Gold and Grime
Daylight. Walking West up little Bourkc Slrccl over Elizabeth. If the jostling with pedestrians on the narrow footpath, if the glimpses of shop windows, if the aromas of Italian coffee machines fail to distract a moment, then the bird feeder, window boxes and occasional flags from a second floor window might. At night, experimental music and many boices echo along this deserted streetscape.
then the bird feeder, window boxes and occasional flags from a second floor window might. At night, experimental music and many voices echo along this deserted strcctscape.
Four flights of stairs up from the crowded street, lime moves noticeably slower. Skylights spill a tranquil light on a chaotic theatre of jewellery manufacture, music and spectacle. The rooftop sprinkler system transforms the hot tin roof into a spontaneous xylophone, and the city could just as well not exist.
After completing his jewellery apprenticeship lo Laslo Puzsar and establishing his first workshop. Marcus Davidson, gold and bakersmith. moved lo the Little Bourke Street workshop in 1987. enlisting another jeweller and a shoemaker to join him. The one tool they had in common was a vice, so the workshop became the Vice Full Metal Workshop (VFMW).
In the mid 80s Marcus started street drawing in the city. He started with just a few energetic characters that quickly developed into a full cast: cone men, double cats, box cockies, spannermen and many more continue to punctuate the city. Occasionally the fines are subsidised by appearances in spots like the Melbourne Music Festival.
various dance clubs, on clothing and for fun on the Dry Dock at the launch of The Interior The graffiti imagery progressed naturally into jewellery. At first it was drawn onto meial with chasing and repoussee. and later it became Bakelite cutouts. Eventually the drawings were made into hallmarks that now embellish all forms of work from pirate earrings and biker rings (sold at Badger in Melbourne and Remo in Sydney) to larger works such as the candelabra for the Lady Chapel. St. Francis Church and the nickel-silver crema-lorium doors at Springvale. Marcus has an egalitarian approach lo his materials as well as his imagery, treating gold with abandon and Bakelite as a precious gem.
The workshop's white painted floor, deeply worn in patterns of years of traffic, leads to various small workstations fashioned from found materials; a polishing booth, an acids kitchen, the central workbench, individual workbenches, the shadowboard and the fridge.
The polishing booth with a draped canvas roof was constructed out of lift doors, and a central work bench was set up to carry wire rollers and vices for common use. The individual workstations contain an array of specialist tools and in Marcus' case also an elaborate collection of paraphernalia gathered during his seventeen years in the city. The collection starts at the doorway in an old liftcar interior. The leadlight dome and mirrored oak panels form an entrance ball where clients can try out work for a 360 degree viewing (the vanalorium).
The magic of visiting the VFMW lies within the alchemy knitted by distractions between these places. The pot-belly stove, the charts and maps, hazardous chemical warnings, 'he collections, paintings and drawings, the work in progress, the flying fish, the meetings, bartering and the spe-cial detachment not only from the city, but from city lime. VFMW exists a place in other than city lime-space.