With the winnowing of time and the emphasis given to particular artists in our constructed histories of art (be it international, national or regional) it is often difficult to determine why artists were considered to be innovatory in their time. The works so judged survive but not the context which enabled them to achieve this prominence. So it is with Vida Lahey. It may seem a desperate measure to consider a flower painter as a vehicle for modernist ideas, but the art environment in Brisbane was particularly conservative and Vida Lahey's vibrant flower paintings were a significant presence.

Debates over water and related issues have become prominent in twenty-first century Australia, where global warming is combining with climatic extremes to produce a volatile public and politics. The specific context of the Gold Coast Desalination Project, to be analysed here, was a prolonged drought earlier in the decade that reduced dams in densely populated South-East Queensland to unprecedented levels. This situation in turn triggered water rationing and uncertainty about the capacity of existing infrastructure to supply one of the fastest-growing areas of Australia. During the crisis, the Queensland state government was criticised in the press for mismanagement of water resources before the drought, and for the inadequate water situation, which ultimately led to the construction of a desalination plant. The period of this study covers the plant's construction and implementation. Capable of providing up to 125 million litres of clean, fresh drinking water to the South-East Queensland region every day, the desalination plant — which remains politically contentious — began in 2006 and was operational in early 2009.

Thea Astley is a figure who is strongly associated with music, both in her life interests and in her writing rhythms and allusions; this article investigates the uses of music in her 1972 novel The Acolyte. Drawing on a recent genre of critical musicology that understands music to be a social practice, The Acolyte is read in relation to mid-twentieth-century cultural debates around the development of a distinctive Australian classical music. Centring on the blind pianist turned composer Jack Holberg, The Acolyte is grounded in the Gold Coast hinterland as an inspiring and generative landscape, in contrast with the desolate outback favoured in national mythologies. Holberg’s ‘Gold Coast Symphony’, arguably the turning point of the novel, imaginatively writes this coastal fringe of urban debauchery into the vernacular of classical music through its performance in conservative 1960s Brisbane. In this article, I read The Acolyte as a novel positioned within an Australian musicological history that intersects with the poetics of place, the politics of gender and sexuality, and ongoing national formations through cultural production.

Gold Coast beaches oscillate in the cultural imagination between everyday reality and a tourist's paradise of ‘sun, surf and sex’ (Winchester and Everett 2000: 59). While these narratives of selfhood and becoming, egalitarianism and sexual liberation punctuate the media, Gold Coast literary fictions instead reveal the beach as a site of danger, wholly personifying the unknown. Within Amy Barker's Omega Park, Melissa Lucashenko's Steam Pigs, Georgia Savage's The House Tibet and Matthew Condon's Usher and A Night at the Pink Poodle, the beach is a ‘masculine’ space for testing the limit of the coastline and one's own capacity for survival. This article undertakes a close textual analysis of these novels and surveys other Gold Coast fictions alongside spatial analysis of the Gold Coast coastline. These fictions suggest that the Gold Coast is not simply a holiday world or ‘Crime Capital’ in the cultural imagination, but a mythic space with violent memories, opening out onto an infinite horizon of conflict and estrangement.

Beginning as early as A Descant for Gossips (1960), gay men and gay love come and go in Thea Astley’s prose oeuvre. The responses that these characters and this topic invite shift with point of view and under the impact of varied themes. Astley’s treatment refuses to be contained, either by traditional Catholic doctrines about sex or by Australia’s delay in decriminalising homosexual acts. Driven by love for her gay older brother Philip, whose death from cancer corresponded with her final allusions to gay love in The Multiple Effects of Rainshadow (1996), Astley’s only constant message on this, as on other topics, is humans’ responsibility to treat each other with kindness. This essay draws on Karen Lamb’s biography and on writings and reminiscences by Philip Astley’s family and fellow Jesuits to reveal his significance as his sister sought to resolve through her fiction the conflict between an inculcated Catholic idolisation of purity and her own hard-won understanding and acceptance of gay men.

This article sets out to explain how the relatively unremarkable 2018 by-election result in which a sitting Labor candidate held her seat with a mediocre swing towards her resulted in the panicked removal of Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull from office and his immediate resignation from the parliament. The combined Queensland state Coalition party, the Liberal National Party, convinced itself that it could win the marginal outer-metropolitan seat of Longman in Queensland but when its expectations were dashed, it became spooked and set in train a chain of events that ousted Turnbull and installed Scott Morrison as prime minister. Turnbull was widely seen by the Coalition party room as having run a lack-lustre campaign in the 2016 federal election, and not having performed well in the 2018 by-election campaigns. Perhaps unwisely, Turnbull made the Longman by-election a direct leadership contest between himself and opposition leader Bill Shorten. However, Labor’s tactics in the by-election ‘outmanned, outspent and out-campaigned’ the Coalition’s faltering campaign in the seat, causing the relatively unremarkable outcome in Longman to become a catalyst for a challenge to Turnbull’s leadership. When parliament reconvened, Peter Dutton became the ‘stalking horse’ who resulted in the rise of Scott Morrison to the top office.

This article is an intervention in debates about the reputation of Australian writers, with specific reference to the career of Thea Astley (and, as a ‘benchmark’, Randolph Stow). It argues that the terrain in which reputations are made and books are valued is complex and uneven, particularly when viewed from regional perspectives. The aim is to shift the focus in ‘reception’ from single fields, such as book sales, literary prizes, critical attention and international recognition, to show a more complex literary ecology within which authors might simultaneously ‘rise’ and ‘fall’ in different ways. The data supporting this claim come from a variety of sources, including newspaper databases, schools and libraries, although the article is ‘preliminary’ in the sense that it does not investigate the substance of the quantitative data compiled — for example, it does not consider in depth the reviews or kinds of stories that were carried in the press. The discussion of reputation aims to keep Astley’s oeuvre and style in view, in order to consider why and how Astley might be ‘neglected’ and how this neglect might be addressed.

In 1989, corruption inquiry commissioner Tony Fitzgerald, QC gave a qualified tick to the use of government media units and press secretaries in his landmark report, which ushered Queensland into an age of accountability.

After an inquiry that included 238 public sitting days and 339 witnesses, his view was that it was both ‘legitimate and necessary’ for ministers, departments and public instrumentalities to employ staff to help keep the public informed. He warned, however, against control and manipulation of information and counselled there was no legitimate justification for politically motivated propaganda funded by taxpayers:

The likelihood that climate change may destroy the Great Barrier Reef has been a central motif in Australia’s climate change politics for more than a decade as political ideologies and corporate and environmental activism draw or refute connections between the coal industry and climate change. The media fuel this debate because in this contest, as ever, the news media always do more than simply report the news. Given that the Reef has also been central to the evolution of Australia’s environmental laws since the 1960s, it is not surprising that the Reef is now a leading actor in efforts to test the capacity of our environmental laws to support action on climate change. In this contribution, we examine the news coverage of the Australian Conservation Foundation’s (ACF) 2015 challenge to Adani’s Carmichael coal mine to observe the discursive struggle between the supporters and opponents of the mine. Our analysis of the case shows that while the courts are arenas of material and symbolic contest in the politics of climate change in Australia, public interest environmental litigants struggle both inside and outside the courts to challenge the privileging of mining interests over the public interest.

In 2004, the National Sea Change Taskforce (NSCT) was established in response to the way in which accelerated growth and development in sea change communities is negatively impacting on those areas' ecology, society and economy. The NSCT is a collective of more than 68 council planners from around Australia charged with working collaboratively with state and federal tiers of government to develop policies that will protect the coastal environment and establish sustainable limits to growth.

In 1990, the Queensland Government launched its now discredited Home Ownership Made Easy scheme. HOME provided financial assistance to ‘moderate’ income earners by offering fixed interest, low start loans, and was accompanied by HOME Shared and HOME Buy which targeted public housing tenants. While HOME differed from past programs in its detail, it can be seen as the most recent attempt by a State Labor Government to extend owner occupation in Queensland. Between 1915 and 1957, the Queensland Labor Party actively sought to promote home ownership through a range of programs including the Workers' Dwellings and Workers' Homes schemes. These programs were a reflection of a fundamental belief in home ownership as ‘every man's right’ and as an ‘essential’ element of the ‘Australian way of life’. Thus, Queensland Labor displayed none of the ambivalence which characterised Labor Party attitudes to home ownership elsewhere in Australia. Williams contends that the Australian Labor Party was trapped between its commitment to assisting the poor, its reluctance to play the role of landlord, and its support for home ownership. The Queensland Party experienced no such ideological quandary. While other Labor Governments tended to accept an obligation to provide public rental accommodation for those unable to buy homes of their own, Queensland Labor continued to display a distaste for ‘public landlordism’.

On 5 May 1897, just over a century ago, the Queensland International Exhibition opened in Brisbane. This, the seventh international exhibition to be held in Australia, was Queensland's contribution to the great series of world expos that followed London's famous Crystal Palace Exhibition of 1851. The exhibition also marked Queensland's recovery from a disastrous depression of the early 1890s, proclaiming to the world that Queensland was now on a steady path of progress. Contemporaries viewed the exhibition with mixed feelings: to some it was a ‘dazzling display’; to others ‘a frost’ (a nineteenth-century term for ‘a fizzer’). ‘Frost’ or not, the event was soon forgotten after it closed three months later, and hardly rated a mention at the time of its recent successor, World Expo '88.

Brisbane author Nick Earls holds a position of exceptional significance for a writer in his home town. After some 10 years in the literary limelight, Earls was chosen as the face of the city in a television and print media campaign for Brisbane tourism (the ‘It's happening’ campaign), suggesting that he and his work would be widely recognised, and his opinions respected — key reasons for choosing a celebrity to promote any product. Earls represents a new type of public role for writers, who often must cross boundaries of intellectual respectability and popular cultural or ‘celebrity’ appeal to succeed in the current media climate. Leading up to the Brisbane promotional campaign, Earls had a long association with the local press, which enabled him to work simultaneously as a serious author, comedian, boy-next-door and social commentator. His decision, in his early published novels, to make maximal, unapologetic use of Brisbane as a setting earned him the title of ‘Brisbane's favourite son’ (MacColl 1998). At times he has used this title to his advantage; at other times the press has made him work in an ambassadorial role for Brisbane even as the themes and scenes of his writing were changing. Earls has also had considerable international success, particularly with his first novel for adults, Zigzag Street. Using theories about the production of celebrities and close analysis of Earls' press coverage, this article examines the author as a text, looking at the interaction between Earls, his novels and the broader condition of the contemporary publishing and media industries for clues as to how Earls, over other Brisbane writers, found himself with the keys to the city.

When analysed in context, prison graffiti can provide valuable insight into the lived experiences of incarcerated individuals. This study uses Brisbane's Boggo Road Gaol as a case study site to evaluate the importance of historical, social and political context in the interpretation of prison graffiti. Visual ethnographic methodology was employed to allow the triangulation of various contextualising resources: newspaper articles, government reports, biographies and institutional records, and the graffiti. We discuss the theme of resistance as an example to demonstrate the value of the contextual analysis of images. By locating the graffiti within the historical, social and political context that it was produced, the significance of the graffiti is identified, and the ambiguity associated with the interpretation of images potentially is reduced. A contextualised analysis of prison graffiti provides a narrative of prison life, allowing the independent expression of prisoners to be ‘heard’.