source : the age
The cyclical nature of design trends have long been evident in architecture. Styles deemed passé by one generation will be revived and reinvented by the next, who see beauty and opportunity. These three properties show how the positive attributes of a house, such as location, orientation and connection to garden, can be capitalised on to transform “ugly ducklings” into comfortable, contemporary homes.
The Tree Change House
Architect Brian Zulaikha and artist Janet Laurence share their time between an apartment in the 1960s Gazebo building, a modernist edifice in Elizabeth Bay, Sydney, and a house just outside Berry, south of the city. The couple were looking for a tree change after selling their home in inner-Sydney Balmain and settled on a rolling verdant plot at the foot of Woodhill Mountain.
On the 20,000-square-metre property there was a faux colonial-style homestead, completed in 1990, which had a mish-mash of ideas, including bullnose verandahs and rust-coloured painted timber gable ends. “I love great 1960s and ’70s architecture but when I first saw the kitchen, I wanted to yodel,” says Zulaikha, who thought the heavy, pine-knotted joinery was more suited to a Swiss chalet. “But I could see the ‘bones’ and the way all the doors opened onto the return verandah.”
Laurence also wasn’t put off by the décor, initially focusing on the garden. “I thought there were elements of a Japanese temple, the way each room responded directly to the garden,” she says.
While the existing garden wasn’t exactly to her taste, including its large dose of hydrangeas and roses, she could see how these species could be combined with native grasses and shrubs to create a more contemporary area. Stainless-steel wire used for the balustrades on the verandah was easily removed and replaced with cascading rock beds, mediating the change in level from the deck to the garden.
Known as the Tree Change House, it received a commendation from the Australian Institute of Australia (NSW regional chapter) this year in the Residential Architecture – Houses (Alterations and Additions) category. It has been completely reworked within its concrete blockwork and rendered brickwork, with new steel roofs over the home’s two separate but interconnected wings.
The main part of the house was conceived like a “stream”, with stone paving on the floor all the way from the front entrance to the rear terrace. Tallow wood in its natural state was used for the joinery, the floors and the chunky timber rafters, with Zulaikha suggesting it has a “nuts-and-berries feel” (created by exposing materials to provide a rustic aesthetic; a style associated with a number of well-known Sydney architects from the 1960s, such as Ken Woolley and Bruce Rickard). Laurence’s art is also now integrated within the architecture, with glass art framed in timber adjacent to the front door, welcoming guests upon arrival. Her art is also found in the kitchen as an extension of the splashback.
So what did Zulaikha, a co-director of Sydney-based architecture practice Studio Zawa, and Laurence see that others didn’t when they first inspected the property? There were high ceilings (3.3 metres) throughout and every room was directly linked to the verandah and thus connected to the garden. The house also came with a great floorplan and two wings (one on either side of the kitchen/dining area) that offered flexibility. One wing now includes the main bedroom and a separate yoga room, the other an equal-sized bedroom and a separate library.
“You need to look at the DNA in a building and work with what you have,” says Zulaikha. “There’s the sense of space here – and look at this backdrop,” adds Laurence, whose art is inspired by nature. She also recalls her first visit, when they arrived in muddy gumboots only to be greeted by the agent wearing a finely pressed linen dress. “We didn’t really need to take off our boots to see inside,” adds Zulaikha. “We just saw the opportunities.”
The Bonnet House
Architect Eva-Marie Prineas, director of Studio Prineas, was likewise not put off by a house with a fairly bland facade in Artarmon, on Sydney’s lower north shore. When Prineas first visited the property with the owners, a couple with two children, she wasn’t distracted by the brown-painted pipes nor its mushroom colour.
It came with “good bones”, despite flimsy ad hoc additions to the late 1920s Californian bungalow. Pulling the house down was not an option; it is located in a conservation area. Prineas, who worked with Serenescapes Landscape Designs, says a two-metre slope rising to the rear of the back garden made the house and garden feel disjointed.
The home’s facade was tweaked with a lick of cream paint that camouflaged the brown pipes, and new timber battens were placed on the gables – the latter typical of the 1920s period. A bordering hedge helped to soften the sharper angles of the partially enclosed front porch, which is large enough to sit in and engage with neighbours strolling past.
“The main problem was the lack of light getting into the house; it was quite dark, but there are still some lovely details,” says Prineas, pointing out the terrazzo tread positioned below the front door and the scalloped lintels above the doors inside.
With a brief to create a family home, the lean-tos were demolished and a new level added, with the first floor constructed in textured fibre cement and painted an olive green to sit comfortably with the trees. Barely visible from the street, the Bonnet House, as it’s known, has a new addition connected via an enclosed, glazed link with courtyard-style gardens either side. Crazy-paving stone floors extend from the kitchen and living areas onto the terrace, with large picture windows framing a swimming pool. And while the original house was touched lightly, the bathrooms were renovated, now featuring terrazzo surfaces evocative of the 1920s and ’30s.
“Most of our projects revolve around working with what’s there, making each place a better version of itself,” says Prineas. “Sometimes it’s about adding or removing things, knowing what to edit as much as what to leave.” And while she stops short of calling the original house “ugly”, she realises that she wouldn’t have an architectural practice if every home she and her team worked on was picture-perfect.
House Freddie
Studio Bright has received several architectural awards, with a number for the renovation of “unfashionable” houses. The renovation of a 1970s house in the Melbourne suburb of Kew received the prestigious John and Phyllis Murphy Award in 2024. This year, the renovation of a 1960s orange brick house in Glen Iris, known as House Freddie, received a commendation from the Australian Institute of Architects (Victorian chapter) in the Residential Architecture – Houses (Alterations and Additions) category. Bought by a couple with three children, the solid brick house has large picture windows and benefits from being on a corner that allows for considerable natural light and connection to the street and neighbours.
While House Freddie could have been completely gutted, the architects focused on creating a new kitchen, bathrooms and a two-level wing to one side of the home, orientated to the north. Taking their design cue from the original concrete breeze blocks that formed a screen for the carport, a contemporary version now creates a veil for the garage and the wing. At ground level, there’s a living area and a kitchen. A few steps below is the dining area, contained within the new wing; a main bedroom suite is located above. A picture window allows for views of Melbourne’s skyline once the deciduous trees have shed their leaves.
The kitchen, like the original lounge, is now clad in insulated plywood, including the ceilings, with Castlemaine stone on the floor extending from the dining area to the outdoor terrace. “One of the problems we face with older houses is increasing their thermal performance,” says architect Mel Bright, director of Studio Bright, who feels these problems can be addressed. The reworking of the garden by landscape architects Peachy Green also transformed not just the house, but also the streetscape on two fronts.
David and Angela (surnames withheld) purchased the house in 2014 with little trepidation. “David studied architecture for a couple of years so he was immediately drawn to the house; in my case, it was more about the ‘feel’,” says Angela, who was attracted by the natural light. “Most of the houses we -inspected were fairly dark. Here, there are generous windows.”
When many of the couple’s friends saw the place for the first time, they assumed the -orange bricks would be painted. “Why would you? They’re original,” was the response. Although House Freddie is more than sufficient for a couple with three children, at approximately 300 square metres and with four bedrooms, it’s considered modest in comparison to many new homes. “Bigger isn’t necessarily better,” adds Angela.
Rather than try to camouflage the 1970s, the original home has been beautifully enhanced, with the window frames and eaves painted Jeep Green, an olive hue that responds to the native garden. “People don’t think twice about purchasing a period home, a Victorian or Federation [turn-of-the-20th century],” says Mel Bright. “But houses from the 1950s and ’60s are certainly less frilly and you don’t have the typical shotgun corridors running from the front door to the back garden, so they offer more flexible floorplans.”
And unlike many brand-new homes that cover most of the plot, this house allows you to live outside and connect with neighbours. “I think we’ve become too obsessed with -privacy as much as style,” Bright says.
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Stephen Crafti is a specialist in contemporary design, including architecture, furniture, fashion and decorative arts.
