From surgeon to student: a residential history of 86 Queen Street

Tags

flatting, philosophy, politics

This post was researched and written by University of Otago history student Bree Wooller in 2017.

86 Queen Street 2016. Photographed by Bree Wooller.

North Dunedin has not always been occupied by students. For most of its history it has been just another suburb. Now, the houses are crumbling, and we risk losing the heritage and character that has become iconic to the area.

The gold rush of the 1860s made Dunedin the richest and most highly populated province in New Zealand.[1] This influx of wealth influenced the building of large, elegant, houses along the town belt. In 1880, David Henderson built a house at 86 Queen Street. In its early years 86 Queen was considered a charming, first-class, modern residence.[2] The early occupants were wealthy; regular adverts posted in the local papers look for domestic help, and furniture auctions reveal the occupants lavish lifestyle.[3] Walnut pianos, marble vases, and oil paintings were common furnishings in 86 Queen Street at the time.[4]

Professor Salmond had a brief occupancy till his death in 1917. Photographed by Morris, 1914. Image courtesy of Hocken Collections, P2018-013-005.

John Laing, a ‘foreign agent,’ owned the house from 1909 to 1924. He lived there with his wife Kathleen, son John Carroll, and daughter Katherine.[5] John Carroll Laing was killed in action in Italy, 1943.[6] Professor William Salmond, known for his position on the chair of mental and moral philosophy at Otago University, appears to have resided at the house for a brief amount of time up until his death in 1917.[7] Kathleen Laing’s brother, Dr Francis Hotop, a surgeon at Dunedin Hospital lived with the family for a period around 1922.[8] Their father, Lewis Hotop, a pharmacist and three-time Mayor of Queenstown, was also living at the residence until his death in 1922.[9]

House Interior 2016. Contrast of modern repairs and older features in balusters and stained window panes. Photographed by Bree Wooller, July 2016.

A new upstairs room was added in 1913, electricity was connected during the renovations.[10] In 1926, a garage was added at the front of the house.[11]

90 years ago, Dunedin was feeling the effects of the Great Depression.[12] Large houses along the town belt became too hard to maintain during this economic downturn, most were split into multiple dwellings. In the late 1930s, 86 Queen Street was split into a top and bottom flat.[13]

The house was rented in this period by a fast-changing array of occupants. Tenants included Miss Anna Glover, a spinster, who lived in the top flat 1940 to 1946, and an engineer named David Jack, who lived in the bottom flat from 1939-41.[14] The flat was owned by a retired salesman, Thomas McGoldrick, from 1944 till his death in 1969.[15] In 1958, the iconic yellow roughcasting replaced the houses traditional wooden exterior, making it resemble its present-day appearance.

Between 1969 and 1979, 86 Queen Street was owned and occupied by Richard Mulgan and his wife Margaret.[16] Mulgan was a professor of political studies at Otago University, known for his role on the New Zealand Royal Commission of 1985, which recommended the adoption of an MMP political system. Mulgan converted 86 Queen back to a single house, and remodelled the kitchen in 1976. From 1979, the flat was owned and occupied by Duncan Roper and his wife Mirrel.[17] Duncan was a tutor at the university while residing in the house.

50 years ago, the university roll was on a steady climb, and the number of students wanting to flat was on the rise.[18] In 1956, 17% of the student population lived in flats, and this rose to 39% of students in 1972.[19]

Student Occupation at 86 Queen Street. Photographed by Bree Wooller, October 2016.

The beginning of student occupation at 86 Queen Street is ambiguous. Names and dates in an upstairs room suggest students were living in the flat from 2001, if not earlier. 86 Queen Street became known as “The Yeast Infection” in 2008.

In 2017, we face the continued issue of degrading student flats. Maintenance and care is needed to preserve old houses such as 86 Queen Street. Without this, many historic flats will be demolished. Along with them, aspects of student culture, and landmarks of the first settler’s Dunedin will be lost forever.

Notes

[1] Erik Olssen, A History of Otago (Dunedin, N.Z. : McIndoe,1984), 69.

[2] Park, Reynolds and Co, “Charming City Residence and Choice Piece of Ground” Evening Star (Issue: 11528), 20^th April 1901.

[3] Gow, “Wanted, Respectful General Servant”, Evening Star (Issue 11411), 1 December 1900.; Mrs Laing “Wanted, Young Lady”, Evening Star (Issue: 14150), 30^th October 1913.; Mrs George Mackie, “Wanted, Young Girl” Otago Daily Times (Issue: 19225), 16^th July 1924.

[4] Park, Reynolds and Co, “Superior Household Furniture”, Evening Star (Issue: 11528), 20^th April 1901.

[5] Laing, “Birth Notices”, Otago Witness (Issue 3060), 6^th November 1912; Wise’s New Zealand Post Office Directory, 1909-1924.

[6] Northern Cemetery, block 191, plot 86, 85. New Zealand, Cemetery Records, 1800-2007. Ancestry.com.

[7] “Auctions – Estate of the Late Professor Salmond” Evening Star (Issue 16422), 12^th May 1917.; Wise’s New Zealand Post Office Directory, 1917.

[8] Dr F. R. Hotop, “Professional Advertisement – Commenced Practice”, Otago Daily Times (Issue 18518), 31^st March 1922.  

[9] Hotop “Death Notice”, Otago Daily Times, (Issue 18673), 30^th September 1922.

[10] Electricity Records, 3^rd July 1913. Register No. 3329. Dunedin City Council Archives.

[11] Building Plans, 1926. No. 8788. Dunedin City Council Archives.

[12] Olssen, 90.

[13] Electricity Records, 24^th June 1940. Register No. 32313. Dunedin City Council Archives.

[14] Wise’s New Zealand Post Office Directory, 1940, 1942, 1943, 1946.; Electricity Records Register No. 32313.

[15] Anderson Bay Cemetery, block 259, plot 27. New Zealand, Cemetery Records, 1800-2007. Ancestry.com; Electricity Records Register No. 32313; Wise’s New Zealand Post Office Directory, 1947, 1950-1, 1953-4, 1955.

[16] Dunedin, Otago, 1978. New Zealand Electoral Rolls, 1853–1981. Auckland, New Zealand: BAB microfilming. Microfiche publication, 4032 fiche. Ancestry.com.

[17] Dunedin, Otago, 1981. New Zealand Electoral Rolls, 1853–1981.

[18] Debby Foster “No Mixing By Students” in Tower Turmoil: Characters and Controversies at the University of Otago, ed. Time Keepers. (Dunedin: Department of History, University of Otago, 2005) 129

[19] Sam Elworthy, Ritual Song of Defiance: A Social History of Students at the University of Otago, (Dunedin: OUSA, 1990), 199.

Bibliography

Auckland Museum Online Cenotaph. J C Laing. Record: C28301, Service Number: 600485.

Building Plans, No. 8788. Dunedin City Council Archives.

Evening Star. Dunedin, New Zealand, 1 December 1900 – 12 May 1917.

Electricity Records, 3^rd July 1913. Register No. 3329. Dunedin City Council Archives.

Electricity Records, 24^th June 1940. Register No. 32313. Dunedin City Council Archives.

Elworthy, Sam. Ritual Song of Defiance: A Social History of Students at the University of Otago. Dunedin: OUSA. 1990.

Foster, Debby. “No Mixing By Students.” In Tower Turmoil: Characters and Controversies at the University of Otago, edited by Time Keepers. Dunedin: Department of History, University of Otago. 2005.

McLeod, Catherine. “Halls of residence in the 1960s: curfews, couples and controversy.” In Tower Turmoil: Characters and Controversies at the University of Otago, edited by Time Keepers. Dunedin: Department of History, University of Otago. 2005.

New Zealand Electoral Rolls, 1853–1981. Auckland, New Zealand: BAB microfilming. Microfiche publication, 4032 fiche. Ancestry.com.

New Zealand, Cemetery Records, 1800-2007. Ancestry.com.

Olssen, Erik. A History of Otago. Dunedin: McIndoe, 1984.

Otago Daily Times. Dunedin, New Zealand, 31 March 1922 – 16 July 1924.

Otago Witness, Dunedin, New Zealand, 17 March 1898.- 6 November 1912.

Professor W. Salmond, by Morris Phot, 1914. Hocken Collections (c/nF189/1)

Wise’s New Zealand Post Office Directory, 1898-1955. New Zealand, City & Area Directories, 1866-1955. Microfilm publication, 921 fiche. Anne Bromell Collection. Ancestry.com.

Lodgings and landladies

Tags

1870s, 1880s, 1890s, 1900s, 1910s, 1920s, 1930s, 1940s, 1950s, 1960s, 1970s, accommodation, boarding houses, flatting, lodgings, women

Many homes near the campus took in a lodger or two, and larger buildings might become boarding houses. This detail of Forth Street from a 1925 photograph demonstrates the range of housing close to the university – many of these later became student flats. Image courtesy of the Alexander Turnbull Library, The Press (newspaper) negatives collection, reference 1/1-008298-G.

One of the most important characters in student life during the university’s first century was not a member of the university at all, but that notorious figure, the landlady. Original plans for the current Dunedin campus, occupied by the university from the late 1870s, included residential accommodation for both students and professors. However, due to lack of funds the intended ‘boarding establishment’ was dropped, along with some of the staff accommodation (four houses for professors did go ahead – these are now known as Scott/Shand House and Black/Sale House). Students from out of town had to find their own place to live. Independent flatting was unheard of in the university’s first 50 years, and even after the churches set up residential colleges (Selwyn in 1893, Knox in 1909 and St Margaret’s in 1911), private boarding appealed to many as a cheaper option. Local newspapers from the late-19^th and early-20^th centuries include numerous ads from students looking for board, plus a smaller number advertising rooms specifically for students.

We know sadly little about the women who provided this essential service. Some local families had one spare room they rented out to help the household coffers, but many landladies were widows or single women who offered several rooms to lodgers, this being their only source of income. If the premises were large enough – some housed around 10 people – this would be termed a boarding house. An 1884 street directory lists several boarding houses close to the campus: Mrs Henderson Morrison and Mrs Eliza Fisher had boarding houses in Albany Street, Mrs Isabella Maffen in Clarendon Street, Mrs Mary Coles in Dundas Street, Mrs Lucy Stuart in Union Street, and Mrs Margaret Maher in Leith Street; Charles Crapp, also in Leith Street, was one of the few male boarding house keepers. Of course, at that early date, when Otago had just 120 students, many of their boarders were working men and women. As the university grew, students became a larger part of the accommodation market and landladies advertised specifically for them. Caledon House was providing accommodation in Albany Street by the mid-1870s; it provided ‘every convenience’, including harmonium and bath, according to one 1881 advertisement. This and earlier ads made no mention of students, but by 1896 it was listed by then-landlady Mrs Johnston as ‘Private Board and Residence; convenient for students; every home comfort; terms moderate’.

The standard of boarding accommodation varied. In 1890 medical students Charles Hector and Bartholomew Wilford, both from Wellington, boarded with Mrs Taylor. In the manner of every generation of concerned parents, Charles’s father was unhappy to discover him ‘hard at work in a cold room – no fire’, when visiting town. Bart Wilford became ill with rheumatic fever shortly afterwards. He and Charles apparently shared a room, and Bart was moved to the sitting room with a nurse to care for him, while Charles was sent by his father, perhaps concerned for the spread of infection, to other lodgings. When Bart developed possible symptoms of typhoid, Hector’s father wrote to his wife: ‘I have told Charlie that he must not go back to Mrs Taylor’s again. The back premises are not what they should be’ (a discreet reference to the toileting arrangements). Sadly, Bart Wilford died soon afterwards of his acute rheumatic disease.

Ads for student lodgers from the Otago University Review, May 1900.

In 1932 the university council established a new board of control with council, staff and student reps; though prompted by disciplinary issues it was concerned for the well-being of students and its sub-committees included one for lodgings. That committee compiled a list of ‘approved’ lodgings and took some responsibility for their conduct and the matching of students with rooms. Long-serving physics lecturer Agnes Blackie chaired the lodgings committee for some years and recalled the procedure. ‘In early December the chairman visited the approved lodgings to find out about probable vacancies. The landladies would almost unanimously declare that nothing on earth would induce them to take students again. A second visit in January would find them cheered up again and willing to re-enter the fray’. Though Blackie was sometimes called on to make peace between landlady and lodgers, she found complaints about student boarders were rare. She developed considerable respect for these women: ‘I came to have a kindly feeling for the landladies; many of them were battle-scarred veterans who had conducted lodgings for many years, terribly over-worked, but very proud of their past students and what they had done in life’. After Blackie’s stint, the administration of the lodgings committee was taken over by a part-time lodgings registrar; this later evolved into the student accommodation office.

Students were not always easy lodgers. In a 1953 publication on residential halls, Harold Turner pointed out that a shortage of good private accommodation was partly students’ own responsibility: ‘The householder whose peace was disturbed at 3 o’clock by lodgers returning from a party, who finds his electric heater left on all night, the bedding burnt by cigarettes, ink splashed on the furnishings, bicycles repaired in the bedroom or his lodger in bed with his boots on, will not be inclined to accept students the following year’. A word of advice appeared in the 1946 Otago University Review: ‘Suppose you get something (wherein at home you would only kennel an ill-favoured cur), then let tact and discretion be your motto. Don’t comment audibly on the odd-looking whiskery old goat in the picture above the mantelpiece – it is probably the relict’s late lamented. Also, take your boots off when you pinch her coal, for be you never so scientific, you cannot explain that keeping the light burning till 2 a.m. makes you an economic proposition at fifty shillings a week’.

Some fortunate lodgers could enjoy ‘all the comforts of home’, but many experienced frustrations with ‘petty restrictions and nagging concerning the use of various facilities’. There was often, noted Turner, ‘inadequacy in the physical conditions, in the lighting, heating, provision for privacy or for quietness for study’. This was, of course, the payback for cheap accommodation. That cheapness was important, because it opened the world of university education to people of humbler means. The working class origins of most landladies also played a role in keeping students from middle class or more privileged backgrounds in touch with the concerns of working people as they dined at their table each day. Most landladies provided regular cooked meals and this was a big convenience for students.

As the number of places in residential colleges grew and flatting became popular, private board began a terminal decline and the landlady became a rare beast. Flats might be just as cold, dark and noisy as a boarding house, but they offered a new level of freedom, which became an increasing priority for young people. Boarding places couldn’t keep up with the growing student roll anyway. There was a ‘diminishing number of old fashioned land ladies’, noted the 1965 accommodation office report, though there was always a response to university appeals to the public to take in boarders. That year 12% of all Otago students were living in private board, down from 17% in 1957; by 1975 the number had plummeted to 3%.

‘Your typical landlady can be classified under two headings – a) Avaricious. b) Maternal’, wrote a 1940s student. Some were eccentric, some irritating, and others much loved. Do you have any stories to share of landladies? I’d love to hear more personal stories about these great characters from Otago’s past!

Castle Flats and Union Court

Tags

1930s, 1970s, 1980s, flatting, human nutrition, international students, physical education, Toroa

Union Court from Union Place, photographed by Ali Clarke, August 2014.

From refined apartments to student flats to university offices, the building now known as Union Court has seen many changes. There are few university buildings dating from the 1930s – others are the former Queen Mary Maternity Hospital in Cumberland Street (now home to the School of Surveying and Department of Marine Science) and one wing of Cumberland College (formerly the Dunedin Hospital Nurses Home) – so the art deco style of the period is rare around campus. This two-storey brick building presents a dramatic contrast to the adjacent large wooden villas and the multi-storey concrete 1970s Science I Building opposite.

The building dates from 1930 and was a project of some innovative property developers, Castle Buildings Ltd. The company included builders Frank Lawrence and George Lawrence, who carried out the construction, and various Dunedin businessmen, including a quarry owner, a tannery manager, an accountant and two butchers. They set up with a capital of £8000, apparently with the sole purpose of financing this project. The Evening Star commended the project because it had, among other things, “helped considerably to keep a large staff of men in constant work”: this was, of course, a time of economic depression. The architect, William Henry Dunning, had designed various well-regarded Dunedin buildings; the Star suggested that his involvement was “sufficient in itself to guarantee the Dunedin public something of no mean order”. (There is an interesting piece about another of his designs, Barton’s Buildings, on the Built in Dunedin blog).

The building was originally named Castle Flats and included 14 self-contained flats, mostly with 2 bedrooms, built around a courtyard. Two separate blocks were connected by “well-fitted washhouses and archways.” Purpose-built flats were rare in Dunedin at the time, but the Star believed that the “demand for residential flats planned on modern lines is increasing daily in view of the great difficulty in obtaining a dwelling at a moderate price within the city.” These were no cheap or poky apartments, being “artistically designed, and beautifully finished,” with rooms spacious and well lit and tiled fireplaces in living rooms. The target market was “Varsity graduates and professional men whose near abode to the University class rooms is so necessary.”

The front entrance of Union Court, looking through to the courtyard. Photographed by Ali Clarke, August 2014.

At least one early resident worked at the university: Dr Morris Watt, who lived in Flat 6 for a few years, lectured in bacteriology at the medical school. But most of the flats were occupied by people with no obvious link to the university: 1932 residents included a police sergeant, a warehouseman, a clerk, an insurance manager, a couple of railway employees, and various single and widowed women (street directories of the day assigned them no occupation). In 1950 Flat 6 was the home of Sister Mary Ewart, a former deaconess of Knox Church. Other residents at that time included musician Rodney Pankhurst, teacher Rae Familton, Victor Castleton, who was manager of the Octagon Theatre, civil servant Augustine McAlevey, driver Alex Borrell, and various people without occupations listed. Elizabeth Noble lived in Flat 12 for at least 20 years.

By the 1970s, the Castle Flats building was becoming rather run-down. In 1977 it was purchased by the Otago University Development Society, founded in 1948 for “the rendering of assistance and support to the University of Otago”. Until it wound up in 2002, the society raised money for various university projects. It also invested in buildings – including student accommodation – which would help the university. As an extensive renovation programme to Castle Flats began, society president Maurice Joel suggested that they would “provide pleasant and comfortable accommodation, primarily for staff, and are ideally situated at the centre of the complex.” But by 1978 the society was finding that there was great demand for all its properties from students; the 1979 report commented that Castle Flats were “particularly valuable as accommodation for married post-graduate students from overseas.”

Soon most of the flats were occupied by international students. Some lived there with their families, while others shared with fellow students. OUSA president Jon Doig noted in 1988 that this was a “supportive environment” for students from overseas, who were “often under great financial hardship” and had “trouble finding other flats of suitable standard and price.” A list of 1988 tenants is dominated by Indian, Arabic and Chinese names; most of the residents were undergrads at the university or polytech. Doig was acting as an advocate for those students, who were about to lose this accommodation option. By the late 1980s the rapidly-growing university was desperate for space. In early 1988 the university asked the development society for use of one of the flats for “a university related business venture,” but by the end of the year wanted the entire building for the mushrooming Commerce Division, whose new building was not completed until 1992.

Since the Otago University Development Society’s sole object was to assist the university, it was not about to turn down such a request. Accordingly, late in 1988 the university purchased the building for around $365,000, a price determined by an official valuation. It was converted into offices, and later the university added an extension at the back (facing the University Union), designed to blend seamlessly in style with the original building. These days the building, now known as Union Court, is occupied by the Department of Human Nutrition, the School of Physical Education, Sport and Exercise Sciences, and the administrative offices of the Division of Sciences. Meanwhile, there were plenty of international students looking for accommodation. In 1996 the university opened a new place for them in upgraded blocks of flats in Queen Street. Toroa International House, as it was known, provided self-catering flats in a supportive environment complete with communal areas and computer facilities (it is now Toroa College).

Do you have any stories to share of Castle Flats/Union Court? I’d especially love to hear from anybody who lived there when it was an international student community. I’m also on the lookout for earlier photographs of the building!

Looking from the west towards Union Court. Photographed by Ali Clarke, August 2014.

Promoting Otago, 1980s-style

Tags

1980s, film, flatting, promotion

A screenshot from the film ‘Learning is a way of life,’ courtesy of the Hocken Collections, University of Otago Higher Education Development Centre films, MS-4104/003. Copyright University of Otago.

In 1981, following 25 years of a growing or, at worst, stable roll, the University of Otago faced a decline in student enrolments. As the northern universities continued to grow, Otago dropped from 7004 students in 1980 to 6825 in 1981, and would drop again to 6739 in 1982. At a time when travel and accommodation costs were rising rapidly, Otago, which drew the majority of its students from out of town, was at a disadvantage. Adding to its woes was the government’s new Tertiary Assistance Grants Scheme, introduced in 1980 to replace the old student bursary system. The new scheme was less generous, and students did not discover whether or not they had been approved for the “hardship” addition to the basic grant until well into the year; many were turned down. Some potential students were not willing to risk penury and Otago’s enrolments suffered.

The university was not about to take this lying down. Attempts to persuade government to amend its student funding policies proved unsuccessful, meaning the university’s promotional activities became critically important. To attract future students, it produced “attractive colour brochures” about its various degree courses and its residential colleges. It also broadened its promotional efforts with an exciting new venture, the film Learning is a way of life: an introduction to student life at Otago University. The Hocken has recently digitised the 16mm films in its collections, and I’m delighted to be able to share some excerpts on this blog (the film remains copyright to the University of Otago).

Learning is a way of life was produced in-house by the Higher Education Development Centre’s AV production centre, with a budget of $11,700 (including distribution costs). Planning began early in 1981, with a committee of four: HEDC director David Teather, Robert van der Vyver (the film’s producer), English professor Colin Gibson (who wrote the script), and university liaison officer Ian Page. Music professor John Drummond composed the bouncy soundtrack, performed by members of the music department. The budget included two hours of helicopter hire for the opening aerial shots.

Though scripted, the film was based on the experiences of five real students: Peter Griffiths (a med student), Amanda Ellis (arts), Diana Carson (commerce), Graham Mandeno (science) and Joan Parker (education). They were clearly selected to represent a wide range of students. While Ellis was a fresher learning her way around campus, Griffiths was in his third year and a sub-warden at Unicol. Parker (who doesn’t appear in these excerpts) was a mature student with children at school.

Titles and opening scenes:

Orientation:

The “terrific” new clubs and socs building:

The joys of flatting:

Around the University Union:

 

I’ve selected some general scenes of student life to show here, but the 33-minute film also featured lectures, tutorials, field work, music and drama productions, along with a few scenes of the Dunedin shops and entertainment venues. It closed with scenes from graduation.

The film screened on nationwide television in June and September 1982, and there was also a showing at the Dunedin Public Library. By November more than 30 copies had been sold or loaned to schools or individuals. But how successful was the university’s first major promotional effort? Enrolments jumped by 350 in 1983 and by just over 200 more in 1984; by the end of the 1980s growth had accelerated and Otago had over 10,000 students. As the 1985 university newsletter commented, Otago was back to the familiar problem of “a rising roll and a limited budget.” It is difficult to measure what influence the film may have had on enrolments. I’m not convinced that the scenes of Amanda’s hostel room would have drawn anybody here! If you saw this film and it helped sway your decision to come to Otago, I’d love to hear from you.

Otago’s promotional efforts of the early 1980s started something. Competition between tertiary providers was heating up as free market economics gained influence. “This is a competitive world and Otago’s promotional efforts triggered off activity in some of the other universities,” noted the staff newsletter in 1985. Media and communications accelerated in importance and various campaigns have since sought to grow Otago’s “place in the world,” as one slogan put it.

Learning is a way of life was, in the 1980s, an innovative and sophisticated way to market the University of Otago in response to a crisis in enrolments. Though it cannot have been the intention of its creators, it is now a wonderful historical snapshot of life at Otago at that time. I hope it brings back happy memories for some viewers!

Update – 13 October 2014

For those who would like to see the entire half-hour film, I’m very happy to say it is now available on the Hocken Collections YouTube channel (in 3 separate parts) – https://www.youtube.com/channel/UChzpcDq9VcuDLMXaoJHklBQ

 

 

 

Naming flats

Tags

1930s, 1950s, 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, 2000s, 2010s, flatting, music, orientation

The Mouse House, photographed in 1991. Image courtesy of Sarah Gallagher.

From the “Bach” of the 1930s to “Gran’s Place” of the 2010s, Otago students have developed quite a tradition of naming their flats. For the past ten years or so, Sarah Gallagher has been recording and researching this phenomenon, and has a book about it planned. Sarah, who is a librarian at the Health Sciences Library in her other life, runs a blog, a facebook page and a twitter account about the Dunedin Flat Names Project, and you can read much more about it there.

Sarah says that the naming of flats, though not peculiar to Dunedin, doesn’t occur on such a large scale anywhere else in New Zealand. Perhaps it is a self-perpetuating phenomenon! Some names have persisted for decades, while others come and go and their origins have been lost.

The Bach, at 208 Leith Street, was established by a group of bachelor divinity students in the 1930s. Flatting was rare in that period, and students from out of town who couldn’t afford to live in a residential college generally lived in some sort of boarding situation, often a cheap room provided by a local landlady. The Bach provided a home to some university students alongside men studying at the Presbyterian Theological Hall, Knox College. It was a well organised community, but it was pretty crowded, with a dozen or so people squashed in three to a bedroom. It had a name plate, and also a crest and Greek motto, which translates to “because of poverty”.

As flatting became more common in the 1950s and 1960s, new flat names appeared on the scene. As remains the case today, some of these reflected the standard of the accommodation or the lifestyle of the residents. The Shambles was a well-known 1950s and 1960s party flat on the corner of St David and Great King Streets, where Scribes Bookshop is today. Among the many named flats of the 1970s were the Hobbit’s Hovel, the Slagg Heep (158 Dundas Street) and the Spanish Slum (16-18 London Street). In the 1990s Sarah herself lived in the Mouse House (888 Cumberland Street), a rundown flat so named because of all its vermin. The Shit House Chateau (47 London Street) was voted the worst flat in Dunedin in the students’ association’s 2012 awards. In an innovative project, the Chateau (as the Otago Daily Times politely names it), was rented by a group of students belonging to environmental group Generation Zero in 2013. Their goal was to tidy up the house and turn it into a healthy home as an inspiration to both landlords and students.

The DSIR in 2000. Image courtesy of Sarah Gallagher.

The Pink Flat, after its door was repainted in 2004. Image courtesy of Sarah Gallagher.

Of course, not all Dunedin student flats are rundown dives and there are many modern or renovated places on the rental market. But it is the older “character” buildings that tend to attract names. Many include subtle, or not so subtle, sexual references, such as the Cock and Swallow, while some refer to drinking exploits, such as the DSIR (Department of Student Inebriation Research). Others are more cultural or esoteric in origin. Pink Flat The Door at 3 Clyde Street, named in 1988 by a group of students including broadcaster Wallace Chapman, was a “freedom flat” inspired by Skinner’s philosophy of a free society. The door design refers to Pink Floyd’s classic album The Wall. Some names reflect the history of the building. From the late 1990s comes Bruce’s Beenjamin’ Butchery, located at 15 Ethel Benjamin Place and clearly visible from State Highway 1. The house used to be a butcher’s shop, and Bruce was the landlord. Others reflect the identity of the flatmates. The house at 40 Dundas Street, once upon a time known as the Greasy Beaver Lodge, has recently become the Embassy, complete with Samoan flag.

The Greasy Beaver Lodge in 2000. Image courtesy of Sarah Gallagher.

Ironically, one of today’s most famous Otago flats has no name. In 2006 a group of friends from Unicol moved into a flat at 660 Castle Street and became known as “the boys from 660”. When the band they formed made its first recording and needed a name, they selected Six60. The band has since gone on to great success, and recently returned to Otago to perform at 2014 orientation, attracting what is claimed as the biggest crowd in O-week history.

Sarah’s project is clearly shedding new light on the fascinating cultural history of Otago student life. Have you got any stories of named flats to share, either with her or here?