Out of the Box—Modular Dwelling Semi-rural Nelson, NZ

New Zealand architect William Samuels is an idealist. He hates the commodification of housing, the Antipodean obsession with real estate as investment. Yet he’s also a pragmatic thinker. Which is why he decided to explore a different way for him and his fiancée, Hannah D’Arcy, to secure a home of their own.

To be fair, the couple, who met in Melbourne and are both in their 30s, could have pooled resources to take on a mortgage. But that would have been feeding a system they are not enamoured with. “Housing in Aotearoa is often primarily viewed as a wealth generator. Culturally, we need to move away from that,” says William.

Instead, their focus was on crafting “a place for life to happen,” and they were fortunate that William’s parents owned a semi-rural block of land 10 minutes north of Nelson and agreed to share it under a long-term lease agreement. The section, with views down the valley to the sea, sported pohutukawa alongside eucalypts – the perfect dendrological reflection of the couple’s trans-Tasman heritage.

Out-of-the-box thinking is central to this project. Nothing is status quo. Because the dwelling is divorced from the value of the land, the parameters of topography and context became less important than making it relocatable and with a design flexible enough to suit multiple sites.

William, who honed his craft at Kerstin Thompson Architects, began to draw a house that would be expansive enough to wrap around their lifestyle yet petite enough to fit on a trailer. Oh, and another thing … they were going to build it themselves. The defining feature of the result (two connected modules with a 42-square-metre footprint) is the barrel-vaulted roofs, an architectural salvation that transforms the small to the spiritual. “The primary constraint was width. And spaces which are long and narrow can be quite claustrophobic,” explains William. “But with tall, narrow spaces, it can feel like the walls are caving in on you.” In most instances, designers employ height to increase volume. Here, the barrel vault was the solution. It has a gentleness of form that provides both a sense of roominess and of intimacy.

Building the barrel wasn’t easy and ate up a whack of the $150 000 budget. “We had some curved steel portals that were hard to shape,” William says. “In hindsight, we shouldn’t force materials to do what they don’t want to do.” Still, the spatial payback was tenfold. Lined in rimu (a native New Zealand timber) and with large-format windows curving up into the arc, William says being inside the house is like “receiving a hug from the ceiling.”

This warmth makes a nice contrast to the crisp coolness of the Zincalume-wrapped exterior. The two modules stand like a pair of miniaturised Dutch barns in a clearing in the trees. Using a single extruded form meant William and Hannah could build practically the whole thing themselves on weekends over two years. Friends came to help, and they did call in the experts for the electrics and plumbing, and a specialist carpenter for the wall and ceiling linings. This approach was not only a balm for the budget but a way for William to glean a deeper understanding of a craft so closely aligned to his profession. Experimental and experiential, constructing the dwelling has, above all, been educational. “As an architect, I sometimes found I was talking at cross-purposes with builders. This process has taught me how and why things are done,” says William.

While there are certainly details that he would change, the overall planning is pretty much spot on. One module contains the bedroom and living, the other groups the services with a bathroom and kitchen plus a small study area. In between, where the modules connect, is the laundry zone and storage, while above the bathroom, a loft is a great escape for reading and a place the couple often ascend to for breakfast in the morning sun. “It’s how we discovered our cat could climb ladders,” says William. “He loves hanging out up there.” Across the way, on the west elevation, is the kitchen, an inspired example of how much can be achieved in a 2.2-metre-wide space. William and Hannah, who like to cook side by side, bought some cabinetry carcasses from Bunnings then used moisture resistant, black MDF on the cabinet fronts and benchtop. “We cut the pieces using a table saw and sanded them, then a local painter applied a clear finish,” says William. Underfoot, commercial-grade vinyl flooring provides a soft, easy clean platform. Within the compact space, they’ve never felt the need for more than their two-burner cooktop and friends don’t complain as William’s lentil Bolognese or Hannah’s miso-roasted salmon is served on a fold-down trestle table or just on laps, as the dinner party spills from inside to the deck.

This is a house where the true meaning of home can shine. From the immediate, ever-present treescape to the distant seascape, there’s the everyday appreciation of nature. With William’s sister living next door and friends regularly popping round there’s the jewel of community. And there’s the freedom of living within your means; without the burden of an onerous mortgage, and with ongoing costs to heat and maintain the dwelling at a minimum, the focus can turn to maximum creativity. A while back, The Barden Party, a travelling troupe of Shakespearean actors came to perform on the deck. It was a magical, unforgettable experience in the open air, shared with family and friends. It was also a vindication of their path. As the Bard of Avon himself would say: “It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves.”

Some day if the couple has kids, they may choose to add an extra module, or they may choose to move on. One thing’s for sure, the decision will not be dictated by the traditional version of home ownership. Meanwhile, they’re content. It’s not about what’s next, it’s about what’s now.

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