Melbourne

Milieu

milieuproperty.com.au

Edition 2 Dan Hocking & Brooke Holm

Milieu Property is inspired by Melbourne’s milieu and aims to contribute to its social and built environment with each of our projects. Working with a growing group of local photographers, we explore the places and spaces unique to the city in which we live and work.

Dan Hocking

Welcome to the second edition of Melbourne Milieu and another unique perspective on our city. Talented local photographers Dan Hocking and Brooke Holm take inspiration from Melbourne’s architecture and landscapes. In this photo essay they capture the quality of Melbourne’s spaces in their natural and made forms. Dan explores the inner city while Brooke takes us to the city limits. Accompanying the photos are the musings of architect Ben Edwards. He discusses the difference between the ubiquitous glossy images that saturate our lives and the sensory experience of actually occupying a home. This essay is part of a series of open discussions designed to generate useful conversations about our built environment.

For further thoughts and inspiration, follow us on Instagram @milieuproperty or visit milieuproperty.com.au D

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Edition 2

Melbourne Milieu – Edition 2 Dan Hocking

Melbourne Milieu – Edition 2 Dan Hocking

Melbourne Milieu – Edition 2 Dan Hocking

Melbourne Milieu – Edition 2 Dan Hocking

Melbourne Milieu – Edition 2 Dan Hocking

Ben Edwards discusses the impact of social media on good design, meaningful ways to communicate about architecture, and what puts the wind in his sails. Grammin’ Technology has made architecture more accessible than ever. Social media allows for the rapid dissemination of images and ideas in a way that was never before possible. Images saturate everything. If you’re not on Instagram, you’re on a design blog, the Internet or flicking through a magazine. But there is a downside. Our engagement tends to be fleeting. You might look at an image for two seconds, like it or not, and move on. Everyone can create their own images and there’s a danger everything ends up looking the same, as one kind of image is recycled. This applies to images about house design too, making the notion of ‘home’ a kind of film set fantasy, separate from the experience of occupying these places. Images tend to look into a space. But as human beings, we are usually looking out of or through space. So our experience is the opposite of what we are constantly shown. I’m interested in communicating about architecture in a way that shows the qualities of spaces, and how people experience them.

Words by Clare Kennedy Images by @benedwards3065

For more about Ben please visit edwardsmoore.com

Sampling not creating We are awash in a sea of images and people love sampling what is out there – creating a wish list, based on what already exists. But the act of creating is quite different from that. People often come to me with a pin board of things they like, and that’s really helpful because you can get an idea of someone’s personality, likes and dislikes. However, I think there’s a danger that this way of thinking about designing a home becomes superficial. That’s where the designer comes in, with the ability to sculpt and create spaces. Designers respond to the surrounds of a site and consider its orientation, the fabric of a building and the idea of it being an envelope for your life. The designer’s ability to connect these elements creates an interesting spatial experience. We encourage people to think beyond the wish list of things they have admired in images of other people’s houses. Ultimately it’s the designer’s role to get people thinking about the kind of spaces they want to live in. People might say, ‘We want these pendant lights, this kind of marble.’ We respond: ‘Of course, that’s your personal style,’ but sometimes our role is about taking something out to enhance and amplify the qualities of that space. That said, I don’t want to sound like one of those architects in their black roll-neck looking sourly at the client’s decorations and saying, ‘You can’t have that light fitting!’ At the same time, the height of the ceiling is just as important as the pendant light. You need to think of them in a holistic way rather than in isolation from each other. What is ‘home’? I grew up in Liverpool and settled in Australia when I was in my late twenties. I didn’t call Melbourne home until I had been here for a few years. What ‘home’ means is different for many people. The displaced people in Europe, living in makeshift camps in Calais, are living without a home as such. It’s a luxury having somewhere safe to live and it gives you some perspective to reflect on that. So worrying about the colour of a table light, I mean, who cares? But it is interesting to ask what makes a space a home. When you design, you listen carefully to what constitutes a person’s notion of home. It may not be about the materials but about how that space provides feelings of safety and connection or the ability to add their own character and grow into the space. There may be some universal qualities everyone wants: security, a connection to the outside, an anchor. It is different for everybody. That’s what makes it exciting. A few years back we participated in an ideas competition to design housing that was flexible and could accommodate various groups of people. We specifically considered single parents, and a large Somalian refugee family with ten children. So we had to think carefully about how different groups of people live – without being overly prescriptive.

Our solution was accommodation divided with partitions and pivoting walls that can be opened at mealtimes, for instance, and later shut down to make two separate houses. It was a good exercise in how housing can be flexibly designed to cater for people’s differing needs and ways of life. On house and connection Homes are not just about the individual; homes are also part of the wider community. I’m not saying we should all have communal laundries, but most of us want to feel connected to something – it gives us reassurance. However, people tolerate varying degrees of community. Some don’t want to be a part of an enforced community, they’re happy to get into a lift and disappear. But it’s good if there are opportunities for serendipity, for accidental connections. The spaces between apartments such as corridor and circulation spaces are just as important as the apartment design. I’m thinking of Mum who lived in a hideous apartment block in the United Kingdom, with a lobby that was grey and cold because there were no windows. You’d go up the lift and there was no feeling of anybody else being around, and for her it was a bit depressing. Of course not all people want that connection. Some Londoners live in penthouses and they’re like, ‘You know what? I don’t want to see anybody. I just want to press this button and go straight up to floor 25 from the car park, thank you very much.’ I think there’s room for that position as well. The important thing is that people think honestly about how they want to live because a building’s design shapes those interactions. A few years ago I redesigned a worker’s cottage in Melbourne for Mum to spend part of every year, though she still calls the UK home. The house was designed to create those connections, inside and out. You can literally stand in the front room and see through a series of linked rooms and two internal courtyards. Wherever you are in the house, you are connected to another room, with views out and over the rooftops as well. On the client relationship Building a successful home for someone always begins with listening and being receptive. You need to soak up the parameters of the job, and avoid making assumptions or jumping on preconceived ideas. It’s a matter of fully responding to what you have been asked to do. Then you need to tell a story to explain the rationale of your idea. Making physical models can be very helpful. It’s physically real and can be quite playful. It works as a way of thinking out loud – a bit like sketching, but with boxboard. Wilfully making things doesn’t always work. Sometimes it’s a matter of letting go and allowing ideas form naturally. With a lot of the model making – I almost sliced my finger off the other day – I don’t actually start with anything. I work with a kitchen knife and it just kind of happens. I really enjoy the physicality of seeing, say, three models of the same thing as the idea develops. That’s another way of working, not just on the computer.

Model making is a way of showing your thinking process, which helps the client engage and take on some of the ownership of the project. Because you are sharing the process and opening up a dialogue, you can test your ideas. It’s important to meet with people, not just through an email exchange. If you are genuinely excited and energised about a project, people pick up on that and it helps move the project along. The thinking at the start of a project is really important because it can save a lot of hassle later. Sometimes we might reframe the brief and make a suggestion like, ‘Actually don’t build this. You’re going to give yourself a nervous breakdown.’ In one case where our clients couldn’t agree on anything, we thought of saying, ‘You two need a divorce, not a renovation!’ It’s interesting to read people’s body language and energy to see how they are responding. They might begin with arms crossed and shoulders tensed, but as you go through the story and put them at ease, you can see the body language changing, which is quite fun. By the end, they’re relaxed and telling a joke and smiling – and you know you’re in the right zone. If they’re still shaking their heads with arms crossed, you know you’re on thin ice. Science as muse My interest in science and fascination with chemistry and physics also feeds my ideas. In our practice, we have an interest in materials and how they might be used in unusual and inventive ways. By way of illustration, an ad agency asked us to make a machine so people could make their own artworks. Inspired by the process of chromatography (a process used by scientists to separate closely related compounds, by allowing a solution or mixture to seep

through an absorbent material), we suspended 16 bags of coloured liquids from the gallery ceiling, linked by a series of clear tubes. Visitors were invited to create their own artwork by adding a few drops of their chosen mix onto a piece of circular filter

paper within a petri dish. That activated the separation process, and the result was displayed on the wall so people could monitor the progress of their creation. I mention this as it captures something of our approach: developing a strong concept and travelling towards a solution with a spark of playfulness and invention. Smooth Sailing I also love sailing lasers down at Port Melbourne. They are a single-handed class of dinghy designed for racing. I’m competitive and I like racing. It’s quiet, you don’t talk when you’re sailing, so it can be quite meditative. I love the sheer elegance of sailing; hiking out of the boat to keep it upright, as the wind fills a huge sheet of fabric and propels you along. Last year it inspired me to design a light based on the science of the shape of a sail.

A yacht has a mast, boom and sail and you can adjust the shape of the sail to get the most out of the conditions. By pulling down on the boom vang, you create a different sail shape. Similarly, the idea for the light was to tension up a piece of fabric to create an asymmetrical shape that sits over a light globe. It adds an interesting dynamic to the room, and a soft diffuse light that’s very calming. Moving is good for creative thinking. This year I ran the Melbourne marathon in under four hours. I may as well go for a bit more glory by mentioning that! I originally hated running but I’ve grown to love it. You have a lot of time to think when running around the Tan – and going through a world of pain; it’s quite good for the soul. When you can empty everything out of your brain and have a quiet mind, you can think about things. I do that in running and when designing or thinking about architecture. For me, architecture doesn’t begin at nine and end at five. It is part of my existence. Moore & Moor Ben Edwards is a director of Fitzroy-based architecture studio Edwards Moore. Juliet Moore is his co-director and business partner. Edwards Moore are working on an upcoming apartment project with Milieu Property in Moor Street, Fitzroy, due for release in 2016.

Edwards

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Melbourne Milieu – Edition 2 Brooke Holm

Melbourne Milieu – Edition 2 Brooke Holm

Melbourne Milieu – Edition 2 Brooke Holm

Melbourne Milieu – Edition 2 Brooke Holm

Melbourne Milieu – Edition 2 Brooke Holm

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Melbourne Milieu – Edition 2

1. All Day Parking Dan Hocking2. Cross Brooke Holm

3. Bowling For Shadows #6 Dan Hocking4. Formation Brooke Holm

5. Untitled Dan Hocking6. Disappear Brooke Holm

7. Shrine Steps Dan Hocking8. Heights Brooke Holm

9. Underpass Dan Hocking10. Y Brooke Holm

11. Court-side 4pm Dan Hocking

danhocking.com.au brookeholm.com.au

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