Built in June 1917, the popular 'Sign of the Kiwi' heritage building in Christchurch's Port Hills has re-opened today after being closed for six years due to earthquake damage.
This article examines the representation of Christchurch, New Zealand, student radio station RDU in the exhibition Alternative Radio at the Canterbury Museum in 2016. With the intention of ‘making visible what is invisible’ about radio broadcasting, the exhibition articulated RDU as a point of interconnection between the technical elements of broadcasting, the social and musical culture of station staff and volunteers, and the broader local and national music scenes. This paper is grounded in observations of the exhibitions and associated public programmes, and interviews with the key participants in the exhibition including the museum's exhibition designer and staff from RDU, who acted as independent practitioners in collaboration with the museum. Alternative Radio also addressed the aftermath of the major earthquake of 22 February 2011, when RDU moved into a customised horse truck after losing its broadcast studio. The exhibition came about because of the cultural resonance of the post-quake story, but also emphasised the long history of the station before that event, and located this small student radio station in the broader heritage discourse of the Canterbury museum, activating the historical, cultural, and personal memories of the station's participants and audiences.
Unreinforced masonry churches in New Zealand, similarly to everywhere else in the word have proven to be highly vulnerable to earthquakes, because of their particular construction features. The Canterbury (New Zealand) earthquake sequence, 2010-2011 caused an invaluable loss of local architectural heritage and of churches, as regrettably, some of them were demolished instead of being repaired. It is critical for New Zealand to advance the data collection, research and understanding pertaining to the seismic performance and protection of church buildings, with the aim to:
Architecture and music have a long intertwining history.These respective creative forces many times have collaborated into monumental place, harboured rich occasion, been catalyst for cultural movement and defined generations. Together they transcend their respective identities. From dinky local church to monstrous national stadia, together they are an intense concentration, a powerfully addictive dosage where architecture is the place, music is the faith, and people are the reason. Music is a programme that architecture often celebrates in poetic and grand fashion; a superficial excuse to symbolise their creative parallels. But their relationship is much richer and holds more value than just the opportunity to attempt architectural metaphor.While music will always overshadow the architecture in the sense of a singular event, architecture is like the soundman behind the mixing desk. It’s not the star front and centre grabbing your attention, but is responsible for framing the star. It is the foundational backdrop, a critical pillar. Great architecture can help make great music. In this sense music is a communication of architecture, it is the ultimate creative function. Christchurch, New Zealand, is a city whose story changed in an instant. The seismic events of 2010 and 2011 have become the overriding subject of its historical narrative, as it will be for years to come. Disaster redefines place (the town of Napier, struck by an earthquake in 1931, exemplifies this). There is no quantifiable justification for an exploration of architecture and music within the context of Christchurch. The Town Hall, one of New Zealand’s most architecturally significant buildings, is under repair. The Christ Church Cathedral will more than likely be rebuilt to some degree of its former self. But these are echoes of the city that Christchurch was.They are saved because they are artefact. Evidence of history.This thesis makes the argument for the new, the better than before, and for the making of opportunity from disaster, by proposing a ‘new’ town hall, conceived from the sound of old.