Frauenkirche, Dresden’s reborn masterpiece

This year’s extended travels landed me in some remarkable locations. Among them was at this remarkable baroque Church of our Lady dominating Dresden’s attractive Neumarkt (New Market Place). 

Designed by George Bahr, it was completed in 1743. Two hundred years later years later it was wantonly vandalised by Allied bombing during the early hours of February 13, 1945. Along with the destruction of the attractive historic city, 30,000 people died. The bombing of Dresden in the picturesque Elbe valley has joined questionable events claimed to bring an end to WW2. Other debatable events include the A-bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

Frauenkirche is said to be ``a masterpiece of European baroque yesterday and today.’’

In February 1990 an open letter from 14 Dresden people, triggered a wave of support for the reconstruction of their Frauenkirche. Support was from beyond country, political and religious boundaries.  The Frauenkirche would once again become the artistic and spiritual centre of an ill-treated city. Over the next 15 years the Church became a reemerging cultural monument.

These days its wealth of artistic features, with their spiritual testimony, is brought to life, even for the most casual onlooker.

At first sight, I knew this church had to be visited. I was intrigued by its dominance along with the statue of the Reformation hero, Martin Luther, standing guard close to its entrance. 

Interestingly, the Frauenkirche reconstruction was an archaeological rebuild utilising newly quarried Saxon sandstone. Salvaged materials from the original building were stored and used where possible. Some stonework, thanks to computer technology, was returned to original positions. Scars of history have therefore not been totally glossed over.

If the exterior is magnificent, nothing can prepare one for the splendour of the Frauenkirche interior galleries displaying another aspect of ingenious baroque architecture.

 An arching cupola above them all, with Chistoph Wetzel’s artwork recreated, attracts the eye upwards. Even in earlier times the cupola contributed to extraordinary acoustics suggestive of a surreal spiritual quality. Such heavenly acoustics attracted musicians and their choirs from across Europe. Richard Wagner visited in 1843.

Appropriately, an extended mission of the reborn Frauenkirche has been to become an international centre for enhancing peace, reconciliation and justice.

In the aftermath of the 2010 and 2011 earthquakes that devastated my own city of Christchurch, New Zealand, mention of Dresden has been sounded on several occasions as authorities continued to demolish cherished heritage city buildings.

We still struggle with the restoration of Gilbert Scott’s neo-Gothic Anglican cathedral in our city centre.

Curiously, Coventry in England is a sister city of Dresden. Both cities tell astonishing, albeit differing, stories of the rebirth of a principal place of worship.

 

The 12 out of 10 man

Does the title to this blog bring back memories of one’s aspiring success rate?  Efforts during school days were judged by how many one scored out of 10. If 10 out of 10 was unlikely the typical outcome, seven or 8 out of 10 was almost a celebration. Five out of 10 was an uninspiring average. And 6 out of 10 was marginally better.

A 4 out of 10 was demeaning. A one-time mentor, rail devote and educator Gordon Troup, remarked about giving a student a 4 out of 10.

``I did it for encouragement,’’ he said. His effort was not that good.’’

My own demeaning effort as a scholar was two percent in School Certificate French. (0.2 out of 10).

                                         Cyril Evans (left) with Gordon Troup (right).

I recall a day some years ago when I was handed the fireman’s shovel while having a footplate ride on Kingston Flyer loco Ab 795. Watching an old hand stoking a steam locomotive and it looks so easy. For the non-familiar, the task is anything but easy. I was amazed at how much coal I clumsily shovelled into the firebox and how little puff I saw in return. I was, however, feeling reasonably good about it as we chugged along towards Fairlight. Most of the coal had gone where it should. The rollicking footplate under me feet had remained mostly free of coal.

Glancing up to Mr Kingston Flyer, Russell Glendinning, I asked ``How many out of 10?’’

He wiped his forehead, smirked, and replied, ``Four.’’

He must have seen my disappointment.

``But if we get back to Kingston you might do better.’’

                              Mr Kingston Flyer, Russell Glendinning

I did owing mostly to the return trip being down-grade.

I ended up scoring an eight.

More recently I have been monkeying around with scoring.

If I am suitably impressed why not score better than 10 out of 10?

How about 12 out of 10?

It has a pleasant ring to it and is guarantee to return a smile.

Am I devilish, optimistic or just encouraging?

Health issues have necessitated ongoing hospital appointments. Our New Zealand health system curiously gets a bruising from the media. Interestingly, those needing to use the health system are more generous.

I am always impressed by the treatment I have received. Not just the medical treatment but the pleasant attitude of all involved.

My default mark along with expressing appreciation is therefore a 12 out of 10.

In my New world supermarket, a new checkout operator, Brenden, stood out somewhat. He was taller than his colleagues. And I saw him as one of those delightful old-fashioned grocers.

We might call them, ``a real grocer.’’

When I gave Brenden a 12 out of 10 he beamed. He then indicated his supervisor.

``Go and tell her that.’’

I did. The young woman packing my groceries looked amused.

On parting I told her she was an 11 out of 10.

I enjoy going to St Martin’s New World. All staff, on any day would score an 11 or better out of 10.

I once thought the best epitaph on my grave would be ``He loved his wine.’’

Maybe I would prefer to be remembered the ``12 out of 10 man.’’

                                John Snell, Manager of a pint-sized railway. He frequently scored

                             12 out of 10 in this blogger's opinion.

July kicked off with an auspicious event.

I was invited to a function in Ashburton to celebrate a change of ownership and editor of Latitude Magazine. I have been contributing a regular three-page story to Latitude for several years. Although not there at the beginning, I was close enough. I had spotted the magazine in Whitcoulls. The cover featured Canterbury artist, Austin Deans. I knew Austin so expected a good story. It was good. The entire magazine was so, so good.

Could I write for Latitude?

I contacted editor, Joanne Taylor, and submitted my first story. All good.  Unbeknown to me, Jo had been thinking I might be an appropriate contributor. She knew I was a freelance contributor to the Press Escape travel section.

Latitude was still a fledgling publication but was driven by some delightfully determined people. Joanne Taylor once told me she founded Latitude because she could never find anything decent to read at the hairdressers. One would suspect there might be a tad more to it than that.

Interestingly, a colleague from the Press had investigated starting g a Lifestyle magazine in competition with, then, long-running Avenues. My colleague intended teaming up with a long-time friend with her own successful PR business. Both women were experienced in their respective roles but failed to get their proposed magazine launched.

Then Latitude appeared on the magazine racks promoting itself as Canterbury’s lifestyle magazine.

It did not take long to discover Latitude people were great to be associated with. I have been to three or four events for contributors. We were able to get to know the core Latitude people and fellow contributors.  Friendships were made all-round.

Joanne Taylor was cleaver in placing her contributors into slots. She had started a ``I Remember When’’ feature and surmised, correctly, it would interest me. Another contributor, Annie Studholme, was experienced in travel. And so on.

Over time subscriptions blossomed and page numbers increased. Many issues have more than 120 pages.

After almost 11 years at the helm, Joanne Taylor was looking for a change in direction.  Along with Latitude magazine, she was involved in farm work with hubby Dean and bringing up a family. Joanne Taylor has packed an enormous variety into her life. She is still comparatively young. I could estimate how comparatively young but will refrain. I wrote the age of a woman I interviewed and got it wrong. So embarrassing.

Joanne sold Latitude to a long-time colleague, Lucinda Diack. Lucinda lives in North Canterbury. She has been a magazine editor and a published Penguin/Random House author.   She has a real passion for words, writing and magazines.

The surprise party for Jo Taylor was held at Ashburton’s Somerset Grocery. It partly delightfully old-fashioned with a café, bar and function facility added.

It was great to meet the new Latitude editor and wish the departing editor/owner a great future. Maybe a little regret all-round saying good bye to Jo Taylor. 

The Latitude Ashburton office staff ably led by operations manager, Julie Mc Grath, will remain.

I have filed my first stories with Lucinda Diack and all is exceptionally good.

I will continue to have a reason to get up in the morning, (to write a story.) Latitude contributors really love their writing.

All Latitude contributors will join me in wishing Joanne Taylor well for her future. She and Dean love to travel.

And we can be confident she will have something decent to read at the hairdressers.

Tourism Invasion

Recent reading was a back issue of Geographical Magazine (August 2017). A column about visitor numbers putting a strain on Iceland caught my eye.

As with New Zealand, it is natural wonders that attract visitors to Iceland.

Also similar to New Zealand is Iceland’s out-of-the way location, just south of the Arctic Circle in Iceland’s case.  Despite their location, the respective countries boast a booming tourism industry.

Iceland’s record 2.4 million tourists are taking a toll on the small country’s cultural and protected landmarks. Iceland embraced tourism following the crippling depression of 2008. Tourism served its purpose economically. But as more natural landmarks make the ``red list of endangered sites’’ locals are becoming wary of visitor’s disregard to protective fencing and forbidden off-road driving.

Visitor numbers have increased 1000 per cent over 20 years. Visitors regularly outnumber Iceland’s meagre population of 340,000. Iceland’s land area is 103,000 km sq. New Zealand is 268,000 km sq.

Lucrative holiday rentals in larger centres are pricing Icelanders out of their own homes.

Inadequate public transport, railways in particular, is adding to Iceland’s woes. A solution is to increase tax on tourist ventures from the present 11 per cent to 21 per cent.

Another innovation is to attract visitors to previously less popular locations.

I see similar problems rising in New Zealand where tourism has taken over from agriculture (particularly dairying) as the number one industry. The numbers are impressive.

                                               Above Christchurch. Gondola attraction

Arrivals, almost 4 million, are worth $14.5b to the economy. Tourism employs 230,799 people, representing 8.4 per cent of the workforce. Mo st visitors are from Australia followed by China. New Zealand tourism forecasts 4.9 million arrivals by 2023.

No wonder businesses involved in tourism are feeling buoyant.

But can our environment endure the stress of sheer numbers? Last year I wanted to visit Tekapo at the time of the lupin bloom. Accommodation costs (cheapest $400 per night) put paid to the trip. I felt we New Zealanders are being forced from enjoying our own country.

 Sealy tarn. Aoraki-Mt Cook NP.

Several media stories have been about the strain tourism is having on Tekapo’s famous Church of the Good shepherd. Visitors disregard church services and use the surrounds as an impromptu toilet.  

Nearby at Mount Cook, last summer a normally quiet camping ground, was bursting at its seams.

As with Iceland, holiday rentals are forcing locals away. At Queenstown much of the necessary workforce cannot afford to live in the lakeside town. They are forced to live a considerable distance away.

TSS Earnslaw. Lake Wakatipu, Queenstown 

Yet, we hear little about solutions or even concerns for the environment. From a business point of view, when the environment is compromised there will be little reason for a tourism industry. People will go elsewhere. The challenge is in striking a balance and to know when enough is becoming too many.

A tax on Tourists is forever in the discussion phase.

We are privileged to live in New Zealand’s exceptional environment. Just a matter of keeping it that way.

                                               Southern rata. Arthur's Pass NP.

Railway Stations West -1

I admit to fond memories of Springfield railway station. It was a watering stop for steam locomotives when I was a wide-eyed kid off on an adventure.

Refreshment rooms were modelled around the, then, steam locomotive’s need for watering about every 45 miles.

 Albeit less important, train passengers might also need refreshments, hence the network of refreshment rooms throughout the railway system.  On a frosty morning I would stamp my juvenile feet on the Springfield station platform to encourage circulation and warmth. One hand would clutch a mug of wonderful railway coffee. The other would clutch a hunk of tasty block cake or ham sandwich. (I later discovered recipes for coffee and block cake were closely guarded secrets).

The view ahead was likely the gloriously snow covered Torlesse range. In the mid-distance the Ja-class loco was at the water tank.

In railcar days, Springfield refreshment rooms became a teaming mass of humanity on both sides of the counter. Staff were frantic making coffee and slicing up block cake. Train passengers jostled in an attempt not to spill coffee over another passenger.

Refreshment stops were limited to 10 minutes. Hence the frenzy. But I never heard of anyone being left behind. 

It was all a slice of Kiwi culture until refreshment rooms were closed down by a bureaucracy having no sense of value in history.

Springfield station subsequently re-opened as a café. Then closed.

My media colleague, Simon Williams, had the nouse to set up a Friends of Springfield station community hub. The station café reopened. He and his wife, Lynn, relocated from Christchurch to Springfield and are loving it.

Simon, left, with Gayle and Barry

Simon had worked for TVNZ news. I was a reporter on the Christchurch Press. We both covered the inaugural run of the TranzAlpine tourist train on November 22, 1987. The rail bosses of the day said our efforts contributed to the success of the new venture. The following year TranzAlpine Express won a coveted New Zealand Tourism Award.

Calling on Simon and Lynn, we are soon off to the rail station. We meet Gale and Barry, the latter the competent barista. Along with coffee we enjoy equally excellent asparagus rolls.

The station is almost as it once was. Hence part of it is a museum. Dorothy is an organic plants guru.  She also sells seeds complete with instructions on their plantings in Springfield conditions.

I recall when Springfield was a smoky depot for six husky Kb class locomotives built especially for the Springfield to Arthur’s Pass section. They have long gone. An occasional preserved steam locomotive still passes through Springfield. It will typically head a train load of rail enthusiasts. Diesel-hauled freight trains pass through day and night.

                                                    Preserved Ka 942 leaving Springfield

And the famed TranzAlpine pauses twice daily during its return trip from Christchurch to Greymouth. The station café has a contract to provide cheese boards for the train. They have a supply of cheese from Barry’s Bay on Banks Peninsula.

TranzAlpine Springfield puddle reflection

I recall days when retired railwayman, Keith Williams, would bring his border collie, Rosie, to meet the TranzAlpine. Rosie would be treated to a meat pie by one of the train staff. Over time, Rosie consumed over 5000 pies. Needless to say, Rosie lost her ability to chase sheep. And I recall someone once calculated the cost of Rosie’s pies.

Simon tells me he is modelling Springfield on notable railway station preservations in Britain.  He wants Springfield railway station to become a destination. A regular market will be added. Good on him for keeping something from our past alive and exciting.

Spring at Springfield

          

Promoting Peace through boats and bells

This year the New Zealand World Peace Bell has welcomed two Japanese people associated with the Peace Boat. A household name to Japanese, the Peace Boat has been operating since 1983. Calling it a boat, however, is an understatement. Ocean Dream, built in Denmark in 1981, weighs in at about 36,000 tonnes.  Over 30 years it has carried 50,000 passengers of different ages and nationalities. Rather than being on vocation, passengers participate in peace-related projects. A recent voyage that called into Port Lyttelton was carrying a banner asking governments to support the 2017 UN resolution to have nuclear weapons declared illegal. In the cargo hold was a Japanese lantern destined for the Kurashiki Sister City Garden in Halswell Quarry.

I first heard about the Peace Boat in an obscure way. My partner and I were cycling the length of Japan, heading towards Nagasaki. Some weeks previously, I had signed an agreement with Tomijiro Yoshida, CEO of the World Peace Bell Association in Tokyo, to have a bell gifted to New Zealand. I had discovered the story of Chiyoji Nakawawa fashioning a large bell, similar to a Japanese temple bell, using coins from countries belonging to the newly-established United Nations. The bell was presented to the UN in 1954 with Nakawawa’s message.  ``What happened to my country in 1945 (referring to the A bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki) should not happen to any other.’’

While bicycle wheels rolled along Japan, the bell for New Zealand was manufactured. One of our core group members had contacted the Peace Boat having heard it was setting off on its first voyage to New Zealand, calling at Auckland. It was agreed the Peace Boat would carry our bell to Auckland at no charge to us. A postman delivered the 385 kg bell to Christchurch.  Rather than riding a typical postal bicycle, he was driving a large truck. 

A stylish pavilion was built for the bell and it was unveiled in Christchurch Botanic Gardens on October 3, 2006.

Asuka Watarai, from Chiba Prefecture, had sailed on the Peace Boat from Yokohama to New Zealand and Australia and beck to Japan earlier this year. She returned to New Zealand and was a guest of one of our WPB members, Antonio Yuge, while in Christchurch.

She enjoyed her visit to our World Peace Bell, the occasion being enhanced by the Botanic Gardens displaying brilliant autumn colours. Asuka looked as if she was trying to hug the bell.  (She would have been welcome to give me a hug. Sadly that did not happen.)

Earlier in the year 82-year-old Michimasa Hirata disembarked the Peace Boat in Port Lyttelton and visited our bell. He had a poignant message, having been aged nine when the Atomic Bomb dropped on Hiroshima. He told about aimless people with skin shredding and eyes popped from their sockets. He spoke also about a network of World Peace Bells worldwide promoting a world without war.

The most recent World Peace Bell unveiling was in Canberra, Australia, It was the 24^th bell internationally.

By co-incidence, I am penning this blog on ANZAC Day when Australia and New Zealand, especially, are commemoration their thousands of casualties in two world wars.

Maybe the most appropriate way to honour one’s war dead is to never start another conflict.    

Trans-Tasman Capers

Two weeks have been spent beyond my home, the Land of the Long White Shroud. More specifically I have been in Australia. Principal purpose was to attend the unveiling of the Canberra Rotary Peace Bell on February 23. I had been in contact for some time with Mr. Canberra Peace Bell, Michael Rabey. Four years ago he and his wife Joan took the Christchurch city tram to the Botanic Gardens stop and went for a wander. They came across our world Peace Bell and thought what a great thing it was. Could they have one in their own city? Four years later, after much fundraising, it has been unveiled in an idyllic lakeside location in Canberra’s Nara Peace Park. Nara is the Japanese sister city of Canberra.

Michael and Joan kindly hosted my Canberra visit. My sole additional task was to front up with a lunchtime talk for the Burley Griffen Rotary Club. Subject was the Rebuild of Christchurch and a spiel about how the World Peace Bell came to be in Christchurch. I took a pin drive of images and the event went down well. I owe the greater part of the success to the glass of wine with my gorgeous lunch.

Michael was delighted to learn that my inspiration for the New Zealand World Peace Bell was from a visit to Cowra to attend the annual Cherry Blossom festival. There, I had discovered the Australian World Peace Bell and heard the story of the first WPB being presented by Chiyoji Nakagawa to the newly established UN in 1954.

``What happened to my country in WW 2 should never happen to any other country,’’ was Nakagawa’s message. He was referring to the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

My thinking was Nakagawa was a brave man. At the time he was mayor of a Shikoku city. I then thought of New Zealand’s former Prime Minister, David Lange, introducing our strict anti-nuclear policy in 1987. Also a brave man.

So I went about negotiating for a New Zealand World Peace Bell, eventually unveiled in Christchurch Botanic Gardens on October 3, 2006.

Michael and I agreed to gamefully promote the lucky trans-Tasman visits that led to Peace Bells in Christchurch and Canberra.

I met some great people in Canberra. The bell housing is based on the shape of a Japanese fan. The architect, Frank Kasparek, told me his efforts were inspired by the design of the World Peace Bell in Christchurch.

At the unveiling commenced with an intriguing Aboriginal Smoking Ceremony. It told us wisely about our relationships with the land.  I was also delighted to meet Bill West, Mayor of Cowra, and Katsumi Sato, International Director of the World Peace Bell Association in Tokyo.

Incidentally, the day before the unveiling (February 22) Michael Rabey set up the bell for me. Once the striker was in place I was invited to ring the bell. I looked at my watch. It was 10.47 am.

I suggested I wait four minutes. I then rang the Canberra bell. It was 12.51 pm (New Zealand time.) The exact moment the bell in Christchurch was being rung to commemorate seven years since the disastrous Canterbury earthquakes.

My next stop was Adelaide where my mate, John Berry, gave me a great day concluding with a visit to the Parade of Light where selected inner city buildings became impromptu screens for creative projected imagery. So very impressive.

Next afternoon I took a flight west to Perth to catch up with family, including my son Michael, wife Tiffany, and four grandchildren. I also completed the purchase of a new bicycle, a Giant Expressway 1 (folding bike).  I managed 80 km mostly on the city’s brilliantly- extensive separated cycleways. One ride was joined by 7-year-old grandson, Cooper. He comfortably managed 12 km and learned a bike ride with granddad included a coffee stop.

Returned home on the Air NZ seasonal direct flight from Perth aboard the B787-9 also known as the Dreamliner.

For me Dreamliner has associations with Australian indigenous people. 

Pleased to be safely home I, am feeling grateful for another, albeit brief, inspiring travel experience.