Pentridge, Paris and a widow’s son outlawed

A portrait of place

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Written version:

‘I have been wronged,’ reads a Ned Kelly quote in the underground car park of the revamped Pentridge Prison. The words accompany a white stencil of the infamous bushranger’s face on a cobalt backdrop. Other quotes scatter the car park which leads to the belly of the brand-new mall.

The old prison is now a suburban development of apartments, housing and a new collection of shops sits in its northern end. The entire area is surrounded by a six-metre-high bluestone wall.

Cheerful music plays as I reach the top of the escalator from the car park. An A-frame sign reads ‘Jolly Shop’. An open concrete floor and bare white walls is host to a ‘kid’s machine entertainment ride.’ A sullen-looking man stares into a laptop. Faux fur-covered robotic animals line up in front of him. 

Next to the Jolly Shop, a classic barber called Classic Barber. Next to that, a cafe that sells elaborate fondant cakes. Next to that, an IGA with inner-suburban priced gourmet foods and a brown metal life-size sculpture of Ned. 

Ned is in full armour, one hand holding a gun, standing behind a sign that reads ‘prices slashed across all fruits and veg.’

In the direction Ned’s gun points is a retail outlet serving French fashion house names stuck on household items. Clearly the Paris end of Pentridge Shopping Centre. Glass candle holders with the Chanel insignia, a shirt that reads ‘What in the Dior?’, a coffee table book covered in millennial-pink glitter with the words ‘Louis Vuitton’ printed in black on the spine. Upon inspection, the book is filled with blank white pages.

‘They’re decorative,’ the woman behind the counter assures me.
‘Yeah, I’ve seen them before, my mum has some similar.’
‘So, you know what they’re all about?’
‘Yeah, I know what they’re all about.’

I walk past empty stores, someone’s soon-to-be exciting new retail opportunity, and exit the small shopping strip for the courtyard – now known as Pentridge Piazza. It’s 10 am on a Tuesday. It’s just me, some tradies, and a few mums and their toddlers wandering the grounds to a soundtrack of cranes and jackhammers.

Towering over the piazza are the bluestone walls; built in the 1850s by convicts using stone quarried from the surrounding landscape. Back then the local area outside the walls was also called Pentridge. Residents complained that sharing a name with the prison was driving property values down and the suburb name was changed to Coburg.

170 years later, prices start at $365,000 to buy a new apartment and claim for yourself a manicured lifestyle within the prison walls. 

‘Steeped in history yet created to be the epitome of elegance and convenience, every residence at Victoria Tower has been carefully crafted to offer the highest quality of life,’ the Pentridge website touts. 

The highest quality of life. 

From 1860, for 50 years, people were kept here silent and alone. 23 hours a day in a solitary cell. One hour of ‘airing’. In 1967, Ronald Ryan walked the gallows to meet his fate at the end of a noose as Australia’s last execution. In the late 1970s, the notorious Mark ‘Chopper’ Read requested his ears be hacked off by a cellmate. In 1987, five men burned alive during a prison escape. 

Perhaps it's Ned’s stylish blocky silhouette or his iconic bearded hipster look; maybe it sells well with the tabletops and flooring options in the flashy new apartments. And perhaps Chopper’s earless silhouette doesn't hit the same design notes. 

Ned Kelly – ‘widow’s son outlawed’, ‘national hero’, ‘defender of the oppressed’, convicted cop killer – his legacy once had him trapped behind these walls, now plastered all over them. A poster boy for a site of suffering come capitalist venture. 

Grab yourself a coffee, a vanilla-scented candle, some slashed priced veg, and soak in the history. Pentridge Shopping Centre and Piazza welcomes locals to become tourists in their own town for the latest merchandised offering of Australia's contradictory obsession with conservative law enforcement and the celebration of outlaws.

written March 2021