Karen McCartney - 708090 Iconic Australian Houses Three Decades of Domestic Architecture

Sydney Opera House roof geometry, photographed by David Moore in 1966 clearly shows the construction of the shells and how the roof tiling was resolved after much experimentation.

INTRODUCTION

I LIKE TO BE ABSOLUTELY MODERN AND WORK AT THE EDGE OF THE POSSIBLE. JRN UTZON

THESE SAILS WERE SLOWLY GROWING increment by increment, and when a friend of mine got a job with Utzon, I thought if he can, I can, says Richard Leplastrier on witnessing the awe-inspiring structure of the Sydney Opera House begin to take shape. He wrote to Jrn Utzon and before long was part of his team, which comprised a handful of architects from Utzons office in Denmark and a cluster of young Australian graduate architects, like Leplastrier and Peter Myers, who had the mental agility and passion to work on the project.

There are many buildings in this book that have come about almost by chance fates sleight of hand in a different direction, and they would never have happened at all. This is also true of the Sydney Opera House, the foundations of which were laid in a city that, in spite of the post-war influx of European migrants, felt remote and removed from the vanguard of world architecture.

Much is made of international judge, Eero Saarinen, arriving late, and supposedly pulling the Utzon design from a pile of rejects. What is probably more accurate is Saarinens belief in the feasibility of the design when one takes a look at his TWA Terminal at New Yorks JFK Airport (formerly Idlewild), his understanding of engineering advances that enable the roofline to be liberated is clear. The statement from the jurors in The Sydney Morning Herald on January 30, 1957 reads: Because of its very originality it is clearly a controversial design. We are, however, absolutely convinced about its merits. It also, ironically, had a bold pull-quote, as part of the article, saying, Cheapest to build.

We now know it wasnt the initial, rather nave, estimate of 7 million dollars blew out to an eventual 102 million dollars by 1973 (the Opera House Lottery was set up to partly pay for it the last one was drawn in 1986). Utzon, the son of a naval architect with boatbuilding in his blood, once said, I like to be absolutely modern and work at the edge of the possible. That worked for a while, with many of the young Australian architects working on the project feeling completely invincible while the experimental Danish architect was in charge. But a change of State Government saw him forced to resign, leaving Australia in 1966, never to return. Australian architects led by Peter Hall finished the job, and when the Queen officially opened the building in 1973, Utzons name was not mentioned.

Graham Jahn, in his book Sydney Architecture notes that the scheme makes no reference to history or to classic architectural forms, and adds, The organic shape and lack of surface decoration have made it both timeless and ageless.

Its sculptural form ensures it has become one of our primary national symbols, which, even when reduced to a mere artists squiggle, still has the power, and the resonance, to say Sydney. In an age where brands are global currency, it has transcended its physical state and become a positive emblem for Sydney and, by default, Australia.

Sun patterns within the Sydney Opera House podium, photographed by David Moore in 1962, illustrates the intrinsic beauty and poetry of the building even during the early days of construction.

THE NEW RURAL

Like many great works of art it was ahead of its time and while Utzons personality inspired a number of Australian architects, it did not produce a corresponding aesthetic. For Richard Leplastrier it was Utzons lack of prejudice, his sensitivity to nature and his openness to new ideas that he appreciated and appropriated. By the time the Sydney Opera House opened, Leplastrier and Glenn Murcutt were beginning work on their groundbreaking projects the Palm House on Sydneys Northern Beaches and the Kempsey House, in rural New South Wales.

These projects were rarefied one-offs made possible by a close working relationship with enlightened clients. The discreet approach of Leplastriers house meant it was only seen by an admiring handful, and its lack of exposure has added to its mystique over the years. Murcutts Kempsey House, on the other hand, received a significant amount of press and public attention. While the less architecturally savvy might have labelled it a shed, albeit an elegant one, the profession could appreciate its Miesian floor plan and underpinning of modernism. The public, in turn, could identify with its form and materials. There was something familiar to hold onto and within the context of the vernacular, the floor plan didnt seem so challenging. Its rural setting and its honesty of construction anchored it squarely in the bush, which resonated broadly with Australians.