The University of Canterbury’s RECOVER project (Reef Ecology and Coastal Values, Earthquake Recovery) is a research programme funded by the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment (MBIE), and supported by the Ministry of Primary Industries (MPI). It has been evaluating recovery from the 7.8 Mw Kaikōura earthquake in the coastal environment between Oaro in the south and Marfells Beach in the north. The project has documented a wide range of biological and physical impacts in the coastal environment over the past four years. These include the widespread mortality of habitat-forming species that support characteristic ecosystems and natural resources on the coast (Alestra et al. 2021; Schiel et al. 2019; Tait et al. 2021). Due to the popularity of the coast for recreational use, interactions between people and the recovering environment are an important influence on recovery processes. These interactions may include threats to the natural environment but also the potential for positive interventions that could help to restore natural ecosystems and resources – including those that have been degraded in the past. Physical effects of uplift at the coastline include the seaward movement of shorelines and creation of new land above the reach of the tide, leading to a widening of beaches (Orchard et al. 2020; Orchard et al. in press). This has also provided a greater opportunity for off-road vehicle access to sections of the coast previously protected by headlands that were impassable at high tide (Marlborough District Council 2019; Orchard 2020). MDC management responses have included the development of a proposed bylaw to reduce the impacts of motor vehicle use in the area (Marlborough District Council 2021). Changes in the position of the sea-level on the landscape also affect the location of characteristic ecosystems such as sand dunes and storm beaches as they recover to a new norm. Notable changes include the establishment of new dunes closer to the sea which could potentially lead to the degradation of old dune systems that may experience reduced sand supply as a result. Wildlife habitat has also been affected by these uplift and re-assembly effects although the specific impacts remain largely unknown. This report contributes to a collaborative project between the Marlborough District Council (MDC) and University of Canterbury (UC) which aims to help protect and promote the recovery of native dune systems on the Marlborough coast. It is centred around the mapping of dune vegetation and identification of dune protection zones for old-growth seed sources of the native sand-binders spinifex (Spinifex sericeus) and pīngao (Ficinia spiralis). Both are key habitat-formers associated with nationally threatened dune ecosystems (Holdaway et al. 2012), and pīngao is an important weaving resource and Ngāi Tahu taonga species. The primary goal is to protect existing seed sources that are vital for natural regeneration following major disturbances such as the earthquake event. Several additional protection zones are also identified for areas where new dunes are successfully regenerating, including areas being actively restored in the Beach Aid project that is assisting new native dunes to become established where there is available space.
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.
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.
