Things were pretty grim
for many people in the UK at the beginning of the 1970s, which was perhaps the
reason so many of my friends left. They went to Australia where, according to
reports filtering back, the living was easy. Brits, especially, were welcomed
with open arms (presumably so as to facilitate the Australian sport of
Pommie-bashing, although my friends must have held their own, since none of
them ever returned). I visit them from time to time and am due to go again
later this year, which is why I have taken more interest lately in things
antipodean. For example, we dined last week in a Hoxton restaurant owned by an
Australian chef who invited us to bring our own bottles of wine (thereby making
our dinner almost affordable). It reminded me that the first time I had
encountered this practice was in Sydney circa 1980 where ‘BYOG’ inscribed on a
restaurant door was explained to me as an acronym for Bring Your Own Grog. Good
on yer, chef!
Whilst in London I went
to an exhibition on the work of Ove
Arup, the Danish-born, one-time philosophy student turned world-famous
engineer/architect whose iconic early work, the penguin pool at London zoo, was
soon overshadowed by much grander projects. The one in which I was particularly
interested, of course, was the Sydney Opera House. Designed by another Dane,
Jorn Utzon, apparently without much practical detail concerning realisation, it
was Ove Arup and his team who eventually figured out how to build it. The
complexity of the curved structures was such that, for the first time in
architecture, a computer was employed to work out the mathematics of the
structural integrity: otherwise they would still be at it with slide-rules. The
Opera House turned out beautifully, despite running over budget, but I have
suspicions as to the originality of its design: here is a photo of the
Manchester’s Oxford Road railway station, built in 1960. Jorn and Ove might
have saved themselves a lot of work had they spoken to its creators.
I also went to see the
exhibition You Say You Want a Revolution? in
which architecture of another kind was featured – the geodesic dome, as
popularised by Buckminster Fuller. It was part of the 1960s counter-culture
that flourished in America where, at the forefront of the early eco-warrior
movement, people established communes upon the ideals of self-sufficiency and
sustainability. By now the movement should have swept the world, such is the
irrefutable logic of not destroying our planet, yet it’s astonishing – and not
a little depressing – how easily it was steamrollered by neo-liberal capitalism,
leaving just a few diehard idealists clinging on in the backwoods. It is, then,
perhaps a coincidence of timing that the film Captain Fantastic has just been released: its protagonist is just
such a diehard and those of us who regret our own pathetic capitulation to
capitalism can’t help but cheer him on in his determined struggle against the military-industrial
complex.
Somebody suggested I
might need a visa to visit Australia. It seemed unlikely - I mean, it is some
sort of colony isn’t it? But it has been 15 years since I last went and much
has changed since, particularly in respect of the migration of populations, so
I went online to check. Sure enough, there is no longer a fast-lane for Brits.
The good old days are over: now we have to queue up with the rest of humanity
to make a case for a brief visit to see old friends – blood relatives even – in
case we might hide behind a billabong tree to avoid the flight home. What they
don’t realise is, it’s not that bad here: things have brightened up since the
1970s. Anyway, I received an email acknowledging receipt of my application some
days ago, but still no visa. Did someone tell them that I went to that Revolution exhibition?
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