Iconic buildings of Brisbane: Demolitions in the Joh era (part 2)

Part 2 of 3
‘All we leave behind is the memories’: Demolitions and political protests in the era of Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen

The Bellevue Hotel was arguably the most famous of the midnight demolitions (presumably due to the sheer number of people who turned up to watch it fall). However, it is important to remember that most members of the public had no physical or emotional connection to it, since it had been frequented primarily by politicians in its final years standing. On the other hand, Cloudland Ballroom was a venue that had been an important part of the lives of many people of all ages — from those who had attended the ballroom dances of its heyday (some of whom had started romances there), to those of the younger generation who had attended punk music concerts, university examinations and even Sunday markets.(19)

Image: John Oxley Library, State Library of Queensland

Once again, the Deen Brothers were contracted to demolish the historical landmark, situated in the inner-city suburb of Bowen Hills. Around six months before the demolition took place, the Courier-Mail had reported that Cloudland was for sale, with the speculated asking price being up to $2.5 million. At that time, the La Boite Theatre and Community Arts Network of Queensland was planning a thirties and forties revival ball to bring attention to the fact that the ballroom was under threat. According to organiser Bruce Dickson, the event was taking place ‘…in an effort to remind Brisbane people of the loss that would occur if it was destroyed…In other capital cities you could destroy 50 per cent of the historical buildings overnight and still have much more than we have in Brisbane’.(20)  In fact, Cloudland was commonly known around the city as the ‘Social hub of Brisbane’.(21)

Cloudland Ballroom was gone in less than an hour, although the Deen Brothers had expected the job to take a good part of the day. They had moved in with their machinery, as instructed, at 4.00am on 7 November 1982. This time, there were no crowds waiting in protest because very few people had managed to find out about the proposed demolition until it was too late. In fact, the first members of the public to become aware of what was happening were the nearby residents woken by the machinery. ‘“It woke the baby”, Mr Peter Blessing of Boyd Street said. “It’s frightening the way this can take place without any recourse at all. It beats me how they can do it”’.(22)

It wasn’t only the public who weren’t warned of the impending demolition of Cloudland — the state government and the building’s owner had also failed to notify the Brisbane City Council, from whom they required permission in order to legally carry out the demolition.(23) Although Cloudland was not owned by the government (it was owned by real estate promoter Peter Kurts), the media and the public still held Bjelke-Petersen and his Country Party personally responsible for failing to protect Brisbane’s heritage.(24) The maximum fine for demolishing National Trust-listed buildings was $200; the Cloudland penalty was only $125. Clearly, this measly fine was hardly a deterrent for individuals, let alone the state government.(25)

After the demolition of Cloudland, the public made it very clear that they were not happy with what had occurred. People from almost all corners of Brisbane and its surrounds had some kind of connection to the place. An anonymous interviewee stated:

I heard about Cloudland mostly through my elder siblings. It was also a very visible landmark. Everyone in Brisbane knew of Cloudland (as well as people from Redcliffe where my family lived). Its importance to Brisbane’s musical history was lost because of Joh’s pro-development stance. If Australia and, in this instance, Brisbane, was to develop a non-Indigenous history, it was vital that buildings such as Cloudland and the Bellevue Hotel be kept…We had so very few buildings in the first place that were of historical significance. Now it is all high rise with the few remaining buildings hidden in their shadows. We can only imagine how Cloudland and the other buildings might be considered today if they were still standing.(26)

 Image: John Oxley Library, State Library of Queensland

It seems a strange notion that a demolition company could become so well known (if not notorious), that almost everyone in Brisbane could name them. In fact, that is exactly what happened with the Deen Brothers, who were the infamous demolition firm contracted by the state government to demolish heritage-listed buildings up until Joh’s reign as Premier ended. They, along with Joh Bjelke-Petersen, were the target of public outrage when building after building was reduced to rubble.

The five brothers — Happy, Louie, George, Ray and Funny — were proud of their work, despite the outrage constantly directed towards them.(27) In actual fact, the Deen Brothers were simply doing what most of us do every day — their jobs. Being contracted by the state government meant a huge boost in the company’s profits, as well as the added ‘bonus’ of becoming a household name and consequently the most well-known demolition company in Queensland (and perhaps even Australia).

It turns out that the Deens were just as interested and concerned about local heritage as the rest of Brisbane’s residents. Several of them even became ‘tour guides’ in 1991, leading a group of architecture students on heritage walks around the city centre. Students from around Australia had travelled to Brisbane to participate as part of the Biennial Oceanic Architectural Education Conference.(28) The tour concluded at the former site of the Bellevue Hotel, which is now home to a five-storey building constructed by the Bjelke-Petersen government. George stated, ‘…I must admit a few memories come back as I stand here, because this was one of our best jobs’.(29) When asked why the brothers were leading the heritage walk, George answered, ‘We’re on a reconnaissance mission, looking for more sites. No seriously, we believe in preserving heritage too’.(30)

The Deen Brothers’ interest in Brisbane’s lost heritage didn’t stop with a one-off tour around the city. Also in 1991, the state government held an auction for the cast-iron lacework that had been removed from the Bellevue Hotel’s verandas before its demolition. Five pallet loads were sold, including one to George Deen for $400. It was planned that Happy Deen, who was building a house, would use the lacework on the exterior.(31) Since the Bjelke-Petersen era, the Deens have also had a hand in the demolition of other significant buildings in Brisbane, including Festival Hall after it was sold to Devine Limited in 2003.(32)

Public outrage in the Sir Joh era was something that the state government wanted to inhibit at all costs. Up until 1977, street marches and protests had been theoretically a legal right — although, in many cases the police force had been seen to be excessive, as was the case with the Springbok tour. When people began protesting the export of uranium from Queensland ports, Bjelke-Petersen declared that all street marches would be illegal from that point on. Rather than applying through the courts for a march permit, the public would need to apply through the police, who had the authority to grant (or, more accurately, not grant) a permit under the Traffic Act.(33) Joh announced that, ‘Protest groups need not bother applying for permits to stage marches because they won’t be granted’.(34)

People continued to protest illegally, and they were consequently arrested or, worse, bashed by the police. The term ‘police state’ became a reality, as senior police reported directly to the Premier.

…they knew I was always rock solid behind them and they reported to me who were the students of the university who were giving all the trouble…just as they did in the SEQEB electricity strike, everybody came to me for general direction.(35)  

Shortly after protesting had been outlawed, in October 1977 one march resulted in a total of 662 people being arrested.(36)

Continue to Part 3.

Endnotes
19. A McKenzie, ‘Ballroom became a landmark and more’, Courier-Mail, 8 November 1982.
20. ‘Cloudland for sale if price is right’, Courier-Mail, 30 May 1982.
21. ‘Social hub of Brisbane’, Sunday Sun, 2 October 1977.
22. A McKenzie, ‘Demolishers move in at 4am’, Courier-Mail, 8 November 1982.
23. Fisher, ‘“Nocturnal demolitions”’, p.57.
24. ibid, p.58.
25. ibid.
26. Anonymous, interview conducted by email, 1 May 2007.
27. K Meade, ‘Deens strike again, this time for heritage’, The Australian, 11 July 1981.
28. J Gallagher, ‘The Deens came to town to admire, not to demolish’, Courier-Mail, 11 July 1991.
29. Meade, ‘Deens strike again, this time for heritage’.
30. ibid.
31. ‘George picks up the pieces’, Sunday Sun, 13 August 1991.
32. B Williams, ‘We’re not rubble-rousers, say Deens’, The Courier-Mail, 23 March 2002.
33. R Evans, ‘Right to march movement: King George Square’, in R Evans and C Ferrier, Radical Brisbane: An Unruly History, Melbourne, 2004, p.294.
34. Sunday Mail, 4 September 1977, p.1, quoted in Clare Williamson, ‘Keep in step: The rise of political posters in Brisbane’, Signs of the Times: Political Posters in Queensland, Brisbane, 1991, p.4.
35. Evans, ‘Right to march movement: King George Square’, p.295.
36. L Finch, ‘DIY defiance: Political posters during the Bjelke-Petersen era (1968–87)’, in L Seear and J Ewington, Brought to Light II: Australian Art 1966–2006, Brisbane, 2006, p.113.