One thing common to all of Dunedin's heritage buildings is their extreme age; some are more than 100 years old. In the final instalment of his series of scholarly articles on how to make the city much, much better, David Loughrey looks at the possibility of replacing them with something more modern(ist).
David Loughrey went to university to hear arguments for the existence of God. He found nothing happens without a cause, but the possibilities are disturbingly infinite.
Dunedin, at this time of year, clings gamely to its steep slopes and settles uncomfortably into the wet sand of its flatlands, braving the casual brutality of the winter storms that batter its defences and eat away at its fragile soul.
Dunedin's Scottish heritage thing is getting a bit old, and is clearly holding the city back. In the second edition of a series of articles on how to make Dunedin much, much better, David Loughrey looks at our history and why we should change it.
It comes from an age when utilitarian purpose did not preclude elegant design of the very latest fashion. The Ward St substation is one Dunedin's finest infrastructure buildings, an art deco masterpiece that once provided careers for tidy, introspective loners.
It is three decades since one of the darker episodes in electrical engineering history took place in Dunedin. David Loughrey looks back to the 1980s with an excerpt from his soon-to-be-released book Hot Solder: The Andrew Hollison Story*, on the life of an enigmatic and controversial Dunedin electrical engineer.
It was transported by recalcitrant truck drivers and put together by hard men in the Great Depression to sate the thirst of a worried city. It is the Deep Creek pipeline, an engineering marvel that springs from a frozen fold in the earth. David Loughrey investigates.