“Electrical wonders of the present age”: cinema-going on the Far South Coast of NSW and rural discourses of modernity

The rise of cinema around the turn of the 20th century as a popular cultural activity is commonly linked to the emerging modern lifestyle of city residents – a product of urbanisation, industrialisation, mass production, mass consumption and the consequent growing affluence of the general populace. This connection was made by commentators of the period[1] and continues to be used to promote the argument that the cinema came into being as an amusement customised to suit the entertainment needs of the metropolis, particularly the working classes. According to this understanding, the constant barrage of moving images encountered through the windows of motorised vehicles, the bustle of over-crowded streets and living quarters and the reorganisation of time according to the schedules of the work place quickened the senses and led to a desire for greater stimulation, sensation or thrill. An array of novel entertainment options and distractions, such as amusement parks, magic acts and the moving pictures arose to meet this emerging need.[2] Whilst the “modernity thesis” appears to explain the ready acceptance of the moving pictures in the densely populated cities of Europe and the US, it becomes strained when it seeks to explain the popularity of cinema-going in a rural rather than a strictly urban context.[3] Research into American rural movie-going conducted over the last decade has revealed a range of variables influencing the cinema-going experience, including geography and settlement patterns, class, income, local customs, gender expectations, ethnic and racial biases and religious beliefs.[4] These findings do not necessarily indicate that the connection between cinema and modernity is severed in rural environments. However as Fuller-Seeley and Potamianos suggest, we must ask, what happened when “cinema’s modernizing force” left the metropolis and moved into the countryside?[5]

Drawing on empirical materials from the Far South Coast of New South Wales from 1898 – 1940, this paper explores the relationship between understandings of modernity, the cinema and cinema going in a rural environment. Throughout this period the responsibility for the management of public opinion on the introduction of new ideas and trends lay primarily with the local newspaper editors. The specific discourses of modernity drawn upon by these agents of the press to promote cinema-going have therefore been tracked with the following objectives: firstly, to ascertain how rural residents were presented with concepts of modernisation and modernity and how these predominantly urban representations were transformed and responded to over time and secondly to determine the extent to which cinema pushed the processes of modernization in rural environments. My interest lies in the way that the conversations surrounding the cinema converged with notions of scientific know-how drawn from other areas of life and became infused with ideas of civic pride and communal progress to form a discourse of modernity focussed on the collective rather than the individual experience. This discourse continues to have relevance across the region in the twenty-first century.

One of the purposes of this study therefore has been to test whether Miriam Hansen’s theory of vernacular modernism has application for investigations of cinema and cinema-going in an Australian rural environment. Hansen introduced this concept to cinema studies in 1995 in order to challenge the opposition between the modernism associated with early film and the classicism of 1920s to 1950s Hollywood. Hansen contends that prior to the coming of television, cinema “was the single most expansive and discursive horizon in which the effects of modernity were reflected, rejected or denied, transmuted or negotiated.”[6] Vernacular modernism as a theoretical framework is most commonly used to explain and explore the ways American movies were translated, reconfigured and understood in non-American contexts.[7] It retains a strong focus on aesthetic form. My concern has not been on the aesthetics of film or on the architectural merits of the venues in which the moving pictures were screened. The local newspapers paid little attention to the content of the movie on show and most of the district’s cinema related events took place in unadorned, practical, multi-functional buildings built around the 1880s. Taken from this perspective, then, Hansen’s model has been of limited benefit to this study. However, if our understanding of vernacular modernism is broadened to include “the cultural practices that both articulated and mediated the experience of modernity” as Hansen suggests, it may provide researchers with a useful tool for exploring situations that are not well-conceptualised by the metropolitan model.[8]

Jill Julius Matthews uses this approach to good effect in her analysis of the modernising of Sydney, Australia, and its populace between 1890 and 1930. Matthews’ focus lies not in “the socio-economic forces of modernisation or the responses of aesthetic modernism” but rather in the mechanisms through which modernity was interpreted and experienced by residents.[9] The role of inexpensive consumables and affordable entertainments such as dancing and movie-going in promoting and effecting socio-cultural change and mediating modernity is emphasised. Cinema, in particular the glamour associated with film stars as articulated through film and associated publications such as fan magazines, is argued to have enticed ordinary people, markedly young women, into the modern world of Hollywood (pp. 127-132). Matthews (p. 239) highlights the global nature of cosmopolitan modernity, which was constantly adapting and evolving in response to the interplay between imported commodities and concepts with local traditions. The local traditions involved in the modernising of Sydney were based on urban values and practices. The challenge remains to understand this connection in regions such as the Far South Coast that were slow to experience the unsettling effects of modernisation and whose populace was not similarly affected by the processes of change. Despite the districts remoteness from the metropolis, there is strong evidence to suggest that the cinema, one of the few mass entertainments available to Far South Coast residents, did play a role in the formation of a complex vernacular version of modernity through which the local populace interpreted their place in a rapidly changing world.

The Far South Coast – a brief introduction to the region

The Far South Coast is located at the southern extreme of New South Wales, Australia, on land traditionally owned by the indigenous Yuin people. This narrow coastal strip covers an area of approximately 6,000 square kilometres and lies midway between Melbourne and Sydney. The mountains of the Great Dividing Range mark its western boundary. Since white settlement in the 1830s dairying, fishing and forestry have been the mainstay of the local economy. The region has no access to rail transport and throughout the period of investigation, roads were poor and subject to flood. Between the years of 1901 and 1947 the population increased from 5,967 to only 7,575.[10] Under these circumstances any link to a modern, urban, consumer life-style appears tenuous in the extreme.

The history of motion picture exhibition in the towns and villages across the Far South Coast can generally be seen to have existed in three phases: the era of the travelling-shows, permanent and regular exhibition under the proprietorship of private companies and ultimately the public ownership of the local cinema through community organisations.[11]  Residents across the region first encountered the moving pictures in December 1898 courtesy of Mr. J. B. Wakely “one of the leading city proprietors” who brought from Sydney a range of electrical products including the Roentgen radiograph, the gramophone and the cinematograph.[12] From the early days of exhibition cinema-going was highly valued by residents both as a form of entertainment and as an important means of maintaining social contacts.[13] Throughout the first decades of the twentieth century a variety of travelling picture show companies continued to entertain locals exhibiting through an existing network of community halls usually owned by the School of Arts. These public institutions were established across the Australian countryside in the mid 1800s and were dedicated to the intellectual and moral improvement of rural dwellers. The School of Arts played a central role in communities hosting a wide array of social and civic activities and were widely appreciated as indices of “public spirit, intelligence, progressiveness and up-to-dateness.”[14] By 1930 many of the villages had a permanent picture-show operating within a community facility however the smaller centres continued to be serviced by itinerant exhibitors until the mid-1960s. The only purpose-built cinemas were located in the region’s provincial capital, Bega. It is worthy of note that the different stages of exhibition/ownership often coexisted on the Far South Coast for longer periods than elsewhere. For example, some of the smaller villages had a cinema that showed on a specific night of the week giving it the appearance of permanence and independence. However in several instances these shows were a part of a local touring circuit, owned, arranged and maintained by the same itinerant exhibitor.

Pivotal to any discussion of change on the Far South Coast, is the local press and its role in the management of public opinion on the introduction of new products, ideas and trends. Prior to WWII newspaper proprietors tended to be active members of their communities, involved in various commercial ventures and social organisations. The region’s cinema proprietors were similarly placed. The same businessman, in some instances, owned both the town’s cinema and newspaper. In a special celebratory edition of the Bega District News brought out to coincide with the paper’s hundredth year of publication, editor W. B. Annabel wrote:

From the outset, December 3, 1864, the Bega editors realised perfectly their mission as controllers of the Press, the recorders of the news and its interpretation… it is not too jingoistic for the Press to feel that its publication of news and editorial comment assisted in the progress now enjoyed by a prosperous community.[15]

Given the aims and concerns of this paper, the co-management of both the material products of modernisation, and the means through which they were introduced and marketed to the public, is crucial.

The discourse of modernity

From the earliest years of the 20th century all things mechanical and/or electrical were promoted with enthusiasm. Farm machinery, motor vehicles, dairying equipment were discussed in terms of their up-to-dateness, scientific wonderment and unquestionable benefit to both the individual and community. It would appear that editors across the region strongly believed that the populace could most effectively be served through technological progress and change and importantly that it was the role of the press to advocate for such.

During the past few years the man on the land has, by discarding the old slip-shod methods and going in for a more up-to-date system, got far more from his acres than he did in former times. He is awakening to the fact that a little science introduced into his work means a bigger credit balance at the bank.[16]

The close connection that existed between newspaper proprietors, businessmen and civic organisers is likely to have further encouraged this view.

Throughout this period, movie patrons were similarly told that a visit to the pictures was an encounter with modernity. Until the mid-1920s shows continued to be “all the rage,” “famous,” “electric,” “up-to-date” – descriptors which attached the popular discourse of metropolitan cinema-going, as promoted by both the Far South Coast press and the film industry through its pre-packaged advertising material, to the local enthusiasm for cream separators and the like. In the case of cinema, however, an additional connection was made. The picture shows were always comparable to and met the standards of the practice as undertaken in the city: films arrived “direct from Sydney” or “direct from the metropolis”; shows “equalled” those in the city; exhibitors were invariably city trained and “highly regarded” in those circles. The relevance of Hansen’s theory of “vernacular modernism” for rural studies of cinema-going now becomes apparent. A localised or “vernacular” version of the “modernity thesis” was propagated: a visit to the cinema was not only a brush with modernity but also an encounter with a metropolitan way of being.

The promotional discourses surrounding the opening of Bega’s first permanent purpose built cinema, The Bega Picture Palace, in 1910 are fairly typical of the period.

The machine, which is a new Urban K model direct from Spencers, shows an 18 ft picture and is lit with an electric light of 5000 candle power. Everynight [sic] the public are shown 6500ft of films and an orchestra adds considerably to the attraction. The whole theatre is lit with electricity there being nearly 50 lights altogether. The front is lit up with a very bright arc lamp and a number of smaller ones, lighting the street up brilliantly… The plant is one of the best and most up-to-date out of the city and it naturally follows that the pictures must be of the best, so the public can always be confident of getting a good honest show for their money. The pictures and machine are in the capable hands of Mr Fitzpatrick of Sydney…[17]

The local press was seemingly more impressed by the technological wizardry that made the show possible than by the entertainment. Throughout the article only casual reference is made to the audience, and the film on show has not been mentioned. This bears out Matthews’ suggestion (p. 7) that the modern romance associated with cinema was not found in the films but within the apparatus itself.  The assumption that the overall quality and integrity of the show, and presumably the showman, is directly relational to the up-to-date status of the plant is also interesting.


Source: The Bega Standard, 2 May 1911

In the above advertisement for the Bega Picture Palace, potential patrons are assured that the show is not only as good as any Australian city or town can offer but can also compete on the world stage. Again, the content of the programme is not mentioned. This promotion is a particularly interesting example of its kind as is it demonstrates how modern concepts were introduced to the region. Here Henry Jardine, editor of the Bega Standard and co-owner of the theatre, explains to readers the meaning of   “brand new”, a version of “new” closely connected to the mass manufacture of consumer goods that was emerging as a feature of the modern era.


Bega Street Parade
Source: Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW.

Notice also the association between the cinema and the aeroplane – another popular symbol of modernity – in this promotional float for the Star Picture Theatre. The “other picture shows” have been afforded the same status as what appears to be some form of non-motorised, hand-propelled scooter. The internationalism of cinema is also clearly on show through the characters that accompany the float.

Unfortunately, the notions of urban modernity newspaper proprietors so persistently attached to cinema were often belied by the actual circumstances of exhibition. For example the Candelo School of Arts’ buildings were described as “for the greater part old” and the Pambula School of Arts’ hall was condemned “especially on account of the sanitary conveniences which are a standing disgrace to the committee and civilised society.”[18] Even in the more substantial theatres of Bega, audience members often experienced embarrassment and discomfort: theatre-goers were known to bring cushions “for protection” from the hard wooden seats when attending the Bega Picture Palace [19] ; the Star was heated by wood fires burning in oil drums placed throughout the theatre and the Lyric’s patrons had to contend with the possum droppings that fell through the finely latticed ceiling.[20] Consequently, whilst a visit to the pictures may have been an encounter with modernity it also served as a constant reminder to audiences of where they were not – the city – and what they did not have – city comforts and city amenities.

Any disappointment experienced by patrons is likely to have been tempered by the undoubted benefits that the cinema did bring to these small and isolated communities.  In addition to the innovative ideas and “electrical wonders” directly associated with the promotion and exhibition of film, the cinema introduced to residents technological “advancements” which may otherwise have taken a lengthier period of time to arrive. Electrical lighting, concrete as a building material, heating by electricity and the telephone booking service, were all cinema “firsts”. The cinema thus became a part of the infrastructure of modernity in a way that did not happen in the cities.

Throughout this period cinema was also purposefully linked at both the exhibition and industrial level to good works, moreover and more importantly, to good works within the local community. Fundraiser movie-balls, for example, provided residents with an opportunity to participate in the glamour of Hollywood whilst contributing to the wellbeing of the community. These events were not unique to the district, rather, as Matthews points out (p. 127; 246), were a part of a tactic devised by the US film industry and exported alongside Hollywood movies to make cinema-going internationally acceptable as a popular form of culture. On the Far South Coast this strategy localised Hollywood by incorporating it into established fundraising activities. Movie-balls were widely reported as being both financial and social successes. As the following example drawn from the rural village of Pambula will demonstrate, notions of town progress and civic pride rapidly became entwined with the concepts of both modernity and cinema.


Movie Ball, The Lyric, Bega: Fundraising benefit for Bega Hospital held 26 June 1925.
Source: Bega Pioneers’ Museum.

Cinema and the Infrastructure of Modernity

Pambula is situated approximately 30kms south of Bega. Throughout the first half of the 20th century it maintained a permanent population of approximately 300.[21]  The village is typical of similar-sized communities on the Far South Coast in terms of its historic development, demography, topography, relative isolation and strong reliance on primary industries, particularly dairying, as an economic base.[22] In June 1927 William and Walter Godfrey, local garage proprietors, approached the School of Arts committee with a proposal whereby they would supply the township with electricity in return for the sole rights to exhibit moving pictures in the hall on a weekly basis. Neither venture was considered to be economically viable independently. The proposition was immediately accepted. Editor of The Pambula Voice, William Pfeiffer, vigorously promoted the endeavour, congratulating the Godfreys on their “progressive ideas” and urged householders to support the scheme.[23] The Godfrey’s “first production of moving pictures with the electric light” opened at the Pambula Pictures in October 1927 to an over-crowded house. Several days later, at a ceremony attended by local dignitaries and townsfolk, the electric lights were officially switched on accompanied by the rousing cry “Advance Pambula…Let There Be Light.” The Pambula Voice reports:

The chairman of the Progress Association reminded those present that twelve months ago they would have been laughed at if it was said Pambula would be lit up by electricity but it was here now…This would show the vast numbers of tourists passing through that Pambula was not the “dark spot” that it had been in the past…. Any town with electric light was a big advertisement, and showed signs of progress and he [the chairman] considered it another page in the history of our town and district.[24]

The chairman had good reason to boast. As a consequence of the alliance between the School of Arts committee and the Godfrey brothers, Pambula residents were provided with a regular form of entertainment and, almost twenty years in advance of other communities in the region, an affordable electricity supply. Within six months the School of Arts, the Post Office, the Church of England church, the hospital, all the businesses and many of the private homes within the township had connected to the system.[25] Of equal importance, however, was the uplifting effect the arrangement had on both the local economy and the individual and collective self-esteem of residents. The communal sentiment was expressed in an obituary written to commemorate the life of William Godfrey more than forty years after the agreement was instigated.

Business was quiet but electricity brought new life and the effects continued for a long time. People from the ill-lit centres converged on Pambula, especially on Saturdays and entertainments drew happy crowds.[26]

Rethinking the modern

With hindsight, the co-operative arrangements that developed between local business proprietors, tradespersons and civic officers seem to have significantly boosted the social and economic capital of these small and isolated villages. However there is evidence to suggest that, at the time, the rate of change was causing concern in the region. A degree of wistfulness is discernable in this editorial comment published in the Bega District News in 1925 describing the happy crowds of earlier times that had been displaced by the arrival of modern life.

Church Street and Carp Street would be alive with people, and it was difficult to get a footing on the footpath…All the young women of the town and district were out, and paraded the footpaths in the latest fashions. The hotels were open till 11 0’clock and were scenes of life and gaiety…There were no motorcars, telephones or picture shows.[27]

This suggests that the coming of the cinema, cars and telephones was recognised not only as a move towards the future but also a regrettable break with the past. Although these same technologies were promoted throughout the local press in a positive light, this disassociation from the past, with its fondly remembered traditions and communal practices, signals the uncertainty surrounding modernisation and modernity in the district.

As the 1920s progressed the economic hardship that foreshadowed the Great Depression was beginning to be felt, giving residents further reason to count the cost of “modern progress”. Cinema related problems arose in Pambula in 1929 when the local police sergeant refused to re-license the hall unless a costly projection box, built to the rigid specifications prescribed under the newly-amended Public Halls Act, was installed.[28]  Given the agreement that existed linking the cinema to the town’s power supply, committee members had little option but to extend an existing loan and spend money, pre-designated for hall improvements, on the new box. Many residents reacted negatively to the decision and the School of Arts lost the support of a sizeable section of the community. The ladies committee was particularly outraged when the new screening box was placed in the middle of the supper-room, making it difficult to adequately cater for communal activities such as balls and weddings. The women’s response was to withdraw support – fund-raising ceased immediately and indefinitely. The dispute was eventually resolved a decade later, with the School of Arts committee being called upon to give a full explanation “regarding the disposal of certain moneys raised years ago for improvements,” as such an account, it was argued, “would go a long way towards ensuring future help from ladies who formerly helped the institution… Nothing could be done without them.” [29]

This falling-out can be seen as a clash between the traditions of the past and the practices of the modern age. By redirecting community funds raised specifically for the purpose of making the hall more functional for balls and dances to the re-modification of the building for the purpose of film exhibition, the committee gave precedence to the new modern priorities of cinema-going and electricity over long established customs and values. An unintended by-product of the close discursive association between cinema and modernity – so deliberately nurtured by editors, advertisers and proprietors – was the embroiling of cinema in larger concerns that were more properly related to the changing socio/economic practices of the era.

Tension also arose between the upstanding community values associated with the School of Arts institutions and the questionable business ethics of some cinema operators. The most notable example of this occurred in Candelo in 1935 when the School of Arts’ hall, which housed the local pictures, was completely razed by fire. The cinema, the library, the public hall and the town’s only meeting rooms were all destroyed. [30]  Although the resulting Coronial Inquiry could reach no conclusion as to the cause of the blaze, rumours suggesting the non-profitability of the cinema were aired, arson strongly implied and the business activities of the cinema proprietors and managers placed under close scrutiny.

In the face of such controversies and ambiguities newspaper editors – particularly those who were themselves actively involved in the cinema business – worked hard to defend the characteristics of modernity and progress they had so vigorously promoted. As the following newspaper extracts suggest cinema proprietors were elevated to almost hero-like status throughout the local press.

It should be needless to point out that the success of Mr. Downey’s picture enterprise is of real importance to the social life of the town and district…we have no doubt that his future association with the town will not only ensure the community good picture entertainment, but will make a contribution to our common citizenship which will be greatly valued as time goes on.[31]

By bringing the theatre into line with modern development Mr. Burcher is doing a distinct service to the town, for undoubtedly many will come from the outside places to enjoy the latest in the picture world.[32]

Community members were urged to support the cinema not only because it provided a pleasurable, up-to-date evening’s entertainment. Through their patronage they could also help to sustain a venture that was dedicated to the betterment of the township. On both counts, a night at the pictures was an opportunity that “should not be missed.”

In conclusion, because these very small settlements were and are so removed from the hustle and bright lights of the metropolis, it is at this level that our understanding of both Australian cinema history and Australian modernity may be significantly expanded upon. Matthews has demonstrated how modernity made its way into the everyday lives of Sydneysiders through a highly commercialized form of popular culture, at the heart of which was the cinema (p. 239). As in the cities, from the earliest days of exhibition the local cinema was promoted in terms of its relationship with technological progress and a modern way of being. However, on the Far South Coast modernity was as closely linked to the practical concerns of everyday life in a rural environment, such as electricity and new scientific farming methods, as it was to popular culture. Therefore, in contrast to the urban and more generally accepted understanding of modernity which encompasses notions of isolation, fragmentation and individualism, modern progress was managed by the local press agents as a discourse of togetherness, of community members going hand-in-hand into a new and prosperous era. Rural settlements are not just smaller versions of cities. In order to understand the uses to which a specific promotional discourse is being put – and therefore the position of a given product or idea within public opinion at a particular historical juncture – it is necessary to have a keen understanding of where these discourses sit within the broader conversation about rurality. In other words, rural culture must be understood on its own terms. Once this is appreciated, we can see that the history of cinema opens the way for further exploration of the impact of newer communications technologies on rural community identity and culture.

Cited Works

Allen, Robert C. “Relocating American film history – The ‘problem’ of the empirical”, Cultural Studies 20, no. 1, (2006): pp. 48-88.
Benjamin, Walter, edited and with an introduction by Hannah Arendt. Illuminations. Translated by Harry Zohn. London: Collins, 1973.
Bowles, Kate. “‘All the evidence is that Cobargo is slipping’: an ecological approach to rural cinema-going”. Film Studies 10 (Spring 2007): pp. 87-96.
Charney, Leo, and Vanessa Schwartz. Cinema and the Invention of Modern Life. California: University of California Press, 1995.
Cross, David. “Entertainment in the Bega Valley”. Unpaginated. Bega, NSW: Held by Pambula Genealogical Society, Pambula, undated memoir.
Fuller, Kathryn. At The Picture Show: Small-town Audiences and the Creation of Movie Fan Culture. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1996.
Fuller-Seeley, Kathryn H. and George Potamianos. “Introduction: Researching and Writing the History of Movie going”. In Hollywood in the Neighborhood: Historical Case Studies of Local Moviegoing, edited by Kathryn H. Fuller-Seeley, 3-19. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2008.
Fulton, Barbara. “Saturdays in Pambula”. The Valley Genealogist 14, no. 1 (2001): pp. 4-5.
George, Angela. “The Heart of Pambula”. The Magnet, Eden, NSW, 15 April 1997; 22 April 1997.
Gurata, Ahmet. “Hollywood in Vernacular: Translation and Cross-Cultural Reception of American Films in Turkey”. In Going to the Movies: The Social Experience of Hollywood Cinema, edited by Richard Maltby, Melvyn Stokes and Robert C Allen, pp. 333-47. Exeter, UK: University of Exeter Press, 2007.
Gunning, Tom. “An Aesthetic of Astonishment: Early Film and the (in)Credulous Spectator”. In Viewing Positions: Ways of Seeing Film, edited by Linda Williams, pp. 114-33. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1995
Hansen, Miriam B. “America, Paris, the Alps: Kracauer (and Benjamin) on Cinema and Modernity”. In Cinema and the Invention of Modern Life, edited by Leo Charney and Vanessa Schwartz, pp. 362-402. California: University of California Press, 1995.
———“The Mass Production of the Senses: Classical Cinema as Vernacular Modernism”. Modernism/Modernity 6, no. 2 (1999): pp. 59-77.
Kracauer, Siegfried. The Mass Ornament: Weimar Essays. Translated by Thomas Y. Levin. Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 1995.
Matthews, Jill Julius. Dance Hall & Picture Palace: Sydney’s Romance with Modernity. Sydney: Currency Press, 2005.
Ryan, Bruce. “Towns and Settlements of the South Coast”. PhD thesis, Australian National University, 1965.
Singer, Ben. “Modernity, Hyperstimulus, and the Rise of Popular Sensation”. In Cinema and the Invention of Modern Life, edited by Leo Charney and Vanessa Schwartz, pp. 72-95. California: University of California Press, 1995
Waller, Gregory. “Imagining and Promoting the Small-Town Theatre”, Cinema Journal 44, no. 3, (2005): pp. 3-19.
Newspapers
Bega Budget, published and printed Bega, NSW, 1905–1923.
Bega District News, published and printed Bega, NSW, 1923–.
Bega Standard, published and printed in Bega, NSW, 1868–1923.
Bemboka Advocate, published and printed Bemboka, NSW, 1904–1909.
Eden Magnet, published and printed Eden, NSW, 1919–1940.
Magnet and Voice, published and printed Eden, NSW, 1940–1969.
Pambula Voice, published and printed Pambula, NSW, 1892–1940.
Southern Record and Advertiser, published and printed Candelo, NSW, 1904–1938.

Endnotes

[1] Most notably Siegfried Kracauer, The Mass Ornament: Weimar Essays, trans. Thomas Y. Levin (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 1995) and Walter Benjamin, edited and with an introduction by Hannah Arendt, Illuminations, trans. Zohn Harry (London: Collins, 1973).
[2] See for example Ben Singer, “Modernity, hyperstimulus, and the rise of popular sensation”, in Cinema and the Invention of Modern Life, ed. Leo Charney and Vanessa Schwartz (California: University of California Press, 1995); Tom Gunning, “An aesthetic of astonishment: early film and the (in)credulous spectator”, in Viewing Positions: Ways of Seeing Film, ed. Linda  Williams (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1995); Leo Charney and Vanessa Schwartz, Cinema and the Invention of Modern Life (California: University of California Press, 1995).
[3] As referred to by Kathryn H. Fuller-Seeley and George Potamianos, “Introduction: researching and writing the history of moviegoing”, in Hollywood in the Neighborhood: Historical Case Studies of Local Moviegoing, ed. Kathryn H. Fuller-Seeley (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2008).
[4] Robert C. Allen, “Relocating American film history – the ‘problem’ of the empirical”, Cultural Studies 20, no. 1 (2006): pp. 64-5; Kathryn Fuller, At the Picture Show: Small-town audiences and the creation of movie fan culture (Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1996), 28 and Gregory Waller, “Imagining and promoting the small-town theatre”, Cinema Journal 44, no. 3, (2005): pp. 3-19.
[5] Fuller-Seeley and Potamianos, 5.
[6] Miriam B. Hansen, “America, Paris, the Alps: Kracauer (and Benjamin) on cinema and modernity”, in Cinema and the Invention of Modern Life, ed. Leo Charney and Vanessa Schwartz (California: University of California Press, 1995), 365.
[7] See for example Ahmet Gurata in his analysis of cinema-going in Turkey. Gurata describes the “Turkification” process whereby imported films were adapted via dubbing techniques, censorship and marketing to suit the cultural preferences and requirements of the audience. Ahmet Gurata, “Hollywood in vernacular: translation and cross-cultural reception of American films in Turkey”, in Going to the Movies: The Social Experience of Hollywood Cinema, ed. Richard Maltby, Melvyn Stokes, and Robert C Allen (Exeter, UK: University of Exeter Press, 2007).
[8] Miriam B Hansen, “The mass production of the senses: classical cinema as vernacular modernism”, Modernism/Modernity 6, no. 2 (1999): 60.
[9] Jill Julius Matthews, Dance Hall & Picture Palace: Sydney’s Romance with Modernity (Sydney: Currency Press, 2005), 15. Further references to this text appear as page numbers in brackets.
[10] Bruce Ryan, “Towns and settlements of the South Coast” (PhD thesis, Australian National University, 1965), 116.
[11] For an interesting discussion on community ownership of the picture shows see Kate Bowles, “‘All the evidence is that Cobargo is slipping’: an ecological approach to rural cinema-going”, Film Studies 10, (Spring 2007): 87-96.
[12] Pambula Voice, 16 December 1898.
[13] Barbara Fulton, “Saturdays in Pambula”, The Valley Genealogist 14, no. 1 (2001): 4-5.
[14] Bemboka Advocate, 18 September 1909.
[15] Bega District News, 27 November 1964.
[16] Bega Standard, 26 May 1903.
[17] Bega Budget, 12 November 1910.
[18] Concern regarding the deteriorating conditions of the region’s public halls is frequently expressed through the local press. With few external resources available, committees were dependent on the largess and energies of community members for the maintenance, repair and general running of properties, including the halls themselves. The cited examples have been drawn from: Southern Record, 27 September 1935; Pambula Voice 13 May, 1921.
[19]  Bega District News, 18 September 1946.
[20] David Cross, “Entertainment in the Bega Valley” (Bega, NSW: Held by Pambula Genealogical Society, Pambula, undated memoir).
[21] Ryan, 116.
[22]  Ryan, 1-31.
[23] Pambula Voice, 17 June 1927.
[24] Pambula Voice, 14 October 1927.
[25] The plant was powered by a Crossley horizontal diesel engine that generated direct current. Prior to this light was provided by either kerosene or air gas lamps. Magnet and Voice, 28 November 1968.
[26] Magnet and Voice, 28 November 1968.
[27] Bega District News, 31 August 1925.
[28] Pambula Voice, 7 September 1928; 12 October 1928; 6 July 1939. Some of this information is also contained in Angela George, “The Heart of Pambula”, Magnet, 15 April 1997; 22 April 1997.
[29] Pambula Voice, 29 June 1939; 6 July 1939.
[30] Southern Record, 20 September 1935.
[31] Southern Record, 6 November 1936.
[32] Extract of article celebrating the introduction of the Talkies to Bega. Bega District News, 21 March 1931.

Created on: Saturday, 28 March 2009

About the Author

Stephanie Hanson

About the Author


Stephanie Hanson

Stephanie Hanson commenced her PhD candidature through the Faculty of Arts, University of Wollongong, in 2008. She is particularly interested in exploring the relationship between access to communications technology, communal identity and “sense of place” in rural environments. Her current project uses free-to-air television as a case study in the local cultural consequences of poor access to media and communications technologies in rural New South Wales, Australia.View all posts by Stephanie Hanson →