kythera family kythera family
  

Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

Showing 241 - 260 from 1116 entries
Show: sorted by:

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Sydney Magazine on 28.02.2013

Randwick Ritz, Randwick

Referenced in the article below. The paucity of Art Deco theatres in Sydney and surrounds, makes the achievement of establishing and maintaining the Roxy Cinema, in Bingara, NSW, all the more impressive.

Screen Gems

Sydney Magazine

Issue No 118 , March 2013, p 33

Although scores of cinemas have closed in Sydney, Garry Maddox finds that some independents have survived - and even thrived.

There was a time when Coogee residents seeking entertainment could wander down to the elegant 1434-seat Boomerang Theatre to see vaudeville performances and, from 1928, the talkies. Further west, the Summer Hill Theatre, built in Spanish baroque style, had a facade that looked like the ornate carved bow of a 17th-century Spanish galleon, with gargoyles, large urns, a saucer dome and a huge chandelier. In 1934, the luxurious Hoyts Crescent theatre opened in Fairfield, a 1700-seater showing a double bill of That's A Good Girl and The Defence Rests. Owner A.J. Beszant, already running the Palatial Theatre in Burwood, an ornate charmer with almost 2000 seats and an organ imported from Britain, had plans for "deluxe theatres" in every key western suburb.

From the 1920s, movie-going was the country's main form of entertainment. Suburban and independent cinemas thrived. By 1933, there were said to be 22 cinemas in the city and 155 in Sydney's suburbs. One in three Australians attended at least one film a week.
But when television arrived in Australia in 1956, it began killing off these old cinemas as people stayed home more often for entertainment. Others survived, until later challenges from movies on home video and the rise of multiplex cinemas.

Now, multiplexes owned by the Event, Hoyts or Reading chains sell more than two thirds of the cinema tickets sold in Sydney, offering Hollywood block¬busters, big screens, comfortable seats, high-quality sound, "luxury" cinemas with names like Gold Class, La Premiere or Gold Lounge, and often shopping-centre parking. The Palace and Dendy chains cater for art house, quality or "cross-over" audiences, with the cinemas at Newtown and Leichhardt successful enough to warrant expansion. But smaller cinemas often continued to suffer. In recent years, closures have included Paddington's Academy Twin, Glebe's Valhalla, North Sydney's Walker Street, Double Bay's Village Twin, Stanmore's Globe and, in the city, the Pitt Centre and Dendys at Martin Place and George Street.

But, as Sydney's cinema landscape has undergone dramatic changes, around half a dozen small, often idiosyncratic, independents have survived. And in some cases thrived. The independently owned Cremorne Orpheum, Randwick Ritz, Roseville Cinema, the Uniteds at Avalon and Colloroy, Hornsby Odeon and Manly Cinema offer a different kind of cinema experience. It is sometimes a more personal one, harking back to the days of suburban cinemas catering to a local audience.

Take the Orpheum, the Cremorne picture palace owned by former TV host Mike Walsh. Like the State Theatre that hosts the annual Sydney Film Festival in central Sydney, it has an old-style charm from an era when audiences watched shorts before the movie, listened to the Wurlitzer organ and probably smoked during the screening.

"When we first came into the place 25 years ago," says general manager Paul Dravet, "I said to Mike, 'We're here for the long haul, so we have to approach this place differently. We have to market it on a more personal basis and that includes putting in foreign-language and independent films and staying with it, irrespective of the temptation to go with all the block-busters.' And eventually we cornered a terrific market."

Five years ago, the Orpheum and fellow northside picture palace Roseville Cinema had a runaway success as the only Sydney cinemas screening the Swedish charmer As It Is In Heaven. While those one-off movies are rare, Dravet tries to balance blockbusters with art-house films such as The Intouchables.

The cinema's creative programming also includes film festivals, screenings of operas, ballet and theatre shows, and nostalgia sessions designed to appeal to more niche audiences. A recent tribute to Glenn Miller attracted more than 600 people, while book launches and Q&A sessions with Barry Humphries and Geoffrey Rush also attracted large numbers.

Retro screenings have also taken off. The 1986 David Bowie cult movie Labyrinth attracted a younger audience of 400 people, many dressed up. "We've widened our market because, well, you have to," says Dravet. "When it's your location and you're there, you are far more in tune with what your audience wants than you are with, say, a head office that decrees what you do and don't get nationally."

At the family-owned Randwick Ritz, general manager Egidio Rodrigues has also built a loyal local following, but suggests"tenuous" is a better description of business than "thriving", given all the competition in the eastern suburbs from cinemas at the Entertainment Quarter, Eastgardens, Bondi Junction and Paddington. The Ritz's attractions include its art-deco charm, non-shopping-mall location at The Spot and low ticket prices: $13 for a standard 2D movie compared to $18 elsewhere, and $8 on Tuesdays. "Clearly we're surviving and making enough money to keep our doors open," says Rodrigues. "Are we doing as well as the majors? Each independent's circumstances are different, I guess, [but] it's certainly an exciting business to be in."

The Randwick Ritz, which now has six cinemas after opening with a single screen in 1937, does well with movies catering to local families during school holidays. But with its audience also drawn from uni¬versity students and hospital workers, the cinema's biggest movies last year were Skyfall, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, The Dark Knight Rises and The Hunger Games.

The cinema also attracts strong crowds for Australian and Polish film festivals. "We're fortunate that we have a lovely location and some great cafes and restaurants nearby," says Rodrigues. "If you wanted to be a millionaire quickly, it's probably not the best career choice. But if you're passionate and you enjoy bringing films to the masses, you can make it work."

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Sydney Magazine on 28.02.2013

Beautiful art deco furnishing in the Cremorne Orpheum

Referenced in the article below. The paucity of Art Deco theatres in Sydney and surrounds, makes the achievement of establishing and maintaining the Roxy Cinema, in Bingara, NSW, all the more impressive.

Screen Gems

Sydney Magazine

Issue No 118 , March 2013, p 33

Although scores of cinemas have closed in Sydney, Garry Maddox finds that some independents have survived - and even thrived.

There was a time when Coogee residents seeking entertainment could wander down to the elegant 1434-seat Boomerang Theatre to see vaudeville performances and, from 1928, the talkies. Further west, the Summer Hill Theatre, built in Spanish baroque style, had a facade that looked like the ornate carved bow of a 17th-century Spanish galleon, with gargoyles, large urns, a saucer dome and a huge chandelier. In 1934, the luxurious Hoyts Crescent theatre opened in Fairfield, a 1700-seater showing a double bill of That's A Good Girl and The Defence Rests. Owner A.J. Beszant, already running the Palatial Theatre in Burwood, an ornate charmer with almost 2000 seats and an organ imported from Britain, had plans for "deluxe theatres" in every key western suburb.

From the 1920s, movie-going was the country's main form of entertainment. Suburban and independent cinemas thrived. By 1933, there were said to be 22 cinemas in the city and 155 in Sydney's suburbs. One in three Australians attended at least one film a week.
But when television arrived in Australia in 1956, it began killing off these old cinemas as people stayed home more often for entertainment. Others survived, until later challenges from movies on home video and the rise of multiplex cinemas.

Now, multiplexes owned by the Event, Hoyts or Reading chains sell more than two thirds of the cinema tickets sold in Sydney, offering Hollywood block¬busters, big screens, comfortable seats, high-quality sound, "luxury" cinemas with names like Gold Class, La Premiere or Gold Lounge, and often shopping-centre parking. The Palace and Dendy chains cater for art house, quality or "cross-over" audiences, with the cinemas at Newtown and Leichhardt successful enough to warrant expansion. But smaller cinemas often continued to suffer. In recent years, closures have included Paddington's Academy Twin, Glebe's Valhalla, North Sydney's Walker Street, Double Bay's Village Twin, Stanmore's Globe and, in the city, the Pitt Centre and Dendys at Martin Place and George Street.

But, as Sydney's cinema landscape has undergone dramatic changes, around half a dozen small, often idiosyncratic, independents have survived. And in some cases thrived. The independently owned Cremorne Orpheum, Randwick Ritz, Roseville Cinema, the Uniteds at Avalon and Colloroy, Hornsby Odeon and Manly Cinema offer a different kind of cinema experience. It is sometimes a more personal one, harking back to the days of suburban cinemas catering to a local audience.

Take the Orpheum, the Cremorne picture palace owned by former TV host Mike Walsh. Like the State Theatre that hosts the annual Sydney Film Festival in central Sydney, it has an old-style charm from an era when audiences watched shorts before the movie, listened to the Wurlitzer organ and probably smoked during the screening.

"When we first came into the place 25 years ago," says general manager Paul Dravet, "I said to Mike, 'We're here for the long haul, so we have to approach this place differently. We have to market it on a more personal basis and that includes putting in foreign-language and independent films and staying with it, irrespective of the temptation to go with all the block-busters.' And eventually we cornered a terrific market."

Five years ago, the Orpheum and fellow northside picture palace Roseville Cinema had a runaway success as the only Sydney cinemas screening the Swedish charmer As It Is In Heaven. While those one-off movies are rare, Dravet tries to balance blockbusters with art-house films such as The Intouchables.

The cinema's creative programming also includes film festivals, screenings of operas, ballet and theatre shows, and nostalgia sessions designed to appeal to more niche audiences. A recent tribute to Glenn Miller attracted more than 600 people, while book launches and Q&A sessions with Barry Humphries and Geoffrey Rush also attracted large numbers.

Retro screenings have also taken off. The 1986 David Bowie cult movie Labyrinth attracted a younger audience of 400 people, many dressed up. "We've widened our market because, well, you have to," says Dravet. "When it's your location and you're there, you are far more in tune with what your audience wants than you are with, say, a head office that decrees what you do and don't get nationally."

At the family-owned Randwick Ritz, general manager Egidio Rodrigues has also built a loyal local following, but suggests"tenuous" is a better description of business than "thriving", given all the competition in the eastern suburbs from cinemas at the Entertainment Quarter, Eastgardens, Bondi Junction and Paddington. The Ritz's attractions include its art-deco charm, non-shopping-mall location at The Spot and low ticket prices: $13 for a standard 2D movie compared to $18 elsewhere, and $8 on Tuesdays. "Clearly we're surviving and making enough money to keep our doors open," says Rodrigues. "Are we doing as well as the majors? Each independent's circumstances are different, I guess, [but] it's certainly an exciting business to be in."

The Randwick Ritz, which now has six cinemas after opening with a single screen in 1937, does well with movies catering to local families during school holidays. But with its audience also drawn from uni¬versity students and hospital workers, the cinema's biggest movies last year were Skyfall, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, The Dark Knight Rises and The Hunger Games.

The cinema also attracts strong crowds for Australian and Polish film festivals. "We're fortunate that we have a lovely location and some great cafes and restaurants nearby," says Rodrigues. "If you wanted to be a millionaire quickly, it's probably not the best career choice. But if you're passionate and you enjoy bringing films to the masses, you can make it work."

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Sydney Magazine on 28.02.2013

Cremorne Orpheum

Referenced in the article below. The paucity of Art Deco theatres in Sydney and surrounds, makes the achievement of establishing and maintaining the Roxy Cinema, in Bingara, NSW, all the more impressive.

Screen Gems

Sydney Magazine

Issue No 118 , March 2013, p 33

Although scores of cinemas have closed in Sydney, Garry Maddox finds that some independents have survived - and even thrived.

There was a time when Coogee residents seeking entertainment could wander down to the elegant 1434-seat Boomerang Theatre to see vaudeville performances and, from 1928, the talkies. Further west, the Summer Hill Theatre, built in Spanish baroque style, had a facade that looked like the ornate carved bow of a 17th-century Spanish galleon, with gargoyles, large urns, a saucer dome and a huge chandelier. In 1934, the luxurious Hoyts Crescent theatre opened in Fairfield, a 1700-seater showing a double bill of That's A Good Girl and The Defence Rests. Owner A.J. Beszant, already running the Palatial Theatre in Burwood, an ornate charmer with almost 2000 seats and an organ imported from Britain, had plans for "deluxe theatres" in every key western suburb.

From the 1920s, movie-going was the country's main form of entertainment. Suburban and independent cinemas thrived. By 1933, there were said to be 22 cinemas in the city and 155 in Sydney's suburbs. One in three Australians attended at least one film a week.
But when television arrived in Australia in 1956, it began killing off these old cinemas as people stayed home more often for entertainment. Others survived, until later challenges from movies on home video and the rise of multiplex cinemas.

Now, multiplexes owned by the Event, Hoyts or Reading chains sell more than two thirds of the cinema tickets sold in Sydney, offering Hollywood block¬busters, big screens, comfortable seats, high-quality sound, "luxury" cinemas with names like Gold Class, La Premiere or Gold Lounge, and often shopping-centre parking. The Palace and Dendy chains cater for art house, quality or "cross-over" audiences, with the cinemas at Newtown and Leichhardt successful enough to warrant expansion. But smaller cinemas often continued to suffer. In recent years, closures have included Paddington's Academy Twin, Glebe's Valhalla, North Sydney's Walker Street, Double Bay's Village Twin, Stanmore's Globe and, in the city, the Pitt Centre and Dendys at Martin Place and George Street.

But, as Sydney's cinema landscape has undergone dramatic changes, around half a dozen small, often idiosyncratic, independents have survived. And in some cases thrived. The independently owned Cremorne Orpheum, Randwick Ritz, Roseville Cinema, the Uniteds at Avalon and Colloroy, Hornsby Odeon and Manly Cinema offer a different kind of cinema experience. It is sometimes a more personal one, harking back to the days of suburban cinemas catering to a local audience.

Take the Orpheum, the Cremorne picture palace owned by former TV host Mike Walsh. Like the State Theatre that hosts the annual Sydney Film Festival in central Sydney, it has an old-style charm from an era when audiences watched shorts before the movie, listened to the Wurlitzer organ and probably smoked during the screening.

"When we first came into the place 25 years ago," says general manager Paul Dravet, "I said to Mike, 'We're here for the long haul, so we have to approach this place differently. We have to market it on a more personal basis and that includes putting in foreign-language and independent films and staying with it, irrespective of the temptation to go with all the block-busters.' And eventually we cornered a terrific market."

Five years ago, the Orpheum and fellow northside picture palace Roseville Cinema had a runaway success as the only Sydney cinemas screening the Swedish charmer As It Is In Heaven. While those one-off movies are rare, Dravet tries to balance blockbusters with art-house films such as The Intouchables.

The cinema's creative programming also includes film festivals, screenings of operas, ballet and theatre shows, and nostalgia sessions designed to appeal to more niche audiences. A recent tribute to Glenn Miller attracted more than 600 people, while book launches and Q&A sessions with Barry Humphries and Geoffrey Rush also attracted large numbers.

Retro screenings have also taken off. The 1986 David Bowie cult movie Labyrinth attracted a younger audience of 400 people, many dressed up. "We've widened our market because, well, you have to," says Dravet. "When it's your location and you're there, you are far more in tune with what your audience wants than you are with, say, a head office that decrees what you do and don't get nationally."

At the family-owned Randwick Ritz, general manager Egidio Rodrigues has also built a loyal local following, but suggests"tenuous" is a better description of business than "thriving", given all the competition in the eastern suburbs from cinemas at the Entertainment Quarter, Eastgardens, Bondi Junction and Paddington. The Ritz's attractions include its art-deco charm, non-shopping-mall location at The Spot and low ticket prices: $13 for a standard 2D movie compared to $18 elsewhere, and $8 on Tuesdays. "Clearly we're surviving and making enough money to keep our doors open," says Rodrigues. "Are we doing as well as the majors? Each independent's circumstances are different, I guess, [but] it's certainly an exciting business to be in."

The Randwick Ritz, which now has six cinemas after opening with a single screen in 1937, does well with movies catering to local families during school holidays. But with its audience also drawn from uni¬versity students and hospital workers, the cinema's biggest movies last year were Skyfall, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, The Dark Knight Rises and The Hunger Games.

The cinema also attracts strong crowds for Australian and Polish film festivals. "We're fortunate that we have a lovely location and some great cafes and restaurants nearby," says Rodrigues. "If you wanted to be a millionaire quickly, it's probably not the best career choice. But if you're passionate and you enjoy bringing films to the masses, you can make it work."

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Sydney Magazine on 28.02.2013

Screen Gems

Sydney Magazine

Issue No 118 , March 2013, p 33

Although scores of cinemas have closed in Sydney, Garry Maddox finds that some independents have survived - and even thrived.

There was a time when Coogee residents seeking entertainment could wander down to the elegant 1434-seat Boomerang Theatre to see vaudeville performances and, from 1928, the talkies. Further west, the Summer Hill Theatre, built in Spanish baroque style, had a facade that looked like the ornate carved bow of a 17th-century Spanish galleon, with gargoyles, large urns, a saucer dome and a huge chandelier. In 1934, the luxurious Hoyts Crescent theatre opened in Fairfield, a 1700-seater showing a double bill of That's A Good Girl and The Defence Rests. Owner A.J. Beszant, already running the Palatial Theatre in Burwood, an ornate charmer with almost 2000 seats and an organ imported from Britain, had plans for "deluxe theatres" in every key western suburb.

From the 1920s, movie-going was the country's main form of entertainment. Suburban and independent cinemas thrived. By 1933, there were said to be 22 cinemas in the city and 155 in Sydney's suburbs. One in three Australians attended at least one film a week.
But when television arrived in Australia in 1956, it began killing off these old cinemas as people stayed home more often for entertainment. Others survived, until later challenges from movies on home video and the rise of multiplex cinemas.

Now, multiplexes owned by the Event, Hoyts or Reading chains sell more than two thirds of the cinema tickets sold in Sydney, offering Hollywood block¬busters, big screens, comfortable seats, high-quality sound, "luxury" cinemas with names like Gold Class, La Premiere or Gold Lounge, and often shopping-centre parking. The Palace and Dendy chains cater for art house, quality or "cross-over" audiences, with the cinemas at Newtown and Leichhardt successful enough to warrant expansion. But smaller cinemas often continued to suffer. In recent years, closures have included Paddington's Academy Twin, Glebe's Valhalla, North Sydney's Walker Street, Double Bay's Village Twin, Stanmore's Globe and, in the city, the Pitt Centre and Dendys at Martin Place and George Street.

But, as Sydney's cinema landscape has undergone dramatic changes, around half a dozen small, often idiosyncratic, independents have survived. And in some cases thrived. The independently owned Cremorne Orpheum, Randwick Ritz, Roseville Cinema, the Uniteds at Avalon and Colloroy, Hornsby Odeon and Manly Cinema offer a different kind of cinema experience. It is sometimes a more personal one, harking back to the days of suburban cinemas catering to a local audience.

Take the Orpheum, the Cremorne picture palace owned by former TV host Mike Walsh. Like the State Theatre that hosts the annual Sydney Film Festival in central Sydney, it has an old-style charm from an era when audiences watched shorts before the movie, listened to the Wurlitzer organ and probably smoked during the screening.

"When we first came into the place 25 years ago," says general manager Paul Dravet, "I said to Mike, 'We're here for the long haul, so we have to approach this place differently. We have to market it on a more personal basis and that includes putting in foreign-language and independent films and staying with it, irrespective of the temptation to go with all the block-busters.' And eventually we cornered a terrific market."

Five years ago, the Orpheum and fellow northside picture palace Roseville Cinema had a runaway success as the only Sydney cinemas screening the Swedish charmer As It Is In Heaven. While those one-off movies are rare, Dravet tries to balance blockbusters with art-house films such as The Intouchables.

The cinema's creative programming also includes film festivals, screenings of operas, ballet and theatre shows, and nostalgia sessions designed to appeal to more niche audiences. A recent tribute to Glenn Miller attracted more than 600 people, while book launches and Q&A sessions with Barry Humphries and Geoffrey Rush also attracted large numbers.

Retro screenings have also taken off. The 1986 David Bowie cult movie Labyrinth attracted a younger audience of 400 people, many dressed up. "We've widened our market because, well, you have to," says Dravet. "When it's your location and you're there, you are far more in tune with what your audience wants than you are with, say, a head office that decrees what you do and don't get nationally."

At the family-owned Randwick Ritz, general manager Egidio Rodrigues has also built a loyal local following, but suggests"tenuous" is a better description of business than "thriving", given all the competition in the eastern suburbs from cinemas at the Entertainment Quarter, Eastgardens, Bondi Junction and Paddington. The Ritz's attractions include its art-deco charm, non-shopping-mall location at The Spot and low ticket prices: $13 for a standard 2D movie compared to $18 elsewhere, and $8 on Tuesdays. "Clearly we're surviving and making enough money to keep our doors open," says Rodrigues. "Are we doing as well as the majors? Each independent's circumstances are different, I guess, [but] it's certainly an exciting business to be in."

The Randwick Ritz, which now has six cinemas after opening with a single screen in 1937, does well with movies catering to local families during school holidays. But with its audience also drawn from uni¬versity students and hospital workers, the cinema's biggest movies last year were Skyfall, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, The Dark Knight Rises and The Hunger Games.

The cinema also attracts strong crowds for Australian and Polish film festivals. "We're fortunate that we have a lovely location and some great cafes and restaurants nearby," says Rodrigues. "If you wanted to be a millionaire quickly, it's probably not the best career choice. But if you're passionate and you enjoy bringing films to the masses, you can make it work."

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Greek-Australian Cafe Culture on 12.02.2013

New sign at the Canberra Cafe, Manilla

The Canberra Cafe is owned by Paul Calokerinos and family.

Paul has been a cafe proprietor for more than half a century.

He purchased the Canberra Cafe from the late Jack Smiles, whose name features prominently on the sign.

Since mid 2012 Paul and family have renovated the cafe - in an endeavour to re-capture the 'original look'.

The renovated cafe has been dedicated to the memory of the late Jack Smiles.

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Sydney Morning Herald on 02.02.2013

Mission to bring light to what was once a dark place

The restoration of the Roxy cinema at Bingara, has inspired other restoration projects, such as the Bowraville picture theatre.

Sydney Morning Herald

February 2, 2013

Saffron Howden

Rural and Indigenous Affairs Reporter

Reeling back the years … Dr Lisa Milner at the Bowraville picture theatre, once a segregated cinema that has been restored by residents into a theatre space. Photo: Ben Rushton

''IF HE'S got Abo blood, he's got only one place - and that's with the other darkies.''

These were the words of Samuel Raymond, the owner of the racially segregated Bowraville picture theatre, reported in 1965 not long before his brick and timber cinema closed and began gathering dust for the next 35 years.

But the mid-north coast locals of today, dogged by the village's reputation for the gruesome murders of three Aboriginal children in the 1990s, are determined to breathe new life into their high street theatre with its galvanised iron roof.

''It was a beautiful cinema, but it was a segregated cinema,'' Lisa Milner, one of the locals who spearheaded the building's revival, said.

Advertisement
''Because Bowraville is an old mission town, a lot of people here were and are indigenous. And they used to have to come down the side, and they had to come to watch a film after it had started - so in the dark - crumping over people.

''They had to sit in the crappy wooden chairs and they had to leave after everyone else,'' Dr Milner said.

But the Freedom Rides - a busload of university students led by Aboriginal activist Charles Perkins - changed everything in 1965.

The students travelled rural NSW drawing attention to the towns and businesses that practised segregation.

At a National Museum of Australia forum a few years ago, Martin Ballangarry, a Gumbaynggirr man who is now a Nambucca Shire councillor, described his experiences as a 13-year-old Bowraville resident.

''Charles [Perkins] said, 'Come on, Martin. I'll go and buy the tickets.'

''So we went and bought our tickets and sat in the theatre; sat at the back and sat in the white fellas' seat - like, deadly, you know - with the cushion in it,'' he said.

''That was the highlight of my life at the time.

''For a brief moment, until the police came and ushered us out, politely, with the baton poking in the back.

''That was a long time ago.''

But the racism that preceded that day remains fresh in the minds of many locals and some refuse still to set foot inside on principle, Dr Milner said.

After the Freedom Ride bus came through, it was a matter of weeks before the cinema - once the hub of Bowraville's social life that drew patrons from the banana plantations as far north as Grafton - closed its doors to everybody.

''[Up until] the 10 years before the turn of the century, this building was being used as a haberdasher's shop,'' Dr Milner, a cinema historian at Southern Cross University, said.

''That was just at the front. Down here in the auditorium it was their store room so there were rolls of fabric, boxes of buttons, dust, spiders, all sorts of things here. And it was a mess.''

Remarkably, while the building gathered dust, it remained structurally unchanged. ''It hadn't burned down, it hadn't changed,'' she said. ''People didn't have the money to change it either.''

A little over a decade ago, some of the townsfolk decided to reclaim the space and restored its interior to the point it can now host film nights, drama productions, school events, and touring plays and festivals. ''Sam Raymond's use of the theatre was as a privately owned and physically segregated business that just screened films,'' Dr Milner wrote in her recent brief history of the cinema. ''Now the building is a public space and a place where contemporary and dynamic social values are manifest.''

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Greek-Australian Cafe Culture on 02.02.2013

The lollies we love

Love Hearts, with their sweet and sexy messages, were invariably more eloquent than one's own tongue-tied mumblings. Photo: Natalie Boog

This article first appeared in good.food.com

http://www.goodfood.com.au/good-food/food-news/lollies-we-love-20130128-2dfyj.html

January 29, 2013


Larry Writer

They represent our first discretionary purchase, and are important enough for a PhD thesis.


IN THE 1950S AT THE SATURDAY-ARVO flicks, kids couldn't wait for the movie's mushy bits. Just as the music swelled and Clark Gable took Ava Gardner in his arms for the climactic embrace, as their eyes closed and their lips locked for the fade-out pash, we'd reach into our packet of Jaffas and roll a handful of the hard lolly balls - rattle, clatter - down the wooden aisle.

Jaffas were delectable, their sweet orange coating dissolving in your mouth to reveal a chocolate centre, but best of all was their unrivalled ability to ruin the most romantic moment of any soppy melodrama.

''Many of our best memories involve lollies,'' says cultural historian and University of Queensland guest lecturer Toni Risson, who completed her PhD in lollies. ''And the good thing is that those that have stood the test of time, Fantales, Cobbers, Freckles, Violet Crumbles, Life Savers and the like, are still creating memories today.''

Lollies are talismen of their era. ''Kids growing up in the Depression without much money went for Rainbow Balls or Aniseed Balls that were cheap, but lasted ages,'' Risson says. ''Baby boomers were the first children to have money, so didn't mind wasting their Jaffas rolling them down the cinema aisle. Those born in the '80s and '90s wanted an extreme sensation, so opted for Moon Rocks and Warheads, which blasted your mouth. Kids today eat disgusting-looking lollies with names like Rip Snorters, Booger Balls and Brain Blasters.''

Surely, then, it's time for the best of our sweets to take their place alongside kookaburras, boomerangs and Bradman in Australian iconography. For a delicious assortment of reasons, lollies have played a role in most of our lives. They've remained one of life's great cheap luxuries, and sucking, chewing or chomping on one can whisk us back to our Jaffa-rolling youth as surely as a Beatles song or the salt smell of the ocean. ''Lollies evoke the freedom and promise of childhood, and make us feel like kids again,'' Risson says.

Lollies that have earned their place in the Australian sweet pantheon ''have a pleasing and distinctive taste and texture'', says Martin Brown, the business executive manager at Nestle, one of whose divisions is Allen's. ''They're novel in character and catchy in name. They're fun to eat and share.''

Ticking these boxes are Minties and Violet Crumble, both now 90 years old, and Jaffas, Fruit Tingles and Marella Jubes, which were introduced in the 1930s. Mint Leaves, Milk Bottles, Choo Choo Bars, Cobbers, Chokito bars, Clinkers, Snakes Alive, Strawberries and Creams, Jelly Beans, Red and Green Frogs, Kool Mints, Rosy Apples, Redskins, Scorched Peanut bars, Killer Pythons, Turkish Delight, Crunchie bars, Cherry Ripe, Cadbury's Milk Chocolate and Darrell Lea liquorice and Rocklea Road are among other perennial favourites.

Risson ascribes many of the classics' popularity to their fun function, as well as taste. ''Musk Sticks could be twisted on your tongue into a sharp point and used to stab your mate. As little girls, we used a saliva-soaked red jelly bean as a lipstick. We carefully tore lolly wrappers to see who ended up with the longest continuous strip. Cobbers were my favourite sweet, only a cent when I was little, and I'd nibble the chocolate off the sides and then suck the hard caramel in the middle very gently so it lasted half an hour.''

Minties wrappers had ''It's moments like these you need Minties'' cartoons to groan at. Fruit Tingles fizzed on your tongue. Fantales offered movie-star biographies on the wrappers (but why was the star always Troy Donahue?). And when trying to charm your new crush, Love Hearts, with their sweet and sexy messages (''Double Your Pleasure … Kiss Me Twice''), were invariably more eloquent than one's own tongue-tied mumblings.

For many, buying lollies was our first purchasing decision. As proverbial kids in candy stores, we had to decide whether it was better value to buy one Kit Kat or five Rainbow Balls, a packet of Chocolate Cigarettes or six Musk Sticks, for our pocket money. ''Buying lollies taught us about value, how to weigh things up and make the right decision,'' Risson says. ''The microcosm of an economy is played out through kids and their lollies.''

Brown adds that corner shops were a ''mind-boggling treasure trove of trays crammed with a vast variety of loose lollies''. ''We'd pile in after school; it was a great test of patience for the shopkeeper because no one is more value-conscious than a seven-year-old with 20¢.''

The unprepossessing Red Frog is even blessed with the power to soothe the savage hearts of Schoolies. Anita Catalano, the Nestle media relations manager, says each year the company donates 10 tonnes, or 1.2 million, of them to Andy Gourley's Red Frog volunteers, who support high-school leavers partying too hard and in danger of harm. ''Red Frogs quieten the revellers. No one knows why. We tried Green Frogs, but red work best,'' he says.

One reason Killer Pythons have endured, Nestle's Brown says, ''is because it's fun to see who can stretch their Python the furthest before the jelly snaps''. ''We followed up the Killer Python with the Killer Tarantula, a multicoloured, multiflavoured spider, and the seriously nasty Sewer Rat with its evil eyes, long sharp teeth and claws, which was advertised as a mutant rodent that had just crawled out of a toxic drain. They were delicious, but the spider wouldn't stretch and the rat was too gross and they were soon deleted.''

Some lollies - White Knights, Toscas (''Where's George? Gone for a Tosca!'') and Polly Waffles, Chocolate Cigarettes and Metro Gum - hung in bravely for decades, only to become victims of changing times and tastes. Citing falling sales and changing consumer demands, the 85-year-old Darrell Lea confectionery company went into voluntary administration last July. Although the business was bought by the Australian Quinn family, who have undertaken to distribute the most popular sweets in supermarkets, newsagents and chemists, lovers of Darrell Lea liquorice, Satin lollies and Rocklea Road fear for their long-term survival.

The 62-year-old Polly Waffle became headline news in 2009 when aggrieved fans protested that it was being discontinued.

''People were upset at the demise of a product that was once a part of their life,'' Catalano says. ''But Polly Waffles, with their wafer tube filled with marshmallow and coated in chocolate, were labour-intensive and expensive to make, and people weren't buying them. If there was genuine demand, we'd consider bringing them back.''

Unlike the much-mourned Polly Waffle, few tears were shed at the extermination of Blow Flies, Witchetty Grubs, Tennis Rackets, Sea Shells, Siamese Cats, Footy Boots, While Aways, Fun Fish, Slate Pencils, Moon Rocks, Metro Gum, Myrtle the Turtle and other sweets that came and went and are now forgotten, more or less.

Some failed because they didn't taste or look good, or their name didn't trip off the tongue (somehow, Lolly Gobble Bliss Bombs are still going). Others were victims of changing times. Even though manufacturers insist sweets do no harm in moderation and some even blare ''99 per cent fat-free'' on their packets, lollies have been expelled from school canteens.

Chocolate Cigarettes, while hardly a health hazard, died a death when people realised lung cancer was no laughing matter.

Some treats have been scuttled by manufacturers' attempts to ''improve'' the sweet. In England, in a bid to combat obesity and make Mars Bars appeal more to women, the size of the bar was surreptitiously reduced. Consumers vented their fury, and the bar reverted to its original size. Jim Sifonios, a quality controller at Allen's Sweets for 35 years, says, ''People get irate if companies alter the recipes; they don't want taste, texture or size to change … We copped it when word got out that we were messing with Minties, but all we were doing was bringing back the original texture by making it chewier while retaining the hardness and the taste. We had to be careful about the way we changed such a well-loved lolly.''

The demise of the once-ubiquitous corner store rang the death knell for many old lolly favourites and cost manufacturers a venue to test new lines. Those dusty, musty mixed businesses or milk bars with their lolly counters crammed with hundreds of different kinds of loose sweets costing 1¢, 2¢, 5¢ or 10¢ have been vanquished by supermarkets with their aisle of $3 and $4 chocolate blocks and pre-packaged family and party confectionery packs on hooks. Some old-time sweets, especially from small, home-grown independent companies, have been squeezed out of existence. Many have closed or been taken over by multinationals. Since the 1980s, Nestle has acquired Sweetacres (Fantales, Minties and Jaffas), Hoadley's (Violet Crumble, Polly Waffle) and Mastercraft (Redskins, Mint Patties) and the still-viable lines are marketed under the Allen's label.

So what sweets will typify this decade? ''Hard to say,'' Brown says. ''To me, none are obvious candidates to have the longevity of Minties or Violet Crumble. What seems clear is that more chocolate is being eaten today, sweets are being consumed in smaller portions, and there's a demand for resealable packaging.''

Origin of the species

LIFE SAVERS

In 1912, in Garrettsville, Ohio, Clarence Crane (father of poet Hart Crane, who, ironically, would perish after flinging himself from an ocean liner in 1932) invented a hard peppermint candy shaped like circular life-buoys thrown to rescue the drowning. Crane sold the rights four years later to E.J. Noble, who produced the sweets in a variety of flavours (Stik-O-Pep, Cinn-O-Mon, Vi-O-Let,

Cl-O-Ve) and packaged them in foil rolls to keep them fresh. WWII Servicemen devoured them by the handful because they reminded them of home. Life Savers were first manufactured in Australia in Victoria in 1925 and, today, owned by Wrigley and available in five flavours - Butter Rum, Wild Cherry, Wint-O-Green, Pep-O-Mint and Spear-O-Mint - the candy with the hole continues to keep its head above water.

KIT KAT

The name ''Kit Kat'' was registered by Rowntrees in 1911. It derived from the famed 17th-century London literary and political organisation, the Kit Kat Club. The name lay dormant until 1937, when marketing director George Harris, who also presided over the creation of Black Magic chocolates, Aero and Smarties, used Kit Kat to brand a new chocolate-coated wafer finger confection that was created after a factory employee wrote to Harris saying he craved a treat that ''a man could have in his lunchbox for work''. The bar came to Australia in the 1950s and the famous slogan ''Have a break … have a Kit Kat'', coined in 1958, is still synonymous with the perennial favourite.

MINTIES

Minties were created by Sweetacres in Sydney's Rosebery in 1922, the brainchild of confectioner Keith Wolfe who wanted to create a minty alternative to boiled lollies and chocolates. The slogan ''It's moments like these you need Minties'', accompanying a cartoon, sometimes drawn by leading cartoonists Syd Nicholls and James Bancks, creators of iconic comic strips Fatty Finn and Ginger Meggs, depicting some hapless bloke in a precarious predicament, on the packets, wrappers and advertising hoardings, helped the lollies come into their own in the Depression when laughs were few. Today, it seems, we're still in need of a mint hit and chuckle because 500 million of the square-white-chewy mints are devoured each year.

SMARTIES

Began life as ''Chocolate Beans'' in 1882 but in 1937 York-based manufacturer Rowntrees added red, yellow, orange, green, mauve and pink to the existing light and dark brown sweets and renamed the mix Smarties. Australia's Rowntrees followed suit. To celebrate Smarties's 50th birthday, a blue Smartie replaced the light brown stalwart. In case you're wondering how they're made, molten milk chocolate is poured between cold metal rollers to form the button shape. The centre is cooled and smoothed, sugar-coated and dried. Coloured sugar-coating is added, the lolly is polished and the different colours mixed together and packaged.

MARS BAR

The chocolate-coated nougat and caramel treat was invented by Forrest C. Mar in Slough, England, in 1932,and has been among Australia's most popular lollies since its introduction here in 1954. Over the years, there have been numerous spin-off versions launched - Mars Lite, Mars Lava, Mars Rocks, Mars Fling, Mars Chill and reduced-fat Mars Red - with varying degrees of success. The deep-fried Mars Bar, the product of fish shop proprietors dipping the lolly in batter and cooking it in boiling oil, for some reason failed to catch on.

WARHEADS

Wally Warheads, the cartoon character on the Warheads logo, had a mushroom cloud exploding from the top of his skull and those who gobbled the sweets in their '80s heyday would know how Wally felt. Warheads Extreme Sour Hard Candy were invented in Taiwan in 1975 and came to Australia via the United States. The sizzling sensation in the mouth came courtesy of Warheads' malic acid coating. For a while, munching Warheads was a popular extreme sport as kids competed to see how many they could endure in their mouth at once. This led to a health warning being printed on the pack warning that a ''severe reaction'' could result.

JAFFAS

Jaffas, the chocolate-coated orange balls that were as integral to a Saturday movie matinee as the cartoon and the cross bloke who patrolled the aisles with a torch, were first made in 1931 by James Stedman-Henderson's Sweets Ltd in Sydney. They were named by artist Len Gapp after a town in Palestine where oranges were grown for export, and the orange flavour was the work of Sweetacres food chemist Tom Colston Coggan, who formulated several different syrups before landing on the Jaffa coating whose taste has long defied replication by rivals.

Do tell: what are your favourite lollies?

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by DAILY TELEGRAPH on 20.01.2013

A Town Like.....Bingara

Daily Telegraph.

Saturday January 19th, 2013

page 108.

Photograph: The Peters and Co cafe, within the Roxy complex, with portable coffee maker on the pavement.

Over two years in the mid-1930s, a Greek tragedy played out on the main street of rural Bingara, in northern NSW. Three ambitious migrants from a small Greek island spurred a commercial war to the death when they rebuilt their country cafe to incorporate a glamorous art deco cinema.

Born in the 1890s in Mitata, Kythera, in 1919 they followed thousands of countrymen to Australia, then headed inland to find a town in need of a cafe.

Peter Feros, Emanuel Aroney and George Psaltis selected Bingara, trading as Peters and Co when they opened for business in 1920. By 1930 they opened the Golden Belt in nearby Barraba, and announced the "dawn of a new era in Bingara's entertainment history".

They planned a modern cafe seating 140 patrons, two shops, a guesthouse and the most modern theatre outside Sydney.
Then home to about 1500 people, Bingara was settled in the 1830s when William, Matthew and Thomas Hall took up 16,000ha on the Gwydir River.

The Halls named their run Bingera, an Aboriginal name for a shallow crossing. Gold was found in 1852, followed in the1880s by copper and diamonds.

Bingara Moving Pictures opened in an iron theatre in 1912. In 1931 Gallipoli veteran Victor Peacocke opened a silent picture show in the Soldiers Memorial Hall. In 1933, Bingara Moving Pictures closed.

Peters and Co engaged Sydney architect Mark Woodforde to design a theatre with a 30m-long auditorium and soaring 7m ceilings, decorated with ornate stucco plaster. The sloping auditorium seated 280, with 470 seats on a level section near the screen that hid a dance floor.

Peacocke wrote official letters complaining of Greek standover men and rebuilt his venue. His modest Regent Theatre opened in June 1935.

The Roxy opened on March 28, 1936. Three weeks later the Regent cut tickets to one shilling, half price for children.

The Roxy matched the deal, and organised a Movie Ball promoted as the most spectacular dance event in Bingara's history.

But with a superior sound system, by August 1936 the Regent was the only survivor in Bingara's cinema war.

Beset with debts, the Roxy complex closed after five months.

MAREA DONNELLY

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by The Australian Newspaper on 20.01.2013

The big outdoors

BY: CATHERINE MARSHALL

Photograph: The Australian Standing Stones at Glenn Innes.

Picture: http://www.gleninnestourism.com/pages/australian-standing-stones

This article is included as as good general overview for travelling around the North Western part of NSW by road. When Kytherians go to visit the Kytherian iconic and sacred site of the Roxy complex in Bingara, they will know that there are many more interesting sites to visit in the immediate area.

The rains are coming to Moree in the northwest New England region of NSW, driven westwards from the drowned plains of the NSW central west, and southwards from Queensland, where floods will soon swallow the land whole.

My visit is in mid-December and already the crops have been ruined. Stuart Boydell plucks a head of wheat and releases the grain with his thumb.

"Too much rain during the growing season," he laments. "It's almost halved the price." And there is more to come.

"They say if you see a carpet snake the rains are coming," says his daughter, Dimity. But there's nothing to fear tonight, for the warmth hangs cloak-like over the family's homestead, Cooma, and stars pierce the black sky. There is a pool in the garden but beyond it, past the gravel tennis court and the gazebo where guests sip champagne through candy-striped straws, is something far more enticing: a picture-book yabby pond from which our entree has just been scooped.

The deluge hasn't troubled these crustaceans, nor the pecans in the dessert. "When they were babies the trees had opera played to them," says Stuart of the nearby pecan farm, the largest in the southern hemisphere. "No one complained, because it worked."

Such quirky farming techniques and unpredictable weather patterns don't deter the tourists: they pour into Moree to avail themselves of expansive landscapes, fresh produce and hot artesian baths, said to ease ailments and deliver an analgesic stupor.

The drive south to Narrabri is pleasantly soporific, too, with one vast cotton field indistinguishable from the next until we reach Bellata, a village dwarfed by the biggest grain silo in this region. At Narrabri, the Namoi River has burst its banks so that it resembles a squat brown snake.

We sit on the steps of The Crossing Theatre and workshop with artist Nancy Hunt, one of six generations who've lived off this mercurial land. My watercolours can't replicate the jersey-print trunks of the river gums, so I lay down my brush and listen instead to Max Pringle, who recites bush poetry nearby. Then at lunch, yabbies make another appearance, alongside sweet, locally reared Inglegreen pork. Our tipple has been brought in from Wee Waa in the flooded Namoi Valley, where Lindy Widauer runs Seplin Estate Wines. "We came in on an aqua rider with two people, two dogs and all these bottles of wine," she says.

No obstacle is too great for the people who live in Big Sky Country, where a little rain goes a long way and too much won't dampen the spirit. Narrabri's museum reflects such resilience, and the quirks and oddities of this town.

"Electricity was meant to come here in 1911 but someone [started] a rumour that it interfered with women's metabolisms and made them funny," says Pringle the bush poet. "So they held a referendum and voted it down, and Narrabri only got electricity in the 1920s."

Northwest from here, we detour into Mount Kaputar National Park, swatting persistent mosquitoes as we go.

Our reward is an exhilarating view of Sawn Rocks, pentagonal basalt pipes that spring up from Bobbiwaa Creek. It's a startling formation, secreted away in the Nandewar Range.

Up the road is another revelation, the town of Bingara, where Greek immigrants opened a milk bar named The Roxy in the 30s.

The Gwydir Shire Council is restoring this art deco building with its melamine counters and flashy neon signs. "It epitomises the story of Greek immigration to northern NSW," says Sandy McNaughton, a Melburnian who fell for a local farmer and now manages The Roxy.

We have moved on from the flat western plains to the green curves of New England. At Olives of Beaulieu, 15 varieties of the fruit thrive alongside cherry, pear and walnut trees, an earthy and sophisticated bounty of robust fruit, infused oils and spice blends inspired by North Africa, Asia and the Middle East.

Just outside Inverell, Blair

Athol Estate, a seven-guestroom historic manor house, sits surrounded by English and kauri pines, Moreton Bay figs and rotund bottle trees. The original owners are buried in the garden, but ghost sightings aren't mentioned when we gather around the breakfast table.

Also buried in these hills are curiosities of another kind: sapphires so plentiful as to earn Inverell the dazzling moniker of Sapphire City. Bill Dawson has mined the gems for 40 years, and still works his claim seven days a week. "It's heaven," he says, holding a sapphire to the sun, turning it until the light flares within, illuminating each feather and veil. "Every day is a surprise; you don't know what you're going to find."

Dark clouds follow us eastwards to Glen Innes where they encircle the Australian Standing Stones. A healer walks her dog here; she says she moved to Glen Innes for the stones. "They have an energy about them. At certain times of the year the dowsing rods show us where that energy is."

But rain threatens to wash away the positive vibes, for the ground is sodden and the farmers are suffering. Farmers can't get stock to the market because it's too wet, says butcher Bluey Campbell.

Steak remains a popular choice nonetheless on the menus around town: at Restaurant Ninety8, in the historic New England Club and at Hereford Steakhouse, where guests who conquer The Beast, a 1kg cut, are commemorated on a roll of honour. I receive a mention for consuming two decadent chocolate pithiviers.

The steak and chocolate and local pinot gris are easily slept off at the stately Tudor House B & B, where the beds are cavernous and the linen crisp and soothing. We are headed next morning for Armidale, with its cathedral-spiked skyline.

The New England Regional Art Museum is unusually accessible, with its treasure-filled vault from which locals were allowed to curate their own exhibition, and its wide corridor where someone casually paints a self-portrait.

Next door, at the Aboriginal Cultural Centre and Keeping Place, bush tucker has been set out for morning tea: dollops of lilli pilli and rosella jam sliding off hot scones, wild lime muffins and garlic damper set out on palm leaves, fragrant mugs of lemon myrtle tea. I pour a cup for Steve Widders, a blind Aboriginal painter who is exhibiting for the first time.

"I can't read and I can't do photography, but I can use my hands," Widders says. "I have someone with me when I paint. I say I want an orange-pink or a dark blood-red. It's all about my perception of colour, even though I'm blind."

Perception, yes: an essential ingredient for anyone who lives out here in the bush, where nature wields such unfathomable power. By the time we reach Peterson's Winery and Guesthouse, the rain has fled, leaving behind emerald fields and sun-spangled air. Peterson's manager, Sandy Harris, gazes out contentedly.

"On a day like today, you could practically watch the vines grow," he says.

Catherine Marshall was a guest of New England North West Tourism.

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Kytherian Historical Record on 18.01.2013

Tears, Songs as Athenian Club Closes

Newspaper article, 2nd July, 1971

Patrons and staff wept and sang Greek and English songs when the Athenian Club, Castlereagh Street, closed yesterday.

The building will be demolished to make way for a huge development project taking in Elizabeth Park and Castlereagh Streets.

Former Prime Ministers John Curtin and Ben Chifley, were among the club's patrons.

So were State Premiers Sir Bertram Stevens, Joe Cahill and Bob Heffron.

The club was a rendezvous for stage personalities including "Mo" (Roy Rene). Sporting identities, jockeys and horse trainers also fraternised at the Athenian.

Nick Laurantis and Mick Pastalis, both millionaires, were patrons and members. Recently Mr Laurantis endowed a Chair of Greek Literature to Sydney University.

"CONSULATE"

One of its chefs was Bazil Georgopoulos who cooked for King George the First of Greece. The club was known as the unofficial Greek consulate. It was one of the first stopping places for Greek migrants.

Members of the bar, including the late Dr H. V. Evatt, members of the clergy and police were regular visitors.

The club was founded in 1914 by Greek migrants from Kythera, an island between the Greek mainland and Crete.

A newspaper columnist once described the Athenian as a rendezvous for gourmets from all walks of life.

Diners in evening dress sat adjacent to shift workers in common tribute to the club's cuisine.

The famous Andronicus coffee was tried and approved at the club before it was placed on the market. Mr John Andronicus, founder of the coffee firm and now 80 years old, was one of the club's oldest members.

—BILL ARCHIBALD.

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Roxy Museum Bingara on 07.12.2012

One of two Cash Registers in situ in a Greek-Australian boardroom

These cash registers are not available as donations to the Roxy Museum, Bingara.

But they are superb examples of the kind of cash registers that the Roxy Museum Committee are seeking to obtain for the Roxy Museum.

Do you know where the Roxy Museum Committee could obtain a cash register of this quality?

Contact Roxy Manager

Contact Peter Prineas

Contact George Poulos

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Roxy Museum Bingara on 07.12.2012

Rear view of one of two Cash Registers in situ in a Greek-Australian boardroom

These cash registers are not available as donations to the Roxy Museum, Bingara.

But they are superb examples of the kind of cash registers that the Roxy Museum Committee are seeking to obtain for the Roxy Museum.

Do you know where the Roxy Museum Committee could obtain a cash register of this quality?

Contact Roxy Manager

Contact Peter Prineas

Contact George Poulos

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Roxy Museum Bingara on 07.12.2012

One of two Cash Registers in situ in a Greek-Australian boardroom

These cash registers are not available as donations to the Roxy Museum, Bingara.

But they are superb examples of the kind of cash registers that the Roxy Museum Committee are seeking to obtain for the Roxy Museum.

Do you know where the Roxy Museum Committee could obtain a cash register of this quality?

Contact Roxy Manager

Contact Peter Prineas

Contact George Poulos

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Roxy Museum Bingara on 07.12.2012

Cash registers in situ in a Greek-Australian boardroom

These cash registers are not available as donations to the Roxy Museum, Bingara.

But they are superb examples of the kind of cash registers that the Roxy Museum Committee are seeking to obtain for the Roxy Museum.

Do you know where the Roxy Museum Committee could obtain cash registers of this quality?

Contact Roxy Manager

Contact Peter Prineas

Contact George Poulos

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Greek-Australian Cafe Culture on 07.12.2012

Paul Calokerinos has refurbished the Canberra Cafe, Manilla

The milkbar counter has been restored to its former splendour.

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Greek-Australian Cafe Culture on 07.12.2012

Paul Calokerinos has refurbished the Canberra Cafe, Manilla

Wider view of the Canberra Cafe.

Note the art deco wall divider at the rear of the store.

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Greek-Australian Cafe Culture on 07.12.2012

Paul Calokerinos has refurbished the Canberra Cafe, Manilla

Many of the old artefacts have been returned to the store.

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Greek-Australian Cafe Culture on 06.12.2012

Paul Calokerinos has refurbished the Canberra Cafe, Manilla

In this photograph, it is evident that the original marble top tables have been restored to the cafe.

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Greek-Australian Cafe Culture on 06.12.2012

Paul Calokerinos refurbishes the Canberra Cafe, Manilla

Paul has invoked the style of the cafe from the hey-day of Cafes in the 1940's and 1950's.

Paul maintains an olive grove in the area, processes the olives, and sells them in the shop.

Photos > Cafes, Shops & Cinemas

submitted by Sunday Telegraph on 28.11.2012

History gets a real shake as it is 80 years today since a first milk bar opened

• by: MELISSA MATHESON
• From: The Sunday Telegraph
• November 04, 2012

Photograph: Olivia Storrie and Erin Munro (right) enjoy drinking a milkshake Picture Toby Zerna Source The Daily Telegraph


It marked the start of the "milkshake revolution" - the opening of Sydney's first milk bar triggered a lasting love affair with the mouth-watering drink.
Now, 80 years on, the "old-fashioned" corner store is still a one-stop shop for many, with the milkshake holding its own against a variety of beverages.

In the golden days, the milkshake was promoted as "health food", with its combination of milk, chocolate, dried fruit and essence.

Macquarie University historian Leonard Janiszewski said the Black and White Milk Bar opened in Martin Place in November, 1932, and soon there were 4000 milk bars in Australia.

"The most popular was the bootlegger punch milkshake and it basically had a dash of rum essence in it.

"This was the Depression, and the majority of working people in the cities and towns were men, not women. The majority of them would go to the pub, but it was much cheaper to go to the milk bar."

It all started with Joachim Tavlaridis, a Greek migrant better known as Mick Adams, who opened a chain of Black and White Milk Bars across the country after adopting the US model of "pomp and ceremony" for store openings.

Mr Janiszewski credits him with introducing a new form of quick economics to food production, which saw the milk bar craze spread to New Zealand, South Africa and the United Kingdom.

"He had a magical cow with calf in the front window and you could pump milk from it, which was really white-coloured oil," he said.
"He had to extend the milk bar within two weeks of opening and every two hours they had to deliver milk."

While the Black and White store no longer exists, many of Sydney's historic milk bars are still serving customers after more than half a century.

Tim Downs and Doug Battye bought Parry's Milk Bar in Caringbah in 2004. It had previously been run for almost 40 years by Peter and Bill Cassimatis.

"I had one of my first dates here when I was 15 or 16," Mr Downs said.