VISION NEEDED IN CHRISTCHURCH.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18926, 23 November 1929, Page 27 (Supplement)

VISION NEEDED IN CHRISTCHURCH.

INEFFICIENCY PROVES DEAR PROPOSITION,

(Written for the “ Star ” by

E. J. Howard, M.P.).

Someone has sent me a book this week, printed in England, _ £ England, but containing a P-cture ■ f Sydney harbour bridge. 14 “warts everything else in the book, and 11 guarantee that those who are fortun Ite enough to receive a copy after reading it will have a clear memoryo one thing left in their minds and that wdl be the Sydney bridge. That is tiie art of advertising. Those who sent that picture probably had no idea in their minds of the effect, but there it is. It is “wonderful bridge. All future pictures of Sydney will contain this bridge. It will be the greatest advertisement that Australia could put upTo me Melbourne is a greater city than Sydney. But if you see a picture of Melbourne what does it contain. Just a street, usually Collins Street, with the usual kind of shops and their funny little cable cars. From an advertising point of view there is nothing to show for Melbourne. But the Sydney bridge! A bridge three-quarters of a mile long, the largest arch bridge in the world, and in two years time traffic will be crossing that bridge.

Publicity. Last year, or the year before, someone sent me a banking supplement of “The Times.” That paper runs special articles and concentrates on a particular feature. In this number it was “Banks of the Empire.” So w-e had pictures of these beautiful buildings where our monev is supposed to be housed. The Bank of New Zealand figured largely in that issue and one picture was of the central bank in Wellington. The photograper had evidently taken that picture on a Sunday morning early, thinking only of his picture because there wasn’t a human being to be seen. There were no motor-cars, and no life anywhere. Now a bank on a desert island would not be worth a penny postage stamp. • It is hot the fine buildings that make a successful bank, it is people—properous people. From an advertising point of view that picture was a dud. In Central Africa we were watching the mighty Zambesi River. Standing at the end of the trench or canyon, we were looking along that mile of perpendicular wall. Millions of tons of water were dropping down over the face of that 350 feet cliff. It seemed as if the world had split open and that the river was pouring into the centre of the earth. In a playful mood I mentioned our Avon when someone—l think it was Mr Ramsay Muir, passed me one of our publicity pamphlets showing our beautiful river with the photo of some little children paddling and one, apparently about two years old, standing, with her dress pulled up, right in the middle of the river. The Square. If our people would only consider the effect of the lay-out and furnishing of a city on visitors from a publicity point of view there would not be so many disagreements. I don’t know what was in the minds of the early pioneers in regard to our Square. I don’t believe there was anything particular in their minds about it. Like Topsy it just happened. As a fact it was for many years a public nuisance. It had an old wooden fence around the back part. It was a goat patch. It must be remembered that there is a street running right around the Square proper, so that the actual reserve is not very large. It was only when the Government of the past decided to take it for public offices that the people of those days w r oke up and discovered its possibilities. Now the Square is the heart of the city. Meet a Christchurch man, or woman, who through circumstances has been exiled from his native city and he will ask you about the Square. It is the drawing room ■where we meet all our friends. It is the rallying ground of the family. On New Year’s Eve we wander there naturally. It is where the family gather in friendship and love and goodfellowship. We watch our boys and girls let off squibs and crackers, and as we grow older and _a little more nervous we suggest that it ought to be stopped. In our heart of hearts we know that we did the same, that the little joy of flirting with the girls was ours fifty years ago. And we older boys and girls stand around the curb around the Cathedral and watch those lads and lassies, and think of the feet of those who have passed through the Square and on. No Squabbling. I’ll bet every Christchurch boy in the trenches during that time of madness, of a Saturday night would be thinking of the crowds in the Square. Why, the Square in the centre of the city is a holy place. But apart from that, apart from the feeling of affection that we all have for our family rallying place, the Square has an advertising value. If we send pictures home or publish them to the world to create an appetite to encourage visitors to come and see us, it is the Square that is the attraction. With the busy shops and picture shows, and the trams, and the motor-cars, and then the stately old Cathedral, with its silent message to the hurrying, scurrying crowd, why, it’s fine. Let us stop squabbling about the lay-out. Let us agree to put a structure in the Square that will top off, as it were, the picture. Cranmer Square and Latimer Square are fine pieces of open space, but as a fact they are only extensions of front yards of the houses that surround them, frorn the point of view of the average citizen who us_es them. Of course, we wouldn’t let them go. But compare them with Sydenham Park, for instance, of a Saturday afternoon. Durban’s Example. Years ago, and yet not so many years ago as time is counted, it was the lot of this writer to be on the Durban coast. Durban then was a miserable little smelly town, built partly on a swamp, mosquito-infested, and i f -s standard of living somewhat low. The harbour— of now—was a mud-flat with an entrance that a decent-sized ship wouldn’t run the risk of jumping over. Then someone had a vision of the possibilities. Others said. “ It cannot be done.” One old chap, especially, who wasn’t an engineer, said; “Yes, it can.” It took years to get Durban out of the doldrums. But she got a capful of wind, at last started to forge ahead, and to-dav she stands out as a progressive town built around the most up-to-date harbour in the world. But when you see a picture of Durban, it is the Town Hall in the square that is

featured. Durban has about half the white population of Christchurch. “ Skyscraper ” Minds. I venture to say that the Sydney bridge will be an inspiration to millions of the boys that are to be born. They will sec this great thing that has been done. They will want to do things, big things. It will be an urge to them to go on and make good. It will give them “ skyscraper ” minds rather, then, than the jazzy mind that makes boys content to just idle along, for want cf a vision, etc. Well, I had my vision. I saw the part we term the estuary surrounded by stores and factories; I saw the trains, the trams, the motor-cars, all bustling around that factory area. I saw the cheap concrete boxes being built by the chain floated around and filled with mud by electric pumps and forming wharves and underground storage for oil and coal and other produce. I saw great motor-ships passing in and out loaded by up-to-date machinery. I saw Canterbury become the workshop of New Zealand, because of splendid and cheap factory sites and her unlimited cheap electric power. Behind the great city were the plains providing the corn and the wool and the potatoes. I saw the land being rejuvenated by the aid of manures that we should manufacture from and by electricity. “And then,” someone will say, “ You woke up.” Not so, I admit the vision is not yet a fact, but it will be. Hole In The Hill. A story could be told of London and its docking system. llow it meandered for years and years., how the wealth of the world went up that old river in a leisurely fashion, how sugar from Jamaica was landed in dirty bags, was unloaded into dirty drays and hauled miles to the factories by tired horses; how shipping had to wait its turn to be docked, to be un loaded; how the standard of pay for waterside work was the lowest in the land, and that labour was the most inefficient. And then the London people woke up. The standard of everyone connected with shipping is higher today than ever it was in the history of the port. The standard of efficiency is higher than ever it was. They are spending millions on their port, and it pays. Inefficiency is a dear proposition. Makeshifts in men or machinery are uneconomic. Boring another hole through the hill may do the job. I wouldn’t hinder it being investigated. But it won’t put the factories and stores and sheds one mile closer to the >great city. Some day my vision will be realised.