I had the good fortune of growing up with my brother Michael at the house in Rose Bay, which was remodelled in 1962 from its 1920’s origins. As a young boy, Saturday mornings were often spent inspecting construction progress.
The initial concept was to maximise the site’s development potential with a 2 storey house taking advantage of the allowable height and floor space controls. A Development Application was approved for this diagram but considering Sonia and my lifestyle, the fact that our children had
grown up and there was no need to be lumbered with more maintenance and financial burden, the idea of an oversized mansion for 2 people was eventually abandoned. There was no desire to build
a monument or demolish the house completely but, rather, to retain the bones of the place and enhance it with a series of effective, surgical incisions. Following completion of construction drawings and the necessary approvals, construction began in 2023. I knew this site like the back of my hand. It’s embedded in my consciousness. It occupies a rock ledge elevated from the street. Access is up 35
steps from a cul de sac or down 42 steps from the continuation of the street above. This made construction difficult. Whilst the site’s detachment and elevation is an inconvenience, it creates a uniquely private experience. This challenge became the opportunity.
The valley is now a populated human suburbia, but predominantly an urban forest with a vast golf course through the middle of it. Whilst the site of this house is in a suburban subdivision, its rocky
terrain and bushland setting make it unique in a dense city like Sydney. As the son of the original owners, now an architect who has spent almost half his life living there, often secretly critical of
aspects of it, I found a new role as its custodian. By the time the renovation plans were finalised I had remarried Sonia Blasco Lazaro and the brief for the project had changed somewhat. As (almost)
empty nesters, we wanted a place to live the rest of our lives in total enjoyment of the landscape as well as the city. We embarked on a regeneration of the gardens. No lawns or hedges, just native
plants, grasses and ferns. The only exotic species is a bamboo screen around the site perimeter, which separates us visually from the neighbours. This was critical to achieving a private oasis.
The house itself sits between the front and rear bush and is now almost incidental in the landscape. It’s a single level, flat roof structure with a basement following the ground line. The western aspect from the site allows observation of the maritime activities which, in 1940, witnessed my father’s arrival. The view of the harbour and city from this rock ledge, which I’ve experienced for 60 years, has never ceased to amaze me.
The living “room” was conceived as a vast space, extending from the bookshelf buttressing the escarpment on the eastern side of the room, all the way across the valley to Bellevue Hill and 6km
to the high-rise facades of the city beyond. Pierre Chareau’s wonderful Maison de Verre, which I visited in 1994, was an inspiration. Its steel framed glass block wall provides light and
privacy to a Parisian courtyard. With a view of Sydney Harbour, the Maison de Verre’s steel and glass façade took the form of a more transparent envelope. This double-glazed façade with operable
external blinds, forms a veil to protect the interior from strong Australian summer sun. The living room, the primary public and social space of the house is treated as a domestic piazza.
Its 5‑metre-high ceiling embraces the distant view as well as the trees and landscape in the foreground. It’s a place to greet guests and conduct more public activities.
Prefabricated construction – steel and glass – installed by crane, was a pragmatic approach to building on this site. Over the past 40 years these materials have become my palette but here they were complimented and perhaps overshadowed by extensive use of timber – engineered oak flooring, spotted gum walls, ceilings, cladding and joinery. Lighting and furnishings are integral. Artworks are arranged wherever walls permit, but Lin Utzon’s mural in the living room is the latest addition. It was painted following site visits and discussions during construction and conceived specifically for the space it occupies. It was transported from her Mallorca studio to its
final location, where it arrests entering guests and commands its presence. As architect, builder and client, my daily attendance during 18 months of construction was an intense experience. I rediscovered that the doing and making of something creates an inviolable connection with it. Despite intermittent trips to Spain, Sonia’s homeland, and other parts of the world, this is our forever house. We hope to inhabit it together for our remaining decades on the planet.
