Callan Park: The Kirkbride Experiment, a Microcosm of “Good Intentions”

Built Environment, Heritage & Conservation, Medical history, Public health,, Social History

Up from the water’s edge, the staggered hills, fields, woods, bush and scrubby vegetation, form the grounds that used to be known as Callan Park. On the pathway below, cyclists speed and joggers and walkers scurry along the popular Bay Run which skirts Sydney’s Iron Cove. Further up the undulating slopes of the park’s environs, the primary daytime activity seems to be the exercising of all manner of dog breeds by the local denizens.

Gardener's cottage The Gardener’s cottage

Callan Park is six kilometres west of the Sydney CBD, a broad area of some 61 hectares of largely park and woodland with scattered pockets of bush. If you stroll round its numerous, roughly concentric and hilly streets and walkways, you will find a very pleasant, tranquil parkland with an undulating landscape, gently sloping down till it reaches the foreshore of Iron Cove on the Parramatta River. The only residual sign of the presence of the area’s indigenous custodians, the Wangal clan (of the Eora tribe) who for thousands of years moved up and down its ridges and through its dense forests of Blackbutts and Ironbarks, are some traditional rock carvings out on the point of the Cove.

imageThe sense of tranquility that the visitor gets is joined by a second sense, that of a pervading air of abandonment. When I first explored the area with only a vague grasp of these old cottages and workshacks being somehow part of Callan Park, the disused, dilapidated buildings left me with the initial impression that I had stumbled onto some sort of industrial wasteland, much like you might encounter in Peter Carey’s early short stories, but with decrepit, crumbling, asbestos-ridden buildings replacing the decrepit, rusty dismantled cars of The Fat Man in History. So many of the old brick-and-stone buildings jotted across the land are in varying degrees of decay, some boarded up to prevent assault from vandals, for others it is too late – they are already showing the pockmarks of wilful destruction … countless broken windows and doors and graffiti everywhere. Almost all of the structures bear the familiar yellow-and-black warning sign “DANGER ASBESTOS” or more ambiguously, “MAY CONTAIN ASBESTOS”.

At least since the beginning of the 20th century it’s been an urban cliché in Sydney to hear the name “Callan Park” casually thrown around … people suspected of aberrant thoughts or exhibiting the slightest deviance from the norm would regularly be on the receiving end of a comment like “You should be in Callan Park!”. This often would be in a flippant tone but sometimes the intent was more threatening, or at least, definitely condemnatory. Such is the stigma of Callan Park’s long-held reputation as a place to dump the mentally ill.

The first significant European use of the land at Callan Park flowed from local land grants made by Governor Macquarie in 1819-20. Land speculators moved to try to acquire the smaller plots and consolidate them into larger estates. In the 1830s two men in the colony with influence and means led the way in this. At the southern end of the park Deputy Surveyor-General Samuel Perry acquired an estate known as Spring Cove (now in Leichhardt North) where he built an impressive mansion home he called Kalouan, around 1840-41.

Garryowen Garryowen

At more or less the same time, John Ryan Brenan, the colony’s Crown Solicitor and Police Magistrate, consolidated his holdings at the northern part of the land where he constructed an elegant Georgian stone home which he named Garryowen (the closest pub to Kirkbride, just over from the park in Darling Street, is named after this pioneer home). Brenan also acquired land near Perry’s estate and built a second, more palatial home called Broughton House. By the mid-1860s Brenan, facing bankruptcy, was forced to sell his properties and holdings. At this point any idea that the land might be used as an asylum hadn’t been contemplated. The new owner of the Garryowen Estate, businessman John Gordon, renamed the estate “Callan Park” with the idea of subdividing it to create a bayside suburb. Gordon’s plans were trumped by the NSW Colonial Government after colonial architect James Barnet persuaded Premier Henry Parkes to purchase the whole site for £12,500 in 1873.

The government was coming under community pressure to address the increasingly critical overcrowding in public asylums, especially in the main Sydney asylum at Tarban Creek (Gladesville). By 1876 Callan Park’s first in-patients were transferred into Brenan’s former homestead, Garryowen House from Darlinghurst. This was only a stopgap measure and Barnet together with the Medical Superintendent of Tarban Creek, Dr Frederick Manning, eventually convinced the government to seek a more permanent solution for the burgeoning numbers of the mentally ill. Barnet and Manning persuaded the Parkes Government as to the wisdom of building a brand new hospital. Both men wanted to create a more humane environment than that prevailing in the appalling, gloomy, prison-like conditions of Tarban Creek (which frankly wouldn’t have been hard, so parlous was the state of the Gladesville asylum!) A site was chosen, directly across from Garryowen, to construct a very large complex intended as a state-of-the-art psychiatric hospital providing a curative and therapeutic environment.

Kirkbride & Italianate Tower Kirkbride & it’s Italianate Tower

Between 1880 and early 1885 some 33 graceful sandstone buildings in the Victorian classical style were erected on a raised rock and earth platform and then enclosed within four sandstone perimeter walls. The complex was eventually named ‘Kirkbride‘ (often referred to as the Kirkbride Block) was named in honour of an influential American psychiatrist who advocated that pleasant surroundings for patients were conducive to “moral therapy”. The hospital’s first director of mental health, Dr F Norton Manning (also the NSW Inspector-General for the Insane), shared the prevailing moral therapy view of insanity as sinful, a character flaw that could be cured (or at least ameliorated) by preoccupation with work (outdoor gardening and trades for men and domestic service for women). If you coupled that with an attractive physical environment and religious instruction, this was the pathway to recovery, according to its advocates [S Garton, Medicine and Madness. A Social History of Insanity in NSW 1880-1940]

The Kirkbride complex, with its Free Classical style sandstone design, was the work of colonial architect James Barnet. It was the largest building project completed to that time in the colony (in fact the largest undertaken until the 20th century) at a then enormous cost of £250,000. Barnet collaborated with the hospital’s), whose designs for Kirkbride were based on the Chartham Downs institution in Kent. Kirkbride was designed with spacious, pavilion wards and sun-lit verandahs and connecting courtyards. To compliment the aesthetic virtues of Kirkbride, an attractive lawn setting and a tree-lined picturesque (sunken) garden was constructed below the block. The appealing garden and the spaciousness of the Hospital was meant to break down the effects of the patients’ natural feelings of confinement by affording them more scope for movement.

These grand, pleasure gardens were designed by Charles Moore, the Director of the National Botanic Gardens, with which they share some stylistic similarities. The gardens also contain something of a cross-cultural curio, a war memorial in the Spanish mission style [Graham Spindler, Uncovering Sydney, (1991)]. The eastern part of the park, near to Balmain Road, is lined with Port Jackson fig trees. At the northern end of Kirkbride, near where North Crescent circles round to become Central Avenue, are a couple of massive ancient Moreton Bay figs with the most amazing, gigantic root system.

image

Before taking up his post as Superintendent of Kirkbride Manning travelled overseas, researching the most modern methods of treating the insane. As well as creating the right aesthetic environment, his philosophy focused on the need to engage patients in meaningful work and recreational activities, such as growing their own produce and other farming pursuits (in this sense Manning was something of a harbinger in advocating the use of “occupational therapy”, a term and concept not in vogue until the 20th century) [Callan Park Conservation Management Plan, www. Leichhardt.nsw.gov.au.

Dr Manning also placed an emphasis on the quality of staffing, and played a key role in advancing the professional status of psychiatric nurses in Australian institutions. He insisted that nurses and attendants at Callan Park have proper training to be competent in working effectively in an asylum, and advocated that they be appropriately remunerated for their work.

'Clockless' Clock Tower & rear wallClockless’ Clock Tower & rear wall

A highlight of the architecture of the Kirkbride Block is the decorative Venetian “clock tower”(sans clock – it was never installed for some reason!). The tower is part of Kirkbride’s built-in reticulation system, on top of the tower is a tidal ball copper spire which indicates the water level of the underground reservoir below. Rainwater from the run-offs is collected in two underground tanks and pumped to the wards (one tank is reserved for any fire emergency). The surrounding walls of the complex employed a device called a “Ha-Ha” Wall. Barnet would have learned this from the work of 18th century English landscape architect ‘Capability’ Brown. A Ha-Ha Wall is where a steep ditch is dug along the inside of the wall to prevent patients scaling it, whilst at the same time retaining the exterior view (allowing patients views from their verandahs extending to the Blue Mountains)[“Rozelle Hospital Heritage Study” 1991 report (PDF), www.callanparkyourplan.com.au ; “Kirkbride Past & Present”, SCA, www.sydney.edu.au].

The 5.1HA block was designed to be entirely self-contained, with its own kitchens, separate dining halls, capacity for 666 patients (with an even 333 split for each gender) in the rooms and dormitories (male and female were segregated at opposite ends of the block with other sections in the middle). The complex also contained staff residences, bathhouses, laundries, bakery, workshop, lecture halls, library, chapel, morgue and administration block. To the south of the tower is a furnace stack which was used to generate steam required for the laundries.

imageManning’s successor as Inspector-General Eric Sinclair was also ahead of the game! He introduced more specialised (special admissions) wards, such as the Female Cottage Hospital, to treat curable cases through early intervention, and advocated to have treatment of mental disease put on a more scientific basis [Peter Reynolds and Ken Leong, “Callan Park Mental Hospital”, Dictionary of Sydney, 2008, http://dictionaryofsydney.org/entry/callan_park_mental_hospital, viewed 05 December 2015].

Sadly, over the course of the next century, Manning’s vision of an enlightened psychiatric hospital using modern scientific methods to care for those unfortunate enough to suffer from mental illness, floundered on a sea of inadequate government funding, staffing problems and chronic overcrowding, and until more recent times, met largely with public indifference. The overcrowding was a contributing factor in Kirkbride patient treatment becoming less rehabilitative in emphasis and more custodial as time went on.

Warsaw I: Treading the Tourist Trail with Pse

Travel

If you take a walking tour of Warsaw with friendly local legend Pse, it’s just like being there … and feeling like you are a local, such is the insight into the city he energetically imparts! More than a vicarious experience! I did three ‘Psexceptional’ walking tours in the four days we were in Warsawa – the “Old Town” tour, the “Food and Beer” tour & the “Communist Warsaw” tour. By the end not only did I have a palpable feel for the city, but I felt like I was almost an expert on Pse’s idiosyncratic mannerisms and speech patterns as well!

Rondo Chas. DeGaulle
🔺Rondo Chas. DeGaulle

Pse is a very enthusiastic guide, energised like a cache of long-life batteries..he is also very switched on and knowledgeable about all aspects of the city. Despite his not being a Varsovian by birth. I felt we were getting a real insider’s window into the city – warts and all, not just some glossy attempt to put a touristy spin on the place, portraying everything we saw as beautiful and wonderful as sometimes occurs with tour guides coasting through the motions. Pse packs a tremendous amount into his tours, full of informative snippets on the little idiosyncrasies and eccentricities of Warszawiacy, some good, some not so good. He had us on the go, a good pace but not rushed…continually showing us new things & places all through the two hours, not once did he slow down or stop to get a lody despite the fierce heat of the day!

The Food and Beer tour was probably my favourite (kind of a fast food pub crawl of the Soviet high-water mark of working class proletarian cuisine), going to various interesting little out-of-the-way cafés, fast food parlours and back lane bars. For a small charge (about 20 PLN) we sampled so many different types of piva – lagers, porters, pilsners, kozlaks, ales, American-style, Pekin-style, etc. plus culinary oddities such as the “John-Paul II” pączki (a donut of Papal proportions which I passed on!). One of the non-alcoholic beverage ‘highlights’ was the “wonderfully insipid” Oranzada (this sugary ‘treat’ was the soft drink of choice of the old Communist Party apparently). I enjoyed the visit to Soviet Warsaw’s first American-style milkbar (next door to the home of Poland’s double Noble laureate in Science, Madame Curie). We also got an informative commentary on the story behind the construction of the dynamic Warsaw Uprising monument.

Signifying an inexplicable, mysterious death
🔺Signifying an inexplicable, mysterious death

On the last night of the visit I did yet another fascinating tour with another guide (Pse must have been resting his larynx!) called “Warsaw Crime” which visited locations in the city with a secret criminal past – the site of assassinations and attempted assassinations of atheist presidents and “Black September” Middle East terrorists, weddings gone wrong, and an improbable plot to liquidate Hitler on the corner of Jerozolimskie and Nowy Swiat right at the start of the World War in 1939, etc.

Endnote: Bad food ThursdayApparently the last Thursday before Lent is the day Varsovians really let themselves go in so far as food discipline goes. Bakers and confectioners in the city go on a donut-baking frenzy known as “Fat Thursday(Tlusty Czwartek). The locals are given licence to indulge (or over-indulge) in calories-galore pastries of the pączek kind. The most popular is the Papal gastronomic delight known as kremówka (“cream cake”).

(Photo: America Magazine)

Vilnius III: “Little Rome” in a Northern Climate

Travel

Senamiestis church
Senamiestis church
Pilies Gatve is the street that bisects Vilnius’ Old Town. This old cobblestone road is full of footpath cafés and restaurants. Running off Pilies are numerous old alleyways and lanes, some of which lead to flower-filled courtyards. Also on Pilies are some large churches and a small square with the obligatory souvenir stalls. Actually Senamiestis and Vilnius in general seems to be full of churches, I previously mentioned Cathedral Square and its Basilica, of itself a masthead of Lietuvos orthodox spirituality. Not surprising then that one of the city’s sobriquets is “the city of churches” (another reflecting its staunch Catholicism is “Little Rome”).

In or off Pilies there are a number of old ecclesiastical buildings with a range of styles – Gothic, Renaissance, Neo-Byzantine and Neo-Classical. The standout Catholic ones include St Catherine’s & St Anne’s, the latter church Napoleon reputedly took a distinct shine to when he ‘visited’ (a statement attributed to him is that it enchanted him so much he wanted to take it back to Paris in the “palm of his hand”!). and the very large Orthodox Cathedral (Our Mother of God) on Maironio street. Given what a staunchly Catholic country Lithuania is, I was a little surprised a the large number of Russian Orthodox churches in Vilnius – clearly the former imperial ‘footprint’ of the Russian giant is still evident in the country.

Didžioji G. has two of the most impressive cathedrals in St Parasceve and St Casimir (the latter with its unusual, small, black crown dome). In front of the beautiful pastel-shaded St Parasceve are billboards with historic photos and stalls selling paintings. Looking at the Vilnius churches you discover a chequered history, there is a pattern of most of them burning down, being rebuilt in stone, being desecrated and misused, and finally being returned to their religious function. At the south end of the Old Town, in Aušros Vartu G. you can see the only remnant of the historic wall to survive, the 15th century city gate, the Gates of Dawn (Aušros vartai) with its decorated chapel and Medieval arch. Also in Aušros Vartu are gift shops selling the Baltic Sea mineral that Lithuanians refer to as their ‘gold’, amber (worth a look inside but quite pricey).

Vokiečiu Gatve
Vokiečiu Gatve
On the western side of Senamiestis is Vokiečiu G. or German street, with its long, grassy walkway and food kiosks down the middle. Once the main area for German inhabitants of Vilnius (hence the name!) but there remains very little sense of its ‘German-ness’ today. Further to the west in Naujamiestis (the New Town) there is more trace of German past occupancy of Vilnius in the shape of a German War Cemetery.

Similarly, nearby Pylimo G. was once home to Vilnius’ large Jewish community, which before WWII numbered around 100,000 (45 per cent of the city’s population). Vilna Jews are now reduced to a few thousand in total who are mostly quite aged. The Jewish Ghetto of the 1940s is memorialised only by one or two monuments and signs. The pattern of impressive Russian Orthodox churches continues on the western side of the Old City, of special note are the Church of Saints Michael and Constantine and the Church of the Apparition of the Holy Mother of God both with beautiful Neo-Byzantine cupolas, a must-see for church architecture aficionados.

Vilnius II – The Gediminas Legacy: Prospektas to Kalnas

Travel

Drama HQ Vilnius
Drama HQ Vilnius
Gediminas is a name that crops up quite a bit in Vilnius – the main street, the central castle and tower, restaurants, etc. Gediminas was the powerful ruler who consolidated the Grand Duchy of Lithuania in the early 14th century. Gediminas Prospektas, the city’s main avenue, runs from the north-west down to Cathedral Square & the Old City. The several previous names of Gediminas street (including Adolph Hitler Avenue) reflect ongoing periods of foreign rule (Polish, Nazi German, Soviet Russian). Gediminas Pr as befitting the major avenue in Vilnius contains most of the important buildings, the parliament, financial houses, international hotels, etc, as well as a busy “eat street” sector. Walking the length of Gediminas Avenue allows you to take in some of the Centras district’s most interesting sights. Foremost amongst these for me is the facade of the Lithuanian National Drama Theatre with its fantastic, striking sculpture of three dark-garbed ‘witches’ (they looked like witches to me(?), like something out of Macbeth) in dramatic pose.

V. Kudirkas Monument
V. Kudirkas Monument
Further up on the opposite side is Vincas Kudirkas Square (named after a famous Lithuanian writer), a pleasant, calming patch of greenery set back from the street enabling visitors a respite from all that shopping and sightseeing. A fine, modern, linear sculpture of Kudirkas takes centre stage in the eponymous Square.

Lietuvos Basilica & Bell tower
Lietuvos Basilica & Bell tower
The eastern end of Gediminas stops at the large Cathedral Square (Katedros aikštė) which contains several significant architectural structures. The first ones you come to are the early 15th century Vilnius Basilica and its bell tower. The basilica, the most salient Catholic structure in Lithuania, is very grand in scale with white columns and domed roof in the neoclassical style. Although it is impressive and worth a look inside, I was more intrigued by the accompanying bell tower several metres way from the facade entrance. Bell towers like this, 57m high and free-standing, are fairly unusual outside of Italy. I was immediately reminded of Pisa and the Leaning Tower. This bell tower of course lacks the unique feature that makes Pisa so world famous, it’s exaggeratedly angled bent. The Vilnius bell tower is not however 180 degrees straight up, so it was suggestive of some comparisons with Pisa! Sharing the Square with the cathedral is the Gediminas monument (a relatively recent addition), an imposing sculptural representation of the Lietuvos warrior-king, unmounted, atop a very solid block of granite. On the other side of the cathedral, in the park near the National Museum, there is yet another sculpture of Gediminas which differs in form and style from this one.

Anglijos Ducal Palace
Anglijos Ducal Palace
To the right of Vilnius Cathedral (almost backing on to it) is the white Palace of the Grand Dukes. The palace is an attractive and impressive reconstruction of the original medieval rūmai (Royal palace). The Ducal Palace was part of the old lower castle and had an integral historical connexion with Poland. During the era of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth it was the centre of political power for both Lithuanian grand dukes and Polish kings. Later, after its glory days, it fell on harder times – at one point being quasi-demolished, then occupied by the German Wehrmacht during WWII and by the Soviet Youth Organisation. The current palace building is now a museum. Unfortunately our tight schedule precluded a visit inside, we had been allocated enough time only to do either it or the upper castle (the castle tower).

Gediminas Tower
Gediminas Tower
The castle tower, to give its full official name, Gediminas Pilies Kalnas (that man again!) is raised up on a hilltop above Cathedral Square. One of the local guides explained that, owing to Lithuania being a pretty flat country, hills, like this one, are commonly described as ‘mountains’. This concept is reinforced linguistically, the Lietuvos word for ‘mountain’, kalnas, is the same word used to delineate a ‘hill’, ‘hill’ is synomous with ‘mountain’ hence the Kalnas in this case, in reality merely a mound-shaped hill, covers both ideas. There are two ways up Castle Hill: riding in a funicular transporter (for a fee), or slogging it by foot from the park below, climbing a curved ramp-way with lots of loose, rough stones on it. The ramp slope is a fair distance to walk, but it is staggered, so not too steep. At the top on the hill mound you can observe the residual bits and pieces of the original castle complex (old arsenal, garden, castle keep & the tower – not much else of the original survives). As with the tower, from the edge of the hilltop there are great views of the Neris River directly below, and of the city beyond.

The castle part (the lower castle) of this fortification is long gone leaving only the (upper) tower, which possibly explains why it is referred to officially in Lietuva as Gedimino pilies bokštas (Gediminas’s Castle Tower), a kind of compromise on the original entity – it is also known as Aukstutines Pilies Muziejus (Upper Castle Museum). The national flag (or variations of it) has been raised and lowered from the tower top at regular intervals over the last five centuries (reflecting Lithuania’s fluctuating fortunes at the hands of external aggressors – Russia, Poland, Soviet Union). Patriotic Lithuanians cherish the flag and the castle tower as the enduring symbol of independence and nationalism. Across from the tower on the mound is another remnant of the earlier fortification. The tower (as it survives) is not terribly spacious, and houses a small museum. Most visitor interest, once inside the building though, is in negotiating the 78 steps which allows you to survey commanding views all around Vilnius.

Bronze sculpture of Lithuanian hounds
Bronze sculpture of Lithuanian hounds
Below the modest ‘mountain’ of Gediminas Castle is a large, attractive park (Bernardine Gardens), a tranquil green space with fountains, statues, an alpinarium and ponds. Try to spot a very cute bronze sculpture of three Lietuvos hounds (Skalikas) on one of the pathways. These gardens, backing on to the slim Vilnelė River on the east side, are an ideal location to stroll through or recline in.