Melbourne’s Kiosks Are Numbered, But They Still Matter
As we crawl out of isolation, you may not notice a group of familiar small businesses missing from Melbourne’s CBD. They were not part of any ground floor street frontage, nor hidden up zig-zagging flights of stairs. Amongst the new ornament of ‘CLOSED’ signs that will be staying hitched to their strings, one might excuse your lack of vigilance. Instead, you will find the remnants of these businesses on the sidewalk, in the empty receptacles of the humble newspaper kiosks which are still firmly rooted in place.
They were the unashamed product of Melbourne’s Parisian sensibility. Raised off the ground on a slight plinth the kiosk’s Brunswick green modular structure shared a similar industriousness to the French pissoir. Whilst their exploding opaque glass roofs lent themselves a loud Art Nouveau gaiety as if performing in hyperbole the daily headlines. The reason for their merchant’s permanent vacation is not austerity measures like you might expect, nor a sudden decline in literacy. Rather, Melbourne City Council declared that they pose a pedestrian hazard, and are slated to be removed when they find the time.
If we follow the Council’s fraying line of logic, we ought to similarly excise the grid of roads that pose the most jeopardy to the city’s pavement pounders. However, one would have assumed the Council had no qualms in creating dangerous lines of flight. Take Swanston Street’s latest tram stops that force one to stand in front of oncoming cyclists; many of which are now electrically motorised. One would have thought it more sensible to place the cyclists in the middle like they do Barcelona. Most commuting cyclists are often travelling express and only require to stop at the beginning and end of their journey. Compare this to the trams which stop routinely and throughout, spewing disoriented passengers into brawling traffic.
I suppose sensible solutions are not creative and progressive enough for a city desperate to impress us with novel designs. One of the more recent examples was during the bollard crisis over fears of more drive-by terrorism. The Council refused even to consider using the trusted solid cast-iron bollards that have stood guard over the city for nearly a century. Instead, they opted for new bloated silvery tubes which can be seen outside Flinders Street Station. Because their tops are so perfectly flat they have become depositories for all sorts of litter — and so on their terms of rigid functionality have proved dysfunctional to city life.
It was only five years ago that the Council assured its residents the kiosks were a permanent feature of the landscape. A Council spokeswoman at the time noted that “Some of these kiosks have been a part of our city streets for several decades and contribute a valuable social element”. Even today, the current Council’s website acknowledges how “kiosks add to the vibrancy and diversity of street activity”. The choice to remove them and not replace them speaks otherwise.
Admittedly it was no secret Melbourne’s kiosks were suffering from dwindling sales. Yet, maybe if the Council hadn’t restricted their vendibles to chewing gum and newspaper pulp, they might have been able to diversify in time. So limited were the restrictions they refused to allow one kiosk owner to put up advertising to pay his rent. It is amusing how these shadow policies have not extended to Telstra’s debris of sterilising illuminated billboards disguised as telephone booths. If the Council has suddenly developed principles against advertising, one would question if even the magazines should have been allowed to be displayed.
The time of the newsie may have had its day marked. Nevertheless, the removal of useable infrastructure is a repeated mistake that is already leaving a mark on city life. Modern developments and their incessant need to demolish old buildings have made low-yield businesses desperate for cheap inner-city space. Almost all of the CBD’s art studios, workshops, and boutique ateliers have either dispersed or disappeared. The internet is not a catchall reason for our hollowed-out local economy. Indeed our reliance on cheap imported goods is partly caused by a lack of local small scale artistry, not in spite of it.
Policies like removing Melbourne’s kiosks are an attempt to purify the streets of supposed messiness. Yet they continue to deprive the city of being what we most value it for, a place where diverse and chaotic interests intersect. The general apathy of modern street furniture has resulted in many of us losing a sense of custody towards the built environment. The current model of endless construction and demolition is not a sustainable option if we are going to have a tenable chance at surviving the future. It has been a long goodbye to the friendly face of the newspaper kiosk, but I guess its farewell.
