Q-Day

I left NSW behind today and went north, to Caloundra. Mirinda, Bob and Fiona dropped me at Hornsby station (after which they continued on to Budgewoi) and I managed to hop on a fast, and very comfortable, train to Central. As the train pulled in to Central and just near the old cemetery platform, I spotted a big portrait of a woman on a wall. Next to the portrait it was written that this was Florence Mary Taylor, Australia’s first female architect. Next to her portrait there was a picture of the cemetery platform. Call me simple but I figured the two must be connected.

Florence was born in Somerset, but her parents immigrated to Australia in 1884 when she was but a mere slip of a girl of four. Her dad was a stone quarryman in Britain but became a draughtsman-clerk in Paramatta, as you do. When both of her parents died, Florence had to find work in order to support herself and her sisters. So, like most people, she decided that architecture was for her.

She started at the bottom, a few rungs lower than a male, as a clerk, and studied nights at the Sydney Technical College and became the first woman to complete their final year studies in architecture, in 1904. This brought her much better wages as well as a position at the prestigious practice of John Burcham Clamp. However, she wasn’t allowed to join the Institute of Architects of New South Wales because she was a woman. (Eventually they let her in but that wasn’t until 1920 and she was the first.)

Sadly, there’s very few records for any of the buildings she designed, though there’s a few possibles dotted around. Her most obvious legacy, however, is the publishing house she set up along with her husband. At the time, they were described as “possibly the most amazing couple in Australia’s history.”

The publishing house specialised in journals, their main one being Building Magazine. Her husband (George Taylor) sadly drowned in his bath but that didn’t stop Florence. Not satisfied with architecture, she also studied and qualified as a marine engineer. She retired in 1961, well happy with her life. She died in 1969 and was described by the industrialist Essington Lewis as “the most remarkable woman in the empire.”

She sounds like one amazing woman. Interestingly, she had nothing to do with the cemetery platform at Central, which was built ten years before she was born, unless it was via a bit of time travel.

Leaving Florence, I hopped on the train to the airport and caught my plane to Brisbane, which left on time and was pleasant enough for cattle class (Florence was the first woman in Australia to fly in a heavier-than-air aircraft but it was probably more comfortable than mine). Tracey met me at the airport and we drove to mum and dad’s and the glorious smells of a roast…which tasted even more glorious.

In an almost repeat of last Christmas, Chloe and Caiden also came to tea (Chris being in Western Australia), the latter impressing everyone with his iPad skills.

Eventually I crawled into bed and sleep claimed me quickly. I didn’t dream about Florence or architects or…well, anything, really.