Architectural History Aotearoa 2021-03-16T22:54:12+00:00 Christine McCarthy Open Journal Systems <p><em>AHA: Architectural History Aotearoa</em> is a forum for broad-ranging discussion on the built environment and related issues in Aotearoa.&nbsp; Each issue focuses on a specific decade.&nbsp; It encourages experimental, raw thinking and investigation, from researchers and scholars (academics, enthusiasts, practitioners, and students) from all career stages and experiences that opens up new understanding of architecture in our country.&nbsp; It aims to be intellectually expansive in its investigations of each focussed time period and academically generous.</p> <p>Aha is both an acronym and a word in te reo Māori; translates "aha" as a verb meaning: "to do what? treated in what fashion? to do anything" and a noun meaning "what?"</p> Elegance and excesses: War, Gold and Borrowings: New Zealand Architecture in the 1860s 2021-03-10T22:34:06+00:00 Christine McCarthy <p>The 1860s were an eventful time for architecture in New Zealand. On the eve of the decade, in 1859, William Mason became the first person to be a registered architect in New Zealand. The scene was thus set for the English idea of architecture as a profession to more substantially impact on our land. From the decade's beginning were the start of civil wars and the discovery of gold, with New Zealand's first major gold rush in Otago. It was war and gold which crudely distinguished the decade's histories of the North Island and South Islands.</p> 2010-10-30T00:00:00+00:00 Copyright (c) 2010 The House that Engst Built 2021-03-10T22:39:56+00:00 Alison Dangerfield <p>The German Moravian missionaries made a concerted foray into New Zealand in the nineteenth century. They travelled through the mainland and then went directly out to the Chatham Islands. One of the four to arrive there in 1843 was responsible for the only remaining architectural link with their mission. The German Mission House was designed by this missionary, Engst, who was committed to the idea of self reliance. He built it of locally quarried stone and several species of timber found locally, as well as kauri brought from the mainland. It was constructed in the 1860s - a functional, straightforward building, fit for its purpose. 150 years later, the German Mission House still stands facing the bleak northern coastline under the looming outcrop of Maunganui, visited regularly. It has been a home and trading post, and until a few years ago was inhabited. However in recent years it has been in danger of collapse. In early 2010, urgent conservation work was undertaken through the collaboration of many heritage professionals, going beyond the call, and interested locals, all urgently working to prevent its deterioration and collapse. The story of its conservation is one of efforts against the rugged climate.</p> 2010-10-30T00:00:00+00:00 Copyright (c) 2010 A Rose between Two Thorns; Tringham, Chatfield and Toxward, 1865 to 1870 2021-03-10T22:43:48+00:00 Adrian Humphris Geoff Mew <p>Charles Tringham, William Chatfield and Christian Julius Toxward are all alleged to have started practices in Wellington in the mid-1860s. Numerous tenders for building work by Tringham and Toxward can be found in newspapers at the time, but tenders by Chatfield do not appear until 1875. There also appears to have been little other competition at the time. Tringham came to New Zealand from England as a carpenter, progressed to being a builder, and was calling himself an architect by 1867. From then until the end of 1869 he tendered in Wellington newspapers for at least 48 buildings. Toxward, a Dane, spent several years as a draftsman in Victoria, Australia, then traveled extensively in Europe. He came to New Zealand by 1862, working in Dunedin and Invercargill before establishing a private practice in Wellington in 1866. By the end of 1869 his tender notices in Wellington newspapers totaled 25. Tringham and Toxward appear to have had quite different approaches in establishing their Wellington practices. Tringham, the younger man at 26, concentrated on designing houses and shops combined with dwellings; he only tendered for four non-residential buildings in the 1860s. Toxward, aged 35 and a prominent Mason, seems to have concentrated on contracts for more substantial buildings such as schools, churches, stores such as Kirkcaldie &amp; Stains and works for the Provincial Government. He only appears to have designed three houses during this period. Chatfield arrived in 1867 and his obituary claims that he ran a practice from then until 1872 when he joined the Wellington Provincial Government as a draftsman. The lack of tenders in the papers suggests either he had limited success or his work was organised through other means, such as word of mouth. Once his architectural practice was established, his early career (40 buildings in four years) closely paralleled that of Tringham. All three, with the later addition of Thomas Turnbull, dominated the Wellington architectural scene through to the early 1890s. To place their output in context we discuss other architects who appear in Wellington in the late 1860s, and the building profession during this time.</p> 2010-10-30T00:00:00+00:00 Copyright (c) 2010 The Vanishing Acheron House of Refuge. A Case of "Frontier Chaos"? 2021-03-10T22:50:46+00:00 Clare Kelly <p>The Acheron House of Refuge built between 1863 and 1864 near the junction of the Guide River with the Acheron River in the South Island high country was one of a chain of accommodation houses on the Inland Stock Route between Nelson and Canterbury. In 1865 the Nelson Provincial Engineer John Blackett wrote to the Nelson Provincial Government that he feared "the entire destruction of the house without the possibility of it being prevented" and blamed "the character of some of the travellers who pass this road." By the end of 1865, it was destroyed without trace. This paper considers incidents of lawlessness at the accommodation houses in the mid 1860s and the brief existence of the Acheron House of Refuge. It questions whether its demise was the result of "frontier chaos," a term which was first used by historian Miles Fairburn in 1989 to describe how rapid frontier expansion in New Zealand had scattered settlers and engendered transience, loneliness and lawlessness. Using settler diaries, letters and manuscripts this paper considers Fairburn's "frontier chaos" theory. It examines his assertions that in the New Zealand settler world prior to 1890 "seldom ... were goods and services exchanged," and that an atomised New Zealand settler society had "no institutions ... to facilitate mixing and meeting" (Fairburn "Local Community or Atomised Society?" pp 169-170,192,195,206,217). This paper concludes that incidents of lawlessness at the accommodation houses were linked to the South Island gold rushes, were short term and often the result of ill-prepared men desperate to survive in an unforgiving climate. At the accommodation houses on the Nelson to Canterbury Inland Stock Route travellers, keepers and neighbours shared an unwritten code of reciprocity. These accommodation houses formed the unofficial nuclei of small, loose-knit high country communities.</p> 2010-10-30T00:00:00+00:00 Copyright (c) 2010 Paper hanging numbers and the business of wallpaper in the 1860s 2021-03-10T22:54:13+00:00 Christine McCarthy <p>This paper will present research on wallpaper advertising in the nineteenth century, focussing in particular on the 1860s.</p> 2010-10-30T00:00:00+00:00 Copyright (c) 2010 Spectacle and "Shedifice": Wellington's Ambiguous Role in the Reception of the Duke of Edinburgh 2021-03-10T22:58:13+00:00 Chris McDonald <p>New Zealand's first royal tour occurred in 1869 just four years after Wellington became the seat of the colonial government. The Duke of Edinburgh's short visit left no permanent physical impression on the new capital other than the four trees he planted in the garden of Government House (now Parliament Grounds). Nevertheless, the Duke's reception was an overtly Imperial occasion which highlighted the colonial character of Wellington's incipient ceremonial spaces. In developing this argument, the paper shows how the Australasian colonies adopted a highly standardised format for their reception of royal visitors. Indeed, it will be shown that the first royal visits to Australia and New Zealand were the region's first pan-colonial event. At the same time, the Duke's reception in New Zealand, revealed much about the young colony's still-fluid political geography. In particular, the tour drew attention to the weak and unstable nature of many public institutions. Amid intense inter-provincial rivalry of the 1860s, the royal visit also highlighted the ambiguous relationship between New Zealand's new capital and the colony's other centres of European population. Wellington's response to the royal visit differed little from those of Christchurch and Dunedin, indeed the capital was upstaged by the younger and wealthier settlements in the South Island. Meanwhile, Auckland retained many of the attributes of a colonial capital. One British commentator went so far as to suggest that Wellington was not a "real" capital, in the manner of Melbourne or Sydney. The paper examines this proposition, and draws conclusions about Wellington's true status in the colony at the close of the decade.</p> 2010-10-30T00:00:00+00:00 Copyright (c) 2010 The 1866 Vercoe and Harding map and the axonometric: the object of subjective representation 2021-03-11T01:51:48+00:00 Katherine O'Shaughnessy <p>The 1866 Vercoe and Harding map of Auckland provides a visual description of colonial development during the 1860s. This map is a static representation of the past and the backdrop to an exploration of the site via architectural drawing. This paper outlines the process of excavating a site through axonometric drawing looking specifically at an area within Freemans Bay. It explains how the two dimensional Vercoe and Harding map has been extruded into a three dimensional representation of the site. The idea of the map as a subjective representation of the past will be explored alongside the use of what might be considered an objective drawing type to create a subjective visualization of the site. The paper will investigate the process of creating this axonometric and the way in which this drawing relies on both historical fact and historical assumption. It will address how this process produces an understanding of the site, namely, the ability to translate each building based on the simple outline of its plan. This paper is part of a wider investigation into the documentation of heritage sites and the use of drawing to create an understanding of place. Thus, this drawing alone does not create this awareness of place, but rather, informs a new understanding of the 1866 map and a representation of what Freemans Bay might have been during the 1860s. At first glance, it might seem that a map is objective. It is a tool traditionally used for navigation and thus reliant upon objectivity. We generally trust that the person creating the map has provided us with the accurate details of the area we are navigating. We are here and the map maker can tell us how to get there. Therefore, we trust, that the 1866 Vercoe and Harding map of Auckland will provide us with a glimpse of life in Auckland during the 1860s. It might also seem that an axonometric is objective. This method of drawing is scaled and measured; it represents a three-dimensional object upon a two-dimensional surface. A plan can be extruded with the knowledge provided by the object's elevations to portray an objective, measured representation of the object. This paper investigates the seemingly objective map and axonometric through the extrusion of a portion of Vercoe and Harding's 1866 map of Auckland into an axonometric drawing. When the map is extruded into an axonometric drawing, the subjective qualities of both are revealed. In creating a new axonometric projection of a map, questions arise, such as: why the document was made? what was being represented? and how much is this document reliant upon the views of those who made the map? Equally, the subjective nature of the axonometric drawing is revealed through this process of extruding the map. For example, without a comprehensive and complete record of the site, the drawing is reliant upon a number of assumptions and these assumptions are dependent upon the subjective view of the axonometer. Therefore, the axonometric drawing derived from the map is a supposedly objective document reliant on the subjective. The axonometric drawing derived from the 1866 Vercoe and Harding map of Auckland is part of a larger project which attempts to document place by revealing the possible history of a site. A range of maps are considered in this project, all being extruded in the same manner as the Vercoe and Harding map but each having its own process dependent on the time the map is representing. These axonometric projections of various maps, together, aim to represent both time and space and to convey a sense of place.</p> 2010-10-30T00:00:00+00:00 Copyright (c) 2010 "...with their usual cunning": gleaning architectural tactics from 1860s warfighting pa [paa] [pah]" 2021-03-11T01:55:34+00:00 Tyson Schmidt <p>Pā have been reaped by other disciplines. Archaeologists have poured over them like coroners, enquiring into what was and how it came to be, dissecting the typology, studying and debating its purposes, its uses, its spread, its numbers. Military historians have drilled into the role pā played in individual battles, campaigns, and even distant conflicts. Architecture prefers the whare, with only a handful of architects fossicking around pā – Sarah Treadwell's enquiry into Gate Pa, Amanda Yates' examination of monumental interior, Rewi Thompson's and Royal Associates' referencing of parts of pā in their work. This article extends the architectural fossicking by looking at what can be learnt from warfighting pā of the 1860s – a decade where they reached a nadir of design and use as a result of cultural conflict.</p> 2010-10-30T00:00:00+00:00 Copyright (c) 2010