Anyone guilty of the following needs to seriously re-assess themselves:

1. Having a southern cross tattooed anyway on their body, or are considering getting it done. ACTUALLY, anyone who has their last name tattooed on themselves (are you going to forget it?) or celtic armbands (you’re not a viking) are included in this disdain

and

2. Wearing any t-shirt with an asian city’s name on it (you know who you are), whilst at the same time being very unlikely to even be able to locate it on a map

That is all.

Hosier Lane, Melbourne (looking east towards Forum Theater)

Melbourne’s premier tourist attraction for graffiti always looks freakin’ sweet, as this photo will attest to. I always love passing through here when I can, and take any friends who have never been to Melb through here for a quick gander.

Pretty cliche!

Stony Creek Park, Yarraville (looking towards Port Melbourne)

This week’s streetscape is a photo I took at twilight, on the banks of  the Yarra:

There’s something very Midgar/Sector 7-ish about this particular spot of Yarraville. You can’t help but feel insignificant standing underneath something as huge and loud as the West Gate - yet it’s still incredibly peaceful. Theres no great thought to come out of this image – I just like it, and it was fun to take..

‘Cratepark’ is the name given to an ephemeral street art project which took place in Carlton’s Earl Street on the 28th of May 2009. The purpose of the project was to create positive public space in an area deficient of positive utility, in a manner which was ‘approachable’ by it’s intended audience. Essentially, Cratepark was aimed at encouraging new interaction within an established environment for as many people willing enough to interact with it!

Working within a display window of only two hours (ephemeral? I meant extremely ephemeral…), the project essentially took a hefty selection of milkcrates (a relatable medium for the university student audience – or at least it was hoped) and arranged these in a  ‘living room’ arrangement for people to interact with as they saw fit. Resplendent with a variety of ‘couch/seat’ type constructions, and even a central ‘coffee table’, Cratepark hoped to provide a medium for people to feel welcome and intrigued, and lounge about on each piece – thus fulfilling the objective of mediating people’s ability to interact with an urban environment in a newer, positive way whilst altering their peception of the immediate environment in a manner with which they weren’t typically accustomed.

One part inspired by classic aracade-gem Tetris, one part by the colorfulness of the Rubik’s cube; Cratepark profoundly threw back to the 80’s with each ‘furniture’ piece painted a different color, as a means of contrasting with the visual monotony of the urban environment.

The process

After drawing up a plan of tetris-block shapes as a means of constructing each lounge piece, the milkcrates were then steadily obtained under the cover of darkness over a series of consecutive nights from the local 7-11. Once the required amount was obtained (approximately 16 – not hard to do inconspicuosly, for the record!), they were arranged and undercoated using a standard wall primer (about $40 – and a lot of work using a brush. But I think this is the only way to paint a dirty milkcrate – spray at this stage just chipped straight off). Once dry, each piece was given approximately 2-4 sprays from every angle to obtain a strong, even and vibrant coverage.

(It’s worth noting that spraypainting milkcrates IS a monotonous, teedious task. I allowed about a week of probably part time spraying – but maybe I’m just shit at spraying. Plus, sprays for this project probably cost upwards of $200!! These definately had me questioning whether it was worth it, or if there was an easier way – but the end product spoke for itself.)

Getting one’s ephemeral on!

Transporting 16 noxious couriers-of-milk into the heart of Melbourne’s city is only possible through the assistance of one very understanding mate – to say the least. Not an easy task, that’s for sure. Regardless, the project was installed by 9.30a and left for display until approximately 11.30a. In that time, Cratepark managed to obtain a mixed-bag of reactions from the people who interacted with it.

Personal observations made from nearby were… exciting? (I had never done this type of thing before, so bear with me). Initially deserted and devoid of interaction, I began to think that perhaps Cratepark had missed the mark for a familiar medium and public space project. Were people thinking this was for visual appeal only? I had hoped not, and soon was rewarded when a trickling of people began to wander over and engage. The trickle soon turned to a stream, and Cratepark was in business.

Negative or positive, fully-engaged or dismissive – the reactions obtained from people were varied. Where some people and groups were prepared to interact with the arrangement fully, others were only willing to offer a verbal comment as they kept walking. The climax for me, however, came when each piece was eventually utilised by a variety of differering groups – each changing the arrangements and interacting with the pieces in whatever manner they were comfortable with, all the while engaging with a small patch of urban Melbourne in a manner which they never have before . These people were beginning to clearly perceive this particular urban environment in a context with which they were not usually accustomed, through the creation of positive public open space in areas deficient of any – the very purpose of Cratepark fulfilled.

Whilst the outcome of this particular street-art project is certainly not life changing, it did highlight for me the willingness of people to restart the cognitive process upon constructed environments in which they were already familiar. What implications did this have for urban planning? That would be a thought for another time. For the purposes of this project however, seeing the level of interaction was all the satisfaction I needed. Plus, it was fun!

For the future, I’m hoping to build upon this and get involved with PARKing day (18 September). Not only is it a similar means of applying new uses to familiar urban environments, it also highlights the impact of the car on urban space. Check it out at http://www.rebargroup.org/projects/parkingday/

As personal motivation to keep updating bpa, I’ll endeavour to bring you an interesting Melbourne streetscape every week! One part blatant rip-off of ‘4x Scope’ (see left), one part an exhibition of my personal photo collection - each streetscape will have a quick explanation of why I think it is interesting, and why you should too!

Union Lane, Melbourne (looking north towards Bourke Street Mall)

It makes sense to make the flagship streetscape pic the background to the current bpa header:

This street scape depicts a typical inner-city laneway. Like other laneways, the length of it is covered in graffiti. No big deal, you say? Probably right. However, what makes this streetscape interesting is that this is one of the few City of Melbourne legalised graffiti and street-art sites. As the responsible local government for one of the world’s richest graffiti and street-art settlements, City of Melbourne has only commisioned a handful of these sites. Go figure.

It could be expected that the purpose of COM in commissioning Union Lane is to enhance the area through the addition of graffiti (and expand the tourist appeal and subsequent dollar value of the CBD in this context too, no doubt). However, it is evident that the ‘planned’ and ‘legalised’ public artwork evident in this photo is not enough to make this particular urban area an example of positive open space – distinctly evident through the blaringly obvious lack of activity (photo headcount? 1. Time of day? Close to 2 pm.. Go figure again).

First hand evidence that it’s the people, not local governments, that make the space a place.

Fixie riding is a trend, but it’s a bloody good one! However, while the machine itself looks so simple, restoring one for yourself is anything but…

Fixed-gear biking is an inescapable phenomenon in Melbourne, particularly if you spend as much time in the inner city and at university as I do. Essentially, a fixed gear bicycle (fixie – for those who aren’t sure) is the kind of bike you had when you were a kid: pedal forward to go faster, pedal back to slow down. The mechanics are as simple as that. It is this sheer simplicity, as well as the customisable dimension to the bike itself, that I think makes them so appealing – even if every bloke and his dog is riding one…

As a budding professional dabbling in an area concerned with the future of this planet, the sustainability and innocence of  riding a bike is also a big tick. So it is with this outlook, and a thousand fixed-gear bikes darting around me daily, that I decided that it was time for me to have a crack at throwing together my own fixie (after all, everyones got one these days – right?).

Now a key aspect of riding a bike of this nature is the process and history that you create of getting a hold of one of the freakin’ things in the first place. If you wanted a stock standard bike, go to a stock standard store and fork over some stock standard money. Sure, you can also do the same and fork out 1200 for a fixie at a handful of boutiques in Flinders Lane (or you might even know someone who’s got a spare), but if you’re bone poor and know no-one whos got one to offload, chances are you’ll end up having to scrape one together through old fashioned hard work….

Put simply, this is no easy task. Even acquring a suitable second hand roadbike frame for a fixie is pretty challenging these days. Everyone seems to be intent on mountain biking on roads (makes sense, but lazy), with the good people willing to offload cheap road bikes seemingly disappearing alogether. I was at a loss as to where to begin, but as luck (and a stack of frothies) would have it, a mate of mine one night revealed that just a few doors down his street is a man who has a plethora of second hand bikes. Apparently, in situtations not too dissimilar to our own, they are readily acquirable and make for a speedier stumble home.

However…. this was to yield nothing except a drunken clambering over rusted, flat-tired junk in a strangers frontyard, and a long (5k) cold stumble home. With desperation mounting, I picked up a copy of the Trading Post a week later and was looking at a slightly rusted, extra large, practically destroyed road bike that day. $40 later for the frame and 4 rims, and I was on my way to conformity.

While the story of that exchange is worth an ear on another day, I have to tell you about the condition that this thing was in. The frame, whilst a perfect size, was scratched and rusted with disected brake cabling hanging off everywhere. The handlebars were covered in the sweat-stained tape of a rider from obviously a looong time ago. All of the rims were rusted, and housed in cracked and flat tubing. One pedal was rusted on, the other was no where to be seen. The foam of the seat had been eaten by the owner’s pet cockatoo. I was assured by the owner that ‘…a pedal and some air in the tyres and she’ll be good as new’. But it was pretty freakin clear that it’ll take more than air to fix this. Still, $40 and my wits were a small price to pay, and besides – I was keen to do this anyway.

Deciding just where exactly to begin was a challenge – the whole thing seemed overwhelming for someone who had never even ridden a bike for over 10 years, let alone tried to restore one. After giving the whole thing a hose-down, I scrubbed every trace of rust (and spilt paint – discovered later all over the chainwheel) with silver polish and hard work. And I mean hard work - this shit is hard to move!

Next, I detached the wheels and masked the drive train and areas I wished to keep chrome (handlebars etc), hung the whole thing on my clothes line, and sprayed it a matt black. Obviously if you got the cash, you’re better off powder-coating it because one spray of paint chips pretty easily – but it looked amazing. The paint alone already made me feel like the project was 90 percent done.

Next, I had to shorten the handlebars. The ones I had were the long ram-style looking things, with the brake levers vertically aligned. I wanted a simple, short handle bar that would fit a single horizontal brake lever. Simplicity was the objective. I knew that if the bike was not caveman-simple, I’d hate it and would just be wasting my time. The only way to do this was to bite the bullet and hacksaw the bar to the right length, just where the bar started to curve into the ram-horn things. $10 for the hacksaw, maybe half an hour to do the deed. I was stoked.

Next, I had been eyeing off some cheap but sweet parts at Abbotsford Cycles (just under Richmond train station – check them out, amazing place), and had picked up a new saddle ($10), new pedals (maybe $30 – cant remember), and some sweet new old-school grips ($5 – couldn’t believe it). The grips just slid over the stubs of my sawed-off handlebars (though you might want to soak them in some boiling water first to ensure their malleability, and to save frustration – they’ll just slide right on this way), and the saddle just attached right on where the old cockatoo-eaten thing was. The pedals, however, were a world of pain…

Given that there was only one on the thing when I bought it, I assumed that it would be a simple case of wrenching the thing off. However, those things can really get rusted on. The guys at Abbotsford Cycles, along with a spot of net-researching, recommended WD40 (who can blame them), and also a product called Penetrene that promised to penetrate rust. Neither of these budged it. I tried wrenching and soaking (even in Cola) for probably two weeks, all for nothing. For anyone who ever has the problem of rusted pedals, here’s the solution: hacksaw. Just cut the things off as best you can, until you can get your wrench in there enough to get a proper grip, and you’ll be away. I’m sure the Penetrene probably did go some way to making it easier to remove, but my advice there will probably save you hours.

With the frame sprayed, the rust removed, the rims and chrome polished, the handlebars perfect and shortened, the saddle new and cushy, the pedals complete and matching, the only thing left to do was to fix the drive train and get some new tubes and tyres. This is not cosmetic work, this is way beyond my knowledge – so I took her into Abbotsford Cycles (straight under Richmond train station).

All in all, the bike would be completed for $300 (fixing the drivetrain, new hub, brake calipers, brake lever, tubes and tyres – extremely reasonable). It was decided that rather than fixing the gears, I’d opt for a single speed bike. Same look as a fixie, but with a standard brake system to slow the bike rather then backpedaling (saves the knees too. Mightn’t be a true fixie, but hey! I’d rather that then thinking how young I once was when I look down at my shattered old-man knees…)

The in-shop process probably took about 3 days. When the guys wheeled it out, I couldn’t believe how amazing it looked. It was perfect! I think I probably felt proud more than anything… All in all, the project probably cost me about $400 (frame, paint, Penetrene, hacksaws, service, lock, parts) – a third of what it would instore, and let me tell you – it looks just as good. But that’s not the point. The point is that that bike and I had a very long (and perhaps frustrating) history, even before I rode a single meter! That process makes every single ride on that thing all the more richer – it’s my bike, I worked for it, and theres no other one like it.

If you’ve ever thought of restoring your own, I strongly recommend it and welcome you to share with me your stories, or comment on the process here if you’d like some advice or clarification on anything you’ve read. I’ve had some seriously relaxing times on that thing (the connection you feel with the road and your environment on a bike so simple is just unique), and done some of my best thinking on it’s saddle – all of which will be reflected in future posts.

Enjoy!

Welcome to bpa! To get the jist of what this blog is about, take the time to glance over the ’about’ section.

Also, feel free to comment on anything you see or read here.

…now let’s see how long this blog lasts