 | RADARCOMPETITION 2 Reconciling this place. SueAnne Ware assesses the outcomes of Canberra’s Reconciliation Place competition.
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In May 2000 Prime Minister John Howard
announced that, as a gesture of the
Government’s commitment to the ongoing
reconciliation process, it would support a
reconciliation square in Canberra. The
National Capital Authority and a steering
committee of local Ngun(n)awal and national
Aboriginal representatives then developed
the Reconciliation Place Competition brief.
The prominent site, in the heart of the
Capital axis, elevates the significance of
Reconciliation Place as a commemorative
public space. The brief specified a broad
range of reconciliation objectives and a
number of suggested themes. It also asked
that the work consider its adjacency to the
Commonwealth Place site and be sensitive
to the larger framework of the Parliamentary
Zone. Thirty-six entries were submitted and
the jury selected seven commendations, two
second place entries and one winner.
The NBC Aboriginal Corporation, one of
the second place winners, proposed an
event where “communities gather and work
together for the future…. listening, talking,
laughing, creating, story telling, knowledge
sharing”. This involves “free flowing” spaces spread across the landscape with no pre-determined
outcomes. The designers assert
that “reconciliation is a process not a
product… an activity not a memorial”. While
these intentions are inspirational, they
remain in the realm of ideas. To realise this
entry one would first have to define
“community” – who participates, who
doesn’t, who gets priority and so on. Given
that anything built within the Parliamentary
Zone has to be approved by Parliament, the
unfortunate answer is whomever the Federal
Parliament felt was appropriate. Even if an
equitable method of choosing “community” was discovered, who determines what
materials are then selected, which forms are
created, and what happens when the
unavoidable staking out of turf via cultural
interest groups occurs? It could be an
interesting process of negotiation at best, a
repeat of dispossessing those who hold less
power at worst. However, by denying pre-determined
form, the design makes a
statement about flexibility in the rules we set
for ourselves. Perhaps the greatest strength
of this response is the openness which
allows any number of things to occur.
The other second place scheme, by
Taylor Cullity and Lethlean, consists of layers
of landscape allegories. Organised through
four metaphors – the Healing Stone, Paths
of Rediscovery, the Sea of Reconciliation,
and the Field of Hope – this plan-generated
project navigates the visitor through a series
of thematic spaces. Entering from the east
or west, one encounters a framework of
locating markers which denote the 390
Aboriginal Australian regions or language
groups. A map assists visitors to find their
own “path of rediscovery” by discovering the
Aboriginal land on which they live. The
markers take on solid form only when
reconciliation is acknowledged by the
Indigenous people of the particular region.
But just how does a community decide it
has been reconciled? The Healing Stone,
described as both wound and scar, is a very
long linear stone axis that can be used as a
bench. Water (a metaphor for blood) and
recorded voices of Aboriginal Australians (in
both English and their native languages)
flow from its centre. Finally, the Field of
Hope occupies the centre of the site.
Dedicated to the local Ngun(n)awal people, it is described as “outstretched mounds
reaching out to touch each other”. Within
the cavity created by the earthworks are
local native seedlings planted by visitors and
a ceremonial fire in the centre of the axis.
This scheme relies on expectations about
how people participate and understand
landscape gestures. Yet there is no complex
investigation of the way different cultures
read symbols and metaphors. The strength
of this proposal is that it calls for rituals and
interaction – a participatory outcome which
could engage the nation. But the forms and
metaphors seem to rely too heavily on a
literal interpretation of reconciliation.
The most striking aspect of the winning
entry, by Simon Kringas and colleagues, is
its scale. A very large promenade connects
the National Library and National Gallery. Its
geometry is part of the existing formal
framework of the Parliamentary Triangle.
Vertical slivers are strewn along the
promenade which rises subtly to a mound at
the central axis of Commonwealth Place.
Paths through the slivers offer multiple
readings and multiple journeys. There is no
singular way through. The slivers seem almost random, but strategic in the way they
respond to adjacent buildings. They are
added over time – as reconciliation occurs it
can be reflected in the landscape. However
the design does not address the critical
issue of what is on the slivers, nor the
process of how the information is selected.
The NCA will most likely set a series of
guidelines for them. The actual procedure of
sliver approval is also somewhat concerning;
both Houses of the Parliament need to
approve each of them. Thus, they ultimately
choose which history, which text, and which
image is appropriate. This is disturbing given
their track record. The formal outcome of
the proposition is somewhat minimal, with
strong spatial consequences. It is fairly
flexible in terms of how the splinters are
developed and offers a critical landscape
integrated into the Parliamentary Triangle
fabric. However, it doesn’t necessarily
participate in larger urban conversations. It
seems a missed opportunity not to consider
how the slivers may find their way into the
tent embassy as shelters, or to the new
National Museum of Australia’s Garden of
Australian Dreams, or even as mundane landscape objects (bus shelters, signage,
etc.) scattered throughout Canberra.
Of the seven commended proposals, two
offer very interesting ways of thinking about
reconciliation. Room 4.1.3/UWA’s entry
offers an urban design scale gesture with a
“microcosm of the land itself, something
understood by and something fundamental
to everyone – the earth of Australia,
reconciliation’s common ground”. From
Commonwealth Place to Common Ground,
the proposition continues the land axis
through sculpted landforms that engage
with crucial views and frame a central
space. This space contains soil types,
collected by the community from each of
Australia’s 390 regions, arranged in an east
west spectrum. This proposition involves
landscape metaphors, yet it is somewhat
speculative and ironic in its gestures. The
design allows new interpretations of the
physical environment as perceived through
cultural or political maps in both indigenous
and non-indigenous cultures.
The Corrigan entry is truly innovative. A
large square of indigenous grasses is
bisected by a diagonally aligned path. The site is intentionally “out of alignment with
the order perpetuated by the Parliamentary
Triangle”. The path points at the High
Courts, demanding it enact changes in
legislation that will ensure acceptable
representation for Aboriginal Australians. A
series of large-scale images, burnt into the
area, can be seen from both Parliament
House and the National War Museum – two
very prominent tourist destinations. The
images are selected by the local Indigenous
community – it is their voice in the end.
While at first glance this scheme may seem
a one-off gesture, it has richness and a
boldness which cannot be ignored. It allows
a constant state of flux or transformation of
both landscape and culture. It uses
landscape processes (controlled burning,
revegetation) to inform a progressive
memorial gesture. The formal resolution
stays true to the designers’ assertions that
“Aboriginal culture is an elusive concept and
resists a cohesive definition” while also
negotiating an act of reconciliation.
Other agendas became evident when the
winning schemes were publicised. The
project was immediately rejected by the Aboriginal tent embassy as a conspiracy to
undermine and eventually replace the tent
embassy. Aboriginal Affairs Minister Phillip
Ruddock replied that this was the intention,
but that it was ultimately up to the embassy
itself. In a city like Canberra where memorial
objects line Anzac Parade and official
memory is built for the nation to read, the
tent embassy operates as a counter-memorial.
In addition to being a site of
protests, the tent embassy recognises the
strength and perseverance of Aboriginal
culture, and demands that things must
change. Thus, it seems necessary that the
official Reconciliation Place must sit along
side the tent embassy, offering alternative
views on the reconciliation process and
hope for its future. The overall strength of
the intentions behind Reconciliation Place is
perhaps summed up by Annabelle Pegrum,
chief executive of the NCA: “Australia and its
people are profoundly affected by these
things. The discussions and debates which
occur as a result of this process help the
nation grow in its intelligence.”
SueAnne Ware is a senior lecturer in
landscape architecture at RMIT University.
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