Sovereignty + Spatial Design

I feel the tension in the atmosphere break down around me. Rain has drifted in over the escarpment after a 30 degree day. The relief is indescribable. I hear the water, I feel the breeze, I smell the rain, I see the change in shadows and light. I still taste coffee and cigarettes.

Yuin, do your thing.

In with the clouds roll thoughts of sovereignty. Questions, thoughts, obligations, contradictions, frustrations, dreams and aspirations. I'm missing beats -  jumping from one thing to the next and overwhelmed with uncertainty re: how to process. How to process something that I don't fully understand - in knowing that I may never truly understand my role in this space - and in knowing that I can't forever think, forever circle, that my honest obligation is to do.

I've done a lot of thinking about sovereignty and spatial design over the last 12 months and not committed to articulating it in drawing or design or writing or yarning. It's that big leap in testing - where to from here? Once it's down, I have a responsibility to push harder, to inject energy and to challenge myself in my thoughts and processes.

How do we / How do I ? How will I? Will I?

How do we, as blackfullas with obligation, responsibility and accountability, to our Country, to our communities - how do we utilise our skills, interests, knowledges, histories, passions - to assert our sovereignty through spatial design whilst maintaining integrity?  

In more broadly appreciating spatial design - structures, landscape, access and infrastructure, lighting, urban scale design - anything that connects us, guides us, functions for us in the built/designed environment - how can we, and how will we, choose to utilise these disruptions as assertions as a priority, and what value will this achieve for those who come after us? - our children, our children's children, our children's children's children...

Rather than being stuck within the institutional frameworks of archi/design and sprinkling on some blackness in the process - how do we move forward to asserting our sovereignty through our work & sprinkling on some archi/design along the way. How do we flip the power play and stop indulging in the frameworks that continue to oppress and control us?

When I think blackness and sovereignty and spatial design, I get caught up critiquing the current and changing impact and contemporary political value of tent embassies. I don't have an answer. I have endless questions. How can we negotiate and respect a history and obligation for protest and resistance - whilst also asserting our sovereignty for our own people - not as a protest, not to gain coverage, not asking for or demanding change from those that oppress us- but enacting change for our own people in whatever ways we can, our own healing, our own communities. I recognise and acknowledge the power and value in protest - but what do we do alongside this? We have a choice about how/when/why/where we place our energies, how we strategise.  

How do we move beyond symbols and gestures. How do we get mob to acknowledge our own aspirations, not those of white people. How do we move forward with divided communities and lateral violence, how do we honestly say "one mob" when we are constantly suspect of our own people willing to negotiate with bullshit token gestures and agreements with governments and their puppets who have no interest in blackness, but only in the money that goes into their own pockets.

The rain has stopped. The clouds are lifting. My thoughts, not so much. 

 

Competitions & Affairs

What occurs at the political intersection of design competitions & Aboriginal affairs?

First year, 2010. Quit my full-time job to go to uni, to study architecture at UNSW. Commuting for five hours each day to/from Randwick, CityRail became my home away from home. Myself and fellow commuters shared what seemed like endless hours of our weeks together on the South Coast line. We shared the olive-green leather seats and musty, re-circulated air. 

As I adjusted to the commute, I also adjusted to the new institutional environment of the University. During the first weeks of class I was confronted with the ignorance/absence of Aboriginal history/culture/peoples in archi-education. A history class which focussed on international architecture. A science class which skimmed over the technical and sustainable resolution of pre-invasion Aboriginal architecture. A design studio project based on a hypothetical site. An introductory subject, BENV1080, based on the white history, design and politics surrounding Australia’s most recognisable "piece" of architecture - the Sydney Opera House, designed by Danish architect Jorn Utzon.

In week four of my first semester, the Faculty of the Built Environment launched a new lecture series, the Utzon Lecture Series. The Faculty had arranged/paid for Jorn Utzon’s son, Jan, to give the first lecture - a talk about his late father, the "world renowned" architect of the SOH. Big deal, right? So I attended. Scientia Hall was full. Over 500 people in attendance, mostly suits. (My back-pack was an offence to the dress code - my first realisation that guest lectures are not targeted to students.) 

The Dean, Alec Tzannes, introduced Jan Utzon. Jan spoke for an hour. Richard Johnson closed. Simple..? 

Not so simple, at least not for one Koori first-year student sitting near the back of the hall. There was no Welcome to Country or acknowledgement. I was so frustrated that I didn’t listen to any of the lecture.  Why no Welcome? These people (and I) not welcome here? Why no respect for protocol? Is a tick-the-box acknowledgement better than no acknowledgement? Do I speak up? I don’t know anybody here. I’m not from here. I’ve just started uni… Do I really want to be a "trouble-maker" in my first semester..!?

I stayed silent. 

And although I was silent, my critical thinking of architecture and politics was triggered. A spark to the fire. My refusal to accept that Aboriginal Australia is removed and disconnected from architecture in this country; my questioning of how we have reached this point in architecture education, history, design, the institution, the industry, the politics. At the end of first semester, I based my final zine submission for BENV1080 on the politics impacting Aboriginal people in parallel to the politics impacting the Sydney Opera House - some of which I will share below. But first, some context for non-archi readers.

So. The SOH. 

The land of the Gadigal people, Eora nation. The site of the SOH was known as Dubbagullee to the local Aboriginal people, a ceremonial site and shell midden. Originally an island in what is now known as Port Jackson/Sydney Harbour, the small island only connected to the mainland at low tide. Constructed into a permanent peninsula by the British, the site is now known as Bennelong Point. Read more about the pre-invasion history of Sydney here.

Bennelong was a Wangal man, captured by the British in 1789 in order for the invading colony to exploit his knowledge of the Sydney area and Aboriginal peoples. In 1790, Governor Philip built a hut for Bennelong on what is now known as Bennelong Point. He was taken to Britain for "exhibition", and returned to Australia a "troubled" man in 1795, torn between Wangal and white culture. (Imagine being abducted by aliens...) Read more about Bennelong here.

Fast forward through the next 100+ years of continual genocide, forced assimilation and land theft, controlled and deliberate strategies which led to "Australia" becoming a federation of states in 1901. Fast forward another 50+ years of continual genocide, forced assimilation and land theft, Bennellong Point was now "owned" by the NSW State Government, who called for designs for a Sydney opera house in an international design competition. Danish architect Jorn Utzon won the competition in 1957. His design is considered a masterpiece for its innovation in architecture, engineering and construction technologies. The project ran over budget, and with State Government changing hands in 1965, the design integrity was compromised including late changes to the design brief. The Government refused to pay Utzon, and he resigned from the project in 1966. 

Architects rallied, to no avail. (The selfish rabble of the 60’s.) 

The project was handed over to new architects (Farmer, Hall, Todd & Littlemore) for completion, who incorporated changes to Utzon’s original design. Utzon never returned to Australia to see the final built project. Fair enough. 

"Truth"

Whilst learning about this history in first year, none of the pre- or early-invasion history was discussed beyond mention. My teachers stressed the impacts that political interference had on the architectural design integrity of the building, and encouraged us (students) to consider the impacts that such political interference had on the "truth" of architecture - without any critical discussion of the truth in place, the truth in the site’s history, the truth of Australia’s history. 

Consider: Assimilation policies were well in place during the time of the SOH competition and early construction period of the 1950’s and 60’s. At the Native Welfare Conference in 1961, all states agreed that Assimilation policies had the following defined purpose: 

"all aborigines and part-aborigines are expected eventually to attain the same manner of living as other Australians and to live as members of a single Australian community enjoying the same rights and privileges, accepting the same responsibilities, observing the same customs and influenced by the same beliefs, hopes and loyalties as other Australians"

That is: at the time of the SOH design competition, Aboriginal people were expected, in policy by the Australian Government, to accept cultural genocide. 

From the mid 1960’s, Government policies began to reflect an attempt at integrating Aboriginal people into wider Australian society, including Aboriginal people “gaining” the right to vote in 1962. Across wider Australia, there was a growing awareness of Aboriginal social justice issues thanks to the staunch blackfullas that worked tirelessly on resistance including the 1963 bark petititons in Yirrkala and the 1965 Freedom Ride.

In 1964, a change in NSW State Government led the way for Premier Robert Askin to change financial control for the SOH from the Opera House Committee to the Minister for Public Works - meaning the State now had direct control of the SOH project. The following year, 1966, Utzon resigned, & left Sydney. 

One year after that, 1967, the Commonwealth Referendum passed, not only allowing Aboriginal people to be included in the census, but also allowing the Commonwealth to make "special"/racist laws controlling Indigenous people. 

By the time construction of the SOH was completed, 1974, policies of integration were phased out and the concept of "self-determination" was established in order to:

"restore to the Aboriginal people of Australia their lost power of self determination in economic, social and political affairs"

This self-determination is something which we are still fighting for today - to have control over our own affairs as Aboriginal people. 

Q's

It’s early days in my questioning: what occurs at the political intersection of design competitions & Aboriginal affairs? What happens when a design competition, inherently political & deliberate in proposing a representation of "national identity", is completely disconnected from Aboriginal histories and current Aboriginal affairs/politics? 

Is there an impact from an architectural sculpture that looks like the sails of colonial ships entering the lands and waters belonging to sovereign Aboriginal peoples? (Note: Utzon stated that his sketch design was not inspired by the sails of yachts.)

Moving on from the 1960’s, what are the impacts of more recent design competitions that result in architecture that encapsulates a mis-connection with/to Aboriginal history/culture/identity and current politics impacting Aboriginal people (NMA, Barangaroo)? And how can/when will architecture education incorporate critical thinking inclusive of Aboriginal histories/cultures/politics? 

&

Of course, it is/has been frustrating over the years of my architecture education, to sit in lectures/tutorials/studios and be taught white history and white politics by white academics who have no awareness/acceptance of the truth of Australia’s history, and no understanding of current state and national politics that impact Aboriginal people. It is this frustration within architecture education that initially triggered my questioning and resistance to the colonial constructs of architecture in Australia - starting with one introductory subject about the SOH, the beloved architectural icon of Australia - occupying stolen Aboriginal land. 

Oh, Vonnegut x

"All of the true things that I am about to tell you are shameless lies."
Verse 1: The Book of Bokonon

I’m not usually one to indulge in fantasy, yet I recently caught myself in hyper-imagination whilst reflecting on my experiences of the past few weeks. (The white-washed KHT forum, the conversations beyond, the all-Black UTS forum and ABC Radio discussion, everything in between.)

The fantasy: that my dead, unrequited love, Kurt Vonnegut, is alive (again) and writing a short story framed around the last couple of months in Australia’s archi-sphere, the black-white intersection. 

///The imagining///

My speculation began: where would Vonnegut place the story? Melbourne, 2015 would be too literal, too non-fiction. Maybe it would be set on another planet, elsewhere in the Milky Way, some place invaded by Earth’s mankind, a strategic imposition, a land grab. Set in the future. Or set in Australia, with a time-travelling character from the future. The year 2050. 3000. 3500. Future-whenever.

Who would Vonnegut choose as the protagonist? Would it be me? Would Kurt research the fuck out of me, and would we share mutual admiration for each others work? Probably not. More likely, Vonnegut would caricature a lonely, depressed man in the archi-sphere. Maybe somebody who is desperately striving to become part of the archi-dialogue, the granfalloon. Maybe somebody specialising in archi-PR. Or somebody seemingly removed. A passer-by. A fringe-dweller. A nobody. (Pick me..?)

Excited by the prospect of such character development, and accepting that the lead role would not be an Aboriginal woman, I began to project from this yet-to-be-defined character’s loneliness and desperation, imagining the ridiculousness that Vonnegut would integrate into the character’s position, the order of events, the back story, the commentary. 

Would Kurt be keen to include some hand drawings, to animate the story? Would he consider a collaboration? If I drafted a quick sketch of KV's asshole drawing alongside LK’s cunt sketch, could I persuade him? What would he say about the change in wide-open-beaver cosmetic preference since Breakfast of Champions?

Would Vonnegut delve into the over-arching politics of race-relations in Australia? The power plays? Or would he consider it a personal story, a reflective narrative, the journey of an individual. A story based around an archi-apocalypse? Archi-anarchy? All of the above..?

I imagined Vonnegut’s inclusion of dialogue beyond verbal communication, some empty poetry via a future-comm-tech that he would propose for the story. Some comical private messages between characters. Many cringe worthy moments of embarrassment, shame, honesty, pride. 

After each few paragraphs, would Kurt highlight these “moments” with a repeated motif as he does in Slapstick (“hi ho”) and Slaughterhouse-Five (“so it goes”)? Maybe he would choose something more architectural, something to the effect of: “wank, wank”.

///Reality check///

Vonnegut is dead. The closest links I have with Kurt: he had a respectful appreciation for extended family, kinship beyond bloodlines, and his father was an architect.

My unrequited admiration for KV is not perfect. Vonnegut referred to Indigenous peoples several times in his work, none of which I am particularly fond of. A few that I question: a graduation speech at Fredonia College, New York (1978), published in Welcome to the Monkey House: Palm Sunday (1994, p. 489);  Bluebeard: The Autobiography of Rabo Karabekian (1987, p. 190), and; God Bless You, Dr Kevorkian (1999, pp. 33-5). 

The themes are too close to home for me to uncritically accept his social commentary. In God Bless You, Dr Kevorkian, KV tasks Dr Kevorkian to administer near-death experiences in order for Vonnegut to access heaven and interview its occupants, including Shakespeare, Hitler, Trout, and one such meeting which refers to Aboriginal people massacred in Tasmania. On one hand, I respect that he framed a whole chapter around the genocide of Aboriginal people in Tasmania, that he acknowledged the contemporary struggles in Australia: “Only in 1967, practically the day before yesterday, were the surviving Australian Aborigines granted citizenship”. Yet it is so ignorant to subscribe to the Truganini-was-the-last-Aboriginal-of-Tasmania mindset by stating:“There were no survivors on Tasmania”. 

Am I consciously blind in awe of KV's work that I don’t want to consider the possibility that he was misinformed? Ignorant, even? That he didn't do his best? That he is projecting his ignorance to hundreds of thousands of readers? Or am I expected to let this slide in order to "appreciate" the over-all point he was trying to make? Is this any different from architectural gestures with “good intentions” that simplify and exploit Aboriginal themes of history/culture/identity in built form? 

A difference: KV’s literature is not a physical imposition. As a reader, I have the liberty to stop reading, to close the book. God Bless You, Dr Kevorkian is not a building-sized novel, shouting its views all over the place.

Aside from these few references, Vonnegut’s work inspires and reminds me to see the ridiculousness and humour in times of frustration and in the world of ignorance and arrogance. A reminder that we are all human. 

If you haven’t come across any of Vonnegut’s work before, it is well worth the read. My favourite KV book is Slapstick, followed (in no order) by: Cat’s Cradle, The Sirens of Titan, Breakfast of Champions, and all his other works. 

To close with a KV quote from his “Palm Sunday” (humanist/agnostic?) sermon, 1980:

“Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion, to the futility of thinking and striving anymore. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward - and since I can start thinking and striving again that much sooner."

Public Forum: Contextualising the William Barak Apartment Building

It would appear that my earlier blog post "Face the Irony" has sparked unexpected interest across Melbourne (in particular) with my perspective of the new ARM "portrait building". My naivety of the apolitical environment of architecture in Australia is intriguing even for myself!

There has been mixed feedback to both the building (as architecture) and my blog post (as an Aboriginal voice), with discussion arising in places I would never have thought imaginable. Friends from uni asking questions, family interested and commenting, colleagues sharing their views. And of course the rounds on social media - twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn. Emails, inboxes, messages from Melbourne, wider Australia and internationally, from both black and white readers, some from archi/design background, some not. Some in favour of the building, some not.

The level of passion and honesty in the discussion has amazed me. At a recent catch-up dinner with some of my tiddas, a good friend commandeered me (lack of a better word) upon my arrival - to try to tease out what her thoughts were of the portrait building. As an Aboriginal woman she was unsettled, unsure, undecided. Some of her family were at the same mission as William Barak, and were involved in the 1881 Parliamentary Inquiry into the treatment of Aboriginal people at Coranderrk, the inquiry which was instigated under the leadership of Barak.

We shared thoughts, open-ended questions. We also shared silence, time and space as we reflected on our histories, our families, our stories.

Whichever form of critique/reflection/discussion is utilised - I am excited that so many people are starting to think critically and engage with the discussion about Aboriginality and architecture - whether it is about this particular building, or any other project in the built environment.

The Koorie Heritage Trust will be presenting a public forum to more broadly raise the discussion about the use of Aboriginal representation in design. It will be hosted in partnerships with Lyons Architecture and Indigenous Architecture & Design Victoria (IADV). A formal flyer for the event will be available this week and I'll post a copy up as soon as it is published.

The panel will consist of Carey Lyon (Lyons Architecture), Jefa Greenaway (IADV), a Wurundjeri elder (tbc) and myself. Howard Raggatt (ARM) initially accepted a role as a panel member, but unfortunately he has since withdrawn. Hopefully there will still be representation from ARM, as it is an important perspective to be included in the forum.  The panel will be chaired by ABC Radio National.

For anybody interested in attending, the details are:

Public Forum:
Contextualising the William Barak Apartment Building
Indigenous Representation in Design and Architecture
Deakin Edge, Federation Square, Melbourne
Tuesday 24th March 2015
6.15 - 7.45pm

See the Federation Square event page here.

I hope to see/meet some of you there!


/////////////////////////////////////////////// UPDATE ON 20th MARCH 2015 ///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////


Howard Raggatt is back on board! Excellent news in terms of a more balanced discussion.

The Chair has been confirmed as Andrew Mackenzie, former editor of Architectural Review Australia, and author of ARM's monograph (not yet released)

If you're on facebook, you can join the event page
 

Black Feminism & the Archi-Sphere

In the wake of International Women's Day 2015, Black Feminism has (appropriately and fiercely) infiltrated the broader discussion of women's issues in Australia. At the NSW Greens IWD Breakfast, Amy McQuire, a Darumbul woman, raised questions about the privileges of white feminists in her speech: All Feminists Are Created Equal, But Some Are More Equal Than Others. << Take the time to read it.

With reference to previous black critiques of white-feminism, Amy highlights the discontent among Aboriginal feminists:

"Our voices are continually derided, placed to the sidelines, lost in the chorus of mainstream feminism, who perhaps unintentionally, do not realise that the fights for gender equality have always been within white structures, and have alienated many Aboriginal women, who are often fighting alongside Aboriginal men against the oppressive colonial settler state"

Reading through Amy's speech, I questioned my own avoidance of discussing gender in my first blog post: A Determination of One's Own. In appropriating the work of a primary white-feminist text (Virginia Woolf), I noted that I wouldn't know where to begin when approaching the topics of Aboriginality and architecture AND women.

Well, this is me attempting to find a "beginning" to the discussion of women/blackness/architecture. Don’t expect a defiant resolution.

Recently my uncertainty/discontent was prompted by the announcement of shortlisted applicants for Creative Directors for the Australian Pavilion at the 2016 Venice Architecture Biennale. Held every two years, the Venice Biennale is a contemporary art exhibition held in Italy. Countries from across the world contribute art for exhibition -  it's kind of a big deal. The Architecture Biennale is a sub-set, and many of the participating nations have contributed a pavilion designed by a "big-name architect" (Wikipedia). Within the archi-Biennale, academic and design work from the built environment in Australia will be exhibited - and the 2016 Creative Directors shortlist was announced in February.

Two of the five shortlisted applicants were all-female collaborations: Parlour LIVE! (Justine Clark, Naomi Stead, Karen Burns, Maryam Gusheh, Catherine Griffiths, Fiona Young) and The Pool (Isabelle Toland, Amelia Holliday, Michelle Tabet). My first thought: it’s great to see female representation in the shortlist! My second thought: but when will we see an all Aboriginal team in the list? And beyond Creative Directors, when will we see an Aboriginal architect, man/woman/other, designing the Australian pavilion?

It highlighted for me that although the under-representation of women in the architecture profession is a reality  – there is such low representation of Aboriginal people (of any gender) in architecture that the concerning issues are not even forming an agenda within the profession – not for practice, not for education/academia, not for critique and not for the Institute.

After seeing the shortlist for Creative Directors, I had a flick through Parlour’s website. For any non-Aus/archi readers, Parlour "brings together research, informed opinion and resources on women, equity and architecture in Australia" (as noted on their website). So, naturally, I clicked through their site to see if there was anything inclusive of Aboriginal women in the archi-sphere. Using the word search bar, the website offered two pages containing “Indigenous”, neither of which included substantial engagement with issues faced by Aboriginal women. I wondered if Parlour’s representation is mostly targeting white, middle-class women? I am not overly concerned by this – it is merely a question/observation.

Reading back through Amy's speech, I wondered if my lack of concern is due to the role that white women have played in the oppression of Aboriginal people in and through the archi-sphere.

In Amy’s words:

"This is why I consider myself an Aboriginal feminist. The fights of black women are still fundamentally different from the fights of white women. I don’t care if Prime Minister Julia Gillard gets up in Parliament and calls out Tony Abbott for misogyny. This same Prime Minister – Julia Gillard - continued the NT intervention, which severely hurt Aboriginal women, and did nothing about the rising tide of Aboriginal child removals, while Labor continued to ride on the kudos of an apology that came too late and delivered too little."

I share the same sentiment regarding the role that white women in architecture have played in the assimilation of Aboriginal people, whether it be through housing or institutions, or through the oppression of Aboriginal people via the outright ignorance and dismissal of Indigenous issues being faced as a result of designed and built environments.

And here I reach my unconclusion: at this stage in my life and learning, I am stronger and more proud as a black woman as I stand by the side of other Aboriginal people in the archi-sphere, regardless of gender, than I am if I stand by other women or men who are ignorant to the issues faced by Aboriginal people on our own lands. And in the path of such ignorance and arrogance, my challenge, at least for now: to remain a proud black woman while skirting around the colonial, patriarchal, privileged structures of architecture in Australia.

I Heart Social Privilege

Student activism + architecture = ?

This blog post is a not-so-FAQ to the #BoycottBowerStudio student awareness campaign launched on Friday 27th February, 2015 at the Melbourne School of Design (MSD). 

What is #BoycottBowerStudio all about?

•  an awareness action aimed at Master of Architecture students in the 24 hours prior to balloting for a Design Studio for Semester 1, 2015. Flyers were handed out to M.Arch students prior to the MSD studio presentations. The campaign team consisted of a small group of architecture students from MSD and Aboriginal students from the University of Melbourne.
   
• the purpose: 1. to enliven the social conscience of students in recognising that their studio selections have a social impact in the real world 2. to empower students to utilise their ballot choices as an avenue for sending a clear message to the MSD that students do not support poor practice in design and architecture education.

What is Bower Studio (BS)?

• a subject delivered by the Melbourne School of Design, University of Melbourne, Australia.
   

• 1 of 34 design studios offered to Masters students, the BS enables students to contribute to an intrusive intervention in a remote Aboriginal community, to disrespect local protocol and exercise social privilege.

What's wrong with MSD condoning this BS?

• field trip practice associated with BS disregards legal responsibilities in relation to work safety, working with children, and "dry zones" (no alcohol allowed) implemented as a result of the Northern Territory Emergency Response. The "intervention" is a direct action set in place by the Commonwealth Government of Australia. Read more about the NT intervention here.
   
• course content of BS perpetuates the notion that a white do-gooder designer can "fix" Aboriginal communities through design and architecture.
   
• field trip practice associated with BS disregards best-practice community consultation and engagement including no cultural awareness of staff or students, and a "walk-in-and-do-whatever-the-fuck-you-want-then-leave" mentality.
   
• course content and field trip practice of BS disregards prior research and guidelines regarding construction in Aboriginal communities. Read about best-practice here. 

What are some specific example of poor practice?

Straight from a Closing the Gap Clearinghouse report (Paul Pholeros, Peter Phibbs) the following lists "what doesn't work" when constructing in Aboriginal communities:

• A one-size-fits-all approach that doesn’t allow for particular local cultural, social and environmental circumstances.
  BS has built the same structure in multiple communities over 1500 km's apart, separated by several Aboriginal nations, with completely different cultural, social and environmental circumstances.
   
• Short-term or piecemeal interventions that are not implemented for long enough to make a significant impact.
  In 2014, BS spent a total of 8 days in the selected remote community, each day arriving around 9am and leaving around 4pm. Across the years, BS has selected different remote communities to work in, across different Aboriginal nations, yet teaching and field practice remains the same - ignorant and paternalistic.
   
• Fixed, short-term deadlines for any construction program.
  In 2014, BS allocated an 8 day deadline. This meant that there was not enough time to form meaningful relationships with any members of the community, jeopardising the need for genuine community consultation and engagement.
   
• Interventions that are adopted without collaborating with Indigenous communities to provide a real opportunity for them to let their views be known.
  As noted above, in 2014 the BS shade-structure to be constructed had been designed for a completely different community over 1500kms away. Due to poor-practice time constraints, there was no opportunity for building meaningful relationships with community members, and as a result, no real opportunity for the community to let their views be known.

Why is BS condoned, awarded, funded by the University & external stakeholders?

• Good question! Speculation: a concoction of ignorance, arrogance, and middle-class white privilege. A dash of "reconciliation". Some mis-directed will, and some unhelpful "check-the-box" approaches to education and community engagement.
   
• It's truly amazing how deceiving/rewarding an out-of-context photograph with some black people in it can be.

Have these concerns about BS teaching and practices been raised within the University or MSD?

• Yes! The above concerns have been raised on several occasions in multiple University executive structures in 2014 and 2015 including: the Dean & Faculty Executive, the University's Indigenous Education Unit and the Deputy Vice Chancellor (Engagement).
   
• As the BS has been offered again in Semester 1, 2015, it would seem that the University and MSD have not considered these concerns serious or urgent enough to take immediate and necessary action.

Was #BoycottBowerStudio successful?

• It is too soon to tell. Initial responses from students were varied. Some students engaged with those of us handing out flyers, having a conversation and asking questions. Some students put up a wall and looked the other way.
   
• It would be useful to find out statistics from the MSD ballot system to see if this year's student preferences showed any particular trends away from BS.

What next..?

An honest answer: I don't know! It's up to the University and MSD to align itself with best practice. For the supposed #1 university in Australia, which prides itself in excellent this and excellent that, they sure are not excellent in their response to Aboriginal Australia.

It would appear that MSD is more concerned/distracted by its new faculty building declaring white privilege, than the impact that its teaching and research has on communities in the real world outside of the University campus.

Architecture for Assimilation

What role does housing play in the assimilation of Aboriginal people?

SBS News broke a story last week exposing a racially offensive pamphlet circulated by a South Australian housing organisation, Shelter SA. The title of the pamphlet: "How will you look after your house whitefella way?"

Targeting Aboriginal households, the pamphlet lists "tips to make sure you don't get kicked out", including: "1. Always pay your rent 2. Look after your yard and garden 3. Put out your rubbish,"  all the way up to "13. Tell your landlord if your toilet gets blocked."

Although I was shocked that this story had been published in mainstream media, the pamphlet in itself did not come as a surprise.

Assimilation via housing and design in the built environment has been standard practice in Australia since the unlawful dispossession of Aboriginal lands in the 1780's. The displacement and control of Indigenous peoples via  missions and institutions enforced assimilation, and for over 200 years these practices have forced Aboriginal people to live "whitefella way" for the benefit of colonial invaders.

This "how to assimilate" pamphlet, and the surrounding commentary on social media, did make me consider the following:

In a contemporary context, what role do designers play in the continual assimilation of Aboriginal people via housing? And what responsibilities do architects hold when designing for Aboriginal communities? 

To be clear: assimilation via housing is not exclusively an architectural design problem.  As for any state under colonial control, institutions play a major role in enabling assimilation practices: governments, universities, the architecture profession. Each of these institutions have policies outlining their responsibilities, either direct or indirect, to Aboriginal peoples. Yet by continually failing to comply with these responsibilities, collaboratively these institutions default to attitudes and practices supporting the assimilation of Aboriginal people via housing.

The culture and teaching practices in architecture education contribute to the lens through which designers and architects view social housing and Indigenous Australia. From my experience, this consists of course content which perpetuates the false perception that the “problem” of housing for Aboriginal people is a design problem that a white do-gooder can "fix", and more broadly, course content that perpetuates stereotypes and misconceptions of Aboriginal peoples, histories and cultures. Architecture education in this country does not take responsibility for the impacts that these teaching practices have on the self-determination of Aboriginal peoples.

In parallel, the Architects Accreditation Council of Australia (AACA)  ticks the box to confirm that universities are delivering quality courses that equip graduates with the skills to continue pursuing architecture as a profession. This results in a combined effort by universities and the AACA to deliver a concerning outcome: How to be an architect...  "whitefella way".

Beyond university education, architecture registration requires that practitioners comply with state-based codes of conduct, each of which include a fundamental obligation for architects to serve the public interest. It would seem that in Australia, a nation founded on the ignorance and exclusion of Indigenous peoples,  that architects have come to interpret  "public interest" as the assimilation of Aboriginal people.

Reflecting on this as an Aboriginal woman, it does prompt me to consider my own role in the archi-sphere, particularly within the institutional frameworks that surround housing for Aboriginal people.  Under constant pressure to assimilate within these structures, it is a constant reminder to resist, to decolonise,  to design, to write, to do whatever it is I choose to do... "blackfella way".

Face the Irony

Let's say, in colonial terms, you are an award-winning, successful architect. You are one of nine white, male directors leading a large design practice. You pride yourself on your iconic buildings - there is no doubt that you have had an impact on the built environment in Australia for almost twenty years.

Now, let's say you have a new project, a high-rise residential building, centrally located in a capital city. A city frequented by around 800, 000 people each day. Melbourne, say. You have approval to build over 100 metres high, 32 stories of expensive, luxurious apartments. You have an opportunity to do anything you want - to assert your relevance in the "urban fabric" of Melbourne, to prove that you are socially conscious, up with the times, maybe even radical, still. You can do "different", you can do "iconic" - as long as it is of value to a developer, say, Grocon.

So how about you make a statement? How about you design an enormous face onto the facade of your building? How about a black man's face? How about the face of William Barak?

Indeed, how about that!

Construction of ARM's "portrait building", as it has become known, is almost complete, with the face due to be unveiled in March, 2015. It is part of a new development precinct, Swanston Square, located on the old Carlton Brewery site in Melbourne's CBD, the land of the Wurundjeri people.

More recently, the location is known as the "wall-collapse site", where passers-by Marie-Faith Fiawoo, Bridget Jones and Alexandar Jones died in 2012 when a large brick wall from Grocon's construction site fell onto a public footpath. It's also adjacent to Sean Godsell's Design Hub which "proved a danger" to the public when two glass discs from the facade system "plunged to the pavement" (cheers, Herald Sun). Maybe the portrait building will follow suit, and Barak's face will come crashing down onto the streets of Melbourne?

Consider, that even without tumbling down, the 300+ squared metre "portrait" of William Barak's face causes damage to this nation as a byproduct of its existence.

In my previous post, Archi-Crime: (in the name of) Reconciliation, I outlined the need to move beyond visual representations of Aboriginal cultures/histories in architecture, the need to focus on Indigenous ways of knowing/doing as primary design principles, and the need to use these principles/values in design beyond Aboriginal user-groups, for both black and white projects.

The portrait building, in contrast, is a building for mainstream occupants, using design principles/values from the colonial/invader mindset, with a visual representation of Aboriginal Australia stuck to the front of the building. 

It would seem that ARM are trying to achieve some kind of ironic relationship between the war memorial on the south of the birrarung, and a black man's face on the north of the river. Their website states that this relationship "stands to unite the city’s modern heritage with its ancient history" - as though Aboriginal people died out long ago, and only traces of our existence still remain. Wake up ARM - we are still here.

Let's face it: the irony in this project is not the juxtaposition of imagery. In itself, this symbol will provoke short-term thought responses from a small portion of the public, it will provide a topic for conversation, some food for critics, and it will add five more minutes to Melbourne's walking tours. It will not create social change.

The true irony of this project is the lack of substance delivered by the misdirected will of an all-white design team. The irony: that this building raises more questions about the relationship between white architects and Aboriginal Australia than it raises about the relationship between white and black Australian history, culture, identity.  

Yes, this portrait, it tells a history. But it does not live the present. It speaks of our people past as though there is no cultural present, no expected future.

The connection to the war memorial does not hold any significance to me as an Aboriginal woman. I do not need to compare a monstrous stone memorial to an enormous face in order to be able to acknowledge the genocide, to remember the thousands of Aboriginal people who were massacred on this land at the hands of colonial invaders. It is lived and remembered every day.

Of greater value in the archi-sphere is design thinking that chooses to implement change beyond what can be visually seen, and beyond colonial values. Step back and consider the value in Aboriginal ways of knowing/doing - both in historical and contemporary Indigenous cultures. Challenge the nuclear household. Design for adaptation. Understand Country. Engage with community. Build sustainably.

Learn from past mistakes: try something other than statement-making. Stop exploiting Aboriginal histories and cultures for designs that are only skin deep. 

Archi-Crime: (in the name of) Reconciliation

The foundation of my architecture education, both design and theory, was bound and smothered by the design principles of the "great" modern architects. I was taught to glorify our saviours of design: Mies, Corb, Wright.

Indoctrinated, I recite the principles of "good design":  Function over form; Less is more; Truth in materials; Ornamentation is a crime. These attitudes infested the curriculum. My eyes were clouded by judgement, and everywhere I looked I was paranoid about committing archi-crime. Was jewellery ornamentation? Was nail polish a crime?

A consequence of my conditioned mentality: my judgement that each instance of "Aboriginal design" in the built environment was a case of archi-crime. As it appeared to me, the use of Aboriginality in contemporary architecture in Australia had predominantly been through the use of visual representations including form-making, ornament and art. All the things I had been taught not to do as a designer.

The particular instances of poor design, mostly in public architecture, seemed to have increased in production during the reconciliation movement of the 1990's and 2000's. A building shaped like a goanna, walls committed to murals, mosaics of creation stories, circle-shaped gardens. Was this an architect's idea of reconciliation?

Yes - visual representations can create identity and connection for Aboriginal users. Yes - arts, craft and storytelling are integral aspects of Aboriginal cultures. Yet simultaneously, their use in building design perpetuated stereotypes of Aboriginal Australia for non-Indigenous audiences. Beyond visual representations, the world's oldest living cultures have immense knowledge and refined systems which can influence and inspire the way that we learn, problem solve, design and live within the built environment. So why were architects making such criminal design decisions?

Some designers were moving beyond these visual representations to create a different kind of "Aboriginal architecture" which responded to design briefs with a more holistic approach, respecting the values of Aboriginal people. Mostly this resulted in a sensitive approach to consultation and engagement, expression through place-making, and a deliberate connection and response to the landscape and environment. Unfortunately (understatement), the identification and use of these particular values did not remain untainted by the reconciliation movement.

Archi-famous Glenn Murcutt capitalised on what he quotes as "an Aboriginal proverb" (!): "touch the earth lightly". For this, among other things, Murcutt was heavily criticised by Kim Dovey (2000) who highlighted white man's "colonial imperative" to exploit Aboriginal culture as "symbolic capital" for the reconciliation machine. Dovey's writing screamed white ignorance and arrogance - even so, I agree with the over-arching observation: white, privileged designers are well equipped to exploit Aboriginal culture in architecture. (Just as white, privileged academics are well equipped to capitalise on white, privileged architects as they exploit Aboriginal culture).   

I digress. While at this time, and since, the archi-sphere has been distracted glorifying the work of Murcutt (and others), it has simultaneously ignored the thousands of Aboriginal families affected by the social housing crisis, living in over-crowded houses, with no running water, no flushing toilets. "Touch the earth lightly" was synonymous with "touch the conscience lightly". As the industry celebrates and awards hand-picked projects that benefit the 1% of the population who are privileged enough to benefit from so-called "good design", First Nations people continue to be out of sight/out of the mind of the architect.  

Beyond the housing and policy struggles that impact the lives of Aboriginal communities every day, let's take a moment to reflect on the disrespect that building development has shown for the land on which it has no right to destroy. Again, with reference to Murcutt (he is just too easy to pick on!), Dovey noted the contention when corporations (eg. BHP) supporting particular built projects (eg. Merika-Alderton house) are simultaneously destroying Aboriginal lands for access to resources - mining, logging. By all means, please, Institute of Architects, award white-privilege and exploitation, and the mindless destruction of Aboriginal lands.

And let us not forget the development companies, the architecture mega-firms, and the corporations, for accepting Indigenous architecture interns/cadets in the name of reconciliation - what an honourable role they play in teaching our young people that the only measure of success is the success of a white man - to design for the 1%, to damage Aboriginal lands, as they appease their conscience by giving a job to a blackfulla, and checking the box in their Reconciliation Action Plan confirming an increase in Indigenous employee numbers. Kudos to them all.

(A note to any young Aboriginal people who have unknowingly become a part of this system: get your experience, build up your skill set, and get out! Do not sacrifice your values as an Aboriginal person to fit in with the values of an award-winning [or any] design practice. Seek out a practice whose values align with yours, or start your own practice)

//Back on track//

As architects were becoming more conscious of their response to the landscape, a broader view of what constitutes "Aboriginal architecture" was expressed by Shaneen Fantin (2003) who noted the differences between tokenistic visual representations of identity as cultural branding, and a more ephemeral and respectful approach, which she refers to as "identity through occupation first, representation later". And what do we see here? A re-phrase of the modernist design principle:  function over form. The archi-gods above would be pleased.

The failure of the existing projects and discussion of "Aboriginal architecture", is the limited, white view that Aboriginal cultures are only relevant for "Aboriginal projects". Depressingly, this is an all too common perception: that reconciliation is an agitator for white people to assist black people to change, to assist black people to act white, to assimilate. That reconciliation is about black people and their problems. I quote Rosalie Kunoth-Monks: "I am not the problem". (Murcutt can add this to his list of Aboriginal proverbs).

The notion that Aboriginal cultures are only relevant to Aboriginal peoples not only perpetuates segregation, it dismisses the value within Aboriginal cultures to influence and better the way that all people learn and think, design and problem solve, live and experience, collaborate and interact. Above this, it dismisses the reality that Aboriginal cultures are relevant to all people on this land as Australia always was, and always will be, Aboriginal land.

A Determination of One's Own

Summer break, back home, laying  up on the sand at North 'Gong, book in hand. Inside the front cover: "Linda Kennedy 07/09". A book I had purchased five years ago and never read: Virginia Woolf - A Room of One's Own.  I wondered how many other unread books I had at Mum's?

By the fourth sentence Woolf was speaking inside of me.  The way she wrote of the multi-layered meanings of women and fiction were the same sentiments I shared for the weighted meanings of Aboriginality and architecture/ Aboriginal architecture/ Aboriginal design. I wouldn't even know where to begin when including the remaining element: women and Aboriginality and architecture.

As Woolf, appropriated by myself, begins:

"When you asked me to speak about [Aboriginal] [architecture] I sat down on the [beach] and began to wonder what the words meant. They might mean simply a few remarks about [Dillon Kombumerri];  a few more about [Jefa Greenaway]; a tribute to the [Lanes] and a sketch of [Merrima Design/NSW Government Architects Office] [in the sun]; some witticisms if possible about [Michael Mossman]; a respectful allusion to [Rueben Berg]; a reference to [Carol Go-Sam] and one would have done. But at second sight the words seemed not so simple. The title [Aboriginal] [architecture] might mean, and you may have meant it to mean, [Aboriginal people] and what they are like; or it might mean [Aboriginal people] and the [architecture] that they [design]; or it might mean [Aboriginal people] and the [architecture] that is [designed] about [their culture]; or it might mean that somehow all three are inextricably mixed together and you want me to consider them in that light."

Of course there are many differences between Woolf and I, as there are between women/fiction and Aboriginal(ity)/architecture. To start, nobody has asked me to speak about Aboriginal(ity)/architecture - the days have passed when a woman may only be asked her opinion.

The thinking that linked me to Woolf was the critical response of deconstructing the questions asked of us as the other, rather that appeasing the listener with niceties and carefully selected examples. Often as the 'other', we burden ourselves with expectation/responsibility, in my world, the expectation that as an Aboriginal person in the archi-sphere, I should be able to reach a conclusion, to identify a solution, to define meaning in a concept such as  "Aboriginal architecture".

I am not interested in the separation of the many present layers: pre-invasion Aboriginal architecture, or Aboriginal identity and architecture, or architecture designed for Aboriginal people, or Aboriginal people designing architecture, or contemporary architecture for Aboriginal users. I am interested in how they are all inextricably mixed together.

As Woolf, appropriated by myself, continues:

"But when I began to consider the subject in this last way, which seemed the most interesting, I soon saw that it had one fatal drawback. I should never be able to come to a conclusion.... ...All I could do was to offer you an opinion upon one minor point - [an] [Aboriginal person] must have [a determination] of [one's] own if [one] is to [study/design/practice architecture]; and that, as you will see, leaves the great problem of the true nature of [Aboriginality] and the true nature of [architecture] unsolved."

This "minor point" of self-determination and its relevance to Aboriginal people and architecture I will surely develop across future blog posts. As a start, I will say that access to public education is fundamental. Beyond that, one must remain determined to push through the white colonial patriarchal system that overwhelms architecture education and architecture practice. One must expect systematic racism and ignorance in institutions and one must be determined to resist them. It is more complex than having money, it is more complex than having a room of one's own.

To follow this "minor point", a note on "the great problem" that attaches itself to any opinion in the greater discussion of Aboriginality and architecture. The problem being that the "true nature" and meaning of the colonial constructs of "Aboriginality" and "architecture" have created rigidity and boundaries within design and the built environment that limit design solutions, that limit design innovation and discussion, and most concerning, that limit the way that we live.

The notion of "Aboriginality" or what it takes for something designed/built to be "Aboriginal" or to have Aboriginal identity is complex and as any other cultural construct, it is diverse, and it is in a state of constant change. The notion of "architecture" and what it means to be "designed" or "built" remain colonial concepts, and beyond that, what it means for a space to be occupied, to be owned, are impositions of the colonial value system.

And so it is - the beginning of my blog - Future Black. Stay tuned to read more of my opinions/questions about "Aboriginal architecture", my passion for decolonising design in the built environment, and my experiences and perceptions as an Aboriginal woman navigating the colonial systems of design and architecture in Australia.

To end this post, I will again quote Woolf, appropriated by myself:

 "At any rate, when a subject is highly controversial - and any subject about [Aboriginality] is that - one cannot hope to tell the truth. One can only show how one came to hold whatever opinion one does hold."