THE classic Aussie shed may have moved with the times, but most retain many of their traditional elements, promoting resourcefulness and ingenuity, writes NATALEE WARD
Despite the decreasing size of house blocks and the growing popularity of alfresco dining areas and home theatres, for many men it's the shed that still holds the top spot.
Author Mark Thomson says the shed is a fundamental part of the home for most Aussie blokes.
"People crack jokes about it, but there are some serious issues regarding what a shed is all about," he says. "It's all about male identity - feeling useful and doing something useful. It looks at that question - what can you do to feel as though you have made a positive contribution to the world? The shed seems to be the answer to this problem."
Mark, whose business card announces he is the advanced research director of the Institute of Backyard Studies says these days sheds take many forms.
"Some are incredibly neat and some are incredibly messy and there are some sheds that morph into artist studios or machinery workshops. But at their heart, a shed is a building dedicated to purpose, it is actually about a place where you do things."
Mark has written two books, Blokes & Sheds and Makers, Breakers and Fixers. Both deal with the delicate subject of blokes, their sheds and their handy ways.
He admits he created his title for his institute one day while on hold waiting to do an interview on radio for one of his books.
"I became an instant shed specialist and expert on grumpy, lonely, isolated men," he says.
"The education system runs away from this notion of usefulness. Now they are desperately trying to make it up, but they still haven't tapped into the profound desire that makes people want to do things with their hands.
"It goes to the heart of what makes us a resilient, resourceful country."
Parting with nothing
"A MAN'S got to have a shed," says former mechanic and part-time racing car driver Ray Carrick. "Don't worry about the house, just make sure you have a shed."
At 67, Ray and his partner, Anna, recently retired and moved to Metung in a house they once used as a holiday retreat.
The property had a two-car garage but, on deciding they were going to move there permanently, Ray had a second shed built.
"The shed is about 16m by 9m," he says. "It would fit about six or seven cars if it was empty, but it's chockers with my stuff. A man can't throw anything out. I did go through a few boxes, but I just can't throw anything out."
In the shed is Ray's boat, a seven-metre cabin cruiser, plus his Valiant speedway racing car, an old FJ Holden and a 1934 Oldsmobile. And then there are the added essentials.
"There are four or five spare engines for the racing car - you have to have a few spares - plus mudguards, spare wheels and, of course, a car trailer to carry it all around.
"I used to strip cars and I kept all the parts in boxes," he says. "I've got every nut and bolt ever invented, boxes and boxes of tools, wheels and old car parts from Ford and Mercury days back in the 1920s and 1930s, little fancy grilles and headlight rims and chrome steering wheels, old Jaguar spoke wheels, motorbike parts ... just so much stuff."
The shed walls are lined with sashes and trophies from Ray's decade spent racing cars across Victoria, shelves are packed with tools and more spare parts while boxes are stacked in every corner.
Ray says he plans to sell some of his collection at swap meets, but confesses the meets can be part of the problem.
"I used to go to swap meets and I would sell my stuff, but then I would buy twice as much," he says. "I would take a trailer-load to sell and then go and fill the trailer up with more stuff and take it home again."
Ray says he spends much of his day in his shed using his tools - welders, cranes for lifting engines, trolleys and jacks. And if there is a dull moment, Ray can turn on his shed TV, perfect "for watching the car racing".
"I am a shed man," he says. "If you want to make something or do something, you get to go out and set it all up." Ray says he has a simple plan for his new Metung retirement. "I will get up in the morning, have my breakfast and get straight out into the shed. That's how it is going to be."
Artist in residence
CASTLEMAINE artist Peter Gray has built three sheds on his property, all from recycled materials designed to match the main home, an 1860s miner's cottage.
The sheds have classic, 45-degree pitched roofs, weatherboards and barge roll finishes.
One houses an office, while a second is a gallery where visitors come to see the rusty wire work he creates with his wife, Chelly.
But it is the third shed that is Peter's home away from home, a 7m by 12m studio shed at the back of his block.
"At our previous home, near Daylesford, we worked in an open tractor shed which was freezing," Peter says. "This shed is insulated, it's lined with timber, it's warm and everything is in its place - it's exactly the way we want it."
Unlike some sheds where chaos reigns, Peter's shed is a harmonious, ordered space. The shed walls are lined with wire cutters, bolt cutters, pliers and tin snips; timber boxes picked up from garage sales and second-hand dealers are filled with rivets, ball bearings and nails while metal boxes from an old machinery workshop line the walls, filled with gloves, ropes, lettering and stencils.
Outside, thousands of pieces of metal lie in racks against the shed wall, rusting in the elements, waiting to be made into another piece of Shades of Gray art. The radio is constantly tuned to the ABC and the couple's Great Dane, Ash, is a permanent fixture whenever the artist is at work.
The shed is a place for Peter to work, welding, twisting and shaping rusty wire to create garden signs, candelabra, mirrors, fire screens and functional objects to sculptures and metal grapevine pieces.
"I have drop saws, angle grinders, air compressors, welders, drills, jigsaws, electric planes, circular saws. They all have homes - they aren't just scattered around. After the day's work, you have to put everything away, it's only a small space, you have to keep it tidy."
Despite the orderly appearance, Peter says his shed is a work in progress.
"The shed has developed over the years to where it is today," he says. "It has doubled in size since I first built it. It's always changing."
The perfect prop
IN A giant geographical leap, artist Jonathan Leahey moved from Hollywood to Guildford in central Victoria.
"Gunshots were replaced by cows mooing and the roar of the 101 freeway was replaced by the wind going down the Loddon River," Jonathan says, who moved back to Australia after 16 years spent working abroad.
"This was the first place that matched our criteria - an hour and a half out of Melbourne, on a river, within walking distance from a pub and shop, 10 minutes off a major place I could get steel, and a place where no one could build us in."
Jonathan needed a shed for his sculpture work and his collection of tools.
"When we moved here, the shed was pathetic - it was nothing. It was just a steel superstructure, so we extended it and bricked around the whole thing - we basically ripped it down and rebuilt it."
In Hollywood, Jonathan worked in the film industry, creating special effects and robotics for films such as Aliens, Titanic and Peter Pan. On the John Travolta film Broken Arrow, Johnathon saved the production company tens of thousands of dollars when he used his Australian ingenuity to create a helicopter, which was to be set on fire, out of recycled car bonnets for about $1000.
These days, the artist, who has lived in England, France and central US can be found in his shed working on his next piece of sculpture as part of his business, Original Exclusive Objects.
"I love it," he says of his work and his days spent in his shed, sometimes accompanied by his border collie cross, Perro (which is Spanish for dog).
"I am incredibly happy just doing what I do, as long as I can make a living out of it," he says. "Most of my life is spent working, even if it is just conceptualising. There is not a big demarcation (between working and not working) because I love it so much.
"My shed is just big enough - it could be bigger. I have collected a fair bit of stuff and I have all my tools here - plasma cutters, cutting torches, anvils. There is lots of stuff everywhere. It's a bit of a bomb site - I am not great at organisational skills."
