Michael Green

Writer and producer

Maintaining the backyard

In Architecture and building, The Age on

A renovation that re-discovers outer space

ARCHITECT Andrew Maynard is standing in the grassy garden of a newly renovated house in Ilma Grove, Northcote, explaining why his design blurs inside and outside space.

“If you invest in a big block, then you’re investing in outdoor land. Don’t feel like you need to fill it all up with building,” he says. “But you have to make your house connect with the backyard, otherwise you won’t use it.”

As if to prove the point, his littlest client, three-year-old Harvey, barrels through the very wide backdoor and demands a game of cricket.

“Australians talk about growing up in the suburbs with all the space,” Maynard continues, while bowling to Harvey. “But we’re building these big homes and renovations, which are empty most of the time. Going small is really important environmentally – and also, in terms of design, it’s so much fun.”

When the young cricketer’s parents, Anna MacWilliams and Cameron MacDonald, decided to renovate their heritage California bungalow, they had three main objectives: to create an open plan living area, to use passive-solar design principles and to retain their garden.

“We didn’t want to build a mansion. We love having a backyard,” MacWilliams says, as she steps out from the kitchen to visit the compost bin.

The rear of the house faces north, but the couple rarely used the old dining room, because it was dark and pokey. The sun was blocked out by a lean-to laundry and toilet.

“It was all brick wall, with a tiny little window,” she says. “We used it as a storage room and had visitors in the front room. The backyard was segregated. You had to make an effort to get outside.”

Today, MacWilliams is cooking a vegetarian shepherd’s pie in the open, blue and red kitchen. “We get beautiful light coming in here now. In winter, the low sun definitely penetrates into the living space,” she says.

The northern wall of the Ilma Grove house’s new living area is comprised of large double-glazed doors. Among other eco-friendly attributes, the extension is clad in recycled bricks and all the timber was salvaged or harvested sustainably. All paints and finishes are either low- or no-VOC, and a rainwater tank is plumbed into the toilets. Up the space-saving spiral staircase is a spare bedroom and a roof-terrace boasting a solar array and views to both the Dandenongs and the CBD.

“I love opening up the doors,” MacWilliams says. “We’re always going in and out, to the vegie garden or the herb garden. Harvey can be in the backyard and I can still do what I have to do.”

Maynard used a number of design elements to make sure the yard was not only preserved, but also, used regularly. The first step was to demolish the rear laundry and toilet. The new laundry lives in a cupboard.

“Over time, people tend to add wet areas to the back of homes, and they dislocate living spaces from the outdoors. We knock them down and build them in the middle of the house, close to the bedrooms,” he says.

The broad double-glazed doors mean that the garden is always in view. “Visual connection is fundamental,” he explains. “And then you try to pull away the edges.”

He blurred the border between inside and out by retaining sections of exposed brickwork inside, and extending the light blue shade of the indoor cupboards to the external service area. A small patch of garden protrudes into the home, planted with basil and lettuce.

Beyond the broad doors, a narrow deck doubles as bench seating. “It means the edge becomes a social space, not just the line between inside and outside,” Maynard says.

“You’re always going to have some people who want to be inside and some who want to be outside, especially in a climate like Melbourne’s. Don’t force people to choose: instead of ‘either-or’, give them ‘both-and’.”

In de-fence of the backyard

WHEN Anna MacWilliams and Cameron MacDonald bought their Northcote home, they were already considering a renovation. Their real estate agent gave them clear advice: keep your backyard and you’ll do well.

The agent, Grant Leonard, a partner at Nelson Alexander in Northcote, says oversized renovated houses are a turn-off for many buyers.

“You can devalue the property if you don’t leave any backyard. They’re harder to sell,” he says. “Sometimes I see really large houses where they’ve taken up most of the land. Big houses suit families with kids, but generally, those families will want a backyard for the kids to play in.

“When people are renovating, the main thing is to get the balance right between the size of the backyard and the size of the house.”

In his recent book, The Life and Death of the Australian Backyard, Professor Tony Hall argues that the balance has been lost. He found that the proportion of an average suburban block covered by a new residence has increased significantly since the 1990s. “The cause is bigger houses, not smaller blocks,” he says.

Professor Hall, an urban researcher from Griffith University, believes planning regulations should require less block coverage and houses should be designed with more windows looking out onto gardens. He says vanishing backyards not only stop children from playing outdoors, but also reduce the biodiversity, natural drainage and cooling effects previously provided by trees and vegetation.

To Kirsten Larsen, from Melbourne University’s Victorian Eco-Innovation Lab, existing backyards present an invaluable resource for food production. Larsen says the city’s food security is threatened by a number of constraints, including water, oil, energy and agricultural land. Backyard vegie gardening must be part of the answer, and for that we should limit house sizes.

“It makes sense to produce some of our food in cities. We have a lot of the resources here that we need – water, nutrients, space and sunlight,” she says. “We need to increase urban density if we’re to stop encroaching on agricultural land, but we need to do it in a way that allows people to continue to grow their own fruit and vegetables.”

Indoor amenity need not suffer for the change. Whenever clients ask Andrew Maynard to design a modest building on a large block, the architect’s mind starts to race. For the addition to be small, the concept must be inventive.

“Doing something small on a big block is really exciting. When you have to put a number of functions in a confined space you’re forced to think differently,” he says.

“One of the reasons houses become big and horizontal is because people just line up functions next to each other. The moment you’re forced to overlap them is the moment something strange and beautiful will happen.”

Read this article at The Age online

Secondary glazing

In Architecture and building on

Secondary glazing is second best to double glazing, but it’s a cheaper option providing good results

WINDOWS are wonderful for transmitting natural light. The only trouble is they’re also great at transmitting heat. In a typical insulated home, windows cause more heat gain and loss than any other part of the building fabric.

No matter what climate you live in, double glazing can vastly improve the insulation performance of your house. There are a few ways to get double glazing into an existing dwelling: you can remove and replace the whole window frame, replace just the glazing unit, or install dual glazing (an extra glass window on the inside or outside) or “add-on” double glazing (an extra window or pane on the inside).

Unfortunately, all these measures can tear a hole in your hip pocket in the short term (though you’ll save on active heating and cooling costs over the long term).

In this article, Sanctuary takes a closer look at the cheaper end of the scale: dual glazing and “add-on” double-glazing units.

But before you open your chequebook at all, it’s smart to close some other holes around the home. Maurice Beinat, from household efficiency specialist ecoMaster – which produces ecoGlaze “add-on” double glazing – says windows are normally the third priority. “Every home is different, but usually the first port of call is draught proofing. The second one is sufficient ceiling insulation that’s properly installed,” he says. “Then the third stage is a toss up between secondary glazing, window coverings and window shading.”

External shading is crucial to prevent radiant heat transfer through any glass that gets direct sun in summer. Internal window coverings such as heavy drapes and pelmets will help cut down the warmth conducted through the glass. But Beinat says many householders aren’t keen on curtains at all – let alone heavy ones. “If you don’t want window coverings, secondary glazing is a good alternative,” he says.

So what should you look for?

Gary Smith, from the Australian Window Association, says secondary glazing performs two functions – thermal and acoustic insulation.

Some products, known as dual window systems, comprise of a whole new window – with glass and frame – attached to either the inside or outside of the existing window frame. They’re available from many companies – see the AWA website for a list of members in your state.

 “You get some benefit thermally but they’re usually installed for acoustic reasons,” Smith says.

For soundproofing, the air space between the two windows should be at least 100mm; however, for the best insulation results, the gap between the panes should be much smaller.

“In an insulated glass unit you need dry, still air or an inert gas,” Smith says. “The problem with having a big space is that the air moves around inside and it reduces the thermal performance.”

He says the thermal insulation value provided by double glazing increases with gaps of 6mm to about 16mm, and then begins to decline. “When you get up to spaces like 80mm and 100mm, the performance drops off quickly.”

By way of warning, Smith says would-be buyers shouldn’t accept claims about a product’s performance without independent testing under the Window Energy Rating Scheme (WERS). “If you can’t compare it, you’ve got to be careful,” he says.

The other type of secondary glazing system on the market more readily achieves narrower gaps, by using magnets to attach an “add-on” acrylic panel to the existing frame. These systems include Magnetite, MagicSeal and ecoGlaze (by ecoMaster).

Adrian Lafleur, from Magnetite, says high quality seals and materials make all the difference. “You have to make sure you get an air-tight seal. With the frame, PVC or timber will insulate much better than aluminium,” he says.

Products are available that will suit most kinds of windows, and allow them to be openable. Maurice Beinat, from ecoMaster, says acrylic panes work well in retrofitted systems because they’re light, easy to handle and safer than glass.

Cleaning too, is no trouble. “The best way to clean acrylic is with an antistatic solution or a mild detergent and a microfibre cloth,” he says. “Never use ammonia based cleaners, like Windex, because that will make the acrylic go cloudy.”

Acrylic scratches more readily than glass, so beware of combining low windows with pawing pets and toddlers. Mild scratches can be polished out, or the panels easily replaced.

Although secondary glazing systems are much cheaper than replacing the windows altogether, they’re not cheap. Covering your whole home could cost upwards of $10,000, depending on the product you choose.

Clear Comfort is a low cost solution. It’s a kind of plastic wrap stuck onto the frame and shrunk to fit (see case study). For just a few hundred dollars and a little DIY labour, you can double all your windows – but it won’t last as long as the sturdier systems on the market.

Another alternative is to replace just the glazing unit, but this requires a certain level of know-how, and it’s still not keep. You can get started with www.diydoubleglaze.com.au.

CASE STUDY

Two years ago, Adam Tiller applied Clear Comfort to the southern and western windows of his 1928 Federation bungalow, and he’s hooked on the benefits.

“I think it should be compulsory in every house,” he says. “It eliminates the cold draught you feel coming off the bottom of big windows, even when you have heavy drapes.”

The transparent membrane looks “like glad wrap” in the roll, but once installed, it’s hard to see at all. He had no trouble fitting it to both casement and double-hung sash windows, with the help of his partner.

So far, it’s proved surprisingly resilient – though he wouldn’t recommend it where pets scratch or toddlers reach. “My kids poke it and lean on it and it doesn’t come off,” he says.

COST COMPARISONS

A typical window is around two square metres.

Clear Comfort: $198 for a 10 metre by 1.6 metre roll (about $12 per square metre), together with tape and instructions.

ecoGlaze: $300 to $350 per square metre, but more if the windows are oversized, oddly shaped or require scaffolding.

Magnetite: $380 to $420 per square metre.

Article published in Sanctuary Magazine

Star ratings on the ground

In Architecture and building, Environment, The Age on

HUNDREDS of thousands of new homes across the country are not performing at their promised energy efficiency rating, forcing residents to use up to double the predicted energy required for heating and cooling, experts say.

Research by air-tightness testing company Air Barrier Technologies has shown that air leakage in new homes is five to 10 times worse than expected under the star-rating scheme.

This means that an average five-star home is likely to perform only to a three-star level, potentially doubling energy bills for residents.

About 40,000 new homes are built in Victoria each year, and all must adhere to the five-star standard. This will rise to six stars from May.

But a group of industry players, including Henley Homes, who have been lobbying state and federal government and building regulators to crack down on the air leakage problem, say unless more action is taken, customers cannot be confident their homes meet the stated star rating.

“At the moment there’s an assumption that houses are built to a far tighter standard than what we believe they are in reality,” Adam Selvay, Henley Homes energy and sustainability specialist, told The Sunday Age last week.

The question of builder liability was raised in a meeting with the Federal Department of Climate Change and Energy Efficiency and the Australian Building Codes Board in April last year.

Following that meeting, Terry Mahoney, president of the Air Infiltration and Ventilation Association of Australia, emailed other attendees, as well as federal government ministers and senior public servants, criticising officials for failing to respond to the issues discussed.

“It became apparent that no amount of scientific evidence, or global best practice comparisons or safety and health risk concerns raised by the visiting group, would engender any action or urgency from either the [Department of Climate Change and Energy Efficiency] or the [Australian Building Codes Board] at this time,” he wrote.

Mr Mahoney noted the attendees’ view that there is “overwhelming evidence” that the current star rating method “proves grossly inaccurate when constructed homes are performance tested”.

Bruce Rowse, from building efficiency consultants CarbonetiX, said air gaps are common around doors, light fixtures, window- and door-frames, and places where pipes or cables enter the home.

“Sealing is very important and to do it properly is really laborious. And there’s no inspection for it,” he said.

He also expressed concern that the regulatory regime doesn’t ensure insulation is adequately installed. “The building inspector has no idea of what insulation actually goes into the walls,” he said. “It’s also very difficult to validate exactly how well the ceiling is insulated.”

Victorian Building Commissioner Tony Arnel denied there was a systemic problem with air leakage standards or insulation in five-star homes. He maintained that an auditing process had consistently demonstrated that new homes complied with regulations.

“But building is not necessarily always a perfect science. We did some research two years ago with Air Barrier Technologies and that did tell us that there was potentially an issue with draughts and gaps that we needed to continue to work with industry to ensure that quality is met,” he said.

Mr Arnel said if testing proved a home did not meet its star rating due to building deficiencies, the owner could take legal action against the builder “because presumably it hasn’t been built to the right specification”.

Housing Industry Association building and environment director Kristin Brookfield said the association was not aware of any specific research on air leakage but acknowledged that a building’s energy efficiency is affected if it is not properly sealed.

“It’s important that this is seen as an issue about the rating tools,” she said. “This is not an issue about the actual construction of the homes.”

Lin Enright, from the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission, said that concerns had been raised with the Department of Climate Change about air infiltration, but no complaints or inquiries had been brought to the attention of the consumer watchdog.

The issue was privately championed last year by former Victorian Planning Minister, Justin Madden. In July, he wrote to the federal Minister for Innovation, Industry, Science and Research, Senator Kim Carr, requesting that the Australian Building Codes Board consider testing for air leakage to ensure greater energy efficiency of housing and other properties.

Read this article at The Age online

Martin Schoeller: Close-Up

In Culture, The Big Issue on

Photographer Martin Schoeller gets up close and personal with some familiar faces.

BEFORE he takes portraits, photographer Martin Schoeller thoroughly researches his subjects. If they are actors, he watches their movies. If they are writers, he reads their books.

“A lot goes into each shoot,” the photographer told the Artinfo website in 2008. He brainstorms concepts, scouts locations and sources props. All of which seems curious, as each of his photographs looks much the same: a passport-style close-up, enlarged to epic proportions, with shallow depth of focus – the eyes and mouth are sharp, the tip of the nose and the lobes of the ears are not.

Close-Up, an exhibition of Schoeller’s portraits, is now on show at the National Portrait Gallery in Canberra. The gallery’s walls are lined with his large images, some the size of muscle-car bonnets. Almost every square inch within the frames bulge with the (mostly) famous faces they contain, from a grizzled Jack Nicholson and an alien Paris Hilton, to a waxy Christopher Walken and a crinkly Helen Mirren.

The Schoeller exhibition raises an intriguing question: is celebrity, blown up and unretouched, still just celebrity? Or does it convey something more substantial? Michael Desmond, senior curator with the gallery, admits to some initial trepidation as to how the exhibition would be received, before it opened in November. “I was a bit cautious,” he says. “I thought people were over celebrity. They’re so familiar with Brad Pitt’s face that they might not come and see this show. Interestingly, they’ve responded really well. Most people come in as fans. Some come in slightly cynically – as I did – and are then converted.”

Schoeller was born in Munich, Germany, in 1968, and studied photography in Berlin at Lette-Verein – a training more technical than artistic. At 25, he moved to New York to be an assistant to Annie Liebovitz, the renowned celebrity photographer. He has since described that time as very challenging.

“My English was not that good when I first came [to New York], and she’s extremely demanding,” he has recalled. “She doesn’t have that much patience. I got along with her very well after about a year, but the first year was very intense and not very pleasant.”

After three years, Schoeller became a freelance photographer and later began contributing to The New Yorker and other prominent magazines, including Rolling Stone, GQ and Vogue. Dissatisfied with the glamour and commercialism of conventional celebrity portraits, he devised his trademark technique. “They allow me to walk away with something for myself – a very honest, simple portrait that no publicist can say anything about. You can’t see what they’re wearing and they’re not having to do anything, so no red flags go up. Only three or four times have people refused to have a picture taken that close,” he told Artinfo.

Schoeller, who is still based in New York, uses a long lens and simple lighting in his portrait sessions. He takes about 200 frames, talking incessantly to put the sitter at ease while he seeks an expression between expressions: a moment when the subject is temporarily not posing.

His headshots are often praised for their ‘democratic’ approach. By presenting every subject the same way, regardless of their status, the photographs can invite reflection and debate on the nature of celebrity.

“The images are commissioned by high circulation magazines, so in that sense, they’re reinforcing the cult of celebrity,” Desmond observes. “But, on the other hand, the way they’re photographed undermines it. They’re not necessarily flattering. When you are confronted with the images you think about what makes these people famous. Why this person? What are the things you actually see? The size is a bait to make you question the notion of fame.

“The large scale creates a sort of false intimacy,” Desmond says. “You’re forced to make an emotional connection. There’s a feeling that the faces are really close to you. Normally people only get that close when they’re either in love with you or you’re having a fight.”

Close-Up also includes a number of portraits of Indigenous people from South Africa and Brazil, shot and presented in the same way. But given the bias towards celebrities, is ‘democratic’ really the right word for Schoeller’s approach? Arguably, it’s only democracy in the most corrupt form: a means of placating the many, while reinforcing the power of the few.

But Desmond argues: “Maybe it’s an Australian version of democracy, where we bring the rich and famous down to our level,” he says. “They’re imperfect. Barack Obama is one of the most powerful men in the world, but when you see his face in the exhibition you’re conscious of how misshapen it is. He doesn’t look particularly powerful. Even the rich and famous are mortal.”

Desmond also believes the portraits transcend notions of celebrity. “In the end, you’re conscious less of the fame and more of the physiognomy: eyes, noses, mouths. Some are beautiful, some are engaging, some are quite freaky. You see so many faces that you leave with a feeling of the breadth of humanity, which is not something you expect when you walk in.”

Close-Up is at the National Portrait Gallery, Canberra, until 13 February. See the article in The Big Issue for photos.

Down to earth

In Community development, Environment, The Big Issue on

Communes are back. Actually, they never went away. They’ve shaken the naked-hippie image to offer a practical alternative to modern challenges.


ONE idyllic Friday afternoon – like many afternoons at the Homeland community – an impromptu parents’ circle formed outside Rose West and Kai Tipping’s small, rented house.


Rose knelt on the grass in her long skirt, while their elder daughter, Mali, home from primary school, alternately strode and sprinted around the open space with her friends. Their other daughter, Persia – two years old and possessed of an altogether wicked zest for life, laboured indiscriminately in the vegetable patch.


Two years ago, the young couple had left the city for the country. They sought a manageable, affordable lifestyle and more freedom and safety for their daughters. They found a commune. And in that, they’re not alone.


TWENTY-FOUR years before Rose and Kai made their life-altering move, Phil Bourne’s family moved to Seymour, 100km north of Melbourne, to start a communal living project with another like-minded family.


The small community was named, aptly, Commonground. Over the years other families have come and gone; the community hasn’t yet grown as Bourne had hoped. But the original two families, the core group, remain, and have since formed links with others through Cohousing Australia – a hub for communal living projects, which Bourne chairs.


Living enmeshed with others isn’t always ideal. There are times when, as he says, Bourne would have preferred to be a “hermit”. But he still feels that, ultimately, it’s worth it. “It’s what we term a high-input, high reward lifestyle,” he explains.


Recently, Bourne and the old guard of communal dwellers have been sensing that people are, once again, beginning to see value in their way of life. “I don’t know whether we’re kidding ourselves, but when the people who’ve been in this scene a long time get together, we’re convinced there’s a new energy around,” he says. “People are looking at what’s happening with the world and they’re hungry to find other options.


“In current times of climate change, peak oil and social isolation, when the single person household is the fastest growing housing sector, we think it’s time for the next wave of intentional communities,” Bourne says. “But to get from dreaming it to doing it is not easy.”


In Australia, rural landsharing communities flourished throughout the 1970s. After the 10-day Aquarius festival in Nimbin in 1973 – often described as Australia’s version of Woodstock – a number of attendees stayed on and started utopian communities throughout northern NSW.


The movement was inspired by New Age and simple-living ideas, together with concern about spiking oil prices, environmental degradation and the limits to economic growth.


“The intentional communities of the ’60s and ’70s had a lot of good intentions, but the application was vague,” Bourne concedes. “In many ways, it was downtrodden by the mainstream as hippie nonsense – a percentage of which had truth to it and a percentage of which missed the point.”


The Homeland community was founded in 1977, on a former dairy farm half-an-hour by car from Bellingen, an artsy town on NSW’s mid-north coast. Now, about three-dozen adults and children live there. The members aren’t allowed to own any land, but they can own their home. Each adult pays $30 per week in rent to cover upkeep on the extensive shared facilities, including the recreation house, guests’ cottage, laundry, shower block, barns, orchards and festival fields.


The community was modelled on the Findhorn Foundation, a spiritual community in Scotland, famous for mystical gardeners who grew supernaturally large cabbages on sandy soil. But the connection vanished in the early 1980s, as the overseas philosophy became obscured by the haze of marijuana smoke closer to home.


Like all communities, membership and motivation has ebbed and flowed. “Five years ago,” one long-term Homeland resident explains, “we were lamenting that we were becoming a geriatric farm.” Then a number of young families started moving onto the land.


AT Homeland, the afternoon continued on its comfortably unplanned course. A friend of Rose and Kai dropped in with his toddlers, and two other young mums from up the hill happened by with their daughters. “There are no play dates on Homeland,” Rose explained later. “You don’t ring up the other mother, organise a week in advance and go to a cafe and spend money. It just happens.”


While the children whooped, the adults spoke about placentas and sleeping patterns, the uncomfortable crevices that ticks find, and the humility required when asking someone else to remove them.


It was an earthy conversation, not an astral one: more permaculture than counter-culture.

 

IN all likelihood, this kind of practical exchange wouldn’t be uncommon among latter day communal dwellers. “You don’t get naked hippies running around the hills any more,” says Dr Bill Metcalf, a ‘communitarian’ scholar at Griffith University who has published several books on the subject.


“A lot of people see communal living as a very sensible option,” Metcalf continues. “They aren’t looking at it in the utopian sense – it’s just a much more sane way to live in a rural area. The interest is moving to a strata of society that wouldn’t have considered it 20 years ago, because it was seen as too outrageous.”


Metcalf says there are hundreds of intentional communities throughout Australia, from spiritual groups to survivalists, nudist colonies to eco-villages.


“No matter where you go, we’ve got these communities. Some are very upmarket, some very downmarket.”


For two decades, Metcalf has been working on an encyclopaedia of communities established in Australia before the ‘baby boomer’ generation. When he began, he expected it to be a brief undertaking. But, he says, “I keep finding new ones faster than I can research them. In every state there are amazing examples: there are lesbian separatist communes from the 1870s; groups who believed in a single tax; nudist groups; vegetarians. You name it, they’re out there.”

 

JUST as the kinds of communities and structures change over time, utopian dreams are also tempered from within. Close to Rose and Kai’s house, along a short walking track, is an open-walled barn, set among small beds of flowers and vegetables. It is home to Jacque Flavell, who has lived on Homeland for 22 years.


“What we’ve gradually come to realise is that you don’t have to try and work it all out so you love everyone,” she said. “When you see someone and you don’t really want to talk to them, it starts to make you sick. Eventually I think: ‘Well, I better do something about myself. I may not get to love them, but I better not let them give me an ulcer.’”


Flavell arrived on the community as a single mother with two young children. She had been a cabaret dancer, including a stint with the Moulin Rouge in Paris, but decided to radically simplify her life. She raised her children on the property without a car, avoiding machines wherever possible.


“I laugh now, when I look back,” she said. “I thought I would come here and learn from these much more evolved beings, but they were just like us. We’re just a bunch of people who are trying to figure something out. I still have things to learn.”


Later in the afternoon, Kai arrived home after teaching a samba drumming class to school kids in another town. He has the broad shoulders of someone who’s grown up on the land but, until recently, little of the practical know-how. (“I’m terribly scared of snakes,” he confided.) He and Rose, like Flavell, both hail from cities.


“I’m reaping the benefits of the work other people have put into the community, and it’s been a blessing,” he said. “The relationships are more complicated – I’m still getting used to the protocols. If you see an old fridge, you can’t just throw it out. It takes a long time to get anything done.”

The couple are clear about the obstacles associated with life this far from the mainstream, be they snakes and ticks, car-reliance or disputes with ex-members. Even so, their choice makes sense.


“If you look around the world and throughout history, I think people have lived like this most of the time,” Rose said. “When I travelled overseas this is how I saw people living: they pool resources and they share work, and a big part of that shared work is raising kids.”


Mali entered the room with a present for her mother: a soft, crocheted bird she had made at school. Rose murmured her approval by clucking like a chook, but the child protested. “Oh, it’s a bluebird,” Rose said. “It just looks a bit like a hen.” Unfussed, Mali raced off again, after asking permission to go to the common house with another child.


“All the faces around here, I know them all, and they’re my friends,” Rose continued. “I hope to spend many years together raising our kids and doing that all in a beautiful environment, with mountains in the background and a river flowing in front. I can’t ask for more than that.”

 

DIY community


IF you want to start an intentional community, don’t be naive: expect conflict and learn how to get over it. That’s the advice from Dr Bill Metcalf, gleaned from decades researching and living on communities.


“None of them run smoothly,” says Metcalf. “And the vast majority of people who want to create a community never succeed.”


The flip side, however, is that at their best, communities are socially enriching, environmentally sound and cheap to live on. “Almost invariably, people who grow up in intentional communities say they had a wonderful childhood.”


There are some practical challenges. Wedged by strict council regulations and steep property prices, people often have trouble finding suitable land. Also, properties classed as multiple occupancies usually can’t be subdivided, and without the security of individual title, banks take a lot of convincing to approve loans. Increasingly, would-be communities opt for strata title, rather than a cooperative, corporation or tenants-in-common structure.


“The old model, where a few hippies would pool their dole cheques and put illegal shacks on a clapped out dairy farm – those days are well and truly gone,” says Metcalf. “Now it requires elaborate financial management. It can cost millions of dollars by the time you get something operating with roads and facilities.”


Rural communities aren’t the only option. Phil Bourne, from Cohousing Australia, is promoting an urban hybrid model, called cohousing, in which about 15 to 30 homes are clustered around a common house and open space.


The individual dwellings are private and self-contained, not communal, but the residents pool some resources. The common house might include a shared guest room, kitchen, laundry and shed.

The concept began in Denmark in the 1970s and has become popular in Europe and North America. There are about half a dozen cohousing communities in Australian cities already, and several more in planning.


“Cohousing has a lot of appeal for current generations because you maintain personal equity and autonomy,” Bourne says. “And you don’t have to move out to the country. It’s an option for medium density urban living that still has the room for chooks and a veggie garden.”

 

Published in The Big Issue, with photographs by Conor Ashleigh.

For further information, go to abc.net.au/rn/utopias

Pacific islands face change that’s hard to believe in

In Environment, Social justice on

As the next round of climate negotiations continue in Cancún, the future of low-lying Pacific islands looks like a matter of faith. Written with photographer Rodney Dekker.

FAAUI Siale is sitting in her open-walled home, at the northern end of Tuvalu’s atoll capital, Funafuti. Three generations live here, side-by-side on a sliver of coral sand barely 50 metres wide. Ocean waves thump the land to her left, and a lagoon laps the shore on her right.

It is Sunday morning, and Siale sings along to hymns on the radio as a heavy wind blows and coconut palms rattle and splay towards the ground. To an outsider, everything about this scene seems precarious; but not to Siale – and for that, she claims divine assurance.

Tuvalu is the world’s second least populous nation, after Vatican City. Its 12,000 residents live on several reefs and atolls located halfway between Australia and Hawaii. Nearly all the land is less than three metres above the sea.

The director of the tiny nation’s environment department, Matio Tekinene, says his people are already suffering the ill effects of climate change.

Rising sea levels and more frequent king tides are causing coastal erosion and salinating the groundwater, making it hard to grow the traditional subsistence root crop, pulaka. The fresh water supply is now restricted to rainfall, which arrives in unfamiliar patterns at unfamiliar times. Coral bleaching is reducing fish stocks close to shore.

“Food security related to climate change is a very important issue for us,” he says. “Tuvaluan people, we live very much on our limited crops and marine resources. Nowadays there is a great change, because we have difficulty to grow these natural foods.”

But Faaui Siale, 60, is unconcerned. She does not accept that the sea level is rising. “I believe there won’t be any more floods, because of the covenant between Noah and the Lord God,” she says, with her daughter-in-law interpreting. “They made a promise during those days that there won’t be another flood in the world.”

It’s a belief shared by many of her compatriots. Recently, a survey conducted by the Tuvalu Christian Church found that nearly one-third of the population does not believe in climate change, based on their interpretation of the Old Testament.

In Genesis, Chapter 9, after the great flood subsides, God tells Noah there will never again be a flood to destroy the earth, and chooses the rainbow as the symbol of that promise.

Earlier in the morning, Siale and her family gathered next door to worship with their neighbour, Reverend Tafue Lusama, a minister in the Tuvalu Christian Church. The church is the country’s dominant religious organisation, with a membership comprising nine out of ten Tuvaluans.

Reverend Lusama, however, prefers an alternative interpretation of God’s pledge to Noah. “God is faithful to his covenant and He is not causing climate change and sea level rise,” he says. “It is human-induced, not divinely induced.”

The minister has built a low, concrete sea wall to protect his home. “Climate change is one of the church’s focal areas,” he says. “We believe that whatever impacts the lives of our people impacts the church, and climate change definitely affects the lives and the spirituality of our people.”

For the past five years, Reverend Lusama has been the chair of the Tuvalu Climate Action Network. The group coordinates the various NGOs who provide climate programs within the country, and also sends delegates to international forums, advocating for strong international action to cut greenhouse gas emissions.

“We’ve been raising our voices to be heard by the industrialised countries and the international community and still we are being ignored,” he says. “Land is equivalent to life in our culture. If your land has been gradually eroded by the sea, you are looking at your life being eaten away.

“Put simply, why should I die for the sake of luxury for others? That is injustice.”

Tuvalu is not alone among island nations crying out for deep emissions cuts by major polluters. At last year’s UN Copenhagen conference, the Alliance of Small Island States (AOSIS) argued for a legally binding agreement consistent with a global temperature rise of less than 1.5 degrees Celsius – a level that would give their nations a chance of survival.

They will take a similar case to this year’s UN negotiations in Cancún, Mexico, which run from November 29 to December 10.

Early this month, Kiribati – Tuvalu’s near neighbour in the Pacific – hosted its own meeting, the Tarawa Climate Change Conference. The President of Kiribati, Anote Tong, says the discussions sought to establish a more conciliatory atmosphere before the resumption of UN-sponsored talks.

“Some countries are more vulnerable now, but every country is vulnerable in one form or another – I believe the international community is in agreement on that issue. We should start by identifying the points of agreement and move on. Let’s not begin with the most contentious issues. Let’s work those out over time,” he says.

At the Tarawa conference, a dozen countries, including China, Japan, Australia and Brazil, signed the Ambo Declaration, affirming the “urgent need for more and immediate action” and calling for “concrete decisions” in Mexico. The United States, the United Kingdom and Canada attended the daylong meeting, but only as observers.

Kelly Dent, climate change policy advisor for Oxfam, says that while the significance of the declaration shouldn’t be overstated, it may be useful as a reference point for the coming negotiations. “Any conference that brings together these developing and developed countries, including China, is significant.”

She says that although the Pacific island nations will call for a legally binding agreement to be signed this week, they will settle for less, especially if there’s a push to fast track adaptation finance.

“If they see strong signals towards a legally binding agreement next year in South Africa, then I think that may be enough to satisfy them that significant progress is being made,” she says.

“People from these countries need reduced emissions but they also need to see well-targeted money to adapt to the impacts they’re seeing now, and they need to have a say in where that money goes.”

In Kiribati and Tuvalu, adaptation projects are already underway – from building sea walls and planting mangroves to prevent coastal erosion, to installing water tanks to supply drinking water and promoting home gardening as a means of strengthening food security and halting declining health standards.

But these measures are just the beginning. President Tong says his country cannot afford to cover its adaptation needs without significant international assistance. “With the resource constraints that we have as a developing country it’s not easy for us to address these challenges,” he says.

“The full impact of climate change is a tide we cannot stem. We keep moving back from the shoreline. In a country like Kiribati, with very narrow islands, the room to move back is very limited.”

Back on Funafuti, Reverend Lusama maintains hope. “We are optimistic about Cancún and what is going to happen there and the reason is that we cannot afford to doubt,” he says. “We believe in humanity and its ability to do the right thing at the right time.”

As the winds blow and the tides change by Faaui Siale’s simple home, it’s clear that she and her family are at the mercy of forces far larger than themselves, no matter her beliefs. The people of Kiribati and Tuvalu must hope their prayers do not go unanswered.

Read this article, and see Rodney Dekker’s multimedia show, on the Sydney Morning Herald website.

See the article as it was published in WA News:

WA News article 1

WA News article 2

Life cycle assessment

In Architecture and building, Environment on

Life cycle assessment reveals more than ever about the impact of building products.

IF you want to reduce your construction footprint, sooner or later you’ll need to dive into the murky world of materials.

Take a deep breath first. It’s a place where everything is connected and the products have different impacts, but it’s hard to tell exactly how they relate to one another, and how big the differences are.

In recent years, we’ve become accustomed to the concept of embodied energy: it’s shorthand for all the energy used to make a product, from the mining and processing of base materials, to the packaging and delivery of the manufactured goods.

Now, life cycle assessment is becoming increasingly common. “Embodied energy measures only the energy aspect, whereas life cycle assessment measures all the environmental impacts,” says Dr Usha Iyer-Raniga, assistant director of RMIT’s Centre for Design. “It’s not just about energy, but also about biodiversity, greenhouse gasses, land use and toxins.”

Tim Grant, from consultancy Life Cycle Strategies, says that the depth and rigour of life cycle research sets it apart.

“Life cycle assessment is an internationally standardised methodology for analysing the impacts of products and services. It looks at the cradle-to-grave impacts, including all the relevant environmental indicators,” he says.

The function of the product is a key part of the analysis: nothing can be viewed in isolation. “The assessment becomes very complicated in building industry, because we don’t use materials as they are,” Iyer-Raniga says. “You’ve got to think about how those materials are assembled together to become a square meter of wall, and how the wall performs its role.”

To help solve the puzzles, she suggests householders ask a lot of questions when sourcing products and materials. “People have to be really savvy. There’s a lot of greenwash out there, particularly in the building industry – not just with materials, but with appliances and furniture as well,” she says.

“You need to think about your needs. Is it a house you want to live in for the rest of your life? Think about using long-lasting materials that aren’t entirely dictated by fashion. Consider where the materials come from, how durable they are and whether they need maintenance.”

So far, not much life cycle information has been available for homeowners. The Australian Life Cycle Assessment Society is working on locally relevant environmental impact weightings and a database of products and services, but the project is progressing slowly.

Eco-product database ecoSpecifier recently launched GreenTag, a third-party certification system based on life cycle assessment principles.

Technical director David Baggs agrees that the strength of life cycle analysis is its breadth. “There are lots of carbon calculators available, but as a society we have to be careful to not create counter-productive outcomes by focussing purely on greenhouse gases,” he says.

Under GreenTag, products are compared against a worst-case business-as-usual scenario. They’re rated in four tiers: platinum, gold, silver and bronze (although bronze signifies a health and eco-toxicity rating, not life cycle analysis).

“Once our new website is launched next year, people will be able to see the products’ key performance indicators,” Baggs says. “They could use it to specify minimum standards for their building materials.”

For a rough guide to good life cycle choices, Grant says there are simple rules of thumb for householders to follow. “Firstly, anything that will improve operational efficiency is worth doing, whether it’s solar panels or light sensors that switch lights off automatically. The environmental impacts of production will nearly always be outweighed by savings during the life of the home.

“The second thing is to reduce the size of everything. Smaller buildings use less material, less energy for heating and have less room for furniture and fittings.”

That means modification or refurbishment is preferable to building from scratch, if it can ensure energy efficiency. Earth building techniques such as mudbrick have very little embodied energy, but to remain ahead of the rest, they must also operate efficiently.

“There’s nothing that has no environmental impact,” Grant says. “After doing life cycle assessment, you come to realise that less is more. We really need to reduce our consumption of everything.”

Published in Sanctuary Magazine. Read the article online here.

Paul Kelly, How to Make Gravy

In Culture on

A FEW days before I was scheduled to interview Paul Kelly, I happened to be in Newcastle, watching a singer-songwriter night in a quiet bar. A rangy looking man stood up and performed a halting, anguished cover of Kelly’s song How to Make Gravy.

In the lyrics, a man calls his brother from jail, just before Christmas. He passes on his gravy recipe, together with an extra serving of regret. It’s the kind of taut, empathetic storytelling for which Kelly has been acclaimed throughout a career spanning 30 years and two-dozen albums and soundtracks.

Now he’s added a “mongrel memoir” to his catalogue – and it’s also called How to Make Gravy.

“The title suits the way the book mixes things up,” he explains, on the phone from his St Kilda home. “You’re cooking a roast, and you throw in a bit of this and that, and you make gravy. That’s what writing the book felt like to me: it was a by-product of something else.”

In 2004, when the Spiegeltent first arrived in Melbourne, Kelly performed a series of special shows. Over four nights, he sang 100 of his songs in alphabetical order, and leavened the one-man act with a selection of stories. Audiences gobbled it up, and he later toured the format around Australia and overseas.

How to Make Gravy follows the same A-to-Z structure. Each chapter contains the lyrics to a song, together with an anecdote. The result is something like a big, snug patchwork quilt, in which Kelly has stitched stories about his family history and song writing, together with pop music lore, literary references, band travel yarns, and hard-won life experience. There are even occasional puzzles.

“I wrote it in sequence, starting with the letter A. Some stories I had for a while, but generally, when I sat down I didn’t know what I was going to write. It was only when I got to the Ds or Es that I had the confidence to say, ‘I think I’m writing a book’,” Kelly says, sounding surprised he ever got through it.

“I didn’t set out to write a memoir. I just used the songs as a jumping off point to write in a different way. Love Never Runs On Time had one little mention of bad coffee in it, so I thought I’d write about the struggle to get a good coffee on the road.”

He strove for his writing to be “companionable” – and it is. It’s the kind of book you read with a smile on your face. You get up to make a cup of tea, and notice you’re still smiling, and humming too, and pondering some dusty escapade from your childhood.

Or you might be contemplating one of Kelly’s lists. The book is full of them: from Good Smells (Bakeries at dawn, Onions frying…), to They Don’t Make Names Like This Any More (Frank Necessary, Earl Scruggs…).

“I’ve been a bit of a lister,” he says. “I like list poems. Walt Whitman is the obvious example – the poet who lists. A few of my list poems snuck into the book, like Reasons To Wear Black (Roy Orbison, Johnny Cash…). And I would often use lists to get me started writing.”

In one sense the whole book is a list, an extended tribute to Kelly’s many collaborators and to his eclectic sources of inspiration, both musically and intellectually. The ‘Index Of People and Bands’ runs to eight pages of tiny type, and includes poets, playwrights, authors and activists, as well as musicians.

“I’ve always seen myself as a collaborative writer,” he says. “I’ve relied on other musicians to realise my songs – I don’t write bass lines or guitar riffs.

“Then there’s the invisible collaboration, which is the books read and the music listened to. And there was always letter-writing with friends and family.”

As the chapters roll on, Kelly reflects on friends who’ve influenced him and those who’ve died, on aging and the passing of time. In the chapter corresponding to the song Winter Coat, he describes listening to a Frank Sinatra album in the dark on the night Ol‘ Blue Eyes died. After surrendering to an overwhelming sense of loss and fading possibility, he emerged “refreshed by tears…and glad somehow to be sad”.

“Looking at the book at the end, I realised that it’s all about time, death and getting old. You get over 50 and you can’t help it,” he laughs. In any case, for him, the subject isn’t wholly grim. “No one can do anything about loss. But you can be attuned to it, respond to it, and derive some joy from it, because it’s part of life.”

Back at the singer-songwriter night in Newcastle, when the rangy singer sat down after performing the heart-rending cover, a punter approached him, bearing compliments: “Great song choice man – I love Paul Kelly. He’s a voice for the nation.”

“Yeah,” the singer replied. “Everybody loves him.”

As I listened in, I could scarcely believe my good fortune. But, of course, when I tell Kelly the story, he has none of it. “Oh, well, I think you tend to hear about it more often when people like you than when they don’t,” he says humbly, after stifling an awkward cough.

He does, however, admit to nerves about the way people will respond to How to Make Gravy. “My CDs are fiction,” he says. “This is like standing naked in the street.”

Published in Readings Monthly, October 2010.

Green renovations

In Architecture and building, The Age on

Whether you’re renovating for resale, rental or long-term liveability, every signal has turned green.

BY May next year, the state government will increase the residential energy efficiency standard from five to six stars.

The star rating system applies to all renovation projects that require a building permit, but varies depending on the size of the alteration. For larger additions the whole house must comply, while for smaller changes only the new part must adhere to the rules.

The state government will also soon phase-in compulsory eco-scorecards at the point of sale and lease. With more and more people seeking energy efficient housing, it’s wise to renovate green to make sure your home doesn’t fall behind.

Here are some principles to follow:

Orientation, glazing and thermal mass

“The primary aim of the renovation should be passive solar performance,” says architect Mark Sanders from Third Ecology in Geelong. “That means getting living areas facing north.”

If your block has a north-facing backyard (or, on a wide block, a north-facing side), you’re in luck.

The task is more difficult if you want to extend to the south. One solution is to design a courtyard between the old and new parts of the home, thereby creating a northerly aspect and allowing the sun into the extension.

Mr Sanders says it’s crucial to combine smart orientation with appropriately shaded windows that allow the sun in during winter, and block it out over summer. “We also try to incorporate a concrete slab to the north, so we’ve got thermal mass to store and re-radiate the heat,” he says.

One result of the step up to higher building efficiency standards may be that designers pay closer attention to the placing and quality of windows. To lift the overall performance, choose fewer, smaller or better windows for the southern and western sides of your home. “It’s preferable to use double glazing,” Mr Sanders says, “or single glazing with decent window coverings.”

Insulation

Mr Sanders recommends householders commission a star rating of their home early in the planning stage. It’ll help identify weaknesses in the performance of the existing building fabric, and pinpoint how they can best be remedied.

“It’s not a compliance requirement, but we just think it’s an important part of a holistic review,” he says.

He used the process for his own house, a Victorian-era home he lifted from zero to six stars. “That meant insulating the walls and floors and doubling the insulation in the ceiling,” he says.

Wall insulation is essential to achieve high star ratings, and a renovation can provide a rare chance to install it relatively cheaply. Mr Sanders’ method was to cut out a section of plasterboard in the middle of the walls. “We slipped insulation up and down and re-plastered without touching the cornices and skirting boards,” he says.

Heating, cooling and ventilation

There’s a wide range of heating options, and the one you choose will depend on the your house. But according to sustainability consultant Malcolm Wilkie, zoning is non-negotiable. “Heat the living room and close off the areas you don’t need. Bedrooms and hallways don’t need to be heated.”

Mr Wilkie says air conditioning isn’t necessary in a house that has been renovated to provide good orientation, shading and insulation. “If you’ve got the house right, all you need is a little bit of air movement on really hot days, and fans will do that.” Be sure that your windows can be opened for cross-ventilation at night or when a cool change comes through.

Lighting

When it comes to lighting, Mr Wilkie has one golden rule: “Don’t install low-voltage halogen downlights.”

Despite their popularity, halogen downlights are terribly inefficient, expensive to run and need gaps in ceiling insulation to reduce fire risk.

He suggests pendant fittings or wall-mounted up-lights instead. “It’s better to use bright task lighting only where you need it, like over a reading chair, and not to flood the whole room with light,” he says. “It’s more creative and creates a much nicer ambience.”

Mr Wilkie also recommends that renovators let in as much natural light as possible. With a combination of skylights and roof windows, he says, “during the day you shouldn’t need to have any artificial lighting on at all.”

Water

If you want to save water, time and money, your pipes and plumbing mustn’t be an afterthought. Stuart McQuire, author of Water Not Down the Drain, advises early planning for water tank placement and use.

“If you’re re-doing spouting or guttering, direct it towards a place where you can fit the tank, and get as much of your roof going there as possible,” he says. “Sometimes a renovation opens access briefly, so you might need to order it before you put the frame up.”

Rainwater can be used for the garden, or connected to toilets, the laundry, hot water, or even the whole house – depending on how much you can collect.

“If you want to water your garden, get the biggest tank you can fit and afford. When there’s an extended dry spell, that’s when you’ll appreciate it,” Mr McQuire says. “But if it’s just for toilet flushing or even for the laundry, you don’t need a huge tank.”

Even if you aren’t installing tanks or connecting toilets and greywater immediately, a little extra plumbing up front will leave your options open – and save a lot of hassle later on.

“If you are renovating the bathroom, put the plumbing in so you can run rainwater to the toilet. It’s a lot harder to do once the walls and floors are there. The same thing applies to greywater, because it might be impossible to do later without pulling your bathroom and laundry apart,” he says.

When you choose fittings for the bathroom, laundry or kitchen, look out for the Water Saving and Efficiency Labels and Standards (WELS) scheme. The labels include a star rating – up to six stars – and a flow rate in litres. Good fittings will save you hot water, and therefore, energy too.

For even better hot water efficiency, Mr McQuire recommends householders opt for a solar water heater, if they’ve got a roof that isn’t too shaded by trees or neighbours.

For more tips, see the Your Home Renovator’s Guide. 

Contact Malcolm Wilkie.

Green renters

In Environment, The Age on

Apartment renters can make the most of their limited eco-options.

WHEN Nina Bailey moved to her rented flat in Thornbury two years ago, the first thing she missed was her compost heap. “I suddenly had to throw food in my bin and I hate doing that – I’m very conscious that rubbish bins are generally half full of food,” she says.

The next glitch was greywater. “There are lots of ways to harvest and distribute grey water, but when you don’t have a garden, what can you do?” she says. “Most of the sustainability things I was doing seemed to be related to having a garden.”

Eco-wise renters may find the going tough in detached houses, but life can seem even browner in an apartment, according to Chris Ward, from the Green Renters blog and tenant education service.

As well as the usual struggle to communicate with landlords and avoid making structural changes, apartment renters are usually lumped with a lack of outdoor space and restrictions imposed by the body corporate. “Even something as simple as hanging your washing out on a balcony might not be allowed,” Ward says.

Nevertheless, he maintains there’s plenty of action to take. “As with the rental community as a whole, many of the things you can do are more related to your habits and where you spend your money, instead of big, conceptual changes.”

Standard retrofitting practices all apply: vigorous draught sealing, thorough light globe swapping and careful water-efficiency re-fitting. And when you sign up for electricity, be sure you choose 100 per cent GreenPower.

Flat dwellers can compensate for lack of a yard by employing extra tricks, such as flushing the toilet with greywater from the shower, and growing a lush balcony garden. “You can use all sorts of things as pots, from wheelbarrows and boxes to baskets and bags, and then take them with you when you move,” Ward says. “You can compost in an apartment as well – Bokashi Buckets are the best option and they work well indoors.”

When it comes to bigger changes, tenants can use scheduled maintenance or conked-out appliances as eco-pressure points: try requesting water- and energy-efficient upgrades. “A lot of renters are fearful, but often, if you just ask you’ll be surprised how many landlords will say yes,” he says.

“You have to be firm, friendly and confident. If you’ve been a tenant for several years you can use that as leverage.” It’s also wise to cultivate a good relationship with your real estate agent – sometimes they’ll be in a better position to push landlords on your behalf.

In Thornbury, Bailey decided to be upfront about her green ambitions – at work, she’s the sustainable living program manager at Environment Victoria. She got over her no-backyard blues by rigging up a funnel and pipe system to shift greywater from her shower to the shared garden.

It’s difficult for renters to join the body corporate, but there are other ways to influence decisions. “I talked to other residents about composting,” Bailey says, “and one of the owner-occupiers convinced the body corporate to buy compost bins.”

Environment Victoria has just updated its Victorian Green Renters’ Guide, which includes a comprehensive list of retrofitting advice and a summary of the rebates now available. For flat tenants, it suggests encouraging the body corporate to install low-energy globes and timers for external lighting.

Bailey has found an unexpected upside to apartment living: reducing her overall consumption. “I only have a small amount of space, so I have to reduce clutter. It makes me focus on not building up too much waste or junk, and on reusing as much as I can.”