Designs on the Rise Down Under

On this fatal shore to discern design trends down under, review the new Parliament building and attend a touted architecture conference, I, of course, wandered off, convinced that the only way to experience antipodean architecture was serendipitously.

To be sure, I did take guided tours of celebrated new projects, in particular the Parliament building, which was favorably reviewed here July 3. I also visited hallowed landmarks recommended in the guidebooks, spoke to a few seemingly informed local architects and asked opinions of respected architectural historians.

But more revealing was to wander through downtown Sydney and Melbourne; explore the back streets of their inner suburbs, such as Paddington, Potts Point, Coojie and Carlton; cruise the outer suburbs; glimpse burgeoning Brisbane, and along the way, talk to the ultimate architecture critics, the people who experience the heralded projects.

First and foremost was the Sydney Opera House. Few structures I have seen in my travels, I feel, have been as well-sited and expressively styled as the Jorn Utzon-conceived design. The well-publicized problems of cost and construction aside, the cultural complex in the stylized form of a ship in full sail provides a stunning focal point to a spectacular shoreline.

Aiding the experience is an adjacent promenade edging the waterfront there, an area known as the Circular Quay, connecting a downtown historic district to the opera house. The promenade recently was completed by a city growing increasingly conscious of the potential of its waterfront and the need for public access and space.

Despite awkward lighting, fixtures and furnishings, and an obscene stand of cloddish commercial structures leading to the opera house, the promenade works. It is heartening how good siting, a critical mass of people, some street entertainers and a real activity, such as the comings and goings of the ferries, can overcome bad design and detailing.

The same also can be generally said of Darling Harbor, another stretch of Sydney waterfront bordering downtown that was developed recently at a cost of nearly $2 billion. The open space there is quite appealing, especially when jammed with people; the buildings less so.

The complex featuring a festival marketplace, exhibition hall and aquarium designed by Philip Cox looks as if it had floated in awkwardly on a high tide from Baltimore, and is now wallowing at low tide. Worse is the convention center designed by John Andrews, which, at the stage I saw, looked like a giant German machine-gun emplacement, no doubt sited to defend the development from the denizens of a kitschy Chinese Garden that took root nearby.

The most interesting structure in the area was the Powerhouse Museum, an inviting collage of inventively recycled structures and a new facade fashioned with a flair under the direction of architect Lionel Glendinning. Now, if something could be done to energize its plaza, such as an animated outdoor exhibit, the scene would be complete.

Disappointing was the view from Darling Harbor of downtown Sydney. Given the spirit of the city, I really expected a more engaging skyline than the usual boxy, boring office towers that, unfortunately, could be anywhere, or nowhere.

And the hope that the mass of the buildings together can in some way overcome the many poorly designed individual buildings was weakened when I was there with the unveiling of a proposal for a 79-story tower. Designed by architects Crone & Associates for the Bond Corp., the tower is shaped like a very sore and swollen extended middle finger. It bodes, if built, to be a very rude architectural and social gesture.

The dominating office towers of the downtowns of a groaning Melbourne and an emerging Brisbane that I saw were not inspiring either, which is too bad, for the older portions of the cities seemed well-scaled and textured. Quite annoying was how a few buildings in Melbourne have been skewed to present angles that weaken the street facade of the unifying grid of the city.

Also disappointing was how some of the sidewalks in a generally pedestrian-friendly Melbourne had been narrowed, to accommodate parking, or compromised for a building entry. And though trees had been “saved,” such as a stand on Spring Street across from the august government building, their future did not look promising, especially not in a parking zone for tourist buses.

As for the conference, it was a mostly a self-congratulatory affair, like such events everywhere. The theme of the gathering was labeled “Reflections on Unfinished Journeys,” which, presumably, would lead to a new awareness of the potential of Australian architecture, and featured presentations by a garden variety of local and international stars, protracted comments by a gaggle of critics and pedantic academics, and the usual polite chitchat.

Still, select presentations at the conference were helpful to me in my search for an Australian style, something beyond the usual regurgitating of European and American designs and which somehow would reflect the unique settings, life styles and pride of the diverse continent. Impressive was the environmentally conscious and site-sensitive work displayed by Glenn Murcutt, the urbane concerns of Daryl Jackson and the enthusiasm of a coterie of younger practitioners.

While I was captivated by such structures as the Queen Victoria building and the Royal Botanic Gardens kiosk in Sydney, the Windsor Hotel and St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Melbourne and the Treasury and City Hall of Brisbane, it was in the inner, older suburbs of these cities where I feel that in a variety of well-scaled housing I encountered a distinctive Australian architectural style.

Marked by a mix of details that included ornamented grills, verandas, bay windows, stacked terraces, classical moldings, patterned brick work and a range of roofs, from gabled tile to overhung metal, the housing seemed right for the climate and context.

Heartening also was that many of the modest new developments I saw tucked into the terraces were sympathetically styled. That some were designed and built as affordable units made them even more attractive.

Apparently, after some grievous errors in the worst traditions of urban renewal, the Australians have come to understand the importance of the integrity of neighborhoods and the stability they provide for a burgeoning, urban-oriented society.

To me these rows of houses in various suburban clusters, anchored by neighborhood shopping areas marked, usually, by a veranda-fronted pub, will forever architecturally read Australia. They also formed models that I feel could serve Los Angeles well, and hope, in the future, to be able to review them at more length.