Fresh vision takes building to new heights

Review by Stephen Crafti

SOME of RMIT University's most significant buildings border Bowen Street. The were designed in the mid-1930s by Victorian chief architect Percy Everett and the bands of brown brick walls and steel windows create a rhythm to this area of the Melbourne campus.

Architect Peter Elliott has been instrumental in redesigning several RMIT buildings.

His latest design, ''Building 9 Rooftop Extension'', recently received several awards from the Australian Institute of Architects (Victorian chapter), including the John George Knight Award for heritage architecture.

Combining the past with the present requires great skill, creating a distinction between the two time frames while not overpowering the original building.

"We wanted to create a companion building in its own right while still respecting the past," says Elliott, who designed two additional floors to the three-level building.

In contrast to the bands of brown brick, the rooftop extension is relatively lightweight.

The two upper levels for the school of architecture and design are made from folded zinc and tinted black glass. And in contrast to the smooth, rounded corners of Everett's building, Elliott's ''mantle'' appears sharp and jagged.

"We wanted to animate the facade as well as creating a sculptural effect," he says.

While it is easy to be nostalgic, a walk through the original corridor at ground level provides a reality check, with the brick-walled corridors and linoleum floors creating a sense of oppression.

"These buildings are quite 'cranky' to work with. Nothing is level or square," says Elliott.

New lifts provide access to levels four and five containing the media and communications department. But to truly experience Elliott's design, it is worthwhile taking the stairs.

Heavy timber handrails and solid walls give way to acid-green glass balustrades and fine steel detailing.

And as one progresses to the top of the building, the amount of natural light increases.

"Previously, there was a roof terrace with fairly rudimentary portable buildings. It was almost like a village, with a weather station and vegetable garden," says Elliott. The ''village'' has been replaced by offices and a rooftop terrace.

Double-height, and framed with a ''vertical garden'', it is an idyllic nook in which academics can relax. "It doubles as a function area," says Elliott, pointing out the large sliding doors leading to the terrace.

"The terrace also functions as a light well for the offices."

Elliott's brief for the offices was to create spaces that had a ''long life'', and also had a ''loose'' fit.

"Flexibility was a key word. The spaces had to accommodate academics working independently or in group situations," says Elliott.

As a result, there are several internalised offices at the core of the building's floor plates, with large timber and glass sliding doors opening to shared open-plan work spaces. And although appearing fixed, each enclosed office features a shared moveable party wall.

The spaces can be opened up to make one office into two and the sliding doors can be pulled back to create as few divisions as desired.

To maximise natural light, the open-plan areas are on the periphery, next to the windows.

"Too many offices suffer from insufficient light, as well as being denied a view," says Elliott, who included windows that open to allow for natural ventilation.

The extension was also designed to be walked around. The building can be reached by several paths, including University Way to the rear, and the expressed zinc roof draws the eye from several vantage points.

"It's like the bands of original brick which wrap around the entire building," says Elliott.