Queensland Art Gallery Presscuttings Book 10 : Record of press coverage, March 1982 - May 1984

, .. Gold Coast Bulletin 9 u uly 1982 A trip to the gallery is ~n art on its own Masterpiece needs a few pointers I DON'T usually get lost. In fact, after nearly four years of travelling halfway around the world I pride myself on being a pretty good navigator. Bui a liule excursion tut week left me com– pletely bamboozled. The trip was to the newly opened multi• million dollar Queensland Art Gallery in Brisbane. While the Queensland Government has lashed out on a magnificent com– plex, it has most certainly skimped on a few vital 1i1ns that would have made all the difference. Just gelling inside the building was more dif– licuh than finding a way through the labyrinths or a Middle Eastern market place. In fact, a stranger 10 Brisbane would have trouble finding the build– ing at all. ••• I did nol sec one sign anywhere in lhc city direc– ting me 10 the art gallery. which will form part or the Queensland Cultural Ccn- 1re. The rest of the complex is still under construc1ion on 1hc Brisbane riverbank by GRAEME SHANDLEY site but no one would ever know the works were any more than just another big city building. When we did finally get to the complex, there was no large clearly seen sign to say 'This is it, the Queensland Cultural Cen– tre•. I drove around three sides or the building before finding a way in and found out later ·I had passed another entrance without even realising ii. Having arrived, I as– sumed our problems were solved. Into the underground car park and simply follow the directions. Bui ii was not 10 be that simple. I parked and stepped out of the car 10 try and find a sign to the lift or stairs that would take us up 10 the gallery. There was no such sign and no obvious way out. Nearby there was a door marked 'Exit' which seemed like a good start. I picked up the baby and went through the door into what turned out to be a rough-cast dimly lit con– crete stairwell. "Not much of an en- trance lo the place," I thought al we climbed up– wards. Up three flights of stairs we came 10 a door which just led 10 another parking level. So we climbed another three nights or stairs. Al the top was another door, but it was obviously no way out. ••• Someone had removed the door handle and ii wouldn't move as I tried 10 push ii open. Back down the steps we went and into the parking building again. I still couldn't sec how lo gel lo the gallery, when a man with an official looking badge came along. He said we should have used the stairs in the other corner and pointed into the dim yonder. Bui he said ii would be belier if we used the lift kepi for wheelchairs and invalids and he showed us 10 another corner and called the lift down. I asked wh y there weren't any directions and he said, "Yes, it's been a bit of a problem. There's been a muck up with the signs." Any way we were into the gallery and ii was well worth the visit, with or without the signs. There was the collcc– t ion of Japanese masterpieces, many Australian paintings and a magniliccnl display or re– n a Issa nee bronze statueues on loan from the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. After several hours of peaceful browsing, we turned for home and I de– cided to ask the pleasant looking lady at the in– formation desk how 10 get 10 the car park. "Well," she said she had been asked the same question a thousand times, "normally there's a lift. "Bui it's not working so you will have 10 take the stairs." "Fine," I said, "where arc they?" DO • We set off with direc– tions 10 go around the side of the building where there would be a sign to the stairs. It didn't sound 100 hopeful and after asking a couple of workmen, we spoiled the sign tucked away out of sight around a corner. We headed downstairs and walked across the Ooor or parked cars, hop– ing ours would be in the corner. II wasn't there and I realised we were on the wrong noor in almost ex– actly the same spot where the kind man had helped us out earlier in the day. Unfortunately he wasn't still there but I figured we could just go back into the stairwell we had come up earlier in the day and climb down to the car. But that would have been 100 simple. I opened the exit door to find the stairwell in pitch darkness. There was no way I would climb down rough concrete steps in absolute blackness with a three week old baby in my arms. The only solution seemed 10 be 10 follow the cars down the ramps and avoid being run over. On the way we came . cross a wide beautifully polished nood-lit stairwell. The doors were tied shut with a stout piece of yellow rope. We finally found the car. 11 was still parked beside that original door with the Exit sign. Ten people were star– ing into the black stairwell trying 10 figure where the gallery was. I gave them directions and wished them luck. I hope they enjoyed the paintings. ,. • ,.