A Choice Day out at the Auckland Waterfront

How much do we love New Zealand, huh? If you’ve ever spent a lazy Saturday enjoying Auckland’s waterfront before the realities of winter set in, you’d be forgiven for thinking this was the slice of heaven Dave Dobbyn was singing about, not some pouty chick...or Footrot Flats. (Go on, listen to it.  Nothing better than a bit of da-da-da to put you in a good mood)

I enjoyed just such a day in mid-April, at the end of the brilliant IFLA landscape conference and Gibbs Farm sculpture park field trip.  Judging from the crowds, about half of Auckland had the same idea.

Auckland has one of the kick-ass-est harbours in the whole world, and sailing seems to be a compulsory activity. Boats from all round the globe cosy up to each other in the berths. Just how sassy is Janice of Wyoming?

You can easily walk to the waterfront from the downtown area. If you’re coming from further afield the main Britomart train and bus station is just on the water’s edge. And if you’re heading for one of the harbour islands, this is the place to catch the ferry.

Auckland city was born at the waterfront in 1840. For a long time before that, the harbour was a vital, sacred part of Maori life. In recent years, spurred by hosting the 2000 America’s Cup and the 2011 Rugby World Cup, the working harbour has been gradually inviting the public back in. You can read more about the redevelopment, including the different precincts (Wynyard Quarter, North Wharf, Karanga Plaza, Silo Park and more) on the Waterfront Auckland website.

Here are my favourite moments: 

1. Lay out the Welcome Mat

This supergraphic barcode helps pedestrians navigate two carparks connected by an operating bascule bridge on their way to Wynyard Quarter.

2. Pop-up Library

Here, another welcome mat is laid out. This time it’s artificial turf that marks a little gathering spot in front of a shipping container library. Lilliputian furniture can be moved around to suit the sun.

3. Containers

Why stop at just one. The information kiosk deftly stacks containers into a sculptural heap to anchor one corner of Karanga Plaza. The public loos are here too, and it makes a natural backdrop for events and performances. The day I visited there was a piano in the plaza (tick!) and students played all day to advertise an upcoming concert. Special mention should also go to the superbly attired lady whose fabulous orange trousers hit just the right note beside the containers.  Respect.

4.  Different Types of Seats

Sometime different types of furniture can make a place look untidy and feel disjointed. That doesn’t seem to be the case here, maybe because the bridge crossings, changing path widths and varying neighbours make each of the precincts along the waterfront feel different anyway.

The seats in Karanga Plaza roll back and forth on rails. They’re also great if you and your friends can’t bear to be apart for even a moment.  The seats along North Wharf look like miniature versions of the piled-up shipping containers.  The seats outside the Viaduct Event Centre are bar stool height, behind a long concrete counter.

5.  Oasis

At the end of North Wharf, before it erupts into a giant playspace, is this quiet pocket with places to sit out of the hustle and bustle.

6.  Playtime on Steroids

Pros: This massive wonderland of play imagines what this part of the sea was once like. Giant shells, barnacles and other creatures can be climbed over, sat on or spun around and around. There’s also nets and swingy things, a vast bed of sand and a low wall of stones for practicing clambering and balancing. At the end of the play area is the sculpture Wind Tree, relocated from its former city home to a new shallow reflecting pond.  It doesn’t take much grey matter to figure out that this also attracts kids like crazy.

Cons: it’s so big because this is apparently a future development site. Let’s hope some place for play remains and it doesn’t all turn into a dreary, but revenue-generating, 9-5 office building.

7. Sexy Water Management

This is not just some pretty planting behind the containers, although it does look great.  Look closely and you can see that the planting beds are set down below the paving.  This allows water to run off into the planting where it’s filtered and cleansed before going back into the harbour.

The same thing happens at Silo Park at a much bigger scale. Stormwater runoff here is directed into a long linear channel, densely planted again, and criss-crossed with paths.

8.  Working

I love most about this part of Auckland’s waterfront is that it’s very much a working harbour.  The navy occupies a vast land holding to the east, and there is an gigantic shrink-wrapped vessel being repaired down near Silo Park. All very cloak-and-dagger.

Whilst disused silos form the backdrop to Silo Park, the silos of the bulk storage facility dominate the scene.  Some are painted and act as huge sculptural installations behind the gantry.

These sites operate around-the-clock, constantly bringing life, activity and people to the waterfront.

It’s a delicate balance, essential to get right, but for me it would be disastrous if all of this stretch of harbourfront was ‘cleaned up’ and industrial activities moved on to somewhere ‘out of sight’.

9.  Gantry

This 12m high, 110m long structure was built to 'screen' the bulk storage tanks behind.  Climb to the top and you'll get a great view into this part of the harbour that I find just as interesting as the parks and promenades, maybe more so.

It also reveals long views back towards the city, and along the entire waterfront public places, and is a perfect spot to watch life unfold.

10.  Weddings, Parties, Anything

The waterfront is a go-to place for quality Auckland people-watching and overheard conversations:

“I never knew this place was ****ing here, bro.”

“I know, bro.”

In just a few hours I saw plenty of tourists, but also locals who’d come down for a function, a wedding party having photographs taken, kids riding bikes, people running and exercising, those who’d brought their lunch with them, those who were headed for a restaurant, and those who were lining up for a pie or a coffee or a smoothie to have while sprawling at the picnic tables or on the lawn. Little kids were in the playground, bigger kids were at the basketball court.  The temporary summertime stalls were busy and the summer movie nights were still being advertised. Students lounged, couples canoodled, and the blue sky hung on as long as it could overhead.

And that’s the secret to great public space – enabling all different types of people feel welcome.

What do you think? If you’ve visited the Auckland Waterfront recently how did you find it? Leave a comment below letting me know what you liked best.

If you know someone who’d enjoy reading this article be sure to share it, and check back soon for more from the wonderful world of parks, gardens and landscapes.

Elvis Costello’s Landscape Lessons: 10 ideas from installation gardens

What exactly was Elvis Costello on about when he crooned "I don't want to go to Chelsea"?

I like to imagine an unfortunate childhood incident involving too much sunshine and an overdose of roses and sugary drinks courtesy of Great Aunt Fanny dragging the innocent lad around that fine bastion of Englishness, the Chelsea Flower Show.

I'm sure someone will set me straight.

Elvis notwithstanding, as the world’s gardening eyes turn this week to the opening of the 2013 Chelsea Flower Show, it seems a good time to chat about festival gardens. Can these temporary installation gardens provide clues to benefit our home landscapes, or are they a just a bit of a novelty, and waste of precious resources?

The worst garden festivals are truly throw-away. They last barely a few days, and a huge amount of time and effort is invested in making instant gardens that end up in landfill. The best garden festivals do things differently, often using materials and plants that can be recycled or reused, mulched or donated.  Most importantly, they invite us to think about our gardens and landscapes in different ways.

Here are 10 Ideas from Installation Gardens that can be used to help shape your own landscape. 

These images are all from the International Garden Festival, held every year in Chaumont-sur-Loire. Although the festival theme changes yearly, the over-arching aim of the festival is to inspire people to think differently about what a garden is, and can be. Garden festivals are but one of a range of temporary or installation parks that challenge us to re-think our landscapes. I find them so intriguing that I’ve devoted a whole chapter of my forthcoming book to discussing the world of Installation Parks.  But that's a whole other Elvis Costello song.

Now I want to hear from you.

Which of the 10 Ideas most appealed to you and why? Which can you see working in your garden landscape? Leave a comment below and let me know.

Know someone who might enjoy this article? Be sure to share it with your friends. See you soon for more landscape inspiration.

Big Prawn...Yawn: THIS sculpture park features the biggest from the world’s best

There’s nothing I love more than the opportunity to explore a new landscape. And if that landscape also happens to contain a couple of artworks, so much the better.

So it was with edge-of-the-seat anticipation that I joined 39 other curious people recently, on a bus headed to Gibbs Farm, about an hour north of Auckland.  The site visit was one of several on offer at the International Federation of Landscape Architects annual conference.

Although I was naturally fascinated to see the rural landscapes north of the city, (many with rich, diverse histories, and others under threat of encroachment by the growing city) it was the art that was calling my name.

But first some background.

Gibbs Farm is owned by Alan Gibbs, a well-known and uber-successful New Zealand businessman. He bought the original property over 20 years ago, and has added incrementally to his holdings. The farm lolls its way over rolling ridges, gullies and flats, in an ancient landscape surrounded by the stupendously spectacular Kaipara Harbour, the largest in the Southern hemisphere.

The scale of the landscape has, unintentionally, driven the art agenda: most of the works are the largest the artists have ever produced. From afar they look tiny, even insignificant. It’s not till you’re standing face-to-face with a 6 metre high rusted steel wall that the true scale actually registers.

So who are the artists who have created these vast wonderments?

Let’s start with that 6 metre high wall.

That would be Richard Serra’s Te Tuhirangi Contour (1999/2001). 

It’s made of 56 Corten steel plates, each 50mm thick and 6 metres high, and it runs for 252 metres.  That’s almost the length of 1-and-a-half jumbo jets. 

According to the visitor guide the “…steel plates lean out 11 degrees from the vertical and trace a single contour line across the land in a way that, in the artist’s words, “collects the volume of the land.”” 

This wall draws you in. The forty of us from the bus set off cross-country with hive mind determination. Like lemmings to the cliff we made for that wall. 

Once there, each panel continued to mesmerise, with miniature rusty landscapes of colour and pattern and texture extending out along the surface. 

Looking up for a moment, it was possible to see something on the distant horizon: a few bent paper clips perhaps? 

A reasonable hike instead revealed it to be Horizons, by Neil Dawson (1994).  Without something to give it scale, it looks like a wonderfully light calligraphic drawing, or maybe a piece of paper caught just at a moment of billowing in the breeze. 

Instead it’s a brilliant trompe l’oeil, etched in steel some 15 x 10 x 36 metres, and suggesting “…a giant piece of corrugated iron blown in from a collapsed water tank on some distant farm.” 

If Serra’s work collects the land, Dawson’s collects the sky. 

Over the course of the day clear blue skies, white clouds, and finally lowering greyness all settled in behind, colouring in the finely drawn linework of Horizons. 

We’re on a ridgeline now, and only the briefest of trudges brings us face-to-face with another gobsmacking sculpture. 

This one has “a fleshy quality which the artist describes as being “rather like a flayed skin”.” Ummm...choice, bro. 

Engagingly titled Dismemberment, Site 1 (2009), this work, by the fabulous Anish Kapoor, is compelling. 

Two vast elliptical steel rings are placed 85 metres apart, and a taut reddy-pinky membrane fabric stretches anatomically between. 

In the presence of such a strange and disquieting object it only seemed fitting that a lone, and apparently quite friendly emu came up to join us as we sat down to lunch. 

From this part of Gibbs Farm the Kaipara is close. The landscape plunges down to the beach, and the huge receding tides. We follow, until the Loch Ness monster stops us in our tracks. 

Looking closer, its arching loops are of no marine origin. Instead they are made of Scottish sandstone, each block 1.4m2. 

Together these 11 structures make up Arches (2005) by Andy Goldsworthy. 

I imagine they look utterly gorgeous in the sun, but in the late afternoon gloom they took on a mysterious quality which was only enhanced by the flock of sheep which suddenly ran along the foreshore to visit their local merino henge. 

Were these four works all that was on offer, one could go away a happy person.  Amazingly though, the hit parade continues, with gigantor works by Richard Thompson, Sol LeWitt, Daniel Buren, Maya Lin, Bernar Venet and more. It will be interesting to see how many more great works the site can support: given their vast scale they really do need breathing space around.

We were fortunate to be led on our tour by well-known New Zealand landscape architect Garth Falconer. He has been discussing, designing and debating the Gibbs Farm landscape for nearly as long as it’s been operating, and his generous, thoughtful and knowledgeable presence brought many insights to our day.

For those who are Garth-less, don’t despair. Gibbs Farm is open monthly by appointment. Find out more at their website. Take your walking shoes, get off the roads and paths, and enjoy a wonderfully stimulating day engaging with eye-popping artworks in an amazing setting.

Now it's your turn. If you were Alan, who would you invite to create the next uber-artwork for Gibbs Farm? Let me know who and why. And if you enjoyed this article, be sure and share it with your friends so they can have a say too!

In , , Tags , , ,

Design: the second-nicest thing you can do with another person

What a pleasure it was for me to collaborate on a project with the almost indecently talented Nicole Phillips. As well as being super-brilliant at just about everything to do with typographic and publication design, Nicole is also a tirelessly supportive friend…what Brene Brown would call a “move-a-body” friend!

We met years ago in our past lives working for an international design firm.  Since then Nicole has been my go-to person for all sorts of visual communications. I’ve been especially lucky that she agreed to do the graphic, visual and cover design for Future Park, my forthcoming book.

In between my book deadlines, and running her own thriving business, Nicole jumped at the opportunity to collaborate on a public art project for a new community centre at the Gold Coast. We were fortunate enough to be shortlisted to one of three teams to develop and present a concept design to the local council and others involved in the project.

After analysing the site and it surrounding context we knew we wanted to explore ideas of folding, creasing and weaving. This was inspired by the geology of the area, the rows of pointed roofs on nearby houses, the creek bed at the end of the street, and even old-style folded entry tickets referencing the theme parks up the road.

We also had to locate the artwork on a north-facing wall, so we were keen to create something that would cast dynamic shadows over the course of the day.

Here are some of the pages from our presentation, showing a snapshot of our experimentation.

Although the panel awarded the next stage of the project to Belinda Smith (another of my talented pals), Nicole and I had a great time bringing together our respective skills to collaborate creatively.

This project has also given me lots of ideas for future work…if you’ve seen any of my Instagram pics you’ll already know I’m a huge shadow nut!

If you haven’t, why not head over now and check them out. Otherwise let me know what you think about the experiments. I’d love to hear which ones appeal to you and why.

And embrace collaboration, it really is one of the nicest things you can do with another consenting adult.

In , Tags , , ,

Rust and Shadows - landscape wonders of the Asia Pacific Triennial

A whole exhibition dedicated to the way artists from different cultures and places see their landscape – few things could be more enticing for your Landscapologist. So it is with great excitement I bring you my completely biased personal faves from APT7.

APT is officially The 7th Asia Pacific Triennial of Contemporary Art, and it’s on until April 14 at the Queensland Art Gallery.  Sure, sure, it’s not described in any catalogue as a ‘landscape’ exhibition. But that doesn’t change the fact that nearly every single one of the pieces on show in this epic cultural event represents a deeply physical, emotional and sensory connection to place and landscape.

Let’s start with Shirley Macnamara’s gorgeous Wingreeguu 2012. At first glance it looks like a chance breeze has blown it, ready formed, into place in the gallery, and yet it tells so wonderfully of a very particular place - spinifex land of far western Queensland - and its role in the lives of both Shirley’s traditional people and the later grazing community. It’s as if the artist has reached back through time and plucked out the heartstrings of a thousand generations, and then woven in the tough grass to encircle the work.

You can see the same re-imagining in Lorraine Connelly-Northey’s stunning pieces.  Crafted from salvaged farm and building materials, they reinterpret the traditional fibre practices of her mother’s Waradgerie people. Couldn’t you look at the patina of rust for hours? No matter what distance you’re at the surface resembles it’s own richly detailed landscape of tiny textures and colours.

Landscapology_APT7_Northey.jpg

I’m not sure if it was the way they were hung, or the overcast sky when I visited, but these works would have been doubly delicious for me had they been lit to throw shadows.  As a long-time shadowphile I was heartened to discover that several other APT offerings definitely gave good shadow.

These elegant beauties were cast by Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi’s Kulasi; crisp geometries and such rich, strong colours humming as the taut cylinders floated against a dark background.

Richard Maloy’s Yellow or Blue?  both consumes space and creates it anew. The enormous cardboard installation suggests a landscape of rugged, impermeable terrain that all the same could collapse at any moment. Is it perhaps reminding us of the dangers of hubris? That humanity’s great edifices remain standing by chance rather than design? And what's with the yellow? Is Mr Maloy tipping his hat to The Vault, Melbourne's much maligned 'Yellow Peril', or am I reading too much into things?

Around the corner, Parastou Forouhar’s Written room uses clouds and dust storms of Arabic script to create a swirling, pulsating landscape that writhes off the walls to embrace the viewer.

The urban landscape is not forgotten either.

Both Nguyen Manh Hung’s Living together in paradise and Paramodel’s How to make a paramodel use accessible, almost whimsical techniques to comment on today’s cities and pose questions about the future of the metropolis in Asia Pacific countries.

Phuan Thai Meng’s jaw-dropping realistic painting in The Luring of [ ] draws us into the in-between spaces of the urban landscape.

Finally, Yuan Goang-Ming’s Disappearing Landscape – Passing II  is a wondrous video installation across three screens that evokes the urban landscape of Taiwan with great delicacy, compassion and genuine curiosity. I loved it.

If this was all the APT7 had to offer it would have been enough. Luckily for us, there’s way more on offer. If you’ve been along, tell me which artist most moved you, or most clearly evoked a different landscape? If not, when have you experienced an artwork that powerfully spoke of a place or landscape?

Art shares with landscape the power to move, inspire, comfort, awe and amaze us. I hope they continue to do so for you.

See the APT while it lasts or check out the QAG website for more details on the artists and the show.

In , Tags ,