Circus Performer

Words by Graeme Burgess
Photography Simon Devitt

A new house in Orakei, Auckland by Hillery Priest architects impresses the crowds with a few well-honed tricks.

A morning at the circus. How decadent and surreal, particularly on a sunny weekday morning. This is not, however, the old school circus of sawdust, tents and carni-folk, instead this is the town-planned version. Fenton Circus, a wide circle of grass ringed with a loping road and suburban houses, was created in the 1930s as a focal point of the planned State Housing development of Orakei, the ‘people’s’ housing poised above what, even then, was Auckland’s best address: Paratai Drive. Now the state has sold up and there is barely a trace of the once regimented public housing; it has gone or been subsumed by layers of additions and alterations. If there are any carni-folk left here they were very successful ones and are now retired.

The circus has become a parade of self-expression, the grand houses have entered the ring, and have begun to respond to the scale of the place and to sigh and applaud at the amazing views. This is an extraordinary environment, partly because like the rest of Auckland, it possesses natural beauty, the orientation and the outlook is breathtaking, but also the plan of the suburb is so strong and, in a New Zealand context, so outlandish, that the old ordering of the place becomes a key part of the performance. The circle of the road connects the houses and the broad green lawn at the centre provides a self-conscious public realm for daily life. The lawn was empty when I visited but that was a mid-week morning so no kids playing footy, no neighbourhood picnics, no smooching lovers… I hope that happens, a green expansiveness like this looked too good to go to waste.

So what about the performers? This circus is so big it demands large scale. From the remnants of the 1930s housing lost around the edges one can imagine that the state houses were not enough to reinforce this place and that there has always been a disjunction between the scale of the arena and the scale of the private world around it. In the last few decades the circus has begun to bulk up, private ownership has changed the scene, the houses have taken steroids and begun to express themselves… the circus has become a theatre for display! So far the show is pretty disappointing – a few badly made-up clowns, the odd show pony, certainly no tattooed ladies but – tah dah! – there is a handsome bearded lady, or is it a strongman?

The house I came to visit, designed by Hillery Priest Architects, is the only house on Fenton Circus that comes close to responding to the environment. It stands out by being bold and by being bold it expresses itself in the arena. It is theatrical in a friendly manner, strong in form and appearance but not intimidating; imagine a wink from the bearded lady.

From the street it has a strong but not overwhelming appearance. It does not turn its back on its audience but rather, it fronts up and flexes its concrete muscle. It is too interesting to intimidate, instead you want to touch it, to feel its fluted concrete walls, to enter the ripple-surfaced door and touch that too in passing. This place is sensual and large, in fact it is hard to forget the large as every part of the building declares its size and strength, even the joinery would challenge a strongman: “Watch Ivan pull open the three metre door with just one finger!”

The huge entry door is surrounded by glass and behind the glass the fluting of the concrete is echoed by the folds of two-storey diaphanous curtains. Through the door is the clearly planned interior, a finely articulated sequence of living areas on the ground floor opening out from around the spine of the entry hallway. From the lobby a crisp stair rises in a single bound to the equally well-planned private rooms above.

The plan is rewarding, it is simple but effective, no fancy tricks are required as the house unfolds before you. The different spaces are all connected to the central pathway, all the living spaces are folded to the north-facing garden. From the terrace, the concrete post and beam structure steps into the grand end room, flexing and showing off. Slightly overblown, posing for effect, this could be overwhelming but it is not. The spaces feel carefully considered and friendly family spaces. The big moments, and there are many of them, just happen, the view, the outdoor pool, the garden terraces, these are all an integral part of the design and fit effortlessly.

The small moments in and around the house also reward the audience. This is a sensuous environment filled with light, sometimes from unexpected angles, and constructed (in the design sense) with care. The strongest of these is the deep long reveal in the ceiling above the kitchen bench that floods this area in light and creates a focal point at the end of the entry hallway. The bench itself is a sculptural object almost animate (it has a soulmate crouching into the yard outside, a giant Corbousian concrete bench seat). The ceilings are punched to create light in the bathrooms too; here the holes are small and deliberately placed over vanity areas or in showers. Slot windows are also used to throw light into spaces from the side washing the tiled walls rather than creating views. I liked that immensely.

Contrasting surfaces reward the hand and eye, the curtains again play a key role as enormous veils over the windows creating an effect both tantalising and bold. Every plane has been carefully considered. Most surfaces are plain and flat, intersecting crisply at the edges but special areas have been highlighted with texture, materials, and colour as in the thin, stained timber ballustrades or the rose head nail deck fixings. The contrast of the ordinary with fine craft is a theme running through the house, a type of “construction jewellery”.

There were surprises: the widest, lowest gas fire I have ever seen, fitted into the David White-made cabinetry in the living area; and a vivid red wallpapered wall, chosen by interior designer Ann Motion, at the end of the living room.

After the performance what was most memorable was the refinement of the plan and the manner in which a place of this scale in this situation was so relaxed – the bearded lady comfortable with herself and delighted to be on show.