Michael Green

Writer and producer

Power from the ground up

In Environment, The Age on

First published in The Age, Insight

Around the country, small groups of ordinary but passionate people are banding together, lest they succumb to despair, to force action on global warming.

A FEW weeks ago, a small group of parents and young children — in orange T-shirts and sensible hats — sat in the park at the corner of Spring and Lonsdale streets. The parents sipped drinks and gossiped, and their kids squealed and bolted around the grass. Placards leaned against the fence: “All I want for Christmas is a future”, and “My future is priceless”.

The Walk Against Warming protest had just finished. This group was Families Facing Climate Change, a collection of 10 Ashburton women and their families. They live in Peter Costello’s electorate, Higgins, and formed their group in 2006 in the playground of their kids’ primary school.

“We just were really worried about our children and their future,” Anna Mezzetti said. She’s a 37-year-old mother of three. “We’re just families. We’re just ordinary people, but it’s about being empowered to go and talk to the local MP and say, ‘This issue is really important to us.’ “

Her co-founder, Dimity Williams, added: “We read the science. When you read that, you can’t understand why nothing’s happening — we’re still frustrated. We thought rather than just complaining about it and getting depressed we would actually try and do something.”

They’re not alone. Grassroots climate action groups are appearing like white blood cells at a wound. Over the past two years, an unprecedented, unreported and largely underestimated climate movement has sprung up throughout our cities and regions. Many of the members have dedicated decades to living simply and sustainably. The great majority though, are new.

Groups start up so rapidly it is difficult to know their numbers, but according to Melbourne’s Climate Action Centre, Victoria probably has about 50, and most are less than two years old. Nationwide, there are well over 200, and Australia is not unique in this trend.

Before long we will see whether such groups can make a real difference in the wider world — one of rising temperatures and melting ice caps on the one hand, and the forces of status quo and instant gratification on the other.

The worldwide climate movement is comprised of small groups with different goals. It has no single agenda or set of policy proposals, but collectively (in some cases unknowingly), it is working to influence negotiations at the Copenhagen Climate Summit in December 2009, where all countries will establish the successor to the Kyoto Protocol. There, our leaders must agree on swift, strong emissions cuts if there is to be any hope of averting catastrophic climate change.

James Whelan is one of the optimists. He runs the Change Agency, a Brisbane NGO that consults for activists. He has been around the block with any social issue you care to name and says the climate campaign is different.

“In the history of social movements in Australia, you can’t find a parallel. There’s nothing like it for its diversity, for its rate of growth, and for its inclusiveness. It includes coal miners. It’s rural. It’s urban. And it’s a mistake for anybody to think the climate change movement is part of the environment movement. The climate movement is a much bigger beast.

“You can hold a public meeting in any urban centre in Australia now, and initiate one or more climate action groups,” he says. “This is a movement where the grassroots element is taking the lead and the NGOs are following, some of them faster than others.”

At Melbourne’s Trades Hall, the Climate Action Centre has just opened. It will be run by, and for, these local groups. It aims to strengthen the movement by developing, supporting and forging links between groups. It will hold forums on current issues, and share resources and research.

Broadly, there are two types of climate groups, though often they overlap: political action groups, such as Families Facing Climate Change, and practical action groups. The latter may be solar bulk-buying collectives such as the Dandenong Ranges Renewable Energy Association, (or personal carbon-footprint cutters such as the Westside Carbon Rationing Action Group.

Their diverse membership bears witness to a wellspring of concern rising from deep within the nation’s psyche. But they face a huge task.

Recently, I saw climate scientist Professor David Karoly speak to a one-third full auditorium at the State Library. He is professor of meteorology at Melbourne University and was a lead author on last year’s report by the UN Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC).

Karoly said many rates of change are already at the upper limit or outside the range of the IPCC climate change projections — including increases in emissions, sea-level rise and arctic sea ice melt, and decreases in rainfall in southern Australia. The climate is changing faster than the IPCC projected.

Even under the most ambitious targets spelled out by the Federal Government’s climate-change adviser, Ross Garnaut, there is a 50 per cent risk of global warming exceeding 2 degrees, a rise that would cause extraordinary human suffering. Karoly noted that not many people would take a train with a 50 per cent chance of heading off a cliff.

In this light, the Federal Government’s proposed Carbon Pollution Reduction Scheme will be nowhere near enough. Labor’s pre-election commitment to a 60 per cent emissions reduction by 2050 will not meet Australia’s share of the worldwide burden. Cuts must be swifter and deeper.

As I listened to Karoly, I scanned the room and saw wide eyes and empty seats. Later, I left with a shocking and surreal message: the immediate future of our civilisation is threatened. The conditions of life on earth are certain to change. What we do now will determine by how much.

I’d just learnt about the globally accepted scientific research, but oddly, back on the street, my new knowledge felt radical and subversive, and somehow too confronting to share. This emergency is not widely understood. The climate action groups may be multiplying, but among the public at large, alarm about climate change has fallen from its peak.

In November last year, just before the federal election, 50,000 people crowded Federation Square for the Walk Against Warming. They wanted Howard out and, shortly after, they got it. At this year’s walk, however, numbers were way down. The organisers, Environment Victoria, estimated 15,000; The Sunday Age reported 5000. It was a disappointing turnout.

Has an opportunity been lost?

Social researcher Hugh Mackay believes the public was ready for tough sacrifices earlier this year. “The willingness of the community to act in the first six months of this year was palpable. They were waiting to be asked to do something.” That attitude could only last so long. “People’s attention span on issues like this is quite short, unless they can convert their concern into action very quickly,” Mackay says.

For many people, the climate emergency is no longer so pressing: the global financial crisis has emerged to divert public attention. Also, the Rudd Government has taken some of the pressure off by at least acknowledging the existence of the climate problem and initiating some green policies. But even the Government is sending mixed messages. In the furore over rising petrol prices, nearly all voices argued that rises must be restrained. As Mackay notes, when our leaders say we can use petrol as freely as ever, many people assume there isn’t a carbon emission catastrophe after all. The same logic applies when the public sees that the biggest polluters are likely to receive compensation under Labor’s proposed emissions trading scheme.

There’s one caveat to all this gloom. Alongside the community’s waning concern, Mackay says he has observed a contrary trend. He says we have woken up from a long stretch of disengagement from social, environmental and political issues. He’s not certain how these two trends match, or what will happen next. But the grassroots movement has already influenced the debate. Last month, Tony Windsor, independent MP for New England in northern NSW, introduced a private member’s bill, the Climate Protection Bill 2008, to Federal Parliament. Windsor calls it “the people’s climate protection bill”. It was born about six months ago in his electorate office, following a visit from concerned constituents. Since then, 65 climate groups have been involved in its drafting.

The bill would bind the Government to deeper emissions cuts: by 2020, 30 per cent below 1990 levels; and by 2050, 80 per cent. Among other things, it also sets steeper renewable energy targets and mandates greenhouse impact statements on new legislation. (According to Karoly, even those targets are not strict enough.)

The bill was loosely based on UK legislation, originally driven by grassroots organisations and just passed by their parliament. Windsor says his bill’s success depends on the public will.

“The people can actually drive this, if they activate themselves. But if they just sit around and wait for the Parliament to do something, my guess is they’ll end up with a watered-down arrangement probably not worth pursuing … I think people will ratchet the pressure up (on their MPs). I hope they do.”

They might. Community organising is back in vogue — most notably in President-elect Barack Obama’s grassroots campaign, which was fuelled and funded by record individual donations of time and money. American writer Paul Hawken, in his book Blessed Unrest, argues that the start of the 21st century has seen the emergence of a compassionate, thriving global movement for environmental and social justice. He sees a movement of more than 1 million organisations, from neighbourhood associations to international charities, that is causing profound societal change, step by step.

Hawken writes that when asked for his view of the future, he always replies the same way. “If you look at the science that describes what is happening on earth today and aren’t pessimistic, you don’t have the correct data. If you meet the people in this unnamed movement and aren’t optimistic, you haven’t got a heart.”

Dr James Goodman has long researched social activist movements. He is a senior lecturer in the school of social and political change at the University of Technology, Sydney. He and his team have interviewed climate activists in Britain and in Australia. “One of the things we explore is what motivates people, given the scale of the problem and given that governments don’t seem to be listening,” he says.

“It’s a very intense personal responsibility. It’s almost like an emotional reaction. It’s the sense that ‘we’ve got nothing else to lose’.”

SO FAR, he says, the UK activists are generally pessimistic about the future, and the Australians are more hopeful, believing their actions can bring about the changes they want. In February, action groups from all over the country will meet in Canberra for the Climate Action Summit. Over four days, they will hold workshops, protests and strategy meetings. They will petition MPs and encourage one another to keep badgering their representatives all year.

That’s what Families Facing Climate Change plans to do. It ran candidates’ forums before the last state and federal elections, and has met state Labor MP Bob Stensholt and Peter Costello. “When we met with Peter Costello, he didn’t know what green power was,” said Dimity Williams in the afternoon sun.

“We explained to him what that was and how he could get 100 per cent green power for his house. I lent him Tim Flannery’s book The Weather Makers, which he hadn’t read even though Flannery was the Australian of the Year. I think we’re doing him a favour. The politicians learn from us.”

But at this year’s Walk Against Warming, for a while at least, it was hard not to feel despair. Afterwards, I sat in the park for a while, hungry and tired, at first contemplating the science and then, the improbability and complexity of the response required.

I thought about what makes individuals form grassroots groups, about why some feel compelled to leave their lounge rooms and stride out against the gale, willing the whole world to do the same.

Anna Mezzetti explained her group’s motivations: “If you don’t try and do something, then you just despair. It’s better when you band together with other people, rather than being alone, worrying. We actually felt uplifted when we discovered each other.”

Dimity Williams went on: “It’s harder and harder to remain hopeful, but I don’t want my children to turn to me in 15 years’ time and say why weren’t you doing anything?”

A newspaper blew across the grass, its loose pages catching and spreading in the wind. Instinctively, the kids in orange T-shirts ran and gathered them as best they could.

There is hope in action.

Permaculture club

In Community development, Environment, The Age on

First published in The Age

An Australian community group is putting the backyard at the forefront of environmental change.

The yard is swarming with straw hats. It is a sunny day and people are working hard. A handsome, muscular man in khaki is wielding a pickaxe. As soon as I see him I think of Jamie Durie, but there’s no TV crew here.

This isn’t Backyard Blitz, it’s a permablitz. This is how it works: an enthusiastic group of volunteers come to your house and donate equipment, plants and seeds. They work with you to transform your garden into an organic food-producing Eden. You don’t even have to supply lunch – they’ll bring that, too.

Permablitz is a catchy contraction of permaculture and backyard blitz. Basically, it’s a good old-fashioned working bee with a twist.

Today we are attacking Fiona and Anthony’s place in Heidelberg West, outer suburban Melbourne. The house is square, smallish and rendered in cream, with a corrugated-iron roof. There is a soccer field bordering it on one side, from where a few large gums overlook the fence. There are vegie patches in the front yard. The backyard is open, grassy and strewn with debris.

Fiona looks at her lawn and says, “It’s just a mess.” She’s right. There are mounds of gravel and dirt and plastic. Newspapers are soaking in a green frog pond and a shed is in pieces against the wall. The washing is still on the Hills Hoist.

The first blitz was held more than 18 months ago for Vilma, a 70-year-old El Salvadorian woman. “It was a beautiful day,” says Permablitz founder Dan Palmer. “When we arrived there was a small plot of lawn and when we left it was garden. A year later, it’s still pumping and it’s brought a lot of joy.”

It all came about when Palmer crossed paths with a South American community group in Melbourne’s south-eastern suburbs.

Young environmental skill met with co-operative spirit and, since then, permablitzes have been held all over the city. For now, Palmer does much of the organisation, but there’s a website where people can find information and organise their own blitzes.

“It would be nice if it became kind of viral,” he says. And his wish could be coming true – the blitzing bug recently spread to backyards in Sydney and New Zealand.

According to the website, a blitz aims to create or add to edible gardens; share skills about permaculture and sustainable living; build community networks; and have fun.

“Permaculture is a way of designing the places we live to be sustainable, diverse and abundant by working with nature rather than fighting against it,” Palmer says. “It covers every aspect of a healthy sustainable life: food, water, waste, shelter, local community and economy – you name it.”

A well-designed, efficient garden can provide lots of food using fewer resources than typically go into supermarket produce. So growing your own vegies is a practical response to environmental problems such as climate change.

A few weeks prior to each blitz there is a planning day, where the owners and volunteers come up with a design for the garden.

Today, there’s a wish list of tasks posted next to an old bath tub. We are going to build more garden beds and put a pond in the front yard. One shed is to be moved to the backyard and another erected for a fox-proof chook pen.

“The plans change every hour on the hour,” Anthony tells me as debate rages over where to put the shed. I wander to the front yard and bump into a lengthy discussion over whether to buy a pond liner or to use a decaying green wading pool.

All is resolved by the time we tuck into pesto, tabouli and salad, brought by the volunteers. While we eat, Fiona tells us about her grey-water system and her long-term plans for the garden. Palmer checks the wish list: things are looking good. We are well-fed, inspired and enthusiastic to continue work.

Volunteers come and go as the afternoon progresses. But exactly who are they? Fiona confides that she knows only “about 10 per cent” of the people filling her yard. “I couldn’t have got this many people if I’d paid them,” Anthony tells me.

Initially, Palmer says, there were more people from the South American community, but the demographic has changed as blitzes move around different suburbs. People in their 20s are the majority, but there are people of all ages. Many of the regulars have completed a permaculture design course and are keen to put their new-found skills into practice.

But not only people who’ve studied permaculture come along. Others just think it’s a great idea and are interested in learning about gardening. Tanya, a budding documentary filmmaker and permablitz veteran, is one of those. She tells me that she loves the sense of community, skill-sharing and cross-generational support.

At the end of the day, the wish list hasn’t quite been fulfilled. The pond and garden beds are finished. The chook shed is up but roofless and the other shed remains unmoved. Despite this, Fiona is thrilled with the progress. “It’s just the beginning…but we’ve done so much. It would have taken ages to do all this by ourselves.”

Fiona and Anthony aren’t the only ones who are excited. With environmental issues entrenched as front-page news, Palmer says that interest in permaculture is growing exponentially. “Right now, there are a lot of really fired-up people getting involved.”

So, keep your green thumbs at the ready: a blitz could be coming to a backyard near you.

What is permaculture?

Australians Bill Mollison and David Holmgren coined the term “permaculture” (short for both permanent agriculture and permanent culture) in 1978, in their book Permaculture One. They spelt out a revolutionary food production theory, in which growers create their own integrated ecosystem, each aspect helping the others to flourish and reducing overall resource use. Since then, permaculture principles have blossomed all over the world.

Five permaculture gardening tips

Crop rotation: boost soil nutrients and avoid pest and disease problems by changing plant groups in order: first legumes, then cabbages, tomatoes, onions and root vegetables, and so on.

Grey water: if you use mild vegetable soaps for washing, recycle the water onto your garden.

Weed management: cover garden beds with mulch to control weeds.

Companion plants: grow herbs and flowers throughout your garden. Mixed plantings will confuse potential pests.

Indigenous plants: native species provide habitat and food for indigenous wildlife.

Source: Rosemary Morrow, Earth User’s Guide to Permaculture, Kangaroo Press, NSW, 1993, page 8

Best footprint forward

In Architecture and building, Environment, The Age on

A carbon neutral home isn’t science fiction. It’s coming to Melbourne, and it will be on sale from next year.

Here’s the plan for a new house in our outer suburbs: an open plan living area, with four bedrooms and two bathrooms, plus a theatre, an outdoor patio and a double garage. It’ll have a contemporary look, with a wood-panelled exterior and a flat roof.

Sounds unremarkable, right?

Actually, that’s the sketch of Australia’s first commercially designed carbon neutral house. With a combination of smart planning, passive solar design and whiz bang machinery it will generate at least as much energy as it uses.

The plan for the Zero Emission House was launched in late September at the World Sustainable Building Conference, held in Melbourne. The ground-breaking eco home is a joint venture between CSIRO, Delfin Lend Lease and Henley Property Group, with more partners yet to come.

The project’s foundations were laid over a year ago, when CSIRO began a study into low emissions housing around the world. Dr Greg Foliente, Principal Research Scientist in CSIRO’s Sustainable Ecosystems team, visited overseas prototypes, including some in the UK, where all new housing is planned to be carbon neutral by 2016.

His team also analysed efficient designs across Australia’s different weather zones, from tropical Far North Queensland to four-seasons Melbourne. “We looked at what we can do with the best knowledge we have, if we just change the way we build and put in appliances,” Dr Foliente says. “We found out that we can reduce the footprint by between 60 and 80 per cent. Right now.”

Next, the task is to bring the blueprint to the suburbs. Dr Foliente’s study tour taught him that most eco display homes look odd and don’t appeal to the mass market. Determined not to build a house “like a space ship”, CSIRO chose to involve a commercial developer and builder to tell them what buyers want.

At first, with those “weird looking” concept houses in mind, Peter Hayes, Managing Director of Henley Property Group, felt nervous about the project. “I thought it would be terrifying for a volume builder to try to do.”

Happily, it hasn’t turned out that way. “This is actually a regular house. It’s contemporary because we are doing a very contemporary range,” Mr Hayes says. “When you drive down the street you won’t know the difference.”

The design process wasn’t overly difficult. “Technically, we don’t see it as a very hard thing to do,” says Mr Hayes. The trick was to pay close attention the home’s orientation and use CSIRO’s expertise to fine-tune the details [see box].

Construction will begin early in 2009 and be finished before the end of the year. Then, to test the house’s performance in practice, a family of willing renters will move in. CSIRO will monitor their energy usage patterns over a full 12 months.

The home will be open for display before the tenants move in and Henley plans to sell the design immediately. “We’ll be offering the home to the public with or without the [solar] cells, as a regular Henley home,” Mr Hayes says. “We hope to extend our product range to include more of them.”

The only catch for the enthusiastic buyer is, unsurprisingly, a higher price tag than that of a standard new home. Similarly sized Henley homes sell for between $150 000 and $200 000, and while the costs haven’t yet been finalised, Mr Hayes expects that the extra expense will be “in the tens of thousands of dollars”. His estimate doesn’t count the solar panels, which could add the same again.

Delfin Lend Lease acknowledges that higher costs are a concern for some people. “Our research indicates that the marketplace wants a more sustainable housing option,” says Bryce Moore, Chief Operating Officer. “But their preparedness to pay for it is another matter.”

He says that while the Zero Emission House project will mean some extra dollars, it’s a design that will become much more affordable over time. The home, to be built on Delfin’s Laurimar site, fits perfectly with the company’s goals for its new developments. “For the next generation of Delfin communities, we have an aspiration to achieve zero carbon [emissions]. This house is one aspect of that,” Mr Moore says.

Also, the big upside for buyers will be dramatically lower running costs and better long-term value, as Mr Hayes makes clear. “Energy is going to get more expensive. The resale value of these of these homes is obviously going to be greater than the resale value of a home that’s got five stars or no stars on it.”

With his plan about to come to fruition, CSIRO’s Dr Foliente hopes the design will catch on all over the country. “We hope to target the mass housing market immediately, not five or ten years from now.”

CSIRO’s goal is to significantly reduce domestic carbon footprints. “That’s our contribution to the global warming challenge,” he says. “Every household can potentially have a contribution. Hopefully it’s the start of a social transformation across Australia.”

Living clean, green and cheap

Although plans are not yet set in stone, the 25-square Zero Emission House will be at least an 8-star rating under the current system. It will use about 70 per cent less power than a 5-star equivalent.

It will run entirely on renewable electricity – no gas – generated from solar panels and possibly, mini wind turbines. The home will be connected to the grid but also have some battery storage. Over the year, it will produce at least as much energy as it uses.

Henley and CSIRO have designed the home especially for the block chosen on Delfin Lend Lease’s Laurimar site in Doreen, 30 kilometres north of Melbourne.

With precise local modelling, CSIRO has perfected the amount of insulation for the floor, ceiling and walls. They’ve balanced the insulation against the ‘thermal mass’ of the building materials (like the concrete slab, which helps even out day and night temperature changes) to make the home as comfortable as possible.

The designers have also attended to passive solar principles, like positioning living areas to soak up the northern sun, while calculating eaves to let in winter rays and shade the summer heat.

The house will be stocked with the most efficient off-the-shelf fittings and appliances available. Reverse-cycle air-conditioning will do the heating and cooling. A smart electricity meter and feedback system will tell the residents exactly how much energy they’re guzzling and where it’s going. The report cards can even be sent to the tenants’ mobile phones.

Out of the lab

The Zero Emission House isn’t the only eco building project under way at CSIRO. The nation’s top research scientists are working on a street of innovations that will change our real estate. Here’s a sample:

Solar cooling

The Residential Desiccant Cooling (RedeCOOL) project is a solar powered air-conditioner especially for the home. It’s in development at CSIRO’s Newcastle climate test facility, where the scientists can mimic different weather conditions to test their product.

RedeCOOL is a particularly nifty idea because we use our air conditioners when the sun is most ferocious, but it could be a few years before it’s publicly available.

Temperature control

RedeCOOL’s cousin, OptiCOOL, automatically controls the heating, cooling and ventilation systems in commercial buildings. These systems normally gobble about 60 per cent of a building’s energy.

OptiCOOL uses smart software to sense and respond to different temperatures and occupancy throughout a building. By starting and shutting down according to need, it chops energy use without compromising comfort. It’s already running in a number of commercial buildings.

Lightweight concrete

CSIRO’s Dr Swee Mak and his team were inspired by the structure of bone, which has a strong casing around a porous interior. Their product, HySSIL, weighs half as much as normal concrete, but is just as strong. And what’s more, their panels offer five times the thermal insulation of the standard grey stuff.

With far less embodied energy than brick, the efficient production process could help to demolish greenhouse gas emissions. It’s moving to the commercial stage, and the first HySSIL home is already under construction.

Develop smart

How do planners, developers, architects and builders find out the facts on sustainability? CSIRO’s researchers have launched a website, to help make sure our design and construction professionals are in the eco-know.

It’s got dozens of fact sheets, from wastewater planning to walkable neighbourhoods, as well as case studies of some the best developments in Australia and abroad.

Thinking outside the bin

In Environment, The Age on

First published in The Age

Recycling means much more than sorting papers from plastic. For National Recycling Week Michael Green looks at new eco-friendly ways.

FASHION

Founder Kate Pears held her first swap in 2004, and has made it a regular occurrence since early last year. Now there are separate trading parties for women, men, and mums and bubs. There are also accessory and designer-label exchanges for the super stylish.

Pears says her events are both environmentally and socially beneficial. “It makes strangers jump into conversation as they share the histories of the garments. I like the fact that it’s not radical. It’s just about sharing more.” And of course, swappers gladly sidestep “the post-consumption regret of maxing their credit card”.

Sustainability doesn’t have to be boring, Pears says. “In the case of our events, it should involve lots of glamorous clothes, a good giggle and a cocktail.” But exchanges do have a serious benefit. Planet Ark says swapping one cotton dress rather than buying it new saves about 22,000 litres of water. By diverting goods from landfill, it also reduces greenhouse gas emissions.

For recycling week, the organisation has released a guide to running your own swap party. This is how it works: each item is traded for one token, and the token can then be used to purchase new treasures. Swaps can be run with anyone from friends to sporting clubs, and for products as diverse as clothes and gardening tools.

ARTISAN

In markets and boutiques across the city, crafty types are resuscitating our cast-offs, administering a healthy dose of style, and selling them back.

Sophie Splatt sews wallets from old dress patterns and picture books, as well as purses, bags and badges from vintage fabrics. The 28-year-old, who sells her quirky wares under the name Mistress of the Upper Fifth, is motivated both by green and aesthetic concerns.

She aims to reduce her environmental impact by using pre-loved goods wherever possible. Happily, she also prefers the style and quality of second-hand textiles to new ones. “I started collecting fabrics years ago and my collection just grew and grew. I decided to start my own business to cut it, but it’s just gotten bigger.”

She says more and more people are shaping new products from others’ castaways. “There’s a culture of reusing things here and it’s something I haven’t seen so much in other cities. Whenever I go to markets I’m astounded by what people make and the ideas they come up with.”

Another of those ideas is Rebound Books. Northcote couple Natalie and Ben Mason create new notebooks and photo albums by re-binding old hardback covers with fresh recycled or denim paper.

The spare-room workshop of their Northcote house is stocked with binders, guillotines and old books. The couple source their hardbacks from op shops and library discards.

“Every time we go into an op shop, we go straight to the bookshelves. I no longer go to the shoes,” Natalie says, laughing.

Even the new paper has an old story. Their supplier in the US makes its stock by boiling down denim scraps bound for landfill. “There are no trees in it at all. It’s fully-recycled cotton paper,” Natalie says.

FOOD

FareShare rescues food destined for landfill and transforms it into nutritious meals for the needy. “It’s all absolutely perfect food that would have been thrown away because people can’t on-sell it,” production co-ordinator Julien Jane says, while her volunteers roll out pastry offcuts donated by Boscastle Pies.

Formerly called One Umbrella, the organisation makes more than 2000 meals every day in its Abbotsford kitchen, from sausage rolls and quiches to pasta dishes. It also delivers thousands of donated meals, such as pre-wrapped baguettes. “We haven’t spent anything on food in three years, it’s all been donated,” Jane says. More than 80 businesses donate food, none of it past its use-by date.

Jane strives to produce dishes high in protein and fibre and is proud of her kitchen’s efficiency. “Some restaurants have a wastage of up to 40%. We have a wastage of around 1%.”

That’s a number Paul Martin would admire. Years ago, the former chef, 31, began making fuel from fish-and-chip oil. Now he’s a biodiesel consultant and recently published a book on the subject, Grown Fuel.

Martin has also been a sometime ‘freegan’, eating only discarded food. “I’ve been in houses where we lived solely from supermarket rubbish bins, and I’ve never lived in a house that had so much food. We even had a party once where we had a massive bucket of prawns.”

For him, trespass is more of a concern than salmonella. “I know how to tell if food is off and I’ve never ever gotten sick from eating anything out of the bin.” He says the classic example is a tray of bottles turfed because one has broken. “Sometimes you just can’t work out why they’ve thrown it out. I wish the supermarkets would give the food away to charity or customers. It’s a big waste.”

We have great potential to reclaim resources, Martin says, “in all areas, from building to food. There are all sorts of things out there for free.”

FareShare, Grown Fuel, Mistress of the Upper Fifth, Rebound Books

Shacking up

In Architecture and building, Culture, The Age on

Out of the square, a new exhibition at the Mornington Peninsula Regional Gallery, drops in on local beach house architecture – past, present and future. Michael Green brushes off the sand and tours five of the best.

From its genesis as a humble shack to the cantilevered glass showcase of today, the beach house has long been an important part of Victoria’s architectural vernacular. Many fine examples are dotted around our coastal fringes but it is along the Mornington Peninsula – from the western foreshore to Port Phillip Bay – that our beach-house identity has been defined. By the 1950s, “nearly every architect of note who worked in Melbourne build a house there at some time,” wrote architect Robin Boyd in 1952 in Australia’s Home. “And in most cases they allowed themselves to experiment, to be freer and easier than was their custom in the city.” A new exhibition, opening Thursday at the Mornington Peninsula Regional Gallery, will track the journey from conception to creation of 35 of the most exciting projects, including the following.

Ranelagh (Ship House)

If a good beach house should evoke the sea, then Ranelagh is safely moored to success. The ‘Ship House’ boasts ground floor porthole-windows and an elegant steel spiral staircase leading to a sunroom and roped-off viewing decks.

Built in 1935 and still standing today, the Mt Eliza home is one of the oldest featured in the MPRG exhibition.

In May 1936, it graced the cover of The Australian Home Beautiful. The magazine praised its designer, “that very modern architect, Mr Roy Grounds”, and judged that the Ship House was “one of the most intriguing seaside houses Melbourne has ever seen”.

Grounds, best known for the National Gallery of Victoria on St Kilda Road, built the two-bedroom cottage for his family. It was an innovative structure for its time, built with pre-fabricated cement and steel panels. The ship shape and stark materials stood out against the open landscape, and the upper deck commanded a spectacular view of the bay.

As Home Beautiful declared, the Ship House, “is definitely a ship aground, but no wreck.”

Ryan House

Tucked behind a sand dune, this Somers hideaway was both eye-catching and unassuming. Designed by architect Peter Burns and built in 1963, the modest, elliptical Ryan House rested comfortably in a grove of tea-trees and banksias.

Unfortunately, like a number of buildings in the exhibition, the home has since been demolished. Doug Evans, former associate professor of architecture at RMIT, says the shack didn’t “attempt to swallow the view”. Instead, it was “an introverted little thing, a bit like a rowboat turned upside down.”

It had sloping cedar walls, with both bubble and vertical slit windows. Bedrooms curved along one wall. “In the centre”, Burns wrote in 1963, “a concrete volcano of a fireplace springs from a warm brick floor and is capped by a curving copper canopy and flue.”

“It’s certainly got that hippy look about it,” Evans admits. But it wasn’t a slapdash counterculture hut. Burns was interested in caves as an analogy for home. He wanted to create places of refuge and belonging away from the wars and economic upheavals of the twentieth century.

“It was all about enclosure,’ Evans says. “He hit on something that was interesting other architects around the world in the fifties and sixties – the insecurity of the modern condition.”

Sorrento House 1982

“Beach houses should be fun to be in,” says architect Col Bandy. And his early eighties getaway is just that. The Sorrento House is an informal, low maintenance escape from city life.

The three-bedroom wooden home has an unusual design. “It’s basically a pitched-roof house but it has pieces chopped out and bits added on that change it quite dramatically,” Bandy says. The weatherboards are set at opposing angles. “At that stage of my career I liked the idea of manipulating traditional forms.”

The home was built on a block thick with tea-tree and Bandy decided to keep as much as possible. He tried to create “a more natural object in a natural environment.”

Exhibition curator Rodney James describes a relaxed, playful holiday home. “It’s the classic weekender. It has flowing open spaces inside, so when extra people come you can find room for them. It’s about bringing people together rather than sending them to the outskirts of the house.”

St Andrews Beach House

Sean Godsell’s creation rises above the scrub and dunes in a standoff with the Southern Ocean. The striking 2005 retreat has caught a wave of prestigious awards, including the Australian Institute of Architects Robin Boyd Award in 2006.

The long, rectangular structure with a gaping mouth looks, strangely, like a beautiful shipping container. The building both protects from the elements and adapts to them. Its rusting steel skin shelters a three-bedroom home, with the living and sleeping areas separated by a weather-exposed deck.

Set on stilts, the St Andrews Beach House also reinterprets the older-style buildings of the area. In years gone by, there were many fibro-cement shacks on sticks along the peninsula back beach.

Despite it’s intimidating exterior, the interior is neither too formal nor too precious. “The purpose of going to the beach for the weekend is to relax,” Godsell says. “When you’ve just spent a day surfing, there’s nothing more boring than not going inside because you might destroy the flooring.”

Unlike beach houses further north, Victorian weekenders must be comfortable throughout very different seasons. Godsell says the winter wind at St Andrews Beach is furious and bitterly cold. “When a storm brews at sea it comes straight across that coast. [In the house] there’s a giant picture window and deck where you can sit and watch – it’s some of the best free theatre you’ll ever get.”

Platforms for pleasure

So far, peninsula architecture has been more progressive and experimental than its suburban cousin – that’s the inspiration for the MPRG exhibition. But what comes next? To find out, curator Rodney James commissioned the Platforms for Living project. Five firms each designed a speculative house for a different coastal region.

For their part, WSH Architects fashioned Platforms for Pleasure, an action-packed, tongue-in-cheek getaway for the bay beach at Sorrento. It’s a re-imagined shack for the 21st century, radically different from a city home.

“Beach houses are becoming like normal houses,” says WSH director Andrew Simpson, disapprovingly. Instead, his team pictures a seaside springboard for leisure and pleasure. The outdoor space is designed for activities as varied as rock climbing and astronomy, while the indoor living area is simple and compact. It could be only 50 square meters – five times smaller than the current average home.

Simpson says the concept is meant to be both entertaining and radical, but also reflect the firm’s approach to sustainability. “We’re trying to come up with designs that respond to contemporary lifestyles but do so over a much smaller floor area.”