State Of Dux

I'm back in Christchurch, or what's left of it. At the moment it's more accurately named Christchurchless after God decided to shake things up a bit to see which of his houses was built on sand.

It was a beautiful day on Sunday and as there were no churches left to go to pray to God to stop knocking down churches, I ventured into the city centre with my folks to see what was left of my hometown and most importantly to see firsthand the state of The Dux. International readers who have never been to Christchurch will be in the dark as to what The Dux is, so here's a link to shed some light. Locals used to flock religiously to The Dux every Sunday to honour the holy spirit of their choice by tipping it down their throats until they started talking in tongues. If God had built the Dux if would have gone something like this...

And God said, ‘Let the beer under the sky be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear.’ And it was so. God called the dry land The Dux, and the beer that was gathered together he called Dux Lager, Blue Duck and Nor'Wester. And God saw that it was good. Then God said, ‘Let the earth put forth vegetation: plants yielding seed, and fruit trees of every kind on earth that bear fruit with the seed in it and create a vegetarian restaurant next door. And it was so. And God saw that it was good. And there were buffalo chips and nachos.

At the moment The Dux is out of action. Christchurch without The Dux is like New York without the Big Apple, London without Big Ben or Sex And The City without Big. It's not the same, it's doesn't sound right and Carrie will never be happy with anyone else. For most of my life The Dux was the only place you could go get a drink without meeting a dickhead. The Dux was also my theatrical local and provided a place of refuge and therapeutic inebriation to make it through hellish three show days of dressing up in a green boiler suit with a foam rubber Godrizza head on. I've vomited in The Dux toilets, I've dropped a pitcher on a small dog and I've witnessed the unforgettable sight of an inebriated Simon Peacock circling Elric Hooper and Sam Neil in The Dux courtyard as a horny velociraptor.

So, here are some photos taken with my budget Lumix. The rest of this post will be largely made up of photos so if you only read my blog for the articles, best move on to Playboy, Penthouse or Skinny & Wriggly.

Let's begin with an arty photo of The Court Theatre entrance...

Notice how the metal barrier is perfectly in focus but the theatre is out of focus. It's very symbolic and I have no idea how I did it. Everything looks OK from here, but is it?

No, it's not. From a distance it looks like the buildings could be patched up reasonably easily but even with the crappy zoon on my Lumix you can see that the cracks run long, deep and expensive. About a $100 million worth apparently.

I then wandered down Worcester Boulevard to Le Cafe, place of late night hot chocolates and long in depth debates about whether you should finish a show with Arms then Puppets or Puppets then Arms.

Nobody will be drinking hot chocolate here for up to four years according to Arts Centre management and you should always finish a show with puppets. Zooming in again...

Pretty bloody lucky the whole thing didn't fall down. Now let's have a look at the Hereford Street side.

I think this is where they are storing all the bits of masonry that came down to hopefully stick back up again at some point during the next four years. From what I've heard the interior of the Arts Centre is a lot worse than the outside. This was the best shot I could get of one of the inner courtyards with a cherry picker getting ready to pick some deliciously large and ripe cherries.

And now, what you've all been waiting for, an out of focus shot of The Dux!

I'd seen The Dux out of focus many times but never like this and it was a little upsetting. It was a perfect sunny Sunday, there were heaps of tables free in the courtyard, I knew there was beer for Africa inside these slightly shattered walls and I couldn't get my lips on any of it. Let's put things into focus now...

I think this is where the fireplace was which would make sense as every chimney is Christchurch has fallen down in protest at subsidised heat pumps. This bit of The Dux doesn't look too good however you will be relieved to know the rest of The Dux looks OK.

What aren't OK are the St. Elmo apartments just opposite The Dux on the corner of Hereford and Madras...

...which aren't there anymore.

Dick Sinke, the owner of The Dux says he can get the place open in a month however The Arts Centre have said nobody is allowed in for four years so they can turn the whole place into the Bob Parker Music Conservatorium for Musical Page Boys. Dick has taken the fight to the man by setting a Facebook page and asking people to write messages of support for The Dux on colourful cut-out ducks. Here's a photo of mum and dad reading a few of them and here's a particularly poignant duck...

Two more photos to finish. The first is looking out over the Autumnal Dux courtyard that I dearly hope will one day be filled with happy Christchurchians. Note the  statue of Dick Sinke in the foreground.

And finally another symbolic one. I saw this as I was walking along Rolleston Avenue. It's half a poster for our Complete History of World Rugby show that had its season cut in half by the earthquake.

We're bringing the show back to Christchurch in September for the Rugby World Cup and I'd love to have a drink at The Dux to celebrate. I hope someone can make it happen.