[Rob Manthey]

http://home.st.net.au/~pdunn/locations/camplunapark.htm  (the previous 
one)

http://www.geocities.com/milesago2001/cloudland.htm   (very good one)

http://www.brisbane.qld.gov.au/council_at_work/improving_city/urban_rene
wal/renewal_areas/bowen_hills/tour/cloudland.shtml   (what a piece of shit! 
BCC - dedicated to a better brisbane - bullshit.)

and the following vivid description of the era politics of cloudland ...
 ... my neighbour said he once attended a midnight oil gig at cloudland 
(most likely as support to someone like chisel)

AND I QUOTE ===== >
....
There was other support from around Australia and even 
outside it. Sir John Betjeman, Poet Laureate and a 
distinguished architectural critic, had visited Brisbane and 
thought that the Belle Vue/Queensland Club/Parliament 
House/Gardens precinct comprised 'the most distinguished 
buildings in a group which I saw anywhere in Australia'.2 
The Premier, Joh Bjelke-Petersen retaliated by claiming that 
the finished precinct which would replace it would be 
'unrivalled in any Australian capital'.3 
This was the atmosphere in which this important Brisbane 
building, recognised as significant not only by the 
conservation movement, but by the general public, was 
demolished in as stealthy a manner as was possible for such a 
prominent building. 
Public anger had died down, but not dissipated, when a 
similar 'midnight demolition' was carried out on a second 
listed building. Cloudland, at Bowen Hills, was built in 1939 
as the first stage of a Luna Park complex. It served during 
WWII as offices and an entertainment complex. It was the 
only place in Brisbane that could seat1000 for a formal dinner 
and so was the venue for the Queen's reception in 1977. It was 
used for balls, receptions and university examinations and 
later for rock concerts and markets. Cloudland was a 
landmark because of its hilltop position, the high arch of its 
entrance and the mature trees that surrounded it. It became a 
kitsch icon - 'the pink ballroom in the sky' and gained 
meaning for a new generation as a venue for concerts by 
some of the best bands of the 70s.4 Pogoing - bouncing up 
and down in unison on the huge sprung dance floor so that a 
trampoline effect was created - was popular (though none too 
good for the aging building). In February 1982, however, the 
police raided a Cold Chisel concert. As concerts were then 
discontinued, this helped to hasten its end and on 7 
November 1982, Cloudland was demolished at 4.00 a.m. 
without Council permission. 
By 10.30 that morning, the streets around Cloudland were 
choked with cars as disbelieving people, alerted by the radio, 
came to stare at the rubble. Some wept.5 
As Jim Fuller of the Trust said, although many considered it 
too gaudy to have architectural merit, it had strong social 
significance.6 
Its demolition triggered renewed calls for legislation to 
protect listed buildings. The Brisbane City council were 
sympathetic towards heritage, but had little power to act. In 
this case, although the demolition had been illegal and the 
Council sued the developer, the fine was only $125 plus $ 
65.67 costs - hardly a deterrent! It is ironic that on the day that 
Cloudland was demolished, the World Town Planning 
Conference was held in Brisbane. Its theme? 'The 
Development of Queensland's Heritage Resources'. 




AND HERE'S THE ENTIRE TEXT =========>

SOMETHING WORTH FIGHTING FOR:
THE NATIONAL TRUST OF QUEENSLAND AND THE
GROWTH OF THE CONSERVATION MOVEMENT 
A movement to preserve places that were the best and most 
characteristic examples of the built environment in 
Queensland began in the early 1960s. The National Trust of 
Queensland was formed by a group of concerned individuals 
who advertised their interest in forming a Trust in 1962. It 
was established by an Act of Parliament in 1963, but it was, 
and is, a community body governed by a Council, not a 
government institution. 
A sense of pride in our heritage was slow in forming because 
'Historical' was thought to equate with 'old' and Australia 
was seen as a very new country. What could Queensland 
have that was old enough to be interesting compared with the 
antiquities of the Old World? In 1937, Newstead House, the 
earliest surviving house in Brisbane, was described as having 
'nothing very historical in it.' Although the Historical Society 
of Queensland later used this building as a museum, it was 
not until the 1950s that its repair and furnishing were 
proposed. Nowadays we recognise that places are important 
to us because they are part of our identity and so comparisons 
with other countries are not necessary. 
In the 1970s interest in Australian history began to grow and 
attitudes about our historic buildings underwent considerable 
re-appraisal. The rapid destruction of landmarks and a 
climate of growing social awareness accelerated public 
support. The Australian Heritage Commission was formed in 
1975 and in the following year set standards for professionals 
who were responsible for the care of buildings. These were 
based on an international charter drawn up in Venice, but 
adapted to Australian conditions. The document that set out 
these standards is known as the Burra Charter, after the place 
in South Australian where it was drawn up. It recommends 
that places should be researched and understood before 
decisions are made regarding their use and before work is 
carried out on them, that records of such work should be kept 
and that repair is better than replacement. This seems no 
more than common sense, but at the time, and even now, 
these guidelines were often ignored. 
General interest in our history and identity grew as the bi-
centennial approached. The Federal government was 
supportive and funding was made available for a number of 
useful heritage projects. However, Queensland lagged behind 
in this respect and became notorious for 'Midnight 
Demolitions'. The most famous of these was the destruction 
of the Belle Vue Hotel. 
At 12.20 on the night of 20th April 1979, the Belle Vue, a 
Brisbane landmark at the corner of George and Alice Streets, 
was demolished in the teeth of popular opposition. Twenty 
years later, this event seems curiously fresh in the City's 
memory. The event did not mark the beginning of the 
conservation movement in Queensland, but it was a 
watershed, because it provoked an anger and awareness 
amongst many people who had not previously been 
concerned about built heritage. 
The Belle Vue was designed in 1886 by architect John Cohen 
for J.A. Zaheland was built on the site of an earlier hotel. It 
was one of Brisbane's most prestigious hotels, popular with 
politicians during sittings of Parliament and with visiting 
celebrities. It was the venue for many social events and also 
had a thriving bar trade. In the early 1960s, the owners 
wanted to extend the hotel at the rear, but permission for this 
was denied. The State Government wished to buy the hotel to 
accommodate country parliamentarians and threatened the 
owners with resumption if they would not sell. 
When the Government acquired the hotel in 1967, a glowing 
report was given on its condition. This was later recalled by 
many when poor condition was given as a reason for 
demolition, which was first mooted in 1970. At this time the 
hotel was saved by an energetic public campaign. When the 
National Trust began to compile a Register of significant 
places in the early 1970s, the Belle Vue was one of the first 
listings. 
The Trust also agitated for proper maintenance and repair of 
the hotel, which was being visibly neglected, and prepared a 
public campaign leaflet which urged this. Shortly afterwards, 
in early June 1974, the verandahs were removed, leaving the 
hotel looking, in the words of the Director, 'like a plucked 
chook'. Questions were asked in Parliament about the curious 
secrecy surrounding this act and the fact that it was carried 
out on a wet Sunday(attracting penalty rates) directly after 
new locks and bolts had been installed. On the 9th June a 
large public rally was organised by the Trust at Old 
Government House to protest this action and to call for the 
preservation of the hotel. 
Hodges, Minister for Works and Housing, dismissed the 
protest as 'emotional exhibitionism'. He promised the Trust in 
October 1974, that proposed developments in the area would 
not affect either the Belle Vue or the Mansions, which were 
also believed to be under threat. The Trust lobbied all 
candidates for the coming elections in December to have the 
building preserved and restored. By 1976, the campaign to 
save the hotel was attracting broader public support and had 
gained newspaper and television coverage. In 1977the 
Australian Heritage Commission listed Belle Vue on the new 
Register of the National Estate, but its fate was still 
undecided. When the new Parliamentary Annexe was 
completed, the Government no longer needed the Belle Vue. 
Several schemes for its reuse were promoted. These included 
use as a hospitality school and residential college by QIT or 
by the Royal Flying Doctor Service as a medical and 
conference centre and a base for visiting country members. 
Although the cost of restoration was given as a reason for 
dismissing such recycling schemes, many people did not 
accept this. The National Times noted that $900,000, more 
than twice the suggested cost of restoration, had been spent 
on crockery alone for the new annexe (known locally as the 
Taj Mahal), and that many people 'outside the formal 
conservation circles want to see it stay'.1 The artist Rick 
Everingham donated a painting for a fund-raising raffle and 
the Trade Union banned its members from taking part in 
demolition work on the building. 
There was other support from around Australia and even 
outside it. Sir John Betjeman, Poet Laureate and a 
distinguished architectural critic, had visited Brisbane and 
thought that the Belle Vue/Queensland Club/Parliament 
House/Gardens precinct comprised 'the most distinguished 
buildings in a group which I saw anywhere in Australia'.2 
The Premier, Joh Bjelke-Petersen retaliated by claiming that 
the finished precinct which would replace it would be 
'unrivalled in any Australian capital'.3 
This was the atmosphere in which this important Brisbane 
building, recognised as significant not only by the 
conservation movement, but by the general public, was 
demolished in as stealthy a manner as was possible for such a 
prominent building. 
Public anger had died down, but not dissipated, when a 
similar 'midnight demolition' was carried out on a second 
listed building. Cloudland, at Bowen Hills, was built in 1939 
as the first stage of a Luna Park complex. It served during 
WWII as offices and an entertainment complex. It was the 
only place in Brisbane that could seat1000 for a formal dinner 
and so was the venue for the Queen's reception in 1977. It was 
used for balls, receptions and university examinations and 
later for rock concerts and markets. Cloudland was a 
landmark because of its hilltop position, the high arch of its 
entrance and the mature trees that surrounded it. It became a 
kitsch icon - 'the pink ballroom in the sky' and gained 
meaning for a new generation as a venue for concerts by 
some of the best bands of the 70s.4 Pogoing - bouncing up 
and down in unison on the huge sprung dance floor so that a 
trampoline effect was created - was popular (though none too 
good for the aging building). In February 1982, however, the 
police raided a Cold Chisel concert. As concerts were then 
discontinued, this helped to hasten its end and on 7 
November 1982, Cloudland was demolished at 4.00 a.m. 
without Council permission. 
By 10.30 that morning, the streets around Cloudland were 
choked with cars as disbelieving people, alerted by the radio, 
came to stare at the rubble. Some wept.5 
As Jim Fuller of the Trust said, although many considered it 
too gaudy to have architectural merit, it had strong social 
significance.6 
Its demolition triggered renewed calls for legislation to 
protect listed buildings. The Brisbane City council were 
sympathetic towards heritage, but had little power to act. In 
this case, although the demolition had been illegal and the 
Council sued the developer, the fine was only $125 plus $ 
65.67 costs - hardly a deterrent! It is ironic that on the day that 
Cloudland was demolished, the World Town Planning 
Conference was held in Brisbane. Its theme? 'The 
Development of Queensland's Heritage Resources'. 
The following year saw the demise of a third public icon, Her 
Majesty's Opera House in Queen Street, Brisbane, designed in 
1888 by the flamboyant architect Andrea Stombuco. This 
time, discussions did take place and negotiations to keep at 
least the facade continued even as the scaffolding was put in 
place for demolition. However, the whole building was 
eventually destroyed, even though it was operating as a 
theatre to the last, and there was then no alternative venue in 
Brisbane for most live shows. 
It was clear that change could only be effected by strong 
public pressure for legislation. This can be seen in the 
coverage of these events by the press. During the 1970s 
Queensland became notorious for its poor record, said to be 
the worst in Australia, with regard to heritage. 'Brisbane is a 
city where things go bump in the night and buildings 
mysteriously collapse.'7 
The National Trust of Queensland pressed hard for heritage 
legislation from its inception, although this was by no means 
its only activity. Because the demolition of Belle Vue and the 
long campaign to save it drew national attention, it is easy to 
forget that there were victories, even during the most 
destructive period of redevelopment. Wolston House was 
saved by its acquisition by the Trust and was repaired and 
presented as a house museum. The Mansions were saved and 
refurbished, although in a modified form. A determined 
campaign saved Old Government House, now a house 
museum and the National Trust headquarters; unlikely as it 
now seems, there was a push to bulldoze this in the late 
1970s. Other buildings were acquired in various parts of 
Queensland in order to preserve them. A National Trust 
Register was begun to identify significant places and to 
gather information on them to support lobbying. It was clear, 
though, that what was really needed was legislation that 
could control development and specifically protect places 
recognised as having heritage significance. 
The Queensland government of the sixties and seventies 
promoted development at all costs, and the image of cranes 
on the skyline was promoted as a sign of progress and 
prosperity. Uncontrolled development is now no longer seen 
as good and legislation and town planning seek to control 
change so that the special character of places is preserved as 
far as practical. However, it was not until the government 
changed in 1989 that the long-sought Heritage Act was 
formulated. A Green Paper was produced for discussion and 
the National Trust's Register of listed places served as the 
basis for interim legislation in 1990. This was refined in the 
Heritage Act of 1992. The legislation was not all the 
conservation movement had hoped and the developer won 
the first serious challenge to it, the Ascot Chambers case. 
Adjustments to the Act have been necessary in the light of 
experience, but it did officially acknowledge the importance 
to the public of the state's built and natural heritage and put 
in place legal restraints. The concept of responsibility was 
established. 
Broad public recognition of the value of historically 
important places and a concerted effort to preserve them is 
itself comparatively recent. The Victorians delighted in the 
new as part of the notion that progress and headlong change 
are inseparable. We no longer embrace this concept and we 
no longer find ruins as romantic as they did. Perhaps too 
many were made in World War Two for this. A post war 
surge in development meant that many old buildings were 
demolished. This was hardly new, the Brisbane of 1870s 
barely resembled that of 1900, but the reaction is new. 
A desire to retain unique built and natural heritage can now 
be found inmost countries. It is possibly due to several factors 
including the provision of stability in an era of accelerating 
technical change. Pollution and other problems are evidence 
that scientific advancement is not the whole answer and 
change is no longer thought to be good in itself. There are 
also factors such as an increase in cultural tourism. Tourists 
seek places that reflect national character and such places are 
seen increasingly as community assets. 
The preservation of the Belle Vue was important to so many 
people because there was a sense of public ownership. This 
was also so with Cloudland and Her Majesty's Theatre, two 
other buildings for which bitter campaigns were fought and 
for which there was public mourning. It is no coincidence that 
they were all closely connected with people's lives - 
courtship, friendship, key occasions. Their buildings perhaps, 
but our past. This community value does not always accord 
with 'expert' views of what is important and this is 
increasingly taken into account nowadays. 
Over the last two decades we are changing the way in which 
we understand significance. Once the National Trust Register 
and other heritage lists tended to be filled with handsome 
mansions and public buildings. 'It's over a hundred years old' 
was said as if it was an automatic indicator of significance. 
Nowadays, the way in which a place illustrates our history 
and identity is considered to be more important than just age. 
For this reason, places that illustrate the lives of ordinary 
people are just as likely to be nominated for preservation as 
the merely beautiful. We are also looking more closely at 
buildings from the second half of the 20th century. This has 
been an era of enormous innovation and change and tangible 
evidence of it should be preserved if our own time is to be 
understood by subsequent generations. Recent listings 
overseas reflect this trend and include the first McDonald's 
restaurant, a missile silo and the small Council house in 
which Paul McCartney grew up. Making our own list of 
places that best illustrate our times can be an intriguing 
exercise. 
A 1972 UNESCO report on Australia noted that four things 
are essential to preserve the environment: a certain climate of 
opinion, legislation, expertise and money. Since then changes 
have occurred in Queensland in each of these areas and 
continue with a shift in emphasis from Federal and State to 
Local Government as management issues are addressed and 
funding is pruned. Current issues include finding means to 
preserve the character of suburbs in cities and to save 
working buildings in rural areas. An encouraging trend is 
increased recycling of buildings whose use has become 
redundant. The National Trust now includes an award for 
imaginative and sensitive reuse in its annual John Herbert 
Awards for excellence in conservation. Even so, important 
places vanish each year. Legislation alone cannot preserve 
places. Imagination and goodwill are needed so that we can 
continue to find ways to preserve that sense of depth and 
continuity in our community life which every healthy culture 
is said to require. 

MAUREEN LILLIE
10 December 1999