In 2004 the National Trust brought together a panel of speakers to celebrate Robin Boyd and his works at ACMI. The speakers were Patrick McCaughey, Daryl Jackson, Sir Zelman Cowan, Trevor Huggard, Peter McIntyre, Philip Goad. I spoke about the background to the design of our house. The talk was also published in ‘Design for Life: Grant and Mary Featherston’ Denise Whitehouse, Heide Museum of Modern Art 2018.
TRUST TALKS
ROBIN BOYD - FEATHERSTON HOUSE
Some forty years ago, in the mid sixties, I met Robin Boyd for the first time. It was late on a saturday afternoon, I was a young designer – being introduced to Robin and his wife Patricia in their Walsh St home – by my soon to be husband, designer Grant Featherston.
This was a memorable occasion for many reasons – to meet such a provocative architect and a person that Grant had admired and enjoyed over many years.
The journey of entry into the house was memorable in itself. From the pavement immediately up wide stairs – thru an anonymous flat facade and into the main bedroom - then down into an elegant, comfortable living room (on the way I noted a familiar Featherston black settee looking stunning on bright red carpet).
As we sat talking that day, I can remember being very aware of the beauty of the space – a sense of calm containment and yet at the same time of the dynamics of the unfolding space around us. At some point, a large elegant cat (everything about the Boyds was elegant) strolled through and around and up the open stairs – it paused half way for a long wash – and I can remember thinking as I watched the cat poised in space - what a joy it would be to live in a house like this!
Over the next few years we enjoyed many such visits – sometimes to talk about mutual design projects. Robin was responsible for the initial design projects of our new partnership. The first was the design of a ‘Talking Chair’ for an exhibition at an international Expo in Montreal. Robin’s concept was based on the fact that exhibition visitors get very tired and footsore and he wanted them to be able to sit, relax and absorb information about Australia through speakers in the headrest of a comfortable chair.
The next project was design of the furniture and fittings for the new Victorian Art Gallery in St.Kilda Rd. We came to understand, though not from Robin – that this commission was due to his pressure on the building committee – over-ruling the architect Sir Roy Grounds – and much to his annoyance. These projects continued the support that Robin had given to Grant’s work over many years. Robin would refer to Grant’s latest furniture or exhibition in his regular press articles. And it was Robin’s commitment to public education about the role of good design for everyone that Grant very much admired. In 1949 they collaborated with another influential figure, Jimmy Haughton James, in the
design of the Modern Home Show, in the Exhibition Buildings. Jimmy designed the exhibition, Robin designed an ideal home (which was recently re-created in the Powerhouse Museum), Grant provided furniture and Mimi Seivers did the photography.
In those post-war years Robin had a great influence on Grant. They shared a similar spare aesthetic and were both driven by the challenge to innovate and achieve more with less. I have come to see that it was the strength of this mutual respect – that led to the creation of our house – though it nearly didn’t happen!
In 1965 we were occupying 2 tiny flats (‘Quamby’, designed by Roy Grounds) living in one and working in the other. We needed to move but Grant was adamant that he did not want to own a house – he did not believe in home ownership. So we searched, and searched for suitable rental accommodation. In addition to the usual domestic spaces we needed a studio, a workshop, darkroom and large storage space. When Grant was finally convinced of the impossibility of this – in the mid sixties – he agreed to the idea of a house – but it must be designed by Robin.
So on another memorable saturday afternoon we went to tell Robin. I was quite surprised that he didn’t immediately take our commission but asked us to be sure that we really knew his buildings and his approach to design. We did know a number of his houses - but got to know more. We then returned with our brief – closely related spaces for working and living together – and that we would really like him to build us a large ‘shed’ from pre-fabricated components – a space that we could flexibly divide according to our changing needs. We had in mind the charming ‘kit-house’ designed by the American designers Charles and Ray Eames. To this request Robin asked if we had a very large budget – which we didn’t (very few of Robin’s clients did). We had to accept his advice that traditional techniques using brick and timber were the most efficient.
We then said that we loved his own house – with its central plant filled courtyard – and we would be happy if he built a large ‘shed’ enclosing a garden. My parents, who were to have a flat as part of the building, also gave their, more conventional brief to Robin. Then we waited – not very long – for the call from Robin to say he had a scheme ready to discuss. I well remember taking this call, and when Robin suggested a meeting time I said I would make sure it also suited my parents. Robin indicated he would prefer this initial meeting to be with just Grant and myself. I said that they would be disappointed not to be there. There was a long and uncharacteristic pause on the other end of the phone – Robin agreed – ever gracious - but I could tell there was great reluctance. When we saw his scheme we realised why! We learnt much later that he had proposed a somewhat similar scheme – based on ‘floating’ platforms to another client many years before – and it had been knocked back!
As it happened, my parents were delighted with their design and had no wish to stymie our excitement about proceeding with Robin’s plans for us - a large, double height, rectangular box of clay brick – 4 timber platforms suspended between walls and central chimney – floating over a garden which follows the natural slope of the site. A translucent roof was to bring top light to the whole space.
Our architect/client relationship was very amicable and enjoyable. Robin was a very gentle, gracious and amenable person – BUT there were some aspects of design that he was NOT prepared to compromise about. There was just one ‘bone of contention’. Robin had oriented the house to an expansive view of natural landscape – through a very large window – to the south. The one thing that Grant really wanted was north light and direct sun in winter. It was a stand-off for quite a time. Finally, I argued that Robin was correct – the strength of his concept involved focusing the space on the view and would be weakened by opening up the north wall.
The house is quite anonymous from the exterior, it is essentially about interior space. The placement of the platforms creates spaces of surprisingly different feel – from expansive to intimate. Robin had a strong sense of the emotional content of spaces – and one can feel the way the spaces work on us and those who visit the house. The ‘wall-less’ nature of the interior creates a truly 3 dimensional space – exciting to move through and in which to really see objects ‘in-the-round’.
I feel that Robin not only responded to our curious functional requirements but that he also reflected us, our personalities, and our way of being in the world together. I was interested to read a comment by the architect John James (Robin also designed a house for his father Jimmy Haughton James) John said that “Robin often intuitively understood his clients at a very deep level.”
The house is very responsive to its natural context – one experiences it through all the senses – changing light through the translucent roof, the sound of wind, rain, leaves and birds dancing on the roof. When it hails it is a totally immersive experience! But the design also reflects Robin’s personality – it obviously has the power of a strong, cohering idea but it also has a quiet harmony and provides a respectful, welcoming container for us and the stuff of our lives.
The house has evolved over many years – as buildings do. We have made changes – each time I wondered aloud what Robin would think – Grant always said that Robin would understand – because he understood that buildings need to evolve – sometimes they are even improved! There is a charming book, which should be required reading for all architects ‘How Buildings Learn’.
Robin was ever an experimentalist (as has been said by others tonight) and experimentation inevitably involves some failure – and our roof has certainly been an on-going challenge – not to say nightmare. The translucency of the roof was central to Robin’s concept for the house – but he did not know how to achieve it. The initial version, translucent corrugated fibreglass with fibreglass batts underneath was a disaster – we went to see it when half completed and were horrified by its patchy appearance. We told Robin and his response was, “yes, it does look rather like a Blake watercolour with the wrath of God descending”. There followed many experiments before and after Robin’s death. At one point I got so frustrated with condensation dripping on our desks that I suggested we install a conventional roof – Grant was shocked and said it would make the house look like an RSL hall.
Happily technology has at last caught up with Robin’s idea – and polycarbonate sheets with high insulation properties – prevent condensation, but also let through a lot of light. Changing ways of working have led to swapping studio and living platforms – the original natural top-light over the studio was ideal for working on drawing boards but not for computer screens.
The indeterminate nature of the ‘platform areas’ has accommodated many different functions – photographic studio, prototype making, wedding and parties etc. It has also been a most wonderful playground for many children, our own and others (with the addition of balustrades). Children of all ages have made and launched tissue paper hot-air balloons, swung on six metre long swings and built endless fantasy constructions from a set of large building blocks. It has enabled me to follow my passionate interest in children and how they interact with their environment.
The beauty and harmony of the house have been a refuge and comfort in sad times – and it has also brought pleasure to many visitors. I readily agreed to the Trust’s recent request to open the house to the public because I remember as a student, a rare opportunity to visit 3 Boyd houses - open for a charity weekend. That experience opened my eyes to what architecture could be – in a way nothing else in my experience had.
During the recent National Trust open days – when 830 people apparently visited the house – it was wonderful to see the delight in peoples faces as they walked through the front door. Late in the day I noticed a young man standing alone and looking into space of the house with a very contemplative expression on his face. I asked if he would mind telling what me what he was thinking – his first response was that he was reflecting on the difficulty of doing anything like this now – because of regulations, lack of suitable structural timbers etc – and then he added that he thought the clients must have been very courageous. I revealed that I was one of the clients – but that it was not I who had been courageous – I was too young to know what a courageous decision was! but my husband,
older and an experienced designer did know what he was taking on – I’m so grateful he did.
We were shocked and very saddened when Robin died. Whilst he was in hospital we had sent him a parcel of fruit and wildflowers we had just picked. After he died Patricia gave us a note which she found in his briefcase – written 2 days before he died - with typical grace and wit it thanked us for the ‘sumptuous deliciosa’ but bemoaned the fact that staying in hospital was like being imprisoned – without a cause.
Architects – unlike most of us – leave very tangible traces of their lives. I feel that our house truly embodies Robin and though I only knew him for a short time, in a sense I’ve lived in his presence for 36 years – a friendship I hope will continue for much longer.
Mary Featherston 2004