The following tongue-in-cheek cafe ‘About’ section was kindly written by Angus Trumble - former Director of the National Portrait Gallery of Australia, scholar, art curator, author and dear friend of the Bookplate team.

Opened on 15 August 1968 by Prime Minister John Grey Gorton, and set upon a handsome stone laid a little more than two years earlier by Prime Minister Sir Robert Menzies, the National Library of Australia was designed for the Parliamentary Triangle by Walter Bunning in association with T. E. O’Mahony of the Canberra and Sydney firm of Bunning and Madden. 

Originally planned to reproduce exactly the noble proportions of the immortal Parthenon in Athens, Bunning gave his building the same number of columns (Greek-cross in section: 8 front and back, 17 down each side). However, with their customary vision, and to achieve a modest saving, between 1966 and 1968 the mandarins of the National Capital Development Commission cut out one row of columns on the long sides, producing a curious new proportion of 8 by 16.

Inevitably, the great libraries of the world must consider catering arrangements. All readers eventually get tired, hungry and thirsty. However, when recalling the terrible loss of the famous ancient libraries of Alexandria (papyri) and Pergamon (parchments), historians of the ancient world have paid scant attention, certainly given little credit, to the unsung providers of their respective refreshment facilities. Yet, toiling away in the Library of Alexandria, Eratosthenes of Cyrene, for example, might never have succeeded in so accurately calculating the circumference of the earth, not just without ever leaving Alexandria, but, more importantly, without from time to time seeking a restorative cup of wine, fresh from the amphora, and a dish of figs from the Nile delta, still warm from the sun. It is safe to assume, meanwhile, that when the Roman Emperor Aurelian so angrily sacked Alexandria and destroyed the famous Library, he never once considered the resulting plight of the catering subcontractors.

Today, everything is different. There is Bookplate. Entering the National Library of Australia from Parkes Place West, one passes beneath Tom Bass’s monumental beaten copper lintel sculpture (1968), and into a handsome lofty atrium or foyer, enriched by panels of Travertine and polished white and green marbles, dominated by three huge tapestries by the Hungarian designer and architect Mathieu Matégot (1968). Folded seamlessly into this singular mid-century Moderne vision of light and space, Bookplate, the National Library’s spacious café, is further embraced by pairs of floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows designed by Leonard French. Bookplate provides readers and visitors alike not only with a menu that hints at both ends of the Silk Road, fortunately passing over the gritty barrenness in between, but also creates a beguiling atmosphere of quiet, teased at the same time and caressed by rich colour.

At Bookplate, visitors alert to the unique vibrations of the national capital may spot established and struggling authors alike, or high officials from the Treasury nearby, or foreign emissaries, or eminent scholars of Australian dance, or earnest graduate students tapping away on their laptops, or, in sitting weeks, dark-suited lobbyists with little gold pins on their left lapel, seeking temporary relief from the hothouse atmosphere of the Commonwealth Parliament. Are there not, as well, discreet assignations, possibly of an intimate nature, or else encounters that would appear to be chance were they not ingeniously choreographed by members of our hardworking intelligence community? Obviously one has no way of telling for sure, but a great library embraces everything. And so does its café. 

No matter what else they may be doing, or whatever else they may select from the breakfast, brunch or lunch menus, however, visitors to this Canberra landmark, this forum of refreshment, may at the very least avail themselves of that universal restorative, that joy, that soothing elixir of domesticity, that conversational stimulant—a nice cup of tea.

In this context, it is important to note that Trove, the National Library’s collaborative online portal and point of access to masses of information from sources spread all across the nation, returns 11,106,142 hits for “tea” alone, but only Bookplate provides onsite access to the genuine article, so lovingly prepared by our attentive professional staff—viz., Waypoint breakfast, Earl Grey, peppermint, Aussie sencha, lemongrass and ginger. Welcome, and bon appetit.