Though some of Hadid’s earlier projects seem to burst forth from their surroundings like living, writhing beings, here the opposite is true. MAXXI carries its own distinct weight and character, but it does so as a continuation of the surrounding low-level urban texture. It is, in essence, an “urban graft”: a second skin over the site, rather than an external attachment. This is a building that makes its statement simply by not making a statement. This is, after all, a “Zaha” piece: from the architect whose oeuvre is typified by sinuous ribbon-like curves and a dramatic almost non-structural form. One could expect a breathtakingly outrageous outward expression. But MAXXI is not glossy or ostentatious: it is a homage to raw grey concrete on the exterior, with a bold but neutral black-andwhite palette a l’interieur.
Croatia is one of the latest “It Countries” at the top of every tourist’s European must-see agenda. Its capital city is Zagreb, which can be further refined into the New Zagreb area, and refined further still to find the Travno quarter within. At the very centre of this quarter lies a pocket of green parkland, and a short distance away, looms something altogether gargantuan: the megavolume apartment block, Mamutica. True to its name – Mamutica means “Mammoth” in English – this 20-storey monolith is one of the largest communal housing blocks in southeast Europe, and is home to around 5000 residents, making it the largest building (by volume) in all of Croatia. But we are not on a mammoth-hunting expedition. No, to find the quarry of this pursuit we must look to the interstitial space between the monster and a small park nearby. Here, we find the Parish Church of St Luke the Evangelist: the heart of the Travno quarter, and the soul it so verily needed.
Herning and the textile industry share a long and interwoven relationship, and the nearby Angli shirt factory – a paragon of 1960s architecture famous for its iconic shirt-collar form – was a leading inspiration for the shirt-sleeves shape of the new museum, known rather charmingly as HEART (HErning/ART). The softly folded curving roofs are even made from a stress skin of carbon fibre strands within a resin matrix: a fabric – of sorts – in itself. The museum ties together a three-piece suit of cultural institutions – the Herning Center of the Arts, the MidWest Ensemble, and the Socle du Monde – in a united, innovative forum.
They say the most successful plans are 99% preparation, 1% execution, and this Kangaroo Island beach house is no exception. Some would-be dreamhome-owners live onsite – in a less-than-dream home – for years before finally building up the courage (and the kitty) to realise their architectural fantasies. In doing so, they get a chance to learn the intricacies of the local topography, the seasonal weather patterns, and where to stand to get the best views.
Adaptive reuse usually starts with an existing building, and ends with an exterior facelift, or a complete interior redesign, or both. But what if the start point is but a burnedout shell of a building? The result, as here, is less “reuse” and more “resurrection”. Building 13 had already undergone adaptive reuse in 2007 – and proved instantly popular with the cyclists and walkers frequenting the riverside park. So when the café was completely destroyed by fire that November, the need for a replacement became instantly apparent.
Built as one of three weekenders in a ‘family compound’ on Victoria’s Mornington Peninsula, Zac’s House was originally conceived – and conditionally approved – as a two-storey project, with an eye to minimising the building footprint. The idea was to build ‘up’, not ‘out’. But by the time Neeson Murcutt inherited the project this had all changed: the usefulness of the outdoor areas was limited by setback requirements, and the impact on neighbours was proving too difficult to manage. So instead of abandoning the existing conditional approval and embarking on a lengthy new planning process, Neeson Murcutt set about finding a workable ‘complying’ design: a one-storey home that stretched to the boundary, forging a better home-garden relationship in the process, not to mention dramatically lowering its profile – both vertically and in terms of visual impact.
Custodianship of the land is a two-way street: a matter of give and take. The custodians, as a reward for taking care of the land, are entitled to benefit from its bounties. And the land, by sustaining its users, benefits from the care they take in maintaining and sustaining it.
Wangka Maya Pilbara Aboriginal Language Centre by Paradigm Architects
Custodianship of the land is a two-way street: a matter of give and take. The custodians, as a reward for taking care of the land, are entitled to benefit from its bounties. And the land, by sustaining its users, benefits from the care they take in maintaining and sustaining it.
Located in the tropical, arid environs of South Hedland, Western Australia, the Wangka Maya Pilbara Aboriginal Language Centre embodies this symbiosis between the land and its community, and the bridging function of the built form at the nexus of this relationship. The centre incorporates sustainable principles with indigenous cultural sensitivities to provide a serious of functional offices and meeting spaces inspired by the needs of the human users, as well as those of the environment.
The Australian bush vernacular – what the architects describe as an “industrial and agricultural corrugated iron aesthetic” – is already ideally adapted to the harsh climate in which it and its users must endure. It was therefore the logical basis for Paradigm’s ultimate concept: a collection of pavilion buildings, with rammed earth to echo the rich tones of the Pilbara land, a timber-screened verandah dappled in shade from native trees, and upwardly curved Custom Orb® wall and roof panelling, for that classic woolshed aesthetic (literally,“with a twist”).
In the desert, it would be impossible to completely eliminate artificial cooling (at some point, one must reach a reasonable balance between saving the environment, and saving the building’s users!). Ergo, each pavilion is cooled by mechanical air conditioning throughout the summer, but demand and consumption is mitigated through careful use of passive thermal techniques, and the system is switched off entirely for the cooler six months of the year.
Structurally, the building works just as hard (though passively of course) to keep temperatures down. High corrugated ceilings and cross ventilation are backed up by ubiquitously Aussie ceiling fans, which help to circulate fresh air into the interior and send hot stale air outside. Insulated concrete floors serve as a heat sink, and the vehicle lock-up holds down two additional roles: protecting the main building from the western sun, and creating a shady gathering area for the centre’s staff. Also a very ‘Aussie’ feature, shaded outdoor decks serve as naturally ventilated and lit work areas, while fostering communication between individuals, and with the landscape itself.
The choice of lighting solutions is a further display of attention to detail in this even-handed consideration for both the users and the environment. For the sake of comfort, high-level windows and white Custom Orb ceilings introduce ample natural daylighting to the interior, and help to reduce sound attenuation. But on the environmental level, this also reduces the need for artificial lighting, which, even when it is required, is controlled by both motion and photosensors, and therefore activated only when needed by the user, and also only when insufficient natural light is detected. A solar/heat pump hot water system, wastewater treatment system and selective choice of construction materials further reduces the environmental footprint of the building, with plans for a grid-connected photovoltaic energy system in the future, which should assist in achieving complete carbon neutrality.
But let us not overlook the fact that this project also draws on much, much older ideas, inherent to the indigenous people of this land, as well as the newer concepts of environmental sustainability and aspiring carbon neutrality. A breezeway “spine” incorporates a play of light and shadow through screens and roof forms, which combined with the rammed earth wall is intended to recreate the timeless experience of walking through a desert gorge. And as much as the land and its people require practical sustainability, they both also need spirit and vibrancy, culture and colour. And so Paradigm Architects chose a spectrum of vivid greens and pinks, ‘burnt’ veneers and rich reds and browns, to reflect the colourful people and landscape while instilling an atmosphere as professional as it is fun. +
PHOTOGRAPY Don Palmer
1. An entry verandah welcomes visitors to the building and provides a shady meeting and resting spot. The roof twists up to the north to form a tropical chimney, while timber screens are employed as shading along the verandah edge. 2. The Wangka Maya Pilbara Aboriginal Language Centre retreat explores the notion of connection to the typical building idiom of the region using corrugated steel, timber, louvres and Pindan. High, corrugated ceilings with ceiling fans are iconic features of the vernacular. 3. Walkways utilise an ‘eroded’ aggregate concrete finish that is robust and durable. Decks provide comfortable sitting/working platforms, referencing the traditional verandah form. 4. The breezeway spine, with a play of light and shadow through screens, roof forms and rammed earth walls contributes to the sense of walking through a gorge. 5. Dry river beds add to the spatial quality and deal with torrential rain through roof openings and overflows.
The creative headspace can only flourish under ideal conditions, when it is nurtured in a creative space of the physical variety. Da Vinci had his workshop, the Beatles had Abbey Road, and Willy Wonka had his Chocolate Factory. The Australasian Performing Rights Association (APRA) and Australasian Mechanical Copyright Owners Society (AMCOS) was, until recently, based out of a traditional compartmentalised 3-storey office building in St Leonards. And now what does APRA call home? A refurbished-to-purpose warehouse in Pyrmont, replete with open plan workspaces, meaningful interior design, a rooftop terrace, and – perhaps most importantly – a unique personality. It just goes to show what good things may come when developer interest presses for a change of location.
