The iconic, inspirational Poole house, Buderim
The
Bond University Abedian School of Architecture held it as a full-day
seminar – a series of presentations on the Queensland house:
Dwelling in Queensland - influences, traditions, trajectories
– on Friday, 6 October 2017. The event was well attended, with
generations of architects who had been inspired as a lineage,
learning from Gabrielle Poole and Brit Andressen, making
presentations. Gabrielle Poole and Brit Andressen were both present
as speakers, along with the day’s other presenters: John
Mainwaring; Lindsay (and Kerry) Clare; Brian Donovan; James Russell;
Stuart Vokes; Kernon Gait; and Matthew Eagle. Jackie Cooper and Haig
Beck were there to overview the day in their influential role as
publishers/commentators. There was no coffee and friands to start the
day. Unusually, one was struggling to find a glass and potable water.
Gabrielle Poole and Elizabeth
Brit Andressen
John Mainwaring
Kerry and Lindsay Clare
Everyone
kept saying how ‘historic’ the event was – “Take the photo
now!” - emphasising how significant it was to have such a group of
esteemed architects in one room at the same time. Many speakers and
audience members were overflowing with superfluous thanks for the
attendance of such exceptional professionals. The occasion was seen
as historic, a landmark for this young university: that this fledging
institution had been given such credence, an apparent vote of
confidence by reputable local architects speaking at the university
about their history in Queensland architecture, left the staff
impressed, almost smug. It seemed to be just what the school was
looking for: to be accepted as ‘real’ - relevant, not just an
establishment for the wealthy, those who could afford to pay to
attend Bond University.
The
day was long – 10 hours with one, one-hour break. By mid-afternoon,
one was looking forward to the close-of-days drinks, but these never
materialised. What was a surprise was how the origins of the
Queenslander - the term used for the traditional timber houses in the
state of Queensland, Australia - were spoken about. It was as though
this rehash of things commonplace in the general understanding of
things, almost to the point of becoming a cliché, was new, important
research; relevant, academic commentary; an invigorated
re-interpretation. All the overview did was to regurgitate the
‘traditional’ understanding of the rationale for these lovely
structures: light framing for climate; timber from plentiful local
supplies; high timber stumps for termites, floods, breezes and
terrain; adaptable, moveable structures; tin trims and timber
fretwork for decorative economy; quaint verandahs for inside/outside
sub/tropical life – open, lightweight living, with lattice, light
and shade, all in timber and tin. The presentations were accompanied
by attractive, beguiling images, some obviously pulled from very old
files because the dirt and mould were immediately evident. It was
clear that this story had been told many times before.
These
explanations have all been a part of the understanding of the
Queenslander for very many years, (see, e.g., Bal Saini’s book The
Australian House: Homes of the Tropical North, Lansdowne
Publishing, 1982). Cooper, seemingly speaking for Beck, outlined the
ideas on the origins of these buildings without developing any deeper
or different insights. Why have we not moved on from this? Science,
with its conjectures and refutations, might have encompassed this
explanation with richer and more complex revelations, better
theories. Sadly architecture is not a science, not even the science
of building - (see Ruskin and Pevsner who argued that a bicycle shed
was not architecture; a cathedral was). Architecture is considered to
be more than this rational world, something else vague and
meaningfully ephemeral: perhaps poetic (Vokes).
No
one mentioned it, but Neville Lund's little book on Queensland
Architecture tells it all, even stretches things into Dods and
modernism: to Hayes and Scott and Jim Birrell, (a co-author, along
with E.J.A. Weller: see Buildings of Queensland, E.J.A.
Weller; J. Birrell; N. Lund, Jacaranda Press, 1959). No one even
mentioned Neville Lund’s important study on Robin Dods, (although
Dods was mentioned). This remarkable original research was presented
as his final-year architectural thesis. Why are we happy to repeat
clichés, and ignore the past work of our profession? This book was,
and remains a landmark. It is a real disappointment that it is
neglected. It is a terrible shame that Lund – Neville H. Lund - is
forgotten too. No one mentioned Lund, or Hutton, or Newell; Hurst,
or Morton, or Paulsen, or Ryan. John Dalton was spoken about
obliquely, as was Rex Addison, (more personally by Keniger); but not
one individual from Lund Hutton Newell and Paulsen, previously Ford,
Hutton and Newell, was spoken about. This firm, originally
established in Brisbane as Chambers and Ford, seems to have faded
from the collective memory when, for many years, over a period many
years, it was doing some of the best work in Queensland. It was Lund
who brought a love for things Japanese into his home state. He was an
enthusiastic educator as well as a practising architect; an
inspiration. He built beautiful, tranquil houses - see:
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2014/04/lund-haunting-place-memory.html
He was a gentleman who loved his work. His name does not even appear
on Google apart from being mentioned in one real estate
advertisement; and in the firm’s name in a listing in the
University of Queensland’s archive. Peter Newell worked hard to
develop the public’s interest in Queensland’s heritage. He wrote
many books on the subject, illustrated in pen and ink by Unk White, and others, all published by Rigby, Adelaide. Morrie Hurst and John Morton
brought a vibrant modernism from Britain into Queensland, along with
their special skills and indefatigable ebullience for architecture.
As a working pair, they signed off their drawings ‘JMMH.’ Hutton
loved detailing buildings; Paulsen brought an inspired rigour into
specification writing; Ryan was the master of office management: and
this firm has been forgotten? Is architectural debate only interested
in fads and fashion?
Maurice Hurst sketch for a residence
John Morton's George Street Government Offices, Brisbane - now demolished.
Ours
is a brutally bitchy, self-interested profession; or is it merely
ignorant, lazy, unconcerned with the work of others? Dare one suggest
both? So when it came to the end-of-day attempts to comment on the
future Queensland house, what it might be and become, there was no
surprise to find a muddled view about very little: maybe it will be
the same (Clare); maybe not too different (Vokes); maybe it will be
the shop-house, as in Penang, a multi-use dwelling (Mainwaring) –
see: http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2011/04/living-design.html
and http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2011/04/streets.html
Beck, in his few words for the day, suggested the obvious truism:
that “typologies relate to their era,” like everything does. It
seemed that the impressive word ‘typology’ just had to be used
and knowingly repeated: he seemed to be referring to ‘planning.’
His short statement made after a day of silence said nothing new, and
suggested nothing new: just that things change with time – don't we
all?
Apartments, Mainwaring
But
what of the future? There was a quiet agreement, a latent buzz in the
chat that suggested higher density, low rise dwellings might be the
new solution to Queensland’s housing. No one seemed certain enough
to say this with any commitment. This raises an enigma. On arriving
early for the talk, time was ‘filled in’ by a drive around to
explore some nearby areas that are rarely frequented; the new
developments by the water beyond Bond. There is no lack of higher
density apartment living here – just look: but there is an
appalling lack of quality work that can inspire life, bring meaning
back into it. Planning and building all seem to grasp at some
fashionable bits and pieces to offer a new urban clutter that might
look good in promotional magazines – for a week or two. There is a
strange, ad hoc, but self-conscious quality about these places beyond
any ‘coastal shack’ theme – an array of blue board, steel,
glass and timber battens. It seems to have something uncertainly
fuzzy about it, to do with flimsy, commercial intent and random,
stylistic modes; clichés scattered willy-nilly into the planner’s
pattern and to the planner’s rules. The proposition is that
something else is needed beyond an increase in density. Might it be
ecology? The emphasis was that green spaces should be linked to
provide connectivity for flora, fauna and humans (Andressen). One has
to be careful of the ‘architect and ivy’ joke becoming a reality.
Poetics
was mentioned, and things spiritual too, (but not too religious, as
if the mystery might be useful, but not the meaning); and some
interesting projects were shown to support this vision (Vokes).
Bachelard’s book, (Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space),
had been noted previously. It was suggested that David Malouf,
(Johnno, UofQ
Press), must have read it. Could this parallel have been an
Edison/Swan, Newton/Pascal situation? What was rarely illustrated
was the work in its context, although context was frequently
mentioned as being important, indeed, an inspiration. The words
appeared to frame a matter that the work, and its presentation as an
idea, an ideal, avoided or ignored. Photos were mostly cropped
carefully to isolate the reading of place, limiting the range to
nothing beyond the immediate subject – see:
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2017/10/the-need-for-street-view-in-architecture.html
Neighbouring buildings could only been seen as snippets, if at all.
It reminded one of McCloud’s Grand Designs – see:
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2013/02/grand-design.html
When the region was illustrated, which was rare, the new work stood
out like a sore thumb. Now this is too extreme; it is too careless,
too casual an analogy. Let’s just say that the work stood out; that
it looked strangely isolated. One wonders: how can we build to embody
quality and meaning without glaring difference and forced
distinction; without any declaration of ME; without any demarcation?
Is all new architectural work in some way a protest?
Poole house
Architects
still spoke mostly about ‘their’ work and ‘their’
inspirations – sometimes identifying other stimulative projects
that were similarly illustrated as detached ‘gems.’ Is isolation
the issue here? One struggles to recall a project that sits as
beautifully in its context as does the toilet block at Lerwick –
see:
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2013/05/the-mareel-new-arts-complex-for-lerwick.html
- a small building that respects everything around it without apology
or any concession to function or expression.
Analysing
Gold Coast shacks and using the set of distinguishing notations as
rules for action (Eagle), is really only an academic, intellectual
game: interesting, but contrived. It will guarantee nothing but the
attendance to rules, and a good talk. The approach has very little to
do with actual contextual outcomes.
While
everyone was talking earnestly about architecture, meaning and
context, no comment was made on the school itself. The day was held
in the Abedian School of Architecture ‘Archigram’ open, concrete
and glass ‘forum’ space which is not really a good auditorium or
forum space (see:
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2014/10/exploring-definition-edge-condition-of.html
) Even the custom-made chairs are uncomfortable, but they maintain
the arty theme of all the joinery. The multi-purpose lecture space
overlooks the nearby carillon that, at twelve o’clock, burst out
into a bizarre, bell-ringing “When the saints come marching in.”
Why? As with the awkward problems of the space that everyone was in,
there was not one comment on this absurd intrusion; not one grimace;
not one smile: nothing. It just so happened that it welcomed Brit
Andressen to the lectern, with perfect timing: dare one say it - “the
saint arrives”? This coincidence in context was accepted as though
it meant nothing. With such a lack of sensitivities, one wonders at
the future of architecture and our environment. It has to involve
more than clever intellectual games and particular skills seeking
attention: humour and self-criticism have a role. Brit did comment on the space later, noting how the students leaning over the third-floor
balustrade observing the events were predicted by Peter Cook in his
early drawings of the building.
But
there are other matters that are a problem with our attempts to
create a better environment – both built and natural. These could
be described as ‘ecological,’ involving a broad understanding of
wholeness. The concerns are more than any theoretical and emotional
commitment. They have to do with planning and enforcement – with
real outcomes and how these are achieved. Why might the profession
bother with anything but outcomes? A short street, with about a dozen
properties side by side on only one side of this road, comes to mind
by way of example. Here planning rules and building regulations have
been handled helter-skelter. Built elements break rules that all seem
very clear, and no one cares, not even the local Council that
formulated the laws. It seems that one can do whatever one likes:
build out two metres plus onto the footpath; construct decks to the
front boundary; build to whatever height one wants; erect four-metre
high fences; paint houses black; purple; whatever, all when specific
colours have been identified in the LAP; and more.# On questioning
these circumstances, these outcomes, it is discovered that these
‘solutions’ have all been ‘approved’ by private certifiers.
Local Council is keen to wipe its hands of these matters, wanting
nothing to do with them. Why is this so when Council sets the rules
for others to enforce? What are the ambitions here; the intent? Why
have rules? It is this loose, ad hoc carelessness that makes it seem
anything is possible; the outcomes appear to confirm that this is so.
Just look at our cities and despair. Visions need to be specific,
achievable and enforceable. Defining ‘typologies’ becomes an
intellectual game, perhaps just a legal exercise, when they have no
relationship with everyday results. But what are the rules that will
best serve our future? What is the vision?
The
point is: why does Council only appear to enforce its rules as a
matter of spite; political convenience? Council harangued one
individual who painted a house a non-LAP-approved orange, with a
persistence and commitment that would be admirable if it was applied
more rationally and consistently. We need better environments, but
Councils are too flexible; too accommodating: they lack rigour in
planning. Developers trade off density for simplistic issues, as if,
e.g., a slim public pathway might equate to three extra floors in
some value trading system, with no guarantee that the path will not
be gated off at some future date, or indeed, constructed. If we are
to build a better place, a more meaningful environment, a more vital
and vibrant place, we need an inclusive embellishing, an enrichment
of multiplicity, not a horse-trading of qualities for singular
one-by-one, one-for-one exclusions. It is not a matter of either/or,
but of the many-fold within the guiding parameters, and having these
implemented.
The
core problem with this rogue trading is that Town Planners write
plans that seem deliberately structured to be open to multiple
interpretations, left vague, defining whatever, nothing, all to allow
for the negotiated resolution – see:
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2013/05/town-planning-visions.html
Agreements are made in private to avoid court cases where judges,
apparently much to the chagrin of Council officers, decide planning
matters. Approvals are written just as obscurely, full of conditions
that respond to, quash, all objections, formulating matters that are
frequently subject to further secret agreement with Council officers
at a later time and place beyond public scrutiny: ‘as to be agreed
with . . .’ Even the approval conditions are able to be
renegotiated out of the public eye. Conditions are sometimes
implemented or not, but no one in authority seems to be bothered.
This careless approach leaves the future uncertain, open to abuse.
It
does not help when some architects rise to tell they they have
cheated too, but cleverly; being secretly proud of this smarty-pants
ruse that tricked authorities into approving something that was not
allowed (Vokes). This activity sets an example for developers to
follow, using different criteria with varying ambitions.
Then
there is successful suburbia: it is everywhere and growing, but
architects bleat on, complaining about how bad it is, responding with
individual designs to show how suburban solutions can be better
managed; life more meaningfully accommodated. Yet the development
mess continues. How can this be changed? Educating the masses will
never work; it would never be accepted, just as educating architects
would never be considered an answer: and having a couple of good,
‘understanding’ builders has done nothing to modify anything but
the architects’ stories. People keep wanting suburbia: and why not
when the issue is cost and fitting in, the ‘norm.’ When a project
house of over 300sqm with a swimming pool can be erected for
something like $300,000, why should ‘the man in the street’ want
to use an architect when one might struggle to provide 100sqm or so
for this money, with the cost of the pool going on the fees? It all
becomes a difficult issue to resolve. Is it the ‘plasterboard’
phobia that turns architects away from this challenge? This sheet
material was mentioned a few times throughout the day, disparagingly,
with a mocking delight and silent applause. One presentation promoted
the open stud wall, complete with exposed bracing and outer
weatherboard lining as being superior to this sheeting product, in a
bathroom. It might be ‘arty,’ but it becomes a hard sell. Why is
there this protest against the common products; ordinary items? Can
beauty not be embodied in things simple, cheap and everyday? Is
architecture just an elite, intellectual enterprise?
The
matters are indeed complex, for when one begins to hear that
architecture is about poetics and things ‘almost’ spiritual –
(one never wants to get too close to religion in these matters, but
using some of the words is okay) – then a complex set of subtle
issues is raised. Individuals are challenged personally; architects
too: but are we engulfed in this period of quantity, unable to know
or be interested in anything but amount; seeing everything
rationally, as numbers? The ancient craftsman was said to have
concentrated before beginning his work. What is this stance? What is
the experience that allows an architect to see beauty in his own
work; to be surprised by it? (Vokes). Things personal, yes,
religious, do become involved – but how can this be raised today
beyond a few ‘poetic’ words that sound acceptably subtle in the
academic discussion that seeks recognition in self-promotion seeking
self-promotion? Self- praise is the concern, along with many other
things that become difficult to articulate today when logical,
reasoned thinking holds fashionable sway with things ‘scientific’
getting involved in matters ‘poetic.’
These
issues are not easy to discern, let alone resolve. The one matter
that needs to be raised is very unfashionable, not PC at all: what if
the caste structure is an inherent part of society; that there are
essential differences in people? This era finds it more and more
difficult, is increasingly reluctant, to define any particular
gender, let alone any other apparently less explicit differences in
people. Some years ago, there was an exhibition of Macedonian art in
Queensland. What was impressive about this show was not only the
magnificent, beautifully detailed, delicately intricate gold diadems,
bracelets and necklaces of the kings and queens, but also the pieces
of jewellery for the remainder of the population. These ‘lesser’
works were similar in form to the golden pieces, but were made in
cheaper metals, using various forms of fabrication that allowed mass
production: some moulds were displayed; and some presses. It was
clear that there was the golden world of the upper class, and the
more mundane pieces for the others, the commoners. It will be an
awkward matter to raise, but one has to ask if architecture is
inherently structured similarly, by and for classes.
In
Queensland, there was a time when this proposition could be refuted,
when architects were documenting ordinary, tiny timber and tin
cottages using the standard pieces, parts, and methods, while also
designing grand public buildings. There appeared to be no
differentiation in effort between the simplest and cheapest, the
modest home, and the most flamboyant and civic of structures, other
than in outcome. They were from the same hand.
Today
this is rare. While the masses reside happily in the developers’
suburbia or sets of apartments, others, the few, search out different
dreams and architects who will provide the preferred divergent
schemes, complete with the rationale, the storyline to embellish the
stand, the stance – for it does end up looking like some sort of
exhibitionism. It might be analogous to the exposure of the model on
the walkway asking, begging to be looked at; or the clever gymnast
doing likewise on the wires.
The
logic and necessity of the caste structure has been argued, even
though it is awkward for us to comprehend this today. The profession
seems to find it difficult to extricate itself from this hierarchical
pattern of social space, place, of dwellings and other complexes,
their unique expression. One only has to look at Street View to
understand how our cities are a confounding complex of buildings of
all importances, from the shambles of the shack and ruin, to the
elegant grandeur of the opera house or a parliamentary complex (see:
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2017/10/the-need-for-street-view-in-architecture.html
) Everything is assembled in this ad hoc sprawl, with only a very few
buildings being isolated for magazine publication. The vast majority
of structures get erected without fanfare and fans: the admirers are
very few. Just look at New York and ponder the number and variety of
buildings. Yet, ironically, it is this insignificant infill that
makes our cities what they are; such is their extent. What would New
York be without these? Suburbia is like this, no matter how we
dislike it. It is our city and this conglomerate building mass gives
it the character that we know, in spite of any protest that might be
expressed as an intruding architectural masterpiece proving that
there is a problem, (or does it become one itself?), suggesting the
solution. Our cities are really commonplace: lower caste efforts that
are interspersed with the upper class highlights – the golden
diadems glisten as wonders in the ordinary world of the everyday
leaden forms, dulled by repetition and lesser, copycat styling in
cheap materials. Is this the way it has to be? History suggests not -
just look at the old villages: but something more is needed;
something apparently beyond us today. It is not only density and
multiple levels.
So
the future of the Queenslander? One might hope for a greater
involvement from the profession in all the very broad aspects of
design and planning, (which is design too), but much has to happen to
achieve this. Humility has to become a core principle of action, as
does concentrated commitment, care and concern in all matters, an
involvement exercised with true skill. Traditional art created some
astonishing things that amaze us still; the artist was irrelevant;
the ambition was social and shared, and was known. The work was
nothing individual in any way; nor was it individually expressive.
The artist, as Ananda Coomaraswamy pointed out, (Christian and
Oriental Philosophy of Art,
Dover), was not a
special kind of man; every man was a special kind of artist.
We
will have no real improvement in anything but self-importance in
self-expression until we again reach this situation. The pathway to
it is seemingly unknown to us, and uncharted. Exercising those
subtle, simple emotional stances of the artist of old may be a good
beginning, but it will demand a core change in society even for this
to be understood, encompassed. It is certainly a difficult path, but
it is one that has to be taken eventually: when, one does not know;
how, likewise; if, . . . One might assume that such an change is out
of our hands – but we can try. Being what one might wrongly call
‘honest’ in everything we do, (for want of a better word not
pre-loaded with other meanings and associations), will be a good
start – honest with ourselves and with others, (not that there is
rampant dishonesty in the profession), while diminishing the easy,
indulgent effort of self-promotion and tempting self-congratulations,
even with the very best intentions: a knowing of what one is doing
when doing it would be a good beginning, as the Buddhists recommend.*
The
day finished as it started, unfortunately without any of the usual
hors d’oeurves and champagne. These little things were missed and
took the edge of the usual welcome. Is the school suffering from
budget problems? It is really a simple matter to offer refreshments,
especially when the place is so keen to lap up the accreditation it
gains from these days when the profession freely shares its time and
offers its support.
THE 'QUEENSLANDER'
The 'Queenslander' has been idealised as a model for regional housing. This rose-coloured perspective of the form and the life-style it supported seems to have been transported into our daily lives as a hopeful guide, a model of excellence. These old photographs should help us understand the reality of life in the era when the houses were built. The majority of these homes were kit homes, built from catalogues as a package deal that came with a variety of options. Stories tell that after one week, the gutters were ready to be installed.
Critics point out that, in spite of the interpretation of these structures and their lifestyle as being a perfect model for their climate, these houses were hot in summer and cold in winter - poorly insulated both for sound and temperature, poorly ventilated, and poorly lit: they were poorly planned, and used space inefficiently, diagrammatically. The kitchens were rudimentary, as were the bathrooms that sometimes were an infilled add-on, either on a portion of the verhandah, (enclosed), or under the house. The toilet was an earth closet in the backyard. The openness that is so praised in the vision let the house exposed to flies, midges, cockroaches, ants and mosquitoes. The buildings were constructed in an era when folk could leave their houses unlocked; when families were large and kept together; when one knew one's neighbours. Frequently verandahs were enclosed as sleeping areas to accommodate the numbers.
The promotional praise for this built form ignores the fact that these houses were plonked anywhere and everywhere - cheek-by-jowl in suburbia, and alone in the open paddock of the farm; in the cold highlands as well as the hot and humid tropics and the dry and dusty west: they were a universal kit for all locations and occasions. One could make an argument for them as being the equivalent of the suburban house today that ignores its context. This is not a popular view, as the Bond day revealed. There was no criticism of the model, apart from that of Russell, whose rationale for all of his work was to cut out the dark, poorly ventilated core of the home and make the verandah the dwelling, open, flooded with breezes, sunlight and moonlight.
Matters of privacy and security sought today were ignored in the 'Queenslander.'.
Envisioning this model as an ideal only isolates any critique and perpetuates the problems of understanding how needs and forms and typologies should to be responsive to functions, location and context; that they frame, encompass a lifestyle. Interpreting other eras through our experience is always dangerous, as we layer our understandings with only good, better and best perceptions all together, seeing nothing else but gold when it is only sunlight on tin.
The picturesque seems to have more to do with the positive viewing of these places than anything else. The Joyce images in Saini's book are truly delicious, wondrous, and promote these places in rich, mysterious colour and decorative, luminous light and shade. The power of photography is able to isolate, to create new images and different readings of forms and lives that would be a real challenge for us today. Still, it is very fashionable to drool on about the 'Queenslander' in spite of its many failings. Things 'poetic' dramatise the readings on all levels and develop a desire to be there - if only: ahhhh!. We do need to be both, rational and poetic if we are to truly understand.
THE DREAM REVIVED
It is interesting to note how the revival has become mere stylistic invention. Not one of these images shows any people, any life. It is all about appearance.
#
NOTE
The illegally constructed carport in another location also needs noting. This structure, built without any approvals, is about 1900mm high, and only about just as deep. Any vehicle other than a very small one projects out onto the footpath. Items on a roof rack project out further. Council could not care less. Nothing has ever been done about this shambles. Such a lack of care leaves our cities with the same conditions - a lack of rules - that create the slums.
*
NOTE 17 November 2017
Amos Ih Tiao Chang sums up the position at the end of his book, The Tao of Architecture:
Intangible
content gives life-quality to architectonic form; creative
forgetfulness gives life-quality to architecture; and spiritual being
gives life-quality to life itself. Of these three aspects of
non-being, intangible content in architectonic form is the subject of
this investigation. Creative forgetfulness and spiritual being are
mentioned because only through the integration of the three does
knowledge acquire its significance.
The
life-quality of architecture, like the life-quality of humanity
itself, exists not only in the realm of the material but also in the
realm of intangibility, the realm that each man must find and conquer
for himself.
Amos
Ih Tiao Chang, The Tao of Architecture, Princeton, 1956,
reprinted 2017: p.72.
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