Seacroft Fernhill Restoration Australia Season 4 Episode 5

Host Anthony Burke meets a couple who are saving an important example of Federation Queen Anne architecture in coastal NSW, while dealing with a profound health crisis.

Has there always to be a personal tragedy behind every reality show episode? 

on iview 

But in this case Dutchman (Hollandischer, Nederlandertje?) Pieter, has every reason to give up on the restoration project and just go find a proper comfortable house to live in. But he has found the distraction he needs,  possibly to the point of obsession, even building a scale model to test his design and decoration ideas.

Perhaps there is a symbiotic relationship that helps heal both weary, crumbling body and neglected house.

His partner Mattie seems to get it. Between them they needed a project and Seacroft certainly fits the bill. Quite a number of bills it seems. So many that Pietre needs to do some hands on restoration himself just so can reclaim some ownership of the project and isn't just the signer of cheques.

Season 4 has dropped the "struggling battlers doing it by themselves" narrative in favour of better financed couples  style and the sense to engage competent building contractors. The builders have turned out to be the real stars of this season. 

I think I can guess why. The doityourself stories take a long time to unfold. Kevin McLeod has been going back to the same houses for decades. This must put pressure on the production budget. There is also the risk of not meeting the schedule deadlines. We can only guess what teams of real tradies are waiting in the wings of The Block, Renovation Rescue, and their ilk, who jump out when the cameras turn away to make sure the job gets done.

Fremantle Productions may well have decided the formula doesn't actually need construction site drama, so they have cast for personal drama instead.

Located at Fernhill near Wollongong, Seacroft was once part of a 1,920 acre grant, 'Balgownie', to John Buckland.  John Stewart, a local member of the NSW Parliament, veterinary surgeon and land speculator. bought part of it. Stewart also owned Keera Vale house (Bukari St, West Wollongong) that was the subject of a previous episode of Restoration Australia.

Stewart died in 1896 and his sons subdivided the 40 acres into 157 allotments in 1904 but only 53 sold. Auctioneer W H Rees sold a few more in 1906 including several to James Thomas Watson who then sold them in July 1908 to Stanley Ewart Elphinstone. [NSW Land Title 1659-231]  Elphinstone was a local builder and land developer whose mother, Annie, acquired lots 18 and 19 in 1905.  Elphinstone mortgaged the land in 1909 and may have used the funds to build the house.  The property was sold again in 1914 to Lawrence Crofton. Thereafter ownership alternated between members of the Crofton and Collier families who were related, Joseph Collier marrying Mary Kathleen Crofton, Daughter of Lawrence and Winifred Crofton in 1923.   Mrs Collier appears to have lived a comfortable life, taking her holidays in Elizabeth Bay. 

A local auction company got it a bit confused with its architectural periods describing it as a Federation "Queen Anne" style, but also that it was from the 1890s. They sold it for $650,000 as a unique restoration opportunity and as "one of Fernhill's most historical federation heritage listed homes"

We are told that the house was probably a display home for a new subdivision, and that most of the other houses in the estate have been replaced by brick veneers and units. It is hemmed in by modern houses.

Seacroft certainly needs someone to come to its rescue. It's problems are evident, even though inside doesn't look too bad. I admit I don't know how these things work, and that a bit of chocking, patching, painting and making do is not enough for most people. Restored has to mean like new.

The rescuer is Mark the builder. Mark Tarasenko really needs more acknowledgement for the work he has done. Like most of the people doing the important work on RA, he isn't allowed a surname, or a credit to his company, Eastbourne Builders in the show.  He and his firm have in fact been awarded by the National Trust for their work on an adaptive reuse project of the Old Bulli Railway Guesthouse. 

Similarly, the window restoration is credited only to 'Stuart,' although a glimpse of his workshop shows he is in fact Stuart Montague of the Illawarra Woodwork School.

The same goes for historian Meredith (Hutton, chairwoman of the Illawarra-Shoalhaven Historical Society) and fireplace restorers Stephen and Joe (sorry I could not find them). 

The comparison with the other resto shows is quite marked. Where they constantly plug their suppliers and sponsors, Freemantle Media must be contracted to meet the ABC 'no advertising' rules.

The before view shows that the floorboards have already been pulled up (wonder what happened to them and how bad they could have been, since the rest of the interior is timber lined and looks completely sound)...

But then we see it a bit later and all the lining boards have gone too, and most of the internal wall frames have been redone in pine...

...and the weatherboards have been pulled off (although at least some are evidently planed and put back with replicated profile boards doing most of the work...

... and then the roofing iron is stripped...

...and the metal ceiling...

Some of it must have been retained because Mark went to a lot of trouble to pull the frames back into place.

One element that gets a fair bit of attention is the shingle skirted and capped bay window. The window frames are reglazed to improve insulation qualities by the expert 'Stuart', and the shingles are replaced. But the originals had chamfered corners, 7 rows become 4 with a couple of weatherboards finishing it off, and the contrasting terracotta colour (in reference to the tudor clay wall tiles they replicate) is replaced with off white, which is the colour of everything tastefull of course.

What else is missing from the episode is the obligatory dreaded heritage expert. Perhaps because they couldn't find an angle to paint them as evil. Pietre later said he agreed to participate in the filming out of a sense of civic duty and to thank Wollongong Council's (un-named) heritage experts for all their advice.

Like in much of the Illawarra, mining and miners have left the area and new residents pick out the bits of heritage worth preserving. So the fanciest house in the Fernhill subdivision is considered heritage and gets restored (in a manner of speaking), while the rest of the miners' cottages are left to their own (and developers') devices. There are a few there if you want to look, but they are unlikely to survive the next wave of urban consolidation and aspirational home modernisation.

And of poor Seacroft, it looks outwardly like its Federation/Queen Anne/ Edwardian/Arts and Craft/ Carpenter Gothic original. Except it's not original. Barely a 4 by 2 survives from the house that was there. It is a replicant posing as heritage, and yet the good professor dispenses with his usual  line about them risking losing what makes the place special in their quest for modernising and proclaims it 'a good thing'.

Appendix A

The Illawarra Local Environment Plan, (Item No 6212) includes a well researched history by Zoran Popovic, which, because it gives such a complete story about the house I put in full here:

The house at 457-459 Princes Highway is of significance for Wollongong for historical, associative and aesthetic reasons, and as a representative example of Federation timber cottages in the local area and  is an excellent example of Federation Queen Anne style architecture, one of few remaining in the Illawarra. "Seacroft" house is one of the earliest buildings in Fernhill circa 1914, if not the oldest standing today. The house is also associated with Lawrence Crofton, a well-respected early landowner in Tarrawanna’s first subdivision. The building presents as having a high degree of integrity when viewed externally, and makes a strong contribution to the wider area character.

The Fernhill Subdivision of the Tarrawanna Township finally occurred on Saturday December 3rd, 1904. At this point, the Princes Highway was known as the Main South Coast Road (or even just “Main Road”), and Douglas, Pringle and Charles Roads seemingly stop all of a sudden – typical of an early subdivision. On the 1904 subdivision poster, Fernhill is advertised as being near “Corrimal-Balgownie & Mt. Pleasant Coal Mines”, confirming that proximity to the mines was still an important factor.12 It is very likely that the creation of Fernhill, similar to that of Tarrawanna and Balgownie, came entirely out of housing demand from miners.

It should be noted that according to the subdivision plan and an article in the Illawarra Mercury dated Saturday December 10th, 1904 – Lots 18 and 19 were purchased by Mr. Elphinstone and 20, 21 and 22 (the location of Seacroft House) were purchased by a J. W. Russell.

Lawrence Crofton

After acquiring James Brooker’s farmhouse in 189114 and moving in with his wife and children, they lived without incident until 1895, when the kitchen caught fire and burned the house down.Now is the first of a number of presumptions (as documented evidence of events around this time and place is limited). It can be assumed that he began reconstruction of his home shortly after this event, and as a landowner in Tarrawanna, construction on other homes as well. The Illawarra Mercury issue Saturday June 20th, 1903 states that Lawrence Crofton is “erecting another new cottage at Tarrawanna”.It is unlikely this refers to Seacroft House as further evidence suggests otherwise; it does however confirm that Crofton has built a number of other cottages.

South Coast Times and Wollongong Argus issue Friday January 22nd,1915 – “To let, Cottage Villa, Main Road, Fernhill, adjoining Mr A. L. Elphinstone; every convenience. Mr L. Crofton, Tarrawanna”.17 This almost certainly refers to Seacroft although there is no solid evidence. As stated above, Elphinstone purchased Lots 18 and 19, which does indeed adjoin lots 20 and 21 on which Seacroft is built (interestingly, Alexander Leckie Elphinstone was a prominent architect, though there is no evidence he had anything to do with Seacroft). South Coast Times and Wollongong Argus issue Friday January 17th, 1919 – “To let, at Fernhill, a Villa “Seacroft” every convenience. Apply, L. Crofton, Tarrawanna”. This is the first instance of the word Seacroft being used. Whether this is an amalgamation of Sea and Crofton is unclear, but whatever happened between 1915 and 1919 is unknown.

Unfortunately, the first documentation of Seacroft being inhabited is in 1934, so the events between 1919 and 1934 are also unknown.

The Collier Family 

Son of William Collier and Mary Anne Collier, Joseph James Collier snr was born in 1863 in Newsham, Northumberland, England. After migrating to the Fernhill Estate in 1907, he started work as a miner. Their house was on 17 Douglas Road and can still be seen today. In 1916 he joined the 16th reinforcement, 2nd battalion and fought in WW1. He was sent to Sunray trench in 1917 and was awarded a military medal for running messages “with absolute disregard for his own personal safety”.

Joseph returned home unscathed in 1919 and resumed work as a miner, now residing at 8 Broker Street, Tarrawanna (a miner’s cottage).21 In 1923 he married Mary Kathleen Crofton (the daughter of Lawrence Crofton) in Moss Vale and they moved into their Tarrawanna home. It is evident that the Crofton family (excluding William and Mary Anne) moved to “459 Main Road, Fernhill” after Joseph Collier put up an advertisement for a 1930 Whippett automobile. Interestingly, in 1935, Joseph brought in an elderly fellow miner, Harry Roebuck, to live with them in Seacroft until he passed away on May 10th 1946.

On Saturday July 6th, 1946, the Colliers’ daughter Winifred married Michael McGoldrick and celebrations were hosted at Seacroft, after which Michael moves in.25 Unfortunately, Joseph Collier was so ill he was unable to walk his daughter down the aisle, and on December 26th, 1946, he passed away at Wollongong Hospital. On September 26th, 1947, the South Coast Times and Wollongong Argus declares “For Sale, one block of land 50 x 150 (feet) Fern Hill. Apply M. T. McGoldrick”, referring to the block of land north of Seacroft. This was later (exact year uncertain) loaned by Harry Henson (of Henson’s Buses) and a nursery is established.

In 1952, a fifth birthday party was thrown for Josephine McGoldrick, daughter of Winifred and Michael29 and in 1954, Patricia Collier (the other daughter of Joseph and Mary Kathleen Collier) moves back for a number of years. A few years later the McGoldricks’ move to Bega, then King’s Cross and so too does Patricia depart, leaving just Mary Kathleen Collier and Joseph Collier junior living in Seacroft. In 1959, the garage is added and around 1979 Mary Kathleen Collier moves out. She passes away in Fairy Meadow in 1984. Now only Joseph James Collier junior lives at Seacroft, with no indication (in electoral rolls) that anybody else lived there with him.

Signalman's Cottage Battery Point - Restauration Australia Season 4 Episode 4

Host Anthony Burke meets retired couple David and Mandy who take on the transformation of a hugely significant historic cottage in Hobart, Tasmania.

Watch it on iview

A couple of images of colonial sandstone and timber fretwork held promise for this episode about the former signalman's cottage at 2 Battery Square, Battery Point. Everything at Battery Point sells for a million or two, of five on the waterfront. This place doesn't seem to have been on the market for a while, so presumably the long term owners are doing an upgrade.

We even get shown some flaking render and serious timber damage that cries out for a careful repair.

It soon transpires that restoration is even a greater misnomer this time round, since the first thing they do is demolish a sizable part of the house to make way for a big modern architecturing extension. Sort of like the big glassed family room at the back of the terrace house, but because the cottage predates the subdivision its back is to the street, and the front verandahs, instead of commanding expansive views across the harbour, it looks onto the back fence of some bland '30s flats. As a consequence, conservation of the setting and significant views has long been unachievable. Inward-looking architecture prevails over respect for the public face of a historic building. 

Burke is gaslighting the cottage, proclaiming the "heritage restrictions are mountainous" and it has "a heft of heritage constraints". It's as if he is gunning for the owners to defeat these heritage zealots. Blimey, does he not understand what heritage is for - and that if not for the mountainous restrictions, the cottage would have been demolished long ago for another of the bland blocks of flats that surround it. The original cottage remains structurally intact only "as per the heritage requirements". Didn't the owners actually want to preserve their historic cottage, or would they have preferred to demolish the lot and build some shiny new thing from scratch. 

The architects didn't seem to see heritage as much as a negative as the show's host did. As Heritage Tasmania explained in their feature article on the building's "sensitive and generous addition":

They worked with the heritage authorities to understand what was of low or no significance that could be removed, and to develop a number of principles to guide the approach of the new work, Beyond removing intrusive elements introduced in the 1980s, the principles defined that the new work should be subservient, lower in height and sympathetic and interpretive in scale and form. As the main façade faced the waterfront, it was agreed that the street end should read as the backyard....Inspired by colonial drawings of the area, the new additions reference the outbuildings that historically occupied the site...and the addition of the chimney references the memory of historic kitchens out the back

Mandy is quite perturbed because she can't make the roof higher to get the tall ceilings she wants so desperately. and then they have trouble lowering the floor level because the old building has no foundations., but they put in a concrete beam and raft structure, that looks like it involved digging out a fair bit potentially removing 160 years of archaeology. 

the architects

the foundations

the archaeology?

It's only the fancy minimalist extension that gets the good PR. 'The Hobart Magazine' tells us that Fred Ward and Cath Hall from 1+2 Architecture had to work within heritage conservation requirements, which meant "thinking of innovative solutions that often weren’t considered with new-build projects...The challenge was to offer a contemporary approach with a design sensitive to the cottage’s layers of history...” The implication here is that the usual approach is to ignore sensitive design or even make it purposely insensitive.

It even won the Australian Institute of Architecture's peoples' choice awards because of "A clear yet complementary relationship between old and new has been sought. Playful, abstract reference is made to fragmented historic forms, materials, and memory of the archaic function of the site."

At least Delperro and Clement (the builders - only 'builder Bruce' gets a name check in the show) got some handy free advertising on Google Streetview.

But what happened to that nice bit of Edwardian looking timberwork on the back verandah?

It might be the the 1956 of 1980s addition (fortunately the Tasmanian Archives make the building approvals accessible).

If the building is 1850s as claimed, how come the machine-made bricks in stringer bond - looks like a 20th century cavity wall. Elsewhere we can read that "Remnant walls from the original cottage remain within the core of the house which has seen a series of modifications and renovations and extensions between the 1850s and 1906, in 1985 and most recently in 2020." So the brickwork might be 1906 - still fairly early for cavity brick wall. The four red brick chimneys are also 1906.

Burke tells us that the "pick facing" of the stonework is typically Georgian. I wouldn't have thought Georgian really captures the style or appearance of the house, and certainly is not especially associated with pick dressed stonework, that could be of any period. Heritage Tasmania clears up the dating sequence: 

...the original stone section of the building was built in 1853 to house the signalman. Over the years, the stone building has been heavily modified. In the 1870s, a new Georgian-style entry was added to the western side of the building; in 1906 a large brick extension was added to the east  and a Victorian-style verandah was introduced; and in the 1980s further additions were incorporated

We are not party to the details of the building's history, but it can be surmised from the above, and from the glimpses of various bits of fabric. The shingle roof is partly in place. This appears to be exposed above the former front entrance hall. 

The thick internal wall Burke points out is probably off this hall and marks the original east elevation, so the 1853 part probably comprises only the two western bedrooms.

At least some of the stonework is cleaned back and retained in the new bathroom. This would have been the south wall of the 1853 building.

There is not really much evidence of a 'Georgian style' entrance, although there is some early stonework that conservation stonemason Warwick Young has to deal with. render over the decaying stone has trapped moisture, so his job is to cut out the old and match new facing slabs. He at least appreciates the value of a well built stone house, and puts down the problems to the fact that "it just needs some maintenance". This is probably true of the timberwork too, although Bruce the builder just pulls out the Huon pine balustrade timbers and runs through with the circular saw to see what the timber is, then declares them unusable, although careful conservation work would almost certainly have been able to save almost all the tiber. He plans to but some stirrups under the rotted posts and disguise them with some capping, rather tan do a more conservation-minded splice would be more in keeping with the 'like for like' and 'do as much as necessary and as little as possible' philosophy of the Burra Charter.

Apparently '...meticulously searching through records, archives and plans of the building' results in a 'shed out the back' design for the extension. From Rex Cox at the Maritime Museum, and Brendan Lennard - Senior Cultural Heritage Officer with the City of Hobart, we learn about the semaphore signals, the gun batteries and the nearby magazine tunnels, which leads to a 4 1/2 tonne reinforced concrete chimney with inset grooves mimicking the semaphore mast, evidently saying 'bushrangers are here' - although this sounds like one of those chinese character tattoos that says 'wanton soup'

The signalman's cottage was part of a semaphore network  which passed messages between Hobart's Ports, and could send a message to across to Port Arthur in 15 minutes. 

the signalman's view

Mount Airlie Milton - Restoration Australia Season 4 Episode 3

Host Anthony Burke meets a couple who've bought a huge run-down Victorian mansion in Milton, NSW, and plan to restore its regal beauty and throw open its doors to the local community.

You can watch Scott and Kate Lucas fix up a Victorian Homestead on iview.

Mount Airlie Homestead 34A Woodstock Road, Milton

Mount Airlie as depicted in ‘Sketches in the Ulladulla District, Town and Country Journal, January 20, 1885’.

It is clear by now that this season of RA is not about 'battlers' any more, and yet Burke keeps going on about the financial and personal costs along with the heritage issues. He is still going on about 'original' elements. Since most heritage protection only controls the external appearance, the idea that there would be any real constraint to someone with plenty of money being able to modernise an old building is a bit unrealistic.

The homestead is described in the Shoalhaven Heritage Inventory as being "undoubtedly the finest old home in the district" and is one of about a dozen important 19th century homesteads around Milton, five of which were built by the same stonemason, James Poole. 

An excellent Shoalhaven Heritage Study was undertake by Peter Freeman OAM, which provides context, but only briefly mentions Airlie in reference to its position in the range of architectural styles found in the district and as part of the Milton pastoral landscape.  Freeman's work is often very detailed and well informed, down to analysis of the wallpaper layers in some building. The Victorian-looking wallpaper at Airline is unceremoniously stripped off although it seemed more in character with the historical period of the house than the blank white interiors.

Airlie is on the Local Environment Plan and the NSW Heritage Register (presumably using Freeman's Words), says it is a:

Grand mid-Victorian residence, undoubtedly the finest old home in the Milton district. Notable individual design, derived from Classical and Regency influences. Associated with the Warden family. The work of the distinguished local stonemason James Poole. Survives in excellent condition with well planted garden and fine rural setting as part of the pastoral landscapes of the Milton district.  Local significance (Shoalhaven).

It is also described as:

A large two storey Victorian residence of symmetrical design. The rectangular plan features twin gables with circular louvred gables and there is a gabled rear kitchen wing. Construction is of stone footings and rendered stone walls with tall rendered and decorated chimneys. There is a concave iron verandah to three sides with decorative cast iron columns and stone flagged floor. The verandah is accessed by a low pillared staircase. Windows are arched double hung with matching plaster trims to all openings. Vermiculated quoining to both gables sections to the ground floor. The interior joinery, including fireplaces and stairs, is of cedar. Mature plantings of Norfolk Island Pines and Figs survive from its heyday as a major estate complex.   Modifications: The original shingle roof has been replaced with corrugated iron and the house has been renovated in recent years.

David Warden was the 'big man' of Milton. He arrived in Ulladulla from Scotland around 1837 with brother James, purchased the Mount Airlie estate from the previous, but now deceased big man, Alexander MacLeay, for £640 in 1849 Warden commissioned Sydney architect Mayes to desigh and  renowned local stonemason James Poole to build "Mount Airlie" between 1867 and 1868 (not sure why a stone mason is needed for a rendered brick building, but perhaps he was just a regular builder).  In 1852 Warden became the Post Master, then first patron of the Milton Agricultural and Horticultural Council in 1869 and the first Shoalhaven Council Mayor, serving on the inaugural Council between 1874 and 1877. Warden died in 1885, and the estate was split between four sons passing through the family until it was abandoned for a time. It had been renovated at some stage - probably gaining the corrugated iron roof in place of the 'original' shingles.

Burke calls it a "grand and important house that for decades has languished in disrepair and been closed off from the community". Opening it to the community is the part of the mandatory emotional backstory.

Scott and Kate had previously undertaken restoration projects in Melbourne, so it should all be familiar to them. The Heritage Register citation recommends a Conservation Management Plan be prepared. There was no suggestion in the show that this happened.  We are told that strict heritage rules may dictate what they can and cannot do. 'They’ll need to carefully navigate their way around these limitations. It will require some creative thinking on their part, so they don’t lose what makes Airlie House so unique.' Thats what the CMP is for. It provides the guidance needed to retain and enhance the cultural significance of the place. 

The owners did at least put out a call for old photos to help with their restoration - a commendable effort and entirely consistent with the Burra Charter:

Article 19. Restoration is appropriate only if there is sufficient evidence of an earlier state of the fabric.

Article 20.1 Reconstruction is appropriate only where a place is incomplete through damage or alteration, and only where there is sufficient evidence to reproduce an earlier state of the fabric. 

The only heritage issue raised in the show relates to the brick domed cistern in the courtyard. They have been told by the council heritage person that they have Buckley's chance of removing it. Probably saved them money anyway.   Milton Ulladulla Historical Society members Lyn Merrin and Noel Turnbull are compiling a list domed-beehive wells in the area as of 2013. Burke visits Noel briefly to discuss them. Several examples are shown, which are remarkably similar with their vented tower on top. I suspect there might have been a common hand in their creation. I haven't found the listing but the local paper makes mention. An enquiry to the historical society might be fruitful.

It cost them a bit over a million dollars to buy the place and they planned for restoration costs of $650-700,000 (such a price bracket clearly precludes the program from using the battlers card). Final cost was about $2mill all up.

But of course costs blow out. Why is it the case that cost over-runs are the norm? How come no one, from the small private resto to a multibillion dollar submarine tender can't get the numbers right? Is it because all the contractors and suppliers deliberately under-quote to get the work, knowing they will be able to claim variations due to some 'unforeseen' problem with dry rot or borers or hard to source timbers? Or they blame it on heritage constraints, even though they:

...worked with a heritage consultant, which brings another party into the equation that you've never had to consider before, The heritage consultant is there as the arbiter to say, 'whatever you're doing, it can't damage the fabric of the property (so) that people can't see further down the track what the property originally was'. (sounds like the claw - who decides which little green men will stay and which will go).

Some non essential landscaping, a new drive, and shifting the gates around chewed up a hundred grand. Not sure why though. Perhaps in preparation for a further subdivision?

Lifting the floorboards revealed termites of course. So unexpected.  Except why did they lift the floorboards in the first place? They knew the boards were bouncing, so what did they expect? Scott runs his own business in flooring no less.

Like the previous episodes, the place doesn't look so bad in the 2013 real estate photos - I wonder if they have a 'restoration filter' on their phone camera that hides the cracks and peeling paint.

The outside had already been done before the show start. We didn't get to see this part of the restoration. I imagine it was once bare grey render in imitation or Portland stone.  

A look at the builder's promo on their website suggests this is another tile, splashback and whitegoods-driven lifestyle renovation.  The sandblasted brickwork is a worry too, a throwback to those unfortunate defacements of the 1970s that destroyed the tuckpointed polychrome Hawthorn brick of countless boom period terrace houses. You can tell when bricks were never meant to be seen, because the bricklayer does a shoddy job, using up the short cut-offs and not worrying about the irregular bond pattern or stacked joints.

Another odd bit of misinformation appears when the verandah stonework needs repointing. Burke claims with some confidence that the mortar has shells included in the mix that are 'acting as aggregate'. No!, mortar doesn't need aggregate. The shells are probably residue from burning them to produce lime. Their mortar mix - 4 sand - 1 cement - 1/2 lime, with a handful of shells thrown in, might approximate the appearance of the old mortar, but won't match its strength. Burke redeems himself later, pointing out that the shells (calcium carbonate) were burnt to produce quicklime (calcium oxide), except before it could be used it had to be slaked (i.e. mixed with water and allowed to sit) to produce hydrated lime or lime putty (calcium hydroxide). the one bit of goot restoration advice in the show is thus muddled and useless

Burke seems to be trying to make some sort of statement about status in this episode, making scattered references to prestige, esteem and stature, power and visage surveying the landscape. He described Airlie House to the Ilawarra Mercury as '...a magnificent Regency style home with a great deal of prestige'. The landscape setting is mentioned a few times. It certainly did have a prominent landscape setting, and like many big pastoral properties created from stolen lands, it required an array of servants and indentured labor to make it profitable for the big men. Apart from a glimpse of the former extent in a painted view, we don't really get a sense of what was.

A bit of nearmap browsing turns up a number of nearby ruins, and begs the question, what archaeological evidence was lost either in the demolition of outbuildings and underfloor deposits, or from the extensive landscaping? was there any assessment?

The show raps up with some montages on stripping the kitchen, fixing the creaky stairs, the ensuite through the cupboard and pulling down the shed. I found it all a bit disappointing, and lacking in insight into either the history of the building itself, or the methods of restoration. I complained about the last series that it was Grand Designs meets The Block. this one has given up any pretense of being about restoration.

Just as a reminder, 

Restoration means returning a place to a known earlier state by removing accretions or by reassembling existing elements without the introduction of new material. (Article 1.7)

Maybe the rear shed was an accretion, and leveling the flagstones of the verandah was returning them to a known earlier state, but otherwise, it was just a standard bathroom and kitchen reno.

Eric Lyon's House Beaumaris - Restoration Australia Season 4 Episode 2

Host Anthony Burke meets a couple who are transforming their Mid-Century Modern 1950s house into a family home suitable for 21st Century living, in a beachside paradise just outside Melbourne.

You can watch Laura and Wilf restore their house here 

MCM is hot these days. A subset of house designs in the 1950s and 60s, it could well reflect the post-war optimism of a new generation breaking from the traditions of the past and even dismissing the 'Australian Ugliness' of transplanted British stodginess or imported American garishness. The council with the most MCM describes it thus:

Mid-century modern architect designed houses feature new design approaches, including use of light timber or steel framing; materials such as cement sheeting; flat or skillion roofs; north facing windows and easy connection to outdoor decks and gardens.

Sometimes structurally daring, the style of architecture is distinct for its use of clean lines, open plan layout and a different approach for maximising vistas and utilising natural light with floor to ceiling windows." 

I am ambivalent about the architectural and interior decoration style as heritage. Only because of the intrinsic biases that it embodies. On the one hand, the idea of the 'modern' attracted me early on. As a teenager at the end of the 60s and beginning of the 70s the changes in Melbourne were something to explore and enjoy, whether pretending to be a left bank intellectual at one of the few street cafes......

....or exploring the defunct nineteenth century development sites and watching the change from a brick and stone city to one of steel, concrete and glass. From Princess Bridge there was modern art in the animated neon of the the Allen's sign or the musical minimalism of the pile driver at the concert hall site. There was a feeling of prospect and promise in the new things happening.

On the other hand, it all seemed to be for rich people. I never went near Beaumaris, and few of the bright, open, spacious, modern houses of the period made their way to the northern and western edges of Melbourne. Spec-built weatherboards on floorplans little changed from the 1930s, migrant half-houses waiting for the money that would eventually allow completion, and big (to us) brick veneers, growing to two stories with arches, concrete balustrades, terrazzo and lions (or eagles) for the migrants who made good. This is the other side of modern houses from the mid century that no one fights to preserve.

I associate Beaumaris with middle-class families that looked down their noses at working class and migrant kids from the western suburbs. The kids didn't care mind - wealth to us was just another ethnicity; no better or worse than Maltese, Yugo, Pom or Skip. The fancy houses oppressed us with their demands to take your shoes off, to be seen but not heard, or just get outside in the fresh air. But that was just my prejudice. I only imagined what rich people might be like.

Eric Lyon's house has its fans. It is on Facebook. There is a conservation group gunning for it. It is well documented in a heritage study. It was even Domain house of the week. 

But on the other side are owners worried that heritage listing will devalue their property prices. 

Anthone Burke puts it: "It's not just your house that needs saving but a whole suburb worth of houses. How's that gonna go down in the hood?"

The City of Bayside twentieth century heritage study has had a difficult time; commissioned, then stalled, then cancelled. Then started again. 

 The Hun went as far as claiming that the "Heritage plan tears neighbours apart". 

Plans to slap a heritage overlay on dozens of Beaumaris and Black Rock homes have been scrapped by Bayside Council after furious homeowners spoke of anguish, anger and a community divided. The council last year sent letters to 51 Beaumaris and Black Rock residents, telling them their mid-century modern homes would be put on an interim heritage overlay until a study was completed.

Fiona Austin of Beaumaris Modern reckons there are about 500 good MCMs in her suburb and they would like to see about 100 protected although realistically, maybe only 50 would make it. But bayside council can only offer 19 for an interim protection under a self nominated scheme that the former head of the National Trust described as a "“cop out” that left “huge gaps, which will continue to emerge every time a significant place comes under threat".   

There is always a risk of course that many other owners get the demo crew in before their place gets a heritage listing 'slapped on it. Or after. On a Sunday. Or with a team of experts and lawyers. 

(N.B. heritage listings are always 'slapped' on, just like a place is always 'riddled' with asbestos. You can't just have a bit of either heritage or asbestos).

The council adopted an "...opt-in system whereby the owners of the relevant properties will be able to self-nominate their properties for heritage controls." As if! The Mayor reckons that “...council is committed to protecting Bayside’s heritage for future generations and recognizing the significance of mid-century modern architecture to our prized neighbourhood character.” Unless its worth more to knock it down of course.

RA ventures surprisingly close to this argument with ABC balanced vox-pops down the Bowls Club. The big heritage question in the well-shod neighbourhoods is always: "should the rights of private property owners to realise the maximum value of their biggest asset outweigh the communal desire to keep the character and amenity of their neighbourhood? Professor Burke is sympathetic to both sides of the argument but offers no answer.

The argument between the 'preserve character' and 'maximise profits' sides, however, is not new and has been going on since the beginning of the sandy streets subdivisions in the 1950s.  

Half of it is normal suburb, the other half is an Australian phenomenon. This second side of Beaumaris is the one loved by the majority of young families which have made their homes there since the war. The streets wind in and out a glorious tangle of tea-tree, banksia and gum trees. Through a curtain of boughs, you glimpse low, light, timber houses, white pergolas, oiled board walls, vivid splashes of color. You can stand in many populated streets and see nothing but trees and sensible modern architecture. This is the Beaumaris that attracted hundreds of progressive home-builders since the war. It has character, a happy quality of its own somewhere between a sophisticated studio-flat and a holiday camp. And it is thoroughly Australian. If anyone doubts Melbourne's accomplishments in advanced small house design, they should drive off Beach Road and wander the sandy back roads. (But be careful to pick a dry day.) 

(1954 'BUILDING AND DESIGN --', The Herald 8 June, p. 14.)_

IT is the one and only district in Australia where modern design and tree-conservation are clearly favored by at least half the population.

The origins of this attitude might go back to the Garden City vision of Wallace A Bartlett, who arrived from Sussex, England in 1937 to run the Dunlop Rubber Company and put forward plans to relocate the Montague Factory to a new site at Beaumaris where the company designed an Industrial Garden Village for 5,000 People (The Argus 9 Dec 1944 p. 8).  

It never happened, but the idea seems to have stuck.

The Lyon house at least made it into the heritage overlay (HO783), 

- 10 Valmont Avenue, Beaumaris - constructed in 1952 and extended in 1957, to a design by architect Eric Lyon is significant. 

The statement of significance (stripped of some of the heritage) tells us it:

• is one of the earliest houses built in Valmont Avenue  
• demonstrates the particular development phase of Beaumaris in the 1950s and 1960s, and post-war demand for housing in Melbourne 
• is an intact and good representative example of an early mid-century modernist style house with very few changes 
• reflects the profound influence of the International style, vis: a single flat roof structure; extensive panel glazed windows; ‘H’ shaped floor plan, zoned living, service and private areas; exposed structural elements and use of contrasting materials and texture; and the setting of the house which incorporates a courtyard and the retention of indigenous plants. 
• is a fine, intact and rare example of the residential work of Eric Lyon, 
• displays progressive concepts regarding the spatial integration on internal and external living areas that emerged during the post-war period. 
• has manipulation of form, articulation of function, honest expression of structural elements and materials and a courtyard for outdoor recreation reflective of the progressive ideals of modernist residential architecture of the time.  

Love a bit of articulated function. 

I can't find much else by Lyon except a spiky Murrumbeen a Church and 17 Hepburn Avenue Beaumaris but I gather a lot of architecture goes unnoticed, since we have little public conversation about it, despite the democratisation of media in the digital space. Perhaps Eric, despite his evident profile at the time, worked quietly in the background.

The State Library gives us a glimpse of what it looked like when nearly new - some wooden shackiness appropriate to the beachside location.

and the cement tile veneer reflects the experimentation with new materials.

Just like the 1960s AV Jennings school I went to.  Who knew we were taught quadratic equations in cutting edge architecture? - why didn't anyone mention that crack in the wall? It makes me feel ill at ease.

We have plans:

and Eric's son John has a fabulous collection of slides and home movies, at least some of which look like they have been scanned, at least by the programmers.

Burke explains the stained timber facade as due to post war brick shortages. Except most of the rear is brick. So perhaps it was an aesthetic choice.  It went blue for a while.

The real estate agent had two bob each way when it sold in 2013:

Designed and constructed in the early 50s by renowned local architect, Eric Lyon, this classic corner positioned, 4 bedroom home is a testament to innovative, post war architecture. Lived in by Eric and his wife since day one, this coveted Deauville Estate positioned residence is now presented unchanged over the decades. In fact a step inside is like entering a time warp. The original fixtures and fittings have worn well over the years but this home really is ready for a complete restoration by an architectural purist. Or, if you are game, it could be a potential new home site (land size approx 725 sqm, 18m frontage). Featured in magazines such as Period Home Renovator, the experimental, timeless design provides delightful garden outlooks from every room. Equipped with multiple, purpose designed storage solutions, the home was built in two separate wings. All four bedrooms (with BIRs) are set to the north with exposed masonry block exterior, whilst the two living zones, lower tier home office and kitchen are set to the front. A brick wall with OFP to one side divides the front lounge and dining rooms and the every day living zone includes a servery into a separate kitchen with built in diner style meals zone and original milkmans delivery chute! Off the hallway, the bathroom is divided into three separate rooms. With wonderful garden views, timeless design and rich creativity, this classic Beaumaris home also includes an under level carport.

It's one that really didn't look like it needed restoration. Just a lick of paint and new carpets.

Except for the asbestos, and some tired wall finishes, and from the older aerials the rusty flat roof. Did it leak?

So what does Prof. Burke have to say about it?

His mantra is similar to the last RA host Harrison - "how can they update the house for modern lifestyles?". As if humans can't adapt their lifestyle to their environment.

Adapting to modern lifestyles seems to mean stripping out and refitting the kitchen and bathroom, taking out the wall to the dining room and replacing some tiles. An en-suit is essential. A few towel rails and a bathroom cabinet are reused, and the cork floor is kept, while the originally-planned but never realised deck will be finally built. Not really much to change then. 

The quality of the work is worth noting - which might be due to the $360000 budget, but more so to "head carpenter Adrian". He is really the star of the show - making possible both the ambitions of the owners, and creation of quality work. Adrian Moscatt of Top Level Carpentry.

When a shadow line timber is accidentally cut up, Adrian remakes it to original spec.

He makes a really nice door with wedge-tightened mortice and tennon joints. He also shows that wonderful self satisfaction craftspeople get from a really nice bit of work when he installs a hide-away sliding door with perfectly matched timber lining.

Another Restoration hero is Arne Groskopf, who is a quiet and reserved, and doesn't have a big head at all, but works quietly restoring all manner of things. He strips down and remakes the Beco light fittings - who would have thought such things would be part of the retro-fetish home decorator thing. Anyway -see his work here.  

So what is to be done with this place? While the floor plan remains much the same, the 50s feel fades when the old fashioned elements - stainless steel sinks, cupboard doors in the kitchens, old brown tiles, etc - are removed. The bright ceilings with their shadow lines, the cork tiles, the Beco light fittings, even the painted mural in the dunny all stay. So maybe I should concede that this is a pretty good restoration.

A few of the unusual elements that reflect both the owner's extra effort to tailor the house to his family's own needs (and lifestyle) are evident: Built in book cases abount; a sound system piped (really wired) all around the house; and a clever milk and bread delivery hatch that has found a new use for contactless, online shopping deliveries during covid.

But what is to become of the MCMs? All around units, dual occupancies and McMansions are going up. The measure of class aspirations have changed. The connection to the outdoors and openness to the street and it's suburbanite communities has been replaced by the home theatre and indoor-outdoor room. I presume people with architectual training design these too. Optimistic openness has been replaced by private insularity. Full realisation of their most valuable asset is more important than getting on with the neighbours. One biddy at the bowls club reckons if they want to preserve the houses, they can preserve their own.

Hopefully the trend will swing again. The residents and members of Beaumaris Modern will be campaining for it to happen in any case.