If you followed the statues debate you might have imagined them as grizzled soldiers. They were either our defenders or our adversaries, to be supported or destroyed in battle. The debate does raise important issues, on which I wrote previously, but it ignores the majority of statues which either go unnoticed or are seen as friendly companions. They form part of the rich texture of our daily lives, personal histories and cultural environment. They invite tolerant smiles rather than scowls. This article celebrates a selection of friendly Melbourne statues that have reflected places where they and I have stood. It invites you to make your own selection.
I grew up near the Tommy Bent statue in Brighton. It represents a portly figure, appropriately demanding much brass in the making, and carrying a roll of documents. They were certainly about town planning. He shaped the suburbs around the statue as mayor of Brighton, Premier of Victoria many times, and a master at persuading governments to build railway and tram lines to the land he was developing. As the preference for Tommy over Sir Thomas suggests, he remains popular in a suburb where rent-seeking has been a local sport. His statue has also often been suitably decorated after celebrations, most notably after St Kilda’s only football Premiership.
The Carlton area, where I have lived for much of my life, is full of friendly statues. Down the street is a bust of George Hawkins Ievers above a drinking fountain. His grandfather William Ievers, who with his father is commemorated by George on another drinking fountain in the area, emigrated from Ireland after the gold rush and built up the large family real estate firm. Like Tommy Bent, the Ievers were active in local government, and the monument was erected by George’s grateful constituents for electing him unopposed in the ward for many years. In fact they elected the Ievers dynasty for over 40 years.
Another monument displaying equal gratitude stands on the north-eastern edge of the Melbourne General Cemetery, which also houses the family graves. They are surmounted by a large pedestal topped by a cross, recalling the melancholy truth that even for estate agents Melbourne was no lasting city. When I first came into the area, the eye was naturally drawn from the Ievers graves to the tower of a large house in Royal Parade. This heavy, grey edifice, later replaced by a motel, and probably