All posts tagged Brisbane

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On the night of Queenslake

What kind of evening typifies Queensland for you?  The humidity was high and there was rain fluctuating from spurts to pours, but this didn’t slow the punters for Queenslake.

The night of Queenslake 1

The turnout was humbling. We heard reports of people waiting up to 45 minutes to join us inside the sweaty bar to view letterpress prints from some of Queensland’s leading designers and illustrators. At this stage we haven’t received official numbers from Kerbside, but the bar was kept at capacity from 6:30pm to late in the evening. With over 300 RSVPs to the event on Facebook we are confident that we cleared that number through the door, if not more.

The lads behind the bar did a wonderful job slinging ciders, keeping the crowd cool while the subtle sounds of Pat Tierney’s acoustic crooning filled the wet air. It was great to see a good mix of Brisbane’s advertising and design industry coming together to celebrate the craft and creativity of local talents.

And celebrate we did, raising over $9,900 on the night alone. Though this is just the beginning, the prints are now for sale here, and you can also view more pictures of the prints in Part 1, 2 and 3 of the catalogue.

Queenslake Letterpress Exhibition. from Camille Santiago on Vimeo.

The amazing video and the photos above were taken by Camille, you should check out her blog. The photos below were taken by Anna, she’s not even on Facebook!

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The flood

We’ve had an unseasonably wet summer. The only sunny day Brisbane had in weeks was the day the flood peaked.

I can’t remember where we heard it first, if it was the radio, via email, or the social network but everyone was spooked. The first thing we did was head straight to the supermarket to find the shelves were already bare of essentials: bread and bottled water were gone. We then headed out to one of the few depots that were distributing sandbags, but when we arrived the line of cars stretched around the block.

On the way home we checked out New Farm Park which is a few blocks away from our apartment. Rain was bucketing down. The park is right next to the Brisbane River, which was already breaking its banks and covering the walkway. Brisbane was lucky enough to get an advanced warning, all of this was happening on a Tuesday and the flood wasn’t set to peak until early Thursday morning.

We grabbed some supplies and went to check on the press. It was dark out when we realised water had begun seeping through the walls. Simon started mopping up while Jenna put the finishing touches on a very important job.

Jenna printing in the flood

Wednesday morning we woke early to a strange sight: sunshine. My phone buzzed, our neighbour had given us a tip that a new sandbag depot had opened up. When we arrived we were greeted by a bucket line of high-vis vested volunteers streaming sandbags into the back of our car. We headed back out to our press and lined the walls. We mopped up where we could then returned to secure our apartment. Our suburb was listed as one of the flood effected areas and we had to brace ourselves for the first peak at high tide at 3pm.  We were going to lose power soon so we headed out to help our neighbours, lending a hand sandbagging a few commercial properties and the hairdresser in our building who was on holidays.

We managed to squeeze in a bit of relaxing after our heavy sandbagging work. Heading down to the local lawn bowls club which sat right on the river, we saw familiar streets in not so familiar ways. The local supermarket’s underground car park was full of brown, soupy water and all sorts of people had come out to see their neighbourhood soaked.

The bowls club was also out of power, but fortunately there was still plenty of ice and beer. We sat by the river and watched the waters rise. Whole pontoons with boats atop, along with stray kayaks, furniture, hay bales, yachts and other debris float briskly by.

That evening we shared a candle lit barbecue dinner on the street corner with our friends from our apartment block. Other neighbours either drawn by the chatter or the smell joined us under the stars that evening on what will surely be a day that we will remember for a long time to come.

Thursday morning came with the peak of the flood. Thankfully, we were spared. The waters didn’t reach our block but it reached many, many others. As our river goes back to where it belongs it will leave behind much destruction and many broken hearts.

Our thoughts are with those that weren’t as lucky.

Click here to donate to the Premier’s Disaster Relief Appeal.

There goes the neighbourhood…

Saturday morning kicked off with a series of synchronised alarms. We were up and out by 6am to prepare our press’ new home. Simon’s brother ‘Salty’ met us there to assist in clearing the area and preparing essential nutrition for the day: peanut butter (all the way from NYC) on toast. We split up the team: Jenna went to the commercial printer where the machine was located to rendezvous with Bob, our Heidelberg engineer, and the trucky, while Simon and Salty went to pick up a palette jack.

When Jenna arrived Bob had already checked the machine and had begun to prepare it for the move. One poor sod who had the Saturday shift was on forklift duty and after securing the eye-bolt and raising the forklift till it almost hit the ceiling, off we went. Until we approached the door. A cautious Bob saved it from a near miss with the roof! Mr Forklift had to put the machine down, drive around, pick it up from the other side and carefully drive it out and place it on the truck.

Unfortunately Simon and Salty missed all the action, waiting an excruciating half hour for the paperwork on the palette jack to be completed. However, we all met up at the drop off point in time for the unloading.

After the machine landed we shared a presumptuous high five. The journey was just beginning. We got the machine onto the palette and onto the jack and very, very, very, carefully led the 1.3 tonne hulking mass down the ramp. Everyone on the downhill side was (rightly so) worried about getting squashed. We edged the machine over the lip of the door frame and cracked a few slats with the crowbar. It was here we thought that everything was going to pieces, not just the palette. With the machine half in, half out, Bob steeled everyone’s resolve with some quick thinking. With the palette jack as high as we could get it and as far into the doorway as we could, we chocked it all up on the eight fence palings we got from Bunnings the week prior (I didn’t know what they were for at the time, but what Bob says, goes). We brought the palette jack in and grabbed the beast from the other side. We were in!

This was the fun part. After laying down our three sheets of tongue and groove to protect the tiles we dropped the the mass right in front of the destination. We then crowbarred the machine up to slide under the fence palings, then up onto steel rollers, creating what Bob described as a set of ‘train tracks’. Next stop, back on the palette jack minus the palette. From here, we reversed direction, removed the palette and replaced it with a new set of train tracks. Toot-toot. Final stop – drip tray.

After a very sweaty few hours we were done… moving. Bob then switched the motor over from a three phase to single phase, checked the shearing collar and levelled the machine, amongst a myriad of other checks and balances.

We said goodbye to Bob, popped on our new rollers and we were printing!

It was a very long day and everyone at The Hungry Workshop were both excited and elated, so we celebrated the only way we know how: with a glass of champagne and a cold beer with good friends.

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