Richmond is a suburb of Melbourne, Australia, 3 km south-east of Melbourne's Central Business District in the local government area of the City of Yarra municipality.The 2011 Census listed Richmond's population as 26,121.
Three of the 82 designated major activity centers identified in the Melbourne 2030 Metropolitan Strategy are located in Richmond—the commercial strips of Victoria Street, Bridge Road and Swan Street.
The diverse suburb has been the subject of gentrification since the early 1990's and now contains an eclectic mix of expensively converted warehouse residences, public housing high-rise flats and terrace houses from the Victorian-era. The residential segment of the suburb exists among a lively retail sector and a shrinking industrial and manufacturing base. Richmond was home to the Nine Network studios, under the call sign of GTV-9, until the studios moved to Docklands in 2011.
Dimmeys is long associated with Richmond, although it is located in the neighboring suburb of Cremorne. The suburb is well known for its textile industry history and popular factory outlets, centered along Bridge Road and remain an attraction to the area.
Richmond is well known for its vibrant and popular Little Saigon area along Victoria Street; however, the area is also recognized for the illicit drug dealing (especially heroin) that occurs in both street-based and domestic contexts.
Richmond was named after Richmond Hill, London, with its outlook of the river bend (Yarra), however the waterfront area was later named Cremorne.
Richmond Oysters is a casual restaurant specializing in fresh and cooked seafood dishes. It’s easy-going and amiable – not the place for a romantic dinner, but terrific for a quick meal, whether with friends or on your own.
Richmond Oysters is a strange combination of fish shop and restaurant. The business started decades ago as a fish and seafood wholesaler and the owners opened a retail outlet and restaurant next door a few years ago.
I've always heard good comments to Richmond Oysters' products. They're famous for offering an extensive list of good quality fresh fish at reasonable prizes and they didn't disappoint! Except the prices have gone up of late
Address: 437/443 Church Street, Richmond VIC 3121
Vandalism is a two edged word. Usually we take it to mean wanton destruction, but it can refer to the robust visual culture of the Huns, Vandals and Visigoths.
This original vandalism was an incoherent mess to the eyes of Graeco-Roman beholders. Brought up on the idealized forms of late Hellenism, such viewers discerned no beauty in the tribal-looking knots of vandal decorative arts.
The cultural gap was just too broad - what was later to be admired as pre-Gothic whorls, appeared to them as the fumbled scratching's of uncivilized barbarians. As in third century Rome, so, too, in modern Australia.
Vandalism is again a word with a double-meaning. The average commuter is disturbed by the tangled, gaudily colored graffiti that covers railway carriages and factory walls. Such obvious vandalism strikes him as an offence to the civilized eye, a visible symptom of social disintegration and juvenile delinquency. But is it?
Spawned in New York during the early 1970's, contemporary graffiti arrived in Australia a decade later along with hip-hop, break-dancing and rap music. It was an immensely attractive visual idiom. A far cry from the political slogans and toilet smut formerly filling the category of graffiti, the bold, bright compositions executed in spray can enamel seemed the perfect embodiment of an emerging youth subculture.
At first the only information on the genre consisted of a documentary film on Bronx street life Style Wars, the glossy art book Subway Art by Henry Chalfant & Martha Cooper, and a B-grade feature movie Beat Street. Still, this was enough for local teenagers, who formed into groups ('crews') and, armed with spray-paint, raided rail yards at night to cover trains with elaborate compositions.
After a moment of curiosity, the lens of popular culture shifted elsewhere, but graffiti had taken a hold on urban youth. More crews appeared and competitively sprayed their nicknames on trains and stations, and, of course, the authorities launched campaigns to catch the offenders.
Nowadays the Australian graffiti subculture is like a weird cross between Clockwork Orange and a Jacobean revenge drama. It is a world of daring mischief, petty crime, intense gang rivalry and pumped-up youthful swagger.
Life seems to run at a different tilt, with individuals being identified only by fanciful noms-de-guerre and conversations rattled off in a speedy argot. Artists are 'writers'; their craft is 'graff'; a drawn or painted nickname is a 'tag'; a large composition on a piece of wall is a 'piece', and so on.
Graffiti offers these practitioners far more than creative release mingled with the adrenalin rush of risk. It is a highly competitive and territorial activity, a means of proving one's mettle. Each crew uses spray-cans to stake their claim on a train-line or district, with 'slashing' (overwriting) their tags over other's logos being perceived as a symbolic fight or rumble.
Top of the heap are 'kings', writers who are admired for their 'burners' (full color compositions), their 'mission pieces' (risky works), their proficiency at 'throw ups' (improvised two-color tags), and their prolific 'bombing' (tagging districts), 'loops' (tagging rail lines) and 'panels' (tagging trains).
Bottom of the hierarchy are unimaginative 'toys': writers who either 'bite' (copy) others or whose work is just 'wak' (inept). Everyone is out to prove him or herself top dog by embellishing their name somewhere, on something, while flouting someone.