Winter Collective 2021

Page 1

A selection of projects from semester one, 2021 at The University of Western Australia, School of Design. The University of Western Australia acknowledges that its campus is situated on Noongar land, and that Noongar people remain the spiritual and cultural custodians of their land, and continue to practice their values, languages, beliefs and knowledge.

Designed and edited by Lara Camilla Pinho, Andy Quilty, and Samantha Dye. Marketing Officer: Kristen Greening

In memory of Gina (Aylett) Evangelista. 1959 - 2021

Image: ARCT3001 Architecture Studio 3 displays. Cullity Gallery, 2021 Winter Collective Exhibition opening night, 10 June 2021. Photography by

Samantha Dye.

Contents 8

Foreword by Professor William (Bill) M Taylor




Foreword by Lisa Inger

16 18 22 28 38 50

Fine Arts VISA3050 Advanced Studio ARTF2021 Cinematic Spaces ARTF2040 Earth, Water, Air & Fire: Material Explorations in Environmental Art ARTF1054 Drawing Foundations ARTF1052 Fine Arts Studio: Record, Visualise & Imagine

62 64 68 72 76 80 86 92

History of Art HART4402 Writing Art History (Honours) HART3666 Australian and Aboriginal Art HART3361 The Dutch Golden Age and the Art of Exploration HART2370 Global Art Histories HART2207 Caravaggio and the Baroque HART2041 The Art of Photography HART1000 Great Moments in Art




Foreword by Samantha Dye

100 102 114 138 150 154 158

Architecture ARCT5502 Independent Design Research ARCT5101/5102 Architecture Studio ARCT5201/5202 Detailed Design Studio ARCT5521 Empowering Communities Through Design ARCT5583 Introduction to Architectural Conservation ARCT5595 Digital Design Journal

160 168 172 176 188 192 196

ARCT3000 Architecture Studio 3 ARCT3010 History and Theories of the Built Environment ARCT3050 Active Matter ARCT2000 Architecture Studio 2 ARCT2010 Parallel Modernities in Art and Architecture ARCT2030 Materials and Small Constructions ARCT1001 Architecture Studio 1

200 202 214

Architecture/Landscape Architecture ARLA1000 Design Studio - Groundings ARLA1040 Techniques of Visualisation

224 226 230 238 242 250 254

Landscape Architecture LACH5511 Independent Dissertation by Design Part 2 LACH5422 Design Studio - Making LACH4423 Landscape and Urban Ecology LACH3000 Landscape Synthesis Studio LACH2000 Landscape Context Studio LACH1010 History and Theory of Landscape Architecture

258 260

Urban Design URBD5804 Urban Design Studio 1

Foreword by Professor William (Bill) M Taylor ‘Cold comforts’ Welcome to the 2021 Winter Collection of student work from the School of Design. Winter can be a time of discontent or so Shakespeare wrote in the opening line of Richard III. John Steinbeck was so taken with the seasonal metaphor he appropriated The Winter of Our Discontent (1961) for the title of his last novel. The season of restlessness shadows the book’s main character who seeks former fortunes, but loses his moral compass as he flirts with fraud and theft to restore them. (The character’s son, a student, is also found to be a plagiarist and so the malaise spreads.) Exhibitions should dispel these and other darknesses. For me, the mid-year shows at the School’s Cullity Gallery have always held a special appeal. The lights emanating from the Gallery and the Hub seem brighter at exhibition time given the season’s shorter days. Through the glass doors Graeme Warburton can often be seen making final adjustments to the spotlights, a welcoming sign. Waiting in the newly swept and near empty galleries for the guests to arrive is a time to survey the work and take stock of what has come to pass. The Collection comes with the end of a long semester and passing of the winter solstice. The exhibition and online catalogue appear to erase any likely remnants of discontent, like our sighs of relief that followed the interruptions of two weeklong COVID lockdowns in Perth earlier this year. The first was imposed just before the start of term and the second arrived as major assignments were due. (Assignment extensions fell like trees in an ice-storm, one leading on to another.) Fears of an even longer withdrawal of face-to-face teaching were hardly dispelled by news of pandemic outbreaks in Sydney and Melbourne, COVID variants arriving from overseas (but not yet many of our international students and friends), and disappointment over the shemozzle of the vaccine rollout. Meanwhile, the gloom of yet further “structural” and cost-cutting reforms continue to hang over the University, like the leaden clouds of an English winter. Will this season give way to a time of optimism, as discontent is “made glorious summer” (Shakespeare) by the arrival of plentiful sunshine and promise shown by the creative energies and projects demonstrated here? Perhaps. Perhaps, though like most, if not all transformative periods, there is hope but also responsibility to insure we get the outcomes we need and want. Looking over the Collection of projects and taking stock of the past decade of changing tertiary and design education sectors, there are developments that offer hope, but also demand action to insure the best of our dreams are realised. We often hear that design entails a unique form of research, and it often can be, and should be. There is much evidence in the Collection of imaginative and thoughtful approaches to the preeminent challenges facing our communities and professions. However, as Mark Cousins wryly observed “At the moment anyone who expresses a mild curiosity in something, describes it as research. Anyone who reads up a number of books on something is thought to be engaged in a research project. And anyone who is paid 8

Image: “Photo shows Herr Hubold, with his newest means of propulsion in the water…” Berlin (1931). Author’s collection. 9

his or her bus fare to the library is thought to have won research funds.” This is to warn that more can always be done to insure our design ideas and projects are accountable, that they can pass the test(s) of time and informed scrutiny, as well as environmental sustainability and social justice. These are important measures of sound and responsible research. They are rarely encompassed by the acclaimed goals of “workplace relevance” and those tedious “change-managers” who commonly profit from fear and occupy the shadows of the unknown or indeterminate. The trend towards “precedent studies” promises to re-validate the learning of history, a requirement not only of professional accreditation guidelines, but also of moral judgment. These studies commonly reinvigorate the forms of typological understanding that has long shaped design education. A brief for a house can assert, more or less, that a “house” is not a “school” or “factory” for instance. These terms and distinctions are fine; one might say they are even necessary for architecture, landscape architecture and urban studies to have any kind of stature as knowledge. However, without due critical analysis or even a moment’s pause for reflection, the same distinctions can reinforce untenable patterns of habitation and miss opportunities for environmental and social renewal. The designer walks a narrow line here. History provides a range of precedents for elaborating on one or the other project brief. But then again, there are also, always, precedents for designing the most egregious abuses of nature and human rights. Urban sociologist David Brain observed that “Every design and planning decision is a value proposition, and a proposition that has to do with social and political relationships.” Seen in this light the projects in the Winter Collection have much to say. As the Finn Brothers wrote “Everywhere you go you always bring the weather with you” and so perhaps the most important thing confirmed by the Collection is that hard-work, perseverance and resilience are the necessary adjuncts of hope. At the same time, given the necessary balancing act between assertions of value and critical engagement with context (social, political and environmental – possibly others) we need to talk about integrity. This is a pressing concern so we can all, successfully—with thoughtfulness, honour and a sense of justice— confront the challenges of the day. Professor William (Bill) M Taylor, UWA School of Design



Fine Arts & History of Art

Image: First Floor Gallery, 2021 Winter Collective Exhibition opening night, 10 June 2021. Photography by Samantha Dye. 12


Foreword by Lisa Inger No one could have predicted the shift we have witnessed in humanity and global culture during 2020 and 2021. Art, as a reflection of culture, has highlighted the connectivity between individual and community. Through vast networks of communication and navigating commonalities, the world is experiencing and translating similar knowledge through diverse experiences in ways that are both familiar and entirely new. Art has changed, as it always does. As humans everywhere are left reeling from the effects of a global pandemic, the identity of being human has been pushed to the forefront of art, as we seek to know what it means to exist. People questioned their own morals as well as their futures. They sought out more information, more answers and more challenges while being limited, having to comply with rules that were a matter of life or death. During a global lockdown the world created more than ever. Thrust into solo projects, isolation elevated what one can create on one’s own. The use of technological art, without the weight of physicality, boomed as limitations dictated artistic exploration, ensuring connectivity and culture kept existing. Preservation of nature’s longevity saw inventive development of materiality in art as we reduced waste and treasured nature as being paramount to our survival of these catastrophic events. We would be remiss in using static analysis to preserve this art as a movement. In the same vein, discussing historical art has shifted; the lens, the privilege, the structures and the ethics of institutions are no longer aspects of art that are simply just accepted. The marrying together of these disputed systems alongside broader notions of humanity, has allowed for an evolution of compassion and anger to simultaneously disrupt and connect the world. A global culture has evolved, not through physical travel between countries, not through crowds and events, but through vulnerability, support and empathy. As arts students we are entirely subject to this shift, building the foundation of where we go from here. To us, this fluctuation is our jumping off point. These radical adjustments have set us on new paths or made our resolve in our chosen futures stronger. For the world looking in, the arts as it is made, managed and cared for, might appear to scramble in order to keep up. But for us, in the middle of the storm we persevere; art is necessary and it is important. Art lives and breathes outside of us, it reflects, inspects and digs between. It maintains its importance by adjusting and moving around barriers. It can break ill-suited structures; it can rebuild and it can time travel, with new lenses, to rethink old ideas. Art is not a function with an on/off switch, it cannot do and then undo. It does not care if you are ready or comfortable, it does not go away when things get hard. No amount of pressure can bend what cannot break, limitations only strengthen art and weaknesses work to reinforce it. Art remains, because humanity does. Lisa Inger, Bachelor of Arts (majoring in Art History) 2021


Image: Lisa Inger. 15

Fine Arts

Image: ARTF1052 & ARFT1054 displays, Cullity Gallery, 2021 Winter Collective Exhibition opening night, 10 June 2021. Photography by Samantha Dye 16


VISA3050 Advanced Studio Unit Coordinator: Paul Trinidad


‘Stranded - Beneath the Surface’ Taking form as a suspended dreadlock of hair hanging from a drain and encased in a clear acrylic plinth, Stranded - Beneath the Surface visually represents our bizarre relationship with hair. Most of us desire beautiful, thick life-long hair, we use it as an embellishment to our appearance. But what happens when it inevitably leaves our heads? We no longer want it, it’s suddenly disgusting and disturbing, more-so when it belongs to an unknown person. Why is it a surprise to find hair on a seat, in your food, or on a used hairbrush? We lose around 100 hairs a day, so it is more surprising that we only find maybe one or two of other people’s hair in our daily lives. Just think ... Where did you leave a hair today and how many people might find it? One of the only places you can guarantee an accumulation of loose hairs, is a shower drain. Wet, clumped hair is one of the most repulsive ways to discover hair, but don’t forget, they are the very exact hairs that we cared for, styled and were attached to before they made it down the drain. Yet, when we see those hairs get lifted out of the drain in a big, wet, matted mess, we do not want them back on our head. It is precisely this juxtaposing relationship that formed the intrigue into making this piece. Not only to recreate the scenario, but to recreate the feeling. Through compulsory confrontation from the 1.1m tall clear plinth, this structure exposes the darkest feelings towards our hair. The near metre long hair dread encased within this preservation-like plinth, allows the disregarded hair to be elevated once more – off the head and beneath the drain.

Image: Pahnia Ellison, Stranded – Beneath the Surface, acrylic sheet, shower drain, fishing wire, human hair, hairspray, 110 x 30 x 30 cm, 2021. 18


Image: Pahnia Ellison, Stranded – Beneath the Surface, acrylic sheet, shower drain, fishing wire, human hair, hairspray, 110 x 30 x 30 cm, 2021. 20



ARTF2021 Cinematic Spaces Unit Coordinator: Dr Vladimir Todorovic

SARAH Z SOULAY ‘Evopollution’

Music by Brandon Shier I really love the idea of unrefined, unpolished ‘trashy’ art. There is something really raw, beautiful and intriguing about it. I am also interested in human evolution, and our collective responsibility to look after the world was the core focus for this project. I really wanted to explore the evolution of humanity and our lack of interest or passion for our natural environment. We have let the Earth fall through the cracks for the good of advancement. However, if we stop, cultivate and preserve our world, new life will flourish. The most import aspect of this process was to make myself laugh. A really important goal was to accentuate my personal humour, especially in regards to the physical appearance of the animation. The message I want the viewer to take away from this video is to take joy out of the simple and unrefined nature of the work. To find inspiration in the whimsical animation and the plethora of throw away jokes from the title, to the credits – inspiring them to create art for the pure joy it brings.

Image: Sarah Z Soulay. Evopollution. Digital video, music by Brandon Shier. 23

ARTF2021 Cinematic Spaces Unit Coordinator: Dr Vladimir Todorovic

MICHAEL MAKOSSA ‘Self-appointed Sentinels’

The film offers a speculative journey, informed by observation of the behaviour of people with perceived authority on how others should live their lives. Sentinels are those among us, ‘chosen’ by duty, to perform the role of surveillance, while echoing political directives. This second project of a trilogy presents a series of scenarios as a sequential string of interconnected relationships.

Image: Michael Makossa. Self-Appointed Sentinels. Digital video. 24


Image: Michael Makossa. Self-Appointed Sentinels. Digital video. 26



ARTF2040 Earth, Water, Air & Fire: Material Explorations in Environmental Art Unit Coordinator: Michael Bianco


In a world of anthropocentric thinking, other creatures that are unable to express their existence are selectively ignored by us for their feelings. Just as we humans have our own five senses, plants have their own complex sensory systems too. Perhaps one day we will be able to communicate with plants and discover that they are also emotional beings. This will allow us to examine how human society treats the plants and whether moral and ethical regulations are affected. Learning to experience what it’s like to be underneath the soil before that happens is a start to understanding the ‘everyday life’ of plants.

Image: XuanCheng Liao. To Learn. Digital print. 59.4 x 84.1 cm. 29

ARTF2040 Earth, Water, Air & Fire: Material Explorations in Environmental Art Unit Coordinator: Michael Bianco

ELEONORA BRUSASCO ‘Repairing the land’

Our final portfolio involved choosing a material and a verb, and ‘listening’ to the material. I chose to re-earth clay as my verb as it led me down two paths, which I found interesting and engaging. Initially to sow, and then to sew. Using a verb as a starting point was interesting, and I do not think I would have thought of the concept of repairing the land (or clay forms in general) had I not sat with the verb re-earth for some time. The verb to sew engendered in me a feeling of wanting to give back, to replenish/repair the land (clay) in a sort of circular way. I was also influenced by Kintsugi. I needed to listen attentively to the clay while suturing it. Was the clay the right hardness/softness? Could I risk pushing the needle a little harder or would the clay break? I had to support the clay while it was sutured and could feel it suddenly give as the needle went through. Suture material also ‘speaks’ to you. For example, when you are tying the securing knot, you need to do this three times in alternating directions, which involves pulling the suture needle either towards or away from you (alternately). If you choose the wrong direction, the suture material lets you know as it forms awkward weird shapes and resists your tying efforts – until you realise your mistake and change direction by 180 degrees, and then it happily untangles itself and sits flat for you, allowing you to tie the knot. Also, as we observed (in class) in Nina Canell’s work, the two materials were interacting with one another, and I needed to listen to them individually, as well as together. I preferred repairing a ‘defect’/joining two edges rather than incising/excising parts of clay. The ‘land’ has red soil from the Wheatbelt in or on the clay.

Image: Eleonora Brusasco. Repairing the land I. 30


Image: Eleonora Brusasco. Repairing the land II. 32



ARTF2040 Earth, Water, Air & Fire: Material Explorations in Environmental Art Unit Coordinator: Michael Bianco

HUNTER SMITH ‘Ball of Rubbish’

With a focus on the materiality of acrylic house paint and its interaction with the vinyl surface of a 1960s window blind, this sculpture was largely borne from my desire to create a painting that could transcend the spatial and compositional limits of flat canvas. Sourced from local households through a suburb exchange economy (Buy Nothing, Sell Nothing), the artwork is made entirely from repurposed materials sculpted to imitate an all too familiar symbol of the wasted and discarded, a tossedoff ball of rubbish. The process began by observing peeled-off paint skins from past palettes which fascinated me as they exist both as fossils of past paintings and as artworks in their own right. These paint ‘skins’ informed the painting process of the final sculpture, in that the subject itself would be the acrylic paint rather than an image created using this medium. This, which could be called a kind of ‘listening’ to the material, allowed me to explore paint-pouring techniques that relied on the material itself to guide the process, so as the artist I poured the paint but the painter was not me. The sculpture, developed instinctively through manipulating the stiffness of the vinyl surface and its final imitation of a piece of crumpled trash, encapsulates the essence of the materiality and process, discarded and organically formed.

Image: Hunter Smith. Ball of Rubbish. Housepaint on vinyl window blind and thread. 83 x 94 x 38 cm. 35

Image: Hunter Smith. Ball of Rubbish. Housepaint on vinyl window blind and thread. 83 x 94 x 38 cm. 36



ARTF1054 Drawing Foundations Unit Coordinator: Andy Quilty Teaching Staff: Jo Darvall, Paul Trinidad & Dr Vladimir Todorovic

KITA HEALY ‘Progression’

Memories are a fundamental web that lie beneath every person, our experiences amalgamate to become our personalities, values and mannerisms. From a young age I adopted my grandfather’s iconic sense of humour, and still at the age of 19, the memories of him influence my identity today. Since my grandfather was initially diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, there has been a saddening loss of himself, his sight and more recently his humour. This work explores the effect on identity and the role that stolen memories play in self and relationships with others. Dementia slowly washes away what made someone human, leaving a fading imprint of who you know. As memories disappear, his form is altered, it becomes a challenge for my grandfather and I to grasp old memories for a reminder of the past. A traditional process of graphite on paper is slowly subverted in the third artwork, where graphite was sanded down to a powder and worked onto paper with blending stumps. The strokes of pencil start in an orderly fashion, while the works progressively become more static and unordered to mimic the atmosphere of nostalgia and tangible memories. Eventually, there is a mutual struggle to rely on finding identity purely through memories.

Image: Progression, pencil on Fabriano paper, 76 x 56 cm (each). 39

Image: Progression, pencil on Fabriano paper, 76 x 56 cm (each). 40


ARTF1054 Drawing Foundations Unit Coordinator: Andy Quilty Teaching Staff: Jo Darvall, Paul Trinidad & Dr Vladimir Todorovic

PHILLIP MCARTNEY ‘Dialectical Dilemma’

Existing and new conflict in this contemporary world ties to opposing belief structures held in individual perspectives. The term Dialectical Dilemma refers to the conflict of opposition in conscious thought, it highlights how conflict emerges between persons that hold antithetical values, beliefs and attitudes. If through perception, an absence of clarity exists between opposing belief structures – disharmony and conflict can result in social and/or cultural consequences. Issues of social division and segregation were contextually tied to my individual relapse and phases of rehabilitation. Through stages of recovery, I grew in comprehension of how conflict and barriers to resolution were tied to antithetical belief structures. Guided by memory and emotion I manipulated lines and a variety of marks to visualise contrasting perspectives and belief structures and highlight aspects of cultural and social division.

Image: Dialectical Dilemma (internal and external influences, conflict and consciousness), ink and charcoal on paper, 21 x 15 cm (each). 42


Image: Dialectical Dilemma (internal and external influences, conflict and consciousness), ink and charcoal on paper, 21 x 15 cm (each). 44



ARTF1054 Drawing Foundations Unit Coordinator: Andy Quilty Teaching Staff: Jo Darvall, Paul Trinidad & Dr Vladimir Todorovic


Making marks on surfaces can fill me with a degree of anxious over-thinking, to combat this challenge I decided to place the canvas over my eyes. Depriving myself of any visual stimuli and relying on the sense of touch. I began observing my elevated emotional response to sitting there in that mask. The most immediate realisation is just how featureless and blank my face had become, constricted and compressed by the tight white material. Slowly, I rebuilt these lost features with pencil, charcoal, and ink, the marks reflecting the memory of my own visual characteristics as well as reacting to the sensory experience. This surgery spent equal time between the anatomical and the emotional, with portions of the canvas covered in repeating patterns or scribbled mistakes. I documented the process intermittently by taking minimalistic black and white portrait photos of the mask in the gradual stages of mark-making, and after two-hours I finally removed the mask. The result of the exercise was a series of images, which in my mind depict the gradual construction of some familiar visage, with bones, sinew, and muscle added in sequence. For me, the mask had become some sort of latent image, an imperfect print of self-reflection or identity, decayed and consumed. This sentiment lead to the work’s title GHOUL and influenced the chosen three images as the final composition.

Image: GHOUL, digital photographic print, 59.4 x 84.1 cm (each). 47

Image: GHOUL, digital photographic print, 59.4 x 84.1 cm (each). 48


ARTF1052 Fine Arts Studio: Record, Visualise & Imagine Unit Coordinator: Sarah Douglas


Life Cycle discusses the relationship between humans and nature, the range and complexity of the human experience and the beauty in growth and history. Informed by my chosen space, a heavily used and cluttered shed represented a place of storage, building and creativity – a collection of memories. In the form of wood slices straight from a log, this non-traditional canvas acts as a tribute to the essence of my space, a place of work with a visible history of crafting and growth. It was important that I, too, created and crafted this artwork, allowing the viewer within the space of my creation. Circles are a ubiquitous shape found throughout the natural and artificial world. Not only is their form alluring and practical in the artificial world, it can also hold deeper symbolic meaning in organic life. As discovered, one of the more fascinating places these symbolic shapes are found is in the cross-section of a tree trunk. Synonymous with the denotation of its natural rings and communicated by the colourful concentric rings superimposed over the top, my work personifies this visible history of growth while creatively imitating this phenomenon. The varying thicknesses and colour of each ring can be understood to mimic the visible seasonal effects of an aged tree, or alternatively a human. This and the visible undulating cracks and marks of life, accompanied by preconceived ideas around the symbolism of the circular shape, also represent the diverse range of the human experience, appreciating and re-implanting life back into this once-living organism, while paying homage to the circle of life.

Image: Chanae Dunstan. Life Cycle. Oil on wood. 50


Image: Chanae Dunstan. Life Cycle. Oil on wood. 52



ARTF1052 Fine Arts Studio: Record, Visualise & Imagine Unit Coordinator: Sarah Douglas

AIDAN BOWDEN ‘Gaze Within’

Gaze Within is an evolution of sorts. More than the sum of its parts, the complex reflective 3D structure began its life as a short series of landscape photos which were digitally layered, blended, edited and reformatted with one philosophy dictating every action: ‘there is no undo button’. By only allowing the creative process to move forward, the developing lines and shapes were afforded the freedom to become something entirely individual from the source material, and, by translating the results into a 3D space, the fragmented journey of the piece was reflected in form. A topography emerged with mountainous peaks reflecting snowy caps, neon plateaus leading to jagged coastlines, and a spatial void dotted with metallic islands. While these scenes are divorced from the landscape photos from which they were conceived, the surprising genealogy of the work challenges the extent that we allow our creative processes to dictate artistic direction.

Image: Aidan Bowden. GAZE WITHIN. Digital print. 55

Image: Aidan Bowden. GAZE WITHIN. Digital print. 56


ARTF1052 Fine Arts Studio: Record, Visualise & Imagine Unit Coordinator: Sarah Douglas


‘Holding Space / Space Holding’ Holding Space / Space Holding is a reflection of light and feeling funnelled through bedroom walls. It does not focus on the physical but rather on energy that can be utilised in order to create space to show up as we are to reflect or heal. The colours yellow and pale blue are significant as they represent different states of being, feelings of being held and familiarity of self. The motif of the orb is a representation of the way that energy hovers in a space creating warmth and vibration. I used it as a means to signify an extension of self, an invisible tint left intentionally that can be felt without being seen. Poetry was an integral part of every stage of the project development, the written work began as love notes to different parts of my bedroom that felt unloved and underappreciated. As I wrote more, I realised I was in fact writing to myself, using the space to communicate tender messages. Utilising my space in this way is not only meditative but also a means to self-sooth and foster self-acceptance. My work attempts to record the ability each of us have to hold and support ourselves independently and with care.

Image: Indira Edwards. Holding Space / Space Holding. Acrylic, turmeric and ink on calico. 100 x 80cm. 58


Image: Indira Edwards. Holding Space / Space Holding. Acrylic, turmeric and ink on calico. 100 x 80cm. 60


History of Art

Image: HART3361 The Dutch Golden Age and the Art of Exploration student visit to the Special Collections at Reid Library, 15 April 2021. 62


HART4402 Writing Art History (Honours) Unit Coordinator: Dr Emily Eastgate Brink


‘The Trouble with Hybrid Art: What’s in a Suit?’ Rushing through New York’s Grand Central Station, it would be particularly hard to miss 30 technicolour horses, dancing to the sound of a beating drum. For a week in March, 2013, a herd of rustling raffia horses performed in the middle of the Beaux Arts terminal, a noticeable shift from the typical urban sounds of monotonous chatter and rushing feet.1 Part performance, part sculpture, part art installation, Nick Cave’s Heard NY, transformed this urban location into a fantasy dream-scape. Collaborating with dancers from the Alvin Ailey School, Cave and 60 other students donned the wearable art forms, he calls soundsuits, in creating this whimsical scene. These over-the-top fashion forms are commonly described as “suits of armour;”2 encompassing the wearer’s entire body in bright colours and densely arranged embellishments, ranging from sequins to buttons and toys. Simultaneously concealing the wearer’s identity and displaying unique extravagance, soundsuits protect the wearer by disrupting the body’s identity markers: race, gender, class, and sexual orientation.3 Objects of imagination, these curious works are predominately exhibited as sculptures, riots of colour contrasting spectacularly with the white walls of the gallery. Likewise, these institutions designate soundsuits to departments of ‘painting and sculpture’,4 appearing to ignore the wearable aspect of this art. Straddling the border between sculpture and performance art, Cave’s soundsuits attempt to navigate the obscure domain of ‘hybrid art’. 64

Certainly, there are arguments for both traditional classifications. Cave has created nonwearable suits, functioning only as sculpture; however, performance remains integral to their meaning, giving the works life and eliciting sound.5 Cave’s interdisciplinary practice complicates current categorical space, proving the soundsuit difficult to capture and document in entirety. Object and action, is the soundsuit a sculpture, performance, or something else entirely? And, in the wake of hybrid art, can current forms of documentation facilitate this complex classification? This essay questions the soundsuit’s existence as a form of sculpture, performance, as well as hybrid art, and assesses the realities of categorisation in an art world struggling to contend with contemporary art. Soundsuit: The Origin Story An artist and dancer, Cave is no stranger to textiles and performance. Hence, the interdisciplinarity of Cave’s soundsuits should come as no surprise;6 combining disciplines in his creation of the sculptural and kinetic identities, now intrinsic to soundsuits. However, contrary to the loud riots of colour soundsuits epitomise now, their origins are significantly more sombre and political. Creating his first suit in 1992 out of densely packed sticks and twigs, Soundsuit reflects outrage around the beating of Rodney King, 30 years ago. An attempt to process the trauma generated by this event and subsequent lived experience as a black male in America,7 Soundsuit became an emblem of protest and protection. In a personal account, Cave recalls the amount of force needed to crush King –“It took six men to bring him down.”8 Later on, sitting in a park, the same ground on which King had lay, Cave began to collect twigs.9 Initially creating a sculpture, this form was wholly established by the choice of material. “It is that kind

Image: Nick Cave, Heard NY, 2013, live performance at New York’s Grand Central Terminal.

“Through performance these suits encourage community engagement and participation, opening up the meaning of soundsuits to the public.”


of object that determines how the rest of the piece is going to be…handled.”10 Putting on the suit, Cave discovered that movement produced sound. Encompassing the body, hiding the wearer’s identity, the significance of the soundsuit was conceived. Key, the production of sound: “Like a coat of armour, they [soundsuits] embellish the body while protecting the wearer from outside culture…in order to protest, you have to be heard…”11 In this fundamental work, twigs become indicative of strength and power. Appearing dull from afar, the suit succumbs to the inherent flatness of wood, instead relying on texture to entice the viewer. The dense arrangement of sticks, although soft to the eye, enhance the imposing stature of this silhouette. Undeniably reminiscent of body armour, one would struggle to discover who, or what, was hidden within. The defensive appearance of the suit mirrors the overarching intentions of Cave: “[soundsuits] hide gender, race, class…and they force you to look at the work without judgement.”12 Thereby offering minority lives a creative way to interact with the world outside of rigid societal expectations.13 The racially charged inception of this series – and Cave’s own identity as a black, gay man of working-class roots – has seen commentary on his artistic practice overwhelmingly skewed towards gender and race studies.14 This specific blindness in literature – or tunnel vision – is frequent, art historian Darby English suggests that these racebased readings of art only perpetuate ideas of segregation, the rigid concept of “black art” remaining untouched for over a hundred years.15 Unquestionably, the reading of race and sexuality into Cave’s art limits the soundsuit to Cave’s identity, inhibiting more diverse, community-based interpretations – thus impeding on discussions concerning performance. To Cave, soundsuits 66

appear to refer to more than his own identity: “When I go into the studio I’m not creating Black Art . . . it’s not a racial issue. I deal with that when I leave my studio and walk into the street. When you step outside of the studio, that’s where all that prejudice and bias come to play.”16 However, this is not to say that lived experience does not play a part at all: “My work is generated from being a black male in America. Black men are taken for granted and considered disposable and as a result the materials I use are insignificant. They fuel my artistic statements and speak about intrinsic value – how my identity is perceived in society.”17 While there undeniably exists a reason to talk about the politics behind these suits, it is unwise to say that it is all they are – particularly as Cave utilises these works as a means of collaboration. Through performance these suits encourage community engagement and participation, opening up the meaning of soundsuits to the public. Perhaps lost in the current literature on Cave’s work is this idea that soundsuits respond to every body. They no longer exist only as vehicles of minority protection. Soundsuits facilitate connection, collaboration and creativity. To see them purely as indicators of marginalisation risks losing the complexity of meaning that resides behind the fabric. Endnotes 1. Ann Binlot, “Nick Cave’s Heard Dances Through Grand Central Station,” Interview Magazine, 27 Mar, 2013. 2. Em Mulhall, “The Colorful and The Queer: A Look at Role of Queer Theory and Philosophy in Nick Cave’s Soundsuits” (Master Thesis, University of South Dakota, 2018), 1. (‘The Colorful and The Queer’). 3. Jeremy Saya, “Nick Cave, Feat,” The Senses and Society, 15, no. 1 (2020): 124.




7. 8. 9. 10. 11.

12. 13. 14.

15. 16. 17.

Tracy Stonestreet, “Breaching the Document/ Artwork Divide: Performance, Hybrid Artworks, and the Lingering Problem of Categorization,” Art Documentation: Journal of the Art Libraries Society of North America, 39, no. 2 (2020): 144-145. (‘Breaching the Document/Artwork Divide’). The ‘sound’ in soundsuit referring to the noise generated through movement. Cave stating: “the moment I put it [soundsuit] on, there was sound.” In this sense, performance and movement generates another level of meaning in regards to the work. Something impossible through static gallery forms. See Peter Erickson, “Meet Me at the Center of the Earth by Nick Cave (review),” Journal of Contemporary African Art, no. 31 (2012): 149-150. James Sanders, “Fiercely Exuberant Extravagances: Queerly Reading Nick Cave’s Soundsuits, Installations, and Interventions,” in Bridging Communities Through Socially Engaged Art, eds. Alice Wexler and Vida Sabbaghi (New York: Routledge, 2019), 183. James Sanders, “Nick Cave: Soundsuit Serenade,” Journal of Gay & Lesbian Issues in Education, 4, no. 1 (2006): 5. Saya, “Nick Cave, Feat,” 121. Erickson, “Meet Me at the Center of the Earth by Nick Cave (review),” 149. “Meet The Artist: Nick Cave on ‘Soundsuit’,” YouTube Video, 4:53, posted by “Smithsonian American Art Museum,” January 2018,, 3:07-3:17. Andrew Alexander, “PERFORMANCE ART: Cave’s work suits Atlanta: His crowd-pleasing soundsuits will spice up Ponce City Market,” The Atlanta Journal – Constitution; Atlanta, Ga, Apr 19, 2015. “Nick Cave: Thick Skin | Art21 “Extended Play,” YouTube Video, 2:48, posted by “Art21,” October 2016, https://youtu. be/S6cG5wYxRcw, 2:08 - 2:18. Mulhall, “The Colorful and The Queer,” 8. James Sanders describing him as: “A gay bodybuilding Black tenured Associate Professor and Chairman of the Fashion Department at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.” In Sanders, “Nick Cave: Soundsuit Serenade,” 6. Darby English, How to See a Work of Art in Total Darkness (Cambridge, Massachusetts: The MIT Press, 2007), 7-8+11. Nick Cave in James Sanders, “Panel discussion transcript,” in Cultural Foundations (Winston-Salem, North Carolina: S.E. Surface Design Association Conference, 1992): 14. Nick Cave in Karen Searle, “Nick Cave: Disguise and camouflage,” Ornament, 17, no. 3 (1994): 41.


HART3666 Australian and Aboriginal Art Unit Coordinator: Dr Darren Jorgensen


‘Works of an Appropriated Identity: Elizabeth Durack and the Commodification of Aboriginality ’ As native title played itself in the High Court of Australia during the 1990s, a well-known Western Australian artist, Elizabeth Durack CMG, OBE had begun producing a dramatic new series of “morphological works”. The well-educated and privileged daughter of Kimberly cattle baron Michael Patrick Durack was in the sixth decade of her long career. Durack had spent significant periods of her childhood and later life throughout northern Western Australia, there she developed a close relationship with many Aboriginal people and communities and was an active promoter of their art. Her daughter, Perpetua Durack, was the owner of a successful gallery in Broome, which represented a number of emerging, local indigenous artists. Aboriginal subjects, stories, and motifs had been key themes of Durack’s work, which had established her a significant and critical following as demonstrated with her almost unparalleled number of solo and group exhibitions for a mid-century Australian woman artist. Her later career was set against the backdrop of the emerging gallery dominance of Aboriginal artists starting with the Papunya-Tula school. The upsurge in the gallery representation of indigenous artists almost certainly contributed to the increasing limitations on her critical success, which were becoming evident from the 1980s onwards. Durack, to achieve greater recognition for her works, made the decision to disguise her identity and present her new series of “morphological works” under the nom68

de-plume of Eddie Burrup, initially only inviting her daughter Perpetua into the conspiracy. Burrup was a fictitious Aboriginal elder from the north-west of Western Australia, the details of his life were invented by Durack who wove the experiences of different Aboriginal men she had met into a coherent narrative, which was given cover and legitimacy by her daughter’s gallery. Durack unveiled her deception of the Australian art world publicly by inviting art historian and curator Robert Smith to her studio where she disclosed the details of her relationship to Eddie Burrup, captured in his 1997 article for Art Monthly Australia, which caused a sensational stir. This, however, was done only after Eddie Burrup had received significant appraisal and was exhibited in the 1996 show Native Titled Now and the Telstra National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Art Award in Darwin the same year. By the time of Smith’s article, Durack/Burrup’s works had been bought, collected, and hung in Aboriginal sections of public and private collections. The response was a mixture of public outcry, as well as a measured defence of the artist’s intentions. One of the effects of these revelations was Burrup’s works being taken down from certain gallery walls. Durack, however, was undeterred and kept painting as Burrup until her death in 2000 at the age of 84. The relationship between the artist, persona, works, and reception are complex and insightful for understanding some of the contemporary issues in the Australian artworld as well as its broader implications in a post-colonial country. In order to personalise the paintings and bring Burrup’s voice to bear, Durack wrote descriptions of the paintings in Kriol: “Well, that t’ last time for olden day mob / where ’e meet up b’la bubbawilli pool - / Allabout ‘e reckon ‘im only dust now - / only heavy mud b’la wet weather time... / Die out now – finish altogether.”

Image: Elizabeth Durack (Eddie Burrup), In the Beginning . . . (Genesis 1), 1997. Each panel 190 x 92 cm.


This was accompanied by an artist’s note describing the impacts of pastoral industries, in particular the cattle industry, had on the landscape in the century after first settlement. The representation of this story of extinction and the passage of time through petroglyph-like paintings has the effect of overcoming temporal differences by uniting the ancient Aboriginal art from the precolonisation period with the works of a (fictitious) indigenous elder speaking with ‘authority’ about the environmental impacts of settlement on the landscape, wildlife and ultimately his cultural and spiritual connection to country. In The Coming of Gudea (1997), Durack elaborates on this theme by using spatial metaphors for separation. This is achieved through the expanse of ‘negative’ white space in the centre of the diptych, with the creatures’ momentum directed to the edge of the scene. “Gudea” is the Kriol word Durack uses to talk about white settlers, an excerpt from this painting’s title describes how the “Gudea ‘e comin’ up from south / an’ ‘e move allalong.” It is ironic that in her 83rd year, Durack is speaking with the invented voice of an aboriginal elder about the impact pastoralists, like herself and her family, have had on the wellbeing of the environment and Aboriginal people. Even after Durack exposed herself as being Eddie Burrup, she maintained that she had a close connection to the fictitious man. It is hard to deduce from her writings her exact categorisation of him as she variously describes him externally, in third person, as well as presenting him as a sort of internal “alter ego”. As her own writing around the time Burrup was invented shows, her appropriation of this indigenous identity was a choice, in order to recast her works as ‘authentic’ rather than just an interesting product from a career built off appropriation. Durack created Burrup to expand her works’ gallery representation and to profit off 70

spaces she was denied access because of her position of relative privilege. The homesteads that were built upon indigenous land, such as Ivanhoe and Argyle Downs by the Durack family, constitute an assertion of dominance upon indigenous people and their customs, as recognised by Durack, as Burrup, in The Last Meeting (1997). Due to the implementation of state policies of assimilation, many Aboriginal people were denied access to protected cultural spaces and their voices were pushed to the remote margins of white society. The often-separated spaces for the exhibition of indigenous art works reflect both sides of a movement to exoticize indigenous artistic production as well as reclaim spaces for its exhibition and consumption. While native title as a system has proven to be demonstrably inadequate to provide for economic justice, land rights, and reconciliation it is a system that has been born out of the struggle of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Australians for generations. Burrup’s voice allows Durack to assume the mantle of the ‘authentic’ Aboriginal, criticising the efforts of urban and ‘half-caste’ Aboriginals. It is not difficult to understand Durack’s disappointment in being overshadowed by Aboriginal artists and her exclusion from a section of the Australian art world on the basis of her identity. When this personified appropriation is put in the context of how much Durack’s class stands to lose with the expansion of native title in pastoral areas, her motives can be easier understood. Elizabeth Durack’s exclusion from what she saw as her, and her work’s, rightful place in art galleries was predicated on her position of privilege in a postcolonial society. The reclamation of pastoral land by its traditional owners must have been equally frustrating and anxiety inducing for someone whose class status was dependent upon it.

This final chapter in Elizabeth Durack’s career has a complex legacy that is still playing out in discussions around the relationship of Aboriginal art to white Australia. Neither the elements of her paintings or their overall style can be considered definitively appropriative as they can be read as references to her earlier works and to the ancient petroglyphs of the Burrup peninsula. Nor can they be considered forgery as they represent the real, original, and unique expressions from her own hands. Durack, however, appropriates an Aboriginal identity, which is something more egregious. In many ways the works of Eddie Burrup are an example of personified appropriation. This led her to being granted access and a platform within indigenous spaces such as the National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Art Award. Doreen Mellor, the indigenous curator of Native Titled Now wrote that Durack’s entrance into the exhibition “show(s) what Aboriginal artists and people feel about native title” and called it an “enormous betrayal.” Perpetua Durack Clancy, her daughter and the gallery owner who presented the works of Burrup to the world, defends her mother’s appropriation as a “calculated risk” that was done so the works could be noticed for “their intrinsic worth.” This evaluation could have merit if the works were only to be viewed on the formal level of appropriation, however, Burrup’s works, identity, and persona are directly political. Their initial success and subsequent removal from the walls of art galleries demonstrates the importance of identity in the Australian and Aboriginal art world. When Burrup’s works were “Aboriginal” art they were successful, when they were revealed as merely “Australian” art they were reviled by most because of the deception and her colonisation of indigenous gallery spaces. “Aboriginal” art suffers in the same way as all art in a capitalist market, if not more so, by becoming commodities to be

bought, sold, and collected on reputation rather than form. Elizabeth Durack’s (in)famous example is a clear illustration of this, and despite her later comments that Burrup was working “in unity” with her, it is a vindication of the rejection she felt as a white artist who painted in an “indigenous” style for most of her life. Eddie Burrup was the avatar and expression of Elizabeth Durack’s entitlement and patriarchal attitude she could never really shake as a member of the squattocracy.


HART3361 The Dutch Golden Age and the Art of Exploration Unit Coordinator: Arvi Wattel


‘Catalogue Entry: Dutch Trading Ship in Japanese Waters’ Japanese byōbu (folding screens)1 are free standing walls, generally made of paper or silk on a wooden frame, designed to serve as room partitions, as well as large horizontal canvases for painting.2 Today, nanban3 byōbu, including the screen Dutch Trading Ship in Japanese Waters, provide visual examples of the Japanese-European cross-cultural interaction that took place over the sixteenth to nineteenth centuries. Dutch Trading Ship in Japanese Waters is a watercolour, ink and gold, four panel folding screen depicting the arrival of a Dutch trade ship in Japanese waters. Read from right to left, the scene, painted in delicate colours of predominantly gold, blue,4 red and white, includes a group of animated figures in bright garments conversing on a shoreline of sharp cliffs, as the Dutch ship, identifiable by its national flag, approaches from the right side of the screen. A symmetrical composition, the visual weight is evenly distributed, with the ship on the right balanced by cliffs rising to the central plane of the image on the left. Blue clouds float above the landscape on a background of either painted gold or gold leaf.5 Use of perspective is limited, with no focal point in the piece, and the brush strokes are loose. Texture and dimension are created through thick layering of the paint, as seen in the wave froth around the ship and the cherry blossom in the lower right-hand corner of the frame. Currently part of the private Perth-based collection of Mr Kerry Stokes, the 72

screen’s provenance is unknown, however it has featured in an art exhibition in Australia in 2015 and 2016, as well as a special lecture series at UWA in conjunction with the exhibition.6 The condition of the object suggests a life of minimal conservation, as there is damage to the screen, particularly on the gold, and faded, dull colouring. The condition, and lack of documented history, points to it perhaps previously having been part of undocumented private collections. There is no known artist for the piece, however this is not uncommon, as for many remaining byōbu the artist is not known.7 The work itself is similar to other screens of the period, with sumikanagu (metal corners and embossing) attached to the outside of the painted wooden frame and the painting limited to one side, with decorated paper on the other. The brocade edge is also a traditional feature of nanban screens.8 The size of the Trading Ship screen is noteworthy, as it stands at a height of 67.5cms. Generally, folding screens measure no less than 90cms, tall enough to serve as room dividers.9 This suggests that the screen was intended for decorative use as opposed to a practical purpose, perhaps as a commemorative piece on Japanese trade and interaction with the Dutch. Supporting this is the fact that the screen was painted in the 1870s when the unique Dutch/ Japanese trading relationship was coming to an end with the reopening of Japan to the West.10 Items such as nanban screens were being exported from Japan to the Western market on a large scale.11 The Trading Ship is a hybrid piece, including Portuguese as well as Dutch elements. It provides a visual history of the cross-cultural interactions and encounters that took place between the arrival of the Portuguese to Japan in the mid sixteenth century, and the popularity of ‘Japonisme’ dominant in the West during the late nineteenth century.12

Image: Artist unknown (Japan). Dutch Trading Ships in Japanese Waters. C. 1870. Four-panel screen, watercolour, ink and gold on paper. 67.5 x 138 x 11 cm. Kerry Stokes Collection, Perth.

The Portuguese were the first Europeans to establish a base in Japan, mainly for trade and missionary purposes, and they were followed by the arrival of the Dutch in 1600. The Japanese were open to trade with the Dutch, as they had come to resent the Catholic Portuguese missionizing attempts. By 1609, the Dutch had commenced official trade relations with Japan.13 These trade relations continued through Japan’s period of sakoku, national isolation from the rest of the world, which lasted from 1641 until the forced opening of Japan’s borders in 1853. The Dutch trading outpost provided Japan’s sole contact with the Western world, and Japanese fascination with the Dutch is seen in nanban art from this period.14 Japanese artworks depicting Dutch ships, among other things, were sold as souvenirs and usually commissioned by an upper-class market.15 The Trading Ship screen,

like many others of the period, provides a model of the way in which foreigners were viewed by the Japanese. It represents not only the Dutch, but also the Portuguese, and is an example of the Japanese concept of tojin, the ‘other’.16 Nanban screens that survive from the sixteenth to mid-nineteenth centuries regularly depict elaborately dressed foreigners in ships departing foreign ports or arriving in Japan.17 Often, the artists themselves had never seen the individuals they were painting, due to location and the national seclusion, resulting in a stereotypical depiction of tojin. This concept of the ‘other’ came to encompass all outsiders, including the Dutch and the Portuguese, and foreigners were represented in elaborate hats, frilled collars, boots, trousers and beards or moustaches. This outfit was no doubt inspired by the Portuguese, who were the first Europeans to make contact 73

and travel around Japan. However, elements of this outfit can be found in most depictions of tojin, and were used by artists to emphasise the otherness of Europeans.18 This stereotype is seen in many nanban screens, including the Trading Ship, as well as others such as the Arrival of the Europeans in the Met museum.19 The figures in the Trading Ship screen have pale skin, brown hair and moustaches, and are wearing colourful outfits, with loose-fitting trousers and domed hats, all of which are typical elements in depictions of tojin, but especially in Japanese portrayals of the Portuguese.20 The depiction of Dutchmen included such elements, but they were more often portrayed with bright red hair and darker clothing,21 which is not present in the figures in the Trading Ship. The strange hybridity between Portuguese figures and the Dutch ship in the screen make it difficult to characterise. It suggests that it is either a portrayal of Dutchmen arriving in Japan, with the depiction of the Dutch done by an artist who only knew the typical, Portuguese-influenced portrayal of the tojin. Alternatively, it is a commemorative piece, intended perhaps to reflect on the trade relations between Europe and Japan prior to Japan’s reopening to the international market, and possibly to sell to a Western buyer. This would align with the later date of production, as it was around this time that Japanese art and objects found a Western audience.22 Items such as screens became increasingly available to customers in Europe from the mid-nineteenth century onwards.23 In books for the European market, Japanese prints included depictions of voyages by Westerners.24 Therefore, it is possible that the Dutch Trading Ship in Japanese Waters, produced in Japan in the 1870s, was intended to commemorate the voyages of Europeans to Japan, in a bid to 74

appeal to the growing European market. Either way, the uniqueness of the screen, with its smaller than usual size, and the inclusion of both the Portuguese and the Dutch elements, render it an important piece in understanding global trade of the nineteenth century, and also provide a window into the cross-cultural interactions that occurred to produce the Japanese concept of tojin. Endnotes 1. Sandra Grantham, “Japanese Painted Paper Screens: Manufacturing Materials and Painting Techniques,” Supplement, Studies in Conservation, 47, no. S3 (2002): 84, DOI:10.1179/sic.2002.47.s3.017. 2. Grantham, “Japanese Painted Paper Screens,” 83; Japanese Art Society of America, “Supplement: Exhibition Labels: Designed for Pleasure: The World of Edo Japan in Prints and Paintings, 1680-1860,” Impressions, no. 30 (2009): 161, http:// 3. Naban/namban (“southern barbarians”) refers to foreigners that came to Japan from the southern sea - Thomas DaCosta Kaufmann, “Interpreting Cultural Transfer and the Consequences of Markets and Exchange: Reconsidering Fumi-e,” in Artistic and Cultural Exchanges Between Europe and Asia, 1400-1900, ed. Michael North (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2010), 137. 4. Prussian, or Berlin blue in Japanese art was introduced in the 19th century from the West, and rapidly entered popular use Grantham, “Japanese Painted Paper Screens,” 85, 86. 5. Grantham, “Japanese Painted Paper Screens,” 83; Henry P. Bowie, “On the Laws of Japanese Painting,” (Paul Elder and Company Publishers, 1911; Project Gutenberg, 2011), 37, 6.; lectures/treasureships. 7. Nicole Coolidge Rousmaniere, “Visions of the ‘Other’ in Seventeenth Century Japanese Fuzoku-ga,” Philosophy, no. 95 (1993): 140, 8. Grantham, “Japanese Painted Paper Screens,” 84. 9. Grantham, “Japanese Painted Paper Screens,” 84. 10. Paul Doolan, “The Dutch in Japan,” History Today, 50, no. 4 (2000): 36-39, ProQuest. 11. Kaufmann, “Interpreting Cultural Transfer,” 136-140. 12. Toshio Watanabe, “The Western Image of Japanese Art in the Late Edo Period,” Modern Asian Studies, 18, no. 4 (1984): 668, 13. Doolan, “The Dutch in Japan,” 36. 14. Doolan, “The Dutch in Japan,” 37.

15. Doolan, “The Dutch in Japan,” 38; “Exhibition Labels: Designed for Pleasure,” 168. 16. Keiko Suzuki, “The Making of Tōjin Construction of the Other in Early Modern Japan,” Asian Folklore Studies, 66, no. 1/2 (2007): 93, 17. Clement Onn, “Circulating Art and Visual Hybridity: CrossCultural Exchanges Between Portugal, Japan, and Spain,” Renaissance Studies, 34, no. 4 (2019): 627, DOI:10.1111/ rest.12592; Rousmaniere, “Visions of the ‘Other’,” 140. 18. Suzuki, “The Making of Tōjin,” 94. 19. 20. Suzuki, “The Making of Tōjin,” 99. 21. Suzuki, “The Making of Tōjin,” 96. 22. Watanabe, “The Western Image of Japanese Art,” 668. 23. Watanabe, “The Western Image of Japanese Art,” 670, 671. 24. Watanabe, “The Western Image of Japanese Art,” 674. Bibliography Bowie, Henry P. “On the Laws of Japanese Painting.” Paul Elder and Company Publishers, 1911; Project Gutenberg, 2011. DaCosta Kaufmann, Thomas. “Interpreting Cultural Transfer and the Consequences of Markets and Exchange: Reconsidering Fumi-e.” In Artistic and Cultural Exchanges Between Europe and Asia, 1400-1900, edited by Michael North, 135-161. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2010. Doolan, Paul. “The Dutch in Japan.” History Today, 50, no. 4 (2000): 36-42. ProQuest. Grantham, Sandra. “Japanese Painted Paper Screens: Manufacturing Materials and Painting Techniques.” Supplement, Studies in Conservation, 47, no. S3 (2002): 8387. DOI:10.1179/sic.2002.47.s3.017. Japanese Art Society of America. “Supplement: Exhibition Labels: Designed for Pleasure: The World of Edo Japan in Prints and Paintings, 1680-1860.” Impressions, no. 30 (2009): 168-203. Onn, Clement. “Circulating Art and Visual Hybridity: CrossCultural Exchanges Between Portugal, Japan, and Spain.” Renaissance Studies, 34, no. 4 (2019): 624-649. DOI:10.1111/ rest.12592. Rousmaniere, Nicole Coolidge. “Visions of the ‘Other’ in Seventeenth Century Japanese Fuzoku-ga.” Philosophy, no. 95 (1993): 137-152. pdf/145729858.pdf. Suzuki, Keiko. “The Making of Tōjin Construction of the Other in Early Modern Japan.” Asian Folklore Studies, 66, no. 1/2 (2007): 83-105. Watanabe, Toshio. “The Western Image of Japanese Art in the Late Edo Period.” Modern Asian Studies, 18, no. 4 (1984): 667-684.


HART2370 Global Art Histories Unit Coordinator: Arvi Wattel


‘Redefining Canonicity through Transcultural Objects’ The term ‘art canon’ denotes an accepted timeline of artists whose works are regarded as exemplary standards deemed to hold significant cultural and aesthetic importance.1 The canonisation of art invariably constructs a contentious partisan structure that privileges select values regarding aestheticism, ideology, and culture. Seal with knob in the shape of a wheel (1424) is an ivory seal commissioned for Lama Yeshi Zangbu, a Tibetan monk, during Emperor Yongle’s reign (1403-1424) in Ming Dynasty China (1368-1644); the seal is a transcultural object that combines Chinese artistic practice with Buddhist iconography. This seal should be incorporated into art history canon as an object that can support the expansion of a globalised art history by demonstrating how objects formerly excluded for being ‘other’ can fulfil the conventional requirements for canonicity. This will equalise the imbalanced power dynamic that is systemically propagated by highly partisan mechanisms of canon formation. The Yongle Emperor rose to power through usurpation and undertook proactive measures throughout his reign to consolidate his rule and prevent insurgency. To establish himself as a purveyor of order and harmony, Yongle fused the three dominant religions of Ming China (Buddhism, Confucianism, and Taoism) into a single ideology.2 He emphasised the common elements between all three religions and invested in the large-scale production of Buddhist art and literature as 76

propaganda, which he disseminated to the illiterate and uneducated masses.3 The domestic Buddhist material he commissioned was, in actuality, an amalgamation of the three faiths intended to be palatable to the Chinese psyche.4 The Emperor also adopted a magnanimous foreign policy to gain foreign recognition of his right to rule; this approach is evidenced by the consistent commissioning of culturally hybrid works throughout his emperorship. The large quantities of Buddhist-themed works created during his rule are the most visually apparent evidence of these transcultural products. Seal with knob in the shape of a wheel is carved from ivory, a material that was present in Ming China through trade with Africa and South East Asia. Ivory was considered a valuable material due to its rarity and associations with exoticism. Ivory, being a dentine product, exhibits watertight properties that render it a highly suitable material from which to create seals as the inking material used for stamping Chinese seals, red seal paste, is a moist substance created from crushed cinnabar, silk strands or plant fibres, and castor oil. The seal is constructed with three distinct components: the base, the lotus, and the wheel. The base of the seal is a perfect square prism; it contains two inscriptions detailing the dedication to Lama Zangbu on the top and the impression of the seal on the bottom. Each inscription is carved on either side of the wheel, which vertically bisects the seal to form a knob or handle. Both the inscriptions are carved in traditional Chinese characters with the right inscription dating the reception of the gift and the left inscription indicating the dedication. The inscription on the right of the seal denotes the date when the gift was received, namely the third month of the twenty-second year of Yongle’s reign (1424). The left inscription states that the seal was commissioned by the royal court to Lama Yeshi Zangbu. Despite the inscription not explicitly stating

Image: Artist unknown. Seal with knob in the shape of a wheel. 1424. 7 x 4.2 x 4.2 cm. Ivory. The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

who commissioned the piece, it can be inferred from the use of the verb “賜” (“cì”, ‘to bestow’),5 that the Emperor or a member of his royal court was responsible for the commissioning of the seal as “ 賜” was traditionally used in circumstances of royal endowment of gifts, honours, or titles to a lowerranking individual. The impression of the seal at the bottom is carved in relief in seal script and reads “積修求

律” (“jī xiū qiú lǜ”, ‘assiduously study the laws of forbearance’)6. The perpendicularly linear appearance of seal script ensures that there are no disproportionate lacunas in the seal. Seal script emerged from Zhou dynasty bronze script during the Qin Dynasty (9th century BC–207BC) and allowed for the unification of written Chinese. Despite seal script becoming obsolete upon the invention and standardisation of traditional Chinese 77

characters during the Han Dynasty (202BC–220AD), its ornamental appearance and cultural significance have caused it to be retained for ceremonial and decorative purposes.7 Seal carving originated in the Shang dynasty (1600BC–1046BC) when noblemen began using seals as a form of authentication. Due to seals being associated with erudition and authority, there was an expectation that seals were crafted with beauty and care, precipitating the development of seal carving into an established art form. Seal carvers were required to have a strong sense of aesthetic balance and be proficient calligraphers who could adeptly transfer their skills to carving.8 The small surface area with which to work, stroke execution, detail of carving on the knob, and the source material of a seal are all elements that can testify to the skill of a carver. The wheel and the lotus situated above the base of the seal are distinctly characteristic of Buddhist iconography. The knob of the seal is shaped like a wheel, referencing the dharmachakra, a symbol used to represent samsara (the cyclical nature of existence) and dharma (the Buddhist’s teachings).9 The rim of the wheel contains a repeating pattern of three small symbols – a circle flanked by two heart-shaped icons. The heart-shaped icons may represent bodhi tree leaves or the triplet of icons may collectively reference the Three Jewels, the fundamental principles that underpin Buddhism. The wheel is cradled by a lotus, a prominent symbol within Buddhist iconography that represents purity of spirit.10 The seal is symmetrical when viewed from any of the four sides; this demonstrates that a purposive approach was undertaken to create a symmetrical work that reflects Buddhist teachings of harmony and balance. The canonisation of a transcultural object such as Seal with knob in the shape of a wheel can subvert the institutional bias that entrenches 78

the formation of art canon. The legitimacy of the existing canon is sustained by the pretext of empirical formalism that purports to be divorced from political, social, economic, moral, or cultural contexts of an artwork.11 This misconception must be rectified to reveal the partisanship and subjectivity of art canon formation and its vulnerability to economic influence, social biases, and political agendas. Art canon is adaptive and manipulable, but only to the extent that it furthers the narrative of a privileged group. The convenient categorisation or dismissal of objects representative of the ‘other’ does not support a comprehensive art canon that accurately reflects the global significance of art. Gregor Langfeld notes two different perspectives regarding the approach to the exhibition of German Expressionism in the first half of the twentieth century, which reveals the obstructive consequences of power imbalances to a heterogeneous art canon.12 Katherine Dreier, an advocate for modern art in the United States, believed that German Expressionism was part of a broader modern art movement and should not be exhibited in a purely national narrative. Conversely, the former director of the Museum of Modern Art, Alfred H. Barr Jr., stressed the associations between Expressionism and the national identity of Germany. The latter’s view came to be the prevailing stance. Institutions of canonisation seek a conveniently narrow mode of art categorisation that does not respect the full context of an object. The sheer power of these institutions is extremely difficult to challenge however it can be gradually subverted through the increased admission of culturally hybrid works. The extra-aesthetic context of an object should be adopted as a primary determining factor for admission into canon because it provides the greatest possibility of objective determination. A

full contextualisation of the seal would reveal its suitability to be included in historical, political, cultural, and religious discourses, either past or ongoing, rendering it a highly significant contribution to art history canon. The application of empirical formalism to the determination of canonicity based on aesthetic judgement of an object is a flawed methodology. Empirical formalism functions on the premise that there is a universal standard for beauty and quality. However, this position fails to address the cultural and historical circumstances that can colour the ‘objectivity’ of aesthetic judgement.13 The inherent power imbalances and issues with accessibility can also undermine the legitimacy of a universal aesthetic standard.14 Seal with knob in the shape of a wheel should be included in art history canon to help dismantle the existing mechanisms of canon formation that are characterised by imbalances of power. The seal fulfils conventional requirements for canonicity by being borne of an established artistic practice and possessing significant extra-aesthetic attributes. The cultural hybridity of the seal allows it to exist in multiple discourses while directly challenging the forceful categorisation or exclusion of artworks on the grounds of cultural impurity. A holistic approach to canon formation should be adopted to better reflect the heterogeneity of global art production and to democratise the power relations between all forms of art and society’s access to it. Endnotes 1. “Canon of art history,” National Gallery, accessed March 30, 2021, glossary/canon-of-art-history; Gregor Langfeld, “The canon in art history: concepts and approaches,” Journal of Art Historiography, 19 (December 2018): 1. 2. Shih-shan Henry Tsai, Perpetual Happiness: The Ming Emperor Yongle (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2001), 146.

3. 4. 5. 6. 7.

8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14.

Ibid., 146. Ibid., 144. “Seal with knob in the shape of a wheel,” The Metropolitan Museum of Art, accessed March 30, 2021, https://www. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, “Seal with knob in the shape of a wheel.” National Palace Museum, “Flowing with Grace: The Story of Seal-Script Calligraphy,” Google Arts and Culture, accessed April 1, 2021, story/flowing-with-grace-the-story-of-seal-script-calligraphy/ nAIiC_qrJSJRKA. “Art of Chinese Seal Engraving,” UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage, accessed April 1, 2021, RL/art-of-chinese-seal-engraving-00217. Robert Beer, The Handbook of Tibetan Buddhist Symbols, (Boulder, Colorado: Shambhala Publications, Inc., 2003), 14. Ibid., 7. Christopher B. Steiner, “Can the Canon Burst?,” Art Bulletin, 78 (1996): 217. Langfeld, “The canon in art history: concepts and approaches,” 5. Ibid., 9-10. Ibid., 8.

References Beer, Robert. The Handbook of Tibetan Buddhist Symbols. Boulder, Colorado: Shambhala Publications, Inc., 2003. Hein, Hilde. “Institutional Blessing: The Museum as Canon-Maker.” The Monist, 76, no. 4 (October 1993): 556-573. Langfeld, Gregor. «The canon in art history: concepts and approaches.” Journal of Art Historiography, 19 (December 2018): 1-18. National Gallery. “Canon of art history.” Accessed March 30, 2021. canon-of-art-history. National Palace Museum. “Flowing with Grace: The Story of SealScript Calligraphy.” Google Arts and Culture. Accessed April 1, 2021. Steiner, Christopher B. “Can the Canon Burst?.” Art Bulletin, 78 (1996): 213-217. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. “Seal with knob in the shape of a wheel.” Accessed March 30, 2021. https://www.metmuseum. org/art/collection/search/42014. Tsai, Shih-shan Henry. Perpetual Happiness: The Ming Emperor Yongle. Seattle, USA: University of Washington Press, 2001. UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage. “Art of Chinese Seal Engraving.” Accessed April 1, 2021. en/RL/art-of-chinese-seal-engraving-00217.


HART2207 Caravaggio and the Baroque Unit Coordinator: Dr Susanne Meurer


‘“What they abhor in real life, they like to see in a picture”. Salvator Rosa and the Bamboccianti’ In early modern Europe, satire was an artistic convention, which performed the role of moral reformer; it gave an author a literary avenue in which to channel his indignation and horror regarding the follies and vices of mankind. Satire was to extract “the fruit of reformation” and the ability to use satire was “majestic and learned” as it required the author to direct his critique toward the vice rather than the individual.1 Around 1650, philosopher painter Salvator Rosa employed this convention to pen Satire in Painting; a critique that called attention to the degradation observed in the high art of painting and the patronage that was supporting it.2 An obvious target in his satire, although not the only one, was the group of northern artists called the Bamboccianti who had popularised the subject matter of bambocciate. The Bamboccianti painted small-scale genre scenes, which captured a slice of life among the lower social classes of Rome. They were criticised for depicting only the “vulgar and ugly” aspects of daily Roman life rather than following the academic rules of elevation and idealism.3 On a superficial reading of Rosa’s satire, one might be mistaken for thinking that he was simply being petty and was jealous of the success the Bamboccianti were experiencing. As is the very nature of Italian Baroque, however art was rarely one-dimensional and the superficial was not the only interpretation. Using the verse “what they abhor in real life, they like to see in a picture”, 80

this essay will examine how the Bamboccianti’s consistent choice of subject matter subverted the hierarchy of artistic conventions and how, through their indifference to the grandeur of classical antiquity, these artistic foreigners initiated a social critique on the city of Rome. Rosa started his career painting Neapolitan landscapes and genre scenes before progressing towards biblical iconography and larger philosophical works.4 Seeking to align himself as a worthy member of the art establishment, Rosa strove for recognition in the genres of historical and allegorical scenes. Rosa hoped that his philosophical content would appeal to an intellectual circle and that his moralising themes would reveal him as a great artist.5 Despite this conscious effort, his critics stated that he was “incapable of bringing his works to that level of perfection”; his paintings lacked design and detail, use of colour was inappropriate and his forms were “rustic” and disorganised.6 He was however praised for his earlier paintings, small figures with intriguing scenes of “vile subjects [such as] rogues, limekilns and sailors”.7 Paintings which unfortunately for Rosa described a genre that the Bamboccianti were well-known for and that he was trying to distance himself from.8 Considered inferior in the academic profession of painting, genre scenes fell short of the higher forms of heroic and religious themes. The successful proliferation of the Bamboccianti’s genre paintings, which portrayed the disreputable life of daily Rome, was seen by Rosa and his contemporaries as the root of corruption and decline of the high art of painting.9 Rosa knew any connection to the low nature of these genre paintings would inhibit him from pursuing his goal of become a great artist. In using his satire to criticise the content of their paintings, Rosa could distance himself from the Bamboccianti and their

Image: Pieter van Laer. Self-Portrait with a Magic Scene. Private Collection. 1635-37.


low life genre scenes, and in turn align himself with the more philosophical scenes of which he was keen to pursue.10 The development of Satire on Painting allowed Rosa the vehicle to express his concern and “disgust at the state of painting and patronage”, which he found in Rome.11 In a plea for decorum and a return to the high standards of painting, Rosa expresses his frustration with patrons who so readily prefer the obscene and trivial scenes blaming the degradation and lack of morality on painters and their patrons alike.12 Emphasising that painting required an intellectual approach Rosa criticised those who painted the still lives of “pumpkins and pickled hams…frying pans and Persian rugs” but worse still, those who choose “ragamuffins, petty thieves, vineyards and carts… limekilns and hostelries…” as their subject matter.13 This choice of subject matter depicting the lowest individuals in society, languishing in the streets, reflected the academic consensus that the Bamboccianti’s paintings lacked the grace to surpass the ugliness of the real world and that they had taken liberty in painting what was indecent and disrespectful.14 The intellectual approach required in the portrayal of noble and idealised subjects was set aside by the Bamboccianti whose unsavoury choice of subject matter is what lays a foundation for Rosa’s criticism towards the group. No longer painting the heroic, pursuing higher truth of perfection and idealism, the Bamboccianti had transitioned away from large mythological and religious scenes due to the iconoclasm of the late 16th Century. The northern artists were bringing pictorial traditions to Rome, which favoured landscapes and genre scenes displaying daily life, and in an art-world, which privileged and recognised hierarchy the introduction of these northern pictorial traditions represented a dangerous and unknown entity.15 Genre scenes depicting the dirtier side of 82

Roman life however were not new to the art-world, artists such as Manfredi, de Boulogne and Vouet had already introduced these themes in their art. But as the Bamboccianti painted slices of the ubiquitous streets of Rome, the dirtier side of life had now spilt outside the private salons; their paintings situated street vendors on every corner, gamblers and rogues outside taverns and beggars down alleys, all in view of the ancient ruins of Rome.16 With no evident desire to idealise these unheroic scenes, Rosa and his contemporaries saw a rejection of artistic conventions and a threat towards classical tradition.17 In subverting the expected portrayal of noble themes within their artwork, the Bamboccianti favoured the sights of Rome previously deemed unworthy, centralising subjects that the Romans would rather avert their attention.18 The artwork of the Bamboccianti was bringing to the fore the reality that existed in Rome, a reality that many chose not to see. Despite his offense of their choice of subject matter, Rosa partly excuses the Bamboccianti, acknowledging that “they have no other subjects [as] every place is fertile with the poor”.19 The paintings of the Bamboccianti reflected the decay of Rome in the shadow of its past grandeur. They were an assault to the senses and an offense to those striving to uphold the classical traditions as their paintings revealed the reality of the life that surrounded them. The “vulgar” characters that figure so prominently in the Bambocciate scenes were equally conspicuous on the streets of Rome.20 The Bamboccianti were not the only targets of Rosa’s attempt at reform and his satirical critique shifted focus toward those who continued to support such offensive material, writing that their paintings “are so very highly prized you see them in the princes’ galleries”.21 This admission is the root of Rosa’s satire because while he criticises their choice of subject, he must go on to admonish those

Image: Salvator Rosa, A Pass with Travellers attached by Bandits, c. 1600-1629, oil on canvas, 47 x 63cm, The National Trust Collections, accessed 10 May 2021,


responsible for ‘providing’ such subject matter.22 In Baroque Rome the ecclesiastical elite, the princes of the Church, were everywhere. Not only were they performing the daily religious functions of saying mass and teaching seminary, but they also oversaw every aspect of Roman government, from civic and canon law to taxation, custom duties and even the supply of corn.23 However, from 1600-1670, the once industrially advanced country had become depressed and worn down due to failing agriculture and excessive land taxation, primarily required for the reconstruction of papal buildings. The decline in the Italian economy meant that farmers and labourers were migrating to the city for work in increasing numbers.24 It was these, the disinherited, who joined the professional vagrants, the beggars, the prostitutes and the stragglers who were painted wandering the streets and ruins of the Bamboccianti paintings.25 The placement of such unheroic characters in the shadows of the static and ruinous landscape of ancient Rome once again subverted its grandeur. Rather than elevate the Renaissance offerings, the Bamboccianti used the ruins of classic antiquity to form a backdrop to the unsavoury aspects of life, further reflecting the degradation of Rome. The presence of limekilns was a particular reminder that the ancient sculptures and structures were being destroyed to produce the lime mortar needed for the new construction and the presence of the unheroic nearby issued a double accusation.26 The limekilns meant work for those forgotten by the princes and as Levin posits, the limekiln was linked to the destruction of Rome’s classical past while forming a bitter criticism of their society.27 The criticised genre scenes of the Bamboccianti were in fact the painted reality of the consequences and evils of the contemporary social system, the mismanagement of Rome towards her 84

people.28 In such an economic environment and despite a declining art market, Rosa was indignant that the Bamboccianti continued to sell their ruinous scenes to some of the wealthiest patrons of the city.29 Rosa’s satire reveals the lack of social conscience in the city he lives as those “afflicted and bare, don’t receive a single cent from those who spend their dollars on the painted version”. He condemns the noble and princely patrons who are “miserly in charity” that despite “what they abhor in real life, they like to see in a picture”.30 Rosa’s attempt to “extract the fruit of reformation”31 through a satirical critique on the status of painting and patronage was in part a criticism toward the Bamboccianti but it was undergirded by his criticism towards their patrons. The Bamboccianti’s continual subversion of artistic expectations and conventions was revealed in their consistent pursuit of indecorous subject matter and in so doing, they had succeeded in elevating the low life genre scenes to a position of social critique by documenting the degradation that surrounded them.32 Despite his criticism of their unintellectual approach in choosing such vulgar subject matter, what lies beneath Rosa’s satirical critique is a lament. A lament over the gradual decline of the grandeur of Rome and the negligence of the priestly princes who had attributed to the ruinous and vulgar street scenes so vividly represented in the artwork of the Bamboccianti.

Endnotes 1. Robert Enggass, and Jonathan Brown, Italian and Spanish Art 1600-1750 Sources and Documents, (Northwestern University Press, 1992), 130. 2. Wendy Wassyng Roworth, “A Date for Salvator Rosa’s Satire on Painting and the Bamboccianti in Rome,” The Art Bulletin 63, no. 4 (1981): 611, 17, 3. Wassyng Roworth, “A Date for Salvator Rosa’s Satire on Painting and the Bamboccianti in Rome,” 611.

4. 5. 6. 7.

8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15.

16. 17.

18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30.

Jonathan Scott, Salvator Rosa: His Life and Times, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995), 4, 5. Scott, Salvator Rosa: His Life and Times, 72,73.; Wassyng Roworth, “A Date for Salvator Rosa’s Satire on Painting and the Bamboccianti in Rome,” 617. Enggass and Brown, Italian and Spanish Art 1600-1750 Sources and Documents, 129. Scott, Salvator Rosa: His Life and Times, 8.; Wendy Thompson, “Pigmei Pizzicano Di Gigante: The Encounter between Netherlandish and Italian Artists in Seventeenth Century Rome,” (The Johns Hopkins University, 1997) 367, https://search-proquest- dissertations-theses/pigmei-pizzicano-di-gigante-encounterbetween/docview/304349010/se-2?accountid=14681. Enggass and Brown, Italian and Spanish Art 1600-1750 Sources and Documents, 130. Scott, Salvator Rosa: His Life and Times, 92.; Wassyng Roworth, “A Date for Salvator Rosa’s Satire on Painting and the Bamboccianti in Rome,” 611. Scott, Salvator Rosa: His Life and Times, 89.; Wassyng Roworth, “A Date for Salvator Rosa’s Satire on Painting and the Bamboccianti in Rome,” 617. Ibid., 611, 614. Ibid., 611, 614. Scott, Salvator Rosa: His Life and Times, 86. Wassyng Roworth, “A Date for Salvator Rosa’s Satire on Painting and the Bamboccianti in Rome,” 615.; Thompson, “Pigmei Pizzicano Di Gigante”, 10. Susanne Meurer, “The Underbelly: Vice and Destitution in Baroque Art” (lecture, University of Western Australia, Crawley, WA, March 25, 2021).; Scott, Salvator Rosa: His Life and Times, 17, 87. Thompson, „Pigmei Pizzicano Di Gigante”, 4, 10. Meurer, “The Underbelly: Vice and Destitution in Baroque Art”.; David Levine, “The Roman Limekilns of the Bamboccianti,” The Art Bulletin 70, no. 4 (1988): 24, 41, Thompson, „Pigmei Pizzicano Di Gigante”, 213. Ibid,. 99. Ibid,. 99.; Scott, Salvator Rosa: His Life and Times, 87. Ibid,. 87. Thompson, “Pigmei Pizzicano Di Gigante”, 100, 110, 362. Scott, Salvator Rosa: His Life and Times, 15. Thompson, „Pigmei Pizzicano Di Gigante”, 216. Ibid,. 32, 101. Ibid,. 213, 214, 306, 307. Levine, “The Roman Limekilns of the Bamboccianti,” 580. Thompson, “Pigmei Pizzicano Di Gigante”, 101, 102, 105. Wassyng Roworth, “A Date for Salvator Rosa’s Satire on Painting and the Bamboccianti in Rome,” 615. Thompson, “Pigmei Pizzicano Di Gigante”, 363.

31. Enggass and Brown, Italian and Spanish Art 1600-1750 Sources and Documents, 130. 32. Erin Downey, “The Bentvueghels: Networking and Agency in the Seicento Roman Art Market,” (ProQuest Dissertations Publishing, 2015), 91, https://onesearch.library.uwa. journals_1710062094.


HART2041 The Art of Photography Unit Coordinators: Dr Emily Eastgate Brink & Dr Philip Goldswain


‘Traces: On Photography in Books’ In selecting and arranging the photographs for my final project, I found myself frustrated with a drive to construct a linear narrative about the ‘progress’ of photographic history. Reconciling photography’s irrefutable discursive changes with the sense that it is always tied to its own unstable origins – often returning and rewriting visions of the past – became the most viable path.1 As Geoffrey Batchen writes: “Photographic history, it seems, always carries with it its own erasure. A singular point of origin, a definitive meaning, a linear narrative, all of these traditional historical props are henceforth displaced from photography’s provenance.”2 Drawing on Batchen’s conclusion, the photobook is premised on photography’s cyclical relationship to its past. Traces is an attempt to understand the temporal and textual malleability of the photographic form and its histories. I do not wish to claim there is an essential unity in all photography, or between all photographers. That kind of universality disallows productive readings of difference and ignores the potential for photography to be subversive. Nor do I want to suggest that photography, from its conception to today, has changed completely, or not at all. Instead, I look to the mobility of photographs, both temporally and semantically, as they relate to one another in the world and especially in books. To take Paul Strand’s words, “rather than a linear record,” I like the idea of photobooks as “a 86

composite whole of interdependencies.”3 In his series, Photogenic Drawings, Hiroshi Sugimoto creates positive prints of William Henry Fox Talbot’s earliest negative images. The photobook closes with one of these, Buckler Fern, March 6, 1839 or earlier. Sugimoto positions himself as an “archaeological explorer excavating the very origins of photography.”4 His metaphor works well for the subject of Buckler Fern. The fern laid out across the photosensitive paper by Talbot has a striking resemblance to fossilised plant matter. In the most straightforward sense the subject of the work is the buckler fern, what may have become, if Talbot had reproduced a positive image, one of his many botanical studies. Importantly, Sugimoto’s positive reproduction of the fern is an image that Talbot wouldn’t have seen. The buckler fern announces a return to the origins of photography and a communion between Talbot and Sugimoto. The fern curves up the whole length of the composition with only the end of the stem and final florets at the top missing. Interestingly, the irregular trimming of the negative gives the whole the shape of a shield engraved with a fern. The irregularities of his prints are especially productive. The smudge in the centre of the piece becomes its focal point. As the viewer’s eyes run up along the plant’s trajectory they are caught in an inky shadow, something that threatens to spread across the whole. We might read Sugimoto’s photogenic drawings as a dramatization of the difficulties faced by proto-photographers. The process of reproducing Talbot’s negatives meant accepting the possibility they might be destroyed in the process. Buckler fern, despite being a successful print, imports this threat to vision – figured in the smudge at its centre. In his restaging of photographic history, Sugimoto troubles the line between the past and present, acknowledging the unstable origins of photography.

Image: Hiroshi Sugimoto. Buckler Fern, March 6, 1839 or earlier, 2008. 87

Image: William Henry Fox Talbot. Winter Trees, Reflected in a Pond, salted paper print from paper negative, 16.5 x 19.2 cm. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1841-1842.


Image: Stephen Shore. El Paso Street, El Paso, Texas, July 5, 1975, chromogenic print, 19.5 × 24.6 cm. The Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art. 1975.



Image: William Henry Fox Talbot. Dandelion Seeds, photogravure, 15.1 x 11.3 cm. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1858 or later.

Image: Walker Evans. The Cactus Plant / Interior Detail of a Portuguese House, Truro, Massachusetts, gelatin silver print, 20.3 x 16 cm. The J. Paul Getty Museum 1930-1.

The Cactus Plant / Interior Detail of a Portuguese House, Truro Massachusetts by Walker Evans is a busy, yet delicate, photograph. The brilliance of this piece, I think, is that it is both a still life and a family portrait. Evans’ alludes to this duality in the forward slash of the title. While the subject is “The Cactus Plant,” it is also the “Interior Detail[s]” of a home owned by an immigrant Portuguese family. The accumulated objects of the photograph; four family photographs; a vase of dried flowers; a section of the American flag; a roll of tape and a matchbox, present like a

homely shrine. Each horizontal third has an allotted, framed family portrait, and although disjointed, the image could be read as a kind of triptych; echoing the standing frame of the wedding portrait. The viewer’s eyes are drawn up the body of the cactus plant and along the arms which almost touch the face of the young girl, and again, that of the baby boy’s whose snapshot is tucked in the picture frame. This is again mirrored on the wall to the right of the picture frame, as our eyes travel up to the partially obscured, though undoubtedly matriarchal, photograph.

For me, what is so striking about this photograph is the proliferation of possible narratives it allows. It begs connection between the faces and objects. Is the child on the left the woman at her wedding? Is she the newlyweds’ child? Are all three women the same woman at different stages in her life, or three generations? The genealogical possibilities allow for a proliferation of imagined histories. The cactus reads like a version of a family tree. The objects in the photograph, in particular the framed portraits, visually mark the passing of time. In Evans’ piece time becomes porous – inviting multiple interpretations. Like Sugimoto’s Buckler Fern, The Cactus Plant is suggestive of photography’s ability to interrogate the past. In photography “[t]ime is seen as the arrester of significance not – as in traditional art – the medium in which it unfolds.”5 William Henry Fox Talbot’s Winter Trees, Reflected in a Pond, the first image in the photobook, sets up one of the core conceits of Traces; the photographic as a pre-existing, or natural occurrence. The subject is the reflection of the bare trees on the surface of the pond. Taken at a wide angle, the image is demarcated by the distant horizon line and a stretch of dark wooded area that runs behind the pond and line of trees. Here, where the land and water meet in the picture plane, is also where the trees trunks merge with their double in the water. This middle distance is also significant, not only compositionally, but because it is at the same level Talbot positioned himself to take the shot. Talbot creates an image in which the natural world is implicated in its own reproduction. There is a reference to the calotype, the technology that produced the image we see, in that it is light that causes the impression on the water. The audience is asked to consider whether the photographer – as artist, scientist or professional, is the producer

of this image, or if it proceeds him in nature. Winter Trees, Reflected in a Pond typifies Talbot’s view of “nature [as] simultaneously active and passive, just as photography…is simultaneously natural and cultural.”6 In its relatively brief history, photography has evolved technologically, discursively and culturally. It has also necessarily altered the visual arts, literature, and our social practices, as well as how we engage with the visual world. Many arguments can, and are, made in favour of this view of radical photographic transformation. The collection and arrangement of photography in Traces is an attempt at disputing versions of photographic history which privilege linearity and progress; as well as the idea that contemporary photography somehow outruns its origins. I wanted to demonstrate a reading practice and historical account premised on the concepts of interdependence and intertextuality, in which photography is always referring to itself and to others. Many of the pieces, even the earliest photographs in the photobook, are strikingly modern in their way of seeing the world, while others are concerned with an imagined deep time, or timelessness. In its reiterations, recycling of ideas and images, and constant returns to the past, photography evades our attempts to place it at a singular point in history.

Endnotes 1. Geoffrey Batchen, Burning with Desire: The Conception of Photography (London: MIT Press, 1997), 201. 2. Ibid, 202. 3. Paul Strand, Sixty Years of Photography (New York: Aperture, 1976), 173. 4. Hiroshi Sugimoto, “Photogenic Drawing,” Hiroshi Sugimoto, accessed May 17, 2021, photogenic-drawing. 5. Linda Nochlin, Realism (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1971), 31. 6. Geoffrey Batchen, Burning with Desire: The Conception of Photography (London: MIT Press, 1997), 68.


HART1000 Great Moments in Art Unit Coordinator: Dr Susanne Meurer Teaching Staff: Linda Cheok & Matthew Mason

TIAAN ROUSSET ‘Surrealism’

Revolution was in the air as “All power to the imagination!” was graffitied on the streets of France as tens of thousands of disillusioned workers and students occupied universities, carried out mass strikes, and caused immense civil unrest in the inspirational May ’68 revolt. This movement and its slogan although occurring many years after the golden age of surrealism, is perhaps the best and most clear manifestation of what the surrealists were trying to achieve. In the “first Manifesto of Surrealism” published in 1924, Andre Breton a French writer, poet, artist, and father of the surrealist movement wrote about surrealism as “pure psychic automatism by which it is intended to express either verbally or in writing or otherwise the true function of thought, thought dictated in the absence of all control exerted by reason, and outside all aesthetic or moral preoccupations.” Forming a loose group of artists, poets, and authors around him, Breton under the banner of “surrealism” pushed his countercultural movement into the public eye to radically change European culture and promote revolutionary politics. The movement was heavily inspired by Dada, an earlier and similar avant-garde and radical artistic movement, the psychoanalytic ideas of Sigmund Freud, and a deep-seated hatred of materialistic bourgeois society which they felt brought about World War 1, and caused immense alienation in, and degeneration of, society.


Through Breton’s co-ordination, the movement bloomed and from the 1920s spread worldwide influencing literature, art, film, and music in multiple countries as well as political thought and philosophy. The movement was marked by an obsession with the unconscious mind, their art manifesting in radically new and challenging forms that employed juxtaposition of distant realties, illogical combinations of strange creatures and objects, and automatic writing and drawing. Breton hoped this form of art could “resolve the previously contradictory conditions of dream and reality into an absolute reality, a superreality, or surreality”. To truly come to understand the attempt at marrying both dream and reality that is actualised in surrealist art, it is important to discuss the theories of Sigmund Freud from which Breton owes so much. Breton, during the earlier part of his life, studied medicine and during this time he was introduced to the works of Freud. Sigmund Freud had come to fame for his contribution to psychology – that the subconscious mind was a genuine phenomenon that played an immense role in human thought and action. These radically new discourses that seemed to bring to light something that was previously hidden immediately inspired Breton. He felt as if this radical new analysis was a break from European bourgeois society that had excluded and shut off the power of dreams and imagination under the veil of strict rationalism, rapid “progress”, and civilisation. Breton believed that the significance that psychoanalysis placed on dreams and hallucinations as well as the techniques that allowed for an analysis and understanding of these previously alien and mysterious forms, was a possible vehicle for artistic creation. That is, the symbolic imagery engendered in dreams and the discourses of dream-analysis could be used to

Image: Philippe Halsman. Dali Atomicus. MoMA, NYC. 1948.


evoke poetic effects. The discovery of psychoanalysis could allow for a brand new cultural and intellectual movement that could develop a new perspective by employing radically new artistic and literary methodology grounded in the subconscious and taking advantage of human imagination. This could allow Europeans to break free from the yoke of ruling class morals and ideas. Breton’s admiration for Freud’s theories was used to gather art sits under the banner of a counterculture that could overturn a society under the dictatorship of the superego. Now that Breton had synthesised an understanding of, and application for, the realm of dreams, the surrealist movement had to introduce this into reality, and this was most clearly seen in their later adoption of revolutionary left-wing politics. While Breton and his contemporaries had purportedly unlocked the secrets of their unconscious through their automatic drawing and writing, and melding of juxtaposing realities in their paintings, this was still far off from radically transforming their lived reality into a surreality. The society in which Breton was situated forbid any kind of search for truth that did not conform with strict cultural norms. If they were to overcome this the surrealists had to encourage an immense upheaval of their own material reality, so that it could be mixed with their idealised dream states. The surrealists’ hesitance in the face of political militancy could no longer hold. Breton eventually argued that the radical restructuring of society they needed could be achieved through the politicisation of the surrealist movement and quickly adopted Marxism as a means to do so. Several surrealists joined the French communist party or PCF; however this presented a challenge as although the PCF considered itself at the head of promoting revolutionary spirit, it was opposed to the significance of the creative 94

practices produced by the surrealists. Breton and the surrealists had arrived at their revolutionary outlook through the lens of their creative endeavour, however the PCF only saw idealist bourgeois decadence. The Surrealists wish to maintain an orientation towards an emancipatory politics that upheld the link between creative practice and revolutionary action was a problem when interacting with Marxist politics for if it was to succeed in the cultural field it had to dress up its politics in surreal clothes and relegate it to the realm of metaphor, whilst if it was to hold any weight within the politico-economic framework of Marxism it had to look past the metaphorical games of culture toward a material basis. Surrealism ultimately failed to recognise this contradiction and as such was never able to succeed in marrying the two realms of dream and reality in the way that they had envisioned. That is until May 68’ when a large amount of surrealist ideas and those influenced by them (the Situationist International) came to fruition in one of the biggest displays of simultaneous discontent and hope France had ever seen. Unfortunately, surrealism during the time of Breton never actualised its dream of creating a surreality and remained more than just art but not quite politics. In conclusion the surrealist movement believed there to be something marvellous hidden beneath everyday life in the realm of dreams and the subconscious and their goal was to meld the two into a new surreality. While employing the theories of Sigmund Freud and creating an immense body of incredible artwork that explored dreams and the subconscious, the Surrealists failed to radically change broader society and their movement was stuck in the realm of art. In fact today we could conclude that their attempts at the destruction of bourgeois cultural hegemony and construction of a new surreality were

worse than expected. This is due to their corpus of work – that so highly valued imagination and freedom –being absorbed into modern high culture and the art market, both expressions of the violently monotonous rationality of late capitalism. Their work, for now, divorced from the majority of working-class people they so desperately tried to emancipate.


Architecture, Landscape Architecture & Urban Design

Image: ARLA1000 Design Studio, A Food Landscape displays. Cullity Gallery, 2021 Winter Collective Exhibition opening night, 10 June 2021. Photogr 96

raphy by Samantha Dye. 97

Foreword by Samantha Dye The first and final semester began and ended with the same sorts of emotions: a whirlwind of calm, trepidation, and excitement. Except, there is another, and stronger sentiment in which I felt for this concluding semester: the fierce sense of fulfilment built up from the five and a half years of studying at the School of Design. The trek to this point, from being the ‘quiet’ one in first year, to now being the approachable one; all of it – the education, the collective ‘ALVA’ experiences, the relationships made between fellow peers, mentors, staff, and students – has been memorable to me. More than ever, kindness is important. The little things, like a small act of writing down feedback notes during jury week, matter. It was this deed to my fellow peers in my second year studio that unexpectedly led to a recommendation to be a SONA Representative. As with most new things, it was a daunting role, but my experience as a SONA Rep has been rewarding; from being the coordinator of SuperStudio in WA, to exposing myself to the architecture industry and network. Looking back, I realise that if I had not taken that first step out of my comfort zone, it is likely that I would have never had the opportunities and experiences that followed this role. Possibly, I would not have lurked around the HUB like a hawk for three semesters as the HUB Manager. Therefore, I highly encourage other students, no matter how big or small, no matter if it is your first or last year, to make a leap. You may be surprised to discover the depth of your own resilience and capability. I also had the opportunity to experience teaching, and this placed me on the other side of education. I have always been aware of the tremendous work required in the role of an educator, however actually being one has made me in awe of the teaching staff at the School. This sentiment is felt greater especially in the wake of a global pandemic, where teaching staff had to fully shift their units online on short notice. Unlike the prior semester where I was just the teaching assistant, this time, I was a workshop coordinator, and the threat of a snap lockdown loomed dreadfully closer than when I was just a student. This teaching experience exposed me to the dedicated efforts behind every weekly preparation for class, and the hours spent on marking and writing feedback. As students, myself included, we often take it for granted the efforts that go into our education. Yes, indeed it is part of the job, and yes, there is always room for improvement, yet we are all human, so I must acknowledge and applaud all the teaching, academic, and support staff at the School of Design for delivering excellent education, semester after semester. As I write this, concluding the final pages of this chapter, the rain has paused and night has fallen; a new chapter slowly unfolds – a job interview awaits me tomorrow. I congratulate the students for their exceptional work exhibited in this catalogue, and I applaud all Design students for the work produced this semester. To you, students or staff, parents or friends, ALVA community or the wider community, I wish you the very best in your next endeavour. I hope to see you again. Samantha Dye, Master of Architecture 2021 98

Image: UWA EZONE site visit. Photography by Yeong-Chyi Wong. 2019. 99


Image: ARCT5101/5102 Architecture Studio, Spiritual Space; an emotional reaction to our surroundings. Design HUB, 2021 Winter Collective Exhibition 100

opening night, 10 June 2021. Photography by Samantha Dye. 101



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ARCT5502 Independent Design Research Unit Coordinator: Dr Kate Hislop Supervisor: Lara Camilla Pinho


‘Karli Bworka: Design for Disruption’ The project, Karli-Bworka, or Fire-Cloak, is a speculative methodology linked to a pattern-based building programme and potential masterplan located in the Augusta-Geographe region, Western Australia. The proposition is intended as a counterpoint to the development processes operating under Federal Australian National Construction Codes and ongoing rural development projects undertaken by State and Regional governments in Western Australia. Karli-Bworka is intended as a direct oppositional proposition to the development taking place 6km east of the site (Phases 1a, 2a, 2b of Witchcliffe Ecovillage). Despite aspirational design and programmatic intentions, Witchcliffe falls far short of the necessary sustainability and technological requirements to cope with the drying climatic conditions of the Augusta-Geographe region and further fails to provide adequate low-cost, high-performance built typologies to reduce the severe housing shortages therein. The fundamental question this project asks is: can fire be used as a tool for architecture in postColonial Redgate and Walcliffe House? What are the architectural outcomes of the programmatic function of fire? What are the landscape outcomes of utilising fire to modify the local biophillia and what elements can be fabricated to ensure performance in the event of catastrophic bushfires? Further can the architecture of the design reflect both the landscape and cultural heritage of the site and be both extremely high performance (BAL 100) and sustainable?

Image: Walcliffe Canticle axonometric perspective. 103









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Image: (Left) Yebbie’s Gallop plan; (Centre) Song of the Plateau axonometric perspective; (Top Right) Redgate Refuge Helmholz Resonators; (Bottom 104






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Right) Walcliffe Canticle structural repair. 105

ARCT5502 Independent Design Research Unit Coordinator: Dr Kate Hislop Supervisor: Dr Rosangela Tenorio


‘Achieving affordability of single-detached dwellings with Circular Design’ The building industry in Australia significantly adds to landfill, with building waste contributing approximately 6.25 million tonnes each year. In present day, most products – including building materials – are designed through a traditional approach based on a linear economy, which involves a take-make-dispose system. Considering most of Australia’s building typologies are made up of singledetached dwellings, there is potential for future construction to shift from designs of a linear economy to a circular one. A circular economy aims to design out waste and pollution, keep products and materials in use, and regenerate natural systems. Designing for a circular economy allows the circulating of value and resources, which in return creates economic, environmental, and societal value. Additionally, it has the potential to lower costs of manufacturing, production, transportation of materials, and its construction. By doing so, circular design acts as a reliable step towards affordable and accessible housing for all. The systemisation of components that make up a house introduces architectural elements that are multi-functioning, allowing it to adapt to varying contexts in Australia, as well as other countries. By consolidating components into an open-source platform, the convenience of maintenance and flexibility of house owners to renovate or alter aspects, circular homes become convenient. Additionally, suppliers can provide maintenance to their products and consequently reuse or refurbish a returned component. This enables elements of construction to retain their value. Constructing with circular design building elements will allow the 6.25 million tonnes of construction waste that goes to landfill to instead be reused in a circular cycle or be channelled into recycling, or energy recovery.

Image: Circular House construction sequence. 106


Image: (Left) Circular House as single-detached house, addition or alteration; (Right) Open-source platform delivering prefabricated circular housing 108

components. 109

ARCT5502 Independent Design Research Unit Coordinator: Dr Kate Hislop Supervisor: Craig McCormack

LUCA HANCOCK ‘Project Resurgam’

Formed in response to the Wooroloo Bushfire, Project Resurgam investigates bushfire-resistant house design for the community of residents rebuilding within the affected area. The fire burnt 10,900 hectares and destroyed 86 buildings in the Wooroloo and Gidgegannup area during the first week of February 2021. As our family property was located within the burn area, I witnessed the destruction caused by this disaster and heard from neighbours who tragically lost their houses. The aim of this research project was to facilitate the process of rebuilding by undertaking an investigation into the latest fire-resistant design and construction techniques. This process led to the creation of a design solution sited on our family property, which aimed to be cost effective while complying with the strictest fireresistance levels. Research was divided into two main areas. The design brief was informed by investigating houses and residents within the burn area, and a catalogue of walls, cladding and protection technologies was developed through a study of bushfireresistant houses. The final design delivers maximum fire resistance while providing a liveable home which gives a modern take on the local design vernacular of a traditional pitched-roof house with wide verandas. The floorplan keeps services to the southern side, so that the northern frontage is maximized for the living and sleeping quarters. Spaces are defined by rectilinear blocks that clearly delineate between the private and public areas. The materiality sees the blocks of private spaces wrapped in rammed earth walls, while the public areas utilise walls of steel framing with external cladding of aerated autoclaved concrete panels. Fire protection to the openings is provided by mesh screens along the verandas, while operable metal shutters protect the other openings. A rooftop sprinkler system is installed with a water tank and diesel pump to allow for prolonged operation.

Image: (Top) Section; (Bottom) Structural system. 110


Image: (Left) Expanded axonometric; (Centre) Site plan; (Right) Elevations. 112



ARCT5101 Architecture Studio Unit Coordinator: Andrea Quaglioa Studio Coordinator: Dr Nicoletta Pizzuti ‘Adaptive Reuse of Heritage Buildings’


‘Elders Wool Store – Adaptive Reuse’ Elders Wool Store is a vital part of Fremantle’s industrial landscape and alongside other industrial structures within its surroundings forms a prominent landmark from the city approaches and Victoria Quay that contribute to the city’s character. The Fremantle Wool Stores tell the story of the growth, plateau and decline of the wool industry in Western Australia through its building stages and subsequent stages of demolition. This adaptive reuse of the Elders Wool Store has been undertaken alongside restoration principles and charter recommendations with national and local policies like the Burra Charter, following a sensitive approach to change – to ‘do as much as necessary to care for the place and to make it useable, but otherwise change it as little as possible so that its cultural significance is retained’.1 The proposed building hopes to act as a catalyst to revitalise what the Freo 2029 report identifies as a major opportunity zone, as well as support the vision of Fremantle as a city centre that is more walkable and bicycle friendly through a mixed-use building that offers unique residential, commercial and co-working opportunities.

Endnotes 1. The Burra Charter: The Australia ICOMOS Charter for Places of Cultural Significance, 2013. Image: Elders Wool Store perspective. 115

Image: Elders Wool Store sectional perspective. 116


ARCT5101 Architecture Studio Unit Coordinator: Andrea Quaglioa Studio Coordinator: Sally Farrah ‘Architecture as a Paraline Language’


‘Optimising Aged Care’ Sam Jacob in Real Estates: Life Without Debt (2014) describes money as a “kind of potential energy. Not a natural form of energy governed by fundamental laws of physics, but something else: an imaginary human value that encompasses power, value and opportunity.” The current Australian aged care system allocates opportunity on a financial basis, rather than need – the only value perceived is monetary. This project perceives money as a different kind of ‘potential energy’ to explore an alternative system, where those with few financial assets, have greater access to aged care. It is evident that heritage is a significant and valued part of Fremantle’s identity. This informed the idea to place tangible value on an elderly individual’s Intangible Cultural Heritage (ICH), allowing residents to use their individual heritage as a means of income. A hybrid of aged care and education. A system where residents are valued for their intangible skill set, passing on their knowledge to students. This project introduces a new way of designing aged care architecture nationwide. If the physical form is directly related to the residents and their skill set, then the number of enrolled students is directly related to these two factors. But how do you establish the scale of the facility in a way that will optimise the opportunities of a particular site? By calculating the optimum ratio of residents to students, then using this information to optimise the scale of the building to accommodate both the residents and the students, while also making a profit.

Image: Maximising strategy implemented within Fremantle. 118


Image: Site-specific maximising strategy investigation. 120



ARCT5101 Architecture Studio Unit Coordinator: Andrea Quaglioa Studio Coordinator: Kirill de Lancastre Jedenov ‘Thousand Year Retreat’

JULIA KEYMER ‘Let Them Burn’

Bushfire. A word that incites both dread and unease in many. The Australian approach to fire is often a result of this fear. We clear land and build with costly ‘bushfire resistant’ materials. We build bunkers designed to keep nature out. And sacrifice our connection with the environment in the process. It has not always been this way. Fire has historically been an important process in the Australian landscape. First Nations People utilised fire, particularly cool, slow-burning fires, to manage land and improve farming. Many native species of flora require the heat of fire for the release of seed and generation of new plant life. As such, the Australian bush has become not only resilient to fire, but dependent on it, and has developed the ability to regenerate quickly and successfully from bushfires; as have its inhabitants. Is it time to rethink our response to fire? If we choose to build in the Australian bush, aware of the possibility and, indeed, the probability, of large-scale bushfires, we must build in expectation. “If forests were meant to burn, why not the houses in them?” To truly live with nature, we must release our control over it and embrace all of its processes: sun, wind, water, fire. This project challenges Australia’s contemporary response to fire. Rather than building to keep nature out, we deepen our relationship with it by inviting it in. Occupants enjoy the spaces they inhabit for their temporality. The burning and destruction of architecture can be a jarring experience. By building with the intention to destroy, the burning becomes an important social moment – a performance. Along with the surrounding bush, buildings are burnt and regenerate in an ongoing cycle of emergence and disappearance. If we can’t prevent fires, we can learn to live with them. Let them burn.

Image: Observing ‘the burning’. 123

Image: Section; emergence, existence, disappearance, memory. 124


ARCT5101 Architecture Studio Unit Coordinator: Andrea Quaglioa Studio Coordinator: Dr Nigel Westbrook ‘The End of Architecture’


On an Island south of Venice, Campo De la Heroin is a social housing neighbourhood bringing life to a lost and forgotten Villa property at the heart of Giudecca. The fields of Heroin is an extension of the historical built character and labyrinth-like nature of Venice. By horizontally organising housing units fragmented between existing trees and landscape, three floor typologies adapt and site in the site where necessary. The stone paths act to guide and traverse from one end of the site to the other, where movement makes use of redefining usable park areas for the city to enjoy. To the west, a bridge allows the site to be connected to the neighbouring island creating a new datum for the movement in the island. While primarily built out of recycled and weathered Venetian brick, a focus on utilising locally available skills and tradespeople was integral in the design to retaining the built character of the island. The cores and bridge are constructed out of reinforced concrete to appear as though they connected in place, allowing for unique movement across spans, as well as public space on the rooftops. Existing boundary walls are retained in the facades so ground level points and junctions feel as though the buildings previously existed. Interiors separate private bedroom areas to the north, with kitchen and living to the south where best solar penetration is available. Entry points to spaces are placed between them to create anti rooms where one will be able to close off areas for increased privacy. Inbuilt storage is utilised in the circulation spaces where possible to maximise the liveable area. The existing Villa once owned by the Heroin Brothers is preserved and upscaled to a Rowing Club, which serves the community as the neighbourhood centre in coming together to drink and conversate. The shed stores the vessels to the north.

Image: Campo De La Heroin, exterior views. 126


Image: Campo De La Heroin, site plan and elevations. 128



ARCT5102 Architecture Studio Unit Coordinator: Andrea Quaglioa Studio Coordinator: Gertjan Groen ‘Spiritual Space; an emotional reaction to our surroundings’


‘Native West Australian Nursery and Education Centre’ From the very first visit to the site I was overwhelmed with how much natural degradation there was and not only the heritage buildings, but the native flora surrounding them as well. It had just been raining and as I walked through the bush I noticed the fallen, curled up pieces of eucalyptus bark scattered all over the site. I picked one up and could never quite put it down. From there I soaked and manipulated the shape of different pieces of bark varying in thickness and once dried I would capture their unique qualities in photos. After many attempts I had not reached a form that embodied all the aspects I initially found so intriguing about the bark. So I returned to studying and replicating the naturally occurring bark formations on site. This resulted in my final form, which in turn created the building’s function. The final spiritual space is the Native West Australian Flora Nursery and Education Centre. The space consists of a teaching area and a retail space, which isn’t structured as per a usual plant nursery. There are garden beds spread out among the site acting as the merchandise, but more importantly they are in turn regenerating the site. The structure itself is warm and inviting. The curves are enticing, promoting a sense of curiosity to venture through and explore its different facets. Formed from a singular entity, the fold and unexpected bends of the structure provide sufficient undercover areas for its required purpose, while occupying the site unobtrusively. The aim is to create an inspiring place that facilitates a spiritual journey for individuals to find or regain a lost connection to place.

Image: Detail of 1:50 Final Model. 131

Image: Detail of 1:50 Final Model. 132


ARCT5101 Architecture Studio Unit Coordinator: Andrea Quaglioa Studio Coordinator: Emiliano Roia ‘Brioni Campus’


For four generations, the Brioni family have been intimately involved with the production of clay earth products on their family property in the Po Valley. The Brioni companies (Fornace and Matteo Brioni Terre per LÁrchitettura) pride themselves in the quality and traditional craftsmanship of their hand-made products. The design vision for this project is to create a series of buildings and spaces for visitors that reflect this love of earth craftsmanship, age-old techniques as well as the cutting edge innovation. The design vision is to give visitors an authentic Brioni experience through the provision of spaces that delight the senses, encourage collaboration and innovation, reflect the tactile nature of clay products, provide a seamless transition between past and future, and fit in contextually within the wider history and culture of the area and its natural environment. The design proposal seeks to transform the disused parts of the industrial site with new buildings and landscaping and to link these to the smaller scale buildings on the northern, entry part of the site away from the large factory buildings. The proposal seeks to provide a legible sequence of spaces and a quiet, asymmetrical yet balanced order to the site reminiscent of the cascina a corte particular to Lombardy. Simple cubic forms allude to the ‘Torre’ of the region and anchor the project to the site, orientating the visitor as they pass through the sequence of spaces. The design seeks to celebrate natural clay through the use of beautiful, textured plaster finishes on the buildings. The cubic, earth forms are highlighted and accented by the shifting sun and moving shadows and evoke a quiet, ordered yet monumental, eternal presence.

Image: Short-term accommodation business suites capture the dramatic seasonal changes. 134


Image: (Left) Ground floor and first floor plans; (Top Right) NE Elevation in winter; (Bottom Right) NE Elevation in summer. 136



ARCT5202 Detailed Design Studio Unit Coordinator: Andrea Quaglioa Studio Coordinator: Santiago Perez ‘Radical Matter [Miami Ecohub]’


Situated along the Miami River in Sewell Park, the proposed Eco Hub redefines the edge condition between urban development and sensitive environmental and ecological systems, which are often destructive. The river is one of Miami’s main arteries, keeping the city alive and supporting trade, transport, culture, community, ecology and economy. The river flows with water that drains out of the everglades and serves as a memory of the sensitive hydrological systems that once gave life to a very different range of inhabitants. Prior to dredging and agricultural development at the beginning of the 20th century, the everglades covered a vast amount of the Florida Peninsula supported incredible biological diversity. Today, “it is estimated that no more than two percent of the original Everglades ecosystem is truly intact” ( The design for the Miami EcoHub and its surrounding site is intended to educate, to regenerate and to foster innovative solutions for the built environment. The proposal first responds to the site and its context reconfiguring the hard river’s edge and turning a flat lawned portion of the park into a regenerative ecological gradient. Endemic grasses and plant species help to filter the Miami River water and storm water runoff, reminiscent of the everglades. Within the gradient, a series of exterior spaces and walkways provide immersive educational experiences and research spaces, a terminal for vehicular access by land and water and spaces for community engagement within an ecological context. Rain permeable photo voltaic canopies provide shade from the hot sun and power to the Hub. Among the canopies a slim tower stacks the program vertically with column free floors holding exhibition spaces, ‘colab’ and ‘cofab’ spaces while full floor trusses wrap service levels supporting the free span floors above and below. The tower allows for minimal site coverage, natural light and cross ventilation and an important connection along the river to down town Miami.

Image: First floor plan. 139

Image: (Left) Conceptual diagrams; (Right) Detail sections. 140


ARCT5201 Detailed Design Studio Unit Coordinator: Andrea Quaglioa Studio Coordinator: Gemma Hohnen ‘Crisis Studio 3’


‘Woolstores Youth Outreach and Multi-Residential’ We are now in a time of great change. Climate change and social change that has not been met with the same urgency in the political sphere. The business-asusual approach has been met with protests such as the Extinction Rebellion and the Tent City, a homeless refuge space in Pioneer Park only a few blocks from the Woolstores Site where the brief for the crisis studio is set. Spurring the thought of “what if those younger people who are ‘at risk’ and looking forward, but do not have the support structures they need, were given the support in a more centralised hub?” This space will deal with youth issues, helping to find jobs, setting up apprenticeships, mental health services, community facilities and accommodation. These facilities are thin and far between in Perth and Fremantle, especially for younger people. This proposal seeks to adapt the existing State and Fremantle Heritage Registered Woolstores Building on Cantonment Street in Fremantle. The existing structural grid is set at 4900 x 4200 intervals, perfect for a habitable room with circulation. The prefabricated floor and wall elements will be fixed within this system. The orientation of the built form is driven by a combination of the structural grid and maximises the amount of solar access each unit has, while also maximising amenity for the resident. Future SIPS (Structural Insulated Panel Systems) panels are speculative but have their basis in current and emerging technologies within the building industry. The “sandwich” panel are formed as cassettes, the insulative material is a mycelium-based composite made from timber waste products or a higher yielding material such as hemp. The insulation is enclosed in CLT (Cross Laminated Timber). The next layer is hempcrete, a lime based rammed hemp product, which is the finish face on the interior. On the exterior, a waterproof cover is attached, without glue, and clad in a corrugated hemp panel.

Image: Sectional perspective. 142


Image: (Top) Selected residential plans; (Bottom) Section. 144



ARCT5201 Detailed Design Studio Unit Coordinator: Andrea Quaglioa Studio Coordinator: Richard Simpson ‘Prefabricated Services CORE Housing’

ANTHONY MURPHY ‘North West House’

Good quality, efficient housing will play a key role in the growth and prosperity of indigenous communities across Australia. This project seeks to re-calibrate and improve upon the existing ‘project’ style housing forming much of Australia’s suburban landscape, to create better quality homes that are culturally sensitive, affordable and scalable. The design was informed by consultation with indigenous elders; revealing cultural traditions that require the separation of family members within a single dwelling; and in spite of the hot climate experienced in the north west of Western Australia, spending the majority of time outdoors is preferred. In response, three independent pavilions were placed below a parasol roof. Bedroom pavilions accessible via an external shaded walkway are positioned at each end of the central living pavilion. Blade walls extending out from the thresholds of the central pavilion provide separation from the front verandah, and two additional private shaded yarning spaces to the rear. The central, multipurpose communal pavilion houses a prefabricated services core built within a recycled 40ft high-cube shipping container. The design response takes inspiration from the works of Sean Godsell and Glenn Murcutt – specifically ideas around the parasol roof with pavilions below, sunscreening and rational spatial planning. The parasol roof reduces the heat load on the pavilions below, while allowing cooling breezes to pass through. The material palette is modest, low maintenance and will weather gracefully. The heavy rammed earth walls are counterbalanced by lightweight steel framed elements. The overall structure is softened by the use of timber battens as the parasol roof shading. In a similar vein to the Case Study houses of Los Angeles designed in the middle of last century, this project is intended to be repeatable, capable of mass production, and importantly act as a basis for further development. Image: Front elevation of North West House. 147

Image: (Left) Service core plan, floor plan, roof plan; (Centre) Yarning space; (Right) Circulation. 148


ARCT5521 Empowering Communities Through Design Unit Coordinator: Lara Camilla Pinho

SAM CARTER & ROHAN GOLESTANI; RIVA-JEAN LANDER, BRADLEY MILLIS, MATTHIAS WIDJAJA & JUNJIE ZHONG Sam Carter & Rohan Golestani ‘Empathy: Assistance with the Unfamiliar’ Empathy is the imaginative placement of ourselves into the experience of others. With empathy, imagination is necessary since it concerns situations absent of direct emotional stimulation to the self – the experience in question didn’t happen to us. To a huge extent our success in tackling societal problems depends upon the arousal of such an empathy. However, it requires great personal effort, drawing on our reserves of enthusiasm, time and emotional energy, as well as involving the complicating feature of our own life – our experiences, anxieties, assumptions, privilege and bias – which beset the path with imaginative obstacles. These cards assist. Riva-Jean Lander, Bradley Millis, Matthias Widjaja & Junjie Zhong ‘Superbia: A Framework for Unlocking the Potential within Our Suburbs’ The global pandemic, which spread across the world in 2020, forced employees to maintain safe distance and work from home. Reduced unnecessary travel, such as to and from workplaces, accounted for more than 50% of the global drop in CO2 emissions in 2020 (International Energy Agency, 2020). A New South Wales study found employees were interested in continuing to work remotely 2–3 days a week (NSW Innovation and Productivity Council, 2020). Despite positive environmental effects and increasing popularity of hybrid models of remote work, there are issues people face working away from the office and colleagues. We address these constraints and propose design solutions to improve suburbs’ everyday liveability.

Image: Empathy: Assistance With The Unfamiliar by Sam Carter & Rohan Golestani. 150


Image: Superbia: A Framework for Unlocking the Potential within Our Suburbs by Riva-Jean Lander, Bradley Millis, Matthias Widjaja & Junjie Zhong . 152


ARCT5583 Introduction to Architectural Conservation Unit Coordinator: Dr Ingrid van Bremen Teaching Assistant: Kyra Lomas


‘Assessing Proposals for Redevelopment of the Hackett Memorial Buildings Group’ “In this unit students are provided with hypothetical proposals for the refurbishment or reuse of heritage buildings, to enable them to demonstrate their understanding of conservation principles and the regulatory frameworks that apply in evaluating the impact of new work upon the existing structures and/or their contexts. This semester, students responded to hypothetical scenarios involving the Hackett Memorial Buildings on the Crawley Campus including one that involved the idea of inserting additional functional areas within Winthrop Hall.” Proposal A: Redevelop the interior of Winthrop Hall by inserting an additional level to provide a lecture theatre space and offices. Winthrop Hall is identified as being of exceptional significance, and the most significant element of the Hackett Memorial Buildings group. This is primarily due to its aesthetic and social value, and to a lesser extent its historic and scientific values. Its aesthetic value is largely derived from its monumentality, well-planned layout, fine detailing, craftsmanship, artworks, and soundscape. The social value largely stems from the building’s continuous use as an emblem of the University and as its primary ceremonial hall, being more familiar with the UWA community than any other building for its long-term association with graduation 154

ceremonies. It is held in high regard by the UWA community and also holds considerable social value to the broader Perth community for its use hosting large non-university events. As such, the 2021 Conservation Plan Revision advises a number of requirements for changes to Winthrop Hall to retain significance. These are: - That work on Winthrop Hall should be to enable continued use in its original function. - That work should maintain the aesthetic experience and long-term compatible UWA uses. - That nothing should diminish Winthrop Hall’s dominance and significance as a local landmark. - That interior work should employ sandfinished render and paint-finished plaster walls, timber skirting and architraves are important elements of the group and should be evoked in alterations. - That demolition should not occur under any circumstance. The most feasible placement of an additional floor in the void would be at the level of the perimeter walkway below the large vertical windows. The 11’ (3.35m) height from the existing hall floor to the perimeter walkway floor level leaves just enough ceiling height below the new floor after subtracting the space needed for the floor structure and services. This arrangement would involve the new office space and lecture theatre programs occupying the new lower space while the ceremonial hall programme occupies the upper volume. While the low ceiling is not ideal for a lecture theatre program, placement any higher would interfere with the major windows to such a degree as to be a worse outcome. However, were this modification to be pursued, structural analysis would be necessary by a qualified engineer to determine

Image: Winthrop Hall colonnade in sunlight demonstrating effect of reflecting pool, 27 April 2016. Photography by Adrian Kinny.


whether the existing structure has the capacity to support an additional level. Assuming that it does, interfacing between the old and new fabric would still require major alteration of significant fabric in a way that would be unlikely to be reversible. Redeveloping the interior by inserting an additional level would have an adverse impact on the significance of Winthrop Hall and the Hackett Memorial Buildings group as it would negatively affect the aesthetic, social and historic value of the building. The aesthetic value of the Hall would be adversely impacted in a number of ways. Firstly, it would affect the progression into the Hall. Currently, the linear, upward progression through the Great Archway, into the foyer, past columns and mosaics and up steps before culminating in the bright, open, vast hall is a key element of the design. Adding an additional floor would require major changes to this circulatory progression to reach the now-higher ceremonial hall space, which would inherently compromise this effect. Secondly, it would have a negative impact by hiding artwork and detailing. Bisecting the space would necessarily hide much of the artwork, craftsmanship and detailing on the many decorated surfaces, through both artistic elements now located in the new office space program being hidden from view when using the ceremonial hall, and by hiding elements permanently behind the new floor structure causing them to be invisible from either program. Finally, it would negatively impact the acoustic value. Reducing the volume of the ceremonial hall space would increase the sonic reflections and reverberation, notably that from the organ, decreasing the perceivable quality of the sound. Additionally, the acoustic quality might be reduced by introduction of new noise pollution from the office space and lecture theatre program spilling over into the ceremonial hall space. The social value of the hall would also be majorly 156

damaged. Currently, the hall holds value for its intergenerational continued use of the space. In largely its current form, it has been used for nearly 90 years to serve the functions of hosting graduation ceremonies and large events. Using the building for office space would lessen the value grown through multiple generations of UWA and local community use, negatively impacting significance. Secondly, it would have an impact on the function of the Hall’s ability to host such graduations and large events. The Hall would lose some of the impression created by its scale and interior, as well as the aforementioned impact on the progression impacting the use in said ceremonies, negatively affecting graduations held there. Finally, it would impact Winthrop Hall’s value as a symbol of the University. New use for office spaces would devalue the perceived importance of the Hall, and as it is a symbol of the University, devalue the importance of the University itself. This is especially notable as the office space program dictates daily use as opposed to being reserved for special occasions. This effect of reduction in perceived importance would be compounded by the loss of aesthetic value, which through its function as a symbol of the University, corresponds to a further reduction in perceived importance of the University itself. The historic value of the hall would also be adversely affected. Historic value as an accessible example of interwar period Mediterranean-style architecture would be reduced by structural modification, as well as a weakening of the connection to its designers Alsop, Sayce and Benson, and a change to the otherwise-continuous use. The ICOMOS Burra Charter (2013) states that: (7.1) Where the use of a place is of cultural significance it should be retained.; and (7.2) A place should have a compatible use.

The use of the Hall in hosting graduation ceremonies and large events is of cultural significance and would be altered by the introduction of an office space program. Additionally, use for office space is not a compatible use. The Hall is designed and has facilities suitable to hosting large, intermittent events, not daily use in an office environment, which requires different facilities and services. The Charter also states: (15.2) Changes which reduce cultural significance should be reversible, and be reversed when circumstances permit.; (15.3) Demolition of significant fabric of a place is generally not acceptable. However, in some cases minor demolition may be appropriate as part of conservation. Removed significant fabric should be reinstated when circumstances permit.; (21.1) Adaptation is acceptable only where the adaptation has minimal impact on the cultural significance of the place.; (21.2) Adaptation should involve minimal change to significant fabric, achieved only after considering alternatives.; and (22.1) New work such as additions or other changes to the place may be acceptable where it respects and does not distort or obscure the cultural significance of the place, or detract from its interpretation and appreciation. Installation of a large new floor supported by the extant structure would likely require major alteration to significant fabric in a way that is unlikely to be wholly reversible. As seen earlier, adaptation would have a major impact on the cultural significance of the place. It would distort and obscure the cultural significance and detract from its appreciation and interpretation. Finally, alternative approaches to adding additional office and lecture theatre space to

the campus do not appear to have been considered. Structural advice from a qualified structural engineer would need to be obtained prior to potential implementation of this proposal. The capacity of the existing structure to carry the loads involved in installation of an additional floor is unknown, as well as other structural implications the new program and corresponding required services may have. Finally, it is notable that alterations of this nature would require elements of the building be made to comply with contemporary Australian Standards. This is typically difficult to achieve on buildings of this age, and likely requires alteration of significant fabric, if it is possible to achieve at all. As discussed prior, this is an unacceptable outcome. In conclusion, this proposal is not recommended. It would have an adverse effect on the exceptional cultural significance of Winthrop Hall and the Hackett Memorial Buildings group through reducing the key aesthetic and social values, as well as through alteration of significant fabric. The ICOMOS Burra Charter indicates that this is an unacceptable outcome. Instead, for the purpose of generating additional office and lecture theatre spaces for the University, alternative solutions might be pursued. With regards to office spaces, a number of these are assessed in proposal B, although the conclusion that a better outcome would be to place this outside the Hackett Memorial Buildings group entirely is also applicable here. Proposals for locating additional lecture theatre spaces for the University may follow similar reasoning, although at a larger and less flexible scale and arrangement. Alternatively, the necessity of additional lecture theatre spaces may be reconsidered, given the contemporary trend towards increasing online viewing of lectures, which may be performed without such spaces, or at smaller scales.


ARCT5595 Digital Design Journal Unit Coordinator: Rene Van Meeuwen Teaching Staff: Dr Daniel Grinceri


‘Why Polar Bears are Depressed’ Architecture cannot mimic drastically different environments in a practical way, and this is illustrated through the treatment of various captive animals and their enclosures. Megafauna such as polar bears are housed in subpar conditions because these unique species are the ‘exhibits’ the public wants to see the most, despite architecture being unable to provide an adequate habitat. PGAV’s ‘Polar Bear Point’ (2013), attempts to humanely exhibit polar bears to the public at the Saint Louis Zoo by mimicking their native habitat. To pay homage to the bears’ native environment, PGAV imitates the glaciers of the Arctic with large carved rocks jutting out of the ground in an abstract fashion. The exhibit ‘transitions seamlessly from sea to coastline to land’, enabling the polar bears to be stimulated in various ways by rotating through the different ‘zones’ of the enclosure. The bears can swim in the ‘sea’ and dig along the ‘coast,’ thus using their natural instincts in an unnatural environment. Despite PGAV’s efforts to display the animals compassionately, ‘Polar Bear Point’ has failed the bears, due to being unable to match the cold Arctic weather. The average temperature in Saint Louis is 27 degrees Celsius in the warmer months, and 0 degrees in the cooler periods. Saint Louis is not a particularly warm city, however, these temperatures are far higher than what the polar bear is acclimated to in its native habitat, where the annual average temperature is -3 degrees. 158

Architecture will never be able to mimic these temperatures, despite the thoughtful reference to glaciers and the Arctic. Polar bears’ highly evolved sense of smell means they can sniff out their prey from more than one kilometre away and through one metre of snow. Patiently, they stalk their pray, lying low until they can strike at close range. In captivity, polar bears are denied the opportunity to engage in this instinctual behaviour. To capitalise on the attraction of megafauna, ‘Polar Bear Point’ has expansive viewing areas throughout the enclosure. Despite the design of varying environments for the bears, the requirement of the animals to be displayed at all times goes against their natural instincts to hide while stalking their pray. Architecture has failed these polar bears resulting in a decline in cognitive function and suffering for the animals involved. Captive polar bears display peculiar behaviours such as pacing and swimming in repetitive patterns, both used as coping mechanisms. Laurel Braitman noted that pharmaceuticals had been prescribed to alleviate these behaviours, many bears being prescribed Prozac, an anti-depressant. However, the public is not without blame: if there was not an expectation for the bears to be displayed at all times, would they be less despondent? ‘Polar Bear Point,’ is not alone in its’ exhibition of animals, and this realisation highlights the overarching problem of zoos: the widespread perception that the public’s interests override the innate needs of the animals displayed. Architecture is not solely to blame for the decline of the polar bears’ health, however, even if improvements to the exhibit and public expectations of a zoo were to be made, the overarching result is that architecture will always fail these animals.

Image: Audiences gather around Inuka, easily spotted due to expansive floor to ceiling windows, directly going against his natural instincts of hiding while stalking prey. “Inuka Swims in his Enclosure.” 2014.


ARCT3000 Architecture Studio 3 Unit and Studio Coordinator: Kirill de Lancastre Jedenov ‘South Kitchen Manifesto’


Manifesto for a new architecture: We have been wrong to shape Australia by imposing non-native species to make it ‘habitable’. It is habitable already. We must look closer at what is around us and eliminate the idea that our native crops are undesirable to create new Australian cuisines that harness the unique qualities of our land. Like our food, we must also apply this way of thinking to our architecture. Too often are materials and entire buildings discarded because they are considered undesirable. We must change what we consider to be “worthy architecture” and give new life to existing spaces and recycled materials to establish a new Australian architectural vernacular. My project proposes a test kitchen and restaurant that investigates the potential for native Australian cuisine and other avenues of experimental gastronomy. By using recycled brick arranged in different patterns, the architecture aims to assert that local discarded materials have new possibility for reuse.

Image: KITCHEN 32 sections. 160


Image: (Left) KITCHEN 32 detailed section; (Right) Axonometric perspective. 162



ARCT3000 Architecture Studio 3 Unit Coordinator: Kirill de Lancastre Jedenov Studio Coordinator: Stephen Thick ‘New Archive’

SARAH WONG ‘Soane Archive’

Archives, museums and libraries perpetuate canons of knowledge; as an institution, they hold immense power over the collective psyche, defining views on culture and beauty. This project brief called for both a considered curation of artefacts – paintings, architectural drawings, models, sculptures and antiques – from the John Soane Museum collection in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, London, and a design strategy of specificity for exhibition spaces. Subverting traditional artefact curation and exhibition practices, Soane Archive proposes an unconventional approach to communicating historical narratives. A labyrinth of space arranges artefacts according to physical or qualitative attributes, rather than chronology or geography, presenting an ‘anti-narrative’. The original brick façade is cladded with thin granite panels, creating a quality of light within that is diffuse, owing to the sensitivity of some artefacts, as well as multilayered and intriguing from the exterior. At the building’s core is the main exhibition space, which is monumental in scale and houses an abundance of stimuli. Its relative chaos is mediated with smaller, more focused spaces of calm and contemplation. As a result, the overall experience is dynamic, balanced and engaging. Visitors are transformed from mere observers to active participants, encouraged to move through the exhibitions at their own discretion, forming their own thematic links and critiques when encountering, and re-encountering, spaces and the artefacts within them.

Image: Site information and facade. 165

Image: Composite drawing. 166


ARCT3010 History and Theories of the Built Environment Unit Coordinator: Dr William (Bill) M Taylor Teaching Associates: Joely-Kym Sobott & Dr Daniel Grinceri

CASSANDRA SHALLCROSS ‘Fremantle Heritage Adjacent’

I live in central Fremantle, or Walyalup, in what was a 1930’s foundry before it was converted into apartments in 1990. Developments like these became the first wave of trendy deindustrialisation, which brought young middleclass, residential migration to Fremantle. The heritage structure has retained its brick facade, now painted a bright, neon white, which naturally appears as a canvas to people wielding aerosol cans. As cyclical as this process of development and graphic ‘appropriation’ can be, the events following are equally as predictable. Our strata representative, a middle-aged, professional named Jane, visits all other tenants to find out if anyone saw her faceless enemies who take a presumptive shape when conversations tend to the speculative. She conjures the picture, based on assumption, of certain low socio-economic groups who could be, but often aren’t, to blame for the graffiti. I sympathise with Jane’s enemies, as the process that has recently brought middle class migration into central Fremantle, myself included, has created this mild form of classwarfare. Sentiments in the journal, City: analysis of urban trends, culture, theory, policy, action, are relevant in Fremantle: “Both graffiti writing and the efforts to eradicate it have plenty to teach us about contemporary processes of urbanisation and struggles over the right to the city”.1 168

The area just east of the West End historic district has received $270 million for the Kings Square renewal, for development aimed at “urban rejuvenation” or “gentrification” based on the aestheticised picture of Fremantle’s heritage.2 This is the picture Jane and I have invested in. It is a lovely picture. It is also a construction of place marketing, brandished by an economically empowered few, and based on the romanticised architecture of our dark, colonial past. We are also sold the culture of Fremantle, originally manifest by diversity, the “creative class”3 and long-time residents, who will ultimately lose out in this process. The long-time, and typically, low-income residents of Fremantle, in any of its historical iterations since 1829, have formed and built the narrative that developers sell today. I will argue that the contemporary low-income resident of Fremantle is not granted any of the benefits that are typically used in arguments favouring gentrification. Given that the value of the nostalgic representation of Fremantle is based on it being a “people’s city… worker’s paradise”4, the profit, tangible or not, stays within the well-connected world of developers and local politics. While conserving heritage buildings in Fremantle is essential, I believe greater transparency is required, particularly in political representation, about who is really profiting from their claim to heritage. Moreover, the more modern high-density residential developments, aimed at rejuvenating “a city in decline”5, and the exorbitant rents they command, exacerbate the economic disparity of the city. Redevelopment in Fremantle’s centre involves a process of “othering”, whereby investing enormous reserves of capital also creates a serious deficiency in affordable housing and community services. The multi-storey developments that have accompanied what might be called the “heritagisation”6 of Fremantle are providing means for middle-class migration,

Image: Old Wool Store building, by PurpleLorikeet (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0).


challenging the unique identity of the city by displacing people who cannot keep up with violent increases in the cost of living. The nexus between the commodification of heritage and community is examined here through assessing the impacts on existing residents who are promised the “trickledown” effects of investment and contrasting reality with promises made. The preservation of an iconographical and idealised built representation of Fremantle creates a narrative that excludes major Fremantle communities. In the urban renewal of a geographic area through historical narrative, it is clear that certain groups possess greater power than others. The impact is manifest in large scale, luxury residential developments in Fremantle, marketed toward wealthy tenants, which flush out groups that have been unjustly, politically naturalised as problematic in the area. In Fremantle, the process of recapitalisation based on heritage is most observable in the Wool Stores. One historic store, the Dalgety, has been converted into luxury apartments, while another, Elder’s, has been left in a state of half decay. Both are remnants of the commercial past of the port. The process of “othering” is more obvious here than in the picturesque heritage district of the West End. Where the West End has its history rooted in the 19th century, the East End is a relic of the 20th. In the local newspaper, the Fremantle Herald, many open letters from residents are in protest of the appearance of the Elder Wool Store. They complain about the broken windows and graffiti, but the scene is rendered complete and enlivened by mention of the “skateboarders” and “vagrants”7. In this instance, the monetary value of history in heritage architecture, solely from a developer’s point of view, is shown as inconsistent and shallow. Where the “Heirloom by Match” apartments in the adaptive re-use of the Dalgety Wool Store share a 170

history with the Elder Store, the beatified version of their story is appreciated only in its application to luxury housing. Meanwhile, in letters to the Herald, the Elder Store precinct raises questions: “…When is someone going to be down to tidy up that corner of town?”.8 I propose that some sentiments in favour of restoring older buildings in Fremantle are less about the value of their history, and more about the threat posed to middle-class values when a sector of the residential population is confronted by street art and broken windows. In this way, gentrification in Fremantle is loaded with prejudice and exclusion. Historical associations in the built environment can translate financially as investment, but as seen in the case of the Wool stores, the value is not inherent. Rather, it is constructed. The construction of this history relies on marketing a re-imaged, inner city lifestyle. Once luxury is assured, the darker history of unemployment and poverty accompanying the containerisation of the port and the decline of the once booming wool industry is more or less whitewashed, transformed into a nostalgic tale of “the workers’ city”. It is presupposed by those in positions of power that in attracting the super-wealthy, all “less fortunate” people will garner the benefits. This cannot be true in our society, where generational disadvantage and institutional prejudice is widening the wealth gap. The wealth of the top 20% of incomes in Australia has grown 68% in the last 15 years, where the bottom 20% has increased just 6%.9 As economic disparity grows, so will the need for affordable housing. The conservation of heritage buildings that were created by diversity should reflect and accommodate people from a variety of social and economic backgrounds. The benefits of gentrification based on the heritagisation of the Fremantle CBD should extend to all, not just developers and homeowners.

The process of urban revitalisation in the East End of Fremantle has not benefitted its residents equally. Nor has it benefitted any of its residents in a way that is comparable to how it has showered dividends for those developing the district. Increased police presence, which targets vagrancy disproportionately in people who appear “out of place” in a gentrifying neighbourhood, is one example of how the local government is inadvertently clearing out and “othering” populations who need welfare, not new council offices. Heritage will always be at the forefront of discussion about Fremantle’s future developments. This shows a great understanding of the human context of the city. However, this humanity is somehow lost in the nexus between heritage and the economy. We must recognise the people who created the history we are re-colonising, and ensure the rewards reach those most vulnerable in our society. Investment in Fremantle is not a bad thing, but when dealing with a city’s unique character and protecting a population of lowincome people, more transparency is required in local politics. This means recognising that the trickle-down theory of gentrification and its economic benefits (in growing prosperity, increased jobs and incomes, etc.) is not the basis for an egalitarian policy or urban development, and that developers will be the immediate winners. The opposite of gentrification is not decline. Money moves far more violently and selectively than is necessary or desirable owing to some urban processes, like the one Fremantle is undergoing currently. The history of the area and the claims to its heritage are being appropriated and colonised by the middle-class under the guise of benefiting the existing community. As it is becoming more obvious that those existing residents are largely displaced by this process, it is convenient for the local government and developers to ignore the

pressing need for affordable housing. As residents, our appreciation of heritage architecture and the need to conserve it will only grow, but so should our awareness of how it can be used to house and help those affected by heritagisation and gentrification.

Endnotes 1. Kurt Iveson, “Graffiti, Street Art And The City”, City: Analysis Of Urban Change, Theory, Action,14, no. 1-2 (2010): 25-32, doi:10.1080/13604811003638320. 2. Helen Shield, “Freo Stakes Future On $270M Kings Square Revamp”, The West Australian, 2017, business/commercial-property/freo-stakes-future-on-270mkings-square-revamp-ng-b88580169z. 3. David C. Harvey, “Heritage Pasts And Heritage Presents: Temporality, Meaning And The Scope Of Heritage Studies”, International Journal Of Heritage Studies, 7, no. 4 (2001): 319338, doi:10.1080/13581650120105534. 4. Ron Davidson and Dianne Davidson, Fighting For Fremantle: The Fremantle Society Story (Fremantle, WA: Fremantle Press, 2010). 5. Ron Davidson and Dianne Davidson, Fighting For Fremantle: The Fremantle Society Story (Fremantle, WA: Fremantle Press, 2010). 6. Lynn Meskell, “Heritage, Gentrification, Participation: Remaking Urban Landscapes In The Name Of Culture And Historic Preservation”, International Journal Of Heritage Studies, 25, no. 9 (2018): 996-998, doi:10.1080/13527258.20 18.1542334. 7. Steve Grant, “Crime Spikes In East End”, Fremantle Herald Interactive, 2014, crime-spikes-in-east-end/. 8. H. Lund, “Three Things”, Fremantle Herald, 2004. 9. “New Research Highlights Risk Of COVID Pandemic Increasing Inequality”, Australian Council Of Social Service, 2020,



ARCT3050 Active Matter Unit Coordinator: Santiago Perez


‘Robotic x Gyroid x Casting’ This form is developed by using a Gyroid grid, digitally using Rhinoceros 3D. It is brought to a physical form by hot-wiring XPS foam blocks by a URS5E robot and then casted with grout. Variation is parametrically created, which can then be manufactured physically. The structure uses a metal mesh and a bolt joinery system, which mimics real life production.

Image: Final Variations. Photography by Samantha Dye. 173

Image: (Left) Foam, robotics, tools, mother moulds; casting process; joints; (Right) Detail of Final Variations. Photography by Samantha Dye. 174


ARCT2000 Architecture Studio 2 Unit and Studio Coordinator: Lara Camilla Pinho ‘Homelessness: An investigation into housing as a resource available to all’


‘Plant-in-a-pot Co-living’ Plant-in-a-box Co-living aims to give people a fresh start, who are escaping from trauma of the past; therefore, senses of familiarity and opportunity are highly needed. Firstly, materiality, the project reuses the brickwork from the current building, which would be dismantled and recycled, so that it can give a sensation of familiarity and ever-lastingness. This is what most of the current residents demanded. Furthermore, the existing element of vegetation is kept and continues overflowing into the courtyards, creating a forest within the building. A slight “ripple” effect is also added into the shape of the courtyard so from up high the subtle built form can be observed as slightly transforming into an organic heart of the building. This project was further reinforced by the idea of the seven elements of wellness: spiritual, physical, occupational, emotional, intellectual, spiritual and social. To pursue that idea, the building provides sustainable living, which includes farming facilities such as mushrooms, aquaponics and wicking beds – all using recycled energy – reducing the cost of the building, as well as providing residents with occupational opportunities and exposure to nature. The division of living areas into three strips connected by small corridors that overlook courtyards, aims to increase circulation and create retreats, allowing for physical and mental safety and ease of communication. Also, the strips facilitate space for recreation, work, and consultation, ensuring the elements of wellness listed above. Ultimately, the living complex hopes to create a fresh start, nurturing its residents, which lives up to the project’s name, visualising a vigorous life-source of a plant growing out of its pot.

Image: Axonometric diagram of internal courtyard. 176


Image: (Left) Ground floor plan; (Centre) First/second floor; (Right) Sections. 178



ARCT2000 Architecture Studio 2 Unit Coordinator: Lara Camilla Pinho Studio Coordinator: Jessica Mountain ‘The Freo Alternative’


‘15 and 17 Gibson Street, Beaconsfield’ The project is a response to the planning guides laid out by the Fremantle Alternative. The policy seeks to introduce a mid-tier of housing to supplement the existing housing market. As part of the development of the policy, an extensive community engagement program was conducted to gauge what the community wanted from the new developments. Among others, communal space was the primary response, thus it formed the backbone of this proposal. The natural slope of the terrain was utilised to introduce two primary levels across the sight emphasized by both digging down and building up. The arrangements of the buildings themselves are intended to both enclose the central space imparting a sense of intimacy, but also to catch the northern sunlight to passively light the buildings. In total the proposal intends to prioritise the communities’ desire for creating communal space, and in doing so, drawing from the features of the site itself.

Image: Street level site plan. 181

Image: (Top Left) Section 1, north-south cut; (Bottom Left) Section 2, east-west cut; (Right) Details of models. Photography by Samantha Dye. 182


ARCT2000 Architecture Studio 2 Unit Coordinator: Lara Camilla Pinho Studio Coordinator: Tasmin Vivian-Williams ‘Homelessness: An investigation into housing as a resource available to all’

GHIM CHONG TAN ‘Home for Rough Sleepers’

For this project, I recommended a sustainable and affordable design for vulnerable people that balanced proper function of space and the feeling of safety, comfort and belonging. After conducting research and analysis, I concluded that homeless shelters today lack a form of community within their premises. Having a community is important as it builds a person’s identity and having a home usually comes with having an identity; being in an unfamiliar place can give off the feeling of hostility. In this case, I designed a residential area where rough sleepers and other stakeholders can easily mingle and communicate with each other in their desired space. The place therefore gives the vulnerable choices, freedom and comfort, allowing them to communicate by their own choice. The materials I used are affordable, sustainable and flexible, and exert a feeling of warmth. Having a flexible material allows for future expansion and mitigates construction waste. The materials I chose are prefabricated materials like timber housing. Other materials such as wood and vinyl can radiate a warm ambiance that allows the rough sleepers to feel more welcome to the space. Typologies consist of shipping containers stacked irregularly in clusters; each cluster represents a small village, a family or a group. Each cluster surrounds a hub where it provides services and communal spaces and is enclosed by the environment. The staggering stacks on the modular housing create balconies on top of each other and gaps for landscape to penetrate in and create a restorative space for the rough sleepers. Each apartment is surrounded by greenery and nourishing sunlight. Clusters intermingle with other clusters through daily activities in the hubs, such as doing laundry, visiting communal spaces, attending classes and even going to the library. Each cluster includes a living room, shared kitchen and a small garden. The rough sleepers can explore the spaces to understand their psychological wellbeing within a comfortable environment.

Image: Perspective collage. 184


Image: (Left) Housing programme diagrams; (Centre) Ground floor plan; (Right) Second floor plan. 186


ARCT2010 Parallel Modernities in Art and Architecture Unit Coordinator: Dr Nigel Westbrook Teaching Associate: Sally Farrah


‘Structuralism and utopia: a changing ideal’ The integration of Structuralism within architecture creates form in regard to the movements’ anthropological and linguistic roots, facilitating an interchange of ideas based on language and behavioural patterns. Two concepts arise from this: the design of an environment that perfectly responds to its users, a utopia that has difficulty asserting its universality against the second concept, the perpetual reconceiving of what constitutes a perfect society. For architecture to be enduring, it must perhaps be characterised by a flexibility and almost an anonymity, as we see in the works of Herman Hertzberger and CandilisJosic-Woods. It gives hierarchical emphasis to transitionary spaces – thresholds, passages of circulation, etc. – and allow users to become part of its expressiveness. These zones come to mediate polarised ideals: the individual and collective, nature and culture, and freedom and control, which act as surrogates for the most compelling divide in post-war architecture and culture, East and West. The siting of Candilis-Josic-Woods’ Berlin Free University (BFU) reinforces the city’s identity as the site of confrontation between America and the Soviet Union, whose sense of utopianism was defined against the perceived dystopia of the other. Occupying an ambiguous alliance between the United States and Russia’s ideologies is Hertzberger’s Centraal Beheer offices in the Netherlands. Hertzberger designs with elements 188

that have faint socialist markings – for instance, polyvalent working cubicles, and transparency between office spaces that engender community – within a commercial brief. In these designs, we see democratic European states trying to find a cultural identity in between binaries, and in doing so, forging a participatory urban form. Candilis-Josic-Woods’ architecture presents an ambiguous cultural identity, introducing the possibility of a natural one, as they subvert the customary progression from natural to built landscape. Le Corbusier’s influence can be detected in their roof gardens, which invert the idea that architecture is built atop the natural world, and is therefore a separate entity from it. One accesses these gardens from external staircases, a transference of internal design to the outside, which is paralleled at Centraal Beheer. Again, Candilis-Josic-Woods are occupied with the idea of constructing a total landscape, one that embraces both the ‘space that is made, and space left over’1 as intentional parts of design. However, inherent in the phrase ‘landscape design’, is a level of moderation, evident in Woods’ attitude that ‘one must also be modest with green spaces in cities,’2 or interpreted another way, culture’s power to overtake nature. But again, this is not so straightforward, as nature is self-enduring, whereas architecture is a product of the culture, and so relies on the impossibility of it staying the same. To what extent then, does urbanisation obscure the utopia that is pure natural form? The aesthetic character of BFU also becomes entangled in this idea as rooftop gardens make greenery almost ornamental. This is an interesting take on the issue of ornament, which was denigrated as gaudy pre-war, and became almost immoral in the post-war climate. Modernism sought an honesty in expression of form, a shift that interestingly coincided with greater

Image: Master plan for Berlin Free University, drawing, Candilis Josic Woods (1963).


construction technologies, which freed the façade from structural responsibilities. Central to the perceived problems of ornament was its proneness to obsolescence, making its extravagance seem especially wasteful. Candilis-Josic-Woods were critical of the soullessness of the cities this approach created,3 and both contemporised and humanised ornament. Just as Hertzberger leans on structuralism’s connection to anthropology, Candilis-Josic-Woods draw from its linguistic origins to reintroduce language into architectural expression. Human interaction becomes communicative of the wider social atmosphere, in a way that ornament had formerly been, and is uniquely able to adapt to its changes. This concept is represented in the colour scheme of BFU, wherein colours come to identify the different disciplines in their integrated groupings. Therefore, one of Candilis-JosicWoods’ more explicit expressions of ornament, symbolises a more subtle one – human dialogue. It also becomes part of an organisational system, placing the individual among the collective in a sensitive way, so that the former is not lost. Their arrangement around a wide communal corridor, from which they are accessed (almost a plaza), creates opportunities for spontaneous exchanges, and points to a belief that a successful architecture is one that is always in use. Structuralist architecture therefore has a somewhat anonymous aesthetic identity, instead being ‘about keeping people together’ who then come to complete that aesthetic. The loss of ornament in Hertzberger’s design, creates a visual fluency from inside to outside, inviting communication between the people occupying both spaces. The vertically stacked windows invite the outsider to observe the inside and vice versa, and therefore humans assume an ornamental position, as they fill the glass canvas. 190

“For architecture to be enduring, it must perhaps be characterised by a flexibility and almost an anonymity, as we see in the works of Herman Hertzberger and Candilis-JosicWoods.”

This canvas is illuminated by natural light that reaches into the building from ceiling windows, another invitation to the natural world. In doing this, Hertzberger associates his design with a concept of transparency, which bleeds into the issue of architecture’s engineering of society, and can be read as a rejection of that approach to design. This is significant within the Netherlands at the time, which naturally leant towards a socialist philosophy, but seeing its corruption in the Soviet Union, was politically aligned with the US. The glass windows of Centraal Beheer signify inclusivity in a way that earlier American skyscrapers did not – being relatively low-rise, they are at a human scale, and thus a proximity is forged by the feasibility of access. Transparency is continued internally, and has the effect of removing a hierarchical order, which speaks to architecture’s ability to actively make an impression on culture. All cubicle spaces are open, and visual and auditory contact therefore becomes public, setting a standard for modes of behaviour, while also encouraging greater productivity through such surveillance. The openness of the plan leads into Hertzberger’s interest in the place-making of intermediary zones, as articulation from one place to another is lessened. The notion of circulation becomes almost a double entendre, being both a literal means to a destination, and also a meeting place at which ideas circulate. If anything, it is the circulation that is given hierarchical precedence, as it is the only static element to the design.

Endnotes 1. Roger Vailland and Shadrach Woods, “Conversation on Urbanism,” Perspecta 11 (1967): 57. 2. Vailland & Woods, “Conversations on Urbanism,” 57. 3. Georges Candilis, Alexis Josic, and Shadrach Woods, “Project for the Free University of Berlin,” Ekistics 18, 108 (1964): 370.


ARCT2030 Materials and Small Constructions Unit Coordinator: Emiliano Roia


‘Analysis of the Building Systems’ This unit aims to develop students’ ability to critically observe and analyse smallscale contemporary buildings. Through studies of the relationships between technology and design, the unit presents various Construction Systems and building materials. By using a methodological approach based on analytical drawings/diagrams, the unit also aims to teach the act of drawing by hand as a way of thinking rather than just representation. The analytical drawings aim to reveal the underlying patterns of organisation that exist within buildings (e.g. Structure), in order to highlight the relationship between design and construction systems. Through highly selective drawings, the analysis is devoted to simplifying and clarifying some of the Construction Systems that define a building. The unit also studies construction techniques, building materials, structure and site-works for small/medium scale buildings. The unit introduces some structural systems and behaviour, looks at the various parts of buildings, and concentrates on how technology informs and influences the places and spaces of the built environment. The unit places particular emphasis on the relationship between technology and design, which in my teaching experience, is often perceived as two separate architectural issues. Students are asked to analyse four (4) contemporary houses (or small buildings) from a list of case studies, which use different construction techniques. The result of this study will be displayed and submitted in a hand drawn A4 booklet. List of the selected case studies: 1. Corral Sculpture Workshop, S. Radic; 2. Casa Solo, Pezo Von Ellrichhausen; 3. Crucifixion Chapel, S. Radic; 4. Vatican Chapel, E.S. de Moura.

Image: Elevation & section; and building typology. 192


Image: Building typology & structural parts; materials and internal finishing strategy; and structural pattern. 194



ARCT1001 Architecture Studio 1 Unit and Studio Coordinator: Dr Philip Goldswain ‘Fire! Civic Architecture in the Age of Pyrocene, 2.0’


‘Project 1: Drill & Training Tower; Project 2: Daglish 1st Fire Station, Shenton Park’ Dorothy Lane ‘The Corkscrew, the Step’ Given the site of Daglish First Fire Station located in Shenton Park, we were assigned two projects, which comprised the designing of a new drill and training tower and a fire station proper. The design process for the tower involved in-depth discussion, identification, modelling and iterative testing of vertical typologies and stair types, which resulted in the selection of the ‘Corkscrew’ typology. From the training tower, select elements of space and form were then carried across to inform our decisions in designing the fire station itself. Again, through iterative testing and the exploration of typologies, I chose the ‘Step’ typology for my fire station. The ‘Corkscrew’ is expressed by the circulation being thinly articulated around the exterior of the tower with a solid central core and the Step typology can be identified throughout the fire station. Masonry, as an expressive material of mass was also chosen across both projects. Keali Pyvis ‘The Corkscrew, and the “El”’. We were tasked with reimagining the site of the Daglish Fire Station by designing a new drill tower and fire station. Beginning with the drill tower, I chose to use a corkscrew typology to drive the design process, emphasising these characteristics with a ribbon of staircase around a central tower. In both the ribbon and the internal tower, I used thin masonry walls with large voids so they read as mass until entered. The second portion of the project was to design a new fire station, adhering strictly to a typology and bringing forward an element of our tower into the design. I opted to continue with the interplay between thick and thin, giving my fire station a “big roof”, which slots onto the thinner walls of the base like a lid, along with an “El” typology, which is clearly visible in the building’s orientation. Image: Keali Pyvis. (Left) The Corkscrew, expanded isometric of Drill & Training Tower; (Right) The “El”, expanded isometric of Daglish 1st Fire Station, Shenton Park. 197

Image: Dorothy Lane. (Left) The Corkscrew, expanded isometric of Drill & Training Tower; (Right) The Step, expanded isometric of Daglish 1st Fire Station, 198

Shenton Park. 199

Architecture & Landscape Architecture

Image: ARLA1040 Techniques of Visualisation display. Cullity Gallery, 2021 Winter Collective Exhibition opening night, 10 June 2021. Photography by 200

Samantha Dye. 201

ARLA1000 Design Studio - Groundings Unit Coordinator: Emily Van Eyk Studio Coordinators: Emily Van Eyk & Frances Silberstein ‘A Food Landscape’


‘Sunset Heritage Precinct and its Materials (Timber Pavilion)’ In Marc-Antoine Laugier’s theoretical concept of the Primitive Hut (in: Essai sur l’architecture) the relationship between humans and their natural environment serves as a basis for the creation of architecture. According to his ideal of the built environment, architecture should respond to its spatial, social and ecological context in a natural and intrinsic way. Taking up on this theoretical concept, the proposed design project Timber Pavilion engages with its natural environment (Otto Point Reserve at Sunset Heritage Precinct, Perth) by not only evaluating the characteristics of the landscape carefully, but by also using the given materials found on the site to create a new piece of architecture. The theorized installation of my proposal includes the construction of a tasting, preparation and production area, using previously built and newly assembled architecture to ultimately give the once abandoned site a new purpose. The technical construction of the Timber Pavilion is able to carefully adapt to natural or climate changes of the site. Operable timber screens on the roof and sides of the Pavilion can be opened and closed depending on fluctuating weather conditions. The connected pathway elongates into a jetty, offering (similar to the Timber Pavilion) operable timber platforms, which can be unfolded and extended while in use. In addition to the versatile tasting and production area, a rather static but simple concrete platform serves as a preparation area for this food landscape. The design proposal highly encourages its user to engage with the given environment at the Sunset Heritage Precinct. Leaving little impact on the site itself, this project creates ultimately a sustainable symbiosis between the architecture and its surroundings.

Image: Timber Pavilion roof plan. 202


Image: (Left) Timber Pavilion Elevation North; (Right) Timber Pavilion Section BB. 204



ARLA1000 Design Studio - Groundings Unit Coordinator: Emily Van Eyk Studio Coordinators: Daniel Jan Martin & Liam Mouritz ‘A Food Landscape’

MARCUS TAN ‘Scaffold’

The Scaffold borrows the spirit of freedom from a campsite lot, a place where the tension between seemingly polar activities is absolved in the created structural medium. It is a loosely defined yet clearly oriented space that provides one simple use; a scaffold for people (and life) to insert themselves on. Consisting of a modular brick system, it is constructed by drawing cues from an amphitheatre, and similarities in campfire and site circulation. The beautiful greenery and blues of the Sunset Heritage Precinct draws out new functional capabilities, which are not traditionally attributed to the amphitheatre. Unconventional activity pairings arise and coalesce together to generate a new mixture of atmosphere and enjoyment, with countless concoctions possible. Fishing and lecturing, kiting and dancing, comedy and stargazing, to name a few. It is a place where the senses are allowed to penetrate through the barriers, where structure is erected in attempt to demarcate not dictate, where the experience is categorised with freedom and fluidity. There is no controlled internal environment, whatever the weather offers is candidly adopted, reflected in the type of inhabitation invited here. The structure also aims to repay the Earth of our costs continually incurred with her inhabitation. Space is provided for the establishment of community gardens, planting and introduction of more local species throughout the site, and ultimately the generation of new ecosystems for life to settle and thrive on such as habitats for marine life. There is also no carbon footprint accumulated with travel if the user barely needs to move their feet to transition seamlessly between activities. Accessible only on foot, a 450m walk along a winding path through Australian flora precedes the encounter, perhaps the perfect setting to draw reflection and attention to our continual impact here.

Image: Surfaces – watercolour. 207

Image: South elevation. 208


ARLA1000 Design Studio - Groundings Unit Coordinator: Emily Van Eyk Studio Coordinators: Sally Farrah & Darcy Rankin ‘A Food Landscape’


For this project, we responded to a brief created by another student that focused on a meal. My proposal follows a journey that is linked to the creation of the meal – salmon (or any local fish) with stir-fried vegetables. I decided to link the creation of the meal to a journey/system around the site. The journey has four sections. First, a jetty to catch and prepare the fish. Secondly, a garden to provide the ingredients for the vegetable stir-fry. Next, a kitchen for the preparation of the meal, and finally a building that will be used for dining. The movement through the site is dictated by a series of wooden gates/arches, inspired by the Fushimi Inari Shrine in Kyoto, Japan. This shrine consists of many ceremonial arches known as Torii that follow a path to a temple at the end. The brief that I was responding to was titled Textures and the collision of Nature and Construction, thus, within this journey/system, a key aspect is landscape, and the relationship between the landscape and built environment. I wanted to ensure that my system has a light touch on the ground, and thus designed pavilions around this concept. The jetty touches only with the support pylons; only the garden wall is touching the ground with no slab or built floor; and, like the jetty, the kitchen area only touches the ground with the pylons. This minimal touch concept is perhaps best exemplified with the dining area, built as a cantilever. The path system consists of a series of ceremonial gates. These gates also link to the idea of minimal touch as they mark the journey without need for a concrete path dug into the ground.

Image: Site render and path perspective view. 210


Image: Sections, and perspective renders of jetty, kitchen and dining area. 212



ARLA1040 Techniques of Visualisation Unit Coordinator: Jennie Officer Teaching Associates: Kate Sloss, Charlotte Pyle & Samantha Dye


This unit develops students’ skills in visualisation – the fertile territory between ideas and reality. We posit that design is transformative and speculative, not just a means to an end, and that visualisation is intrinsic to communicating design ideas, things and processes. Students are introduced to a range of software programs and digital techniques that are intended as a springboard for further exploration in their own project work. Postcards From Home: a set of five postcards that re-visualise the students’ current place of residence. Students were asked to demonstrate precision and observation in designing the front and back of each postcard, using a range of multimedia and visualisation techniques learned in the unit. Each postcard re-visualises specific aspects of ‘home’ and its context, responding to: Buildings, Not Buildings, A Room, Your Place, and Greetings from the Future.

Images: Louisa Peters. Front and back of Not Buildings. 215

Images: Louisa Peters. Your Place, and Greetings from the Future. 216

Images: Johnny Vu. Back and front of Not Buildings. 217

Images: Ksenya Kerapa. Not Buildings, and Your Place. 218

Images: (Top) Keali Pyvis. Not Buildings. (Bottom) Grace Lamont. Not Buildings. 219

Images: (Top) Grace Lamont. Your Place. (Bottom) Dominic Mallia. Greetings from the Future. Image: 220

Images: Tim Li Ying. Not Buildings, and A Room. 221

Images: (Top) Harvey Rupp. Your Place. (Bottom) Beth Cook. Greetings from the Future. Image: 222

Images: (Top) Dylan Boon. Not Buildings. (Bottom) Suzan Eyssautier. Not Buildings. 223

Landscape Architecture

Image: LACH5422 Design Studio, Making Studio: Landscape as narrative. Design HUB, 2021 Winter Collective Exhibition opening night, 10 June 2021. 224

Photography by Samantha Dye. 225


LACH5511 Independent Dissertation by Design Part 2 Unit Coordinators: Dr Maria Ignatieva Supervisors: Christopher Vernon & Dr Maria Ignatieva


‘Bridging Gaps. Reconnecting Lake Joondalup to the Coast’ This design study is a continuation of Part 1: Landscape Architecture and how it responds to habitat fragmentation. This dissertation strives to answer the question: Can our urban spaces be rewired to relink natural landscapes? Western Australia’s natural landscape is like a blanket covering an ancient soil. Its endless shrubs and trees stretch towards the horizon as far as the eye can see. The sprawl of this unique landscape is as beautiful as it is precious. A different kind of sprawl has disturbed this once pristine place. The habitats that once were intertwined for generations are isolated from each other, replaced by our own growing concrete jungles. Our continued development has cleared away generations of flora and fauna that have evolved in isolation for thousands of years. What was once a blanket, are now pockets of nature reserves and parks. Native plant and animal life are subject to the effects of a lack of genetic diversity and exposure to the urban heat island effect. The City of Joondalup and its neighbouring suburbs provide an example of an established urban area that sits between two significant nature reserves, namely, Lake Joondalup and the Ocean Reef coastal foreshore. The masterplan concept shows that linking gaps in streetscapes, as well as the inclusion of the Joondalup golf course will provide a viable green corridor through the suburbs. During exploration of the design, I found potential spaces within the city that allowed repurposing to further strengthen a continuous green link. This allowed me to focus on an area where I can make the most impact. Mitchell Freeway stood as the biggest barrier in linking the lake to the coast. It presented a challenge as well a chance to create something that resonates throughout my masterplan. A bridging of gaps.

Image: The tiered garden beds serve as an ecological continuation from both sides of the bridge as well as a gallery of native plant life. 227

Image: Green bridge over Mitchell Freeway connecting the city of Joondalup’s Nature corridor with its western suburbs creating a continuous link all the 228

e way to the foreshore. 229

LACH5422 Design Studio - Making Unit and Studio Coordinator: Rosie Halsmith ‘Making Studio: Landscape as narrative’

AMY STEWART ‘Interwoven’

From the remnant chains of the Beeliar wetlands and the ancient Spearwood ridgeline that cleaves through the swan coastal plain – to the ocean edge that shapes it – Manning Park lies at a cross roads of many unique environmental conditions. While it acts as a refuge for many native species and park goers, it stands alone as an isolated fragment of broader environmental systems. Interwoven aims to reconnect Manning Park and its users to these larger scale natural systems by weaving trails through the landscape that highlight and tell the stories of how these systems came to be.

Image: Ridge Trail detailed section. 230


Image: Wetland Ridge Loop section. 232



LACH5422 Design Studio - Making Unit and Studio Coordinator: Rosie Halsmith ‘Making Studio: Landscape as narrative’


‘Living History – Trails of seasonal and cultural ecology’ Manning Park is described as the jewel in Beeliar Regional Parks’ crown. A standalone entity nestled within public recreational space and suburbia, the park consists of ancient limestone geology, seasonal wetland, and remnant bushland of Priority 1 Conservation status. Arriving on site unveiled an experience of ‘Prospect and Refuge’. ‘Prospect’ spoke of the journey of reveal; where the path would lead to that secret view, the opportunity beyond the obscurity, where ‘Refuge’ spoke of protection and sanctuary; whether it be the density of the bush, the vertical accent of ancient limestone geology, the embrace of melaleucas that hug the wetland or the generous canopy of ancient Tuarts and Eucalypts. A place of documented early Swan River settlement, the cultural narrative of the site was yet to be explored. Songlines and oral histories identify Manning Park and its surrounds of high ecological and cultural significance to the Whadjuk Nyungar, particularly the Beeliar Boodjar. First Nation cultural heritage is a weave of seasonal hunting, foraging, agriculture, camping and migration, following the consanguineous wetlands that snake their way up and down the Swan Coastal Plain. An opportunity exists to unify the park with a trail experience that narrates a cultural footprint through renewed ecology. A vision of a continuous trail loop that connects park, wetland, and ridge; a ‘trail experience’ above and below the tree canopy – linking views and a cultural connection to the Derbal Nara and the Darling Scarp. Seasonal marker species planted along the trail are accompanied by ‘rest spots’ with wayfinding elements, offering a better understanding of the six seasons, cultural history, endemic vegetation and habitat. An opportunity for the trail participant to embrace awareness of the changes in landscape, encouraging future stewardship and conservation.

Image: The Parrot Bush Walk: Lookout and Rest Stop. 235

Image: (Left) The Pines Walk; (Right) The Living History Rest Stop. 236


LACH4423 Landscape and Urban Ecology Unit Coordinator: Dr Maria Ignatieva


‘Alfred Cove Urban Biotope Mapping’ As one of the last remaining undisturbed salt marsh wetlands (a threatened ecological community), Alfred Cove Nature Reserve is under increasing pressure from development of adjacent suburban residences. It is also habitat for trans-migratory birds from Siberia, and whatever local impact humans make to the area has a broader global implication. Within a 600m radius of Alfred Cove, four major biotope zones that are further broken down into 12 biotope sub-types on terrestrial portions of the study area have been observed. Classification of the biotopes are based on the common species of vegetation communities, density and complexity of vegetation communities and interaction with surrounding hydrology and geology, which influence habitat for flora and fauna. Through the biotope mapping exercise, some interactions between the ecological communities were observed – most noticeably where it interacts with human land use. The use of fencing, roads and pathways created artificial barriers in biotopes, with varying edge effects depending on the scale of vegetation communities. Human activity is generally seen as a negative impact on remnant vegetation communities around Alfred Cove as they require specialised conditions in which they have slowly adapted to over time. Humans are part of the ecology, and in creating amenities for human activities and habitation, new artificial biotope typologies have been created, which have an impact on the broader ecological community. In addition, cultural land use policies have resulted in isolating patches of remnant vegetation, and modification of natural ecosystems through human intervention. There exists the opportunity to review landscape design and planning policies through environmental sciences, to engage the broader community for a more holistic picture of the natural environment, and approach landscape architecture from an ecological perspective to provide greater opportunities for resilience and regeneration of the natural environment.

Image: Wetland Biotopes. 238



TERRESTRIAL WOODLAND BIOTOPES SAMPHIRE WETLANDS Area: Approximately 40 570m2 (5% of study area) Dominant species: Sarcocornia quinqueflora, ‘Beaded samphire’ Suaedae australis, ‘Austral Seablite’ Juncus krausii, ‘Sea Rush’ Description: Open, saline marshy wetland with permanently damp peat ground. Tidal ponds and streams are formed throughout the area. The marsh is reported to be relatively undisturbed due to fencing around the area, but is under pressure from invasive grasses and nutrient loading from drains that empty into the cove Ratio of exotic to endemic species: 90% Endemic, 10% Exotic Some invasive grasses from adjacent lawns along edges with Troy Park has been observed, mainly Pennisetum clandestinum ‘kikuyu‘. Notes and Observations Habitat for birds, insects and reptiles. A Bobtail lizard (Tiliqua rugosa) has been observed once along the edges with Troy Park

RIVER RIPARIAN VEGETATION Area: Approximately 25 867m2 (3% of study area) Dominant species: Juncus krausii, ‘Sea Rush’ Casuarina obesa, ‘Swamp Sheoak’ Melaleuca cuticularis, ‘Saltwater paperbark’ Description: Narrow sandy alluvial beaches with open stands of Juncus krausii with stands of Swamp Sheoak. Some other sedges and rushes are observed, including Lepidosperma gladiatum and exotic Typha species. Ratio of exotic to endemic species: 80% Endemic, 20% Exotic Some invasive kikuyu, poa sp. and Avena sp. observed along fencing edge. Notes and Observations Fencing along edges of lawn discourages foot traffic. Erosion has been observed along fence line. Foreshore is partially reclaimed from dredging riverbed sand over the top of its previous use as landfill.


WOODLAND WETLANDS Area: Approximately 50 579m2 (7% of study area) Dominant species: Melaleuca raphiophylla, ‘Swamp paperbark’, ‘Yowarl’ Juncus krausii, ‘Sea Rush’ Eucalyptus rudis, ‘Flooded Gum’


Description: Shady woodland of salt tolerant swamp paberparks and flooded gums with dense understorey sedges of Juncus sp. and Baumea sp. Wetlands are set further inland away from bodies of water. Ground is observed to be damp to wet. Ratio of exotic to endemic spieces: 85% Endemic, 15% Exotic Some invasive grasses from adjacent lawns along edges with pedestrian path. Shade from Melaleuca stands assist in stopping rhizomes. Notes and Observations Chain link fencing assists in keeping human foot traffic out of area and acts as an artificial barrier between maintained lawn areas and wetlands.


Biotope mapping May 2021



fertilisers used to maintain the reserves and adjacent residential gardens leech into river and marshes. Various volunteer groups such as the Friends of Attadale Foreshore and Swan Estuary Reserves Action Group regularly assist in revegetation and monitoring efforts around the foreshore and wetlands and is credited in preventing further environmental degradation to the reserve. Poisoning of flora and fauna, as well as the illegal clearing of vegetation unfortunately occurs on rare occasions around the wetlands and is an ongoing concern from households who wish to obtain a clear view of the river, however the wetlands are generally appreciated and valued by the wider community.


Biotope mapping May 2021 Marri Woodlands


Area: Approximately 45 060m2 (6% of study area) Dominant species: Corymbia callophylla, ‘Marri’ Banksia menziessii, ‘Firewood banksia’ Description: Remnant vegetation with revegetation patches. Marri tree canopy with Banksia understorey, stands of Xanthorrhoea sp. grass trees and macrozamia sp. Leaf litter and branches left on ground on yellow/white sand ground. Ratio of exotic to endemic species: 90% Endemic, 10% Exotic Some invasive grasses and herbaceous from from adjacent gardens Notes and Observations Habitat for birds, insects and reptiles. Signs for bobtail lizards crossing installed. Some fencing installed to discourage human movement to interior and revegetation patches. Playground and lawn to northern entry of reserve.

RIVERSIDE WOODLANDS Area: Approximately 30 406m2 (4% of study area) Dominant species: Eucalyptus rudis, ‘Flooded gum’ Melaleuca raphiophylla, ‘Swamp paperbark’, ‘Yowarl’ Description: Shady canopy of Flooded Gums and swamp paperbarks with understorey of predominately Juncus sp. sedges. Possibly remnant vegetation prior to land reclamation to foreshore. Ground is dry sand and mulched as opposed to dense sedges of damp peat near wetland zones. Sedges discourages human movement through. Ratio of exotic to endemic spieces: 70% Endemic, 30% Exotic Some patches of kikuyu, poa sp. and Avena sp. observed Notes and Observations Habitat for birds. Possible original remnant vegetation prior to land reclamation. Some revegetation planting to edge with unkempt lawn and understorey. Bat boxes installed to some trees

Parkland Area: Approximately 29 496m2 (4% of study area)


Dominant species: Eucalyptus rudis, ‘Flooded Gum’ Corymbia maculata, ‘Spotted gum’ Pennisetum clandestinum, ‘Kikuyu’ Description: Open canopy of individual trees with mown lawn under. Land is cleared and arranged to a European park setting. Existing flooded gums have been retained, but otherwise contains diverse plantings of exotic trees and trees not endemic to the area such as spotted gum. Ratio of exotic to endemic species: 50% Endemic, 50% Exotic


Hedging Area: Approximately 3600m2 (less than 1% of study area) Dominant species: Melaleuca lanceolata, ‘Rottnest Island Tea-Tree’ Melaleuca cuticularis, ‘Saltwater paperbark’ Description: Landscaped element of Melaleuca shrubs that act as a privacy screen and wind break from adjacent parkland recreational areas. Patches of unkempt lawn for ground conditions. Ratio of exotic to endemic species: 70% Endemic to 30% Exotic


Biotope mapping May 2021

Image: (Left) Terrestrial Woodland Biotopes; (Right) Lawn Biotopes. 240



OPEN LAWN - MAINTAINED Area: Approximately 25 867m2 (3% of study area) Dominant species: Pennisetum clandestinum, ‘Kikuyu’ Cynadon dactylon, ‘Couch’ Description: Regularly mown and maintained lawn, mainly as sports fields. Some strips of lawn along road verges. Ratio of exotic to endemic species: 100% Exotic Notes and Observations Willie Wagtails (Rhipidura leucophrys) observed to be scavenging in fields. Area is noted to be reclaimed land especially around Troy Park and Attadale Reserve and is a brownfield site as a previous landfill zone. Erosion and subsidence is occurring at edges with riparian zones to the tip of Troy Park. Human recreational activity includes field sports (Australian Rules Football, Cricket, Basketball and Netball), bird watching, sightseeing

UNKEMPT LAWN Area: Approximately 19 325m2 (3% of study area) Dominant species: Pennisetum clandestinum, ‘Kikuyu’ Description: Open area of unmown lawn in between woodlands and riverside beaches. Forms clumps of kikuyu grass up to 40-50cm high. Signage and ropes indicate area is deliberately kept unkempt to create habitat for birds. Ratio of exotic to endemic species: 100% Exotic Notes and Observations Area is noted as habitat for Rainbow Bee Eater. Other birds have been observed to be foraging around the grass areas, including observed crested pigeons (Ocyphaps lophotes). Noted to be a brownfield site as previous landfill, reclaimed by dredging the riverbed. Human activity is not observed in area, very ligh traffic traversing from one reserve to the other side. Long grasses make it undesirable to walk through, and as a result the unkempt lawn area has a higher concentration of fauna and insects taking shelter within the taller clumps of kikuyu grass.

Biotope mapping May 2021



LACH3000 Landscape Synthesis Studio Unit Coordinator: Sarah May ‘Matilda Bay: Rethinking the urban park in the 21st century’

TOM RYCROFT ‘Park to Point’

The Park to Point project aims to enhance existing and create new linkages through Matilda Bay, the UWA campus and the surrounding area with a focus on ecological links, environment, human movement and activity. Key moves: - Strengthen connection between the UWA campus and the river; - Design pedestrian connections to promote exercise and mental wellbeing links between Matilda Bay and Kings ParkCreate new, and connect existing, habitats for native species; - Encourage public access to UWA and student use of Matilda Bay; and - Manage existing drainage systems leading into the river

Image: Hackett Drive share road. 243

Image: (Left) Mounts Bay Road bridge landing; (Right) Site sections. 244


LACH3000 Landscape Synthesis Studio Unit Coordinator: Sarah May ‘Matilda Bay: Rethinking the urban park in the 21st century’


‘The Educational River Park’ The Educational River Park manipulates drainage networks and the current landscape condition of the site to educate users of the hydrological and environmental history and importance of the site. A series of abstracted drainage devices, landscape interventions and planting pallets work to bond people and place to Matilda Bay (Godroo/Goodamiorup/Gurndandulup), The University of Western Australia and the Derbal Yerrigan.

Image: The Educational River Park: Immeasuable Site qualities renders. 246


Image: (Left) The Educational River Park: Wetlands Walk Typology; (Right) The Educational Drain Main Inlet plan & section. 248



LACH2000 Landscape Context Studio Unit Coordinator: Christina Nicholson ‘Urban Overlap: Russell Square, Northbridge’

JOYCE VAN LEEUWEN ‘Russell Square Urban Overlap’

Russell Square is a large inner-city park located in Northbridge and sits on ancient Whadjuk Noongar country. The urban overlap of this site is reflected in social, cultural and ecological contexts. The design considers this urban overlap and aims to better service the community, the urban environment and enrich its biodiversity. Russell Square offers an opportunity to be the lush, green heart of the city. The main entrance opens up from the wide steps and seating area, through the mature Morton Bay Fig trees, towards the big open grass area. This flexible space can be used for activities and events like the Fringe Festival, farmers’ markets, yoga, exercise and more. The promenade offers seating and eating spaces under the green canopies, where many Eucalyptus species have been added to the existing trees. The playful steps in the park offer a place to hang out and play under the shade structure. The open grass area is surrounded by the botanical garden, holding native plants, shrubs and wildflowers, providing privacy, colour, habitat and seasonal change. This area offers more intimate spaces, as well as opportunities for community education and collaboration. There are multiple seating pods, a café in the repurposed gazebo and a nature play area. The design is based on three main principles: - Place of Sanctuary: a space that feels balanced, comfortable and safe. A space where people like to be, hang out and spend time. - Design with Respect: the appreciation for and recognition of the land, its people, systems and use over time. - Connection to Community: a space where people can come together, share, learn and enjoy themselves. The aim of this design is to celebrate overlap, create a green inner-city park where people like to be, encourage its biodiversity, enrich the visitors experience and re-connect communities – past, present and future.

Image: Masterplan Russell Square, Northbridge, WA. 251

Image: (Top) Detail sections; (Bottom) Perspectives of Russell Square, Northbridge, WA. 252


LACH1010 History and Theory of Landscape Architecture Unit Coordinator: Dr Maria Ignatieva Teaching Associate: Fahimeh Mofrad


‘Frederick Law Olmsted and the Role of Public Parks in Cities’ Abstract American Landscape Architect, Frederick Law Olmsted (1822-1903) produced a profound public park legacy including Central Park and Prospect Park in New York, the Boston Park System, Chicago’s Jackson Park and the US Capital Grounds. Olmsted’s Park oeuvre emanated from his belief in the therapeutic effect of natural environments on human health and spirit and the positive role of parks in community building across social, cultural and economic divides. This essay contends that Olmsted was a social reformer and believer in the transformative power of natural environments, who utilized the design of urban public parks as a mechanism to enhance social progress, civic evolution and democratization. It will demonstrate that Olmsted’s early life experiences, education and travel led to a personal philosophy. This was that the provision of public parks, comprised of definitive design elements and accessible to all urban inhabitants, was essential for optimal health, social and cultural development of cities. Introduction Credited as the father of Landscape Architecture in the US (Thompson 2014, xi), Frederick Law Olmsted’s early life and work experiences contributed to the development of his social 254

philosophy and professional skills, which coalesced into a designer of extraordinary ability and a ‘visionary critic of urban planning’ (Scheper 1989). Early life and career Olmsted’s appreciation of nature developed at a young age with time spent in woods surrounding his home (Rogers 2016, 20) and alongside his naturedevoted father on country forays (Martin 2011, 12). He embarked on several careers in his early life – surveyor, clerk, sailor – but it was not until he tried his hand at farming and became committed to promoting modern scientific methods that he first devoted himself to a civic cause (Martin 2011, 47). After becoming disillusioned with farming, Olmsted’s burgeoning interest in social issues found an audience as he embarked on a writing career. Key influences Olmsted’s early impression of the benefits of nature and his interest in social reform consolidated during trips to England he undertook as a young journalist. His 1850 tour introduced him to urban reform (Nicholson 2004, 336) through visits to large urban public parks included in rapidly expanding English cities. Olmsted was influenced during this time by Picturesque, Gardenesque and Naturalistic English landscape garden theories based upon the restoring of physical and mental equilibrium through emersion in natural environments, which engage all the senses (Eisenman 2016, 221). Birkenhead Park, Merseyside, England, left a lasting impression on Olmsted. He applauded that the Gardenesque-style park was publicly funded and open to all society and compared it favorably to his home country (Warner 1993). Such was its impact that the park – designed by Joseph Paxton (1803-1865) – has been widely credited as informing the design of Olmsted’s first park commission, Central Park (co-designed with Calvert

Image: Quite a Vision – Frederick Law Olmsted’s Central Park designed in 1857 and the heart of New York City, USA today. Aerial view of Central Park (photo). (2014). In Bridgeman Images (Ed.), Bridgeman images: The Bridgeman Art Library. Bridgeman.

Vaux (1824- 1895)) (Ferguson 2019). Continuing his writing career, in 1852 Olmsted investigated issues of the American South, where his reformist mindset deepened upon experiencing the terrible consequences of the slaverydependent class structure. Nicholson notes that he recognised in parallel that the South was not alone in suffering devastating social problems. Olmsted believed the rapid and unregulated growth of industrialization in the North also came at a cataclysmic human cost and dedicated himself to finding a solution (2004, p.336). Exposure to the theories of early urban park advocates provided Olmsted with a practical

remedy to the problems he saw (Evelev 2014). These park theorists attributed a righteousness to natural rural features (Taylor 1999, 426), which could be replicated in urban parks benefiting citizens through immersion in these virtuous places. These multiple influences conflated within Olmsted to form an “aesthetic sensibility [which] was predicated on principles of social reorganization” (Nelson 2015, 48). Living conditions in 19th century America Olmsted’s developing social philosophy must be viewed in context of the era. The urban masses in American cities were suffering under the 255

rapid expansion of industrialization. Disease ran rampant, promoted by poor sanitary conditions and overcrowding. City inhabitants were exposed to water and air pollution and overwork was the norm for the working classes (Warner 1993). As the only easily accessible places of nature, civic spaces such as cemeteries were inundated by visitors (Taylor 1999, 429). Olmsted found social congregation in cemeteries abhorrent and attributable to an overwhelming need for nature spaces not being provided by city administrators. (Rich 2016). In Olmsted’s view, public parks were the answer. Evolving social reform philosophy into park design philosophy In 1857, Olmsted was invited by architect Calvert Vaux to jointly submit a park design for undeveloped land, which would become New York’s Central Park. At the time, it was a desolate place where Olmsted worked as superintendent. Olmsted took this opportunity to draw the threads of his experiences and theories into a cohesive park design to create a democratic public space for a healthier, happier society. Olmsted and Vaux’s design response, the ‘Greensward’ Plan, had a Gardenesque-style, enhanced pastoral aesthetic “to present an aspect of spaciousness and tranquility…[and] resemble a charming bit of rural landscape” (Rosenzweig 1992, 240). Formal areas were included throughout the Park’s plan to provide appropriate spaces for all strata of society to mingle, which Olmsted believed would have an enlightening influence on the working class. (Evelev 2014). Olmsted wrote the park’s design ethos was: “simply to produce a certain influence in the minds of people and through this to make life in the city healthier and happier. The character of this influence is a poetic one and it is to be produced by means of scenes, through observation of which the 256

mind may be more or less lifted out of moods and habits into which it is, under the ordinary conditions of life in the city, likely to fall” (Scheper 1989). In his view, for public parks to achieve appreciable social benefits, definitive aesthetic characteristics were required. Parks needed to contain impressive natural scenes, occupying the mind “without purpose”, allowing escape from life’s stresses (Spirn 1996). Olmsted carefully considered all aspects of the park’s design to amplify the benefits he sought to provide and fiercely guarded the design’s integrity with rules and regulations once it was in use (Martin 2011, 167). Olmsted’s park design theory post-Central Park After finding success with Central Park, Olmsted embarked on what would be a distinguished career in landscape architecture. He honed his design philosophy to ensure his park landscapes could deliver the social benefits he intended. Aesthetically, Olmsted believed that the “powerful effect of scenery was one that worked by unconscious process” (Beveridge 2000). Park design must realize the ‘genius loci’ that is, the spirit of the place and be appropriate to the location. Design should ensure engagement with surroundings, for example, through linking ‘parkways’ to extend the park space and its benefits. He advocated amplifying natural elements of beauty and removing all detractors. Different areas should be provided for healthful enjoyment to minimize conflicts between types of users. Trafficways must be managed for amenity of movement and so not to unsettle views. Overall, he proclaimed, the unity of the design was paramount to its beauty. Throughout his design career, Olmsted remained true to his reformist philosophy by aligning his design principles to it and creating parks to soothe the mind, body and spirit – or in his words – “sanitising spaces” that allowed the mind to “unbend” (Spirn 1996).

Conclusion Olmsted believed the desire for natural scenery was a “self-preserving instinct of civilization” (Twombly 2010) that must be provided for to mitigate the problems plaguing post-industrial American cities. He was convinced that contemplation of beautiful nature scenes provided lasting improvements to physical, moral, social, cultural health and that well-designed public parks could offer such scenes. Olmsted’s reformist philosophy, developed through his early life experiences, led to his public park mission – to enhance society through creation and championing of public park spaces to provide remedy to the ill effects of urban life. Bibliography Barlow, Elizabeth. Frederick Law Olmsted’s New York. England: Praeger Publishers, 1972. Beveridge, Charles E. Olmsted-His Essential Theory. 2000. https:// Coe, Alexis. “When Sheep Ruled Central Park.” Modern Farmer. February 10, 2014. central-parks-sheeps-meadow/. Donald Insall Associates. “Birkenhead Park Appraisal.” Wirral. 2009. all/planning%20and%20building/built%20conservation/ birkenhead%20park/Birkenhead%20Park%20Appraisal.pdf. Durante, Dianne. “Central Park: Images through 1860 .” Dianne Durante Writer. n.d. Eisenman, Theodore S. “Greening Cities in an Urbanising Age: The Human Health Bases in the Nineteenth and Early Twenty-first Centuries.” Change Over Time 6 (2) (University of Pennsylvania Press), 2016: 216-246. Evelev, John. “Rus-Urban Imaginings Literature of the American Park Movement and Representations of Social Space in the Mid-Nineteenth Century .” Early American Studies, 2014: 174-201. Ferguson, Ryan. Why Central Park in New York is based on Birkenhead Park in Wirral. July 28, 2019. https://ryanferguson. “Frederick Law Olmsted.” New England Historical Society. n.d.

“” Library of Congress. n.d. Kendell, Jonathan. “Remembering when Americans Picnicked in Cemeteries .” Atlas Obscura. October 24, 2018. https://www. Martin, Justin. Genius of place: The Life of Frederick Law Olmsted. Cambridge, USA: Da Capo Press, 2011. Nelson, Garrett Dash. “Walking and talking through Walks and Talks: travelling in the English landscape with Frederick Law Olmsted 1850 and 2011.” Journal of Historical Geography, 2015: 47-57. Nicholson, Carol. “Elegance and Grass Roots: The Neglected Philosophy of Frederick Law Olmsted. .” Transactions of the Charles Pearce Society: A Quarterly Journal in American Philosophy, 2004: 335-348. Rich, Nathaniel. When Parks Were Radical. September 2016. Riis, Jacob. “Tenements.” 1889. https://www.history. com/topics/immigration/tenements. Rogers, EB. “Review: Olmsted: Writings on Landscape, Culture and Society by Charles E Beveridge.” A Journal of Place Vol.11 No.2 , 2016: 20-23. Rosenzweig, Roy. The Park and the People: a history of Central Park. New York: Ithaca, 1992. Scheper, George L. “The Reformist Vision of Fredrick Law Olmstead and Poetics of Park Design.” The New England Quarterly, 1989: 369-402. Spirn, Anne Whiston. “Constructing Nature: The Legacy of Frederick Law Olmsted.” In Uncommon Ground: Rethinking the Human Place in Nature, by William Cronon, 91-113. New York: WW Norton and Company , 1996. Taylor, Dorceta E. “Central Park as a Model for Social Control: Urban Parks, Social Class and Leisure Behaviour in Nineteenth-Century America.” Journal of Leisure Research 31:4, 1999: 420-477. Thompson, Ian H. Landscape Architecture: A Very Short Introduction. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014. Todd, John Emerson. Fredrick Law Olmsted. Boston, Massachusetts: Twayne Publishers, 1982. Twombly, Robert. Frederick Law Olmsted: Essential Texts. New York: WW Norton & Company, 2010. Warner, Sam Bass. “Public Park Inventions: Past and Future.” In The Once and Future Park, by Deborah Karasov and Steve Waryan, 17-21. New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 1993. “Your Parkways.” Buffalo Olmsted Park Conservancy. n.d. https://


Urban Design

Image: URBD5804 Urban Design Studio 1, Mount Lawley ECU Redevelopment. Design HUB, 2021 Winter Collective Exhibition opening night, 10 June 258

2021. Photography by Samantha Dye. 259

URBD5804 Urban Design Studio 1 Unit and Studio Coordinator: Dr Rob Cameron ‘Mount Lawley ECU Redevelopment’

BILLIE MCDONALD ‘Cohabitating with Nature’

For this studio, the brief involved designing a proposal for the ECU Mount Lawley site’s redevelopment, which incorporates two thousand dwellings. The site is situated within the Perth biodiversity hotspot. Urban development within Mount Lawley and surrounding areas covers most of the land, which means natural and resilient habitat areas for wildlife have either been demolished or pushed to separate enclosed areas, or to the edges of our green spaces. Located in an area with years of urban development and growth, perhaps the Mount Lawley site can become an example of co-living between the urban and natural environment, people and wildlife. Cohabitation with nature is a lifestyle. Imagine being surrounded by tall trees rustling in the breeze while a flock of cockatoos contrast against the backdrop of the sky close by – all just on your way to the bus stop or meeting with friends and family. Everywhere you turn on your journey through the site will be a celebration of the buzzing life of natural habitats that have often faded into the urban background. Waterbirds will frolic in restored wetlands and possums will emerge from tree hollows at night, all of which can be respectfully experienced by people in spaces on the site. With wildlife-inclusive urban design at the forefront, this redevelopment can both explore Perth’s natural environment while calling it home. This project is based on wildlife-inclusive urban design, which uses traditional conservation biology methods of developing strategy for target species. For this project, the red-tailed black cockatoo, brushtail possum and Australasian Darter have been selected as target species and their needs have been integrated through the design process.

Image: Isometric view. 260


Image: (Left) Isometric masterplan with species’ needs; (Right) Perspectives. 262



URBD5804 Urban Design Studio 1 Unit and Studio Coordinator: Dr Rob Cameron ‘Mount Lawley ECU Redevelopment’


‘Community for the future’ The vision of this plan is to create a community for the future Mount Lawley ECU through a lens of three interlinked concepts: walkability, climate resilience and creativity industry. Walkability and proximity to amenities will promote happier communities and enhance climate resilience by reducing car dependence. Improved public transport connections to the city and surrounding suburbs will reduce car dependency, and shaded, well-connected bike and foot paths will encourage active transport. Activated green infrastructure will enhance biodiversity corridors and reduce the urban heat island effect, promoting climate resilience. Walkability will enhance social connectivity through increased chance encounters, and all these factors will combine to attract and nurture creative industries. A mix of land uses, including commercial, entertainment, residential, industrial and government services, will attract a diverse workforce and ensure a vibrant atmosphere throughout the day and night. A range of housing options from affordable to luxury will attract a large and diverse community of residents, from young families to the elderly. This will ensure a self-sustaining community able to support myriad commercial ventures. Many residents will be able to work on site, reducing travel time and promoting active lifestyle choices. The site’s historical identity as a creative centre will make it a vibrant hub. Adaptive re-use of building materials will ensure the site retains a sense of identity, while at the same time reducing the carbon impact of the development. This walkable, climate-resilient, creative hub will be a community for the future.

Image: Walk the dog in the restored wetland. 265

Image: (Left) Grow your own at the community garden; (Right) Take a stroll through the creative plaza. 266


URBD5804 Urban Design Studio 1 Unit and Studio Coordinator: Dr Rob Cameron ‘Mount Lawley ECU Redevelopment’

PARKER WAI ‘Community Chest’

The vacuum caused by the ECU campus relocation needs to be filled. Community are concerned that the connections to the facilities and the place will be lost. The site is located in an area where major centres are far away, and services cannot be delivered in proximity. A Community Chest is where individuals contribute and put their trust in the welfare of the community. This project takes this idea and translates it into the philosophy of this development. It urges people to put effort into placemaking, to be grassroots and to be participatory. The project is guided by life, space, buildings; design for diversity; grassroots support; and transit-oriented development. It has taken lessons from Vauban and the streets of Denmark to deliver a vibrant and diverse neighbourhood. One of the Community Chest ideas focuses on delivering an artistic environment that can both celebrate the history and support the artists live on site. But there are too many art precincts nowadays. Art has been commodified in branding of development. Its value has been reduced to a market gimmick. Thus, the Community Chest encourages the model of co-housing, participatory planning, and urban acupuncture to address the affordability issue and foster grassroots development. Art is from the bottom-up. The vision for the Community Chest is of establishing a unique role fitting in the surrounding area. It delivers high quality and vibrant public spaces. It provides housing mix and services to the diverse needs of the growing Perth communities. It is highly walkable, liveable, and enjoyable for residents and visitors during both night and day.

Image: Isometric of masterplan. 268


Image: (Left) Perspective view of sculpture plaza; (Right) Perspective view of both night and day. 270


Image: ARCT5101/5102 Architecture, Thousand Year Retreat. Design HUB, 2021 Winter Collective Exhibition opening night, 10 June 2021. Photography 272

by Samantha Dye. 273

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