Last weekend I went to Queenstown for the 2012 Heritage and Arts Festival.
This year is the centenary of Tasmania's worst mine disaster. Forty two miners lost their lives when a pump house fire in the North Lyell copper mine filled the shafts with toxic carbon monoxide. More than fifty men were trapped a thousand feet underground for more than a hundred days before they could be rescued, and there are many tales of tragedy and heroism to be commemorated.
Crowd at the unveiling;
a typical Queenstown day. Why did I leave my umbrella at home?
|
Tim interviews members
of the Gadd family for the ABC
|
The only transport to
and from Queenstown in 1912 was by rail. Experts and rescue equipment,
including emergency breathing apparatus, were rushed from Strahan and
Burnie by train, some having first to come by steamship from Melbourne.
This weekend the West Coast Wilderness Railway was busy re-enacting
events and taking visitors to Rinadeena for Devonshire Tea.
On Friday morning the
train took a specially reconstructed funeral car to the cemetery for
a memorial service. This stone marks the mass grave of the forty two
miners who died.
On Friday evening
stallholders set up bain-maries under the wide verandahs in Orr St
and the huge marquee covering the street was packed with happy
diners. Later, after a very moving lantern parade down Orr St to the
station, bands performed.
The Hobart-based Grass Roots Trade Union Choir cheered everyone up with
an enthusiastic performance accompanied as required by piano
accordion, harmonica and guitar played by choir members and ending
with a good, rousing version of Solidarity
– The Union Makes Us Strong,
with the audience joining in the chorus.
There really wasn't
enough light to photograph the
Grass Roots Trade Union Choir, but I tried anyway. |
They
were followed by Alma de Vida, a Flamenco/jazz group, and I have been
told a very prominent politician was seen dancing with some of the
artists exhibiting in the festival. Of course, this is only hearsay
and should not under any circumstances be repeated.
Saturday evening was far more refined, with everyone getting all tarted up in their formal attire for the Festival Gala Evening at the Queenstown Memorial Hall. As an impoverished artist, I do not own formal attire and baulked at the ticket price so have to rely on the word of somebody who did attend and said it was great fun. There was an art auction, and one or two people sobered up next morning to find themselves owning a fine painting they hadn't intended buying. Not that I mind, one hastened to assure me – it's lovely. Just didn't mean to . . .
Saturday evening was far more refined, with everyone getting all tarted up in their formal attire for the Festival Gala Evening at the Queenstown Memorial Hall. As an impoverished artist, I do not own formal attire and baulked at the ticket price so have to rely on the word of somebody who did attend and said it was great fun. There was an art auction, and one or two people sobered up next morning to find themselves owning a fine painting they hadn't intended buying. Not that I mind, one hastened to assure me – it's lovely. Just didn't mean to . . .
Mt Lyell Heritage Centre |
There were extensive
exhibitions of historic photographs, at
the local library – sorry, Community Hub – more photographs, artefacts and movie footage at the railway
station, and art installations among the desks and mining memorabilia
at the Mt Lyell Heritage Centre and in the old West Coast District
Hospital.
Helicopter rides, underground mine tours and visits to
historic sites were on offer. Children of all ages enjoyed free
movies in the marvelous art deco Paragon Theatre and a student circus
while art-lovers crammed exhibition openings at LARQ (Landscape Art
Research Queenstown) and Art Frontier galleries. IHOS opera performed
in an old transport warehouse; folk singers performed at a sawmill,
books and a new Memorial Park project were launched, and so it went
on.
Things were beginning
to wind down by Sunday, but the street market still drew a crowd.
On Monday morning it
was all over. Queenstown reverted overnight to a sleepy, shabby, damp
mining town as the last of the artists, performers and visitors
packed up and went home. But, by golly, the little community put on a
damned good show! I'll be back.
You can find out about
some of the art I saw here:
http://www.writeresponse.blogspot.com.au/2012_10_14_archive.html.
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