Talking heads

“Should the Cahill Expressway be demolished or protected for its heritage value'”

MICHAEL GORMLY
I’ll never forget the thrill when an uncle took a very young me on an outing to ascend the first AMP building, then Sydney’s tallest.
The thrill came less from the building than from the train journey, first darkly underground and then miraculously emerging ‘airborne’ at Circular Quay. I have loved railways and big cities ever since.
I love the Cahill Expressway for different reasons. Its classic viaduct form sweeps around from the Bridge, bringing the Art Deco aesthetic of Sydney’s premiere icon into the city itself.
Its soaring fluted steel stanchions bring the inter-war, hand-riveted technology of the Bridge to eye level ‘ the same riveting we see in awnings along our mainstreet shopping strips. Their heritage value is well documented ‘ why not the Cahill’s’
It looks great from across the harbour, too, with the walled railway station balanced dead-centre in the quay, announcing itself in deco letter-spaced gothic capitals.
Love it or hate it, it’s also useful. It carries traffic, trains, pedestrians and cyclists from the Bridge to the city’s north and east very efficiently. Where would you otherwise put them all’ At what cost to this AAA-impoverished state’ And those suffering Sydney’s renovation disease seem to ignore that construction is exceedingly filthy, noisy and polluting.
The Cahill’s arches provide shelter and house toilets, kiosks and restaurants (which, yes, need an adaptive makeover).
It provides awesome and accessible views of the Opera House, the Bridge and the Ferries that would be lost if it was demolished.
The argument that it cuts off the city from the foreshore is flawed. Most buildings soar way above it now, so it obstructs little. And dogmatic deference to “open space” ignores that, with virtually all street life banned in Sydney, these spaces become nothing more than deadzones to walk across hurriedly, too hot in summer, too wet in the rain and almost always suffering a wind-tunnel effect. People do not gather and socialise in Sydney’s squares.
What would we replace it with’ The one concept I have seen shows a horrific neo-modernist bus-shelter thing. Pah-lease.
Michael Gormly, writer, photographer and publisher of kingscrosstimes.blogspot.com

ANDREW WOODHOUSE
How many heritage buffs does it take to change a light globe’ Five: one to hold the ladder, one to hold the new globe, one to change the globe ‘ and two to mourn the passing of the old globe!
Heritage is about one thing: Significance. It’s a measure of our attachment to significant bits and pieces. It recognises what we want to keep from our past for our future including the 60,000 year-old Aboriginal culture; historical events like the 1788 landing at Circular Quay; architecture like Tresco, Elizabeth Bay, now under threat. Even materials like the Sydney Harbour Bridge’s six million hand-driven rivets are heritage treasures. It can be anything from the black stump to Ned Kelly’s mask.
Heritage is priceless, timeless and classless. Heritage never ends.
But it’s not an aesthetic or a look, and it’s not sipping tea and nibbling scones at Vaucluse House. Sometimes something that’s old is just that and nothing more.
The Cahill Expressway fits neatly into this category. This old expressway has as much heritage and usefulness as my broken biro.
Variously described as “ridiculous”, “ugly”, “unsightly” and a “monstrosity”, Premier Cahill cut the opening ribbon on March 24, 1958 trumpeting it as “a striking symbol of Sydney’s growth and maturity and a monument to the skill and industry of the people”. Yawn.
It entombs Governor Phillip’s 1788 first fleet landing place, alienates Customs House from its original water setting, and scars the face of Circular Quay.
Whelan The Wrecker would win a community service award if his ball and chain swung over this piece of concrete cancer bringing it crashing down. I’d even shout drinks at the after-party.
Demolition costs can be offset by increased tourists numbers and retail rents flowing into government coffers. Asinine claims that the money could be better spent on hospitals are based on a false premise that this government can actually manage our money. Last week’s mini-budget proves me right: I certainly don’t Rees et al with my loose change.
Take a stand against bland, I say, and bring this expressway to nowhere, down.
Andrew Woodhouse is an urban environmentalist living in Potts Point