No Fizz, Fizz, Fizz: Champagne Mathieu at the opening of the National Library of Australia

Yesterday, August 15, was the 55th birthday of the National Library of Australia, which was opened in 1968 by Australian Prime Minister John Gorton. A Greek-styled monument, the birthday cake as it is affectionately known, was the first building opened along the banks of the recently completed Lake Burley Griffin.

^{David Reid, National Library of Australia, c. 1968, nla.gov.au/nla.obj-136761196/view.}

I was procrastinating over the thesis in the Library a couple of months ago and I came across a scrapbook of press cuttings regarding the Library’s grand opening. One of the Librarians caught me and, enabling my procrastination, in a good way, suggested I pen a blog post for the Library’s 55^th birthday, which I did.

The anecdote that did not get included, which I absolutely love, is the story of Hungarian-French artist and designer, Mathieu Matégot and the “grog” controversy. Canberra is no stranger to ‘grog controversies’, but I think this just pips the ‘Duke of Gloucester / Joseph Lyons’ anecdote at the post.

Mathieu Matégot took on the commission to create tapestries for the Library’s foyer. The Three Tapestries took two years to create and were placed in pride of place in the foyer. Arts correspondent for The Australian, Laurie Thomas thought the tapestries’ positioning was not to the advantage of the foyer or the visitor, “they too, are powerful”, though “splintered” and discombobulating when one “become[s] conscious, far too conscious, of things like sheep’s heads and pineapples”. (The Australian, 15 August 1968, page 9.)

^{Trilogy of Tapestries pinched directly from the National Library’s website.}

However, the tapestries themselves were not the controversy of the day.

“A diplomatic row blew up today over a champagne party in the new National Library”, wrote Claudia Wright of Melbourne’s Herald. It appears that the French cultural attaché, Monsieur Henri Souillac, had organised a champagne reception in the foyer for Monsieur Matégot and his tapestries. However, the Library’s chairman, Sir Archibald Grenfell Price, decided “at the last minute” that the event would be “no liquor”.

“A champagne row”, led Melbourne’s The Sun report of the opening.

“Not today”, the French contingent were told as they arrived at the National Library with a car full of ice-cold French champagne, despite Monsieur Souillac’s exclamation, “it is for M. Matégot to meet the press”! (Courier Mail, ‘Honours to the French’, 16 August 1968.)

^{Mr Henri Souillac, French attaché, Mathieu Matégot and unknown gentleman.}

“You could call it a storm in a teacup – but it was really a champagne glass, and the champers was French.”

However, that did not stop the French from having a great opening, enjoying the formalities before moving their party to another venue in the capital where they could “pop, pop, pop” all night long.

A photograph of Matégot appeared in the Herald on 17 August with the caption: “French painter Mathieu Matégot downs a meat pie, [an Australian delicacy he loved], with champagne at his non-party before the opening.” As the saying sorta goes, ‘when life gives you lemons, make champagne and eat a meat pie’!

The National Library at night, c. 1968 – nla.gov.au/nla.obj-136760768/view

_{* Inspiration for champagne references is and always will be Edward Woodward’s version of Champagne Charlie, from his 1975 album, Edwardian Woodward, an Elliott Family favourite.}

Don’t Keep History A Mystery: Vincent Lingiari and the Wave Hill Walk Off

I came across a scrapbook of press cuttings for the National Library of Australia’s opening months (on this day, 15 August 1968) and it got me thinking about other significant anniversaries that occurred around this time.

Seven years and one day after the National Library of Australia opened the doors to its new building on the banks of Lake Burley Griffin, Vincent Lingiari and Australian Prime Minister Gough Whitlam met at Wattie Creek and with speeches and the symbolic gesture of a handful of soil, a nine-year protest about workers rights and sovereignty reached its conclusion. (Photograph by Mervyn Bishop in the National Library of Australia; nla.gov.au/nla.obj-153513023/view.)

On 23 August 1966, Lingiari and 200+ Gurindji men, woman and children, left the cattle station of Lord Vestey at Wave Hill and began the long walk to Wattie Creek. On this anniversary of the gathering at Wattie Creek and in the year in which Australia will have a chance to acknowledge all First Nations peoples with The Voice Referendum, it seems fitting to reflect upon the Wave Hill Walk Off and bring my 2019 post to the fore.

You can read more from Thomas Mayo on Vincent in his book, Freedom Day, and his books for young and old about the Uluru Statement from the Heart and The Voice Referendum.

And as I did with the post from 2019, I want to leave Vincent Lingiari with the last word; words so appropriate as the country thinks about The Voice Referendum and whether they will be voting yes or no.

“Let us live happily together as mates, let us not make it hard for each other.
…We want to live in a better way together, Aboriginals and white men, let us not fight over anything, let us be mates.”