Busy By-Ways of Industry in Auckland

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 648, 27 April 1929, Page 21

Busy By-Ways of Industry in Auckland

j Round the City Are Many Little- \ j Known Trades . . . Making S j Knife-Handles From Ti-Tree ... j j A Sculptor in Wax .. . Biograph | Projectors Made in Epsom. l

(Written for THE SUN by LAWRIE MOIR.)

BFP the beaten their' turnovers of thousands—in the highways and byways of the city—are many little-known and often quaint trades occupying their little niche in the halls of industry. For instance, in the midst of all the bustle of the busy city of Auckland aro to be found three “trades”—little industries in their way—which are to be found nowhere else in the Dominion. The only firm in New Zealand manufacturing biograph projectors is situated in Auckland. And the only firm of cutlers in the Dominion has its being in Auckland. The city also boasts a wax worker, whose occupation is one which attracts the attention of only about ten firms in the world. Five of those are in Paris. And we must not overlook the work of Mr. George Tarr, who is a theatrical scene painter and mask maker.

Ice cream cones, toys, artificial marble . . . these are among Auckland’s 1 other little-known manufactures. * “Positively No Admittance” is the j forbidding sign that greets the visitor to a studio on the top floor of an old q building in Swanson Street. If he t braves the consequences and enters t he will find a collection that at first t sight seems to resemble that of t Madame Tussaud. Heads, busts and c Maori tikis, all in wax, meet the J glance. Human limbs are strewn in d all directions like disjecta membra 1 after a particularly gruesome accident, b On the wall a ghastly death mask e frowns down. f At an open window at the other side of the room, with the warmth ii of an autumn sun streaming upon d him, a man sits at work. It is fc creative work and his medium is a n slab of wax. His only tool is a pen- a knife, but with a deft stroke here a and a deft stroke there the pink tl wax rapidly takes the form of n ft human hand. o

The workman is Mr. C. E. McIver, New Zealand’s only wax figure maker. Selecting a cigarette from one of the many packets lying at his hand he tells his story. He was born in Sydney, and is a queer mixture of French and Scots blood. He studied in Australia for a time with an expert from Tussaud's and then spent two years in France. Returning to Australia, he took up caricaturing with the famous brothers Joe and Frank Lynch. Two years’ dental training followed, and Mr. MeIver then turned to the work in which he is now engaged. He has been established in Auckland for the past four years. His work differs from the sculptor’s in that one man has to carry each individual piece of work right through to its conclusion. In working in marble, the famous sculptor comes along when the job is nearly done, and adds the one or two marks here and the one or two touches there that make all the difference between mediocrity and a masterpiece.

Mr. Mclver thinks it almost a tragedy that some wax figures have not been made of the Maori race, now so rapidly being assimilated with the whites. He himself cherishes an ambition to model the famous Tami Solomon, last of the Moriori race, who lives in the Chathams. Wax, he says, has one thing that stone has not —it has translucency, and translucency gives a life-like effect. No composition will ever take the place of wax, according to Mr. Mclver, because no composition has these essential qualities. Rambling on in his vivacious Gallic manner, Mr. Mclver implied that he had no very high opinion of the artistic appreciation of New Zealanders, who, he claims, are engrossed too much in material things. Mr. Mclver makes wax heads for the figures of those supercilious ladies

who show in Auckland’s shop windows the dresses which women adore. His business extends throughout the Dominion, and he is now specialising in medical work; that is, making of limbs to typify the various ailments to which the human body is subject. He claims to have made the first wax head in the Dominion, and looks to Paris, the Mecca of wax workers, for his inspiration. N.Z. Knives Two years ago, in an old “grinder’s hull” in Wakefield Street, but a stone throw from the rush and roar of Queen Street, another New Zealand industry was born. The men who formed the New Zealand Cutlers’ Co., Ltd., Messrs. Smith and Goddard, undertook a big task when they decided to set up in opposition to the great Sheffield firms. Mr. Smith is sitting at the polisher putting the finishing touches to a knife handle which had once been part of a block of New Zealand ti-tree. This wood, more often than not, throws a warm glow over New Zealand’s home hearths, and the aroma of burning ti-tree is one of the great joys of camping in the Dominion. But Mr. Smith has found that ti-tree, and also honeysuckle and rewarewa, make even better knife handles than most imported timbers, and so another New Zealand industry is being assisted. Mr. Goddard, who came to New Zealand from the Midlands, says that Sheffield made wonderful cutlery some 20 years ago, when all the work was done by hand. There were 450 hand forges in Sheffield 30 years ago, but to-day there are only four left. Such are the consequences of the machine age. Every year £15,000 worth of slaughtering knives are imported into New

Zealand from England and America, and if such a sum were spent in the Dominion itself on tile New Zealandmade article, SO more men coulcl be employed. The Arm admits that if it had omitted to brand “Made in New Zealand” on its wares it would have been firmly established to-day. It is a curious thing, Mr. Smith stated, how people throughout the Dominion regarded anything made in the country as being inferior to the imported article. The steel for the knife blades is imported and cut down at the works. Each knife is then cut out, and after hardening and tempering is put on the grindstone and polished. The handle is then affixed, smoothed off and stained and the knife is complete. After two years in an endeavour to establish another industry for New Zealand, the firm is beginning to forge ahead. But it takes time. Producer, actor, manager, cinema operator, and now scene painter for

Auckland’s theatres, Mr. George Tarr is a man of many parts. He has seen much and done much in his crowded 46 years. He works away in his little studio in Durham Street. One might pass up &nd down there a hundred times without knowing it is there. No name or sign adorns his door. He believes that good wine needs no bush. Born in Australia, Mr. Tarr is practically a self-taught man. He supplemented his training with a little experience in France and England.

Mr. Tarr roamed round the back country of Australia as the member of a vaudeville company years before movies were heard of. Twenty-six years ago he was heading Dix’s bill in Wellington as a comedian. He has been connected with the movi.e business since its inception, and worked one of the first three cinema machines to arrive in Australia or New Zealand. He tells with justifiable pride how he manufactured a projector from a camera, a benzine tin, a lens, and an arc lamp in the pioneer days of the movies, and for some weeks held at bay the real thing at Broken Hill. He is also a pioneer producer in New Zealand. He directed “Hinemoa” a month before the outbreak of war, and on the night on which war was declared was screening it at the Lyric. Later he owned a picture show at Tauranga, but sold out to go to the front. On his return Mr. Tarr toured the islands of the Pacific and “shot” 12,000 feet of film for the Melanesian Mission. At various times in his career he managed theatres at Napier, Gisborne and elsewhere for Haywards. He comes from an adventurous family. His grandfather was one of the first missionaries to leave England for Australia under the Church of England mission scheme. “Yes, I can do anything I put my hands to,” he said confidently, as he added a dab or two with his brush to a Harry Lauder window display.

Cinema-Projectors New Zealand's cinema-projector manufacturers are Messrs. Cuff and Thomson, of Epsom. Scarcely noticeable from Manukau Road, their works contain an amazing equipment of "precision” machine tools, for the manufacture of the machine which, unseen by the audience, projects the movie on to the screen. The manufacture of a projecting machine entails the very highest engineering skill and workmanship. The accuracy maintained in the various working parts, for instance, is much higher than that required in the manufacture of a motor-car engine. A film consists of a succession of photographs approximating the size of a postage stamp, of which there are sixteen to each foot of film. The film is automatically run through the projector in such a manner that each separate photograph is projected on to the scene for a fraction of a second. Then the light is cut off while the film is moved on to bring the next photograph into position for projection. This cycle is repeated approximately 25 times a second, and as the human eye cannot detect such rapid replacement of separate photographs there

ation, artificial marble is made by Mr. L. Bater, of Wellington Street. The composition, which is a mixture of cement and marble chips, is cheaper than ‘‘the real stuff” and at the same time is claimed to be more durable, by virtue of the fact that it is reinforced with steel. The marble chips are set in cement and a colouring of red, yellow or green is added. On hardening, the surface is ground down, rubbed with fine stone and then polished with snake stone to bring out the effect of the marble chips in the cement. The surface consists of about 80 per cent, marble. This material is used chiefly for flooring, and specimens of the work are to be seen in the Majestic Theatre, St. James Theatre and the War Memorial Museum. The work, which was pioneered in New Zealand by Mr. Bater, is kindred to mosaic work and has been in use in Italy for 2,000 years. Although it has been established in Australia for half a century, it was only three years ago that it crossed the Tasman. When young Wilfred Henry thrusts a red tongue into the depths of his penny ice cream, and having devoured that eats the cone, he little realises all the processes that are necessary

appears on the screen an apparently smooth and continuous motion picture. The raw material for the manufacture of the projector is tested in special machines, and then after the manufacture of each unit is completed it, also, is tested for accuracy. Then follows the assembling of the parts to form the complete mechanism. This in turn is mounted on a substantial stand together with a special mirror arc lamp. The projector itself is driven by an electric motor, the speed of which can be altered to suit varying conditions. The firm is now preparing to meet the advent of the “talkies” and has secured contracts to supply several of the Auckland theatres with combined projection and sound-reproducing equipment. It has secured sole Australasian rights for one of the latest systems. Better known as an industry than those already mentioned, the manufacture of artificial marble may still be classed as one of the lesser known of Auckland’s activities. One of the oldest forms of original Italian decor-

for the manufacture of that pink, bis-cuit-like envelope. A visit to McNiven Bros. (N.Z.), Ltd., the only firm in New Zealand solely engaged in the manufacture of ice cream cones, quickly explains the method. The making of an ice cream cone is not a very complicated business. Although some people regard the cone as something to be thrown away, there is nothing harmful in it for those who belong to the other “school of thought.” The main ingredient is flour. To that water, sweetening, colouring and salt are added, and the whole is mixed in the ordinary way. It is then run into iron moulds, baked and in this fashion cones are turned out in dozens. These are packed in boxes, stored for a time and placed on the market. There is a story told of a duck, which had been feeding on waste from the manufacture of ice cream cones, and laid eggs with a pink yolk. A surprised housewife made the discovery when frying eggs one morning, but nothing

deterred, offered the pink egg to her husband. He ate it, and suffered no after-effects, so the whole family were served with pink eggs. The vegetable colouring used is, of course, perfectly harmless. The firm established itself in Auckland two years ago, and now supplies 80 per cent, of the ice cream shops in the Dominion with cones. How Toys Are Made The manufacture of wooden toys is the trade of H. Grange, Ltd. A visit to the factory in Broadway reveals an amazing collection of all the types of toys which bring joy to children’s hearts. Everything in wood, from a rocking horse to a rabbit, is made there and one of the essentials of all toys, cheapness, is demonstrated by the wide range available for less thau ten shillings. Rabbits, carts of all designs, trolleys, dogs, blackboards, engines, cricket bats, hoops, horses and lawn rockers in plain wood or vivid colours to attract the young eye, aru there by the score. This firm supplies all the Auckland warehouses, and its wares, all of which are made of white pine, fill the bounteous bags of the many Santa Clauses who parade the streets of the city at Christmas time. Specialisation is developed to the fullest extent in the cutting out, assembling and painting of the wares in a factory which turns out toys by the gross each year. Domestic utensils are also manufactured by this firm, which numbers among its products bread-boards, wash-boards, paste-boards, knifeboxes, salt-boxes, towel-rollers, stepladders, clothes-horses. and the weapons that terrify the timorous male —rolling pins. The firm is finding the competition of the imported article keen at the present time when cheap German wares are being poured on to the market, but for 14 years it has existed as the only toy-making firm of any size in the city.