When Debra Millar first saw the long, triangular corner site on which her architect husband Guy Tarrant wanted to build, she was not exactly thrilled.
The site is next to busy Point Chevalier Rd, and all she could think was that it’d be noisy and exposed.
She pulled up a
Nine years on, and the ambient road sounds no longer bother her, in part because Guy has designed what the couple affectionately call “the compound”, an unusual brick building that noses its way towards the street, yet keeps nosiness at bay.
The first thing you notice is its elongated stretch of red brick, in keeping with the brick and tile homes popular to the area.
The second is its clerestory windows, allowing those inside complete privacy, along with a peep of the tall forest pansies with their deep burgundy leaves visible through the glass. Plenty of sunlight floods in from the north-facing courtyard, invisible from the street.
“There was a lot of discussion when it was being built,” laughs Debra, over a coffee in the spacious living room.
“People would stop and ask, ‘Is it a church? A kindergarten? A library? At one point there was talk it might be an ambulance or fire station. Then when it was finished people would stop and say, ‘Is this a house?’ I guess it’s tested people but it’s a very easy house to be in.”
The “Courtyard House” went on to win New Zealand’s top architecture gong, the Sir Ian Athfield Award for Architecture in 2017.
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Advertise with NZME.Another of Guy's designs features in Debra's new book, Architecture At Home, alongside several other exquisite architecturally designed New Zealand houses by such prominent names as Jack McKinney, Lisa Webb, Richard Naish and Andrew Patterson.
Covid and its endless lockdowns were the catalyst for the book, an appreciation of the fact our homes had essentially become “both a refuge and a cage,” Debra writes.
A former newspaper journalist and editor at Home & Building magazine (now Home), Debra works in architecture publishing and through her company Point Publishing has released several books on the subject along with a history of Point Chevalier, in which she writes of trams that would take passengers to the beach along that same busy stretch of road.
Architecture At Home charts diverse design territory, ranging from big to small, urban to bush, mountain to sea.
Among them: a cantilevered timber box floating over the trees in Waiheke, a barn-style dwelling on a Marlborough vineyard, a North Shore heritage villa extension with a striking rock wall.
The criteria for inclusion wasn’t necessarily how big the budget each house is an example of design that Debra simply admired or found interesting.
“I’m aware that not everyone is in the position to be able to afford an architect but I do think a lot more people would be wise to involve them when renovating or building,” she says.
“Because to me, good architecture isn’t about grand gestures or big budgets. It’s about small moments of joy, the way light enters a space, the way a view is framed. Architects are so attuned to the environment and space and proportion and materials, and they have the ability to capture that and delight people.”
Many in the book have won awards, and several have gone on to apply their skills, honed from designing standalone houses, to multi-unit and cost-effective housing solutions. But if there’s a common thread between them, it’s what the author refers to as an “honesty of purpose”.
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“There’s a particular response to the environment in which they’re located. And that’s where I think architects play such a valuable role, designing for the context of the space. I mean, this house you wouldn’t take it and put it anywhere else.”
Debra and Guy had previously built two other courtyard homes but were wanting to downsize not that they’re short on space here, the property spread over about 750 sqm, the single-level house taking up 210 sqm.
The original site once had a small brick and tile dwelling that was somewhat engulfed by its large section. Now, thanks to Guy’s visionary design, its footprint has been flipped the other way, the new L-shaped dwelling taken as far to the perimeter as possible.
“This is probably the most pure example of a courtyard plan form Guy has done,” says Debra.
Only a small strip of window in the kitchen opens to the street, so she can gaze out to the old church across the road while she’s cooking. A divine sense of serenity is echoed in this spacious family hub, the solidity of the brick and polished concrete floors softened by an exquisite cedar ceiling that almost glows at night, reflecting the soft light thrown from hanging pendants.
The cedar also extends over the courtyard, providing shade in the height of summer, yet allowing the winter sun to penetrate. When it’s raining, you can sit outside or leave the doors wide open.
Rather than cutting off access to the pool with a potentially unattractive safety fence, it’s fringed by a green moat of griselinia, transforming the pool itself into a water feature that can be appreciated from almost every room.
“You get the reflections, you get shadows,” says Debra. “The light bounces up and moves around on the cedar and you get the rain on it. It’s a constantly changing watery landscape.”
Visitors wander through to the bedrooms via a cosy living room, with a beautiful oak bookshelf, Guy’s answer to doing away with a traditional hallway.
A sliding concertina door from the study creates versatility and connection to the outdoors, meaning you could be working yet still part of the action.
“I love the fact I can close those off at night and the rest of the house disappears. It’s also our notional third bedroom.”
Meanwhile, in two of the bedrooms, including their daughter’s old room, before she flew the coup to uni, tall doors open to a breeze-block style wall, both decorative and ventilating.
That the house is an artwork in itself is perhaps testament to Guy’s early life as a painter, but it’s also the ideal canvas for a few favourite pieces.
In the entrance foyer, oak shelving is home to Guy’s collection of Crown Lynn pottery, much of it from his late father’s collection, alongside a sky-blue vase by Peter Collis.
A painting of brickwork as though observed through a rain-splotched window sits above the dining table, echoing the brick behind it. It’s on loan from the artist Charlotte Handy, and complements the space so brilliantly, Debra says she’ll find it hard to give it back.
Above the couch is an exuberant crimson work by her sister, the celebrated abstract painter Judy Millar.
Pinning the design of the house to any one style seems moot, although Guy has always had a fondness for Scandinavian minimalism, says Debra.
“He just likes simplicity and uses materials to impart warmth into the architecture.”
The couple’s taste for furniture reflects this, with a leather couch and kitchen bar stools by Finnish architect Alvar Aalto. And it’s not without its playfulness.
Where the dining room table sits at the hull of the building, the bricks curve rather than meeting at a sharp point.
The door to the garage has been painted a cheery tangerine. It offsets the exterior bricks that are visible from the hallway, yet it took Debra some getting used to.
“I guess this is a statement house because it looks unusual but it’s not trying to make a statement it’s a very calm house. And we enjoy the fact we have a very intimate connection with the street as our front door opens directly onto it.”
Typically, building close to two street boundaries is discouraged by New Zealand’s residential planning laws, something Debra and Guy were mindful of the last thing they wanted was to create a building that felt impenetrable.
So they’ve wrapped two sides of the exterior with a lush garden, from which passers-by are welcome to pick from the plum tree when it’s fruiting.
The evergreen garden of ferns, calidora, ligularia, and some white flowers on the southern side are shaded by the liquidambars that line the street. The planting along Point Chevalier Rd is a perennial patch of bright shades of pink and burgundy.
“I wouldn’t call myself a gardener, I’m learning as I go but the idea is it’s just like this big meadow of flowers,” she says.
“I find it really therapeutic spending time out here. I like the fact we’re creating something the community can enjoy. Without the garden, it would be quite a confronting house.”
Despite its high ceilings, the brick walls and concrete floors mean there’s little need for heating. And while Debra still balks when she thinks of the waste carried from the construction site, she takes comfort from the fact the house will inevitably still be standing strong in 100 years’ time.
“I think the most sustainable act is to build a high-quality house that will endure,” she says. “It’s not completely maintenance-free in that the timber needs re-oiling every few years but it’s built to last.”
Architecture At Home by Debra Millar, $80, is published by Point Publishing.
