As a born, bred and proud Dunedinite, I am now in despair at where this once highly regarded southern metropolis is headed.
We seem to have disappeared off TVNZ’s map, which shows Auckland, Wellington, Christchurch and Queenstown.
Once upon a time, Dunedin was regarded as one of New Zealand’s four main centres —not the manufacturing and commercial capital it was in the late 19th century and the first half of the 20th, but still thriving into the 21st century, due largely to the educational facilities in our midst.
But let’s not count chickens on that, with university numbers sliding for the next intake. And as if we need more to chew our nails over, our new hospital has continued to slip further towards the back burner.
Also of great concern, but not yet obvious to the average passers-by, are the number of empty buildings in the city, spelling further threats to our heritage which so many visitors come here to see — and spend money doing it.
Not all empty buildings are old and crumbling: some are tucked in behind intact facades and/or larger buildings.
Yet, on closer inspection there are some that have not seen maintenance in years.
Empty buildings of sounder condition, that would stand the test of time if upgraded sooner than later, could well be converted into accommodation, as have many already, very successfully.
More conversions of what Dunedin has in abundance would surely be better than those ugly, cheek-by-jowl "Coronation Streets" being thrown up in our suburbs for those on a supposed waiting list for roofs over their heads.
And so much for the terrace rows in the so-called flood zone in South Dunedin if they don’t come with a jetty and dinghy provided.
Meanwhile, in the heart of our city — at eye-watering cost — a treat awaits the city faithful in the form of a nicely paved, one-way main shopping street complete with a surprise (who saw it coming?) children’s playground and an alarming number of shopkeepers packing up and heading elsewhere.
To be fair, optimism abounds now that the racket of street works has abated, the shops will soon be re-occupied and George St will again become the bustling hub it once was. Let’s not be too pessimistic. But not overly optimistic either.
In South Dunedin, a threat to the city centre is emerging with the opening of a new and much enlarged retail outlet, which joins a mega-sized supermarket and the place where "everyone gets a bargain", all a stone’s throw from a zillion carparks. And still more shops are being added to the existing, around the corner.
What comes next is a worry to an old thing now in her early 80s, who grew up in the Dunedin of old with its handsome buildings, built to last and well-maintained; houses with attractive gardens; theatres and entertainment venues and trams filled at weekends.
Not quite so rosy is the Dunedin scene today. Times have changed but we could do better for our much loved city, regardless of the era.
Recognising that Dunedin is heritage-focused is one thing. We have large early houses to die for and most within walking distance from the city centre.
They may not house the affluent families they were built for, but they could do better than find owners hellbent on making a killing from their conversion into student flats — or worse, bringing in the wrecking ball and clearing the site for yet another cheap block of apartments.
Where is the imagination? Where is the concern that Dunedin is piece by piece losing the very thing that brings people to our much loved southern city?
The Dunedin City Council has been aware of this for some years now, though too slow in recognising many vulnerable buildings of heritage value and putting a stamp on them.
Granted, we have more heritage buildings than most cities in New Zealand. But the job of evaluating those still on the waiting list has to be done and speedily. If not, a great chunk of our city’s heritage stands to be whittled away and with it much of our tourism potential.
To speed this up could be the formation of a city heritage committee, comprising historians, city planners, conservation architects and structural engineers. Buildings could be noted and referred for listing, along with suggestions for the size, shape and materials of any infills that may need to replace structures unworthy of retention in heritage areas.
The former Historic Places Trust (now Heritage New Zealand) had, back in its heyday, what was known as a buildings classification committee, which identified buildings and structures worthy of listing for protection on district plans.
A purely voluntary group of about five or six, it comprised those skills above and anyone available locally with knowledge that could assist in the process of recommending sites for listing for protection on the local council’s district plan.
Covering the whole country, the process was too slow to cover all of Dunedin’s heritage sites, but a more formalised local group under the council’s umbrella concentrating solely on Dunedin to evaluate properties and liaise with council staff would go a long way in identifying and listing those buildings worthy of retention and those that are not.
The current debacle over the very attractive house in Stuart St, designed in the 1920s by nationally renowned architect Edmund Anscombe, and earmarked for demolition, all for a cheap block of flats to occupy this prime Dunedin spot, should not happen. But it is happening, sadly. And that is the main concern. It need not.
What many of us believe is needed is a lot more serious thinking about where this city is headed, and not just be reliant on what the mayor, the council or anyone else decides is best for our city because it seems a good idea at the time.
Our city is unique. It has its own charm. It should not need to emulate other cities to survive as a place to live and visit.
Tighten the rules around the retention of historic buildings to prevent developers from outside the city coming in to make a killing from replacing them with cheap blocks of flats and the like.
Above all, make Dunedin one of New Zealand’s four main cities again. We are distinctly Dunedin. And proud of it.
— Lois Galer is an author and former regional officer for the NZ Historic Places Trust.
