KRINGASARCHITECTURE

"First glimpses of the Jenkins' Farmhouse, near Albury, intrigued those attending the recent RAIA awards ceremony in Canberra. The view of a simple, finely detailed glass pavilion of living space offering beautiful panoramic vistas of the rural landscape provoked natural enchantment. The silver jewel of a kitchen fascinated all and an end profile showing a sliver of roof projecting from a curved brick enclosure suggested the wing of a local wedge-tailed eagle. Finally, there appeared in a distant view against the blue sky the most curious aspect of all - a procession of variously configured deep red solid upright forms across the windswept field of grass. Not unlike archaeological remains of ancient human endeavours, these mysterious markings in the landscape had a particularly magical lure. Such images provoke us to ask what is this about? Why is it like this? How did it come to be? Similarly, on site, first impressions of what might be simply described as a long steel and glass living pavilion supported by a masonry spine of services could evoke bewilderment in the layman and architect alike. Choices in the form and materials might confront the conventional notions of 'house'. Combinations of two different approaches to building (the modern openness of steel and glass versus the ancient enclosure of masonry) might seem disconcerting. The same questions arise - of what, why and how. Often for architects and clients, reaching the successful design solution can represent a laborious process of questioning and examining preconceptions in order to create what becomes an exceptionally wonderful place to be. Similarly, those drawn to such places go through a process of raising questions, setting aside initial emotive images and previous associations before coming to understand them as attentive, ingenious and diligently wrought responses to strongly felt needs by a group of people in a particular set of circumstances. Occasionally, we come to appreciate them as expressions enriching our experience. Such might be the case in examining the Jenkins' farmhouse. The Jenkins are clients with busy working lives as well as being graziers with a strong commitment to their land. They required a three-bedroom house with an office. The performance demands for the house were practical and direct. It had to work economically, efficiently and effectively for their life and work. Durability, low maintenance, and thermal comfort were high priorities. The chosen site on the property near Albury is a ruggedly magnificent lookout point: a gentle rise in the valley from which to survey the pastoral land below and behold a 180 degree view of the surrounding ridge line as it meets the sky in the distance. As with many captivating outdoor places, it can become inhospitable very quickly, whether by the heat of the sun, the chill of the wind or the bite of the insects. The nature of shelter on such a site soon becomes a question of how does one make this place habitable without changing it into something else? A simple way to visualise the central organising concept of this project, from which all other design decisions will begin to emerge, is to think of the building as a linear path along the rise of the hill running east to west. The path becomes a threshold, separating two landscapes. To the north is the expansive rushbed valley rising to the natural cliffs and horizon; to the south, the more domestic and ordered fruit and vegetable garden. The northern and southern edges of the path become the living (steel and glass) and service (masonry) areas respectively, each strongly differentiated according to function and conditions. The significance of the linear arrangement of masonry forms on the southern edge is suggested to the visitor immediately upon arrival. A water tank fed by a beautifully crafted gutter spout from above, is embraced by an extension of the brick wall, which moves through the building to re-emerge in the landscape at the other end of the path. Previous associations and classical constructions of another place (Louis Kahn's service towers also come to mind), soon give way to impressions more comfortable with this place as the formation echoes in colour and form the red clay of the soil and the cliffs. The mysteriously evocative arrangement of masonry forms we saw in the field of grass will be seen to be what makes habitation of the exposed look-out possible in a number of ways. It provides thermal mass for optimising temperature and fundamental shelter to the site by turning its back on the cold southerly winds. It brings the water to the site, providing efficient layout for its collection, storage, solar heating and distribution, bathing and laundry areas. The spaces between the forms allow for movement in the reactive soil and light openings that draw cool air through the living spaces in summer. As the masonry forms buttress the steel pavilion, the placement of solid and void begin to suggest its patterns and the placement of structural elements , openings, finishes and fixtures . It defines the area for the garden on the south, leaving the northern view uncluttered by domestic implements. By carrying so much of the workload for the dwelling, the masonry construction gives the steel and glass pavilion the freedom to accommodate living spaces in a most advantageous and pleasurable way, according to function, size, light and outlook. The carefully detailed pavilion gives optimum solar exposure; the roof angled to allow the warmth of sun in winter and shade in summer, temperature quickly adjustable by ample cross-flow ventilation. Concerns about upkeep are met with materials that prove durable and maintenance-free in a dry climate, overhangs protecting it from the weather, and flush-detailing to avoid the accumulation of debris and pests. Views of the changing landscape are offered to all points. However intellectually controlled the design, the experience in it is emotionally exhilarating. A guest bedroom becomes a campsite from which to watch the stars at night. A study becomes the station office from which the grazier surveys the rush paddocks below. The master bedroom is filled with the song of birds at dawn. From the family gathering area one looks out on the changing light and colours of the full horizon.What might have appeared as a modernist import gives way to the feeling of an open rural shed more comfortable with the locale. As one steps in from the land under the shelter of its corrugated roof, the high-tech kitchen one expected becomes simply a billy on the fire. It also remains the lookout first chosen. As carefully disciplined in every aspect of the demands of function and place as this is, the nature of the experience it generates is quite liberating. One soon forgets about the house as an object or something to be managed. It allows and encourages the inhabitants to focus on what they have chosen: work on the land, life together and the joy of being in this place. In doing so, it begins to demonstrate a special capacity important to becoming architecture - to enlighten the perspectives from which we view the world, our place in it and how we conduct our lives.​ One must give tribute to both the designer and the client for the degree of commitment and courage, which would have been required to achieve it". 'Ridgelines', Architecture Review, Spring 2000.