Saturday, November 6, 2010

The death of Mrs Mareo


I went on a walk around the Waikumete Cemetery put on by the Friends of Waikumete last Saturday. I was asked by one of them why I was taking a lot of photographs (and answered, of course, that I was collecting stuff for a blog). One of the grave sites visited was that of Thelma Mareo, née Trott. You wouldn't know that by the gravestone, probably paid for by her mother after Thelma died of an overdose of veronal (and possibly also alcohol) in 1935. 

Veronal in those days was one of the early barbiturates, a "sleeping draught" as such medications were once termed. Around since the turn of the century, by 1935 the NZ Government recognised the danger of a depressant which could easily and lethally be misused, and so made it prescription-only, two weeks prior to Thelma Mareo's death. Her husband Eric, an out-of-work musician and composer who had worked at the St James Theatre, was using veronal, and stockpiled when it looked like casual supplies of the drug would be limited. Not a good move when your wife was a depressive.

She died from overdose, he went to trial (twice), was sentenced to death, later commuted, served 12 years, with more years beyond that on probation, and was finally clear of the legal system just before he died. The member of Friends of Waikumete who described the case last Saturday at the graveside said firmly that it couldn't have been suicide, that it had to be murder. (No one commits suicide with poison, I believe was whaat was said. I refuted that, by reminding those there of "Rough on Rats", a common method of suicide in the early years of last century. Further reading revealed that veronal, also, had been used in at least attempts at suicide before the Mareo case.) Eric Mareo's name wasn't even mentioned.

But a third option, on reading the online copy of the book The Trials of Eric Mareo (well worth a read) comes to mind. Thelma was a mother's girl, a depressive, "highly-strung" in the old parlance. Deeply fearful of ever being pregnant, she had a marriage of convenience with Mareo, more than anything else. Her love affair with Freda Stark was never truly outed during Mareo's trial -- to have done so, in the Crown's case, would have portrayed her as a sexual pervert in those times. Thelma drank, exhibited signs of depression, and perhaps took just a bit too much of both alcohol and the veronal in the days leading up to her death. Death by accidental overdose would be the third option, here.

When Freda Stark died, she was buried with Thelma, and her "L'Etoile D'or" plaque is on the grave site. The case that they are associated with, however, continues to fascinate.

Friday, November 5, 2010

End of Whale's Dairy



Back in 2001 when I was putting together Heart of the Whau, I took a photo of the 1920s dairy on St Georges Road here in Avondale. (I'm still looking for the colour original photo -- it was taken with a Kodak instamatic, my first ever camera.) The dairy's been through a number of name changes. From the book:
Originally built 1926-27 as the Whales Dairy, it became the Grosvenor c.1954 when the cinema also changed its name.It was known as O‘Brien‘s for a period during the 1980s and is now the Eftpos Dairy, after the “electronic-fund-transfer-at-point-of-sale” system of direct bankcard payment in the late 20th century to present.
Actually, it was known as both the Eftpos Dairy and Grosvenor Dairy (both names on the signs) right up until now. Now, of course, it no longer exists. These photos are from today.




Glad my mum isn't alive anymore. Her first job here in this country, arriving here as a woman looking after her mum and two sons on her own, was in that dairy in 1958. Then again, mum might just have put it down to changing times. That's what I'm doing. At the moment, I don't know what they're putting up in its place.

Overdoing the Square Edge, Palmerston North

Kiwi Nomad gave me the heads up on the repainting of Palmerston North's Square Edge building in her comment to my post on Repainting the Old -- with reference to Devonport's Victoria Theatre.

Take a look at the before ...


Kiwi Nomad wrote:
"We have a building here in Palmerston North -Square Edge- where a repainting job has maybe gone too far to the opposite extreme: it is very bright- all the facade details stand out- but there is no sense of context with surrounding buildings."
You're not kidding about the lack of sense of context, KN. That's just ... just ... words fail me, here. It's like a blue-and-red visual scream to me.

Monday, November 1, 2010

The illusive atmosphere of the Civic

Image from Wikipedia.
Another building with NZHPT Category 1 registration. Some history at the link.

Built in 1929, it's referred to as an "atmospheric" cinema. In America, these are called picture palaces. Whatever name you apply -- this is a building constructed with the intent of illusion.

Last Friday, I got the opportunity to join a tour led by George Farrant, Auckland City Council Heritage Manager, through three storeys of the interior of the building.

Behind the concrete lacework, George told us there were originally neon lights. They've had to be removed over time, and now the darkness seen through the lace isn't a cavity anymore, but a purple-painted backing.

The verandahs will shortly be in for a refit, due to ponding.

Anyway -- in we went.






Fragile elephant tusks.





Discrete disc-shaped sprinklers in the ceilings.








There's 54 horses, so George told us, and he made the original model once the restoration team realised the original horses had completed gone. So now, there's some of George's artwork in the place. He based them on draught horses.






Elephant-and-crocodile lamp.



Another reminder of George Farrant in this picture: the worried man at the edge in blue.





We were apparently quite lucky that this curtain was down during our tour. It isn't commonly seen, except for special screening performances.


One of the two lions. These days, their eyes are blue lights, occasionally twinkling. But I'm sure, when I used to see movies here, they were flashing red. Ah well ...

Each bit of the flamingo curtain, every leaf, had to be sewn individually. It shows much much went into it from the rear.


Behind the curtains ...


... and far, far above the stage.


This is part of the Civic's sky.

The control area for the sky.


Above, a view from the sky down to the stage. George wisely cautioned that we keep a firm hold on the cameras!


A stage light so finely balanced, it can be moved just with fingers.


The restored seating in the auditorioum.