Missing Persons: Symbolic Transformation and Absent Bodies in Australian Iconography
Transcript of Missing Persons: Symbolic Transformation and Absent Bodies in Australian Iconography
Missing Persons: Symbolic Transformationin Australia’s Official Iconography
Paul Corcoran
Introduction
In the Victorian era and early years of Federation, Australian
identity was confidently represented by official symbols1 that
proudly linked new colonial ventures to ancient European
culture and British imperial sovereignty. A sharper contrast
with recent efforts to redefine and symbolise a multicultural
Australia is difficult to imagine. This study traces the
iconographic record from the colonial origins to its
contemporary expression.
Iconographic personification was a significant feature of
the seals, badges and armorial bearings in the pre-Federation
colonies of South Australia, Victoria and New South Wales.
Tracing how these symbols were altered over a considerable
period of time, or have disappeared altogether, offers an
opportunity to refocus Australia’s perennial debates about
national identity. As suggested by the title of this article,
these changes illustrate a pattern of symbolic weakening and
in some cases the complete1 ‘Official images’ include armorial bearings (coat of arms),
state seals and state badges.
1. State Seal South Australia (1903)2. Victoria Coat of Arms (1910).
2
abandonment of iconographic personification. It will be
speculated that these alterations reflect deeper issues of
identity and representation that have emerged and are widely
expressed in contemporary political and intellectual
discourse.
4. George Dancey, The Birth of the Commonwealth(1901)
3
Personification
It is important to recognise the visual and æsthetic context
of official symbols. The Australian colonies and the
Commonwealth federation were established in an age still
conversant with ancient traditions of the mythic
personification of classical virtues and
moral ideals. As a double metaphor, these
personae were commonly emblematic of
nationhood. Britannia is an example of a
many layered,
richly ambiguous complexity. She
is an amalgam personifying Birgid
the legendary Celtic goddess, the
Roman conquest of land and
people, and perhaps an
unintentional allusion to ancient
Athena’s wisdom, bravery and
prowess.
This tradition of
representation was confidently and resplendently modernised in
Victorian political as well as popular imagery. Australia, its
3. George III two-
4
colonies and the individual states were symbolically
personified, and the ‘person’ was almost always a woman.2 This
personification occurred in graphic design, the fine arts, the
embellishment of official documents, and popular
representations in newspapers cartoons, poster art and
architectural ornamentation.
2 This is amply documented in Margaret Anderson, When Australia
was a Woman: images of a nation, Perth, 1998.
5
5. New South Wales (1883) 6. New South Wales (1883) 7. The Woman of Tomorrow (1897) 8. ANZAC Poster (1919)
9. Commonwealth Inaugural Invitation (1901)
6
Official symbols of identity in South Australia, New South
Wales and Victoria
The official
symbols of
Australian identity
and authority, in
addition to drawing
upon classical
personification,
also incorporated
the imagery and
symbolism of the heraldic tradition. Indeed, it is fair to
say that the symbols of office were more than just symbolic or
conventional. They had a performative function in empowering
and legitimating the authority of office.
In keeping with the strict code of ancient heraldry and
royal convention, the College of Arms3 and the Royal Mint in
10. Invitation, Inaugural Sitting of the Commonwealth Parliament
11. Edward VIII, Royal proclamation of SouthAustralian Coat of Arms (1937)
7
London have designed
Australia’s armorial
bearings and official
seals from first
settlement to the
present day.
Nevertheless,
contemporaneous æsthetic standards and tastes, as well as
cultural and geographical features, have always influenced the
iconographic components and styles of representation. The
artists and engravers strive to integrate the heraldic
language and imagery of armorial achievements (the granting of
arms) and the symbolic traditions of royal medallions with new
images symbolic of exotic locale and character acceptable to
the æsthetic preferences of colonial governments. Over time,
the official symbols, in effect, change but remain the same.
Official symbols are significant for a number of reasons
and purposes. The most obvious significance is that they are
official:4 vice-regally
commissioned, designed
8
and proclaimed, as evidenced by the royal proclamation shown
here.
The use of these images is carefully defined and legally
restricted as an imprimatur of the authority and to certify
the authenticity of manuscript
documents, printed materials and
objects to which they are
affixed.5 They afford a ceremonial
dignity as well as an easily
recognisable symbol of a sovereign state, as evidenced here by
the South Australian governor’s embossed seal and the printed
stationery of the Tasmanian Government.
Heraldic and mythological personification reflecting
British official iconography was typical in the early emblems,
from the early colonial period and subsequently in the
granting of arms to the federated states of the Commonwealth.6
Nevertheless the original seals of colonial New South Wales
and South Australia illustrate how the symbolism embraced,
even anticipated, distinctive identities incident to the
Australian the land, its inhabitants and the nature of the
colonial enterprise.
12. Colonial Seals (1883)
9
Australia’s very first seal, of 1791,
was struck specifically to accompany the
colony’s first governor to his post. The
reverse presents a historical tableau
representing not just Sydney’s convict
origins but its purpose as a colony,
complete with fortress-like prison and maritime trade.7 The
vernacular setting is loosely styled with classical figures
representing authority, restraint and submission. The tableau
is situated above a legend from Virgil’s Georgics: Sic fortis Etruria
crevit (‘Thus brave Etruria grew’). The motto, as well as the
rough-hewn harbour, likens the primitive beginnings of the
convict colony to the desperate and primitive beginnings of
Romulus and Remus. By the common efforts of taskmasters and
bondsmen, ‘Rome became the beauty of the world,’ and so might
Britain’s prison colony. The depiction offers a stark contrast
to the seal’s obverse, the heraldic majesty of the George IV
Royal Seal.
In symbolising colonial rule, the ‘two sides of the
medallion’ aptly reflect a dual purpose. The seals
extended the symbolism of imperial and royal prestige to an
Colonial Seal of New South
N
13. Colonial Seal of
10
expanding Commonwealth, a British asset that was appreciating
in that era rather than depreciating as it has done since
World War II. Moreover, there was a clear effort, given
visual form by the Royal Mint and the College of Arms, to
incorporate into the heraldic tradition the new peoples,
flora, fauna and terrain of areas remote in place, clime and
culture. Whereas New South Wales’s eighteenth-century seal
carried images of newly arrived colonists and convicts, the
nineteenth-century iconography enthusiastically and
colourfully embraced native imagery to symbolise the newly
established colonial governance.
14. South Australia ColonialSeal (1839)
11
Nowhere was this more evident than in
South Australia, where the early
colonial seal, showing Britannia
extending her open palm of greeting to an
indigenous man, was used from 1839 to
dignify and seal official documents.
Images, dies and seal presses from the
Royal mint as well as local versions
appeared on printed documents both as a
design and incorporated as a watermark on
stationery and record forms well into the
twentieth century. The seal was lavishly reproduced in the
Government House in the celebratory leadlight ‘Federation
Windows’ in 1901. Although this seal was officially replaced
in 1904, the earlier image continued to be used as a
stationery watermark for many years. A peculiar tribute is
paid to the image by the fact that still in 2009 the 1839
design is mistakenly identified on the official Government
House website as the original colonial ‘coat of arms’ of South
Australia,8 which it never was. Indeed this misattribution
16. South Australian Commission of Arms, 1923Dexter: Ceres, Goddess of Plenty
Sinister: Minerva, Goddess of Wisdom & Liberal
12
inadvertently suggests ambivalence or even nonchalance about
the importance and relevance of the heraldic symbol.
Classical versus vernacular personification
South Australia and Victoria, from the early years of
Federation, chose forms of personification that gradually
eschewed mythic symbolism. This distancing reflected a
discomfort with mythological and symbolic figuration. This
was openly expressed in popular criticisms and ribald satire
regarding the ostensible mythological personages and their
vernacular representations.9
The response was to replace classical
imagery with vernacular
representation. This is evident
in South Australia’s protracted
effort to adopt a coat of arms. The
initial design approved by the
College of Arms was ‘announced’ but
never officially proclaimed in
1923.10
The revised design of South
Australia’s coat of arms, after
15. Federation Window(1903)
17. South Australia Coat of Arms,
13
years of indecision, procrastination and apparent government
indifference,11 was finally promulgated in 1936.12 The scroll
had been altered from ‘Faith and Works’ to ‘Faith and
Courage.’ The supporters have changed from the classical
figures of Ceres and Minerva to ‘a female figure holding a
cornucopia & sheaf of barley…and a farmer holding shears & a
fleece,’ as described on the blazon provided by the College of
Arms. Replacing the Greco-Roman deities are a man on the land
and his bountiful wife gazing faithfully at each other.
14
A
similar if less dramatic transformation, from the divine to
the quotidian, occurred in the Victorian coat of arms.
Compared to the confidently glamorous, ethereally seductive
Peace and Prosperity in the original 1910 version, the design
revised in 1973 design reflected an “interpretation of the
female Supporters…more in accord with the current ‘conception
of Australian womanhood’ to quote the suggestion put forward
at the time by the Premier’s Department.”13 They stand rather
less beguilingly on terra firma.
13 State of Victoria, ‘Ensigns of Public Authority’, Department
of Premier and Cabinet, http://www.dpc.vic.gov.au, accessed 10
September 2006.
18. Victoria Coat of Arms(1910) 19.
15
To provide a wider context for these æsthetic changes, New
Zealand’s coat of arms illustrates a similar trend. In this
case, a classically draped, youthful ‘New Zealand’ receives a
modern make-over.
The original of 1910 (below,
left), based on designs solicited from the public, depicted a
daughter of Britannia brandishing the flag and a Maori
chieftain, both looking outward to the larger world of Empire.
In the revised design of 1956, a mannequin-like, primly
coiffed female clings to a modest flag and a stern Maori male
gaze intently inward, the crest’s lion guardant holding the
Union flag is replaced by St. Edward’s crown designed for
Elizabeth II in 1953, and ‘New Zealand’ replaces the motto.
Australian fauna
20. New Zealand Coat of Arms
16
The armorial bearings of the Commonwealth and of all other
Australian states are supported by animals.14 This follows the
heraldic tradition of appropriating the symbolic power of
natural as well as the fantastical beasts. Æsthetic
modifications over the course of a century that are evident in
personification are also
evident in the use of faunal
representations. For example, the 2006 design of the New South
3 The College of Arms has for centuries had the jurisdiction
for granting, preserving and defending armorial bearings in
Britain. The character of this remarkable institution is
conveyed by John Campbell-Kease ed., Tribute to an Armorist. London,
2000; and Brooke-Little and John Philip Neubecker, An Heraldic
Alphabet, London, 1977; Ottfried Neubecker and John Philip
Brooke-Little, Heraldry: sources, symbols, and meaning, London, 1977. 4 Document authentication by official seal remains government
policy: ‘Overseas governments sometimes need proof that
Australian documents are genuine before they will accept them.
The Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade will certify that
a signature, stamp or seal on a document is genuine by
checking it against a specimen held on file, and stamping the
document with an AUTHENTICATION or APOSTILLE.’ DFAT,
‘Authentications and Apostilles’,
http://www.victoria.dfat.gov.au/legal.html, accessed 20
September 2005.
21. New South Wales Coat of Arms, 2006
22. New South Wales Coat of Arms, 1906
17
Wales coat of arms suggests a modern preference for creatures
of a cuddly mien compared to the exotically stylised creatures
in the original 1906 College of Arms.
South Australia’s attempt to adopt ‘iconic’ Australian
fauna as a means of displacing personification on its seldom
5 Parliament of Australia, The Use of the Coat of Arms: armed with
national pride, House of Representatives Standing Committee on
Legal and Constitutional Affairs, Canberra, 1994.6 Robert Montgomery Martin, History of the Colonies of the British Empire…
with the charters and the engraved seals, London, 1843.7 William Applegate Gullick, The Seals of New South Wales, Sydney:
Government Printer, 1921, pp. 3-7, gives the texts of court
documents of 1790 to commission and transmit the first
Territorial Seal and its issue in 1791; and received by
Lieutenant Governor (afterwards Governor) King. At p. 3, the
seal’s devices are officially described. The reproduction
here is from the unchanged third seal of 1827 (Gullick at p.
7).9 The South Australian Government’s proposed design was
published in The Register, 22 March 1923, giving rise to
subsequent editorials and numerous letters to the editor. All
were highly critical, and with one or two exceptions, the tone
was droll and satirical. A subsequent Register editorial made
light of heraldry in general and the Garter King of Arms in
particular, and disputes the attributed identities of Ceres
and Minerva, and obliquely reports readers’ comments on the
design ranging from wry to racist. The editor observed that
23. South Australia, proposed coat orarms (1982)
18
used coat of arms led to ridicule and rejection by a successor
government and the wider public.
The original Ceres and Minerva,
transformed in 1936 to farmer and
wife, were reincarnated in the
Minerva should have smiled for the occasion. Kyah Than
(Advertiser, 23 March 1923) asked, ‘why should we have Greek
mythology on the escutcheon rather than Captain Sturt, the
Union Jack, the Australian flag, and a wreath of wattle?’ Gwen
Barrenger (Advertiser, 28 March 1923) asked why an Australian
artist was not commissioned to ‘give us a virile, modern and
representative design’ since ‘we are a young nation, with an
individual character to build up, and we do not want for our
emblem a hoary antiquity of decadent art.’ Merlin (Advertiser,
24 March) affirmed that ‘Ceres and Minerva are mythological
persons who never heard of this place.’ ‘An Australian’
(Advertiser, 27 March) objects that Minerva ‘as goddess of wisdom
and fine arts should not be shown wearing a spear and a
helmet,’ and ‘H.F’ agrees, adding that the ‘figure
representing Ceres is a charming model maid, but she is
holding the cornucopia in a very lackadaisical manner.’8 ‘Government house, brief history, Federation windows…Coat of
Arms of the Province of South Australia.’
http://www.governor.sa.gov.au/index.php?m=assets&assetID=37.10 The design was settled upon by the Barwell Government, as
indicated in a letter (27 February 1923) so advising the
Governor. The design was published for comment in The Advertiser
19
Tonkin Government’s 1982 design for a ‘cuddly koala and a fat
little wombat’ to serve as supporters rampant guardant.15 Also of
interest was the migration of the piping shrike from the state
seal of 1903 to replace the shield’s heraldic devices. No less
noteworthy is the state’s emblematic flower, the Sturt Desert
and The Register (Adelaide) 22 March 22 1923. Clippings of the
images are in GRG 45/ Ser. 1/1921, State Records of South
Australia.11 South Australia’s Agent General in London, keen to expedite
the granting of state arms, wrote to the Government (17 August
1923) to remind the premier that he had still not received a
reply to a design ‘altered and approved by the College of
Arms’ he had sent the previous year (22 November 1922). SRSA
GRG 45/ Ser. 1/1921. On 1 October 1923, a Cabinet note to the
Premier requested that the Agent General in London be informed
that ‘The design for the coat of arms is still under
consideration.’ The cover sheet for this folio (T. O. 50,
1921) of correspondence contains additional handwritten notes
indicating that the ‘consideration’ had occurred again on 28
March 1924 and 21 May 1931.12 To commemorate the granting of arms on 20 November 1936, a
fine quality coloured and illuminated edition of the arms was
prepared by D. Wall, Government Photo-lithographer in the
Printing Office. The image was reproduced, with the Royal
Warrant, in the government’s Gazette, 27 May 1937, p. 1210.14 The emu and the kangaroo support the Commonwealth coat of
arms. Queensland’s coat of arms is supported by a red deer and
20
Pea, sprouting from a knightly helm to replace the original
royal crest, a lion passant guardant bearing an ensign of the
Southern Cross.
Iconographic abstraction
South Australia and Victoria have exhibited an unmistakable
trend toward official symbols that clearly depart from
classical personification and British symbols. They have also
forthrightly embraced contemporary styles of iconographic
abstraction. Indeed, South
Australia’s current coat of arms and
state seal, redesigned and
promulgated under the Bannon
a brolga; Tasmania’s by two Tasmanian tigers; Western
Australia’s by two kangaroos, featuring a swan on the shield.15 Matt Abraham, ‘New coat of arms still bearing fruit’, The
Advertiser, 15 September 1983. Peter Ward, ‘Now Bannon’s up in
arms about the innocent koala’, The Australian, 17 September 1983.
Ward writes: ‘The Tonkin Government forwarded more than £4000
to the Garter Principal of Arms in London for the work, with
Mr. Tonkin personally fattening the wombat’s tummy with a
pencil sketch on a draft version when it became obvious the
good garter was having difficulties with the peculiar
Australian fauna. Mr. Bannon canned the Tonkin coat of arms,
saying it was cuddly, furry and kitch [sic].’
21
Government in 1984, completes the eclipse of personification
and traditional heraldic devices in favour of corporate
branding. Ceres has departed, leaving a few pieces of fruit;
the farmer has dropped his pickaxe and left the land. To the
extent that it retains elements that resemble a coat of arms,
it is a caricature.
24. Coat of Arms (1984)
22
Similarly, The ‘great seal’ of South
Australia has been transformed in three
successive phases. The earliest is the
candid representation of Britannia’s direct
and personified encounter with
distinctively Australian imagery (1839-
1901) based on the seal engraved
by one of the famed Wyon brothers
at the Royal Mint in London, who
had in all likelihood designed the
colonial seals in New South Wales.16 In 1903, the Wyon seal
was superseded by a new ‘public seal’ that retained the
dignity of royal and imperial heraldry but gave pride of place
to the ‘piping shrike against the rising sun’
that had been adopted as the ‘state badge’ in
1901.
In 1984 the state seal was finally shorn of all heraldic
form in a simple logo alluding only to the state’s name and
the impressively omnipresent bird. In 2005, it
was reported that ‘All government logos will be replaced with
a Government of South Australia logo, in a major “re-branding”
25. Seal of SouthAustralia
26. S.A. Badge (1901) and Seal(1903)
27. South Australia
23
exercise by the State Government…. A spokesman from the
Premier’s Office said… “This policy is designed to ensure the
Government maintains a professional and consistent image.”’17
Historical association, personification and heraldic
imagery were replaced by minimalist designs depicting an
ostensibly unique ‘state bird’ and the state’s name as a
brand. That such emblems are boasted as being selected
because they are unique demonstrates the purposive absence of
extended symbolic, metaphorical or historical reference.
The abstraction of imagery and the abandonment of heraldry
are also evident in Victoria. Its coat of arms has been
retained, but seldom appears on official documents. The
Victorian Government no longer acknowledges an official seal
or state badge. The trend to abstract branding is, however,
prevalent. These logos are ubiquitous, and apparently
mandatory, in government communications.
28. Victorian Government Logo (2009)
24
New South Wales has partially resisted the move to abstract
logos with a formal protocol18
acknowledging its coat of arms, the
state flag dating to 1876, and a state
badge identical to the Cross of St. George
featuring on the flag’s field. But the coat of arms
as a visual image on public documents survives only
miniature form. Its complex heraldic features are reduced to a
simplified branding logo. Ironically, and despite legislation
purporting to
restrict the armorial bearings for official use, it is
possible to purchase coat of arms t-shirts, beer mugs and
other domestic items on the internet. The official symbol is
transformed into a niche market commodity.
In historical retrospect, the souvenir market
notwithstanding, personification and heraldic symbolism have
29. NSW Flag30. NSW Logo (2009)
31. T-shirt designs
25
all but disappeared in the official iconography of these three
states.
The ‘problem’ with persons
The evolution of these armorial bearings and seals reveals a
gradual transformation of iconographic forms. In some cases
there is evidence of controversy concerning the retention or
revision of design elements. Notably, there has been a
tendency to alter or even reject personification as symbols of
identity.
The successive changes indicate a loss of confidence in, or
indeed a rejection of, the symbolic references and æsthetic
appeal of heraldic iconography, especially in relation to
normative associations with mythological representations of
the human figure. Classical and even Victorian styles of
personification have been abstracted into vernacular lay
figures or fallen into disuse. Traditional figurative
personification embodied divine, heroic or otherwise
mythological entities as symbols of virtue (justice, wisdom,
courage, mercy, felicity); values and ideals (peace,
prosperity, liberty, patriotism, intelligence; authority,
unity and lineal or tribal identity (kinship, shared ethnicity
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or Greco-European cultural heritage). The representation of
these ideals in official images has receded or been abandoned
altogether.
Where figurative representation has been retained (as in
Victoria’s coat of arms), the image has been steadily altered
to accord with contemporary representations of the human
figure and dress. This change also reflects changing attitudes
and sensitivities in relation to the appropriateness of bodily
display, particularly as representations of gender, race and
ethnicity. In the Victorian era, the symbolic figure of an
alluring young woman was a familiar image that appealed to
traditional ideals of beauty, fecundity, prosperity, maternal
fortitude and moral virtue. Moreover it was conventional to
associate such ideals with nations and empires. In recent
decades, these considerations have become controversial moral
and political issues, not only regarding assumptions about
gender, but also about their implicit connotations for
individual, group and national identity and the very
possibility of a singular representation in a diverse,
multicultural, democratic polity.
33. Punch (1900)
27
The clear effect of these social and cultural factors on
official iconography has been a depersonalising and distancing
of images from mythic reference and embodied ideals. What
remains in contemporary instances of personification is a
generic or ‘vernacular’ person: not a symbol for mythological
transmission of ideals but something like a department store
mannequin, ‘idealised’ only in the sense of appearing
perfectly ordinary and anonymous, that is, identity-less.
Symbolic purpose and function
Traditionally, official symbolic devices
such as seals and armorial bearings were
strikingly different from other widely
recognisable symbols, even if there were
shared elements, such as the kangaroo, a
ubiquitous
element in
commercial
advertising and decorative art.
Nevertheless, some copyrighted images, banners and logos
function as quasi-official Australian symbols: political party
symbols, the Aboriginal flag, the Boxing Kangaroo19 popularised
32. Boxing Kangaroo
28
by yachting and sporting teams, and other widely recognised
badges, colours and images. The kangaroo, koala, kookaburra,
platypus, emu, cockatoo and other species of wildlife were
recognised well before Federation as unique to Australia and
widely used in colonial design motifs, commercial logos, brand
names and packaging.20 Caricatures and figures of
anthropomorphic fauna, created by Australia’s prodigious pool
of political cartoon journalists, also serve as potent and
immediately recognised symbols of national identity.
In the massively enlarged visual domain afforded by
technical advances in graphic reproduction, television and the
internet, there is an abundance of corporate logos, televisual
graphics and cartoon animation. Consequently, from a
contemporary aesthetic perspective associated with commercial
advertising and multimedia entertainment, traditional arms,
seals, badges and heraldic symbols must inevitably seem dated,
unattractive or even meaningless. As a response, corporate
logos have replaced historic symbols in the ‘branding’
strategies of Commonwealth and state government ministries,
departments and commissions. Logos conform to contemporary
æsthetics, with a ‘look’ that is modern rather than old-
29
fashioned. They are readily created and reproduced by
electronic media, drawing upon the sophisticated range of
techniques of design, modification and transmission. Such
imagery, therefore, draws upon a virtually limitless range of
visual, graphic and semiotic representation. It is
constrained only by the imagination, rather than by tradition
and established forms.
It is nevertheless true that the quaintness – a term
derived from the Latin cognoscere: ‘to get to know’ – of an
image can be a strength rather than a weakness. The stability
and easy recognition of traditional ‘iconic’ images as symbols
of authority and identity should not be underestimated.
Moreover, traditional symbols are potent in their complexity.
Iconographically dense imagery offers cognitive ties to
embedded meanings available to multiple readings at every
level of sophistication. Symbols have a universalising
effect. They foster and expand involvement because their
visual appeal and referential values are not linguistically
restrictive. A symbol’s recognitive power lies in its capacity
to unify complexity, to reconcile intellect and emotion and to
synthesise, condense and simplify multiplicities of time and
34. Letters Patent establishing the Office of the Commonwealth Governor-
30
place.21 As Walzer observed, symbols ‘bring things together,
both intellectually and emotionally, thus overcoming isolation
and even individuality.’22 These qualities are rarely
available in a government department’s trendy new logo, whose
frequent appearance and replacement are boasted to be a
branding exercise: a marketing strategy for new products and
services. This very exercise is a frank admission that the
desired identity does not exist, or that the existing identity
is not desired.
By contrast,
heraldic iconography
connects Australian
identity to its own
past, to Britain’s
imperial flourishing
in the nineteenth
century and beyond
to an historic tradition extending back to its Anglo-Celtic
origins. This is proudly evidenced in the celebratory
iconography that adorns the legal documents establishing the
Australian Commonwealth. Perhaps less widely appreciated but
35. Bank of Victoria (1866 and 1975)
36. British PetroleumAustralia (1914)
31
no less embedded are the ancient iconographic traditions they
draw upon: the Greco-Roman deities (and the values they
personify) and the vibrant European and Scandinavian tribal
identification with nature and the
supernatural. Indeed these symbols have
the power to animate animosity and strengthen the deprecation
of those traditions.
Amidst the profusion of corporate and government ‘re-
branding’ exercises, it is easy to underestimate (or indeed to
disdain) the iconographic force of ancient, enduring, slowly
evolved symbols. It then becomes a question of the cost and
the value of the symbolic expression of the origins, progress
and aspirations of the social enterprise. Ought we appeal to
an ancient heritage and the dignity of seeing one’s experience
as a chapter in a universal story of human achievement, or
not?
Symbol versus brand
The evolution of highly abstract logos in the modern era is
driven by the need to create a new and
purposefully
meaningless ‘corporate identity.’ The aim
32
is to cast off a corporation’s identity, historical
associations, cultural references or products it no longer
produces (or wishes to be seen to produce).
Graphic abstraction as a function of contemporary design
and corporate logos is a subject worthy of separate æsthetic
and iconographic investigation. The relevance of such a study
is indicated by one example. The evolving BP corporate design
below illustrates the logo’s antithetical capacity compared to the
corporation’s earlier use of personification. Heraldic
iconography is ‘historic’: its purpose is to identify,
preserve and extend associations.
By contrast, modern logos are ‘a-historical’ in the strict
meaning of the word modern: ‘of the present day.’ Logos are as
much about amnesia (regarding the inky black oil personified
above as Liberty) as they are about establishing identity and
recognition.
37. British PetroleumLogos
38. Krygsman (1999)
33
Australia’s elusive identity
Australian identity has been widely examined in scholarly
inquiry, social commentary and political debate. It is a
contentious and problematic concern with historical, colonial,
racial, cultural and institutional dimensions.23 How one
represents Australian identity is typically viewed as a
special problem arising from
its convict and colonial
origins, its seemingly
precarious status as a
British-European or Western
nation in the ‘wrong’ part of the globe, and its fraught
experience of race and ethnicity from earliest settlement. The
debate is perennially refreshed by the nation’s enduring
concerns with recognition and reconciliation between its
indigenous and non-indigenous population, and its experience
as a destination for substantial migration and asylum These
features have, in fact, long been a source of doubt and
mordant humour about how, or indeed whether, Australia should
be defined and symbolised.24 Constitutional reformers,
academics, lawyers, private interest groups and a campaigning
34
press have endeavoured, so far without
success, to define Australia’s identity and
give it constitutional expression.25 Significantly, this
discourse consistently focuses on symbolic expression.
Since 1981, Ausflag has campaigned for popular support to
replace the Commonwealth flag and other Australian symbols of
identity. The flag is castigated as ‘a defaced British Ensign…
an Imperial flag which signifies our subordination to
Britain,’ representing Australia as a ‘colonial relic
reflecting a child still clinging desperately to its mother’s
breast.’26 Similarly, the Australian national anthem, Advance
Australia Fair, is a perennial object of solemn critique as well
as wry humour attracting both popular and official proposals
to replace it with a more suitable expression of Australian
identity and aspirations.
The Australian Republican Movement, established in
1991 and instrumental in initiating the 1998
Constitutional Convention, focused on the
critical importance of an appointed ‘Australian head of
state,’ with republican advocates stressing that the role of
the head of state was to be exclusively symbolic, a ‘mere
39. ARM Logos, 1998 and2009
35
figurehead.’27 Its original logo, scrupulously void of any
iconographic reference to recognisable Australian imagery,
seemed indistinguishable from that of a three or four-star
hotel chain. The new design is comprised of the Southern Cross
and a highly abstract allusion to the Australian continent.
The question of identity is also voiced in recurrent
parliamentary, academic, editorial and popular debate about
‘multiculturalism’ – whether it is the problem, the solution
or indeed the essence of Australia’s national identity. Indeed
the assumption of an absent or ill-defined national identity
is expressed in official communications from public
institutions charged with responsibility to memorialise and
indeed foster it ceremonially. The Australian War Museum’s
page, ‘National Identity,’ on its official website, Forging the
Nation, begins with a telling negativity: ‘The Commonwealth of
Australia came into existence with none of the formal symbols
by which a nation expresses its identity.’28 That this
statement is patently false29 seems to underscore the appeal of
identitylessness by taking for granted that legitimate ‘formal
symbols’ of national identity neither should nor can bear any
relationship to the past. Indeed, contemporary discussions
36
about symbolising or defining national identity often appeal
to the future: about goals and aspirations that emphasise
change, departure and separation from the past.
The debate about Australian identity is fraught with
paradoxes: a failure to resolve the symbolic issues, such as
those mentioned above, is a reflection, or perhaps a fatal
signal, of a moral and cultural failure of the Australian
nation. The successful resolution of these matters is often
posed as an essential test of Australian legitimacy, but the
nation’s illegitimacy, or at least its faulty self-
understanding, is implied by the debate itself. Thus the
nation is symbolised (‘shamefully’ it is frequently noted) by
Australia’s derivative or otherwise unhappy emblems: the
‘trappings’ of nationhood represent its colonial origins but
fail to acknowledge its ‘true’ past and present diversity.
The presumed failures of the past are now magnified by fears
for the future from both a growing ethnic diversity of
population and a global homogenisation in which the very idea
of nations and stable cultural identities are called into
question.30
41. DIMA (1999)
37
Not often appreciated is the fact that the intensity with
which Australian identity is debated, the ironic larrikin
stereotype notwithstanding, presupposes an extraordinary
degree of emotional self-consciousness and moral idealism.31
In ‘Godzone,’ we have to get it right or we’re doomed. It is
seldom recognised that identical debates occur throughout the
world. There is either a complacent or cranky refusal to
accept that symbols of national identity in all nations are
contested and inevitably compromised by historical,
linguistic, racial, religious, ethnic and moral complexity.
For example Great Britain’s Union flag is a design compromise
along those very lines: the superimposed crosses of St. George
(England), St. Andrew (Scotland) and St. Patrick (Ireland),
proudly never widely accepted in Scotland and Ireland.
Linguistic, regional and indigenous groups in Spain, France,
and Belgium assert historic, often violent, claims of separate
identity, and the same is true on every continent.
There is, then, a paradox. On the one hand, there is a
resolute insistence upon Australian
uniqueness, frequently expressed with an
ironic or playful conviction
40. Sydney OlympicsPoster (1996) launchedat Atlanta Olympic Games
38
that Australia’s qualities are better symbolised by imagery
that dispenses with traditional and official significations.
Thus government instrumentalities and quasi-official
organisations symbolise their identity in terms of the
Australian continent and its instantly recognised fauna.
Embracing a corporate branding logo is but a step away.
39
On the other hand, there is a sense that Australia is too
diverse, too dynamic, still young and unformed:
a mixture, not a compound. This is captured in
contemporary emblems of state that have
abandoned the
traditional
iconography. Official
iconography and
graphic
representations have favoured
abstract designs or transient ‘field of faces’
mosaics that frequently appear in commercial
advertising to express Australia’s cultural and
racial diversity. It could be argued that the responsibility
for iconography’s symbolic and æsthetic function of dignifying
the nation has been relinquished or, in effect, proliferated
to groups and organisations desiring to associate symbolically
and ideationally (and indeed commercially) with national
identity. It is interesting that the branding logos of
organisations that were formerly official (and ‘royal’) organs
42. Centenary of FederationCommission
43. Left: Federation Weekand Face of S.A.mosaics
40
of state have abandoned traditional Australian iconographic
symbols.
Symbolic transformation provides not
only
a window on the past but a reflection of the mood, tastes and
changing (or conflicted) identities of
the present. Some symbols do transcend the ephemeral quality
of corporate branding, as has been clearly shown by the
Aboriginal flag’s formal recognition in 1995.32 There are
instances, too, of sacred sites and historical events taking
on symbolic roles in memorialising great moral tragedies and
historic wrongs. It is interesting that the Aboriginal flag,
although seemingly abstract in design, is in fact freighted
with powerful and accessible symbolic references.
32 The website(http://www.flagaustnat.asn.au/aboriginalflag.php) of theAustralian National Flag Association documents thisrecognition:
‘The Aboriginal flag was first displayed on 12th July 1971,National Aborigines’ Day, at Victoria Square in Adelaide. Itwas also used at the ‘Tent Embassy’ in Canberra in 1972.Designed by Indigenous Elder Harold Thomas in 1971, this flagsymbolises Aboriginal identity. Yellow represents the sun(giver of life) and yellow ochre. Red represents the red earth(the relationship to the land) and the red ochre used inceremonies. Black represents the Aboriginal people.’
44. Corporate Logos
45. Aboriginal Flag (1971)
41
The tendency to reject figurative representation and adopt
abstraction was the dominant æsthetic shift in the visual arts
for much of the twentieth century,
although representation has more
recently been revived in such new genres
as hyper-realism and multi-media
installations. Portraiture has retained
16 Alfred Benjamin Wyon and Allan Wyon, The Great Seals of England from
the Earliest Period to the Present Time, London, 1887. Martin, 1843,
attributes South Australia’s great seal engraving (of 1838,
for the 1839 seal) to William Wyon (1795-1851). Nicholas
Carlisle, A Memoir of the Life and Works of William Wyon. London, 1837, p.
153, records that Wyon in 1813 won the gold medal prize from
the Society for the Encouragement of Arts for a medallion of
Ceres.17 Laura Anderson, ‘Piping shrike knocks rest off perch’, The
Advertiser, 23 May 2005, p. 8.18 ‘Emblems of NSW.’ Available:
http://www.nsw.gov.au/emblems.asp19 ‘Australian flags’,
http://myflag.com.au/images/aussie_flags/boxing_kangaroo.jpg,
accessed 20 March 2007.
20 Numerous examples are illustrated in Mimmo Cozzolino, Symbols
of Australia; John McDonald, Federation: Australian art and society 1901-2001,
Canberra, 2000; Ann Stephen ed., Visions of a Republic.
46. Australian War Memorial,
42
its popular and special place, often accommodating
expressionism and abstraction in the gesture to represent
individual persons. Abstraction has also been an important
influence in architecture and design. The effect of
depersonalisation, what Ortega y Gasset called the
21 Juan Eduardo Cirlot, A Dictionary of Symbols, New York, 1962, p.
xiii.22 Michael Walzer, ‘On the Role of Symbolism in Political
Thought,’ Political Science Quarterly 82: 2 (1967), p. 194.23 The Australian, ‘Advance Australia where?’ provides a
collection of articles and primary source material from a
special series. The Australian, 23-30 June 2005,
http://www.theaustralian.com.au/extras/where/opindex.html,
accessed 20 September 2005. Academic studies abound: Marilyn
Lake, ‘Mission Impossible: how men gave birth to the
Australian nation: nationalism, gender and other seminal
Acts’, Gender and History vol. 4 (3), 1992, pp. 305-22; Gillian
Whitlock and David Carter, eds. 1992. Images of Australia,
Brisbane, 1992; Gregory Melleuish, The Packaging of Australia: politics
and culture wars, Sydney, 1998; Catherine Lumby, ‘The Dark Side of
Nationalism’, The Bulletin (20 April 1999), p. 45; John Hirst, The
Sentimental Nation: the making of the Australian Commonwealth, Melbourne,
2000; Justin Healey, Australian’s National Identity, vol. 133, Issues in
Society, Sydney, 2000; Timothy L. Phillips, ‘Symbolic Boundaries
and National Identity in Australia,’ British Journal of Sociology,
vol. 47 (1), 1996, pp. 113-34; Sara Cousins, Contemporary
Australia: national identity, Melbourne, National Centre for Australian
43
‘dehumanisation of art,’ is evident in any art gallery and in
every modern cityscape.33
The modernist movement in art and design emerged just as
the official insignia were being designed. This movement
clearly influenced the symbols of office and national
Studies, 2001, http://www.petra.ac.id/asc/people/immigrants/
national_
identity.htmlhttp://www.radioaustralia.net.au/australia/pdf/se
lling_aus.pdf, accessed 4 September 2005.24 Humphrey McQueen, ‘Towards a post pre-capitalist flag’,
Artlink, vol. 17: 3 (1998).28 Australian War Museum. 2005. Forging the Nation,
http://www.awm.gov.au/forging/identity/index.htm, accessed 20
September 2005.29 Charters of Our Nation, the National Archives of Australia’s
major (and permanent) exhibition for the Centenary of
Federation celebrations, graphically illustrates the symbolic
elements which literally gave effect to the Commonwealth. The
Commonwealth had a regally appointed and lavishly ceremonial
‘symbolic head,’ the Governor General, a flag and other
official ensigns, and its own minted coinage and postal
images. Despite the fact that many of these symbols carried
the image of the crown, and that the reigning monarch may no
longer gladden the hearts of those who work for the Australian
War Memorial in Canberra, such symbols were, in law and fact,
the Commonwealth’s symbols of national identity. Available at:
http://www.naa.gov.au/exhibitions/federation_gallery/federatio
44
authority, in both the original commission of heraldic emblems
and their successive adaptation of vernacular and abstract
imagery. Indeed the ‘modern’ visual landscape – in art,
fashion, advertising, cinema, poster art inter alia – provides the
n_gallery.html25 Anne-Marie Willis, Illusions of Identity: the art of nation, Sydney,
1993; eds Wayne Hudson and David Carter, The Republican Debate,
Sydney, 1993, p. 213. In the decade since the 1998-99
constitutional referendum period, books continue to appear:
John Warhurst and Malcolm Mackerras eds, Constitutional Politics: The
Republic Referendum and the Future, St. Lucia, University of
Queensland Press, 2002; Mark McKenna, This Country: A Reconciled
Republic? Sydney, University of New South Wales Press, 2004;
Greg Barns and Anna Krawec-Wheaton, An Australian Republic,
Melbourne, Scribe, 2006.26 ‘Ausflag’, http://www.ausflag.com.au/ausflag/ausflag.html,
accessed 1 January 2004. Also Harold Scruby, 2000, ‘No one
will salute it if you don’t run it up the flagpole’, The
Australian, 26 January 2000, p. 13.27 The tone of advocacy was exemplified by Don Watson, a speech
writer for the former prime minister, Paul Keating: ‘by simply
substituting an Australian for the British monarch as our head
of state we get a republic without pomp or pain – a post-
modern republic if you like…. But the real beauty of the model
is its “minimalism”…. A simple snip and we can have a republic
for Christmas.’ Don Watson, ‘The Post-modern Republic: a
45
æsthetic environment in which those images seem old-fashioned,
quaint or reactionary.
Clearly too, the nation had changed. This was true not
only of the size, composition and diversity of its population,
but in attitudes about Australia’s relationships to empire,
the larger world as an independent nation, and to the
character and complexity of its colonial history. How one
lasting gift to the nation’, The Age, Melbourne, 4 November
1999, p. 21.30 Rhys Fox, ‘The Global Cocktail and Loss of National
Identity’, Neovox,
http://neovox.cortland.edu/vox/vox_147/vox_147.html, accessed
20 September 2005; Andrew Patterson, ‘The Fight for Australian
Culture’, 11 November 1997, http://members.
ozemail.com.au/~natinfo/ozcul3.htm, accessed 20 September
2005.
31 These points have been developed more fully in Paul Corcoran
and Sally-Ann Rowland, 1999. ‘“The Naked Flagpole”: the
republic in search of a symbol,’ Proceedings, Australasian
Political Studies Association, Sydney, vol. I, September 1999,
pp. 123-34; and P. Corcoran, ‘“Isn’t it embarrassing?”: the
affective basis of Australian political language and
Identity’, Australasian Political Studies Association
Conference. 25 September 2002, Brisbane.
http://www.gu.edu.au/school/ppp/APSA2001/secure/Political_Theo
ry_Papers_A_J.html-Political_Theory, accessed 15 March 2007.
46
might represent a state’s or the nation’s identity in terms of
an ancient code of heraldic symbols became a problem caught up
in the larger questions of national identity. Manifestly, the
effort could not be to replace the ‘face of Australia’ – its
gender, colour, heraldic and monarchical trappings and ancient
ideals – with some other face. Rather, the changes in
Australia’s official insignia have, by means of elimination
and abstraction, attempted to distance us from conflict and
disunity. In their small and specialised way, these changes
have contributed to, and reflected, a revalorisation of
history and of the images that memorialise the past.
The process is uncannily illustrated by South Australia’s
ejection of archetypal goddesses from its coat of arms in
favour of robust vernacular rustics, only to eliminate them as
stereotypically gendered figures unrepresentative of a modern,
urban, ethnically diverse population. The diversity defies
personification, thus making abstraction all the more
attractive. A simple visual cue avoids the issues associated
with demography and history. The logo becomes, in effect, a
floating signifier, infinitely malleable in appearance and
association.
47
‘Celebrating difference’ and ‘embracing the future’ are
themselves highly abstract ideas. Perhaps it is appropriate,
or at least amenable, that these ideas are expressed by
iconographic abstraction rather than archaic images, however
tinged with nostalgia or reverence, irony or malice, from the
nation’s family album.
48
Documentation of Images
1. South Australia Badge. 1903. State Records of South
Australia, GRG45, Series 1, Unit 50.1921. Digital image by
author.
2. Victoria Coat of Arms. 1910. State Records South Australia,
Treasury Department, 1839-1942, letters received, GRG 45,
Series 1, Unit 50/1921. Digital image by author.
3. George III two-penny coin. 1797. Available:
www.flickr.com/photos/10413717@N08/2594226822
4. George Dancey, The Birth of the Commonwealth. Punch Annual,
Melbourne, 1901. In Marguerite Mahood, The Loaded Line: Australian
political caricature 1788-1901, Melbourne, 1973, p. 278.
5. Giovanni Fontana, New South Wales, 1883. Ann Stephen ed.,
Visions of a Republic: The Work of Lucien Henry. Sydney: Powerhouse
Publishing, 2001, p. 75.
6. Nicholas Habbe, New South Wales, 1884. Ibid.
7. The Woman of Tomorrow: The World at Her Feet, Melbourne Punch, 3 Dec.
1897, in Suzane Fabian ed., Mr. Punch Down Under: A Social History of
the Colony from 1856 to 1900. Melbourne: Greenhouse Publishing,
1982, p. 124.
8. ANZAC Memorial Poster, 1919. Available:
http://ink.news.com.au/mercury/anzac/album/pages/anzac18_jp
g.htm
9. Invitation to the Celebration of the Opening of the
Commonwealth Parliament, 9 May 1901. Canberra: National
Archives Australia. NAA: A/2695 2003/00466508.
49
10. Norman Lindsay and John Longstaff, Invitation to the
Inaugural Sitting of the Commonwealth Parliament, 1901.
John McDonald, Federation: Australian Art and Society 1901-2001.
Canberra: National Gallery of Australia, 2000, p. 19.
11. ‘Proclamation by the governor of the royal warrant of
Edward VIII (20 November 1936) of the armorial ensigns and
supporters for the State of South Australia.’ State Records
South Australia, ‘Miscellaneous records of historical
interest,’ Chief Secretary’s Office, SRSA GRG 24, Series 90Unit 7 #490. Digital image by author. Proclamation
published in the Gazette (South Australian Government) (27
May 1937), p. 1210.
12. State Records of South Australia, ‘Despatches to and from
Governors, 1882-1883.’ Miscellaneous despatches from
governor’s office, South Australia, between 1837-1900 GRG2,
Series 12; Tasmanian state seal from ‘Arms of various
states,’ Treasury Department, 1839-1942, letters received,
GRG 45/ Ser. 1/1921, No 50.
13. Colonial Seal of New South Wales, 1791. William Applegate
Gullick, The Seals of New South Wales, Sydney: Government
Printer, 1921, p. 7.
14. Seal, Colony of South Australia. 1839. Leather impression
from seal, dispatched together with the die press from the
Royal Mint, London. Special Collection, State Library of
South Australia, D5349 (Misc.). Digital image by author.
33 José Ortega y Gasset, The Dehumanization of Art, Princeton,
Princeton University Press, 1968.
50
15. Federation Window (detail), 1903. Government House,
Adelaide. Digital image by author.
16. South Australian Commission of Arms. ‘South Australia’s
new coat of arms,’ The Register (Adelaide), 22 March 1923, p.
7.
17. Coat of Arms, South Australia, 1936. State Records South
Australia, ‘Miscellaneous records of historical interest,’
Chief Secretary’s Office, SRSA GRG 24, Series 90 Unit 7 #490. Digital image by author.
18. Victoria Coat of Arms, 1910. State Records South
Australia, Treasury Department, 1839-1942, letters
received, GRG 45, Series 1, Unit 50/1921. Digital image by
author.
19. Victoria Coat of Arms, 1973. State of Victoria, ‘Ensigns
of Public Authority’, Department of Premier and Cabinet,
http://www.dpc.vic.gov.au, accessed 10 September 2006.
20. ‘New Zealand’s Coat of Arms,’ 1911 design, State Records
South Australia, Governor’s Office, Despatches received
from the Secretary of State, London, 1840-1936, plate from
Her Majesty’s Stationers, 1910, in Governor’s
Correspondence, GRG2, Series 1, No. 80. Digital image by
author. Version of 1956, Ministry for Culture and Heritage,
accessed 15 September 2006: http://www.mch.govt.nz/coat-of-
arms.htm
21. New South Wales Coat of Arms, 2006. Heraldry of the world.
Available http://www.ngw.nl/int/aus/nsw.htm
22. New South Wales Coat of Arms, 1906. State Records South
Australia, Governor’s Office, Despatches received from the
51
Secretary of State, London, 1840-1936, plate from Her
Majesty’s Stationers, 1910, in Governor’s Correspondence,
GRG2, Series 1, No. 80. Digital image by author.
23. Matt Abraham, ‘New coat of arms is still bearing fruit,’
The Advertiser (Adelaide), 15 September 1983.
24. South Australia Coat of Arms, 1984. Available:
http://www.premcab.sa.gov.au/emblems/dl_coat1.htm
25. Seal of South Australia, Royal Mint, c. 1838. Image from
Robert Montgomery Martin, History of the Colonies of the British Empire…
with the charters and the engraved seals, London, Royal Mint, 1843.
26. South Australia State Badge (1901) and Public Seal (1904).
GRG45, Series 1, Unit 50.1921, State Records of South
Australia. Digital images by author.
27. South Australia Badge, 1984. By permission of the
Department of Premier and Cabinet. Available:
http://www.premcab.saa.gov.au/shrike1.htm.
28. State Government of Victoria, ‘victoriaonline’ home page:
http://www.vic.gov.au/
29. New South Wales flag, available:
http://flagspot.net/flags/au-nsw.html
30. New South Wales coat of arms as miniature logo on webpage
masthead, available:
http://www.premier.nsw.gov.au/default.html
31. Zazzle internet marketing company based in Redwood City,
California. Available:
http://www.zazzle.com/victoria_coat_of_arms_t_shirt+gifts
52
32. ‘Australian flags’, Accessed 20 March 2007:
http://myflag.com.au/images/aussie_flags/boxing_kangaroo.jp
g
33. Linley Sambourne, ‘The Puzzled Kangaroo,’ Punch (London),
27 June 1900. National Library of Australia PIC PIC S9879
LOC 3816-E. Image available: http://nla.gov.au/nla.pic-
an8870612
34. Letters patent constituting the office of Governor-General 29 October 1900.
National Archives Australia. Available:
http://www.foundingdocs.gov.au/scan.asp?sID=142
35. State Bank of Victoria logos, 1866 and 1975. Mimmo
Cozzolino, Symbols of Australia, Coburg, Victoria, 1980, p. 92.
36. British Petroleum Australia logo, 1914. Cozzolino, p. 173.
37. British Petroleum, ‘BP Brand and Logo’, accessed 15 March
2007 16 March 2007:
http://www.bp.com/sectiongenericarticle.do?
categoryid=9014508&contentid=7027677
38. Sturt Krygsman, The Australian, 5 November 1999, p. 15.
39. Australian Republic Movement logos, 1998 image from
information leaflet; 2009 version available:
http://www.republic.org.au/
40. Peace Roo Poster, designed by David Lancashire, Sydney
Olympics Organising Committee, 1996. Available:
http://www.la84foundation.org/OlympicInformationCenter/Olym
picReview/1999/OREXXVI26/OREXXVI26zd.pdf
41. Departmental logo from the cover of a brochure distributed
by the Department of Immigration and Multicultural Affairs,
1999.
53
42. Centenary of Federation Commission logo, 2001. Available:
http://www.apsc.gov.au/media/history.htm
43. Federation Week magazine cover, The Advertiser (Adelaide) 13-
21 Oct. 2001. ‘Face of S.A.’ photo mosaic, The Advertiser, 26
Jan. 2006, p. 1. B’nai B’rith poster prize winner,
‘Advancing Australia Fairly’ The Australian, 26 July 2007, p.
25.
44. Logos from corporations website home pages, available 12
July 2009.
45. Aboriginal flag, available:
http://www.flagaustnat.asn.au/aboriginalflag.php
46. Australian War Memorial, 2003, Hyde Park, London.
Available 9 July 2009:
http://www.londonlogue.com/files/2006/10/auswarmem2.jpg