Within the vast, untouched mountainscape of The Crown Range, a rugged landscape with a 700m elevation located near New Zealand’s Queenstown, architects Keshaw McArthur have designed Openfield House, a geometric low-slung structure in dialogue with its environment, creating an authentic connection — and in a sense, heightening — the surrounding landscape.

Designed by Keshaw McArthur, the husband-wife architectural duo hold a deep reverence and sensibility for space, material and nature, gently interweaving each to create deeply considered designs. The duo previously worked in Japan for some of the country’s most talented architects before returning back to their home country of New Zealand to establish their own practice.

Openfield House examples their design approach of an essential understanding of connection to the earth, nature and the human condition, creating communal spaces and intentional sliding glass doors and skylights to both naturally ventilate, illuminate and frame the pronounced seasonal variations of the site.

Champ Editor Joanna Kawecki spoke with Co-Founding Director & Architect Katrina Keshaw on the design approach, where she explains, “Critical emphasis was placed on a raw, authentic material palette — the textures and tones of which were a cohesive integration of concrete, natural stone and weathered cedar, establishing the sense that this building has always existed as a permanent fixture of the landscape.”

ALA CHAMP: What was the initial brief provided by the clients when they approach you for the project?

KESHAW MCARTHUR: The clients were interested in a modest country house that provided flexibility for their blended family as well as to allow for hosting of friends to the beautiful region. Central to the initial brief was a primal way of living – the clients were drawn to this region for their love of being outdoors (walking, mountain biking, snow sports etc) and to be one with the immediate and wider natural environment including a love of log fires, utilising the land for growing food, and bathing in the fresh water stream that runs through the site. A particular requirement was for communal living and cooking areas for up to 16 people, and the ritual of cooking, eating and cleaning up communally were central to the founding concepts of the design.

When viewing the site, what were your main priorities for the structure?

The site has a strong energy, perched up on a geographical terrace overlooking the greater region of Tāhuna/Queenstown, and surrounded by mountainscape as far as the eye can see. We knew there needed to be a radial response to the design – a building with a centre.

In a landscape whereby the natural beauty is so easily disturbed by the presence of built structures, we formed a clear idea early on of the importance for this building to contribute to the overall composition of the land in a way that is confident, yet sensitive and harmonious. With this approach, we hope this house will serve for many years as a place of exchange between it’s inhabitants – owners and numerous guests – while also allowing the surrounding natural environment of the Crown Range to continue to be enjoyed by the public.

Can you detail a bit more about the site’s remote environment?

The site is situated on the Crown Terrace, an elevated plateau at 700m altitude, in the foothills of the Crown Range. The Terrace is located 25 minutes from Queenstown airport, New Zealand’s fourth busiest terminal, and a further 15 minutes from Queenstown, a bustling snow resort town with a population of just under 30,000 people. The quaint township of Arrowtown, an historic gold mining town sits at the base of the Terrace. Crown Terrace and greater Queenstown region has been largely pastoral since European settlement, with a mixture of active farm land and large residential plots with grassy plains.

What type of wind or light direction site analysis did you conduct? How did you consider all seasons?

Unlike the northern regions of Aotearoa New Zealand, Queenstown is known for its pronounced seasonal variations. Summers are dry and hot; autumns rich in colour and texture; winters are cold with heavy snow; while spring is spring – new life and a field of green returns. We analysed the site numerous times throughout the year – charting its features and characteristics during each of the seasons. With its radial plan, the house’s relationship to the sun evolves throughout the day. The rooms of the house were arranged to have unique interactions with the ephemeral, natural elements. Bedrooms and bathrooms positioned to capture the morning sun, while the common spaces provide the warmth of afternoon and evening light – places to relax after a day outdoors. The west facing summer room, stays cool during the harshness of the summer sun, then lights up as it turns to evening with the red setting sun; while the winter room sits on the north-west corner of the house and captures the warm winter sun. Mounding and planting on the site mitigates the cold north-easterly wind when needed.

What are the main materials you used, and why?

A central concept of the design was the establishment of a dialogue with the natural environment. This formed the principles which guided the material selection and finishing throughout the project – including a hierarchy in regards to the material mass, prioritisation of materials of quality and durability, and embracing of material honestly and resistance to a reliance on application. The considered material restraint is in service to a hierarchy of elements; the approach to materiality and construction is based on the abstract idea that if the lightweight elements were ever to come down, that which remains would be a ruin of stone objects rising from the ground. With the site’s harsh weather conditions and extreme exposure to the elements, a conscious approach was taken to selecting exterior materials with an ability to naturally patinate, and possessing a high level of durability, a passive approach with the aim of reducing maintenance costs over the life of the building.

Critical emphasis is placed on a raw, authentic material palette the textures and tones of which are a cohesive integration of concrete, natural stone and weathered cedar, establishing the sense that this building has always existed as a permanent fixture of the landscape. The colour palette was carefully derived from the tones of the surrounding landscape, the efforts of which are most visible in a pigmented concrete featured heavily throughout the project. A desaturated mauve hue was selected as a reference to the colours of the mountains under the atmospheric haze unique to the region and was refined through an iterative process of testing and sampling. The external environment set up the framework for the interior colours, with purple Porphyry stone complementing the concrete floors and walls in the kitchen and bathrooms.

What were the main constraints or challenges during this project?

The colour of the concrete was to be monolithic from exterior to interior, floor to wall. With natural concrete, the aggregate and sands produce the final colour which tends to have a regional outcome.

In our case, we utilised oxide to achieve the desired colouration and finish. The various factors of the sand, aggregate, oxide and subtle environmental conditions however can vastly influence the appearance of cast in-situ concrete. Due to the remoteness of the site, and difficult road access, the planning and coordination of the concrete work was challenging in order to minimise inconsistencies and achieve a consistent appearance throughout.

How did you approach the height and expanse of measurements for rooms — were there any specific intentions in your approach for each space?

Arranged within a nine-square grid, interior spaces have a rationalised scale and set of dimensions correlating to the range of activities which may take place within. While highly considered in terms of scale, the spaces are generally without specific function, allowing flexibility dependant on the occupant’s needs. The grid facilitates the opening, closing and joining of interior spaces further contributing to the free movement of space. The plan establishes a continuous field, within which several heavy concrete volumes provide grounded-ness among the collection of interchangeable spaces.

The scale of spaces on the ground floor are unified through a consistent datum running along at the top of door and window level. This is kept intentionally low to maintain tension with the ground plane so as to allow engagement with the surrounding landscape. Above this, the spaces are expansive up into the underside of the pyramidal roof. While the ground floor spaces reach out laterally into the environment, the upstairs spaces extend vertically towards the sky and Crown Range mountains above through the glazed roof openings.

Located in a remote area, are there any off-grid sustainable utilities integrated in the house?

The site itself has an alpine stream running through it, with fresh water from the mountains flowing throughout the year. Small amounts of this are collected and stored for use onsite.

While the Terrace has access to local mains electrical infrastructure, all wastewater is treated and disposed of onsite. The roof was designed to feed rainwater straight back into the land while mounding of the land around the home disperses water from the mountains, away from the home. 

What other design references did you include in the design?

The utilitarian and singular nature of the roof draws reference from historical structures of the region, such as gold miner’s huts and agricultural sheds. Integration of building services directly within the concrete, with minimisation of material application, establishes a raw and honest relationship between how the building has been constructed and how it is used – in this sense the building subtlety references primal structures, such as caves and in-ground dwellings of the past.

If you were to reference a book or passage describing the design or atmosphere of the project, what would it be?

The following excerpt from Juhani Pallasmaa’s ‘The Eyes of the Skin – Architecture and the Senses’ feels like it has some resonance with this project for us, and captures an ephemeral aspect of what we were seeking to achieve.

“The most essential auditory experience created by architecture is tranquillity. Architecture presents the drama of construction silenced into matter, space and light. Ultimately, architecture is the art of petrified silence… The incredible acceleration of speed during the last century has collapsed time into the flat screen of the present, upon which the simultaneity of the world is projected. As time loses its duration, and its echo in the primordial past, man loses his sense of self as a historical being, and is threatened by the ‘terror of time’. Architecture emancipates us from the embrace of the present and allows us to experience the slow, healing flow of time. Buildings and cities are instruments and museums of time. They enable us to see and understand the passing of history and to participate in time cycles that surpass individual life”

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Text: Joanna Kawecki
Images: © Biddi Rowley