I was recently asked to write a small article for an architectural publication on a very modest form of building - a cubby house - located within a coastal Sydney backyard. The approach described in the use of local materials is equally relevant for the design and construction of kayaks.
The architecture of holidays.
The much-anticipated summer holidays in our household begin with three sleeping boys being carefully carried into the family car before dawn and then driven along the twisting Pacific Highway to a favourite beach house on the mid-north coast of NSW.
If we’re fortunate, we’ll get a clear run out of Sydney and be well past the twisted angophoras of the Hawkesbury River before any other limbs are stirring in the back seat.
Before long the Manning River appears and with it tall forests begin to press in on the highway and present us with a landscape that was once commonplace along the mid-north coast of NSW - mature stands of blackbutt, flooded gum, tallow wood and spotted gum towering into optimistic morning skies.
The Northern Rivers drain the eastern flanks of the Great Dividing Range into the Pacific and have, over many hundreds of millennia, formed valleys and steeply inclined habitats into which have evolved some of this continent’s most magnificent trees.
Local places with names such as Cedar Creek, Bloodwood and Millers Road describe the industries that grew up like mistletoe in these east coast forests and hungrily devoured vast areas of their hosts within generations of the timber- cutter’s arrival.
It was into one of the remaining timber mills near Nambucca - with a sustainably harvested queue of mature trees being fed into its terrifying blades - that I coasted at the end of our last summer holiday to purchase half-a-dozen blackbutt 4 by 2s in six metre lengths.
Rough sawn out of their dismembered parent trunk and dripping wet with clear sap these golden yellow beams were fastened onto the car’s roof for the long journey south over the Northern Rivers to Sydney.
Stowed within the rafters of a boatshed by the harbour for 6 hope-filled months the timber steadily reached moisture equilibrium with its new atmosphere.
Originally intended for use in the construction of a veranda the now beautifully seasoned timber was suddenly re-directed by the urgent claims of a six-year old and his two younger co-conspirators for a cubby house in the backyard.
With a simple unscaled sketch to serve as construction documentation the cubby house was built over a couple of enjoyable Sydney winter days.
The drop saw and power drill releasing the bound up aromas of east coast forest with every deep slice and penetration of the wood’s tight grain.
Accompanying this phase of construction was the running thread of commentary from my enthusiastic young clients eager to occupy their special space with its key internal dimensions sized directly from their own bodies.
Mercifully, this project was unencumbered by development applications, value management sessions and building information models.
Arm-lengths of spotted gum sourced from the same region as the blackbutt - and salvaged many years previously as off-cuts from a large-scale project - were arranged into a balustrade of battens. A sheet of marine grade plywood formed cantilevered seating brackets – sized for little legs.
Dowels of Tasmanian oak were driven in as tree-nails to bond beams to posts. Joists recovered from a demolished building nearby were commandeered to form a floor structure. White cedar plywood provided a soffit to one of the roof planes. The roof was sheathed in a combination of clear and opaque profiled sheet to provide shade from the north and reveal views into an adjacent tree canopy to the south.
The completed structure is open to coastal breezes and picks up sunlight in ways that appeal to an architect’s eye.
Materials are more than just screens to environmental conditions and barriers for security.
Naturally sourced materials speak of the environments from which they were once formed – the soil profiles, rainfall and climates of their origin.
Materials are the words through which architecture can be read as a composition in harmony with the story of its landscape.
Now adorned with a collection of items found along the east coast – abalone and oyster shells, crayfish carapaces, native orchids, sea sponges and sections of humpback whale bone – this most modest of buildings is a place of retreat and play for our children and a sentimental recollection of east coast holidays past.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
This morning the sky came down to touch the harbour.
Shark Island (Boambilly) appearing like a moody Japanese temple garden.
To the west, the city was hidden behind its saturated cloak of cloud.
Whisps of cloud tumbling over and around the shoulders of North Head.
Shelly Beach ...
Paddling home via the airscape / seascape / landscape
Thursday, August 4, 2011
In May 2012, the Australian National Maritime Museum will host a two-day national conference on Australian indigenous watercraft, entitled Nawi - Exploring Australia's indigenous watercraft.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
The Tasman Sea is momentarily calm this mid-winter morning.
The shaded cliffs seem to sway as high altitude winds drive icey clouds in crescent arcs across the sky - seemingly echoing the spray of the migrating whales travelling out along the horizon.
Preparing to dive beneath the surface.
And returning with a bag of winter crays.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
This harbour city is fortunate to retain significant remnant landscape.
(Nielsen Park on the southern shore. Bradleys Head on the northern shore.)
However, like this incongrous statue at Point Piper, much of our built environment is displaced, dislocated, looking outwards but not seeing inwards, and unable to converse in the "language" of its landscape.
In those precious places where the Sydney harbourscape retains continuity with its long evolution it is characterised by an inter-relationship of salt water, filtered and reflected light, endemic flora and sandstone geology.
Sydney's sandstone weathers into dramatic organic / fluid-like forms that challenge and contrast with our cartesian origins. Wind currents sculpt curved surfaces, honey-comb pockets and arches.
Some examples of positive intervention within the harbourscape:
Craig Burton Associates
Natural shelter for first inhabitants.
Contemporary shelter at the harbour's edge.
Open to harbour.
Stefan Lesiuk - Architect
Screened elevation to street.
Elegant materials well organised.
Yet native hardwoods (instead of WRC), local sandstone (instead of limestone) and endemic flora (instead of exotics) would have been more meaningful to context.
Still, this house generates a positive dialogue with the scattered sunlight and breezes of the harbour's edge.
Filtered internal sunlight.
A summary of this morning's themes - salt water, filtered and reflected light, endemic flora and sandstone geology.
(Steele Point, Nielsen Park)
Turning away from the harbour, shadows cast by a Port Jackson fig fall across a sandstone ledge.
(Steele Point, Nielsen Park)
Contemplating this morning's wandering around the harbourscape.
Our brightly coloured kayaks incongruous components of the transitory built environment. Or are they?
Naturally occuring red and yellow ochres.