Latest news with #OpenChristchurch
The Spinoff
09-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Spinoff
My weekend snooping around Ōtautahi's most famous buildings
Alex Casey goes on an odyssey through some of the most important buildings in Christchurch. Moving to Ōtautahi in the 2020s is a bit like starting a prestige TV show about five seasons in. The budget is massive, the production values slick and shiny, and the reviews are positive, but you still can't escape the fact that you've missed out on pivotal early character building and some truly enormous plot points. As a result, you're left hurriedly searching up things on Wikipedia at social events, nodding along sagely at mentions of vaguely familiar villains (Gerry Brownlee) and collecting morsels of lore like a magpie wherever you can. Can you really ever understand a place if you missed the most galvanising moments in its recent history? And how do you go about backfilling that knowledge and those experiences? I've learned a lot already through telling stories of creativity and community here, be it the miniature rendering of the pre-quake city or the turtle rescuer still caring for quake refugees. But it was a recent deep dive into the Brutalist Timezone and the new stadium at Te Kaha that opened up another crucial (and screamingly obvious) portal to better understanding Christchurch: the buildings as central characters. With that in mind, last weekend I toddled along to Open Christchurch, an architecture festival where the doors are swung open to some of the city's most significant buildings. Where the phrase 'architecture festival' may have previously left me retreating into one of those deep sleep chambers used by Matt Damon in Interstellar, I'd noticed there was a certain buzz around this festival for the past few years and it always seemed to sell out quickly. This year I managed to nab a powerful itinerary, and here is everything I learned from my snooping. Saturday My day began with a tour of College House in Riccarton, a place I had only ever driven past on the way to the airport and assumed, based on the aggro high white concrete walls, was some sort of boring sludge factory. But as we were welcomed in to stand by the crackling fire in the lounge of the student hall, I realised I could not have been more wrong. Deemed by architect Sir Miles Warren as his greatest creation when it opened in the 1960s, College House is still used as swanky University of Canterbury student accommodation to this day. Architect Alec Bruce, who worked on the post-quake renovations, guided us through the courtyard to the Arthur Sims Library, which gave me a chilling bloodlust to study again (especially with texts on display such as Dan Carter's autobiography and 'Pizzas and Pastas'). Beneath rich warm wood panelling and spiral iron staircases, we gazed up at the centrepiece – an enormous web-like structure of dark beams and light fittings. 'Utterly gratuitous and utterly brilliant,' Bruce mused. 'And totally unexpected from the outside.' Same goes for the College House chapel, which would be the first but not the last time I would hear about Gothic Revival (less spooky vibes, more high pitched roofing). Costing $3m to repair post-quake, the chapel was split into six pieces so the ground floor could be restored. 'This is not the sort of building an engineer would let you design post earthquake,' said Bruce. We ended the tour in the ornate art-filled dining hall, which used to have an original Bill Hammond plonked by the coffee machine until they realised how much it was worth. From College House I zipped into the city for a tour of the Observatory Hotel in the Arts Centre, originally built in 1891 and home to the magical Townsend Teece telescope, one of the city's greatest objects. I'd written about the miraculous survival of the ' munched ' telescope during the quakes, but hadn't had the chance to nosey around its surrounds. The entire observatory tower collapsed in 2011 and was, as guide Shane Horgan told us, meticulously reconstructed with every piece of basalt stone numbered and put back in its original place like a jigsaw puzzle. Inside the building, formerly the University of Canterbury's home of astronomy and physics, the original wooden staircase curled towards the heavens. It was still standing when everything collapsed around it, and was taken offsite and kept under a tarp at Christchurch Boys High. The stairs creaked in welcome as we ascended. 'That's a heritage feature,' laughed Horgan. 'Cost a lot of money, by the way.' After a peek at some of the rooms (very flash, very high ceilings) we ended the tour under the mighty telescope, still pointed skyward as it was over 130 years ago. Back on the ground, I sprinted past punters on the river to Te Ara Pū Hā – yet another place I had no idea existed. Modelled on The High Line in New York, this is a four-block stretch of lush green planting that will one day form a forest corridor along the city's edge. Landscape architect Adrian Taylor and cultural advisor Te Marino Lenihan explained that the design was born out of a close working relationship with Ngai Tahu. 'The collaboration was powerful and should be done more often,' said Lenihan. 'This is the blueprint of true treaty partnership.' That idea of treaty partnership was evident on the tour itself, which opened with Taylor doing his pepeha aloud for the very first time – Lenihan encouraging him to go off the cuff – and the group introducing themselves and where they were from. Along the way, Lenihan explained how the rebuild allowed for Ngāi Tahu to have a greater presence in the city. 'Before the quakes, Christchurch was known as the most English city outside of England,' he said. 'We were invisible as mana whenua, so the opportunity was there to put our fingerprints on the future.' Those fingerprints could be found everywhere from the illuminated pounamu tiles to the angular stone seating inspired by purupuru. Wandering down four city blocks, we learned about the dozens of species of native plants on show, including edibles for foraging like pūha and horopito, as well as soon-to-be giants like kahikatea and harakeke. The tour ended with everyone cheersing with a 'mauri ora' before sampling a thimble of Taylor's own artisanal gin, infused with native botanicals from the very same walkway we had just strolled down. As a non-drinker, I rode a light botanical buzz all the way to the Town Hall, chatting with a former architecture lecturer named Jonathan who had travelled from Napier for the festival. He showed me some of the sketches he had been doing around the city, and frequently stopped on the walk to point out how timber framing fire resistance works, or how the gold exterior of Tūranga looks like curtain being drawn open, or the provenance of the word 'keystone' as it relates to the arch on the Heritage hotel. My head was spinning, and not just from the 5ml of horopito gin. We made it inside the Douglas Lillburn Auditorium, renowned for having some of the very best acoustics in the world. I walked onto the very same stage as the Vengaboys and clapped my hands. The sound reverberated powerfully around the entire hall, and I had to resist doing three more claps to the tune of 'Shalala Lala' in tribute to the Eurodance legends. I took a seat in the back row of the hall, exhausted, and watched a little kid in an All Blacks cap take the stage and belt a wobbly bit of the national anthem. Moved to tears, I knew it was time to go home. Sunday The day began with me racing through the labyrinth of fencing in the square to make it inside the Christ Church Cathedral for the 10am tour. Donning hard hats and fluro pink vests, a group of 50 of us were given a brief introduction outside by Carolyne Grant, director of the rebuild project team. 'This is the literal and figurative heart of the city,' she said. 'It took 40 years to build the first time, we hope it is not that long this time.' Widely reported as being 'mothballed' late last year due to a lack of funds, Grant rejected the use of that term. 'It's not mothballed yet: it's paused. And we will need to find a new way forward,' she said. With a heartfelt warning that re-entering the cathedral can feel overwhelming, we quietly stepped inside. One woman instinctively put her hand over her heart as she looked around at the exposed wooden skeleton. Another muttered 'oh, it's so sad' to nobody in particular. People shared stories of the last time they had been inside, including a man who had climbed the steeple a few weeks before the quake, and a woman who had visited the flower show with her Nana just days before. A topiary elephant stood amongst the ruins for weeks, apparently. I admired a large yellow Beyonce-style fan, positioned close to where the altar might have originally been. It constantly secretes a bubblegum-smelling vapour that keeps the pigeons away – the same who famously dropped two tonnes of poo over their decade of squatting. Grant also acknowledged the dozens of stray cats and kittens who lived in the derelict cathedral over the years, and assured us all that they had all been safely rehomed. Now, her attention is focussed on the future: 'we could lose the cathedral if we don't care for it,' she warned. It was very difficult not to be stirred by the sheer scale, emotion and ambition of the cathedral restoration project, already $85 million deep and only one third of the way complete when it was put on ice. Should Christchurch cling on to salvaging the first cathedral ever built in this country? Or cut our losses, let the pigeons back in, and call it an overpriced aviary? I didn't know the answer and I didn't really have time to mull it over – across the square the mayor and Dame Adrienne Stewart were about to cut the ribbon on the brand new Court Theatre. With dust from the cathedral still on my boots, I joined a heaving crowd of radio hosts, Court Jesters and Mark Hadlow, all chomping at the bit to get into the new theatre. 'There is no place like home, so welcome to our new home,' said Dame Stewart. We poured inside, marvelling at all the exposed light wood and rusted exterior, a nod to the temporary location – The Shed – where the Court has operated for over a decade. Kids were doing improv in the rehearsal space, we got to poke around the props (fake eggs! fake pizza!) and look at the costume workroom. 'People make costumes here for their job,' explained one mum to her daughter, whose jaw was on the floor at all the wigs and shiny fabrics. 'You could go to uni and study that.' From the brand new home of theatre to a temporary home of worship, I trotted my dusty boots through Latimer Square to the Transitional 'cardboard' Cathedral. Designed by Japanese architect Shigeru Ban and opened in 2013 for just $7 million dollars, there really was quite a lot of cardboard happening everywhere. As I stared up at the 96 cardboard tubes, each weighing 500 kg, that lined the A-Frame building, guide Richard Parker told me that Ban kindly donated the design pro-bono to the city. 'He's an All Blacks supporter, which helps,' he smiled. The very last stop on my tour was Chateau on the Park, a really buzzy hotel designed by Peter Beavan in the 1970s in time for the Commonwealth Games. Tucked away in the bush off Deans Ave – 'you can still walk to Ricky mall from here, but you really feel like you are somewhere else' said guide Ann McEwan – even my half-shut eyes could recognise the high pitched roof as Gothic Revival. There was also a fish-filled moat (?) and two enormous suspended functional cauldrons (?). 'Two of the most bizarre things you will ever find in Christchurch,' McKewan said. As a smiling robot vacuum cleaner parted our tour group like the red sea, I felt like I was finally transcending all sense of time and space. In just 48 hours I had been inside late 1800s Gothic Revival relics, 1960s university halls, 2010s post-quake disaster architecture and a brand new 2020s theatre only a few hours old. I had also seen the future in a newly-planted greenway, the lush results of which none of us will even be around to see. I had sipped botanical gin, picked pūha, clapped on a stage, and learned a lot more about this place than a Wikipedia page could ever offer.
Scoop
02-05-2025
- General
- Scoop
Ara Students Design Kids' Activities For Open Christchurch
Press Release – Ara Institute of Canterbury Ltd The Monster Architecture Treasure Hunt and Colour Me Mountfort colouring-in pages have been created to encourage children to learn more about many of the central city buildings featured in the 2025 festival programme. Ara Institute of Canterbury Bachelor of Design (Visual Communication Design) students are looking forward to seeing their latest projects put through their paces at the Open Christchurch Festival this weekend. The Monster Architecture Treasure Hunt and Colour Me Mountfort colouring-in pages have been created to encourage children to learn more about many of the central city buildings featured in the 2025 festival programme. Those who join the monster trail will be rewarded with colourful stickers for each of the buildings they visit. It's been a monster learning curve navigating the real-life design project, but the Ara team is proud of the final product. 'It's been great to be part of,' said student Tyson Haglund. 'It's the biggest thing we've seen through from start to finish and now it's awesome to look back and think 'we did that''. With more than 50 open buildings, guided walks and special activities, the Open Christchurch celebration of architecture event is a key fixture on Ōtautahi's calendar. This year, Ara students have made their mark on the weekend event thanks to the connections of their tutor, senior academic staff member Carl Pavletich. 'I was on the building selection panel for this year's event and Open Christchurch were keen for students to get involved. This has been an excellent way for them to complete a professional practice project,' Pavletich said. Sam Weavers, one of the students behind the colouring pages design, said they were quick to volunteer. 'Once we had the Open Christchurch brief, we started brainstorming and pitched our ideas in design meetings before preparing drafts to be approved. We had one-one-one meetings which were really valuable as we worked on the final edits and ended up with the finished product,' Weavers said. Haglund said the project was truly collaborative with creative freedom for the students matched with a clearly expressed brief from the team at Open Christchurch. 'We both got what we wanted out of the design process without restrictions, which was really helpful. It's been so satisfying to experience the client reaction. They were super stoked, and it was a good feeling to have delivered on the project for them.' Classmate Paulina Harrison said the project had presented real-life challenges. 'It was a big reality check needing to be on top of your communication and not wanting to let anyone down on the job. We needed to have time management, perseverance, patience and professionalism to complete the work,' she said. Phoebe Dutton said teamwork skills also came to the fore as they met the deadline. 'It was hard because it was the end of term, so we had class projects and final assignments due as well as getting the project done. It was a juggle, but it worked out so well,' she said. Many of the team plan to be out on the monster trail seeing their work in action this weekend. 'We've spent so long working on these files we're looking forward to seeing people actually holding it in their hands,' Haglund said.
Scoop
02-05-2025
- General
- Scoop
Ara Students Design Kids' Activities For Open Christchurch
Ara Institute of Canterbury Bachelor of Design (Visual Communication Design) students are looking forward to seeing their latest projects put through their paces at the Open Christchurch Festival this weekend. The Monster Architecture Treasure Hunt and Colour Me Mountfort colouring-in pages have been created to encourage children to learn more about many of the central city buildings featured in the 2025 festival programme. Those who join the monster trail will be rewarded with colourful stickers for each of the buildings they visit. It's been a monster learning curve navigating the real-life design project, but the Ara team is proud of the final product. "It's been great to be part of," said student Tyson Haglund. "It's the biggest thing we've seen through from start to finish and now it's awesome to look back and think 'we did that'". With more than 50 open buildings, guided walks and special activities, the Open Christchurch celebration of architecture event is a key fixture on Ōtautahi's calendar. This year, Ara students have made their mark on the weekend event thanks to the connections of their tutor, senior academic staff member Carl Pavletich. "I was on the building selection panel for this year's event and Open Christchurch were keen for students to get involved. This has been an excellent way for them to complete a professional practice project," Pavletich said. Sam Weavers, one of the students behind the colouring pages design, said they were quick to volunteer. "Once we had the Open Christchurch brief, we started brainstorming and pitched our ideas in design meetings before preparing drafts to be approved. We had one-one-one meetings which were really valuable as we worked on the final edits and ended up with the finished product," Weavers said. Haglund said the project was truly collaborative with creative freedom for the students matched with a clearly expressed brief from the team at Open Christchurch. "We both got what we wanted out of the design process without restrictions, which was really helpful. It's been so satisfying to experience the client reaction. They were super stoked, and it was a good feeling to have delivered on the project for them." Classmate Paulina Harrison said the project had presented real-life challenges. "It was a big reality check needing to be on top of your communication and not wanting to let anyone down on the job. We needed to have time management, perseverance, patience and professionalism to complete the work," she said. Phoebe Dutton said teamwork skills also came to the fore as they met the deadline. "It was hard because it was the end of term, so we had class projects and final assignments due as well as getting the project done. It was a juggle, but it worked out so well," she said. Many of the team plan to be out on the monster trail seeing their work in action this weekend. "We've spent so long working on these files we're looking forward to seeing people actually holding it in their hands," Haglund said.
The Spinoff
29-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Spinoff
How this playground became ‘the jewel in the crown' of Ōtautahi
Alex Casey tells the origin story of Tākaro ā Poi, the Margaret Mahy Family Playground. It's a crisp Tuesday morning in central Ōtautahi and about 100 people of all ages are crawling all over Tākaro ā Poi, the Margaret Mahy Family Playground. A little boy in a 'Team Spidey' T-shirt channels his hero as he clings to lobster-shaped climbing holds for dear life. A gaggle of excited cruise ship tourists snap pictures of the giant orange petal-shaped sunshades, while a bashful dad ends his flying fox journey at a glacial pace, perfectly soundtracked by a high school cheer squad practicing on a patch of grass nearby. The $20 million post-quake playground will be turning a decade old later this year, with celebrations kicking off with a tour at the Open Christchurch architecture festival this weekend. Boasting a four metre wide slide and a 10 metre high climbing tower, the playground's sprawling one hectare city block site makes it the largest in the Southern Hemisphere. 'It's really the jewel in the crown,' says Matthew Tidball, one of the landscape architects, as we look out over a rubber mat rendering of the Canterbury Plains. 'It brought laughter back into the city at a really hard time.' Even 10 years on, the playground still elicits tremendous excitement in local kids. 'I like the spider nets that you can climb on, and the trampolines, and the giant metal slide that goes 'WOOSH',' said one breathless seven-year-old. Other kids praised the 'twirly slide', 'the big hill' and the 'spinning thing', and even grown-up kids admitted to having a hoon. 'After a night in town there is no better way to wind down than doing a very slow climb up the ropes to the top of the big slide,' said one fan in their 30s. 'You also get a lovely view of the twinkly cityscape.' Catherine Hamilton was the lead designer of Tākaro ā Poi, and says the project arrived at both a pivotal time for the city, and a transitional phase for playground design in Aotearoa. 'Our playgrounds had become very modular, stock standard off-the-shelf stuff,' she explains. 'All the potential risks had been designed out of them.' But in the 2010s, she says the thinking and legislation around play was starting to shift from risk aversion to risk management. 'That opened up a whole lot of opportunities for doing things that were a lot more exciting and challenging.' Early on in the design process it was established that the playground would contain character zones based on the Canterbury landscape, from the giant artificial mound that represents the Port Hills, to a sand play area that represents the coast. 'It was about how the park itself weaves back into the fabric of the city,' she says. 'From the very beginning, we also thought about these land forms and gradients in relation to universal play, which means that people who are able-bodied and people who have disabilities can all enjoy the space together.' The thrills and spills – officially called 'managed risk' – came in elements such as the bouncy rubber matting to cushion falls, and an imposing 10 metre tall climbing system. While it appears daunting from the ground, Hamilton assures that it was very carefully and safely designed. 'It means that kids can challenge themselves and get to that impressive height to conquer their fears, but they can never fall more than a metre before they're caught by the rope system,' she explains. 'If anything, I actually think we could have gone higher.' Of course, another essential inspiration for the playground is its namesake, beloved Cantabrian children's author Margaret Mahy. After a community competition to design Christchurch's dream playground, Selwyn House School won with their vision for the 'Margaret Mahy Amazing Playground' – the original plans of which included a real meadow and real lions. 'What we did from there was to draw inspiration from Margaret Mahy and her way of seeing the world,' says Hamilton. 'We watched a lot of her interviews about the power of imagination in particular.' Hamilton was struck by one interview where Mahy explained why she never described a certain character's face, because she wanted to leave space for imagination in the reader. 'With that inspiration, we developed the idea for the 130 metre long story arc through the middle of the park.' Inscribed with some of Mahy's beloved stories including 'The Man Whose Mother Was A Pirate', the arc also includes words from Christchurch author Elsie Lock, who formerly had a park on the site in her honour, as well as the symbols and stories of local iwi Ngāi Tahu rendered by Priscilla Cowie. There's a particular part of the story arc which Te Marino Linehan (Ngāi Tahu whānui) says is his very favourite. Having worked as the principal hapu advocate on Tākaro ā Poi as a part of the wider Ōtākaro River revitalisation project, his role was to identify the cultural narratives of the site, and facilitate local Māori artists to express those stories. The story arc features words from 'Terea te waka', a ngeri composed by Charisma Rangipunga and Paulette Tamati-Elliffe that tells the story of the voyage of the Uruao waka to Te Waipounamu. 'This ngeri came for us in an era where our tribe was really finding its space in the revitalisation of te reo Māori,' says Linehan. 'It also became a metaphor for where we were in the rebuild of the city – we were arriving again for the first time within the design landscape, so it felt like a really good and natural expression in that space.' He also worked with local artist Priscilla Cowie on the symbols in the arc, and the senior weavers who designed Whāriki: Te Rau Aroha ki te Tangata, the paved artwork at the entrance that represents the importance of childhood and play. The final piece of the playground puzzle came in the planting, and one of the lead landscape architects Matthew Tidball remembers his brief to this day: weird and wonderful. 'There's lots of native plants but then you've got things like Muehlenbeckia, which has got this weird, funky, hexagonal form to it,' he says, pointing out a nearby bush. 'It's a shape children might know or have learned at school, but it's kind of cool to see it in a big specimen like this. I'm most proud of just getting that education and understanding out there for children.' As we wander around the wetland area, he points out reeds and cabbage trees that have stood strong for 10 years, and others that haven't weathered so well. 'It's such a hectic environment,' he shrugs. In the middle of the site, a couple of large cherry trees stand tall – they were originally planted there for Elsie Lock, relocated after the quakes, and reinstated in 2015. 'As with many places in the city there's been opportunities to start fresh, but sometimes that can erase the history that came before,' he says. 'This is quite a cool element from the past to hold onto.' It is that acknowledgement of the past, be it pre-quake or pre-colonial, and the collaboration between tangata whenua and tangata tiriti, that Linehan says makes the Tākaro ā Poi playground an extra special feature of Ōtautahi. 'We now have a valuable and valued asset to the city that reflects a process based on honouring Te Tiriti o Waitangi, doing it together, respecting each other's heritage, and wrapping that all into something for families,' he says. 'For me, this park reflects a new wave of thinking around what's important and where we focus our attention first. 'Cities shouldn't be built around buildings and enterprises, but built around people.'
