Common Ground: Weaving a Conduit for Environmental Knowledge at Hiwiroa Station

The scheme is anchored in a diverse body of conceptual research, which was conducted in two parts: firstly, the poetic research, which yielded the metaphor of weaving as a method of intertwining disparate ideas, and secondly, the pragmatic research, which spanned the topics of ecology, education, ontology, climate change, and architectural theory. 

The project navigates the complexities of developing a new ‘knowledge architecture’ in response to multiple environmental and cultural conditions, and therefore requires a strong guiding principle. The architectural proposal is envisioned as a tapestry, comprising the overlapping 'warp' and 'weft' strands of research. In the spirit of the metaphor, it is made strong by the tension between the two directions and finds richness in the relationships of the constituent strands.

The concept of ecology underpinned the pragmatic strands of research. It was used as a lens through which to investigate the site, the climate crisis, and the global environmental knowledge-scape. Exploring an ecological approach to the climate response, the interconnectedness of the various sectors which shape our world - environment, society, economy, education, media, and culture – became clear. Conventional sociological or geographical teachings may suggest that a mere handful of these sectors have close relationships – for example, economy and society. An ecological lens, however, suggests everything is interlinked: under the weight of an issue as encompassing as the climate crisis, the collapse of one sector could mean the collapse of all. This realisation within the project sparked the imperative for a holistic architectural approach to the revitalisation of both the knowledge and environmental ecologies on the site.

A significant amount of time was spent unravelling what it meant to design for Hiwiroa as a place. Surviving challenges like Cyclone Gabrielle, which left the farm inaccessible for weeks, Hiwiroa provided an ideal canvas for testing architecture's capacity to engage in complex ideological discussions around sustainability. Its landscape is indicative of nationwide cultural and environmental fractures: the river health is horrendous, forestry slash is pervasive, low market prices make a good farming income hard to achieve, and cultural tensions are high. Yet, with a seventy-year history of bush regeneration, it is also a landscape of healing: Hiwiroa is home to the largest block of native ecology from Gisborne to Tolaga Bay. This rich site context, coupled with rigorous conceptual research, created a significant design challenge: the architectural proposal aims to honour the complex realm within which it sits. As such, the scheme is imbued with a sense of poetry and narrative. The plan is employed as a diagram where knowledge occurs at the intersection of nature and people, and the materiality is curated to express the scheme's ideological message. A woven artwork was created prior to the development of the architectural proposal, with the goal of testing these complex relationships in a small-scale abstracted format. 

Cultural, environmental, social, and economic sustainability is the scheme’s primary focus: it permeates every scale, from the masterplan’s navigation of forest and farm, to the composition of the earth wall mix. Designing the life cycle of the building – both ideologically and physically – became part of this project as its strong stance on sustainability developed. Consequently, the provenance of materials became critical to the project’s authenticity and success – thus, a large portion of the research was centred around site investigation to define the palette of materials and construction systems. A specific earth mix was developed using the site’s clay, wood shavings, flax, straw, and recycled paper. It was tested in the creation of the large topographical model base which eventually housed a 1:250 scale model of the scheme. 

Three scales of work were produced as a final outcome: a masterplan, an architectural proposal, and a series of physical objects. The design for Common Ground diverges from traditional architectural strategies for addressing knowledge and learning: the building seeks to disperse knowledge rather than contain it. The proposal is equally as focused on the movement of ideas as it is the movement of people: multiple programmes intertwine within the bounds of the building - greenhouse, woolshed, timber mill, butchery, workshop, wharekai and events space. In a way, these varied activities work as a continuum rather than as discrete events, aided by the plan which delineates a spatial sequence based on the steps of knowledge creation. The entrance – a greenhouse gallery – offers a moment of grounding, while the integration of the existing century-old woolshed into the building’s fabric and the creation of a corresponding 'plant shed' embodies the scheme’s holistic approach. An ‘elemental workshop’ and conversation chamber offer spaces for learning through making and talking respectively, with each fuelling the other to create a self-perpetuating knowledge ecosystem.  

Common Ground advocates for an authentic, holistic sustainability. The master plan inverts the traditional dynamics of land management, privileging forest regeneration rather than farm productivity. The building is made of humble materials from the site, crafted beautifully to prove a point: the land has what we need if we know how to use it. In an era of global division, this project seeks unity, embracing both Māori and Pākehā perspectives sincerely and without compromise. It explores navigating climate change without cultural loss, posing questions without imposing answers. Architecture is positioned as a conduit for discussion rather than a panacea. The scheme pushes architecture beyond the physical space, asking for a restructure of the architecture of contemporary knowledge itself.

It’s rare these days that a plan is the subject of such intensive consideration as a document of a project’s exceptionality. As a place of work, of physical exertion, of individual study, meeting and celebration the planning is intricate and transformable. The programming was refined by being based on the study of native species, and regional products and services. It is a close reading which convinces us of its much greater significance. The architecture reaches out and the landscape seeps in; the form was opened-up [ and closed-down ] to respond to both the general orientation and micro-site conditions. In calibrating the tectonics and materiality of a large new enclosure over an existing farm shed messy research into heavy earth compaction, reusing and re-shaping farm timbers and metal cladding, casting bronze fittings and weaving flax informed the sectional design for a robust structure sitting comfortably on the open ground and largely open to the elements. Standalone material project outcomes in earths, fibres, timbers and bronze in the presentation were stepping stones towards the informed the larger project. Following every site visit new sketches, photography and graphics deepened the reading of the land, its productivity/non-productivity and the extrapolation of this as regional and national problem. These works assiduously and elegantly documented the farm’s paddocks, reforestation, river valley and native bush landscapes deepening a reading of the landscapes while simultaneously drawing various detailed material assemblies. In all great design and presentation skill and judgement is shown by the designer working on a heavily climate-damaged landscape.  

By Michael Milojevic, supervisor