Showing posts with label Robert. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert. Show all posts

Sunday, March 10, 2013

So... do you type-in here often?


It was a glorious Sunday morning, but I was feeling in far from magnificent form. I crawled out of bed with aching muscles, and a rather sore head. I was very tired after the week's adjustment to my new (old) job.

I caught up with some of the activity from the Typosphere online, while listening to the congregation of the Samoan community church about half a block away as they belted out harmonies that instantly made me feel I was on a tropical island somewhere. I then cooked up a breakfast and got some typewriters ready.

Mr Pinky Beecroft was the first to be added to the pile. He's a pink Lettera 22 which I've been readying as a gift to 'Baroness'. My friend Mars had made a tentative gesture that she was interested in coming, so I picked out my Script Royalite 220 for her. I then rounded off my collection with my chrome Royal, which was going to be its debut outing.


I thought I could bluff my way past the tiredness. But after looking at both Robert's photos, and others taken by Ms Jane I realised that I probably didn't carry off 'tired' with the grace and elegance that I thought I had.

Not to worry.

I got to the Breakfast creek hotel at a time approaching about 1:30. Loaded with typewriters and other bits, I did a quick cursory look around the hotel to find the museum room - but didn't quite seem to find it. As it turned out, I had. My understanding was that we'd had the room booked for just us. But they had shuffled in a few extra plastic tables - which were filled by patrons of the pub having their lunch. Some of which turned out to be Rob Messenger, John and Margaret. (I hope I got that spelling correct)

The pub was mostly standing room only. It was the first cool but sunny day that we'd had for a month, and the hoteliers were scrambling to find enough space to put everyone in the massive complex. People were fighting (politely) over parking spots in the car park - not to mention every disabled parking spot had been filled by cars that were missing the requisite sticker.

There was a little anxiety at first about setting out our machines in what appeared to be a room of the bar. But by the time I had laid out my three machines, and a few other people had put theirs on the table, it was pretty obvious that we were dominating the room.

Other patrons around us started to look confused, and oddly anxious themselves as we set up our glistening writing machines on the table. But they soon relaxed, and in fact some of them even came over and tried a few of them out!


I helped John get a handful of his machines out from the back of his car, and as I did a lady drove past me and called my name. I turned around and was greeted by a smiling face. "I'm Kate"! she said.

Kate drove off to find a parking spot, while I carried in Johns Visigraph machine. I walked through the complex with this heavy but beautiful piece of machinery cradled in my arms, while people gazed at me in surprise as I passed them. The looks were priceless.

Before long Steve Snow turned up with a handful of machines. He carefully placed a Corona 3 and a Corona 4 on the table, before unzipping a mushroom Lettera 22 that was in excellent condition, which he sat next to Mr Pinky Beecroft.

Kate had a small case on wheels, which she extracted a lovely Royal Deluxe out of. The machine still clung to the dust of its many years, but was actually in much better condition than the difficult to clean crinkle paint let on. The machine felt snappy and tight, and would probably scrub up to be an amazing little machine. But in its current state it was a charming machine. I'd never quite seen one line it before.

At the other end of the bench John's astonishingly beautiful Royal 5 flatbed was ruling the roost. This machine is in amazing condition. ...and someone had just slotted in a piece of paper. I couldn't help myself. I had wanted to try one of these for a very long time, and I have to say - I wasn't disappointed.

Definitely the Queen Royal, flanked by the prince and princess. 

John's Visigraph was also attracting a lot of attention. I myself had never seen a machine setup so beautifully. It typed very well too - with the exception of the missing 'e' from the type-stub.

Between them say my Chrome Royal P. My chrome machine looked so small and insignificant between them. But its shiny looks made it an unmissable machine. The customised keys also attracted a lot of attention - but I'll tell you more about this machine at a later date. (i.e. when it is actually finished)

Mr Pinky Beecroft seemed to be the darling of the show to the women that wandered past. Most of the visitors that we had drop onto a chair and start typing, almost invariably gave Pinky a go. Sure - they also had a go at other machines, but Pinky was never  close to being lonely for most of the day. Which was odd... because he wasn't the best to type on.

Rino's Hermes 3000 was there too. The BMX tyre repair seemed to have worked beautifully on it. I'm even inclined to try it on a machine or two of my own now. Or at least, when I have the time. The keyboard was quite a surprise though, and Rino suggested that it was German. But I wasn't quite so sure. I'm going to have to do a bit more research on this.

The Royalite 220 surprised a lot of people, and I saw Rino giving it a go on several occasions. On the other hand, the Everest Mod 90 surprised me with its magnificent feel. I loved it! It was a great machine. However it sadly drew short of being perfect (in my opinion) with its awfully long arcing carriage lever.

A young blond lady sat down at Pinky, and asked if she could give him a go. "Sure"! We replied almost unanimously. The lady pressed down on a key and nothing seemed to happen, so I simply told her "Give that key a good hit. Don't be shy of it"!

And so she did, and she was off and writing.

Or at least until she asked "Where's the return key"?

People seemed to be largely enjoying themselves. I got to meet new people. They got to meet each other, and Steve got some great advice on how to fix his Smith Premier machine.

Rino and Kate were both very interesting to chat to. 

And I got a book! Rino left me with a copy of his "Song logic - essays in Music" - which a cursory look at gave me the feeling that it will intelligently accompany some of the themes introduced in Craig Schuftan's "Hey Nietzsche! Leave them kids alone" book that I'd read a little while ago. I'm looking forward to spending some time with it.

Meanwhile..... 


There was knitting..... 
* * *

We had a few people drop in from the outside bar, the inside bar, and the other bars - to take a look. Some of them were even brave enough to sit at the keyboards and give it a try. My initial anxiety about being in such an exposed area turned out to make the day all the more enjoyable.

Eventually we packed up our machines and headed home. I brought my car around along side Robert's in the quickly emptying car park, and transferred a few machines that Rob had picked up from Scienceworks into the boot of my car. A large family wandered by and a small army of heads turned. Pointing at and IBM Selectric a woman announced to her children "That's what we used for a computer when I was a kid". It must have been the Selectric, as I very much doubt it would have been the Remington 7 that I was holding between my arms at the time.

 We'd decided to make this an annual event, so those who missed out this year, all I can say is: don't be such a pussy, and come next year. Although, we're probably not going to have it in a pub next time.

Soon everyone had driven off into the sunset. Ms Jane and I returned inside and got ourselves a nice breakfast creek dinner,  and by the time I got home I was exhausted. I left home with 3 typewriters, and came back with 7. Carrying them up the stairs into my house almost proved my downfall - literally. But I was still too excited not to have a bit of a play with the Remington 7.

But that's another project for another day.

Thursday, March 7, 2013

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Journey to Canberra - The Messenger Collection


I'd taken an RDO from work, but I still woke up at 5am. I collected a passenger and dropped them at work before I dropped my car into airport parking. The courtesy bus from the parking place was crammed with a Maori family heading to the international airport, and their baggage took up the entire luggage space at the rear of the bus, blocking all view out the back window.

It was actually quite cold for a Brisbane morning, but I knew it would be even colder in Canberra. I didn't care as I was too excited. It was going to be a short trip, but I was pretty sure this would be a worthwhile one.

Boarding the plane was relatively without fuss. I had an empty seat next to me on the plane, so I was able to just spread out and chill. I had packed light; I had a shoulder bag containing little more than a printout of my flight, my iPad, some headphones,  a camera and my wallet. Oh, and some house keys.

Before long I was on the tarmac of Canberra Airport and heading out the doors to the Taxi rank.

"Lovely day" I said to the driver.
"I long for these cold days" he said to me in a broad English accent. "Makes me feel more at home".
"Where are you from"? I inquired.
"New Delhi".

Canberra's like that. Nothing is quite as you'd expect. To any outsider that cared to look at Canberra - Australia's capital, you'd probably believe that we hated our politicians so much that we built a farm for them in the middle of no-where to keep them away from the rest of us. It's Australia's only capital city not on the coast, and it is miles away from the nearest interstate highway. It is truly out of the way from anywhere.

But it is also where Robert Messenger lives. Rob is probably Australia's greatest Typewriter blogger, and one of the most researched fellows on the subject I have ever come across. From what I could tell - his collection of typers was something amazing to behold so this exhibition was one I wanted to not miss.

And can I tell you.... It was worth the trip.

The entrance to the gallery was littered with dead machines and a steel catfish. No typers though. 

I arrived at the Gallery still unsure as to whether I would meet Robert or not, so I looked about to see what other exhibitions were running. It didn't take long to locate Robert's exhibition, as a chalkboard out the front of the gallery had nicely listed up the exhibitions currently running in the building as though they were todays specials at the local cafe. It felt quaint and warm. I whipped out my camera and documented a few scenes in the courtyard before going in. It was quite bustling, with a few senior citizens hovering about and a few other 'grey-nomads' in their grey-nomad uniforms, who were waiting for a tour group to start. 

Free entry? Excellent... 

The building was a modern construction and had clearly been built after I'd last been to Canberra. Like most of Canberra's galleries - and there's a lot of them - the building had been competently constructed, brilliantly designed, and felt lively and light. 

Robert's exhibition was placed in a room that looked as though it would have usually housed museum artefacts or sculptures. Both of which Robert's collection could potentially be described as. 

Whatever I was going to see this day, I knew I was in for a treat. This was largely the cream of Robert's collection crop. 

The exhibition itself was set up simply enough. Across one wall was Robert's collection, which was housed behind glass and positioned on floating shelves. The opposite wall had brief pieces of information that was Robert's biography - insofar as his history of him collecting and using typewriters. On the far wall from the door that I had entered through, a large plasma television played repeatedly the segment of the television show 'Collectors' that Robert had appeared in few years ago. on either side of the television were two tables that housed 3 Olivetti Lettera 32's, and the ominous IBM Selectric II that had been converted to a scientific keyboard. 

Rounding off the display were two cabinets in the middle of the room that displayed toy typewriters, ribbon tins, and a few other pieces of paraphernalia. 

Before I knew Robert as the blogger, or Robert as the typospherian, I had known of Robert as the collector. I had seen Robert on television when the episode of collectors he was in first went to air. In fact, I even discussed the episode with my Grandmother - who was still alive at the time, on the phone, as my Grandfather had been a callout typewriter repair man for Adler for many years. 

Of course, I did get to meet Robert in the end - but I blogged about that a little while ago over - HERE

And now here I was, standing in the midst of Robert's collection. And these machines were stunning.




I'd seen many of these machines online before. But to see them in person was magnificent. In a few ways I felt proud. I owned a handful of the versions of the machines that were on display in this cabinet myself, and I appreciated them all the more as a living piece of art the moment I saw them here.  

I could look at these machines from historical point of view - but largely that's not what this exhibition was about. The date of their birth seemed less important than artistry of the machines themselves. Every one of them felt as though you could take them off the shelf and put them on your desk and type with them right now. The only thing that stopped you accessing their inviting keyboards was a few sheets of glass. 

No doubt I could do that kind of typing when I got home. In fact I could do it then and there - and actually did! First by blogging from one of Robert's typewriters at the back of the room, and later by by using using some of Robert's machines at his home. I even the Bijou that Robert gave me a bit of a run while sitting at a table in the gallery. 







The mix of machines was just right. These machines were a marvellous selection of the old and modern. And they were absolutely amazing. Did I want any of these machines for my own collection? Every single one of them. 

Having several machines on display for others to use was a really nice touch. The amount of 'I was here' messages that I saw strewn across pieces of paper give me an impression that they had seen some serious tapping of keys at the hands of a much younger crowd. 

Type on me.... I dares ya. 

But was there a standout machine? 

This is a tough question - and I'm sure some of you will be a bit surprised by my completely subjective answer. 

I have a love of Art Deco styling and design. I also have just as strong a fondness for the conflicting - yet rather similar style of Art Nouveau. And while the Oliver 5 in Robert's collection stood out as a grand example of Nouveau, there were two machines that really grabbed my Art Deco loving attention. 

First, but not foremost - was Robert's 'Bing' typewriter. 


Its Deco stylings were cool and sophisticated, and despite the relatively down price nature of the machine, it had style in spades. 

But the machine that took my heart the most - would have to be Robert's Royal 1 flatbed. 


Under-lit and hidden away in a bit of an odd corner, this machine's style leapt out at you as you looked at it. No other machine I have seen to date has captured the era's design aesthetic so well. This photo doesn't do it justice, but I just took a look one look at it - and I was in love. A feeling for a machine that I hadn't had since I first clapped my eyes on an Oliver. 

I'd seen photos of these machines before, but never felt particularly impressed. But now seeing one with my own eyes I have to say - I was impressed.

Sitting there in the dark, I almost asked it if it had been fed any new paper or ribbons lately. It seemed so lonely, especially as it had only a Canon typestar to keep it company. 

There were many other outstanding machines in this collection, including a Gold Royal! I didn't even know Robert owned one. But there you have it. 

Very, very cool. And I thank Robert for sharing.

*   *   *

Later that day Robert loaded me up with a couple of magnificent machines before I left for the airport. However I hadn't brought with me a suitcase or bag to put them in. As such, I stuffed my camera into a small luggage bag and sent it into the luggage bay. Absurdly, my camera was probably worth considerably more than the two machines that were in my hands - but was also well insured. 

My plan had been - before I left Robert, to find a luggage shop at the airport and just buy a cheap bag. But alas.... Canberra airport was as bare as could be. The only thing it had was a coffee shop.

Waiting for the plane - with a bit of a snack, and two typewriters. 

Getting the machines through the airport and onto the plane was another matter entirely. They both got X-Rayed before I was asked by security to open them up. It was obvious this was more out of curiosity and boredom than anything, but they swabbed both machines for explosive residue. While I was standing there waiting for the result, the woman that had been assessing me (I got swabbed as well as the typewriters) started asking me about the typewriters. She was quite fascinated. 

Inadvertently I had to go back out of the secured area and back into the terminal. I had left my glasses on a chair on the other side, and could see them through the glass wall. This subsequently saw me returning back through security again. The smirking little skin-head that had previously been operating the metal detector was now on the X-Ray machine. He called over a Maori chap that was working with him to examine the 'threat' of these typewriters more closely. Fortunately I didn't need to call him a dickhead, because that's exactly what the Maori chap called him. 

I picked the typers off the conveyor and thanked the Maori guy. He gave me a thumbs up and asked; 'They're like, old school printers, right'? 
I gave him a smile and said "Typewriters, yeah"! 
"typewriters, yeah, that's it"! 
He looked away a little embarrassed, so I gave him a "Thanks for that mate, have a good one" and scurried on my way. 

A couple of passengers looked at me a bit awkwardly as I shoved the two cases into the overhead luggage. However no one seemed willing to comment. Before long I was on my way back to Brisbane with a plethora of photos, two new project typers to repair, and a very satisfied feeling about meeting a charming, passionate and intelligent man; and his a great selection of typewriters. 

..... Also I had a window seat, and was just about to see an amazing dusk light show over the plane's wing. 



Coming up - The fight is on: Scott v's The Royal.