When the devastating 6.3 magnitude earthquake hit Christchurch, Aotearoa New Zealand, at 12.51pm on 22nd February 2011, the psychological and physical landscape was irrevocably changed. In the days and weeks following the disaster communities were isolated due to failed infrastructure, continuing aftershocks and the extensive search and rescue effort which focussed resources on the central business district. In such moments the resilience of a community is truly tested. This research discusses the role of grassroots community groups in facilitating community resilience during the Christchurch 2010/11 earthquakes and the role of place in doing so. I argue that place specific strategies for urban resilience need to be enacted from a grassroots level while being supported by broader policies and agencies. Using a case study of Project Lyttelton – a group aspiring towards a resilient sustainable future who were caught at the epicentre of the February earthquake – I demonstrate the role of a community group in creating resilience through self-organised place specific action during a disaster. The group provided emotional care, basic facilities and rebuilding assistance to the residents of Lyttelton, proving to be an invaluable asset. These actions are closely linked to the characteristics of social support and social learning that have been identified as important to socio-ecological resilience. In addition this research will seek to understand and explore the nuances of place and identity and its role in shaping resilience to such dis-placing events. Drawing on community narratives of the displacement of place identity, the potential for a progressive sense of place as instigated by local groups will be investigated as an avenue for adaptation by communities at risk of disaster and place destabilisation.
Architecture and music have a long intertwining history.These respective creative forces many times have collaborated into monumental place, harboured rich occasion, been catalyst for cultural movement and defined generations. Together they transcend their respective identities. From dinky local church to monstrous national stadia, together they are an intense concentration, a powerfully addictive dosage where architecture is the place, music is the faith, and people are the reason. Music is a programme that architecture often celebrates in poetic and grand fashion; a superficial excuse to symbolise their creative parallels. But their relationship is much richer and holds more value than just the opportunity to attempt architectural metaphor.While music will always overshadow the architecture in the sense of a singular event, architecture is like the soundman behind the mixing desk. It’s not the star front and centre grabbing your attention, but is responsible for framing the star. It is the foundational backdrop, a critical pillar. Great architecture can help make great music. In this sense music is a communication of architecture, it is the ultimate creative function. Christchurch, New Zealand, is a city whose story changed in an instant. The seismic events of 2010 and 2011 have become the overriding subject of its historical narrative, as it will be for years to come. Disaster redefines place (the town of Napier, struck by an earthquake in 1931, exemplifies this). There is no quantifiable justification for an exploration of architecture and music within the context of Christchurch. The Town Hall, one of New Zealand’s most architecturally significant buildings, is under repair. The Christ Church Cathedral will more than likely be rebuilt to some degree of its former self. But these are echoes of the city that Christchurch was.They are saved because they are artefact. Evidence of history.This thesis makes the argument for the new, the better than before, and for the making of opportunity from disaster, by proposing a ‘new’ town hall, conceived from the sound of old.
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.
