Wanganui

The Panoramic Photographer

Panorama of Wanganui N.Z. from Durie Hill, 1923 (2004.25)

Panorama of Wanganui N.Z. from Durie Hill, 1923 (2004.25)

The Panoramic Photographer – R P Moore Studio

From 1923 until 1931 the R P Moore studio operated from 80 Manners Street in Wellington and specialised in commissioned panoramic views of up to 200 degrees. R P Moore was, first and foremost, a commercial photographer. His undoubted success in business was not only the result of his ability to sell, but also due to the quality of the product. Sixty to seventy years later, many of his prints hang, still treasured, in the institutions, businesses and houses for which they were made.

The studio’s photographers traversed New Zealand on commissions from the Government Tourist Department. Before travelling to specific areas, they contacted the more established local firms, institutions and individual property owners, making their services known and thus securing further commissions.

Reception to Their Royal Highnesses, the Duke & Duchess of York, Wanganui, New Zealand, 1927 (1802.1611)

Reception to Their Royal Highnesses, the Duke & Duchess of York, Wanganui, New Zealand, 1927 (1802.1611)

The Camera and Negatives

The camera used by the Moore photographers was the most technologically superior available, the No. 10 Cirkut camera made by Graflex Inc., New York. By means of a clockwork motor, the camera traversed a circular track that gave a range of up to 360 degrees (although the Moore studio rarely exceeded 200 degrees). As the camera moved from one side to the other, taking up to a minute, the mechanism simultaneously unrolled the film, each exposure being the full height of the negative but only about 8mm wide. The photographer could only determine the direction and scope of the camera’s path. There was no viewfinder and the required exposure had to be guessed. The equipment included a tripod that could be extended up to almost five metres and which came with its own ladder.

The negatives, averaging a metre in width, generated seamless images of great clarity.  Because the extent of these views replicated the act of looking, the panorama prints were very saleable objects

Wanganui Swankers’ Club “Help the Blind” Appeal, 1923 (1802.4163)

Wanganui Swankers’ Club “Help the Blind” Appeal, 1923 (1802.4163)

R P Moore

Robert Percy Moore was born in Christchurch in 1881. Almost nothing is known of his early life, but he seems to have begun his photographic career in Australia. During World War I he was working in Queensland specialising in postcard views.

His earliest-known panoramas date from around 1919 when he had a studio in Sydney.  After eight years in Wellington from 1923 to 1931, he returned to Australia. He was back in New Zealand by 1936, because, from that year until 1941, he was based in Rotorua working in partnership with James Thompson at the Panora Studio. In 1941 he returned to Australia, and he died in Sydney seven years later.

Virgin Bush, Bushy Park Estate, Kai Iwi, 1923 (2006.37.1)

Virgin Bush, Bushy Park Estate, Kai Iwi, 1923 (2006.37.1)

The Panorama

We are so used to having pictures of landscapes around us it is hard to realise that such representations have been around for only the last 400 years. Until then landscape was used only as a background to stories about gods and goddesses or Christian stories. Pictures of landscape alone originated in 16th century Holland. The actual word “landscape”, as Simon Schama says in his recent book Landscape and Memory, “entered the English language, along with herring and bleached linen, as a Dutch import at the end of the sixteenth century.” Our experience of the landscape is of a big space, and consequently, over the past 400 years, landscape pictures have tried to get past the confines of the frame. It is the difference between looking at a view through a window and standing outside looking at the view.

By the beginning of the 18th century this had developed into a type of landscape picture known as “the view”. The aim was to show an actual place, in a way that created a sense of being there, by suggesting light and space. As the 18th century progressed “the view” picture developed into the panorama. This wider view had several origins. For instance, some of the earliest English examples were made by surveyors, and this practical charting of a real landscape is still part of the urge to make panoramas.

Panorama of Wanganui from Fire Brigade Tower on Bastia Hill, 1923 (1997.93)

Panorama of Wanganui from Fire Brigade Tower on Bastia Hill, 1923 (1997.93)

The panorama form developed further in the 19th century and became increasingly “photographic”. Although the processes of photography were not publicly announced until 1839, the earliest of them were discovered in the mid-1820s, and the first photographers automatically imitated the picture-making of the contemporary painters. From that time the panorama featured strongly in the history of photography right through to the end of the 1920s, and the work of the R P Moore studio represents a pinnacle of its achievement.  Since the mid-1980s, with a resurgence of interest in 19th century photographic forms and processes, the panorama has experienced a real revival.

By Peter Ireland

Peter Ireland is an artist and an independent curator with a special interest in photography

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Bob Cade’s Sword

Bob Cade's sword II

Museum volunteer Mick, collection manager Trish Nugent-Lyne and I were deep beneath the museum, surrounded by guns and pointy things in the armoury. This is Mick’s second stint as a volunteer and he’s working on edged weapons.  “Anything with a sharp edge … cuts people up, that sort of thing,” he says. Mick likes to get graphic.

We were looking at a sword that once belonged to John Robert Cade, a Wanganui man who fought in WW1.  “It’s an 1897 pattern, British sword, which was a general issue to officers in the infantry regiments,” says Mick. “This particular one has the cipher of Edward VII … which means it was after 1901. They still issue them today; not for killing people anymore because they’re not very effective against machine guns or missiles, but purely as decoration on the uniform.”

The Whanganui Regional Museum holds his war diaries, trench maps, officer’s notes and photos as well as his sword, all items donated by his wife in 1975.

A little bit about the sword’s original owner:

Mr Cade – known as Bob – joined the army in 1900 as a Territorial in Pahiatua. He came to Wanganui in 1902 and joined the Wanganui Guards. He was employed by the Public Works Department as a draughtsman but continued in the military part-time after completing his war service. He held the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel when he retired from the Territorials in 1933.  He married Ada Maud Dickson at St Paul’s church in Wanganui on June 28, 1911 and a baby boy was born on September 1, 1912. They called him Thomas. A daughter was born later.

Mr Cade’s war started in 1916 when he left New Zealand as a Captain. On August 23, 1918 he was granted the temporary rank of Major and that same year he was mentioned in dispatches by Field Marshall Douglas Haig. He was awarded the Military Cross “for conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty in the field”.

In 1919 Mr Cade was stationed in Germany and on January 17 he dined with the Prince of Wales – the man who would later become Edward VIII. The memory of this occasion is preserved in Cade’s diary, as well as a diagram showing the place settings. At the table there was a Major Richardson, Lord Claud Hamilton, Captain Riddiford, General Johnston, Viscount Broome, Lieutenant-Colonel Wilson and others. Major Cade describes how he was introduced to the Prince by General Russell. He mentions that he bumped into the Prince again the following day and they had a brief conversation.

At the close of WW1 he was absorbed into the 7th Wellington Regiment with the full rank of Major.  He died in Wanganui in 1962.

This sword was presented to Lieutenant Cade by the Wanganui Guards in 1906. It is stamped with the name Hobson and Sons, but Mick says that could be the name of the retailer of uniforms and accoutrements, rather than the maker.

Bob Cade's sword IThe sword and scabbard are designed to be worn by the officer with his dress uniform, but it looked to me like it would be a serious inconvenience. Edges have been rounded and curled to prevent snagging and wear on the uniform; there’s an odd ‘guitar-shaped’ piece of steel added to the sharp end of the scabbard – it’s called a ‘drag’ and is there to take the wear of the sword scraping on the ground. You would not want to be a small man wearing a sword, unless they made short swords for the ducks-disease afflicted.

Trish pointed out that the swords were a type of men’s jewellery, worn purely for show.  “The higher the rank, the fancier the sword,” says Mick.

Mick was born in 1942, suffering the bombs and bullets of Adolf in his home town of Guildford in Surrey. His interest in things military therefore stems from his childhood in the blackout. He says he saw his father for the first time when he was four years old. His dad had finally returned from the Africa campaign in 1946.

Mick’s been in New Zealand since 1962 when he joined the Hawera Star in the printing department. While there he started as a volunteer firefighter. After six years in printing he took up the calling and became a full time firefighter, serving in Hawera, New Plymouth and Wanganui.  He’s still in the job, but leaves the firefighting to the younger chaps. He’s Brigade Secretary and also works as trauma counsellor.

Mick says he chose the sword because of its local interest and there may still be Wanganui people who remember Bob Cade or his family.  The diaries and stories of what he went through in WW1 made it all especially interesting.

 

Original article appeared in the Wanganui Midweek in July 2010.  Reproduced with permission from the Publishers.

My Dearest Mag…

As World War I centenary celebrations are carried out, we remember the people involved; those at the front and those at home, and sometimes the romantic links between them.

The Whanganui Regional Museum was recently donated a letter written by Duncan “Mack” MacKinnon, to his sweetheart Mag (Margaret) Wilson, of Whanganui.  Mack served in the Navy and wrote this letter while in port on 25th May 1918.  He writes that he loves her and wishes he could be with her, but also has an interesting photographic request and some keen observations on the local ladies.  The original letter had very little punctuation with only four full-stops over all three pages, so it has been added to the transcription.

Read on…

2014.61.8 address

H.M. “Flying Foam”

C/o G.P.O. London

28th May 1918

 My Dearest Mag,

Just a few lines in answer to your welcome letter, which I received just before we came away from our base. I mean the one with the little photo in it.  Is very like you dear, but my word why didn’t you smile instead of looking so serious? But I wouldn’t have minded it for anything Mag dear! You can depend I will look well after it but of course, greedy like I am, waiting until the other one comes. Of course I had to have another look in the envelope to see if you had sent my mascot but no such luck, unless it is on the road now. Now you be a little sport & send the lot if you have not already done so. Wish I was only there to take it myself. My word, I bet you would make a fuss! Of course we would have to wait until we had the house to ourselves as I think that would be rather a dangerous job under our old tree or round by the lake, what say you dearest? But I think I would risk it no matter where it was. I have your photo in front of me now & I fancy I can see you laugh as I write this.

2014.61.8 little sport

I am rather amused about what you tell me about Schniede, Mag dear.  But strange, Mag, I always thought to myself that he would never so any good, & the way he was carrying on things like that leak out & soon quite a lot of people get to know about it on the quick, & you know what like a place Wanganui is for gossip. I got to know quite a lot of things, & about people, with knowing Jim Barry. Of course, they make that their business.

2014.61.8 photograph

The picture at the top of this is the entrance to where our base is, although you can’t see the wharfs. We always lie off this pier you see in the picture. A little further out than those little sailing boats you see a little further round is a another pier, although you can’t see it, reserved for ladies if you please for bathing. I often watch them with the glasses when we are in, bobbing up & down & cutting all the capers imaginable. Some of them have got a nasty habit of keeping their behinds well out of the water, especially those built like Mrs McIntyre! Dinkum, if you were only close enough you could smack them with a stick. I don’t think any of them have got any mascots, at least I can’t see any with the glasses but it’s great sport watching them. Of course, if they only knew any one was spying on them there would be a general clear out. I wish you were only among the lot Mag dear, I would soon spot you & then chaff the life out of you afterwards about it.

Well dear, since we came round to this new base we have had hardly any time to ourselves, we have been kept that busy. But I wouldn’t mind that if I could see the end of it in sight & I was on my way back again. I know it will be a great relief.

My 2nd is going to bring his wife over here next month. He belongs to Bristol & has four of a family – three girls & a boy. The girls are all well up & quite able to look after the house while the mother is away.

Well, Mag dearest, news is about as scarce as hens’ teeth until I get your letters so will have to close with kind regards to all, & with lots of love & thousands of kisses from one who loves you dearly.

2014.61.8 kisses

I remain your loving sweetheart,

Duncan MacKinnon

P.S. Have you been pinching any more bike pumps?

Mack

 

His charm and charisma worked on Mag and the couple were married when Mack returned to New Zealand in 1920.

Diorama leads to Masters

Diorama

Kyle Dalton’s first view of the museum’s diorama of the Rutland Stockade that once stood on Queen’s Park hill was a crucial moment.  He can, in fact, trace his lifelong interest in military history back to that time.
Part of that interest led him to learn about the Rutland Stockade itself; “At 60 by 30 metres it was the largest stockade in New Zealand,” he says.  “At the time it was built it was one of eight in the country and four of those were here [in Wanganui].”
Kyle arrived in Wanganui from Marton in 1997. He was a policeman and had, before that, transferred from Auckland to Marton in 1991. From 1994 he had been coming over to Wanganui as part of 5 Battalion, the next stage of his career.
“I left the police, started a couple of security businesses; bought and sold, bought and sold them and then joined the army in `94.  One day when I was over here I came in [to the museum] and saw the diorama.”
His curiosity piqued, Kyle visited Queens Park to see where it was. Of course there are no obvious signs of its former location but it got him interested.
The stockade stood for 40 years, dominating the town with more than just its rudimentary architecture. Building on it started in 1846 and finished in April 1847.
“Conveniently, the timber was supplied by the very Maori who later attacked it,” says Kyle. “They were paid £500 for it.”
So what was in the stockade?  “There was very little. There were the two main buildings of American design; that’s why they overhang. The diorama had capping on the fence but originally they were sharpened stakes.”
Sharpened – not because pointy wood deterred people from trying to climb over, but because a sharpened stake sheds water and inhibits premature rot: trivia courtesy of Kyle Dalton.
As a matter of interest, there are two lines of bricks in the path leading from the Queens Park car parking area that overlooks Ridgway St up to the cenotaph. In 2002 when the walkway was being installed, workers uncovered two old stockade fences; one in corrugated iron from when it was used as a prison, and one in wood from its days as a stockade. Those brick lines mark the locations where the fences still stand, rotting beneath the soil.

Rutland Stockade top centre, Atkinson's Hotel to left, Courthouse to right, Albion Hotel in centre; 1882-1883

Rutland Stockade top centre, Atkinson’s Hotel to left, Courthouse to right, Albion Hotel in centre; 1882-1883

When it was in use as a stockade, it was never used as living quarters.  “The officers had their own quarters where Andersons is now [on the corner of Victoria Ave and Ridgway St], which was next door to the military hospital. The soldiers would camp out in tents on the flat ground now adjacent to the Davis Library,” says Kyle.
The stockade would have been manned around the clock by a skeleton crew.  The bulk of the units left in 1869, with the final soldier leaving in 1870. By 1872 it was a prison, but the untreated timbered structure, by then 20 years old, was starting to show signs of age.  “Members of the town council wanted to preserve it. They saw it as a significant feature of Wanganui, but it came down to cost … the issue was raised as late as 1883 when a large part of it came down. It was taken down in stages,” says Kyle. By 1888 it was gone, with some of the wood ending up in the local Masonic Lodge as furniture.
That view of the diorama, produced by the museum’s exhibition people some time in the 1970s, has led Kyle through further education to the point where he is now studying for his Masters degree.  “An examination of the role of the military in the development of Wanganui,” is his subject. At the centre of it, though long gone physically, stands the Rutland Stockade.

Article original published in Wanganui Midweek on December 19, 2012; reproduced with permission.