“The day that our offer on this site was accepted just so happened to be the same day that Simon proposed to me,” remembers Victoria, one of the young owners of this new two-bedroom home in Te Whanganui-a-Tara. “It was a lot of adulting in the space of a few hours.”
The couple had been searching for a section on which to build their first home for some time. “I’m not from Wellington, so when I made my list of non-negotiables – walkable to work, sunny, near a village – I didn’t realise what a high bar I had set,” says Victoria. Exploring their limited options, the pair were fast losing hope when this bush-covered plot popped up on Trade Me. Drenched in sunlight, with unobstructed views and a forest of established trees, it ticked every box on Victoria’s wish list. “But man, it was steep,” says Simon.
The section had been chopped off the back of a property on the road below. The sellers had kept their street-front villa, subdividing the unruly, untouched backyard. There are no nearby neighbours and a road skirts the top of the section enabling independent access. The couple quickly sought assurance that the slope was buildable and bought it.
After initial discussions with several architects, they linked up with Sally Ogle, Ben Mitchell-Anyon and Stephanie Roughan, of Patchwork Architecture. The clients had come across Patchwork’s 10x10 house (a 100-square-metre home on a similarly precarious slope) and knew their site called for the same compact and innovative approach. “We also loved that they were our age, had grown up with the same references and knew how we wanted to live,” says Simon.
Early investigations of the narrow hillside section found that the building envelope laid out within the District Plan rules was an unworkable upside-down tent. (These restrictions have since eased.) Designing a home within the boundaries of compliance would have been almost impossible, resulting in an expensive, complex terraced house full of retaining walls and stairs. “So our approach was: bugger that,” says Ben. “We chose very early on to break all those rules and build the house that made the most sense for this site instead.” It’s a bold move that triggered a lengthy resource consent process, requiring the architects to document and justify their design decisions. But it paid off.
Hanging off the hill on the sunny side of Wellington’s Aro Valley, this feat of engineering is not your traditional first home. The project was framed by two key restrictions – terrain and budget – with the house taking shape in the space between. “We developed the brief together with a bit of back-and-forth,” says Ben. “Yes, they could have two bedrooms and a carport, but that meant sticking to one bathroom and keeping the home within 90 square metres.”
The couple came armed with a mood board dominated by mid-century modern references such as the Case Study Houses and boxy cantilevered homes in the hills of Los Angeles. These became the catalyst for Patchwork’s decision to float the home from the land rather than anchor it in. “We focussed on how thin and light those modernist structures felt and how they expressed their support systems by making them visible and understandable,” says Ben. “A massive challenge when talking about a 35-degree slope in a city with a fault line running through it,” adds Sally.
Now lovingly dubbed The Nest, the home hangs in the treetops, reaching out towards those unobstructed views and all-day sun. White corrugate cladding provides a crisp contrast to the surrounding bush, and promises a durable, long-lasting finish – scaffolding to repaint the place would be a logistical and financial nightmare. The home is arranged over two levels with access that brings you off the busy street and into the main living and dining spaces. A rear internal staircase leads to the private sleeping quarters and bathroom below. Both levels pour onto full-width decks. There’s scope to close in a third lower level as a primary suite or guest accommodation in the future. “But that’s all further down the track,” says Simon.
Modernist undertones come through in the proportions and materiality of the warm interior, with vertical shiplap macrocarpa on the eastern and western walls, green Marmoleum floors and pops of colour including playful pink terrazzo in the kitchen and bathroom. “We’re not minimalist white-wall people,” says Victoria. “There’s enough white on the outside.” The colour brings personality and youth to the home, like in the bathroom, where dark red and terracotta tones glow as the sun filters through the surrounding branches.
Measuring 170 square metres – 80 metres of which is deck and carport – the footprint is intentionally modest. “We approached the design more as an apartment than a house,” Ben explains. “It offers the benefits of suburbia, like a bigger place and separation from your neighbours, and though it may lack the traditional lawn or garden, it’s not lacking usable outdoor space.” The stretching, sheltered decking is a seamless extension of the home, with playful sloping timber sides that open it up to a broader view and more natural light. If Patchwork had substituted these triangular wing walls for full screens, the outdoor areas would feel confined. If removed entirely, the home’s height – 12 metres at its peak – would feel exaggerated, even slightly unnerving.
Understandably, this elevation and tricky terrain led to a complex construction process that played out in phases. First, the builders laid a concrete foundation before erecting scaffolding around its perimeter. They then craned the cross-brace frames down into that void, bolting them in place to form a steel skeleton for the builders to work within. The site’s location, on a busy commuter road, added to the complexity of the build. “Anything that got delivered would have to be done quickly, out of a van, or we’d have to pay thousands to stop traffic,” says Ben. “So we were relieved when it all measured up as we’d hoped.”
If Patchwork had gone by the book and designed a home within the District Plan restrictions, it wouldn’t look, feel or function like this. The Nest serves the site, its owners, potential expansion, and any future neighbours. “Those rules are intended to protect neighbours’ sun and light, but we were the first home on the hill, so we just had to make the argument that the design would have minimal impact on anyone else – even if they were to build after the fact,” says Sally. The result is a compelling case for straying from convention. “We knew we were essentially picking a fight with the council on this, and it would mean a lot more work for us,” she continues. “But it simply had to be done.”
1. Carport
2. Entry
3. Kitchen
4. Dining
5. Deck
6. Living
7. Snug
8. Bedroom
9. Outdoor Room
10. Laundry
11. Linen
12. Bathroom
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