Restoration Australia Season 3 Episode 3 - Nanima NSW

Carl and Jennie Palmer set about trying to recreate their Federation homestead's grandeur but finding the line between a functioning modern home and a heritage restoration is harder than they anticipate.

This third instalment of the third instalment of the so called Restoration Australia has a bit more restoration - mainly patching plaster, painting and putting the decorative bits back in the verandah, but for a program purporting to show how people "..brave past decay and neglect to bring historic ruins back to life", the fix up seems a bit too easy. Unlike the earlier series where a couple of the houses actually involved careful and considered conservation of the significant fabric adopting the Burra Charter philosophy of doing as little as possible and as much as necessary, this and the preceding two episodes seem to have adopted the style of The Block: showy but little substance.

The episode continues the theme of bringing back the past grandeur or a once important and elaborate building, and implies the extravagances of scale and decoration are valuable attributes sought after by home owners today. Having eight bedrooms (or nine according to the previous owner) and even its own ballroom, is both the status symbol and a burden for the optimistic couple with limited resources who plan to do much of the work themselves. 

One of Harrison's recurring motifs is the supposed difficulty of balancing conflicting demands for a modern home and a heritage restoration. This usually just comes down to installing a fancy kitchen, lots of appliances and a white tiles bathroom. 

“Nanima” is a New South Wales pastoral property 'steeped' in history that played host to Banjo Paterson or Sir Henry Parkes. It was built in about 1900 by Charles H. Barton, the local Wellington Commercial Bank manager and Banjo's uncle. The property history goes back to the 1830s as an early pastoral holding, although the Barton family part parallels the national story, purchased from Mr Aarons, (one time Mayor of Wellington), by Charles in 1894, who built a new home just before Federation of the Australian colonies, in the style referred to variously 'Queen Anne' for its white painted timber fretwork, or 'Federation' for the optimistic verandahed, gabled and complex pitched roofs. Harrison's description of the architecture (at about 28:20) could have come straight from Wikipedia however.

Dr Nat Barton died in 1985 and the house passed to Nathaniel Kelburn Dunbar Barton, the Doctor's grandson and the fourth generation to live at Nanima. However financial problems and difficulties with bankruptcy trustees, eventually saw the house sold in 2015, ending years of the family's history at Nanima. He had hoped that the Nanima homestead would be passed down from one generation to another. Nat is Charles Barton’s son, and so just the second generation to live in the house having moved into the house in 1945 after returning from World War II. 

News from a couple of years ago suggested the proposed gas-fired power station next door, on the Mudgee Road would make the place unliveable. His legal fight and a dispute with trustees exhausted his finances and energy. In the end the power station didn't happen but it was too late for Nat.

It didn't look too bad when it was recently put up for sale recently. The sale notice said it "...now needs a proud owner to ensure the history and magnificence is restored and retained throughout time..." and was an "...opportunity for work and restoration by new owner", but the photos show a sound if tired rambling Edwardian homestead. 

The million dollar plus price suggested whoever bought it would have enough to fix it up properly. and what did it need? The marble fireplaces were intact, plaster, joinery, flooring and trim was all there. The roof looked sound. Even the wonderful lantern above the ballroom was letting the light, but not the rain, stream in.

It is on the National Trust register and Local Environment Plan. The certificate was proudly displayed, framed on the wall, so the previous owners (the same Barton descendants up to 2012), clearly appreciated the heritage of the place.

They also seem to have had the family and local history spread out on the tables in the big room for visitors to peruse. Until the sale, the house held some substantial original furniture such as the mahogany desk which Dr Barton’s grandfather brought out from England and a picture above it, of the boat he came on. Presumably these were not part of the sale.

The long connection with one family and the uniqueness and intactness of the house in the local area is recognised in its listing on the Local Environment Plan, which provides a statement of significance thus:

One of the most socially interesting, unusually designed and intact Edwardian rural homesteads in New South Wales. The interior is distinguished by the extent of original decoration and the large top-lit central living hall. The house is still in the possession of the Barton family (2012) but for sale, the forbears having built It. The site is threatened by the proposed gas fired power station on an adjoining site where the emission noise threatens to make the residence uninhabitable.

So what restoration does the episode offer?

The main work seems to have been repairing the cracked plaster, stripping off 1940s wall paper (this was probably Dr Barton's renovation when he moved in after the war), repainting, sanding the floors, and reinstating the brackets and turned spindles in the verandah transom. These last were helpfully stored on site, probably when rot weakened the complex joinery. The amazing discovery of these bits seems a bit strained, since Dr Barton was probably responsible for their removal and would have been on hand to tell them all about it.

This is where some discussion might have been directed at the issues facing restorers. The fiddly timber fretwork was a trend for the time and a distinctive element of Queen Anne/Federation homes, that probably didn't give much regard to maintenance costs or longevity. At least the cast iron decoration it replaced was more robust and more readily repaired with just a few bits of timber renewed. Although as we saw in Episode 2 at Egan House, the tinny aluminium bolted up replacements could be just a fiddly. Keeping these ornate houses in order is a complex proposition, but apart from some rather muddled hands-on from Harrison, we don't really learn much about it.

So some of the original timber verandah is put back, using original material and in an authentic manner based on evidence - good practice. But then they don't go that extra bit and get the colour scheme right. Some photo analysis and paint scraping could have added more authenticity.

The house itself is referred to as being built of "rendered aggregate" 500mm thick. This suggests a concrete structure, which for 1900 would be very rare and worthy of comment. It also means quite specialist restoration techniques might be required. We see the Carl gouging out the cracks and pasting in some filler with some comment on its makeup, but will this fall out, shrink or make things worse in the long run? Who knows. There is some detail on injecting a new damp course and laying on a poultice on the walls to treat rising damp and salt.

There are glimpses of the marble fireplaces in the homestead, which were apparently imported from Italy. Presumably nothing much was needed to be done with them, but even cleaning such material can have its issues.

The interior colour scheme is given some though. It needs to be brighter for modern day tastes, and not dark like in the olden days. Not sure this was the case anyway.

The servant bell system is to be restored. But its original place above the stove has already ben taken by a big oval with a chalked prayer, and presumably the wiring has all be stripped out. And that masonry chimney breast that held the solid wood stove has been pulled out. Quite drastic changes have occurred here without much comment apart from modern style kitchens are needed, and Harrison is unsure its the right decision, but sacrificing what historic fabric?

The original kitchen has been stripped out including old stove. Smeg appliances and "the ubiquitous island bench" take their place. It all makes a good add for the kitchen installers. Perhaps it is just for the kitchen obsessives, but the company give a pretty thorough rundown of the decision making process for getting the right 'heritage' feel: 

The renovated kitchen, while bright and fresh and modern, features elements that reflect the heritage of the homestead, such as the Hafele Antique cup and knob handles. In creating this space, we used Polytec doors in a Casino style, painted in half strength polyurethane Vanilla Ice while the benchtop is a natural granite sourced by Jennie and Carl. Appliances such as the rangehood and dishwasher were concealed or integrated to enhance the heritage feel of the space. There are also many Kessebohmer clever storage solutions hidden in drawers and cupboards, including a Le Mans unit, a Salsa Pro Spice insert and a Cuisio Cutlery insert. Loox lighting features in the pantry and is also inlaid into colour matched panels under the overhead cabinetry.

Then there is the pool in the courtyard given approval by Harrison, but again at what impact to the significance of the house? The little potting shed and the timber tank stand with the ubiquitous riveted wrought iron ships tanks are lost too.  As is a significant grape vine grown from cuttings obtained from the Barton's family connections in France.

The heritage specialist Karen is briefly seen. (Why do these experts not get a real name or even a credit?) But we don't really get much commentary from her.

So what is the difference between renovation and restoration?

Restoration is one method of conservation – renovation can be any kind of upgrade really. Often renovation means to bring in line with current tastes, whereas restoration can be about taking it back to a point in the past. Most projects, on the show and more broadly, aren’t actually restorations, they are more a mix of restoration, other conservation methods as well as alternations and additions.

This quote from interview in the online house renovation magazine, houzz, shows that Harrison does know the difference between restoration and renovation. Unfortunately, Restoration Australia is proving to be just another house reno show. Like I said, The Block without the competing teams. Interestingly the comments left on sites such as Houzz are enthusiastic for this sort of restoration, with little worry about the provenance, authenticity or suitability of the changes being made, as one commentator put it: 

I have learned that 'restoration' means replacing broken with new, and repairing where possible to bring to life a piece of history with love and dignity.

It hasn't been announced yet but a season 4 might be coming - auditions are open  

Restoration Australia Season 3 Episode - 2 Egan House

Hardware store owners Jo and Digby McNeil took on more than just the restoration of a heritage home in Inverell, NSW, when they bought an historic 'job lot' that included a convent and an old boys' boarding school.

Restoration Australia seems to be going for the big ones this time - perhaps they have to ensure the owners have the money to meet the show deadlines and they have something to broadcast. This episode looks at a big rural convent on its way to a new heritage tourism life - the former Inverell Convent - on ABC iview. the McNeils purchased it from a quirky religious North American in a deceased estate auction for over half a million dollars and anticipate another $2 million to complete the restoration. see the trailer

The show seems too long for the amount of restoration they have to fit in. It is 12 minutes in before we see any floor boards being lifted or paint being stripped, and before we know it, Stuart Harrison is already driving back for his next visit.  

These shows, including Grand Designs in its various forms, the original Restoration Home from the UK, and all the spin offs and copies, seem to take an interminable amount of time to arrive at the building site to see what progress has been made. and when we do, we often get the feeling that we have already missed the really interesting bits and have to be satisfied with a description of what they did in the proceeding months, or reenactments. I suspect the scissor lift was specially brought in by the producers so a section of balustrade could be pulled out to enable Harrison to lend a hand in fitting in the 'last piece'.

There is more to learn of the restoration process from the project facebook page than the show. even just by perusing the photos and sorting them into a more chronological sequence.

'Restoration', in built heritage terms, refers to the idea of putting back what was previously there. To do this you need to first know what was there. Sometimes it is obvious - the fallen brick, the missing section of balustrade, the original plaster details hidden behind a false ceiling. But other times it requires research. 

Harrison keeps pushing the idea that restoration can be made to mean almost anything, even as he quotes the Burra Charter. It's as if all the careful analysis, philosophy and policy development aimed at ensuring the primacy of fabric and authenticity can just be put aside for the sake of an aesthetic of personal stylistic preference.

Jo and Digby have taken on a mammoth restoration task in the group of former convent buildings in Inverell, but they are up to it. They are competent, skilful and motivated by their close connections to the community at Inverell NSW. And they run a hardware business so they are well resourced. They also seem to be able to do the research needed for authentic Burra Charter standard restoration. See for example the historic photo, from their facebook page, probably used as the pattern for recreating the verandah cast iron.

I didn't see the photo used in the show, and its not stated just how the replication of the panels was done, apart from reference to the wheat motive reflecting the local historical associations with grain growing, and a trip to the foundry to show some casting in action. Presumably there were some pieces around to copy, or there was a substantial design effort to replicate what appears in the early photo. I wonder why then, the program focusses on the quite different balustrade panels sitting on the verandah, that don't appear to be relevant to either the original ones, or whatever was in place when the timber framing was put in - presumable panelled in to prevent children falling or getting stuck between the rails, like the verandahs on the 1920s convent buildings.

The project obtained $100,000 from a NSW government Heritage Near Me Activation Grant, evidently to undertake works to the publicly visible parts of the property, presumably for the balustrade, the tuck-pointed brickworks and the tessellated tile verandah floor. so you might expect that authenticity was going to be a requirement. the current colour scheme of charcoal everything seems at odds with whatever might have been original. clearly not the light tones in the historical photo.

They mentioned elsewhere, that they "didn't have many photos of the doors before they started which would have truly shown their derelict state. [They] replaced all the broken miss-coloured glass panes with the closest matching green glass obtainable, replaced eaten out door treads jams, manipulating bending new timbers to make it all fit."  so this too sounds like competent authentic restoration. But then they strip out the metal kitchen ceiling. Not a specially nice bit of pressed metal, but perhaps saying something about the frugal nuns who converted the former policeman and cordial maker's house into an additional part of their convent. 

The Sisters of Mercy (who incidentally are downsizing in various states and may put their Santa Casa property in Queenscliffe to other uses), commenced building the Inverell convent 1908, while teaching at the local Catholic school. Then in 1922 the purchased the neighbouring two storey Victorian terrace as a boarding house for boys and later music classrooms. It had been built in about 1876 for Charles Egan, "one of the first sheriffs in Inverell" (did Australia have Sheriffs?).

The sisters sold up in 1980 and it became Ireby Lodge, a home for people with intellectual disabilities, and then it was sold again to the American lawyer with a penchant for odd antiques, a tabernacle from Vatican City, Oscar Wilde's bed, a Pharos's throne. the new owners took on all tis for another $50,000 hoping to either decorate with it - of auction it off to help fund the restoration.

Egan House has now become 'Lyndhurst', a luxury period holiday rental, while the couple continue with the much larger restoration job of the convent and children's home buildings. They are employing a sharing community site to attract restorers to help out in exchange for accommodation in a self contained apartment. This shows initiative, and may be a way forward in the perenial problem of preserving the national estate, although the arrangement might turn out to be too unbalanced depending on what they have to give in exchange, like the use of backpackers to pick our fruit to get a visa extension, cheap labour needs to have a motivation.

There are many stories that could be told from the historical evidence that old buildings provide. The Guardian focusses on the absence of an Aboriginal voice in a place half an hours drive from the site of the Myall Creek Massacre. But there is a closer and more immediate untold story about the lives of the children and nuns in what might have been a safe and pleasant home, but recent and not so recent revelations suggest might have been something else.

Restoration continues of the main buildings, with some reference to their past uses such as turning the old altar into an island kitchen bench, but the work would seem geared to development of further commercial accommodation with a heritage theme, rather than preservation and presentation of local history as the primary motive.

It is certainly better than leaving it to rot, which seems the fate of too many similar places.

 

Restoration Australia Season 3 Episode 1 - Milton Terrace

Milton Terrace at Millers Point in Sydney was sold off for $4.25M in 2015 as part of the NSW Government's disposal of 300 public housing buildings. For property developer Michael Stokes, it's a Mayfair terrace in the making.

Restoration Australia has come up with a Season 3 - and the first instalment could have been all about actual heritage conservation; but it isn't. On Sunday at 7.41pm or thereabouts, or on ABC iview

It shows what money can buy. $4.25 million to get what had been saved from demolition through one of the greatest achievements of social activism by the community and union movement in the 1960s and 70s. Then another $5 million to turn it into a trophy house.

The last 60 years of its history are skimmed through as a bit of colour in about 30 seconds without naming them, this half minute about one and an half minutes in bypasses the creation of public housing for wharfies families in a less than desirable area, the Sydney Cove Development Authority's plans to raze the Rocks and build high rise offices (Harry Seidler's being one scheme), the campaign to stop demolition by resident action groups and the green bans of Jack Mundy's BLF, creating more public housing by a different more sympathetic and community focussed government, and the ultimate forced evictions by Pru Goward of the NSW Liberal government and selloff of both the preserved historic terraces and the modern brutalist Sirius building.  For more see the doco "On the Rocks"

The new owner is a millionaire property developer, so I guess it comes full circle. Milton Terrace was built by property developer Donald Lanarch in the 1870s. He was son-in-law of wealthy merchant and banker William Walker who built the original house on the site. The head of the Sydney Cove Development Authority, Owen McGee, was the uber-developer, who conceived  the idea for the total destruction of the historic precinct, and incidentally he was uncle of neo-conservative media person Miranda Devine,who described the area prior to the government evictions as a rundown hovel full of entitled housos living off Centrelink. 

But another form of restoration is happening. Like Charles II returning from exile, the rightful heirs to Millers Point, and new occupants of the Jewell of the central Sydney heritage buildings, remake their palace in the style of the Sun King, or perhaps a minor Ceaușescu relative. Originally the homes of wealthy merchants, Milton Terrace lost its prestige when the dominance of the area by industry, shipping and the bridge, saw the wealthy and middle class flee the plague ridden inner city to the more salubrious north shore, made accessible by the bridge that destroyed many poorer people's homes.

Heritage architect Tasman Storey doesn't take the bait when Harrison pushes the line about restrictive heritage controls and the massive conservation plan, explaining that the owners can create bathrooms and kitchens to their own taste (but not necessarily his) as they please, and that the place was rebuilt "quite well as a superficial copy" after destruction by fire, so they have a certain freedom to fiddle with the fabric. It is a shame that heritage regulation is constantly presented in these shows as a negative to be overcome, or as a barrier to creativity and obstructing the personal desires of the owners. 

The heritage impact statement, available for the terrace at the other end of the row has a very short and succinct few pages of guidelines that are hardly onerous. but apparently because they're "not allowed to touch the original floor at all" to get a level surface they pour down a rubber self levelling compound and on top put a plywood subfloor and lay the new timber floor on that. But a slightly uneven patched original timber floor has its own aesthetic value, just not one appreciated by these lovers of shiny surfaces.

Special, $200 a bucket, citrus-based paint stripper has to be used to remove all the layers of paint. Or they could have just painted over again and accepted the uneven surfaces that age creates. They never expect it to be so bad, and uncovering one bit, like pulling off the render for the new glass lift, reveals more unexpected problems. Since they admit it is the same for all these heritage buildings, is this just a ploy by contractors who quote low, and then demand variations?

Archaeologist Dr Wayne Johnson reveals the terrace encapsulates William Walker's earlier grand gentleman's mansion of the 1820s. But the interior designer only sees the unique surviving ancient sandstone kitchen fire place as a constraint on her preferred plans, and is disappointed she can't put the living room ceiling rose somewhere else, but has to replace it where it came from. Storey prevails with at least some of these details.

Harrison gets excited about the opening up of the rooms and exposure of its 19th century character, but it is only brief, it will all get filled with the latest interior style. Of all the people on the site, the ones with the greatest sensitivity and appreciation of heritage fabric are the bricklayers and chippies who recognise that "we don't build things the same as this anymore".

Harrison goes all the way to the domed reading room of the State Library Victoria to handle a photo in nitrile gloves, when he could have just done a search on Trove:

Then off to the Archives to learn about plague and rats from City of Sydney Historian, Laila Ellmoos, (who for some reason is only given a first name). A little while later, after more issues with heritage problems, we are told that "the social profile of this part of the city has changed dramatically ... but that is to be expected as public housing falls into the hands of people with money and their own distinctive personal taste." Class is at the root of heritage. There is a general and possibly instinctive desire to conserve the past, to maintain the familiar physical and social environment but as everyone has different priorities and different views about what it means to conserve, some people are preferenced in this process, and it is usually those with money.

Harrison is pleased the stucco, scoring, and finishes and the painting has been beautifully handled, even though externally it hardly looks any different, apart from it has lost its Valhalla name and regained Kindale, presumably from some unstated historical research (the CMP however calls it "Ballara").

The gold silk wallpaper, chandeliers, lacquered and Japanned cabinetwork, gold fittings and marble floors are all befitting the bankers and merchant princes that run the world today, but like about half of all the Restoration Australia episodes, this one is more about interior decorating than heritage conservation, despite how much the host tries to remind us of the need to preserve the past.

PS others also find the 'restoration' less than Burra Charter   https://profile.theguardian.com/user/id/16574534?page=1