Once you have past the urban sprawl of Sydney and into the increasing vastness of outer NSW, the shifting greenery and sun bitten valleys of the Australian bush, see patterns of flora and fauna become evident. Clusters of leafy trees, some strategically placed acting as wind breaks sheltering their surrounds like an oasis in the desert giving a glimpse of life in the thirst stricken landscape. Heading towards Canberra, this landscape becomes more flat and dry, shades of green turn to shades of yellow and then signalling another change is the leafless trees and large Tors which dot the landscape, along with the increase in presence of cattle in larger groupings. The Tors or boulders become the distinctive feature distorting any perception of scale and distance, which proves to be somewhat alienating from a far.
Our architecture will have this as its backdrop. An opportunity for people to engage and experience this out-of-this-world landscape, bringing it up close and personal for it to seem more real; something that would usually be reserved for view behind the glass of a speeding car.
BERRIDALE
Not only will our architecture have to contemplate the landscape but also the community, or potential community of Glendale and Berridale. This small isolated part of NSW is a place always in transition. It hosts people who are not staying for the purpose of enjoying Berridale as such, but rather as a resting place on the fringe away from the ski slopes or farm life. The motels, winery, connivance stores, and pubs, mark this isolated community halfway between the larger town of Cooma and the Snowy Mountains. The few permanent residence enjoy the ever changing landscape of people arriving by the bus and car load for several days then disappearing just as quickly as they came. The quietness is broken only temporarily with the uneven waves of people, where the local hospitality seem ill fit to equip.
In consequence this then places the question of how our architecture will impact on this social landscape. How will it fit in? Will it become a monument like the Big Ram of Canberra that people will want to stop at and visit? Or should it rather fit seamlessly reclusive in the shadows of its isolated rocks and trees?
TORS
On site the rocks confront you with their reality of size, quantity and form. Instead of alienating as they did from a distance, up close they rather animate the landscape. Taking on multiple roles of the documenter, sculpture, and protector. The tors document the site, faithfully rising from their underground hiding spot determined to monument the vast now dry landscape. As sculptural elements, together in clusters, the rock formations huddle in families following the rise and fall of the naturally occurring gradients bringing the hill tops to life and breaking the flatness of the valley bellow. As Protector they can be seen as a refuge, a shelter from the elements, claiming the trees as their own, Not only nestling them between their cracks and crevices but on their surface, creating a transient plane between the horizontal ground and their vertical stature where the trees cast their shadows. So even if the tree tops are unseen through a potential opening, these projected shadows which are seen deny the trees absence.
TREES
The trees, in naturally occurring between the rocks, break the horizontality which seems to dominate the landscape, further rationalising the land as a nurturer of life, and allowing a comprehension of scale. The junction where tree and rock meet sees a reciprocation of mutual accommodation. The rocks crack into layers surrounding the trees and the trees bulge and lean on them.
This could have implication on the structure of the building where it seems to call for a discrete structure which works in harmony with all the building components, yet every now and then reveals itself; a column, an arch a grid beam system, like the odd stand alone, bare trees. They are time conscious blowing in the wind they go from vertical structures to lay low on their rock surroundings only to be persuaded to go back the other way as the wind revives them. They slowly sway in silent chorus both in tune with sun and wind their life cycle is clearly seen.
GROUND COVER AND FAUNA
The ground cover seems to be composed of layers that don’t belong. Amongst the patches of red berry, thorn riddled weeds, cattle manure, rotting carcases, and bones and dehydrated grass and soil, some life resumes existing. Without noticeable insects or birdlife for this time of year, the cattle manage to continue to graze. They rotate around the field like the shadows of the trees, creating and keeping track of time.
In this way our architecture too should behave differently with the passage of time throughout the day and year. For example the shading devices could move with the shifting sun or more obviously each faced dealt with differently, so that the North West winds of winter are minimised. Just as the rocks freeze and crack when heated, the architecture should respond by minding this differentiation.
NUANCES
Time has created erosion and creation of negative space. Peering through the resulting passages they create focus and remove context allowing the observer to capture a moment that would otherwise go unnoticed. These naturally occurring spaces project a safe, intimate setting, which opposes the free immenseness of its surrounding reality.
This further has implications on the solid void relationships of our architecture, where views and space should either be denied, allowed or suggested through simple architectural devices such as half walls, vegetation walls, column systems, layers of openings.
HUMAN INFLUENCE
The evidence of our human activity on the site is finally the most relevant to us, as our architecture is going to be the definitive gesture of this artificial intrusion or inclusion upon this landscape. No matter how untouched it seems to appear there are traces which are easily overlooked.
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