Refocus

Imagine the ideas that might be fermenting if you had recently returned from overseas after a six-month sabbatical and a highly successful restoration already under your belt. Architects Liz Walsh and Alex Nielsen sought a second project that would let them test ideas, keep busy for half a year and exemplify the concepts of small, cleverly-designed spaces in New York and Japan.

The one-room apartment they found is on the third and top floor of a block built in 1973. While small and originally uninspiring internally, it has a cracker view of the River Derwent. This pocket of Sandy Bay has tiny gardens, but is a short walk from a wide, green esplanade. Even better, the apartment’s aspect had been widened by the removal below of a neighbour’s shed. In winter, a nearby maple sheds its leaves to allow in light and warmth; as a bonus, expansive views to the south, down the river, are revealed.

However, aspects of the planning didn’t go as expected. The six months dragged on to 10 and a baby happened, which meant the pair couldn’t live there as originally intended. The final outcome though is an incredibly detailed and beautifully jointed space, which bears no resemblance to the plain boxiness of the original apartment. Its name, #TheBaeTAS, refers to its Bay location, its freshness and its ties with their inner-city and award-winning project, #theBarnTAS (see green magazine issue 47).

The floor dimension is only 26.5-square-metres, but the variation in ceiling height, strategic insertion of Velux skylights and concealment of the bathroom behind another matching panel tricks the eye into thinking it is a much bigger space. Liz explains it is “an experiment in volume [and] we wanted to explore how small a comfortable, liveable space can be, in the short-term.” The datum point for all of the geometry and detailing is 2100 millimetres. The ceiling planes pitch up, from the top line of the windows, to create internal volume and hidden storage spaces. The experience upon entering is much like walking into a small chapel, where the increasing richness of the internal details forces the eyes upwards.

A limited material palette is vital to make a hero of the detailing: birch ply for all wall panels, oxblood-coloured highgloss bathroom tiles and Cemintel Barestone on the kitchen surfaces. To further control noise, glare and temperature, the newly installed double glazing (within the existing timber window frames) is screened by an opulent gold curtain on one side of the door, and a gold blind on the other (beside the bed). Only a narrow band of the original, small, brown/green entry tiles remains, as an indication of the apartment’s provenance.

Another aim was to play down the domestic functions normally overt in a tiny bed-sit without internal walls. The kitchen and bathroom “functions” are reoriented to the western wall, to create a wider “bedroom” space. The timber dowel handle for the proprietary (but carefully re-detailed) pull-down bed is eventually evident in the panelling, as is the space on the floor on which it rests. Liz notes that they worked with a superb carpenter and joiner, Andrew Otto. While walking around the bare unit with his laser level, and viewing the internal elevation drawings, he realised how cleverly the joints line up around the space: the geometry within is incredibly complex.

The bathroom is a little more difficult to find at first, but with careful consideration of the depth of the spaces, the hidden room can be determined. In addition to proprietary light fittings, the bathroom is lit by a narrow cut of skylight over the shower head, to encourage what Alex calls “bathing in light”. The only respite from the rich redness of the tiles is a hand-thrown hand-basin by local ceramicist Lindsey Wherrett. When the brass-edged door is fully closed, the effect inside is much like a cool, glistening, water-side cave.

Rather than working on separate components of the design and build, “the design and concept work was done together … we would take time to think about the approach, drawing, sketching and modelling (CAD),” says Liz, “and then we would come together and decide which approach worked best and evolve it from there.”

Lighting is absolutely minimal, and beautiful. For example, Bernard Schottlander’s 1951 Mantis Lamp hovers over a daybed (designed by Liz and Alex), and can be swung around to light a small round table (by local furniture designer/maker Matt Prince). Ralph Stools (by Heimur), of Australian messmate and rattan, slide discreetly under Matt’s table.

In Liz and Alex’s skilful hands, #TheBaeTAS is imbued with a depth of concern for comfort, quality and connection with community. Other residents are delighted by its addition, including long-term tenant Jim, who waves at Liz and Alex with his walking stick as they pass.