Remembering Brian Watson (02.02.1935 – 18.03.2023)

Many collectors and especially ESA members knew Brian Watson, always affable, always well-informed, and happy to share collecting advice and information. So, there was much sadness when Brian died last year. His daughter Ruth Lowes provided us with a tribute:

Brian loved ephemera. As we move into a world of Artificial Intelligence, robots that can create artworks via brush strokes on canvas and the calculated manipulation of digital imagery to instantly produce just about any apparently ‘accurate’ composition on paper at all, we might indeed wonder at how very ephemeral our world has become. Brian would undoubtedly greet the possibilities of new technology with curiosity and a resounding, “You can’t stop progress!” Yet the human connection to the ephemera in his collection was ever present.

He walked Melbourne

Born in 1935, Brian’s family lived in Abbotsford, just a block back from the Convent and close to the Yarra River. He worked from the age of seven, selling newspapers in Johnston Street. His earnings contributed to the family income. He loved nature and the outdoors, rearing himself by the banks of the Yarra, where he spent a lot of his time escaping the drudgery of what was then a very poor suburb. He learnt to fish, swim, explore and imagine. Like many at this time, his childhood was heavily impacted by the post-war years and its vast challenges. He felt lucky to live near the ‘lungs of inner Melbourne’, this green stretch of land, river, and rocks, amidst once grungy factories and dense urban housing. As a very independent ‘free range’ child, Brian knew his suburb and those surrounding very well, as he would sometimes walk for miles. His developing interest in the architecture of Melbourne and its history manifested much later in some of his collections.

 Brian’s collecting was intrinsically related to his passion for Melbourne and Australian products and their packaging and advertising. Dominant interests were vintage Australian tea tins, MacRobertson’s chocolates boxes, food and recipe pamphlets, food wrappers, and letterheads of Melbourne businesses predating and including the boom of Marvellous Melbourne and onwards. Brian would point out the architecturally detailed graphics of buildings and shopfronts.

Another collecting interest was postcards of Melbourne. Brian recommended collecting on a theme like say Flinders Street Station, but he also enjoyed notes inked on the back, “Looking forward to meeting you at Flinders Street Station next Friday 5pm” or images of cheeky children caught in Swanston Street striking a self-conscious larrikin pose for the new technological creation – the camera.

Brian documented in ephemera

After his death, I discovered in a small plastic display album an almost complete collection of his business cards dating back to the late 1950s, as he rose from state and regional and to national Sales Manager for Uncle Ben’s, Cussons, L’Oreal of Paris, and Australian Dried Fruit Sales. These business cards document the ambition and talent of a very successful man. (His career had started with a very early teenage stint as a store man and packer to window dresser.) He had a professional and personal fascination with the power of advertising and marketing, manifesting in later life as a passion for collecting the advertising, packaging and other marketing ephemera produced to engage consumers.

Sultanas at the Zoo

In the early 1980s, Brian was the National Sales Manager (Australian Dried Fruits Sales). His much-loved wife Vera, who was a keen collector of vintage kitchenware and shared his love of reading and history, suggested that the company sponsor the newborn gorilla at the Melbourne Zoo. Brian agreed and succeeded in persuading ADFS to sponsor, and the venture became a prominent news item for many years. Sultana sales boomed and Brian and the newly named Mzuri became a publicity duo for ADFS and the Zoo.  It is a poignant memory that some years later when Mzuri was farewelled from Melbourne Zoo to join a breeding program in the UK, a news documentary about this change for the gorilla deeply moved Brian.  This speaks again to the humanity that can exist within ephemeral items and connect us to the past. The beautiful, bold black and white professional photos of my father and Mzuri remain treasured items.

In 2017, doing my own search for some early professional photos of my youthful foray into the local theatrical world, I met with an archivist at the Arts Centre Melbourne. The aim being to a view a large catalogue of negatives.  As we sat down, I glanced towards a display table and a large, attractive magazine prominent in an upright position. The compelling cover shot was located on a copy of the Ephemera Society of Australia’s beautifully produced magazine, emblazoned with that magnetic photo of businessman Brian Watson presenting Mzuri with a birthday cake at the Zoo so many decades before. I let out an astonished cry and explained to the surprised archivist, “That man in the photo there with the gorilla is actually my father!”  As soon as I got back out onto St Kilda Road, I phoned Brian. We both marvelled at the odds of this happy coincidence.

Brian was a long-time member of Ephemera Society of Australia, the Essendon Historical Society and volunteered at the Royal Historical Society of Victoria for many years.

Recognising Brian

Historian Robyn Annear dedicated her recent publication ‘Corners of Melbourne’ to Brian. This was a very special and moving gesture. Dad would have been so proud and pleased. The book is fabulous!  As well as being very informative historically, it contains sections about billboard posters and other ephemera and advertising (amongst other subjects) it is very funny and imaginative.

Originally published in Ephemera news May 2024.