Baptist Church Ballarat Restoration Australia Series 3 Episode 5

When a former Baptist Church cum nightclub hits the market in Ballarat, local anaesthetist Michael Whitehead buys it and plans to turn it into a home, but he soon finds the task could drag on for eternity!

Link to iview

The Dawson Street Baptist Church had been one of the places that defined the character of Ballarat - or the character of refined establishment that its citizens preferred to project. It featured prominently in the early 1970s guide by K.J. Turnbull "Townscape : an impression of urban Ballarat for those who hate guide books", and of course it was on Rose postcards. But this was in the 1970s, when heritage was only coming to be appreciated and god was loosing command. So the Baptists sold it in 1972.

The Baptists abandoned their Dawson Street church in 1972 and it became the White House restaurant and then the Power House night club, described as notorious by the local media but fondly remembered by former patrons.

But after having been left derelict for more than a decade and a home to vermin, the "CBD icon" was purchased by Ballarat anaesthetist Michael Whitehead who apparently "relished the chance to show some love" to the faded structure ... and its column façade." Whitehead is a Board Member of the Ballarat Arts Foundation, President of Ballarat Lyric Theatre, and a recipient of the Ballarat South Rotary-BAF Denis Bateman Award for contribution to the Ballarat Arts community. As close to a Medici as Ballarat is likely to get. We clearly need more of his sort of philanthropist if heritage buildings will survive in the future. 

The building was listed for sale at $800,000 + GST (tax) and had been on the market from about 2011, but a long campaign by various real estate agents seemed unfruitful, despite The Ballarat Courier making a clever music pun with its video of the band Damaged.

Damaged though it clearly was, there was not much in the episode to show its condition before the restoration works had already started. I presume there was an archival record made prior to the works commencing. Fortunately we have the prolific local heritage photographer Lisa Gervasoni to thank for some documentation.

The VHR says:

Designed by Ballarat architect J.A. Doane, begun in 1866-67 and completed externally in 1875-79.  renovated in 1891, 1910 and again in 1933. In 1958 further internal changes were made. A new pulpit and panelling in front of the choir stalls were dedicated in September 1959. The stuccoed main facade features a double storied, pedimented prostyle portico on fluted Corinthian columns. The main wall is faced with giant Corinthian pilasters supporting the parapet and continuous entablature and is infilled with ashlar masonry and blind pedimented openings. 

In its heyday, it was a grand and imposing edifice, probably modelled on the Collins Street Baptist Church in Melbourne where the resident historian Ros (Otzen - no surname provided) provided the back storey.

The Ballarat Baptists played a small role in scientific debates in the nineteenth century, pronouncing on matters such as Darwins new evolution theory:

“Cast away all doubt suggested by reason [and pursue] a thorough belief in the assurance contained in the text and a faith in the spirit by which all prayers will be heard and answered.”  Rev. C Clarke of London, Dawson Street Baptist Church, Ballarat, June 1869  

Dr Whitehead doesn't seem like the do it yourself sort of restorer, and the building he has taken on, like several other of the projects in this season, is on a scale that any individual is unlikely going to be able to tackle. So he gets the local company, Nat Twaits Building, to manage and complete the project. Like Episode 1 of this season, we wonder if this firm has the skills and experience to understand and properly carryout an authentic restoration of this sort. Nat's own website actually provides more substantial information on the progress of the works and the process of filming it, noting that Restoration Australia visited about five times: when the hydronically heated floor was installed; when it was all framed up;  when it was all plastered; when structural steel was going in; when the double-glazed windows were installed; and then the final. (I don't think Harrison mentions that the windows were double glazed). Whitehead does have a go at tidying up the render with a little grinding wheel on a drill, and knocking out a few bits of glass.

While building shell has undergone a cosmetic restoration (there doesn't seem to have been any d=need of major structural repairs) , the big change has involved building a complete new house along with a separate flat inside the church. The once impressive classical space can no longer be appreciated in its awe inspiring whiteness. In any case after 150 years as a public venue for the sacred and profane, private ownership now excludes public access. Except for an Open House event that allowed some public inspection, so perhaps this might continue in the future.

The design philosophy was "...to bring the property into the modern era, while retaining the architectural style and unique elements ... Our focus was to honour the architecture of the building while also creating a liveable, modern residence...We not only retained and restored the building’s striking roman columns, but have also incorporated the original Baptism pit as a feature of the main living area.”

Of course there are the technical issues to overcome, and heritage regulation means there has to be a compromise. As usual, the heritage architect is all powerful and to be feared. In this case it is  Wendy (Jacobs - why can't they give people their full names?) who has the final say, and that Heritage Victoria is leaving it up to her. Either Wendy has considerable sway with the bureaucrats, or government cutbacks mean they can't spare the time to make decisions. Since new permits seem to be required for all the changes of mind, it is more likely that the whole business is worked out through the usual complexities of consultations, meetings, emails, updated plans, new permit applications, and amendments. 

Wendy is finally convinced that the window frames can't be saved so reproductions can be made. Ballarat local carpenter Andrew does a great job on these using his grandfather's book to design the nail-less key to tie in the parts (again Andrew isn't given a surname - do they have to pay them under equity rules if they get a proper credit?)

A concrete floor is desired, but another heritage permit is required and causing further delays, and then the bureaucrats won't give in, so a timber floor is reinstated, and Harrison concedes that this is probably good heritage practice, but their is no sign of it in the final restoration - just lots of tiles. One wonders what might have been under the floor. Usually these projects turn up various bits of archaeological evidence, a few coins, some religious ephemera perhaps.

Some more light is needed at the back and Heritage Victoria approve cutting some big holes through the back wall. They can't be that bad then.

Some of the changes include cutting holes in the roof for skylights since the "glass box inside a bluestone box" makes getting natural light into the rooms a problem - but it did become possible to expose some of the original trusses. 

Strict heritage regulation prohibited touching the walls, so the actual residence is a mostly freestanding structure set inside the church. But should it matter since next to no one will see the inside.

The don't touch the walls rule seems to have been broken in a couple of places, such as the cut into the balcony.

The baptismal bath is sacrosanct (from a heritage point of view) and options are to use it as a spa, or cover it up, but in the end it gets a glass floor over it in the middle of the new lounge room. glazed over. For a lounge room covering it with carpet might have been more comfortable. 

There is the usual issue about the cost blowing out. In fact where would the drama be in these projects if there wasn't the risk of either ruined relationships or bank balances. The test set down in the beginning is a a cost of $1.6 and time scale of 18 months, but then there are the $200,000- to $500,000 quotes to fix the facade.

But by some miracle the cost becomes only $80,000, even though this is just "for the public to see a beautiful building" and of no benefit to him. It is however, a good looking result.

In the end time and costs blow out to $3 million with the purchase. Still that seems reasonable for a passion project and the ultimate trophy home.

Reuse of former spiritual places is a peculiar phenomenon. It tells of the diminishing numbers of the faithful, but also society's inability or indifference to maintaining places of communal value.  The last few decades of commercial use and now the private capital input to restore it shows how heritage conservation outcomes are now dependent on market forces rather than public funding.

Will we eventually loose all the grand internal public heritage spaces.

Some Sources:

A History of Ballarat Baptist Church, leaflet housed in the Victorian Baptist Union 

archives. Dawson Street Baptist Church (Ballarat, Vic.).  1960,  The Building of a church : historical outline of the first 100 years of the Dawson Street Baptist Church : 1860 - 1960  The Church, 

 Ballarat Star, 13 September 1871, p2c4. 

http://www.ballarathistoricalsociety.com/collection/Records/Record387.81.htm

Brunswick Brickworks latest demolition application

Developers of the Brunswick Brickworks have lodged a new application with Heritage Victoria to demolish the brick press building.

This is just the latest in attempts to get rid of any heritage on the site that might get in the way of development and profits.

There have been a number of developers involved on the site in the last couple of decades. Glenvill Homes has previously described the development in glowing heritage terms:

In 1863 the Hoffman's Brickworks was the largest brickworks in Brunswick. Now this unique, colourful and cosmopolitan project incorporates all of the heritage atmosphere with mews-style residences, warehouse-style apartments with lofty ceilings and exposed beams, underground parking and three storey townhouses. 

The Heritage precinct, incorporating heritage-listed kilns and buildings, will be converted to offices and an arts precinct as well as urban conservation areas.

And it received the Best Urban Development – Planning Excellence 1999 and HIA National Award for Best Medium Density Project 2003.

But recently, the Herald Sun reported that "Brunswick’s Hoffman Brickworks developer has been ordered to clean up two buildings by the environmental watchdog after extensive contamination was found at the Dawson St site. But experts have said its removal is impossible without demolition." but then reported that "Victoria’s heritage watchdog has poured cold water on a developers push to demolished a derelict building at the historic 157-year-old Brunswick brickworks where the roof collapsed earlier this month."

But then the same paper was excited about presenting a "first look at Hoffman Brickworks redevelopment. The developer of the historic Hoffman Brickworks site in Brunswick has unveiled their first plans for the site." 

The heritage impact statement from a couple of years ago concluded that complete demolition of the historic buildings and replacement with a new building was "in accord with the principles of the Burra Charter and is entirely supportable from a heritage perspective."

This is a very similar scheme to one presented a couple of years ago that Heritage Victoria flatly rejected - see previous version here.

The original development approvals were based on a compromise that some of the buildings could be demolished, some would be converted to apartments, extensive new apartment buildings would be erected and the most significant building would be restored and used for heritage interpretation. Profits from the new build would go to the restoration and interpretation costs. Sounds good on paper, and when you consider that there have been about 250 units built, selling for over half a million dollars each in current values, and that this represents about $40 million profit in current values, you would think that there would have been plenty of money to at least maintain and repair the historic structures. 

You would be wrong though

So, I have made the following submission to Heritage Victoria.

The Brunswick Brickworks is the most important remaining historic element of Melbourne's industrial heritage and the most prominent historical place related to the boom period and Marvellous Melbourne. I said when the developers got hold of this site and promised all sorts of conservation and preservation that I did not believe them, that they were trying to get as much developable area and profit out of it as they could and would just walk away when they had taken the profits and returned none of the benefits. Unfortunately with each new demolition application, and the continued neglect of basic maintenance of the historic structures, I am being proven correct.

This is just a more legal version of the Carlton Inn. Demolition by neglect. The structural issues described in the application are attributable in whole or part to the continuing neglect by the applicant, including the failure to undertake works to stabilise and protect the building following the permitted demolition of the northern section and Building 7 to the west (and contrary to the structural engineering advice provided to the applicant by their own structural engineers).

Heritage Victoria has made numerous concessions to the developers of this site on the promise that the heritage values will be conserved, and that income generated by development of some parts for apartments would fund the restoration and interpretation of the most significant parts. Well we are at the point where the most significant parts – the clay processing and brick pressing buildings, are the only ones left that have not been either demolished or severely compromised by unsympathetic alterations involving substantial demolition of original fabric.

The concessions in the past were that they could demolish other buildings, rebuild the kilns for selling off, turn almost all the site into residential and commercial development, and in return, a small part would be repaired, conserved and interpreted to the public. Now even this will be sacrificed under this plan.

The main arguments the owners make for demolition is that contamination and the structural condition makes the buildings beyond repair. This is false. Firstly, nothing is beyond repair, and the Heritage Council and Heritage Victoria will be well aware of many examples where developers have argued this case, even brought out heritage consultants to support them, and then having lost, the buildings have been successfully conserved, restored and reused. I would draw your attention to Harricks Homestead in Keilor, and 864 Swanston St Carlton as two such examples both of which had experts argue that they were so dilapidated that they could not possibly be restored or reused. I know they are of a different scale, but if heritage experts are unable to recognise that such buildings cannot be successfully repaired, then their judgement on larger buildings cannot be accepted. I suggest you also look at the Richmond Power Station, which was also claimed back in the 1980s to be structurally unsound and grossly contaminated to the point that it could not be retained for any modern use. And yet it was eventual adapted and restored to a fabulous state preserving much of its heritage character. As a former coal fired power station, this site had potentially far worse contamination issues that the brickworks could possibly have, but still these issues were successfully addressed and a profitable development was achieved.

I would like to make the further point that despite the Heritage Impact Statement claiming the building is too dilapidated and contaminated to retain, there is in fact, no actual evidence to back this up. Nowhere in any of the contamination and engineering reports do they state that the building cannot be repaired and made safe, only that this work needs to be carried out.  Contamination issues have been known for over twenty years without any action being taken and with the surrounding area being developed, presumably under the necessary EPA approvals. The Compass Environmental report only indicates what is not known  regarding the extent of contamination. It does not consider options for mitigating contamination, or treatment that would allow retention of the existing buildings. This has not even been considered, and so the argument that contamination requires demolition of the buildings should be dismissed entirely.

The application fails to demonstrate that structural remediation is not possible. In fact, the application includes a report by a well-respected structural engineering firm that confirms the possibility of structural repair.  Yes the building needs repair and remediation, and some additional investigation following stabilisation with support scaffolding. The owners should have obtained advice and costings about how these works should be done, rather than try and use incomplete assessments to argue for demolition. Also, if they go on to claim that the cost of repair and remediation is too great, they should be required to provide evidence in the form of independent quotes for the work that is required in order to retain the buildings and the financials for the entire development (i.e. how much has been earned in sales, cost of development, profit, etc.) for all the previous development that has occurred. Their initial argument for being allowed to develop the site beyond what the planning scheme and State and municipal planning policies allowed, was that the profit from the development (including development on the sites of other historic buildings in the complex, including the demolished kiln, gate house and others) would fund not just retention of the remaining structures, but their restoration, interpretation, a museum and community access. None of this has happened apart from repair to structures used for conversion to private residences, and a few bits of machinery placed around the site with no contextualisation.

The applicant has failed to secure the site from illegal access, with an inadequate temporary fence that was readily breached. They have also failed to secure and protect an extensive collection of portable objects that are contributory to the significance of the site.

If they had taken their responsibilities under the Heritage Act seriously, they would have addressed structural and safety issues long ago, rather than leave the site open to vandals and the elements to ensure further deterioration would occur. If the owners had spent any money on maintenance and repair on the site in the last 20 years, they could have prevented deterioration and progressively dealt with structural problems.

In fact, their own previous documents (the 1998 structural engineering report by The O’Neill Group) that have been withheld from this application, demonstrates a decline in the condition of the buildings during the applicant’s period of ownership and management . The application fails to disclose this report. This suggests there is evidence to support a case for prosecuting the owners for failing to properly maintain the buildings and allowing them to deteriorate.

This is a clear case of demolition by neglect. If Heritage Victoria and the Heritage Council approve the demolition, then they are sending a signal that such heritage sites do not require preservation,  that negligent land owners can get away with allowing their buildings to fall down, and that instead of being prosecuted and forced to rectify the damage they have allowed to happen, they will be rewarded with a windfall of  approval of more intensive development and fewer heritage conditions.

It is clear from the heritage assessments and analyses of the Brunswick Brickworks that demolition of Buildings 5 and 6 would result in the total and permanent loss of the cultural heritage significance not only of these buildings, but also of the greater site. The demolition of Buildings 5 and 6 would have a severe, irreversible impact on the cultural significance of the  Hoffman Brickworks site as a whole, and therefore a significant impact on the cultural heritage of the State of Victoria. The compromised and much altered kilns cannot on their own represent the significant contribution of this site to Victoria's history and development. There is no evidence presented that Building 5 and 6 are of any lesser significance than when entered into the Victorian Heritage Register.

The application fails to consider alternatives to complete demolition that would enable the applicant to fulfil the requirements of existing approvals and their own commitments and plans, including the development of an Interpretation Centre as documented in the Interpretation Concepts and Overlay (Look Ear Pty Ltd 2006, 2010 respectively).

The proposal to reinstall some of the brick presses, in an area otherwise intended as a commercial lease, divorced from their contexts, with no evidence of the integrated clay processing, conveyors, drive shafts and control facilities, or the distinctive structural form or original materials of the buildings, and none of the patina that conveys the working and social history of the site will leave it sterile and meaningless. Any interpretation will necessarily be subservient to the commercial requirements of the space and ultimately will be discarded in the next café refit or renovation. 

The argument that a small interpretive display is sufficient to mitigate the loss of buildings of primary significance, which are crucial to the understanding of the brickmaking process, the machinery, the people who worked there and the historical connection to the rest of Melbourne’s building boom history, is entirely false and disingenuous, particularly in that it comes from a former representative of ICOMOS, which states in its Charter for the Interpretation and Presentation of Cultural Heritage Sites and Interpretation Practice Note (November 2013) that: ‘It is not acceptable to use interpretation as an alternative to the physical conservation of a place’. Instead ‘Interpretation is part of a holistic package of best practice conservation management measures’.

If this development application is approved it will be the final evidence of the complete failure of heritage regulations on the site.  The developers have been given concessions all the way, with an outcome that is sub-optimal in terms of planning, community and residential amenity outcomes. For example there have been numerous residents’ complaints about lack of parking, inadequate security, access for rubbish trucks and emergency services, trespassers, vandalism, dangers from possible collapsing buildings (recently proven by the collapse of the engine house roof), graffiti, rubbish and rats.

The developers have failed to complete repairs ordered by Moreland Council and Heritage Victoria, and as a result the buildings have been at the mercy of vandals and weather. They now argue that they are beyond repair.

Finally, if the developer’s need for profit is put ahead of the community’s need to preserve its heritage on this site, it will be a depressing precedent for all other remaining industrial (and other difficult) heritage in the state, including the only other remaining Victorian brickworks at Box Hill. It will also be rewarding a developer for failing to meet their original planning approvals,  consistently breaking past promises, and failing to undertake even the most basic maintenance and repair unless under extreme duress from Heritage Victoria.

The permit should not be granted. It will only put more profit into the private company’s hand, give nothing back to the community and do nothing to preserve our heritage.

Brunswick Brickworks is one of the most significant industrial heritage sites in Victoria, and if this cannot be saved, nothing can.

The National Trust has also made a submission

Clydesdale - Restoration Australia Series 3 Episode 4

 When carpenter Kate and her mother Ann buy two old prospecting huts for $100,000 in Clydesdale in regional Victoria, they take on 180 years worth of dilapidation

Finally some real restoration on this episode of the show - catch up on iview. Two fragile miners cottages composed of various materials - stone, wattle and daub, corrugated iron, in the Australian Vernacular. It brings back memories of the Gervasoni House, that is just down the road a bit, and presented similar issues of a dilapidated rustic dwelling in need of careful conservation. In that case, some questionable changes and additions were made, but this time, the owners have an uncanny understanding of the intrinsic values of ancient fabric. 

Harrison's narration is on a theme around the hand built vernacular, lacking high-end architecture, but responding to the immediate make-do nature of the gold rush, adapting natural materials found on the site. He seems a bit disparaging of the rustic nature of the buildings or perhaps just that as an architect he doesn't see intrinsic value in their form or design. He does however show some resect for the hand craft involved in bringing these basic materials together to create a liveable dwelling, both in relation to the original builders, and the new owners who are fixing it up with such care for the original materials.,

We get a potted history of the gold rushes, but no detail of the immediate area. No reference to the Pickpocket Diggings and the nearby Rise and Shine mine, that sprung up here in the 1860s, and were part of a shifting population that worked their way up and down the gullies and creek flats. One account remarked:

A considerable Improvement is said to have taken place at Pickpocket, Yandoit. The diggings here are rapidly extending, and it is said that if the rush continues to spread in the manner it has recently done, it will soon reach Newstead, which is two miles distant. The reefs at Yandoit are still yielding some remarkably rich stone.

The introduction talks about the buildings using local material, but most of the illustrations are of tents, when there are numerous real miners cottages in the district to provide the context and comparison. 

We also get some insight from a local historian Joan, who visited her great aunt Med at the cottages. Med was an original owner married John Yawn and raised 14 children here. She also provides the original name of the cottages, Hill View. A slightly contrived scene has mum Ann popping a photo of Aunt Med on the mantlepiece, which was both uncomfortable to watch for me, as it appeared to be for the niece as well. It is nice to preserve memories of a place, but better not to appropriate other peoples'. 

The cottages sit on a silurian rise - surrounded by alluvial flats. As Harrison stresses, the timber, brick, stone and clay came from the immediate area and can still be recognised. As a result, such buildings appear to grow out of the landscape, reflecting in their textures and colours the land around them.

                                   

The fundamentals of historic building conservation are on full view at Hill View. We are told early on that it is on the heritage overlay (Shire of Hepburn HO748), but this is almost dismissed by both Harrison -"the lightest form of heritage protection", and Kate - "just the exterior stuff". But in any case the protection of original fabric is dealt with sensitively both inside and out. Kate is the first to intone the conservation mantra "Our philosophy is to do as much as necessary but as little as possible", she could be the visiting heritage advisor or the man from ICOMOS, explaining the Burra Charter. By the way, where is the heritage advisor, making life hard for the owners? I guess there was no conflict to build the drama when the owners are doing a better job than any regulator would mandate.

The first cottage to be fixed up has an unusual combination of walls of both stone and what they describe as wattle and daub, but might be more properly termed pug and pole. Wattle and daub involves weaving thin branches into panels that are between the studs and then covered in a mix of clay and straw. Pole and pug involves larger branches nailed on the outside of the studs and the space in between filled with the clay mix. Miles Lewis has written extensively on this and presented numerous lectures. I wonder if Harrison undertook history of architecture and building units in his course.

There is a lot going on in these little buildings that tell the details of their history: a bush pole frame but with some squared timbers inside - possibly adze shaped, three walls of stone and one of the pole and pug, some later concrete reinforcing.

Lining the ceiling with calico was a nice touch and demonstrates a refined understanding of the history of vernacular building in Australia. Calico was used extensively on the gold fields for tents, clothing, wind sails for ventilating mines, as well as lining buildings. Sometimes remnants can be found under later plaster or lining boards. It would have been good to hear how Kate came to know about it. 

Calico also has a strong association with British colonialism, having been manufactured first in India (the name comes from Calicut, now known as Kozhikode). The cloth was imported cheaply into Britain until prohibitive tariffs under the Calico Acts, were introduced in the 18th century to protect the local textile industry. The result was the destruction of the Indian textile industry and the rise and dominance of British woollen industry and Lancashire cotton mills. As a result, canvas and calico became cheap materials practically dumped on colonial markets, while Australian wool became a prized import to England.

The migrant and mining settlements grew as canvas (and calico) towns. sometimes simple pole and canvas tents gradually evolved into substantial dwellings as they were built over with more permanent materials. Miles has again documented this process in several transitional examples. 

Ann goes wild with her linseed oil preparation for finishing all the timber work. Again thus is a level of authenticity that suggests a deeper understanding of historical Australian vernacular building practice than the show gives credit for.

Incidentally on a petty note, the staged scenes of arrival and discovery are a bit jarring - for example the shot of him driving to Clydesdale at the start shows him passing the sign to the town, but in the opposite direction, so he was leaving. 

You can stay there now and there seems to have been some concessions to modern comforts like water and power, despite the mention that the original cottages would not be connected so that they don't have to be brought up to modern building standards. 

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