H. & E. Yee Mixed Business/Beverly Hills Pharmacy/Nothing – Beverly Hills, NSW
Here’s something bound to make you feel giddy – an old ice cream logo. H. & E. Yee packed it in years ago, and the new tenants, Beverly Hills Pharmacy, lazily stapled their awning sign over the top of the colourful Streets ad:
We should have a day where we go around tearing down these stuck-on signs, revealing the age-old signs of yesterday perfectly preserved underneath. Stanmore alone would provide this blog with enough material to last into the next century.
Anyway, because everyone in Beverly Hills suddenly and instantaneously became immune to all illnesses, the pharmacy closed. The stuff is still inside, as you can see, but it’s never open. The sour taste…
Orchard’s Corner/Raben Footwear – Haymarket, NSW
Raben Footwear may seem like it’s been at this Haymarket corner location for a thousand years, but in a time before Doc Martens and skinheads, the site belonged to Richard Beaumont Orchard, a watchmaker, jeweller and politician. Orchard’s original building had been demolished by the city in order to extend Quay Street to George Street, so to compensate he was given this building. Not sure whose idea it was to add the cheesy orchard-themed clock, though.
Orchard was a Sydney personality in the early 20th century; a sailor, an actor, founding Commissioner of the ABC and Federal Member for Nepean (Lib). By all accounts he seems like the kind of guy who’d have the ‘My Family’ stickers on the back of his car. His skills as a sloganeer left much to be desired, however; ‘Orchard’s: where the watches grow’. These days, you can find Orchard at Rookwood Cemetery, where he was buried after his watch stopped for good in 1942.
Broadway Theatre/Jonathan’s Disco/Phoenician Club/Breadtop – Ultimo, NSW
These days, this building on the corner of Mountain Street and Broadway, Ultimo, houses a convenience store, apartments, and our old friend Breadtop, but the inconspicuous facade hides a colourful and tempestuous history.
Built in 1911, the building started life as the Broadway Theatre, a cinema. With the advent of TV, this was one of many suburban cinemas that had fallen by the wayside by 1960, when it closed. In 1968, it was acquired by nightclub owner John Spooner and converted into Jonathan’s Disco, where it became well known as one of Sydney’s prime live music venues. Sherbet and Fraternity both got their big break at Jonathan’s, playing residencies involving six hour days for months on end. Imagine the poor disco staff having to listen to six hours of Sherbet a day for months. Perks of the job…
In May 1972, Jonathan’s Disco was gutted by fire. I can’t help but think it was one of those beleaguered staff members. “HowZAT?” they’d’ve quipped as they flicked their cigarette into the freshly-poured puddle of gasoline. The damage was extensive, and required a complete internal refit before it was opened again in 1976 as a ballroom dancing studio.
The Sydney City Council granted the Maltese community use of the premises as a licensed venue in 1980, when it became the Phoenician Club. Once more, the site became one of Sydney’s most popular live music venues with local bands such as Powderfinger and Ratcat playing gigs there throughout the late 80s and early 90s. Nirvana played their first Sydney show there in 1992 – a far cry from Sherbet. Around this time, the rave scene exploded in Sydney; a development that would lead to the end of the Phoenician Club.
Anna Wood, a 15yo schoolgirl from Belrose, attended an ‘Apache’ dance party at the Phoenician in October 1995, where she took ecstasy. Her resulting death shocked Sydney and enraged then-NSW Premier Bob Carr, who declared war on the Club. A series of fines and restrictions imposed on live venues in the wake of Wood’s death led to the closure of the Club in 1998 and the decline of Sydney’s live music scene which continues today. Good thing Wood wasn’t killed by a pokie machine.
From 1998 the site sat derelict, just in time for the Olympics. Nothing international visitors like seeing more than abandoned, graffiti-tagged buildings. In 2001 it was completely redeveloped internally, and today satisfies Carr’s idea of a venue put to good use.
Spice Corner/nothing – Hurstville, NSW
It takes balls to turn a corner shop into something as specific as a SPICE CORNER, but that’s exactly what the proprietors of this ‘All Asian Condiments’ shop did.
It’s nearly impossible to read without actually being there, but the shop was indeed the Spice Corner. Even Trove can’t save this one – someone once sold a German piano out of this address. Amazing, right?
The clearest and most visually appealing evidence of its former glory lies here, on the side of the shop.














