Academic literature on the topic 'Gardeners South Australia biography'

John Carne Bidwill was born in 1815 in England and died in Queensland in 1853. His short life is relevant to Australia's garden history, botany, the horticultural use of Australian plants in European gardens and the colonial history of Sydney, New Zealand, Wide Bay and Maryborough. He may have been the first to introduce plant breeding into Australia. In a short life, and working in his spare time, he contributed more than many full-time and longer-lived horticulturists. This included discovering new species, crossing new hybrids (specific and inter-generic), and propagating and promulgating plants for the nursery trade and gardeners. His efforts are marked by his name gracing many Australian and New Zealand plants, exotic plant hybrids and modern suburbs of Sydney and Maryborough. This brief biography outlines Bidwill's time in Australasia and Queensland.

We are living in an age of concern for mental health and wellbeing. The objective of the research presented in this paper is to investigate the perceived health, social value and happiness benefits of urban agriculture (UA) by focusing on home and community food gardens in South Australia. The results reported in this paper are from “Edible Gardens”, a citizen science project designed to investigate the social value, productivity and resource efficiency of UA in South Australia. Methods include an online survey and in-field garden data collection. Key findings include: dominant home gardener motivations were the produce, enjoyment, and health, while dominant community gardener motivations were enjoyment, connection to others and the produce. Exploratory factor analysis revealed four key factors: Tranquillity and Timeout, Develop and Learn Skills, the Produce, and Social Connection. The key difference between home and community gardeners was an overall social connection. Although home gardeners did not appear to actively value or desire inter-household social connection, this does not mean they do not value or participate in other avenues of social connection, such as via social learning sources or by sharing food with others. The combined results from this research regarding health and wellbeing, social connection and happiness support the premise that engagement in home or community food gardening may provide a preventative or supportive role for gardener health and wellbeing, regardless of whether it is a conscious motivation for participation.

A new book, The Weatherman from Greenwich: Charles Todd – 1826 to 1910, promises to be a biography of Charles Todd, telecommunications pioneer in Australia. The title is, however, misleading. Most of the book is devoted to social influences in England and South Australia that may have shaped Todd’s early life. Todd’s early technical experience in England and his first activities in Australia are briefly sketched. Readers seeking a fuller account of Todd’s life and achievements should look elsewhere.

A new book, The Weatherman from Greenwich: Charles Todd – 1826 to 1910, promises to be a biography of Charles Todd, telecommunications pioneer in Australia. The title is, however, misleading. Most of the book is devoted to social influences in England and South Australia that may have shaped Todd’s early life. Todd’s early technical experience in England and his first activities in Australia are briefly sketched. Readers seeking a fuller account of Todd’s life and achievements should look elsewhere.

“Locating Lives”: The Inaugural Conference for the International Auto/Biography Association (IABA) Asia-Pacific Chapter took place at the Flinders University City Campus, Adelaide, South Australia, 1-3 December, 2015. The IABA Asia-Pacific Chapter stems from the central disciplinary association for auto-biography scholars, the International Auto/ Biography Association (IABA World), which is a multidisciplinary network that aims to foster the cross-cultural understanding of self and identity and location, and promote global dialogues about life writing/narrative. The IABA Asia-Pacific Chapter conference follows on from the successful IABA Americas and IABA European Chapters’ conferences, and aims to stimulate and promote new region-specific conversations and encourage regional participation in the IABA World conference. The goal of IABA Asia-Pacific is to develop scholarly networks between life narrative scholars and writers in the Asia-Pacific region to assist and support the practices of high-quality life narrative theory, practice, and pedagogy in the region (see IABA Asia-Pacific | International Auto/ Biography … https://iabaasiapacific.wordpress.com ).This article was submitted on May 7th 2017, and published on October 14th, 2016.

John White, Surgeon-General of New South Wales, is best remembered for his handsome book Journal of a voyage to new South Wales published in London during 1790. He was a native of County Fermanagh in northwestern Ireland. He became a naval surgeon and in this capacity was appointed to serve as surgeon on the First Fleet which left England for New South Wales (Australia) in 1787. While living in New South Wales, White adopted Nanberree, an aboriginal boy, and fathered a son by Rachel Turner, a convict, who later married Thomas Moore. John White returned to England in 1795, became a Fellow of the Linnean Society of London and was granted the degrees of Doctor of Medicine and Master of Arts by the University of St Andrews. White was married twice, and was survived by his second wife and his four children, including his illegitimate, Australian-born son, Captain Andrew Douglas White. Dr John White died in 1832 aged 75 and is buried in Worthing, Sussex, England.While serving as Surgeon-General at Sydney Cove, New South Wales, between 1788 and 1794 John White collected natural history specimens and assembled a series of paintings of plants and animals. After returning to England, White lent these paintings to botanists and zoologists, and permitted copies to be made. Thus, he contributed substantially to European knowledge of the indigenous flora and fauna of Australia.

The floor of the entrance to the Mitchell Library vestibule, which is part of the State Library of New South Wales, displays a stunning mosaic 1939-1941 reproduction of a seventeenth century map recording Abel Tasman’s two journeys of 1642 and 1644. It charts the west, north and southern coasts of the Australian continent, but is incomplete, thus representing the historical moment between an imagined Terra Australis Incognita, and the final survey of the east coast which presaged British colonisation. The original Tasman map, also held by the Mitchell library and currently undergoing restoration, has a strange and chequered biography. This paper explores the myths associated with what is known colloquially as the Bonaparte Tasman map, in honour of its last owner Prince Roland Bonaparte, a nephew of Napoleon. We examine its contested origins and role as an agent of Dutch East India Company imperial ambitions, relegation to forgotten cast-off when that empire collapsed, Bonaparte’s desire to gift it to the nascent Australian Commonwealth as a symbol of new nationhood, and the international subterfuge involved in its acquisition by not by the nation, but the State Library of NSW. Analysis of what was known of the map in the decades prior to its arrival in Australia challenges the conventional narratives, and we propose the biography of the Tasman map (and its embodiment in the Mitchell Library vestibule mosaic) is a study in imperialism, colonialism, federation, and power.

The term “coffee palace” was primarily used in Australia to describe the temperance hotels that were built in the last decades of the 19th century, although there are references to the term also being used to a lesser extent in the United Kingdom (Denby 174). Built in response to the worldwide temperance movement, which reached its pinnacle in the 1880s in Australia, coffee palaces were hotels that did not serve alcohol. This was a unique time in Australia’s architectural development as the economic boom fuelled by the gold rush in the 1850s, and the demand for ostentatious display that gathered momentum during the following years, afforded the use of richly ornamental High Victorian architecture and resulted in very majestic structures; hence the term “palace” (Freeland 121). The often multi-storied coffee palaces were found in every capital city as well as regional areas such as Geelong and Broken Hill, and locales as remote as Maria Island on the east coast of Tasmania. Presented as upholding family values and discouraging drunkenness, the coffee palaces were most popular in seaside resorts such as Barwon Heads in Victoria, where they catered to families. Coffee palaces were also constructed on a grand scale to provide accommodation for international and interstate visitors attending the international exhibitions held in Sydney (1879) and Melbourne (1880 and 1888). While the temperance movement lasted well over 100 years, the life of coffee palaces was relatively short-lived. Nevertheless, coffee palaces were very much part of Australia’s cultural landscape. In this article, I examine the rise and demise of coffee palaces associated with the temperance movement and argue that coffee palaces established in the name of abstinence were modelled on the coffee houses that spread throughout Europe and North America in the 17th and 18th centuries during the Enlightenment—a time when the human mind could be said to have been liberated from inebriation and the dogmatic state of ignorance. The Temperance Movement At a time when newspapers are full of lurid stories about binge-drinking and the alleged ill-effects of the liberalisation of licensing laws, as well as concerns over the growing trend of marketing easy-to-drink products (such as the so-called “alcopops”) to teenagers, it is difficult to think of a period when the total suppression of the alcohol trade was seriously debated in Australia. The cause of temperance has almost completely vanished from view, yet for well over a century—from 1830 to the outbreak of the Second World War—the control or even total abolition of the liquor trade was a major political issue—one that split the country, brought thousands onto the streets in demonstrations, and influenced the outcome of elections. Between 1911 and 1925 referenda to either limit or prohibit the sale of alcohol were held in most States. While moves to bring about abolition failed, Fitzgerald notes that almost one in three Australian voters expressed their support for prohibition of alcohol in their State (145). Today, the temperance movement’s platform has largely been forgotten, killed off by the practical example of the United States, where prohibition of the legal sale of alcohol served only to hand control of the liquor traffic to organised crime. Coffee Houses and the Enlightenment Although tea has long been considered the beverage of sobriety, it was coffee that came to be regarded as the very antithesis of alcohol. When the first coffee house opened in London in the early 1650s, customers were bewildered by this strange new drink from the Middle East—hot, bitter, and black as soot. But those who tried coffee were, reports Ellis, soon won over, and coffee houses were opened across London, Oxford, and Cambridge and, in the following decades, Europe and North America. Tea, equally exotic, entered the English market slightly later than coffee (in 1664), but was more expensive and remained a rarity long after coffee had become ubiquitous in London (Ellis 123-24). The impact of the introduction of coffee into Europe during the seventeenth century was particularly noticeable since the most common beverages of the time, even at breakfast, were weak “small beer” and wine. Both were safer to drink than water, which was liable to be contaminated. Coffee, like beer, was made using boiled water and, therefore, provided a new and safe alternative to alcoholic drinks. There was also the added benefit that those who drank coffee instead of alcohol began the day alert rather than mildly inebriated (Standage 135). It was also thought that coffee had a stimulating effect upon the “nervous system,” so much so that the French called coffee une boisson intellectuelle (an intellectual beverage), because of its stimulating effect on the brain (Muskett 71). In Oxford, the British called their coffee houses “penny universities,” a penny then being the price of a cup of coffee (Standage 158). Coffee houses were, moreover, more than places that sold coffee. Unlike other institutions of the period, rank and birth had no place (Ellis 59). The coffee house became the centre of urban life, creating a distinctive social culture by treating all customers as equals. Egalitarianism, however, did not extend to women—at least not in London. Around its egalitarian (but male) tables, merchants discussed and conducted business, writers and poets held discussions, scientists demonstrated experiments, and philosophers deliberated ideas and reforms. For the price of a cup (or “dish” as it was then known) of coffee, a man could read the latest pamphlets and newsletters, chat with other patrons, strike business deals, keep up with the latest political gossip, find out what other people thought of a new book, or take part in literary or philosophical discussions. Like today’s Internet, Twitter, and Facebook, Europe’s coffee houses functioned as an information network where ideas circulated and spread from coffee house to coffee house. In this way, drinking coffee in the coffee house became a metaphor for people getting together to share ideas in a sober environment, a concept that remains today. According to Standage, this information network fuelled the Enlightenment (133), prompting an explosion of creativity. Coffee houses provided an entirely new environment for political, financial, scientific, and literary change, as people gathered, discussed, and debated issues within their walls. Entrepreneurs and scientists teamed up to form companies to exploit new inventions and discoveries in manufacturing and mining, paving the way for the Industrial Revolution (Standage 163). The stock market and insurance companies also had their birth in the coffee house. As a result, coffee was seen to be the epitome of modernity and progress and, as such, was the ideal beverage for the Age of Reason. By the 19th century, however, the era of coffee houses had passed. Most of them had evolved into exclusive men’s clubs, each geared towards a certain segment of society. Tea was now more affordable and fashionable, and teahouses, which drew clientele from both sexes, began to grow in popularity. Tea, however, had always been Australia’s most popular non-alcoholic drink. Tea (and coffee) along with other alien plants had been part of the cargo unloaded onto Australian shores with the First Fleet in 1788. Coffee, mainly from Brazil and Jamaica, remained a constant import but was taxed more heavily than tea and was, therefore, more expensive. Furthermore, tea was much easier to make than coffee. To brew tea, all that is needed is to add boiling water, coffee, in contrast, required roasting, grinding and brewing. According to Symons, until the 1930s, Australians were the largest consumers of tea in the world (19). In spite of this, and as coffee, since its introduction into Europe, was regarded as the antidote to alcohol, the temperance movement established coffee palaces. In the early 1870s in Britain, the temperance movement had revived the coffee house to provide an alternative to the gin taverns that were so attractive to the working classes of the Industrial Age (Clarke 5). Unlike the earlier coffee house, this revived incarnation provided accommodation and was open to men, women and children. “Cheap and wholesome food,” was available as well as reading rooms supplied with newspapers and periodicals, and games and smoking rooms (Clarke 20). In Australia, coffee palaces did not seek the working classes, as clientele: at least in the cities they were largely for the nouveau riche. Coffee Palaces The discovery of gold in 1851 changed the direction of the Australian economy. An investment boom followed, with an influx of foreign funds and English banks lending freely to colonial speculators. By the 1880s, the manufacturing and construction sectors of the economy boomed and land prices were highly inflated. Governments shared in the wealth and ploughed money into urban infrastructure, particularly railways. Spurred on by these positive economic conditions and the newly extended inter-colonial rail network, international exhibitions were held in both Sydney and Melbourne. To celebrate modern technology and design in an industrial age, international exhibitions were phenomena that had spread throughout Europe and much of the world from the mid-19th century. According to Davison, exhibitions were “integral to the culture of nineteenth century industrialising societies” (158). In particular, these exhibitions provided the colonies with an opportunity to demonstrate to the world their economic power and achievements in the sciences, the arts and education, as well as to promote their commerce and industry. Massive purpose-built buildings were constructed to house the exhibition halls. In Sydney, the Garden Palace was erected in the Botanic Gardens for the 1879 Exhibition (it burnt down in 1882). In Melbourne, the Royal Exhibition Building, now a World Heritage site, was built in the Carlton Gardens for the 1880 Exhibition and extended for the 1888 Centennial Exhibition. Accommodation was required for the some one million interstate and international visitors who were to pass through the gates of the Garden Palace in Sydney. To meet this need, the temperance movement, keen to provide alternative accommodation to licensed hotels, backed the establishment of Sydney’s coffee palaces. The Sydney Coffee Palace Hotel Company was formed in 1878 to operate and manage a number of coffee palaces constructed during the 1870s. These were designed to compete with hotels by “offering all the ordinary advantages of those establishments without the allurements of the drink” (Murdoch). Coffee palaces were much more than ordinary hotels—they were often multi-purpose or mixed-use buildings that included a large number of rooms for accommodation as well as ballrooms and other leisure facilities to attract people away from pubs. As the Australian Town and Country Journal reveals, their services included the supply of affordable, wholesome food, either in the form of regular meals or occasional refreshments, cooked in kitchens fitted with the latest in culinary accoutrements. These “culinary temples” also provided smoking rooms, chess and billiard rooms, and rooms where people could read books, periodicals and all the local and national papers for free (121). Similar to the coffee houses of the Enlightenment, the coffee palaces brought businessmen, artists, writers, engineers, and scientists attending the exhibitions together to eat and drink (non-alcoholic), socialise and conduct business. The Johnson’s Temperance Coffee Palace located in York Street in Sydney produced a practical guide for potential investors and businessmen titled International Exhibition Visitors Pocket Guide to Sydney. It included information on the location of government departments, educational institutions, hospitals, charitable organisations, and embassies, as well as a list of the tariffs on goods from food to opium (1–17). Women, particularly the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union (WCTU) were a formidable force in the temperance movement (intemperance was generally regarded as a male problem and, more specifically, a husband problem). Murdoch argues, however, that much of the success of the push to establish coffee palaces was due to male politicians with business interests, such as the one-time Victorian premiere James Munro. Considered a stern, moral church-going leader, Munro expanded the temperance movement into a fanatical force with extraordinary power, which is perhaps why the temperance movement had its greatest following in Victoria (Murdoch). Several prestigious hotels were constructed to provide accommodation for visitors to the international exhibitions in Melbourne. Munro was responsible for building many of the city’s coffee palaces, including the Victoria (1880) and the Federal Coffee Palace (1888) in Collins Street. After establishing the Grand Coffee Palace Company, Munro took over the Grand Hotel (now the Windsor) in 1886. Munro expanded the hotel to accommodate some of the two million visitors who were to attend the Centenary Exhibition, renamed it the Grand Coffee Palace, and ceremoniously burnt its liquor licence at the official opening (Murdoch). By 1888 there were more than 50 coffee palaces in the city of Melbourne alone and Munro held thousands of shares in coffee palaces, including those in Geelong and Broken Hill. With its opening planned to commemorate the centenary of the founding of Australia and the 1888 International Exhibition, the construction of the Federal Coffee Palace, one of the largest hotels in Australia, was perhaps the greatest monument to the temperance movement. Designed in the French Renaissance style, the façade was embellished with statues, griffins and Venus in a chariot drawn by four seahorses. The building was crowned with an iron-framed domed tower. New passenger elevators—first demonstrated at the Sydney Exhibition—allowed the building to soar to seven storeys. According to the Federal Coffee Palace Visitor’s Guide, which was presented to every visitor, there were three lifts for passengers and others for luggage. Bedrooms were located on the top five floors, while the stately ground and first floors contained majestic dining, lounge, sitting, smoking, writing, and billiard rooms. There were electric service bells, gaslights, and kitchens “fitted with the most approved inventions for aiding proficients [sic] in the culinary arts,” while the luxury brand Pears soap was used in the lavatories and bathrooms (16–17). In 1891, a spectacular financial crash brought the economic boom to an abrupt end. The British economy was in crisis and to meet the predicament, English banks withdrew their funds in Australia. There was a wholesale collapse of building companies, mortgage banks and other financial institutions during 1891 and 1892 and much of the banking system was halted during 1893 (Attard). Meanwhile, however, while the eastern States were in the economic doldrums, gold was discovered in 1892 at Coolgardie and Kalgoorlie in Western Australia and, within two years, the west of the continent was transformed. As gold poured back to the capital city of Perth, the long dormant settlement hurriedly caught up and began to emulate the rest of Australia, including the construction of ornately detailed coffee palaces (Freeman 130). By 1904, Perth had 20 coffee palaces. When the No. 2 Coffee Palace opened in Pitt Street, Sydney, in 1880, the Australian Town and Country Journal reported that coffee palaces were “not only fashionable, but appear to have acquired a permanent footing in Sydney” (121). The coffee palace era, however, was relatively short-lived. Driven more by reformist and economic zeal than by good business sense, many were in financial trouble when the 1890’s Depression hit. Leading figures in the temperance movement were also involved in land speculation and building societies and when these schemes collapsed, many, including Munro, were financially ruined. Many of the palaces closed or were forced to apply for liquor licences in order to stay afloat. Others developed another life after the temperance movement’s influence waned and the coffee palace fad faded, and many were later demolished to make way for more modern buildings. The Federal was licensed in 1923 and traded as the Federal Hotel until its demolition in 1973. The Victoria, however, did not succumb to a liquor licence until 1967. The Sydney Coffee Palace in Woolloomooloo became the Sydney Eye Hospital and, more recently, smart apartments. Some fine examples still survive as reminders of Australia’s social and cultural heritage. The Windsor in Melbourne’s Spring Street and the Broken Hill Hotel, a massive three-story iconic pub in the outback now called simply “The Palace,” are some examples. Tea remained the beverage of choice in Australia until the 1950s when the lifting of government controls on the importation of coffee and the influence of American foodways coincided with the arrival of espresso-loving immigrants. As Australians were introduced to the espresso machine, the short black, the cappuccino, and the café latte and (reminiscent of the Enlightenment), the post-war malaise was shed in favour of the energy and vigour of modernist thought and creativity, fuelled in at least a small part by caffeine and the emergent café culture (Teffer). Although the temperance movement’s attempt to provide an alternative to the ubiquitous pubs failed, coffee has now outstripped the consumption of tea and today’s café culture ensures that wherever coffee is consumed, there is the possibility of a continuation of the Enlightenment’s lively discussions, exchange of news, and dissemination of ideas and information in a sober environment. References Attard, Bernard. “The Economic History of Australia from 1788: An Introduction.” EH.net Encyclopedia. 5 Feb. (2012) ‹http://eh.net/encyclopedia/article/attard.australia›. Blainey, Anna. “The Prohibition and Total Abstinence Movement in Australia 1880–1910.” Food, Power and Community: Essays in the History of Food and Drink. Ed. Robert Dare. Adelaide: Wakefield Press, 1999. 142–52. Boyce, Francis Bertie. “Shall I Vote for No License?” An address delivered at the Convention of the Parramatta Branch of New South Wales Alliance, 3 September 1906. 3rd ed. Parramatta: New South Wales Alliance, 1907. Clarke, James Freeman. Coffee Houses and Coffee Palaces in England. Boston: George H. Ellis, 1882. “Coffee Palace, No. 2.” Australian Town and Country Journal. 17 Jul. 1880: 121. Davison, Graeme. “Festivals of Nationhood: The International Exhibitions.” Australian Cultural History. Eds. S. L. Goldberg and F. B. Smith. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1989. 158–77. Denby, Elaine. Grand Hotels: Reality and Illusion. London: Reaktion Books, 2002. Ellis, Markman. The Coffee House: A Cultural History. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2004. Federal Coffee Palace. The Federal Coffee Palace Visitors’ Guide to Melbourne, Its Suburbs, and Other Parts of the Colony of Victoria: Views of the Principal Public and Commercial Buildings in Melbourne, With a Bird’s Eye View of the City; and History of the Melbourne International Exhibition of 1880, etc. Melbourne: Federal Coffee House Company, 1888. Fitzgerald, Ross, and Trevor Jordan. Under the Influence: A History of Alcohol in Australia. Sydney: Harper Collins, 2009. Freeland, John. The Australian Pub. Melbourne: Sun Books, 1977. Johnson’s Temperance Coffee Palace. International Exhibition Visitors Pocket Guide to Sydney, Restaurant and Temperance Hotel. Sydney: Johnson’s Temperance Coffee Palace, 1879. Mitchell, Ann M. “Munro, James (1832–1908).” Australian Dictionary of Biography. Canberra: National Centre of Biography, Australian National U, 2006-12. 5 Feb. 2012 ‹http://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/munro-james-4271/text6905›. Murdoch, Sally. “Coffee Palaces.” Encyclopaedia of Melbourne. Eds. Andrew Brown-May and Shurlee Swain. 5 Feb. 2012 ‹http://www.emelbourne.net.au/biogs/EM00371b.htm›. Muskett, Philip E. The Art of Living in Australia. New South Wales: Kangaroo Press, 1987. Standage, Tom. A History of the World in 6 Glasses. New York: Walker & Company, 2005. Sydney Coffee Palace Hotel Company Limited. Memorandum of Association of the Sydney Coffee Palace Hotel Company, Ltd. Sydney: Samuel Edward Lees, 1879. Symons, Michael. One Continuous Picnic: A Gastronomic History of Australia. Melbourne: Melbourne UP, 2007. Teffer, Nicola. Coffee Customs. Exhibition Catalogue. Sydney: Customs House, 2005.

Danielle Clode is an Adelaide-based author who has written on prehistoric megafauna, Pacific exploration, killer whales and bushfires. She writes children’s books, essays, fiction and popular zoology, which have won awards, fellowships and prizes too numerous to mention. Her latest book, at the time of writing, is The Wasp and the Orchid, a biography of Australian nature writer Edith Coleman. Danielle and I have known each other for some years, and we are currently working together on an edited book about first contact between Australian Aboriginal people and explorers. For details of her publications and career, see her website at danielleclode.com.auA graduate in zoology from Oxford University, Danielle has worked as a zookeeper and a museum researcher. Growing up on the Eyre Peninsula, South Australia, she spent some of her childhood travelling coastal Australia with her family by boat. Danielle teaches creative and academic writing and in all her work she is conscious of the importance of form and voice. In this interview I asked her about style, genre and technique in her writing, particularly The Wasp and the Orchid (2018), Voyages to the South Seas: In Search of Terres Australes (2007) and A Future in Flames (2010).We spoke at her home in the Adelaide Hills in June 2018, and I first asked her about the combination of styles in A Future in Flames, her book about the history, science and future impact of bushfires in Australia.

A study on Adelaide landscape designer Elsie Cornish who mostly worked in an English Arts and Crafts garden style that was interpreted for Australian conditions and the needs of her clientele. Influencing her stylistic designs was a philosophical understanding of the interconnection between house and garden and the need for the space to be designed as an integrated whole.
Thesis (M.L.Arch.) -- University of Adelaide, School of Architecture, Landscape Architecture and Urban Design, 2006.

In this thesis I argue that food and drink were of central importance to Don Dunstan throughout much of his political and private life. The conventional view of Dunstan always proclaimed that his passionate interest in food and drink was merely peripheral to his life. Food and drink were simply an aberration, of the same idiosyncratic order of importance as his song and dance routine with Keith Michell, his piano playing, or his reciting poetry from the back of an elephant. These various accomplishments were merely confirmation that Dunstan was different from other politicians. I argue that Dunstan was indeed different, but that the difference was rooted firmly in his life-long love affair with food and drink. I argue that his fascination with food and drink drove much of his reform agenda, that it helped his day-to-day survival, and that it provided him with the means of expressing his ove for others. Dunstan's 1976 cookbook announced his arrival as a devotee of gastronomy and furthers my argument that he helped to introduce and establish a new Australian cuisine. After Dunstan left political life in 1979 he tried to establish himself in other spheres, but it was his almost obsessive interest in all of the aspects of a gastronomic life that triumphed. In the final decade of Dunstan's life his long love affair with food and drink became a full-blown passion. I argue that, with his long-overdue adventure as a restaurateur, he finally became the complete Don Dunstan.
Thesis (Ph.D.)--School of History and Politics, 2004.

Douglas Henry Pike was born in China in 1908, the second of five children, whose Australian parents were missionaries with a Protestant interdenominational faith mission, the China Inland Mission. Following graduation from an English style mission boarding school at Chefoo in northern China, Pike came to Melbourne in 1924; and from 1926 spent twelve years jackerooing on various New South Wales country properties. He returned to Melbourne in 1938, trained for the ministry in a Churches of Christ College, graduated in November 1941, married Olive Hagger and was sent to Adelaide. During pastorates at Colonel Light Gardens and Glenelg he studied at the University of Adelaide for his BA. He achieved History Honours, resigned from the ministry, taught briefly in Adelaide and at the University of Western Australia then returned to Adelaide as Reader from 1950 to 1960. Pike obtained his MA, then the D. Litt. for Paradise of Dissent, a history of South Australia. During the 1950s he wrote a series of newspaper articles, ‘Early Adelaide with the lid off’. Douglas Pike (1908-1974) South Australian and Australian Historian. In 1960 he was appointed to the Chair of History at the University of Tasmania and published his second book, Australia: The Quiet Continent. In 1964 he moved to the Australian National University and commenced his pioneering task as founding editor of the Australian Dictionary of Biography. Therefore the most significant period of his working life in history and historiography covers the years from 1948 until his sudden illness in November 1973, and death in May 1974. The Second World War at first slowed but then stimulated the teaching and writing of history in Australia. Pike commenced his university studies during the war; his research and writing followed in the post-war period. His years in academia witnessed the establishment between 1946 and 1958 of four more universities in Australia, including the ANU, where he spent the last ten years of his life. However, apart from book reviews, obituaries in newspapers and journals, biographical paragraphs and the ADB, Pike’s contribution and significance to Australian historiography has been largely neglected. My thesis is based on personal interviews and correspondence with people who knew Douglas Pike, including family members, together with archival material from the Australian National Library and the universities where Pike worked. Printed sources include newspapers, journals, and Pike’s own published writings.
http://proxy.library.adelaide.edu.au/login?url= http://library.adelaide.edu.au/cgi-bin/Pwebrecon.cgi?BBID=1347424
Thesis (M.A.) - University of Adelaide, School of History and Politics, 2008

Douglas Henry Pike was born in China in 1908, the second of five children, whose Australian parents were missionaries with a Protestant interdenominational faith mission, the China Inland Mission. Following graduation from an English style mission boarding school at Chefoo in northern China, Pike came to Melbourne in 1924; and from 1926 spent twelve years jackerooing on various New South Wales country properties. He returned to Melbourne in 1938, trained for the ministry in a Churches of Christ College, graduated in November 1941, married Olive Hagger and was sent to Adelaide. During pastorates at Colonel Light Gardens and Glenelg he studied at the University of Adelaide for his BA. He achieved History Honours, resigned from the ministry, taught briefly in Adelaide and at the University of Western Australia then returned to Adelaide as Reader from 1950 to 1960. Pike obtained his MA, then the D. Litt. for Paradise of Dissent, a history of South Australia. During the 1950s he wrote a series of newspaper articles, ‘Early Adelaide with the lid off’. Douglas Pike (1908-1974) South Australian and Australian Historian. In 1960 he was appointed to the Chair of History at the University of Tasmania and published his second book, Australia: The Quiet Continent. In 1964 he moved to the Australian National University and commenced his pioneering task as founding editor of the Australian Dictionary of Biography. Therefore the most significant period of his working life in history and historiography covers the years from 1948 until his sudden illness in November 1973, and death in May 1974. The Second World War at first slowed but then stimulated the teaching and writing of history in Australia. Pike commenced his university studies during the war; his research and writing followed in the post-war period. His years in academia witnessed the establishment between 1946 and 1958 of four more universities in Australia, including the ANU, where he spent the last ten years of his life. However, apart from book reviews, obituaries in newspapers and journals, biographical paragraphs and the ADB, Pike’s contribution and significance to Australian historiography has been largely neglected. My thesis is based on personal interviews and correspondence with people who knew Douglas Pike, including family members, together with archival material from the Australian National Library and the universities where Pike worked. Printed sources include newspapers, journals, and Pike’s own published writings.
Thesis (M.A.) - University of Adelaide, School of History and Politics, 2008

Research Doctorate - Doctor of Philosophy (PhD)
This thesis argues that foreign and second language teaching productivity can only reach its proper potential when it is accorded priority, second only to language learner productivity, amongst the many competing productivities which are always asserted by stakeholders in educational institutions. A theoretical foundation for the research is established by examining the historical concept of productivity, and its more recent manifestation as knowledge worker productivity, especially as applied to teachers. The empirical basis of the thesis is sourced from a chronological series of twenty biographical case studies in language teaching venues in Australia, New Zealand, Oceania and East Asia. The biographical case study methodology, although rare in applied linguistics, is justified by reference to its wide and growing application in other fields of qualitative research. The case studies are analysed for common patterns of productivity, as well as teaching productivity inhibition or failure. It was affirmed across all of the case studies without exception that external parties could not control or even reliably predict what individual students might learn, and how well, from instances of instructed language teaching. This was regardless of the power of institutional players, external resources, curriculums or the teacher. Student belief in the immediate value of what was to be learned in a given lesson, and personal confidence in an ability to learn it were the most critical factors. Teaching productivity was found to turn, ultimately, on the teacher's ability to influence the probability of student learning. The teacher could best influence learning probability by enhancing student motivation. The most effective environments for teaching productivity were seen to be those where the teacher was professionally equipped and politically enabled to exercise judgements which maximized opportunities for student language learning productivity. A negotiated pact concerning both curriculum and method often proved effective, especially with mature students, and at times required some deception of institutional authorities. Empirically, the encouragement of reciprocal learning relationships between teacher and students was found to be powerfully enabling for language teaching productivity in the case studies. In many venues a small but effective minority of 'intimate learners' were also able to leverage their language learning productivity by forging more personal relationships with the teacher. The wider cultural paradigm within each of the countries represented in the case studies sanctioned different paths and limitations for both language learners and teachers, and hence was seen to influence teaching productivity in critical ways. It was found that under certain conditions, notably (but not exclusively) those prevailing in many East Asian educational institutions, that certification of foreign language skills had a higher cultural, employment and monetary value than the actual ability to exercise foreign language skills. A negative influence on teacher productivity in many of the case studies was an ignorance about language learning and teaching amongst institutional players. The disregard of language teacher professionalism was fed by a belief that being able to speak a language was all that was necessary to teach it, and reinforced by misinterpreting the meaning of test results. Related to this, an imbalance of power relationships between teachers or students with other institutional interests was consistently found to interfere with teaching and learning productivities. Overall, the model of productivity understood in institutions instanced by the case studies tended to reflect a 19th Century economic paradigm of capital, raw materials (students) and labour (dispensable classroom workers) rather than any more sophisticated grasp of knowledge worker productivity. It was demonstrated in the context of the case studies that productivity, and in particular knowledge worker productivity, is a complex concept whose facets require detailed analysis to arrive at a proper understanding of the role that foreign and second language teachers play in educational institutions.