Geography gets off the ground

Tags

1940s, 1950s, field work, geography

Geography students on a stage III field trip outside the Vulcan Hotel, St Bathans, c.1953. Head of department Ron Lister stands sixth from left in the front. Can you identify anybody else? Photograph courtesy of Patricia Graham.

Geography has the high school syllabus to thank for its beginnings as a university subject at Otago. In recent weeks I’ve posted about a couple of popular subjects that first got their own departments at Otago in the 1960s: psychology and anthropology. Geography got off the ground a little earlier because, unlike those two subjects, it was taught in schools. In 1945 the government introduced extensive changes to the secondary school curriculum, including, among other things, a new focus on social studies. With the school leaving age raised from 14 years to 15 years in 1944, and a policy to reduce class sizes, there was an ever-increasing demand for teachers able to teach junior pupils social studies and senior pupils geography. Secondary principals had already been campaigning for a full university degree in geography for some years, and there was clearly a demand for the subject from people who had enjoyed it at school. World War II only increased this demand – overseas service prompted an interest in geography for some New Zealanders, while others who had stayed home and followed the events of the war also developed a new passion for the subject. Existing geography courses at Auckland and Canterbury could not keep up with the demand.

The department began when Otago’s first geography lecturer, Ben Garnier, arrived late in 1945; from 1946 students could commence a major in geography for a BA, and an MA course began in 1950. Garnier was born in China and educated in England; he completed a master’s degree from Cambridge and taught at Wellington Technical College before taking up the Otago post. After leaving in 1951 he continued his academic career in geography in Nigeria, the US and Canada. Garnier later recalled his first lecture at Otago. The new department was allocated a few rooms in Mellor House, an old home in Union Street (now part of the Department of Psychology), and the furniture arrived just a couple of hours before the first class. “When I entered the lecture room, I could hardly believe my eyes,” wrote Garnier. “Every seat was taken. There were people sitting on the tables and others were propping up the walls, while a substantial number had spilled over onto the verandah outside. Instead of the 20 to 25 students I had been advised to expect, there were, as I remember, between 70 and 80 starting off geography at Otago.” Garnier was delighted at this response, and relieved when the university found them a larger lecture room.

The booming new department got a helping hand from the Professors of Geology and Mines, who lent maps, aerial photographs and equipment to help with the practical elements of the course. The first demonstrator was one of the many returned servicemen flooding onto campus; he was studying mining but his experience as an Air Force navigator made him ideal to teach some geography skills! Richard Greenwood, another Cambridge-trained geographer, arrived early in 1948 as the department’s second lecturer; his wife Eileen, also a geographer, became a demonstrator. Greenwood recalled that the students “were a stimulating mixture of school leavers and returned servicemen.” He taught on the regional geography of Europe and Asia, while Garnier concentrated on physical geography, including his special interest field of climatology. Students interpreted maps and carried out rural and urban surveys as part of their field work. The Taieri was a frequent subject of student surveys, and Karitane was another location mapped and interpreted with varying degrees of success by early students. Senior students went further afield for their practical work. 1940s student Mary Jackson (nee Kibblewhite) recalled a Stage III field trip to Benmore Station, near Omarama, where “my birthday was marked by a day’s deer stalking with four male students and a large meat pie for my birthday cake, which the five of us ate while sheltering from the wind in the snow tussocks high on the hills.”

The 1954 Stage III field trip was based in Balclutha. Ron Lister is on the far right. Seated next to him is Mary Kibblewhite, then possibly Doric Mabon and Elizabeth Blomfield. The woman closest to the camera is Beverley South; next to her is Jocelyn Cole, then John Sinclair and Mary James. At the back left, partially obscured, is Raynor Robb. Second on the right from him is Ray Shave. Photograph courtesy of Patricia Graham.

Regular field trips and tutorials helped create within geography a spirit of camaraderie and the department became well-known for its friendly environment. Though neither Garnier nor Greenwood remained long at Otago, they successfully established, with only minimal resources, a large new department. Their initial work was consolidated by their successors, most notably Ron Lister, who replaced Garnier as senior lecturer in 1952. When geography finally got its first professorial chair, in 1965, Lister was appointed to the role; he retired in 1982 after thirty years as head of department.

Some of the information in this post comes from a wonderful book of reminiscences, From Mellor to Hocken, published in 1995 to mark the department’s 50th anniversary. Do you have any further stories to share of the early years of the Department of Geography? I am grateful to the remarkable Hugh Kidd, long-time geography staff member, for helping identify the photographs. Can you spot anybody else you know in them?

The venerable Critic

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1920s, 1950s, 2000s, 2010s, Critic, design, publications

The first issue of Critic, 2 April 1925. Reproduced with the kind permission of Critic.

Perhaps venerable isn’t quite the right description, but the Otago student newspaper/magazine Critic Te Arohi has been around for a long time now – 89 years, to be exact. In 1925 medical student Francis Bennett, who edited the annual student publication The Review, suggested a new student newspaper and the OUSA approved. This would replace the 4-page newsletter Te Korero, which Bennett later described as “a dismal rag which [Dan Aitken] and I usually filled up with imaginative froth a few hours before it went to press.” As editor Archibald Campbell explained in the first issue, Critic would include plenty of news, but it would also be a place where “criticism may be brought into the open.” If it lived up to its name, the new arrival would “suffer no word or deed to go unquestioned within the four walls of Otago University.”

In the succeeding nine decades, Critic has lived up those initial hopes. While its quality and style has varied through the years, it has always included a lively mixture of campus news, humour and commentary on the issues of the day. It has frequently, though not always, been radical, and sometimes it pushes the boundaries. In 2013 the New Zealand Press Council noted that student magazines “are a particular genre, with a long history of provocation and even offensiveness. They are also usually noted for their edgy and ironic tone.” On that occasion the Press Council was dismissing a complaint against Critic, but the publication has not always got off so lightly. In 2010 the council upheld a complaint about a Critic article on some well-known Dunedin “vagrants” with mental health problems. Getting the tone of an article wrong also led Critic into trouble in 2005, when a piece designed to highlight the problem of date rape worried numerous people. It was referred by police to the censor and the issue was eventually banned, though by then several months had passed and it had been widely distributed. It was politics which caused the trouble on a much earlier occasion. In 1952 the Otago Daily Times, which printed Critic under contract to the OUSA, refused to print a front page article “U.S. Germ Warfare in Korea?” The article had already appeared in the Canterbury student newspaper, Canta, but the ODT took objection to its “Communist point of view” (it was a condensed version of a People’s China piece). After taking legal advice, Critic agreed to publish it in the next edition, but accompanied with an article “giving the opposing point of view.” The relationship with the ODT has been an interesting one, as editor Holly Walker noted in a 2005 article celebrating Critic‘s 80th anniversary: “As far as I can tell, Critic has always been, and will always be, dominated by sex, funny stories about freshers, stupid letters to the editor, apathy about student elections, and antagonism for the ODT. Long may it continue.”

Holly Walker, now a Green MP, is one of various Critic editors and staff who have gone on to prominent careers in New Zealand public life. For some, such as radio and TV broadcaster Jim Mora and political commentator Chris Trotter, Critic has been the start of a life in media. Geoffrey Cox, joint-editor in 1930, went on to a significant career in journalism in the UK. Others have made their mark in other fields, like 1952 editor Paul Oestreicher, an Anglican priest known for his work for peace.

Critic covers have come a long way. The 10 March 2014 issue. Reproduced with the kind permission of Critic.

It isn’t only writing and editing skills that have been developed at Critic; designers have also earned their stripes on the student publication. What was once a rather plain magazine, and later a broadsheet newspaper, has now become a skillfully-designed full colour production, available both in hard copy and online. The covers created by design studies major Andrew Jacombs for Critic in 2011 won him plaudits from international design industry blog Coverjunkie. When a June 2012 cover also featured on Coverjunkie, it caught the eye of the staff of US magazine Newsweek. Critic team members Joe Stockman, Sam Stuchbury and Sam Clark adapted their design for the cover of the US giant, which boasts a readership of 14 million.

The design of Critic is clearly much more sophisticated in the twenty-first century than it was in the twentieth, but not everything is more “advanced”: the letters to the editor are as infantile as ever! Do you have any memories to share of this longstanding feature of student life?

 

Another recent issue, from 17 March 2014. Reproduced with the kind permission of Critic.

Student life in 1934

Tags

1930s, books, clothing, film, food, home science, music, recreation, sports, Studholme

Margaret Foster-Barham on the 1926 Triumph 500cc motorbike she rode from Nelson to Otago. Image courtesy of Judy Hogg.

“At present I am full of ‘pep’ with lots of good resolutions for work, health, exercise, thoughts & deeds.” So begins the 1934 diary of Margaret Foster-Barham as she commenced her final year of study for the three-year Diploma in Home Science at Otago. Margaret lived at Lower Studholme, the original Studholme building (where Unicol is today). As a senior resident she now had the luxury of a room to herself, though she had mixed feelings about that. “It’s rather a pity all the old wives are so far away. However perhaps it will be better not to see too much of them. Their talk upon dress & men becomes a little irksome.”

The freshers’ welcome, held at Upper Studholme, was an enjoyable event. Margaret was impressed with the supper and recorded the menu “as it might be a suggestion for some other time.” The students indulged in oyster and salmon patties with green peas, Parker House rolls, sandwiches, peach ice cream, coffee, salted almonds and other nuts. The Dean of Home Science, the impressive American Ann Strong, then gave a talk about her recent trip, showing “photos on a moving camera.” Strong had also brought back from her trip “a fascinating new gong” for Studholme, “on which different calls can be played.” Margaret found the Dean “most inspiring”, as she “expresses ideals in just the manner I would put things if I could.”

Margaret found her workload pretty heavy at times. As part of the practical element of her home science course she took her turn, paired with another student, at housekeeping at Studholme, which included a stint of cooking dinner over Easter. Later in the year she “nearly bust with pride” when she got 80% in nutrition. Then there was dressmaking. The students all made a “body,” a basic pattern to fit their own measurements, to be used as a basis for other patterns. Margaret’s diary reveals that body image is not a new problem. “I have been working at the old body,” she wrote in March. “She is looking quite nice, though is alarmingly big. It’s rather a good thing we can’t see ourselves as others see us!!” Her sewing projects included a green woollen dress and a peach velvet dress. A green silk dress was “not too successful. Brassiere kept slipping & also straps. Very maternal effect!”

But Margaret’s life was not all work; she socialised regularly with friends, both male and female. She particularly enjoyed the “pictures”, which she attended frequently. Favourites she saw in 1934 included Bitter Sweet, starring Anna Neagle, and The Song of Songs, which Margaret found “very beautiful … in excellent taste.” It starred Marlene Dietrich: “I love her voice & figure.” Wednesday nights at the musical society were another regular highlight: “It is great fun. We are doing a very jolly ballad of Gustav Holst, called King Estmere.” There was also time for a little light reading. One favourite was “a jolly little book”: The Small Dark Man by Irish writer Maurice Walsh. It was “light & well written” and Margaret noted it would  be “rather a nice book to give for a present.”

Margaret Foster-Barham. Photograph courtesy of Judy Hogg.

Margaret also enjoyed more energetic pursuits, such as tennis, though she noted that her “tennis needs much improvement.” An outing with her friend Tony to watch motorbike racing was “exciting in patches but for the most part boring & cold.” Motorbikes were, however, an important influence in Margaret’s life. She rode her Triumph from her family home in Nelson to university, and later to her teaching job at a Canterbury school. On one occasion she fell off in the gravel at Oaro just south of Kaikoura. Local farmer Owen Stanford rescued her from the ditch and, as daughter Judy explains, Margaret showed her gratitude by marrying him!

In 1934 there were only 1237 students at the University of Otago, including 79 studying home science. Just 319 – a quarter – of Otago students were women. The campus was clearly a very different place from today, but some things don’t change. Students still struggle to balance work and play, celebrate when they get good marks, enjoy socialising and movies and music, have adventures getting from A to B, and analyse the quality of residential college food. My heartfelt thanks to Judy Hogg for sharing her mother’s charming diary and allowing us a peek into one woman’s experience of life at Otago eighty years ago!

 

Covering capping books

Tags

1920s, 1930s, 1940s, 1950s, art, graduation

Rocket science and rock and roll featured on the 1957 cover, drawn by Harold Coop. Image courtesy of Harold Coop.

“What a year to be illustrating! Rocket science was just being taken seriously, and rock and roll had arrived.” So recalls Harold Coop, who created the cover of the 1957 Capping Book. This annual publication started out in 1926 and soon became an important feature of capping. It included a list of the graduates and the programme of the capping show, but the main appeal lay in the rest of its contents, which consisted of cartoons, comic verse and various satirical articles, running to a total of 64 pages. There were also advertisements for many local firms, with ads especially created in a suitably comic tone. Students sold copies to the public as a fundraiser and it became a very popular publication, with a print run in the tens of thousand in the 1960s.

A good cover was of course critical to sales, and the Capping Book editors clearly went to considerable trouble to ensure they had something colourful, witty and topical to help sales. Often they employed a commercial artist for the job. For instance, the 1929 cover, featuring a stylish group of young men and women perusing the Capping Book, was by Peter McIntyre. McIntyre, then still in his teens, would become a very well-known New Zealand artist; he studied briefly at the University of Otago in the 1930s. Some 1930s covers were drawn by Russell Clark, then employed as an illustrator for Dunedin publishing firm McIndoe, and later also a respected sculptor. Marguerite Cotton, who drew the 1939 cover of a colourful Michael Joseph Savage clutching a “social security” diploma, boasted a Diploma of Fine Arts. Political leaders – national and international – often featured on covers of the late 1930s and early 1940s; earlier and later covers were more likely to highlight student life.

On John Hinds’s 1935 cover, the obligatory graduation cap appears on a skull. From the blogger’s collection.

But not all Capping Book covers were drawn by professionals: all three featured on this post were the work of Otago medical students. Harold Coop, who drew the 1957 cover, graduated in medicine in 1958. He got the illustrating job because others were impressed with the cover he had drawn previously for the medical student publication, Digest. During a long medical career, specialising in ophthalmology, he continued his interest in art; his largest public work is an illuminated entrance mural at the Auckland School of Medicine. From an earlier generation of medical students come some of the 1930s covers. John Hinds’s health science connection is evident in his choice of a skull as subject. He graduated from Otago in 1937, then became a specialist chest physician. Denis Rogers, who graduated in 1939, drew the 1937 cover; he later became well known as mayor of Hamilton. Of course, it wasn’t only medical students who could draw: the 1946 and 1947 covers were both by Pam Sinclair, an Otago zoology student.

The 1937 cover, by Denis Rogers, is most notable for its distinctive art deco-style font. From the blogger’s collection.

In the early 1980s the Capping Book and its cover became part of a major dispute, reflecting the battle between conservative and radical factions on campus. Some students (and others) were unhappy with the racist and sexist humour which had pervaded the publication for many years …. but that’s a story for another time.