Researchers have begun to explore the opportunity presented by blue-green infrastructure(a subset of nature-based solutions that provide blue and green space in urban infrastructure)as a response to the pressures of climate change. The 2010/2011 Canterbury earthquake sequence created a unique landscape within which there is opportunity to experiment with and invest in new solutions to climate change adaptation in urban centres. Constructed wetlands are an example of blue-green infrastructure that can potentially support resilience in urban communities. This research explores interactions between communities and constructed wetlands to understand how this may influence perceptions of community resilience. The regeneration of the Ōtākaro Avon River Corridor (OARC) provides a space to investigate these relationships. Seven stakeholders from the community, industry, and academia, each with experience in blue-green infrastructure in the OARC, participated in a series of semi-structured interviews. Each participant was given the opportunity to reflect on their perspectives of community, community resilience, and constructed wetlands and their interconnections. Interview questions aligned with the overarching research objectives to (1) understand perceptions around the role of wetlands in urban communities, (2) develop a definition for community resilience in the context of the Ōtākaro Avon community, and (3) reflect on how wetlands can contribute to (or detract from) community resilience. This study found that constructed wetlands can facilitate learning about the challenges and solutions needed to adapt to climate change. From the perspective of the community representatives, community resilience is linked to social capital. Strong social networks and a relationship with nature were emphasised as core components of a community’s ability to adapt to disruption. Constructed wetlands are therefore recognised as potentially contributing to community resilience by providing spaces for people to engage with each other and nature. Investment in constructed wetlands can support a wider response to climate change impacts. This research was undertaken with the support of the Ōtākaro Living Laboratory Trust, who are invested in the future of the OARC. The outcomes of this study suggest that there is an opportunity to use wetland spaces to establish programmes that explore the perceptions of constructed wetlands from a broader community definition, at each stage of the wetland life cycle, and at wider scales(e.g., at a city scale or beyond).
Architecture and music have a long intertwining history.These respective creative forces many times have collaborated into monumental place, harboured rich occasion, been catalyst for cultural movement and defined generations. Together they transcend their respective identities. From dinky local church to monstrous national stadia, together they are an intense concentration, a powerfully addictive dosage where architecture is the place, music is the faith, and people are the reason. Music is a programme that architecture often celebrates in poetic and grand fashion; a superficial excuse to symbolise their creative parallels. But their relationship is much richer and holds more value than just the opportunity to attempt architectural metaphor.While music will always overshadow the architecture in the sense of a singular event, architecture is like the soundman behind the mixing desk. It’s not the star front and centre grabbing your attention, but is responsible for framing the star. It is the foundational backdrop, a critical pillar. Great architecture can help make great music. In this sense music is a communication of architecture, it is the ultimate creative function. Christchurch, New Zealand, is a city whose story changed in an instant. The seismic events of 2010 and 2011 have become the overriding subject of its historical narrative, as it will be for years to come. Disaster redefines place (the town of Napier, struck by an earthquake in 1931, exemplifies this). There is no quantifiable justification for an exploration of architecture and music within the context of Christchurch. The Town Hall, one of New Zealand’s most architecturally significant buildings, is under repair. The Christ Church Cathedral will more than likely be rebuilt to some degree of its former self. But these are echoes of the city that Christchurch was.They are saved because they are artefact. Evidence of history.This thesis makes the argument for the new, the better than before, and for the making of opportunity from disaster, by proposing a ‘new’ town hall, conceived from the sound of old.
The whare whakairo or traditional Māori meeting house plays an important part in Māori society and identity. These whare tell the tale of their origin, and in so doing, the origins of their people. The analysis of the meeting house, the histories expressed in its decorative carvings and structural elements are inextricably linked with and dependent upon the structure of the world created by myth and the Māori worldview. However, due to the deleterious effects of colonisation, the art of wood carving and associated architectural practices - central to Māori identity, suffered decline in many parts of the country, leading to the decline of Māori culture and identity. Sir Apirana Ngata instigated the National Institute of Māori Arts and Crafts to resurrect the dying art of Māori carving and carved houses would be a catalyst for the restoration of Māori culture throughout the country. Ngata saw these whare whakairo as being the heart of Māori communities by establishing a renewed sense of belonging and identification with space for Māori, through the telling of tribal histories and emphasising key geographical features. New threats in the form of global hegemony and urbanisation have further impacted on Māori notions of identity, creating a generation of displaced urban Māori youth. This research proposes to establish an architectural response to capture displaced Māori youth through the resurrection of the Māori carving school and return to them the lost stories of their cultural history and identity. This program will be developed within the complex challenges that exist within post-earthquake Ōtautahi/Christchurch, where many have lost homes and livelihoods, especially Māori youth in the Eastern Suburbs. The building elements of the proposed Māori carving school give reference to the historio-cultural features of the original Ōtautahi/Christchurch landscape that are situated in tribal song and myth. It is envisioned that the development of a Māori carving school will help restore Māori identity and a renewed sense of belonging, and allow for the telling of this generations stories through traditional narratives.
While societal messages can encourage an unhealthy strive for perfection, the notion of embracing individual flaws and openly displaying vulnerabilities can appear foreign and outlandish. However, when fallibility is acknowledged and imperfection embraced, intimate relationships built on foundations of acceptance, trust and understanding can be established. In an architectural context, similar deep-rooted connections can be formed between a people and a place through the retention of layers of historical identity. When a building is allowed to age with blemishes laid bare for all to see, an architectural work can exhibit a sense of 'humanising vulnerability' where the bruises and scars it bears are able to visually communicate its contextual narrative. This thesis explores the notion of designing to capitalise on past decay through revitalisation of the former Wood Brothers Flour Mill in Addington, Christchurch (1891). Known as one of the city's last great industrial buildings, the 130-year-old structure remains hugely impressive due to its sheer size and scale despite being abandoned and subject to vandalism for a number of years. Its condition of obsolescence ensured the retention of visible signs of wear and tear in addition to the extensive damage caused by the 2010-12 Canterbury earthquakes. In offering a challenge to renovation and reconstruction as a means of conservation, this thesis asks if 'doing less' has the potential to 'do more'. How can an understanding of architecture as an ongoing process inform a design approach to celebrate ageing and patina? While the complex is undergoing redevelopment at the time of writing, the design project embraces the condition of the historic buildings in the immediate aftermath of the earthquakes and builds upon the patina of the mill and adjacent flour and grain store in developing a design for their adaptation as a micro-distillery. Research into the traditional Japanese ideology of wabi-sabi and its practical applications form the basis for a regenerative design approach which finds value in imperfection, impermanence and incompleteness. The thesis combines a literature review, precedent review and site analysis together with a design proposal. This thesis shows that adaptive reuse projects can benefit from an active collaboration with the processes of decay. Instead of a mindset where an architectural work is considered the finished article upon completion of construction, an empathetic and sensitive design philosophy is employed in which careful thought is given to the continued preservation and evolution of a structure with the recognition that evidence of past wear, tear, patina and weathering can all contribute positively to a building's future. In this fashion, rather than simply remaining as relics of the past, buildings can allow the landscape of their urban context to shape and mould them to ensure that their architectural experience can continue to be enjoyed by generations to come.