The Canterbury earthquake sequence of 2010-2011 wrought ruptures in not only the physical landscape of Canterbury and Christchurch’s material form, but also in its social, economic, and political fabrics and the lives of Christchurch inhabitants. In the years that followed, the widespread demolition of the CBD that followed the earthquakes produced a bleak landscape of grey rubble punctuated by damaged, abandoned buildings. It was into this post-earthquake landscape that Gap Filler and other ‘transitional’ organisations inserted playful, creative, experimental projects to bring life and energy back into the CBD. This thesis examines those interventions and the development of the ‘Transitional Movement’ between July 2013 and June 2015 via the methods of walking interviews and participant observation. This critical period in Christchurch’s recovery serves as an example of what happens when do-it-yourself (DIY) urbanism is done at scale across the CBD and what urban experimentation can offer city-making. Through an understanding of space as produced, informed by Lefebvre’s thinking, I explore how these creative urban interventions manifested a different temporality to orthodox planning and demonstrate how the ‘soft’ politics of these interventions contain the potential for gentrification and also a more radical politics of the city, by creating an opening space for difference.
A city’s planted trees, the great majority of which are in private gardens, play a fundamental role in shaping a city’s wild ecology, ecosystem functioning, and ecosystem services. However, studying tree diversity across a city’s many thousands of separate private gardens is logistically challenging. After the disastrous 2010–2011 earthquakes in Christchurch, New Zealand, over 7,000 homes were abandoned and a botanical survey of these gardens was contracted by the Government’s Canterbury Earthquake Recovery Authority (CERA) prior to buildings being demolished. This unprecedented access to private gardens across the 443.9 hectares ‘Residential Red Zone’ area of eastern Christchurch is a unique opportunity to explore the composition of trees in private gardens across a large area of a New Zealand city. We analysed these survey data to describe the effects of housing age, socio-economics, human population density, and general soil quality, on tree abundance, species richness, and the proportion of indigenous and exotic species. We found that while most of the tree species were exotic, about half of the individual trees were local native species. There is an increasing realisation of the native tree species values among Christchurch citizens and gardens in more recent areas of housing had a higher proportion of smaller/younger native trees. However, the same sites had proportionately more exotic trees, by species and individuals, amongst their larger planted trees than older areas of housing. The majority of the species, and individuals, of the larger (≥10 cm DBH) trees planted in gardens still tend to be exotic species. In newer suburbs, gardens in wealthy areas had more native trees than gardens from poorer areas, while in older suburbs, poorer areas had more native big trees than wealthy areas. In combination, these describe, in detail unparalleled for at least in New Zealand, how the tree infrastructure of the city varies in space and time. This lays the groundwork for better understanding of how wildlife distribution and abundance, wild plant regeneration, and ecosystem services, are affected by the city’s trees.
While societal messages can encourage an unhealthy strive for perfection, the notion of embracing individual flaws and openly displaying vulnerabilities can appear foreign and outlandish. However, when fallibility is acknowledged and imperfection embraced, intimate relationships built on foundations of acceptance, trust and understanding can be established. In an architectural context, similar deep-rooted connections can be formed between a people and a place through the retention of layers of historical identity. When a building is allowed to age with blemishes laid bare for all to see, an architectural work can exhibit a sense of 'humanising vulnerability' where the bruises and scars it bears are able to visually communicate its contextual narrative. This thesis explores the notion of designing to capitalise on past decay through revitalisation of the former Wood Brothers Flour Mill in Addington, Christchurch (1891). Known as one of the city's last great industrial buildings, the 130-year-old structure remains hugely impressive due to its sheer size and scale despite being abandoned and subject to vandalism for a number of years. Its condition of obsolescence ensured the retention of visible signs of wear and tear in addition to the extensive damage caused by the 2010-12 Canterbury earthquakes. In offering a challenge to renovation and reconstruction as a means of conservation, this thesis asks if 'doing less' has the potential to 'do more'. How can an understanding of architecture as an ongoing process inform a design approach to celebrate ageing and patina? While the complex is undergoing redevelopment at the time of writing, the design project embraces the condition of the historic buildings in the immediate aftermath of the earthquakes and builds upon the patina of the mill and adjacent flour and grain store in developing a design for their adaptation as a micro-distillery. Research into the traditional Japanese ideology of wabi-sabi and its practical applications form the basis for a regenerative design approach which finds value in imperfection, impermanence and incompleteness. The thesis combines a literature review, precedent review and site analysis together with a design proposal. This thesis shows that adaptive reuse projects can benefit from an active collaboration with the processes of decay. Instead of a mindset where an architectural work is considered the finished article upon completion of construction, an empathetic and sensitive design philosophy is employed in which careful thought is given to the continued preservation and evolution of a structure with the recognition that evidence of past wear, tear, patina and weathering can all contribute positively to a building's future. In this fashion, rather than simply remaining as relics of the past, buildings can allow the landscape of their urban context to shape and mould them to ensure that their architectural experience can continue to be enjoyed by generations to come.
