Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Saturday, December 17, 2011
...goats optional

from Winter Street Architects
I'm inspired by the colours of these wildflowers carpeting a city roof, a delightful hibridity of soft clothing for the urban hardscape; a colourful coat for a building. Gentle, beautiful.
These images from the USA, from Green Grid Roofs


Sunday, August 21, 2011
Where is the city square?

Thursday, July 21, 2011
AEC greenroof
For those of you have averted your faces, maybe it's time to take a new look at the Albany Entertainment Centre:

Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
THE NOT-SO-RADICAL CENTRE
extracts from
PRACTICE REVIEW
In reviewing a landscape practice, the statements of the practitioners can be used to measure their practice against the evidence that they themselves give of their work.
...Temporality: a nice idea, a seductive idea. It’s seduced a lot more landscape architects than these two[1].
In a landscape context the use of plants makes it a given – what grows, decays: implicit change over time… temporality is also a claim set against notions of fixity, the building, the white gallery space and the museum all fitting this category when the category was named[2]; the pot, the garden bed and the street curb are their landscape architecture cousins. “The Garden in Movement interprets and develops the energies found in the place...its name refers to the physical movement of plant species on the land, which the gardener interprets in his own way. Flowers grown [sic] in the middle of a path oblige the gardener to choose: should he conserve the passage or the flowers? …The design of the garden, which constantly changes, is the result of the work of the person who maintains it, not an idea developed on the drawing board.”[3] In this context, unmediated use of hard materials is a practice against temporality: sure they break down, but everything breaks down eventually. In the words of a master of change, “Everything passes/Everything changes/Just do what you think you should do.”[4] To respect the claim we would therefore ask what is the time frame referred to, what do you mean by change, who/what are the agents of change? How does the stone wall of the emergency services memorial “unfold like a blanket”? Unfortunately, these questions remain unanswered.
How close do the two sides of the triangle come together?
…if they are not close enough, then there are a number of options. You can change the story or be better at the practice. Perhaps that is about being brave. To claim a radical practice requires that I check my success against the claims I make with clear and transparent processes, if not to the world at least to myself.
[1] A project that has engaged with it in a real way, I would say, is Section 8. This project was a short-term act, that because of its success as a space remains, and the ‘built’ form that was otherwise (supposedly) destined for the site has been either canned or indefinitely postponed. It remains in place because it is interesting. Apparently when it ceases to be interesting it will cease to be. There are many others, like Sue-Anne Ware’s road side memorials, Act Two, and many I just can’t think of right now.
[2] There should be a reference here, but sorry, I haven’t got one. My guess is that it rose up with land art, systems art, performance etc in postformalist late 1950s/early 1960s, along with the break out of art from the white gallery space.
[3] Gilles Clément quoted on p13, Alessandro Rocca (Ed.), 2007,
[4] Bob Dylan, To Ramona. Copyright ©1964; renewed 1992 Special Rider Music
2008_pre-major

_Oops, just realised those labels are back to front. The verge is of course the public parkland - for now, anyway.
mcShed_2007

McShed was a way of using opportunities on site to bring more intensity and interest to the urban environment. Any food supplier could be the organisational centre for laying out the suburb: mcdonalds works because it is currently so disconnected from site, that it looks radical to use it rethink growing food in the city. My favorite design moment was the glass-walled abatoir next to the drive-thru. I think it's nice to be able to give the mcDoanalds customer something back, and this is a moment of theatre. It's a drive thru theatre...
MVRDV are the obvious precedent for thinking about urban systems. What my work does differently is tries to engage with a history of farming that is pre-industrial, and formally has an organic lyricism.

Saturday, October 10, 2009
taking down the fences
from the transcript to the radio program, Taking Down the Fences.

A great show for encounter on ABC Radio National.
Gondwanalink, as most Albany people know, is an amazing programme to regrow a strip from Kalgoorlie to Margaret river, the brainchild of Keith Bradby.
What excites me about it is that taking down fences and reclaiming farm land demands a rethink of entire social, cultural and community systems. And it proposes using nature as the infrastrucure through which human interaction with the land is controlled.
Keith Bradby: ... Again, at the risk of sounding either arrogant or facetious or some other rude word, we have formally apologised as a nation to the Aboriginal people of Australia for shall we say both our mistakes and our intentional wrongs. And I don't think we have yet formally apologised to the country as a whole for our clumsiness and our mistakes and our intentional damage. And I think when you work on something like Gondwanalink and you say 'Look, over 1,000 kilometres we've ripped it asunder and broken the essential links', at some point you do have to apologise to the land or at least do those things which help atone for those wrongs.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Bringing architecture and nature together

This is by Terunobu Fujimoi.
I took the photo of a slide at his lecture on Wednesday night. He has a piece in the "Shelter: On Kindness" exhibition at RMIT gallery for the Melbourne fringe festival.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Scale of the new garden.
Chance: the chance events of viable seeds somehow managing to land in an hospitable soil in a vast desert of cement, and the chance of history preferencing one species over another for a complex planting of human-preferred geometries.
Design next to nature makes an interesting question: does nature design? To bring it a more manageable size I'll use Bill Mollison's axiom: everything gardens. This is as true of plants as it is of us, rabbits and ring tailed possums: everything tries to modify the conditions that it finds itself in to be more amenable, more capable of meeting its needs and comfort and ensuring the continued survival of itself as an individual and a species.
To get to the point, it's probably more fair to ask what's the same?
Because I'm tempted to say there's no difference, from this point of view:
both of these gardens are a whole bunch of plants and other animals (insects, microbes...) struggling to survive in a hostile environment managed by human beings. What we describe as difference is often around how we, as aesthetically focused, historically minded cultural animals feel, how we consider what are the histories of these styles of garden, on the one hand the intensely managed royal gardens that speak of power and privilege, on the other the vertiginous survival despite the odds: the wandering suburbanite, roundup in one hand, lawn mower in the other, how much odder do you get than that?
I don't know about the French floral condition, but here we know these little plants as garden weeds. And weeds in our bush. From their point of view they are living organism doing what living things do: their best to survive in the condition in which they find themselves.
As far as the concept of garden goes, is it too big of a leap to consider these little gardens with as much fidelity to the notion of garden as the Versailles gardens, to the notion of public parks as a botanical garden, as a soccer field, a reserve, a suburban park, a regional park? As the garden in the main street? As the front yard? It's about scale.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
D.I.R.T.
http://www.archinect.com/features/article.php?id=45200_0_23_0_M

and Duisburg-Nord

Looking at DIRT through the question "What can this practice teach me that will help my own practice?"
a) a precedent for working on site at a powerful and proactive community level.
b) phytoremediation as a valid action
c) a new way of thinking about site: as part of the ongoing process of globalized capitalism.
d) whose voices do we hear, when we design this site?
e) This project forced me to look at Robert Smithson in a new light: he is actually really interesting! And what I am reminded to do from this is to question my assumptions!
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
internialities
embedded practice_working directly in the community in which you are living
hold the whole system in the mind; is this future a system small enough to fit?
intensity_of settlement.
(what is a city?)
regarding settlement patterns as areas of intensity and dispersal how can we reconfigure our settlement patterns in a more effective, creative and sustainable way?
on a continuum most least intense dispersed
moments of intensity within boundaries which limit geographic spread.
boundaries in time, boundaries in space.
without boundaries, but within "zones" of intensity. i don't like that word here, sounds too geographically deterministic, but moments is too ephemeral. it is geographic, it is fixed in a place for a time, and it reflects temporal opportunities
refiguring the urban/rural binary as moments of intensity in a field of possibilities.
all to the purpose of allowing other species to flourish for their own sake.
maintenance is the most import pattern information we can use to define the use and uselessness of the landscape.
what is landfill but an opportunity for life, an intensity of potentials, millions of potential sites for organisms so flourish?
Monday, August 24, 2009
Green Gutter

Walking the streets and laneways, coming across one of these beautiful gardens is such a joyous moment!