1967 THE MARSHALL HOUSE/ BRUCE RICKARD
BRUCE RICKARD’S APPROACH TO ARCHITECTURE IS HUMAN IN BOTH ITS SCALE AND ITS SENSITIVITY. IT IS ESSENTIALLY LIFE AFFIRMING, OPTIMISTIC AND MAKES A MEANINGFUL CONNECTION WITH NATURE.
Have to come clean and confess that I am a fan of Bruce Rickard’s work in general and this house in particular. For seven years it has been home to my family, and so my experience of Rickard’s architecture is a very personal one. I can still recall when a colleague showed me snaps of the Marshall House which was for sale for the first time since it was built in 1967. Its special qualities were immediately evident, and I have to say, still are.
Born in 1929, Rickard studied architecture at Sydney Technical College in the evenings while working during the day for celebrated architect Sydney Ancher. In 1954 he travelled to the UK where he studied landscape architecture at University College London, and in 1956 received a fellowship to study at the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia. In Europe and America Rickard had the opportunity to see the work of many of the great modernists of the day, such as Le Corbusier and Mies van der Rohe, but it was the houses of Frank Lloyd Wright that he ‘found staggering’. He admired the way they responded to the site, the flowing spaces and the warm feeling, ‘like the inside of a rum barrel’. He saw a lot of Wright’s work during his time there, and was convinced that architecturally this was the way forward. Coming home to Australia in 1959, he was free to adapt Wrightian principles to the local climate and culture, and create from it his own distinctive signature style.
Bruce Rickard was 36 and already had 26 domestic residences under his belt when Penny and Greg Marshall approached him on the recommendation of their friend Richard Leplastrier, an architecture student at the time.
By this time Rickard had already worked through many of the principles that have endured throughout his long career. The house he built in 1961 in Kokoda Avenue, Wahroonga, for his own family and architectural practice, was something of a model for the Marshall House. There’s the strong emphasis on living spaces – indoor and out – and the flow between the two; the choice of natural, organic materials, and the desire to add warmth with as much winter sun as possible through sensitive siting. Both projects tackled the difficulties of building on a battleaxe block. Rickard, surprisingly, expresses a preference for this narrow type of block as it ‘allows you [the architect] to extend your wings’.
Articulating the philosophy that has informed his architecture throughout his working life, Rickard, in 1994, described buildings ‘that allow and encourage people in their everyday life to enjoy and partake of the pleasant sensations emanating from climate and the natural and built environment, such as the wellbeing felt from sun in winter and shade in summer; the delight of seeing trees, plants and the sky’. Before I read this, I implicitly knew it to be true. There are those moments in life which one doesn’t often appreciate are the result of someone else’s consideration – the ability to read the Saturday paper in winter in a patch of sunlight; coming up the stairs each morning to a knockout view framed by trees; taking a coffee in a sun-dappled courtyard as the children potter around. Rickard’s approach to architecture is human in both its scale and sensitivity. It is essentially life affirming, optimistic and makes a meaningful connection with nature.
The Marshall House was built on a rather restrictive block – down a steep driveway with a sewer line running through the west of it. For this reason the top of the block was chosen, which also had the advantage of securing better views. The house is a typical example of Rickard’s ability to extend the living space by blurring the line between inside and out. ‘One of the design problems was where to put the front door,’ says Rickard. ‘The terrace, facing north, was the best spot for the outdoor living area but as it also had a view, a front door would have blocked all that out.’ In the end, the idea of a conventional front door was abandoned and, instead, a bank of glass and timber doors, all opening outwards to the courtyard, serve to give the house a broad and welcoming aspect. On the south side, a deck captures the view across the Spit Bridge and beyond.
The main living space is one large room flanked by the two outdoor spaces. As with some of Rickard’s other buildings, it pivots around the central core of a fireplace on one side and galley kitchen on the other. The fireplace is generous and open, with a hob for a tray to its left, used as a seat by both us and the Marshalls. The kitchen is a simple design of great ingenuity. Not only has it endured 40 years of use with immense durability, but its stylistic devices are still the source of admiration. A stainless steel bench runs the length of it, behind which is a recessed cupboard housing everything from recipe books to condiments. Three extra chopping boards, or pot stands, slide out from under the benchtops and long thin timber shelves are perfect for having everyday cooking ingredients to hand.
The cupboards are all in laminated timber with brass D-handles. The style has lasted because it is simple. It was also economical. The Marshalls would be the first to admit that the house had to be built within a strict budget and that they entrusted the project entirely to Rickard without much interference, enabling the architect’s vision to remain intact.
The living area faces west and, while the view is compelling, Rickard chose to build a solid wall along its length to absorb the heat of the westerly afternoon sun. The view is revealed by a large window to the left of this wall, and glass doors lead out onto the deck. What works so well about this design is its ability to adapt to seasonal change. In summer, all the doors can be opened up, extending the living areas out onto the deck and courtyard. In winter, the house closes down, the solid wall creating a sense of protection against the elements, while the centrally placed fireplace provides a source of heat and comfort.
The lower floor houses three bedrooms and a workroom, originally used for carpentry projects, but now a study. The bedrooms, as Rickard says, are like ‘ship’s cabins’, but all have double-glass doors onto the west-facing deck to allay any sense of being closed in. Everything is built in, so the only additional items required are a bed and chair. The rooms have laminated timber built-in cupboards, a simple desk and a shelf that sits over the bedhead, and houses two light bulbs. The bedrooms are a pleasing mix of brick, cedar panelling, and white-painted plasterboard. Both bathrooms (one ensuite) are small and serviceable but far from the luxury of today’s bathroom requirements, and have had the original bronze/brown glass mosaics replaced with sturdier slate tiles.
Much of the house’s warmth comes from the choice of materials. The construction material is predominantly recycled sandstock bricks sourced from Paddington houses demolished when the Eastern Suburbs Railway was being built. They are undeniably bricks of character. Small explosions of impurities in the clay add bursts of grey to the soft sand base colour. Bricks are used both externally and internally and are left unadorned. The brick is combined with shiplapped western red cedar chosen for its richness and depth, and used for all windows and doors. This timber was even used for the living room ceiling, and the choice of wide boards running the length of the space creates a linear pattern that elongates the room.
One of the fundamental, but often neglected, aspects of a home is the choice of lighting. I have grown up with a central ceiling light and a lamp. Here, the lighting plan is ingenious but, in keeping with the house, modest. In the bedrooms, the main switch turns on recessed lights above the wardrobe doors. Upstairs, set into the red cedar ceiling are six recessed lights 20 cm square; discreetly hidden behind a timber strip in the kitchen are long fluorescent tubes, and built into the shelving that runs the length of the living area are lights behind specially constructed shades in linen-covered Perspex. The combination of different lights allows for infinite variety and the ability to ‘close down’ certain areas at night to create a feeling of intimacy while eating, reading or just watching TV.
As for the landscaping, Penny Marshall tells how it was Rickard who introduced her to native plants. He had studied landscape design, and in Pennsylvania had been impressed by an exhibition of the work of Burle Marx, who used natives. Returning home, Rickard found it hard to find Australian natives – nurseries had few, and officials for public planning favoured British plants. Around Lake Burley Griffin, for example, they wanted weeping willows, not river red gums.
The Marshalls opted to plant natives and the house is now surrounded by huge angophoras and native flowering plants which in turn attract birds. The setting is complete. After 33 years, the Marshalls sold their house to us and commissioned Rickard to design a second house for them. Looking through his lifelong list of projects it is interesting just how many clients have come back for a second house…and then there are those who have simply never left.
DETAILS THE MARSHALL HOUSE
BUILT-IN LIGHT In Bruce Rickard houses of this period, the lighting scheme was comprehensively considered. Here, the light fitting has been combined with a shelving unit which runs the entire length of the west-facing brick wall in the living room. 40 mm meranti (Pacific maple) timber sandwiches a light shade, custom-made for the purpose. Linen was wrapped around Perspex to form a rectangular shade while the light bulb and switch were discreetly tucked away from sight. The combination of materials shown here illustrates something of Rickard’s preference for honest, unadorned materials – brick, timber and linen – that require no enhancement and stand the test of time.
TIMBER PANELLING Whereas upstairs on the living/dining level, brick is the predominant material, it plays a smaller role in the bedroom area. Shiplap panelling, laminated timber and white-painted plasterboard are also used in the materials mix. 23 cm-wide boards in western red cedar wrap around the stairwell wall and are held in place with exposed copper nails. The rich colour and grain of the wood imparts the warmth that Rickard strove for in his architecture. Set into the timber is a recessed timber-framed light which can be switched on and off at either the top or bottom of the stairs. All the switches are placed at a very low level, making them easy for children to use.
POT STANDS The galley kitchen is streamlined and functional with plenty of cupboards and shelves but not an enormous amount of preparation space. Integrated into the design of the kitchen cabinetry are three pull-out pot stands or chopping boards, which are constantly in use. They significantly increase the sense of useable space but can be put away equally easily. The simple brass D-handles used throughout the kitchen are completely in tune with the unpretentious quality of the design.
SHELVING While Rickard didn’t design the furniture for his houses, he did design many elements of the interior, greatly reducing the need for extraneous pieces of furniture or lighting. His solutions were often simple and economical. For example, each of the bedrooms has a slim shelf above the bed. The surface is useful for books and ornaments but, at two points underneath, are light bulbs and a switch, forming an integrated reading light. There is also a light to illuminate the wardrobes, illustrating Rickard’s preference for localised lighting sources rather than the general glare of a central light
RECESSED STORAGE The galley kitchen bench is one piece of formed stainless steel with an integrated double sink in the centre. While it has lost its shine over the years, it has gained the patina of a matt, much-used surface that continues to look good despite 40 years of service. A long cupboard with sliding plywood doors is recessed behind this bench, and houses cookery books at one end, condiments in the middle and large serving bowls at the other. It means functional items can be hidden from view yet easily accessed. The base of this cupboard is also stainless steel, making it easy to maintain. The cupboards above continue to ceiling level, maximising storage in what is essentially a small space.
OUTDOOR ROOM At the south side of the living room is a deck surrounded by trees on two sides and facing the Spit Bridge on the other. The shiplapped western red cedar balustrade gives a sense of enclosure and echoes the timber treatment internally. All the doors from the living room are floor–to–ceiling height and disappear when open, thus increasing the sense that the deck is an extension of the living space – in essence, an outdoor room. As the deck is exposed to very strong westerly sun, the untreated hardwood timber on the floor has weathered to a silvery grey.