527258.2017.1399283">retain community spaces</a>.
Even when this does happen, opportunities can be missed <a href="https://www.heraldsun.com.au/leader/south-east/search-begins-for-venue-managers-for-reborn-london-hotel-in-port-melbourne/news-story/596d9585d7ee7d55c4d697c322a3d11f">to use historic elements of the demolished buildings</a>. Participatory and social approaches to heritage have unrealised potential to guide the design and use of the future public realm.
A major step towards placing people at the heart of heritage would be to mandate and fund a diversity of participatory methods in state and local heritage governance. It’s important, too, to embed community participation across private sector heritage practice. Only by working towards more holistically conserving the broader cultural values of historic places can heritage achieve cultural stewardship for people.<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/138128/count.gif?distributor=republish-lightbox-basic" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" style="border: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; margin: 0 !important; max-height: 1px !important; max-width: 1px !important; min-height: 1px !important; min-width: 1px !important; opacity: 0 !important; outline: none !important; padding: 0 !important; text-shadow: none !important;">
<a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/james-lesh-257650">James Lesh</a>, Postdoctoral Research Fellow, Australian Centre for Architectural History, Urban and Cultural Heritage, <a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/university-of-melbourne-722">University of Melbourne</a>
This article is republished from <a href="https://theconversation.com">The Conversation</a> under a Creative Commons license. Read the <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-heritage-protection-is-about-how-people-use-places-not-just-their-architecture-and-history-138128">original article</a>.
</body></html>

j.ballantyne1990-6AQqhLzZaK

Heritage protection is about how people use places, not just architecture and history

<html><body>
Breakfast Point’s historic Blacksmiths Workshop at 123 Peninsula Drive has been snapped up by a high net worth individual for $7,300,000.
Following a competitive expressions of interest campaign, the 3,133 sqm heritage building was marketed and sold by Ray White Commercial Western Sydney Managing Director Peter Vines and Directors Victor Sheu and Joseph Assaf.
Providing uninterrupted views of the Parramatta River, Mr Vines said the landmark property attracted interest from developers, residential buyers and operators in the hospitality industry.
“This was one of the most unique properties I’ve ever worked on and it was no surprise that we received more than 100 enquiries, and nine offers, given there can be numerous future uses for it,” Mr Vines said.
“This was the last available waterfront asset within the award-winning Breakfast Point master planned development, nearing completion by Rose Group and CBUS Property, on a 52ha site which is home to some 2,650 dwellings."
<img src="https://f.datasrvr.com/f1/820/15065/BP_4.JPG" width="640" data-imagetype="External">
The property was built in 1891 and has housed the display suite for the entire project for many years.
The building is 400 sqm internally and the site has an R3 Medium Density zoning, however, it has received approval for commercial use.
“It would suit hospitality, commercial office, residential or a mixture of uses which would need approval by the City of Canada Bay Council,” Mr Assaf said.
</body></html>

Historic Breakfast Point Blacksmiths Workshop sold

<html><body>
GUEST OBSERVATION
There are jackhammers everywhere. A new Parramatta is emerging out of the rubble, seeking to make real its tag line: “Australia’s next great city”. Thickets of new residential and commercial towers are rising – testament to the city’s ferocious ambition – overshadowing what remains of the squat, 1970s office blocks built during Parramatta’s previous development boom.
There are many today who loudly proclaim Parramatta’s centrality to the story of Sydney. Mike Baird, when premier of NSW in 2015, called Parramatta nothing less than “the infrastructure capital of the world”, its fortunes tied closely to those of the state and the nation. The west is booming, as the New South Wales government releases huge tracts of land in the north-west and south-west of Sydney for development, and developers are cashing in on Parramatta’s rise.
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/229562/original/file-20180727-106530-15gurnm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=1000&amp;fit=clip"><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/229562/original/file-20180727-106530-15gurnm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=754&amp;fit=clip" alt=""></a>
It’s been claimed Parramatta is the infrastructure capital of the world. <a href="https://www.propertyobserver.com.au/https://www.flickr.com/photos/redwolf/39847046615" target="_blank">redwolfoz/Flickr</a>, <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/" target="_blank">CC BY</a>
National Australia Bank is setting up its new headquarters at the A$2 billion development that is Parramatta Square. A new light rail network is on the way. Western Sydney University has completed its A$220.5 million high-rise campus. A new A$1 billion health precinct at Westmead is coming.
So, Parramatta is a city on the make. And the numbers tell us why. The NSW government’s population projections show Greater Sydney growing by more than 1.5 million people over the next two decades. The City of Parramatta’s population is forecast to grow by over 75,000 over the next decade alone.
Presented as objective fact, too often it’s forgotten that such numbers are primarily expressions not of a certain future but of a recent past, projected forward in time. Today’s population projections are comprised, to no small extent, by yesterday’s migration policies. They are not an inevitable future, but an intentional one, a story about where we want to go.
Western Sydney attracts a high proportion of Australia’s migrants. Parramatta, in particular, is a city being radically reshaped to meet the volume of demand projected off the back of this recent, record-breaking intake. Between the 2001 and 2016 census dates, the city welcomed almost 20,000 more Indian-born residents and 16,000 Chinese-born arrivals.
Over the same period, the number of Parramatta’s Australian-born grew by just 6,000. Today, the proportion of Parramatta’s population that identifies as Australian by ancestry is just 13%, compared to 23% for Australia as a whole.
Clearly, Parramatta’s A$10 billion transformation is preparing the city for a future that will be culturally distinct from its past. Australia’s next great city is emerging as a beacon of our nation’s hopeful, cosmopolitan future, built on growth, multiplied. But what kind of city will it be?
What makes a city
A city, after all, is more than the sum of its speculative real estate invest- ments and projected demand. Cities, as Leonie Sandercock reflected in her essay Practicing Utopia, are “neither organisms nor machines. They are flesh and stone intertwined. They are ‘built thought’.”
Surely, to be great a city must capture our imaginations. It must offer, all at once, a place to get lost in and a place in which to belong. In great cities we seek both refuge in the crowd and a sense of connection with something bigger than our selfies.
The greatest cities of the world also immerse us in experiential encounters with the archaeology of other eras. They are storied landscapes. Walking through these cities, we quite naturally absorb the daily integration of archaic infrastructures – horse troughs, cobblestones, ceramic piping – with the computationally connected services of our emergent present.
It is through the remnant traces of past eras that we can imagine a sense of physical connection with those who came before us. We hear a lot about the challenges that population growth brings to Australian cities. Mostly, we are conditioned to thinking of these challenges as infrastructural, or monetary.
But as our new, denser urban forms are rapidly realised, with forests of cranes and thickets of high-rise apartments replacing the sleepy suburbs that once represented the Australian dream, we’re also going to need to rebuild, as it were, the narratives of place and of belonging that define our cities.
As Robert Hughes once said, delivering a <a href="http://www.teachingheritage.nsw.edu.au/section07/d_ntref_hughes.php" target="_blank">National Trust lecture</a> in 1998 on Australia’s forgotten histories:
"An urban culture that predicates itself chiefly on an obsession with development is not worth having. A city needs deep memory, without which it becomes merely a stage set."
It is the accumulation of stories and experiences inscribed in built form that gives a place its distinct identity. Such stories are not only for the culturally sensitive: they drive real-estate investment too. When a city is rebuilt from scratch, we risk losing these stories and connections.
Australian cities have never been particularly good at celebrating the stories of people and place that have shaped them over time. Is this still true? More and more, our planners, designers, architects and developers seek to use the resources of the past to cultivate a contemporary sense of place. Decades of urban sprawl and featureless, automobile-dependent suburban landscapes have led to a renewed push for the creation of “liveable” urban identities that celebrate place and community.
The art of city building is now the art of place-making. In this context, local heritage becomes an asset; an important contributor to both economic and cultural vitality. You can see this in the prices paid for the converted warehouse buildings and sugar mills dotted across the suburban landscape.
So, if it’s going to be Australia’s next great city, the radical rebuilding of Parramatta is also an opportunity to ask questions about how we make use of the past as a resource for building the future.
Parramatta – a gathering place
So often celebrated within historical accounts as the “cradle of the colony”, Parramatta’s history has been synonymous with the story of Australia’s beginnings as a nation.
This, after all, is where Australia’s identity as an agricultural nation was first forged. Having followed Arthur Phillip down the river in search of arable land, it is where early convicts successfully proved not only the economic viability of the fledgling colony, but their worthiness as free citizens. It is likewise in Parramatta that the British government first tested its limits of moral and administrative governance in its new colony through the building of not only the first Government House, but also of prisons, factories, asylums and “native institutions”.
This heroic story about Parramatta’s colonial foundations continues to be told through sites like Experiment Farm, the Parramatta Female Factory and the many other colonial administration buildings that remain. You walk into the Parramatta Heritage Centre and you will learn much about this story. And yet, cleaving to the notion of European founding, somehow standing in for the beginning of time, has in turn obscured other narratives.
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/229558/original/file-20180727-106521-1mh522t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=1000&amp;fit=clip"><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/229558/original/file-20180727-106521-1mh522t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=754&amp;fit=clip" alt=""></a>
The Parramatta Female Factory continues to tell Parramatta’s colonial story. <a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d3/Parramatta_Female_Factory.jpg">Wikimedia Commons</a>
Parramatta’s founding is a big story, particularly when it helps forge the identity of Australia as a largely Europeanised nation. But the cradle story has also contributed to a certain blindness about the experiences of people in Parramatta since the days of Phillip and his men. It excludes millennia of Aboriginal occupation, their custodianship of the environment and continuing urban presence, as well as the great diversity of people who have arrived here from nations across the globe.
Rich as it is, Parramatta’s story requires considerable rethinking and public conversation in order to bring it into a stronger relation with the present. As Australia’s next great city appears in view, this dialogue is beginning to happen, and new evidence is being found within the rubble. A cultural plan for the new CBD released by the City of Parramatta in 2017 acknowledges that Parramatta “always was, always will be, a gathering place”.
An archaeological analysis recently undertaken by Comber Consultants as part of the redevelopment of Parramatta Square has tentatively found the area may have been used as a gathering place for at least some 5,000 years. Such discoveries prompt a reassessment of the nature and experience of early interactions between settlers and Aboriginal peoples.
This gathering place likewise witnessed the “Battle of Parramatta” in 1797, when a hundred Aboriginal warriors led by Pemulwuy arrived in formation down George Street. They were fighting against the many injustices inflicted upon them by the new arrivals. Pemulwuy would be shot, his warriors dispersed.
A rich history
The City of Parramatta commissioned us in 2017 to offer an account of Parramatta’s many “waves of migration”, a project inspired by this revived notion of Parramatta as a gathering place. We found that not all the convicts who first settled here were European. Africans and Indians were among the first convicts.
The different nationalities caught up in the convict system reflected a number of diverse political struggles being fought at the time of European arrival in Sydney. Political activists from around the world included the Scottish “martyrs” of 1794 and 1795, Irish rebels of 1798 and 1803, trade unionists and insurrectionists from Canada, military prisoners from India and rebellious slaves from the West Indies.
In the early years of Parramatta’s settlement there are records of the presence of various Maori, Afro-Americans, Indian, Chinese, Maltese and others. There is a long association in Parramatta with Maori connecting to the colony through trade, shipping, whaling and missionary activity.
Parramatta was also central, we found, to the story of Australia’s embrace of immigration after the second world war. The formation of a federal department for immigration after the war, and massive growth of European migration from the late 1940s through the 1960s, would alter the fabric of Australian life in decisive ways.
Parramatta, where experiments in European food production were first tried and tested, is also where our early experiments in migrant support took place. It was here that many new arrivals from war-torn Europe first settled. An American naval base hospital, established in Granville Park in 1942, was used after 1945 as one of the first hostels for migrants. Other migrant hostels were located in nearby Ermington, Dundas and Villawood to accommodate displaced persons and recent migrants.
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/229560/original/file-20180727-106499-3zqqsw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=1000&amp;fit=clip"><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/229560/original/file-20180727-106499-3zqqsw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&amp;q=45&amp;auto=format&amp;w=754&amp;fit=clip" alt=""></a>
The US naval base hospital in Granville Park was used to house migrants after 1945. <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/holroydlibrary/3382868089/in/photolist-6a1gFb-69W5Wx-69W5PT/" target="_blank">Holroyd City Library/Flickr</a>, <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/" target="_blank">CC BY</a>
We saw that over the 20th century processes of “chain migration” would shape Parramatta fundamentally. Chain migration – the term used to describe how migrants follow others from their town to a new host destination – was most strongly practised by Lebanese and Greek communities.
We learned of the significance of two women from the Lebanese village of Kfarsghab, Rosie Broheen and Zahra Youssef Assad Rizk, who were among the first to have settled in Parramatta, after arriving in Australia in the late 1890s. Since their arrival, families from the Kfarsghab village continued to migrate to Parramatta, a process that intensified as part of the post-war wave of migration to Sydney. Chain migration was actively supported by Australian migration policy at this time, which placed strong emphasis on family reunion.
By 2008, an estimated 10,000 people in Parramatta could trace their ancestry to the village of Kfarsghab. Indeed, the importance of Parramatta to this community was commemorated when the main street of the village in Lebanon was renamed Parramatta Road. Another Lebanese village of importance to Parramatta is the Maronite village of Hadchit in northern Lebanon. There are now about 500 Hadchiti households in areas such as Westmead and Harris Park.
We found great gaps in knowledge about the continued presence of Aboriginal people after the initial years of contact (gaps that are beginning to be filled). One woman we spoke to said she was sick of hearing about “her culture” being thousands of years old while not being listened to in the present.
And so, while we did gather together diverse stories of migration and movement in and around Parramatta – sometimes free movements, some under adverse circumstances – what was ever-present was the invisibility of lives not previously deemed of any real importance to the evolving story of Parramatta and its role in accommodating different ideas about Australia’s place in the world.
Keeping place
In commissioning our research, the City of Parramatta Council has sought to fill some of the gaps in its historical knowledge of migration impacts on the city. It plans to acknowledge and celebrate these many experiences – of both gathering and dispersal – through interpretive artworks within new developments like Parramatta Square. There are hopes for a “Keeping Place” that acknowledges stories of Indigenous lives, including their dispossession.
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/100652/count.gif?distributor=republish-lightbox-basic" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1">Through ongoing practices of interpretation, documentation and story-telling, as well as continuing dialogue about the most appropriate future uses of significant historical sites such as Parramatta Park and the Parramatta Female Factory, we hope Australia’s next great city can also be a place where new cultural imaginaries of place can be celebrated. Looking beyond the exaggerated localism of much local history and the “foundational narrative” of colonial beginnings, Parramatta is a place where many different versions of becoming Australian can be cultivated and explored.
Sarah Barns, Engaged Research Fellow, Institute for Culture and Society, Western Sydney University 
Phillip Mar, Research Associate in Cultural and Social Research, Western Sydney University
This piece is republished with permission from <a href="https://griffithreview.com/editions/who-we-are/" target="_blank">Who We Are</a>, the 61st edition of Griffith Review, via <a href="http://theconversation.com" target="_blank">The Conversation</a>. 
</body></html>

Reimagining Parramatta: a place to discover Australia's many stories

<html><body>
A former naval site on the Sydney Harbour has been unveiled to the public, after being out of bounds for 150 years to Sydneysiders.
The Sydney Harbour Federation Trust has launched a national campaign aimed at opening up the former HMAS Platypus site — part of Australia’s maritime history — to the public and re-launching the site as Sub Base Platypus. 
The former submarine workshops will be revitalised to provide terraces, streets, squares and gardens for public by the waterfront, along with retail spaces such as cafes and shops.
The Harbour Trust, which looks after historical sites on the Sydney Harbour, has called for expressions of interest to turn the 1.8 hectare site into a cultural, community and commercial hub, according to a media release. The campaign closes on October 31.
Parts of the site will be opened to the public from mid 2018, with the bulk of the work on the buildings expected to proceed over the next two years. 
While unveiling the campaign, the Federal MP for North Sydney, Trent Zimmerman, said he was pleased to see one of the Harbour’s most important historical and industrial locations opened up to the public after 150 years. 
“Under its legislation, the Harbour Trust has a responsibility to ensure the site is opened up to the public and to contribute to its further protection, which is why the Government is happy to support this call for cultural, community and commercial groups to become part of the Sub Base Platypus story,”  Zimmermann said. 
The Chair of the Harbour Trust’s Board, Kevin McCann, said the while the industrial heritage values of the buildings will be retained, the buildings and public spaces will be adapted for the public recreation and the revenue raised would be invested back into the parklands.
The site has a lettable area of 12,000 sqm with spaces available ranging from 35 sqm through to the Torpedo factory, at 6,630 sqm. 
The Torpedo Factory is the largest building on site with three floors. At the height of the wartime production, the factory employed 200 civilian workers.
“Once completed, we will see Sub Base Platypus become a special destination for Sydneysiders and visitors alike, providing a range of facilities and venues for cultural performances, function areas, cafes and restaurants, as well as offices and commercial spaces,” said chief executive of the Harbour Trust, Mary Darwell. 
The site is Cammeraygal Country and was once a gasworks providing gas for street lights, homes and businesses on the North Shore of Sydney. As part of the war effort, the site was resumed by the Commonwealth Government in 1942 and became a torpedo manufacturing and maintenance factory as well as a service facility for the naval vessels of the Pacific Fleet. 
In 1967 the site was commissioned as the base for the Royal Australian Navy’s Oberon-class submarines and was named HMAS Platypus. The submarine base was closed in 1998 and the asset was transferred to the Harbour Trust in 2005.
</body></html>

jonathanchancellor-7SQnKwU6yx

Former naval site at Sydney Harbour to be redeveloped as public spaces

<html><body>
Port Arthur Villas, a set of self-contained getaway units near Hobart, has recently sold for an undisclosed sum.
The freehold property, located opposite the Port Arthur Historic Site, went to the market with price expectations of $1,45 million.
The <a href="https://www.realcommercial.com.au/property-hotel+leisure-tas-port+arthur-5337846" target="_blank">complex</a> includes a residence, reception and laundry building, nine four star units in three separate blocks, tractor shed, barbecue shelter and surplus development land all set amongst landscaped gardens and lawn on 1.2 hectares.
The target price was split as $450,000 for the residence and $1,000,000 for the nine units. It last traded for $300,000 in 2006, according to RP Data.
The property was built from 1987 to 1989 and the units were upgraded in 2006 for more than $100,000. They have a private sewerage system, town water, plus a large dam fed by a running creek.
The residence spans two-storeys and has three bedrooms and a private courtyard.
The property is only a five-minute walk to the historic site. Previous DA approval was received for adding six more villa units.
World heritage-listed Port Arthur Historic Site is among the most significant convict era sites in Australia and worldwide. Port Arthur attracts more than 250,000 visitors a year.
The vendor wanted to sell as he is retiring.
The selling agent was Knight Frank's John Blacklow.
<img src="/images/2016/11/21/PortArthur1.png" alt="">
</body></html>

Historic Site

Editor's Picks

Have something to contribute?

Developments

New apartments

New townhouses

News

Historic Site

Editor's Picks

Receive the latest news stories to your inbox

Have something to contribute?

Developments

New apartments

New townhouses

News