BY CHRIS JOHNSON, NSW GOVERNMENT ARCHITECT
Sydney owes an enormous debt to George Proudmann, a master mason, heritage
expert and wonderful character who died on Saturday, 18 March 2000.
George Proudmann saw the character of Sydney in its yellow block sandstone,
and he put 30 years into ensuring that this was looked after. His
background was in the traditional craft of stone masonry, but he went on to
become an advocate and carer for the city's soul and character.
George was dedicated to his chosen craft of stone masonry. He would talk of
the "Zen-like process" of using the chisel repetitively to carve a piece of
stone. He would also talk of the city as a place of elegance, and of the
need for a "sense of place". He saw our old buildings as being young - "a
hundred years is nothing" - but it was the connection with the past that
George saw as being so important. He envisaged the past as "like an
extended family".
George Proudmann set up the Government Stoneyard within the Department of
Public Works and Services. He instigated a training programme for young
apprentices to learn the craft. He introduced new technology with laser
saws but, most importantly, he saw the need to care for the sandstone
buildings that make Sydney a special place.
One of my last memories of George is typical of his love of stone. It was a
site visit to the location of a Memorial to Volunteers planned for Mrs
Macquarie's Peninsula in the Royal Botanic Gardens. Richard Leplastrier was
designing the memorial, but George became part of the process suggesting
the use of a "scuntion" - a giant piece of stone that would be part buried
in the grass. George sat on a weathered sandstone rock, breathing heavily,
while he watched Richard and the assembled experts view the site. Somehow
the whole group ended up gathering around George, listening to his stories
of how sandstone is weathered through its soft underbelly. To George the
natural sandstone on the Peninsula was alive and something he understood
completely.
George loved interacting with all those involved on the many projects of
our city. He would often ring me to suggest who should design a particular
building. His robust, friendly, warm, effervescent character endeared him
to many Sydney-siders. We often had drinks at George's home with its stone
verandah and its sandstone table - George himself looked like he had been
carved in stone.
Although he has passed away, I am sure he is close by, in the scuntions,
the gargoyles, the sandstone outcrops that are so much a part of Sydney.
But George knows that he has established a new generation of masons who
will experience the "Zen-like process" of carving, and who will look after
the essential sandstone structure that gives Sydney its elegance and its
"sense of place".