On small practice with ...

Brit Andresen Andresen O’Gorman Architects; Ben Berwick Prevalent; Nic Brunsdon Nic Brunsdon; Matthew Eagle ME; Kate Fitzgerald Whispering Smith; Clare Kennedy Five Mile Radius; Jennifer McMaster Trias; Amy Muir Muir; Phillip Nielsen Regional Design Service; Peter Stutchbury Peter Stutchbury Architecture

Anita Panov/Andrew Scott: Please describe how you currently practise.

Clare Kennedy: Before Five Mile Radius, I worked in large practice, as did many of my collaborators. As my architectural experience grew, I became overwhelmed by the complexity of material detailing in projects: layer upon layer of different materials, glued, screwed and nailed together, with little concern placed on where they came from or how they might be taken apart and recycled. Five Mile Radius is, in many ways, a reaction to these questions and an honest investigation into better alternatives.

Kate Fitzgerald: Whispering Smith is a staunchly feminist architecture practice.

We’re actually quite staunch about a lot of things, like better design, more equitable and successful architectural businesses, and – sometimes – just architecture itself…

If something needs a champion, we’ll likely find ourselves strapping in at some point.

Jennifer McMaster: Like so many people, we are currently rewriting our studio’s biography. Normally, we work from a small shopfront in Darlinghurst, which is lovingly littered with samples, models and scraps of trace. Right now, we are working from our kitchen tables and learning to rebuild our practice via pixelated screens.

To uphold our studio’s principles, we conduct weekly design review sessions, where we all get to muck in and make suggestions. Beyond that, we trust people to think through problems independently and rigorously. We try to cultivate a working environment that gives space and slack, so there is room to create.

Ben Berwick: We have a number of adaptive re-use commercial and cultural projects underway, which aim to have as wide-reaching a positive effect within their community as possible – like a node – while being constructed using as little material as possible, oftentimes acting as a store for a large amount of recycled material. Our research with a number of universities looks at incredibly small-scale architecture – [something as small as] a window covering that focuses on energy generation and natural illumination [can have far-reaching impacts].

Our aim is to produce a product with as wide-reaching an effect, with as minimal intervention, as possible. AP/AS: We would consider your practice, within the spectrum of practices, to be small. Could you please tell us why have you chosen to practise as you do?

Matthew Eagle: It was initially out of necessity: I had to start somewhere and we were just working on a small number of small extensions or new houses for young families – and continue to do so. As it has evolved, I have found [small practice] to be incredibly flexible and agile. It allows me to spend meaningful time with my young family, teach and still work on a range of different projects in a focused and thorough manner. We plan to stay at this size for the foreseeable future, as I have found [that] if we grew to be any larger, it would limit [our] capacity to focus on the process and rigour of outcomes. I view the practice as a long-term proposition; we are only young and have plenty of time to evolve.

Peter Stutchbury: A small practice may be designed as one that is able to manage a clear philosophy, [with] every work explained and further developed through principles, [and] those principles nurtured and built upon by the office collective. There is a moment at which management overrides design time. This is a function of a myriad of factors; nevertheless, it moves the principles away from the original thinking that drives outcome.

We remain small to ensure design principles are carried holistically throughout the project. Project architects enrich the outcome, [and] a small practice promotes awareness of all persons and their project status.

CK: Keeping our office small was a conscious decision to figure out what we stand for and how to practise in this way before we grow. It’s our way to avoid common issues within contemporary architectural practice that arise from undertaking projects which compromise professional ethics.

For this reason, we’ve chosen to take an entrepreneurial approach to practice, testing funding models that combine design projects with product design, educational courses, research grants and crowdfunding campaigns.

Having a range of income streams helps fund our material exploration and allows us to be quite conscious about which projects we take on.

Amy Muir: I do like being intimately involved in the detail of projects and the scale of the practice affords this luxury.

Brit Andresen: While it has been a more difficult path in Australia, to perform as a professor who practises and teaches, we were able to combine architectural research, writing and design to inform both our educational role and architectural practice.

KF: I think this is exactly the forum to talk about how small IS big, right? Whispering Smith is a small unit, but we’re an integral part of a much larger community. We built, and are the head tenants and co-founders of, our studio space, which has freelancers, landscape architects, interior architects and a builder.

I also think [your chosen form of practice] comes with knowing how you derive your sense of contentment in life. I know myself from life experience that working side by side with people that care about each other, have fun together and generally wake up looking forward to the day gives depth and meaning to life that is quite precious. We chart our way through all our practice and business decisions with our compass pointing towards this guiding ethos. AP/AS: Do you see that manner of practising as crucial to the quality of the architecture you produce?

AM: I am a big believer in combining practice, education and advocacy in order to allow for a broad and expansive understanding of the industry that we operate in. They all equally inform each other and play a large part in the underpinnings of the practice’s mode of operation.

JM: Absolutely. Being a team of six, we’re able to share and shoulder responsibilities without losing complete awareness of the bigger picture. In many ways, this relates to headspace, as there’s only so much you can hold onto and still do well.

Similarly, with a small team, we can refine and realize our practice’s position very easily. We learn quickly and constantly, and relay what we learn in real time. This allows us to embed our agenda within our day-to-day decisions, keeping our team agile and aligned.

ME: Absolutely. We are able to maintain consistency and rigour of process while also enabling staff to authentically engage in the process.

KF: Unequivocally yes. In the same way that we have our guiding ethos in our practice, we have that sense of equality and empathy in our work, and with the clients we collaborate with. We are always balancing our values and expectations in the decisions our clients trust us to make: Is this Australian-made?

Why not? Is it going to last? Be fit for purpose? Is it sustainable? Is there something we can do to make this better?

You suggested that “small is no longer simply less” and I believe that statement opens up the possibility of redefining what “more” is. For Whispering Smith, “small” is also “more” – more crafted, more sustainable, more delightful.

Nic Brunsdon: I don’t see the size of my practice as being the determining factor in the quality of work we produce. In fact, there are great liberations that come from extra support. While it is true, for the most part, that large practices produce large projects and small practices produce small projects, really interesting things happen when you flip each. For example, the expertise, resources and structure that a large firm can bring to a small project, or the skilled, crafted and intuitive response a small practice can bring to a large project, can produce Australia’s best architecture.

What is common through both is curiosity. As long as that is present, scale is unimportant.

Phillip Nielsen: The way we practise is intrinsically linked to our belief in the value of design and our desire to share this belief and knowledge with rural inhabitants.

Our studio is open to the public as a “community living room,” to encourage even more dialogue with who we are, what we do and why we do it.

We measure the success of our projects against how the community responds and engages with them. One day, I was ordering a coffee [in a cafe we’d designed] when a community member asked if she could show me something. We walked over to a new chair and she

lifted it up to hang the arms on the edge of the table. “Look at this! They can now mop underneath without having to stack the chairs every day,” she said. To which I replied, “I know – that’s why we specified them.” In this moment, I could see the cogs turning in her head as she realized that this wasn’t an accident, it was by design. AP/AS: What is it that you love most about the way in which you practise?

BB: Diversity.

In large practice, the wide gamut of an architect’s skillset is narrowed for specificity and apparent efficiency, for losses that are not directly measurable. Projects (and design itself) are divided into neat sections. In reality, this is not the case. Every phase, junction, program and material is interconnected. Small practice parallels more closely the real-world scenario.

We take this further – not just within our industry, but by combining with complementary industries, whether it be health, science, engineering or the humanities. In the end, a project affects so many aspects of the ecosystem we are a part of – the community, the environment, the economy, digital or physical. Small practice has the flexibility of deciding what is and is not within [the] jurisdiction of architecture or project.

CK: Our studio makes a deliberate attempt to be hands-on with all our projects. We’ve built an openair workshop adjacent to our office so we can get outside to create prototypes and test ideas. We took great inspiration, initially, from practices like Studio Mumbai, where carpenters mock up alongside architects, creating a constant feedback loop between designer and maker that eventually works to refine a detail and eliminate excess.

NB: I don’t particularly love practise. I love the product of practise. I love architecture. Practice is difficult. It’s a slog and it requires everything from you. It requires broad and constant care.

AM: The importance of defining the idea and the process that unfolds to arrive at this point. Research plays a large part in the commencement of any project, irrespective of its scale. This is about understanding and questioning site, historical context, nuances, place. A process of agitation.

BA: The dual roles of teaching and small practice, which allow the exploration of architectural ideas as well as demonstrating these in our built works to students.

JM: We love that we remain committed to the architectural process: we don’t really take shortcuts. We draw, we produce collages and we always make physical models. We don’t do this from a position of romanticism; rather, we feel these tasks are essential to producing the best possible buildings. They are also irreplaceable tools in communicating a design’s evolution to our clients and peers.

ME: The flexibility – to be able to engage with and see my children grow up [while] still being able to teach and to focus on each individual project. We spend a considerable amount of time researching, testing and trialling ideas, and to finally see a result is incredibly fulfilling. Also, the close and authentic engagement you have with your staff – you just don’t get that in larger practices. Watching them grow is also very fulfilling.

PN: We love how, in three years, our community has welcomed us into the fold. There are days when we walk down the street and have total strangers stop us to shake our hand and say thanks for giving them better designed places.

AP/AS: What are the most profound changes you have seen in the practise of architecture during your career?

AM: That time is your enemy. It is a commodity [whose] value has been stripped of its potency. Project procurement processes no longer recognize the value that [time] brings in defining quality and safe built outcomes. Hindsight is our constant reminder that the cutting of corners never results in a good outcome.

BA: Since the 1990s, architectural education has undergone profound changes, and on many levels. Today, it is rare to find a professor who has a practice and teaches in a full-time academic position.

KF: We are witnessing a paradigm shift in the values that drive our decisions on the way we want to live and, consequently, what we want to live in. We are asking society to put a cost against the things we want, and we are now aware of the real price being paid for those things – carbon emissions, deforestation, pollution, climate change, slavery, loss of biodiversity. For so long, the metrics were simpler: Progress is positive. Development is good. Building a home for your family is terrific. Designing a very attractive, well-considered building will win you an award.

Now, as a profession, we are fully experiencing the kaleidoscope of impact stemming from every choice we make, knowing we must continue to make, to create, and to design within this shifting miasma of complexity. It is a challenge, but [as architects we are] deliberately trained to embrace and comprehend a synthesis of concepts, parameters and forces. Perhaps this will be the remaking of architecture as a frontline profession through one of the most profound changes the world has ever seen.

ME: I am writing this on a day that cafes, restaurants, pubs and clubs are closed around the country. Queues extend for blocks at local Centrelink service centres. Queensland has announced the closure of its borders, and the list goes on. It does highlight that the circumstances under which we are practising are

constantly changing. Some of this is only possible with advancements in technology – I am not sure how it could have occurred 20 years ago.

The optimist in me sees this as a period to structurally implement flexible working arrangements, engage new methods of communicating, contribute meaningfully to our community and reconsider our current behaviours around consumption.

NB: Probably the celebration of the personality of practice and the opening up of inner workings to the world. Which is all about digital media platforms – and specifically Instagram … which has been an incredible instrument for the connection of practice to practice and between practice and the enquiring public. It has [resulted in] a transformation, from practices appearing stoic and opaque to personable and real. This is where smaller practice has the edge. It’s much easier to control your brand and voice when you’re small and there is an almost imperceptible line between you and your business.

PS: When we first began, in 1980, it was T squares, adjustable squares, drawing boards and butter paper. When one sweated, the paper swelled and the drawing suffered. A razor blade was used when mistakes were made to scratch ink off the paper. One was completely engaged, at a tactile level, with the processes that create the architecture. Time was different – the process demanded time and that time rotated around the architecture.

Time has now reset. Our day starts with a phone, not a sunrise. Our work starts with a mouse, not a moment to capture in a sketch. Our work proceeds at speed, sifting endless communication into useful, maybe and useless. Our time to be creative has shifted.

Much more time [is spent] communicating, less time thinking, ‘When was the last time you sketched? Or sat and celebrated [a] full moon rise?’

AP/AS: What do you see as the most relevant direction, or critical engagement, for the future of architecture practise?

PN: It seems obvious to me, but we need to talk less to ourselves about the issues we face and more with the users of the places we design. As a profession, we need to work out how to better encourage curiosity and broader knowledge about the designed world.

CK: We’re witnessing a shift towards architects honestly assessing the impacts of their work, not only on society and the environment but also on their professional integrity. We hope for the rise of a collective consciousness that could ultimately lead to positive shifts in construction culture and a reinstatement of the value of the architect.

It’s also time we learn to truly collaborate with professions outside of design. With economists, environmentalists, primary industries and policymakers to find new ways of working that look more broadly at societal change.

AM: As architects, we are trained to be lateral thinkers, problem solvers, and to have the ability to review situations through a holistic lens. We take this for granted, but these are skills that can be applied broadly and persuasively.

BA: With the [current] funding model for universities and ever diminishing budgets, the teaching of architectural design in our schools is challenging.

Greater advocacy for quality architectural teaching and design research in the schools is critical for the future of architectural practice.

KF: We see the future of architecture as being directly aligned with our profession’s ability to develop as a business. The architecture practices of the future are the ones who are finding ways to re-imagine not just our role, but the actual business of how we plan, finance and construct the built environment. We believe that financially successful practices are the practices of the future. As Jafar from Disney’s Aladdin says, “Whoever has the gold makes the rules.” If we want to step up to the plate and change the game, we’ll need to be running successful, intelligent businesses that are age, race and gender diverse.

ME: Our environment, community, empathy and authenticity.

PS: Communication is a temptation to us all. Pinterest, Instagram – images. The international community is seduced by images. Images of drought, fire, flood and virus are momentary; humans forget occurrences unless touched. While images of style are personal, universal, easy to comprehend, architecture has become largely singular as a consequence, and response to local conditions secondary.

Minimal carbon footprint, low embodied energy economies … will begin to drive architecture as resources diminish. We cannot keep taking – it’s common sense.

BB: Reconnection to nature. The ability to see and understand what we produce, assemble, and place into the world as part of the larger ecosystem. AP/AS: Are there aspects of your practice that you externalize in order to remain small?

KF: Whispering Smith has a very close-knit group of makers and trades that have emerged with us, in a way, and we have shaped their work as much as they have shaped ours. We rely heavily on shared IP with our preferred contractors, and we believe that there is no substitute for high-quality relationships in and

around our practice. As a small practice, we don’t have volume or man hours on our side to produce vast drawings sets, so we have “externalized” some of our work by investing in the people that deliver it outside of the practice.

ME: Next to none.

NB: Yes. I’ve been transitioning over the last few years to a project-based studio. This means we have a number of functions that continue on in the background, while our workforce is adaptable. This way, we can deploy the correct amount of resources with the correct skill sets to the correct projects. It has been a tool to help us remain applied to a range of project scales and practice workloads.

AM: We regularly collaborate with other practices and this has become a wonderful way to work on larger scale projects and to pursue areas of specific interest.

BB: For us, it isn’t directly a case of what we internalize or externalize, but the type, scale and timelines of the projects we take on. Given the unusual nature of our work, we are fortunate that many of our clients are direct and sorted. Through our image, we choose our clients as much as they choose us. Many are smaller scale commercial clients that run businesses and would like to expand. Decisions are made swiftly, yet accurately.

AP/AS: What are your processes for engagement with others, such as colleagues, students and the general public?

JM: In our studio, we engage with others in manifold ways. Within the industry, we chair and take part in various committees, we write and deliver lectures, and we organize an occasional book club. We also teach, which gives us contact with remarkable professionals and students. In short, we do our bit to cultivate culture, in our city and beyond.

We consider our engagement with the general public to perhaps be of the most importance.

Architecture so badly needs to shift its perception of being a luxury good, and this won’t happen without us being more communicative and relatable.

Our biggest public outreach is through our Instagram account. While social media and the attention economy are, in many ways, highly problematic, we do like Instagram for its format of paired images and text. We use it to share our process, teach others about architecture, and reflect on what we do as a studio and profession.

CK: When we design a project, we always concurrently design a series of aligning educational programs, taking inspiration from firms like Brussels Cooperation [BC Architects and Studies] and Colorado Building Workshop, where practices work with students on real case-study projects. We’ve run our own workshops and partnered with universities looking for ways to give students additional onsite construction experience.

PS: A small office promotes localized sharing. An open office facilitates the same. An office philosophy attracts like-minded persons such that, eventually, the poetry is moments of inspiration and the prose is the way we speak – common language.

The unfolding work communicates intimate thinking to personal issues. As we learn to be open and honest, the pathway is made clear toward our form of storytelling. We rely on communication.

We have a foundation (Architecture Foundation Australia) that has conducted classes since 2001 – 1,800 students from over 82 countries. Students are a wonderful source of inspiration and innocent idealism.

BB: With Prevalent, we engage regularly with colleagues outside of the profession of architecture, but rarely with those within it. This isn’t a stance against the profession, but of recognizing the power of true collaboration between professionals with different skill sets, and the value that can add to the architect and architecture.

PN: In 2018, we started hosting public events that delve into the context, value and process of design. These hour-long events explore an aspect of design with as little archi-speak as possible (I’m still working on that). We average about 30 attendees who predominantly don’t have any design background. Our first talk approached aspects of 1800s society, including the invention of the car and post-Industrial Revolution health acts which directly influenced the Modernist movement.

AP/AS: Have you ever experienced or considered working at a large scale and/or in a large office?

JM: We have dipped our toes into some larger projects, with mixed results. Undoubtedly, there are two things we adore about bigger projects. This first is being able to collaborate with other studios, an experience we’ve found inspiring and humbling. The second is the scale of work we’ve encountered, which will undoubtedly affect more people than a lone house or a small addition. We’ve also loved the challenge and complexity of these larger design problems.

At the same time, we have struggled with other aspects of larger scale work. The timescales of delivery have often felt rushed, which has left us feeling flustered. We have also been challenged by the more peripheral role of the architect. In smaller projects, with tight-knit teams, the architect has a very integral role. In larger projects, we have at times felt disconnected from – and disempowered by – the decision-making process.

KF: I did try a few times, but I wasn’t the best largepractice employee. One night, as a student, I did a few

measly hours of unpaid overtime and walked past the director’s desk on my way out, late at night. I was expecting a “thanks” or a “see you” but he didn’t even look up. It made me realize that [growing up] I had had a lifelong exposure to being appreciated and valued for contributing, and that wasn’t in the DNA of a big practice at the time. I was a woefully unskilled, opinionated student who was unlikely to be of any value for many years to come. But I did have the background and, thanks to that one experience, the driving determination to one day be a much better director.

BB: Yes. I worked for four years in a mid- to largesize office in Sydney, on projects at varying scales, some very large. Similarly, working for the more design-orientated Japanese architecture firms [including SANAA and Sou Fujimoto Architects], while the firm may be small- to mid-size, due to the nature of collaboration between design architect and local architect, some project scales could be phenomenal – from the scale of hospitals or universities to entire towns.

The difference is distance between architect and site or finished product. This constraint of distance is rarely found in small practice. Every detail is considered for the task at hand and decided on by the architect. It’s a question of control.

AP/AS: Would you like to make a statement about working with limit, with responsibility for others, but also with joy?

CK: Working with local materials is a conscious way to limit excess in our design work. It’s a grounding constraint that not only helps to narrow focus,

[but also] adds professional accountability. We consider the implications of our material choices on the land, trying to not over capitalize on resources or create waste issues upon deconstruction. Alternatively, we consider how our material choices can create economic opportunities or strengthen existing cultural identities. Ultimately, this is a very rewarding way to practise – to take a regenerative approach where you value your relationship with your surrounding environment above all else.

AM: “Place” and our relationship to this condition is paramount in any project. Constraints and limits encourage a direct response and a process of agitation to unfold, allowing projects to settle into their sites.

Constraints fill the design process with joy. We thrive on constraints, as they become the condition for working up against something.

NB: I think the idea of working with limit applies to all scales and gives pause to binary thinking. Limits apply everywhere: in our practice, in our projects, in our people, in our relationships, in our expectations, in our size, in our environment, in our ecology, in our codes, in our finances, in our economies, and in time. Joy is found in the acceptance of these things.

PS: Invariably, small offices work in a self-directed discipline. They dream with hope and desire – chasing the evasive maximum. Innocence, versatility and low overheads are their advantage. Risks are sewn into the fabric and time gives way to the high of a successful presentation.

There is no limit – unless personal; no time to dwell; we are nurtured by brief shelter.

Our responsibility begins with self: to feel the fire and manage the heat; to pursue truth as a matter of fact; to share knowledge; to improve last thoughts and thereby include others and be included.

The spirit is not a neutral energy. People care – once united in good intent, all are advantaged, joy a consequence.

As we learn to work with dignity, to see the whole, the architecture mirrors the frame of mind.

BA: In so much contemporary architecture, the important missing step in the process is the synthesis of what appear to be incompatible intentions; the poetic as well as the pragmatic.

PN: When we founded the studio, our peers and mentors feared we were negatively limiting the business, [offering] comments like, “Your name restricts you to regional work,” or, “There isn’t enough work, good budgets or quality briefs [in the regions].” We treated the numerous fears as a call to arms.

If we failed, they were right; if we succeeded, we’d create some meaningful change.

Our hope is that every designer can experience the joy of a stranger thanking them for delivering better designed places.

JM: Terms like “limit” and “responsibility” have taken on a whole new meaning amidst the current climate crisis. They are no longer indulgences but have become imperatives.

For far too long, the language around the climate crisis has been alarmist and dire; it has focused on being without. As a studio, we are now interested in shifting this conversation to one that is hopeful, where our buildings can be small, smart and sustaining of life. This crisis will make us better architects, who produce far better buildings – where “better” becomes less myopic and more expansive.

The events defining 2020 will undoubtedly change our society and culture. Amidst this shift, we have a genuine opportunity to recalibrate our responsibilities to our cities, our environment and our planet. This, to us, brings its own kind of joy: one underpinned by focus and purpose.