Rarotonga calling

West Plaza

I recently moved to Auckland to start a new job. When I found out that I'd be working in the West Plaza building, I was delighted! Located downtown on the corner of Albert and and Fanshawe streets, West Plaza is an elegant beauty. Its distinctive narrow form appears like a cross-section of a wing with shimmering white fins. Designed in 1970 in the International style by Neville Price, and completed in 1974, West Plaza reached a then-high 74 metres with 18 floors with fine views across the Waitemata Harbour.

West Plaza has been hailed as one of Auckand's finest high-rise buildings. Recently featuring in Julia Gately's fine Long Live the Modern: New Zealand's New Architecture, 1904-1984, the entry by Bill McKay refers to it as being a sculptural piece, with its curved base, gleaming whiteness and vertical fins providing a nautical flavour.

In 2005 the New Zealand Institute of Architects bestowed an Enduring Architecture Award, refering to a  "...finely scaled building [that] stands tall on its narrow site, as noble now as when first built... the elegant arrangement of fins describes an ever-changing pattern for passing observers, and displays a richly layered texture on the cityscape ...West Plaza remains a jewel to be treasured and an exemplar for future generations".

Hotel Los Flamingos

Hotel Los Flamingos is perched on the highest cliffs of Acapulco, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Fittingly, it glows a deep shade of hot pink from among the palm trees. We stopped by for some birthday drinks and to soak up the ocean views. Yes, even after Las Brisas I'd still not had my fill of pink hotels.

The hotel has some history, notably in the 1950s and 1960s when it was owned by a gang of Hollywood actors that included John Wayne, Errol Flynn and Johnny Weissmuller. The veranda around the reception area is a gallery of photos from those party-hard years. Today, Los Flamingos' cliff-top terrace remains the place to enjoy the Pacific sunset with drink in hand. Its pink walls glow spectaculary in the last sun rays of the day.

Los Flamingos is also known for its house cocktail, the Coco Loco - a ubiquitous concoction of spirits and juices served in a green coconut. Of more interest, is the hotel's lesser-known Tortuga, created there in 1963. Its a cocktail of rum blanco, apricot liqueur, orange juice, lemon juice and red wine. Deep red and served in large goblet with ice cubes, the Tortuga was potent, fruity and cooling. The friendly service only added to the relaxed atmosphere.

Las Brisas

Las Brisas - the breezes - must rank among the loveliest places to stay anywhere. Set high on the hillside overlooking Acapulco, this resort comprises landscaped terraces of white and pink casitas set among swaying palms. Each of these little flat-roofed bungalows has its own pool and patio (now there's something charming about that word). There can't be many places where you're chauffeured around, from sunset bar to your own private pool, in pink & white jeeps.

Opened in 1958, Las Brisas must have been the last word in mid-20th century tropical resort luxury. It remains the height of elegance, having had a 50th birthday refurbishment. Our casita had incredible bones, with marble floor, stone feature wall behind the bed, and an open-roof shower with sunken bath in stone. These rougher textures helped to balance the white furniture and hot pink feature wall.

The patio offered complete privacy and stunning views down across Acapulco Bay. With Hibiscus flowers floating on the pool, red wine from Baja de California delivered daily, and a white canopy for shade, it was all pretty romantic stuff.

Undeniably, a pink and white paradise.

Fun in Acapulco

Acapulco. The name sounds so exotic. During its heyday, Acapulco competed with Waikiki and Tahiti as a jet set destination and a by-word for tropical glamour. Even Elvis starred in Fun In Acapulco (1963), as a cliff diver who must overcome his fear of heights to win the diving championship (and Ursula Andress). But sadly, from the 1970s the 'Pearl of the Pacific' seemed to fade with over-development, population growth and pollution.

On a recent trip to Mexico, we decided to take a chance on Acapulco, having heard that things had been cleaned up. I also suspected there may be some faded retro delights in the offing. A warm glow certainly descended as soon as the Aeromexico air hostess happily poured us tumblers of straight tequila...

Admittedly, away from the beaches, Acapulco is a city with chaotic traffic and plenty of people struggling to get by. But the natural setting is undeniably superb. La Bahia de Acapulco is a deep blue harbour with gorgegous arc of golden beaches surrounded by mountains. We stayed at Las Brisas, a hillside wonderland of 1950s white and pink bungalows with sensational views, day or night. The water is warm. Perfect weather. Friendly locals. Afternoon swims and margueritas on the beach at sunset. Out on the Pacific coast, los clavadistas still scale dizzying heights to perform their diving show into the ocean. Further along the coast, the cliff-top terrace at the Hotel Los Flamingos is the perfect place to sip a 'coco loco' and watch the sun slowly sink over the Pacific Ocean. 

Crazed Fruit (狂った果実)

I recently watched Crazed Fruit, a 1956 film from Japan directed by Ko Nakahira. Think Rebel Without A Cause, but with water skiing, skimpy bathing suits, and bad, bad attitudes.

A hothouse drama about wayward Japanese youth, Crazed Fruit concerns two brothers spending a summer at the beach and competing for the same girl - with tragic consequences. As reviewer Michael Buening (allmovie.com) notes, the film...

"...helped establish a post-World War II cultural template of first-world pampered, aimless, casually self-destructive youth - where the young women dangle their sexuality like a plaything and the boys store up puberty-driven reserves of testosterone until they explode with frustrated violence."

Like other classic youth films, Crazed Fruit caused outrage and hysteria among Japanese housewives, teachers, and politicians. The film may seem relatively tame by today's standards, but the finale still packs a dramatic punch. Crazed Fruit remains notable (and watchable) for its sharp cinemtography, its depiction of affluent Japanese youth just ten years after the war, a haunting jazzy-Hawaiian-esque score, and for being the break-out role for Ishihara Yujiro - as a long-legged bad boy in trunks.

Hosono Haruomi - Tropical Dandy

The cover painting sets the mood. Palm trees, an ocean liner, a glowing red sunset, with a tanned Harry peering out through a life preserver, looking every inch a tropical dandy in white suit and Hawaiian shirt. Yes, its Hosono Haruomi's 1975 classic album, Tropical Dandy.

The music varies between mid-tempo pop with stuttering rhythms to warm-beachy-evening ballads. Occasional lapping waves and bird calls add to the exotica feel. But it's definitely faux-tropicana-meets-Asia, with references to Peking ducks, old silk roads, and Yokohama's China town, and ironic sprinklings of Japanesque/Asiatic musical cliches.

The album kicks off with a cover of Carmen Miranda’s version of “Chattanooga Choo-Choo”, from the 1942 film Springtime in the Rockies. It hops and pops along at break-neck pace, blurring boundaries along the way. A one-time Americana big-band swing classic, it's performed in a samba-esque style with occasional boogie-woogie piano asides, and sung in Japanese-accented Portuguese. Guaranteed to make you smile, or at least to ask 'Whaaat!?'

For me, the highlight is “Hurricane Dorothy”, which begins with a slouching, squelching whup-whup-whup bassline. Harry then compares his love to the Caribbean winds ('kimi no hitomi wa, Caribou no kaze…”), supported by a soaring female backing vocals and loungey piano flourishes (those glissandos!). The slightly rum-slurred chorus rhymes ‘bolero’ with ‘odoru’ (dance), mingled with ‘la-la lu-la'. Take a sip, and then repeat.

The rest of side one is consistently strong, whereas side two lazily reworks a couple of instrumental versions of earlier tracks. Harry's rum-soaked drowsy vocals may take some getting used to, but he mixes some strong songs with kitschy, escapist fantasies and comes up with an enjoyable and original album. Right then, back to the marimbas!

The Crocodiles - Tears

I've been listening to a great LP by the Crocodiles, a kiwi pop group that recorded a couple of albums circa 1979-81. Portrayed by John Dix in Stranded in Paradise as part of the old wave striking back against the punk revolution, the Crocs were experienced pros with technical skill and ideas to burn. The line-up included graphic artist Fane Flaws on vocals and guitar and actor Bruno Lawrence as drummer. Their debut album Tears (1980) still sparkles with pop-gem ideas and biting wit, such as Flaws' opening track, "New Wave Goodbye"

New Wave Goodbye - I heard you were coming and now you've arrived
I've seen you before, but I did not recognise you in that see-thru disguise...
We'll get a new band, now lemme see... how 'bout the Crocodiles?
Roll out the limousines, we'll stack the bucks in piles

Jenny Morris, who went on to a  career as a solo artist in Australia, shines on lead vocal on a few cuts - including their enduring hit, the doo-wop-y piano ballad "Tears".

You said you were an agency for paradise (ooh-wah)
I went along - it slipped my mind to check the price
Tears... I feel them on my cheeks
Tears... I've been this way for weeks

Guitarist Tony Backhouse leads a great group vocal effort on the jazzy "Its the Latest", which comments amusingly on the fickle nature of the music industry.

Here's another melody we stole from the Beatles...
I forget which song
If you recognise it, you don't win any prizes
You been around too long

I don't think this album has been re-released on CD but it deserves to be remembered and replayed. It mixes classic pop with new wave guitar edge and touches of doo-wop irony. There's hardly a dud track here. Here's to the Crocodiles!

Fly TEAL

Tasman Empire Airways Limited (TEAL) comissioned Auckland artist Arthur Thompson to create a series of "Fly TEAL" posters promoting it's Pacific destinations in the 1950s. These included stops on TEAL's famous Coral Route, such as Fiji, Samoa and Tahiti, as well as New Zealand, Australia, and Norfolk Island. Below is a selection of my favourite images.

I like the use of colour and the simple graphics. Somehow each poster seems playful and slightly mysterious. Of course, they play to 1950s perceptions of the 'exotic other' that wealthy air travellers might have imagined could be found at each destination.

The Coral Route

The weather has been bad lately. This week I watched a rare snowfall from my office window. We may be on a little island in the south Pacific, but the winters are cold. Despite the consolations of winter - such as warmed sake and clear mornings with snow covered hills - the mind turns to warmer times and places across the Pacific.

I was reading about the 'Coral Route' run by TEAL, a forerunner of Air New Zealand. From 1951 to 1960, their Solent 'flying boats' skipped across the south Pacific, from Auckland to Fiji (Suva), to Samoa (Apia), to Aitutaki to Bora Bora in Tahiti and back again on a fortnightly run. How romantic is that! Island hopping and landing on a lagoon inside the reef, with the plane swaying with the waves. I imagine stopping for a swim in the warm waters at Aitukaki while the plane refuels nearby. No immigration or customs. Back on board, a full service awaits with drinks before dinner while the captain sets course for Bora Bora and another day in the warmth of the sun.

Yu-chan's Holiday in Hawaii

In 1967 Ishihara Yujiro (石原 裕次郎), Japan's premier male film star and enka singer, went to Hawaii to record an album, Holiday in Hawaii (裕ちゃんのホリデイ・イン・ハワイ). The cover features Yu-chan by the beach at Waikiki with a winsome local lady. Clear blue skies and coconut palms, lei necklace and ukulele, and... Hawaii!! An image of international jet-setting sophistication for aspiring and newly wealthy Japanese audiences back home.

The opening track, a Japanese language version of "On A Tropic Night" (南国の夜), clips along at a fair pace with bongos, ukulele and some blistering Hawaiian-style steel guitar from "Buckie Shirakata and His Aloha Hawaiians". Ishihara, in a reverbed Elvis-like croon, seems assured with the Japanese lyrics and uptempo rhythm. The album mixes such small group tracks with lusher numbers recorded with syrupy strings, marimba and perfunctory ukulele backing. The material ranges from Hawaiian standards sung in English ("Beyond the Reef" and a credible "Blue Hawaii") and Hawaiian to a reworking of an earlier enka hit "Kurutta Kajitsu" (狂った果実 or Crazed Fruit).

Despite those strings and a sometimes slurred accent, the album's vibe of Hawaii through a Japanese lens is ideal for relaxing on a warm night over a drink. Or play it before bed and drift off to sleep dreaming of some Japanesque Hawaiian holiday in the 1960s. 

The National Library building

I've come to love the solid civic-ness of the National Library building. Perched on a corner on the slope of Molesworth St, its brutalist, cast-concrete looms out in distinctive shape and texture unlike anything else around town. Designed between 1971-75 and opened in 1987, the upper structure comprises angled blocks that interlock around three levels in a subtlely-shifting geometric pattern. The upper levels taper down and in before being undercut by an entrance level that rests on a podium base of charcoal grey textured concrete. From a distance, it reminds me of an inverted pyramid plunged into slab of a granite. A fortress-like treasure house for protecting books and other taonga from the elements.

Plans were afoot in 2008-09 to vandalise the exterior and replace it with sheets of glass, a misguided attempt to modernise in theme-park fashion in the hope of attracting foot traffic. Fortunately, that ill-advised project was rescinded on grounds of excessive cost. It would have been a pointless and expensive mistake. Sadly, the relevant Cabinet paper, released on the Library's website shows that the government was not even advised of the heritage value or architectural merits of this purpose-designed building. Nevertheless, it looks like the scaled-back refurbishment will keep the exterior intact. We'll be able to enjoy this remarkable-looking building for some time to come yet.

Wild River

I went to see Elia Kazan's Wild River (1960) last night as part of the NZ film festival. I'd seen it on the small screen and knew it as a highly-watchable tale about forced land sales along the Tennesee River in the 1930s. Montgomery Clift plays the liberal government man sent to get hard-bitten matriarch Jo Van Fleet off her family's island plantation before its flooded by a new hydro dam. So I couldn't miss the opportunity to see this under-appreciated film on the big screen. The brochure described it succinctly: "Glorious new restoration of a neglected 1960 masterpiece by Elia Kazan (On the Waterfront) with legendary performances by Jo Van Fleet and Lee Remick and Hollywood icon Montgomery Clift".

It looked wonderful on the big screen, the restored print showing the autumnal colours in Cinemascope. The silent raft trip across the river to the mysterious island is captivating, as are the confrontations with Van Fleet who simply won't budge, and the skill of Clift in subtlely mixing some bemused light humour with the drama. It's great to see that Wild River has been re-screened at film festivals around the world. It deserves more recognition, not only for the fine performances of the three leads and the quirky character actors, but for telling an entertaining story that touches on some big themes - the tension between progress and tradition, civil rights in the American South, and fear of committing to a relationship.