Privileged Praxis: Antipodean Perspectives on the Need for an Architecture of Community
Disclaimer: This article may contain references or images of deceased Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander persons.
Cruel but kind – Architectural Exclusion on Colonial Foundations
Architecture in Australia often conceals its colonial origins, positioning itself as an apolitical discipline concerned with aesthetics and craft. Yet, architecture is inherently political, shaping people's experiences.1 The discipline's emphasis on spectacle and awards prioritises recognition over societal needs, neglecting marginalised communities.2
Architectural hierarchies entrench elite networks, sustaining inequity in the profession and the built environment. In building on unceded Indigenous lands, architecture upholds settler-colonial structures, fostering practices that silence Indigenous perspectives.3 By examining recent Australian projects on self-determination and inclusivity, this article advocates reorienting architecture from exclusivity toward community-driven design that emphasises equity and meaningful collaboration navigating the complex interplay of political, economic, and stakeholder influences.4
In The Australian Ugliness (1960), Robin Boyd critiques Australian architecture, coining 'featurism' to describe its superficiality.5 Boyd's critique extends beyond architecture, suggesting that the superficiality of Australian design mirrors contradictions and cruelty in its political and social policies.6 At the essence of this critique lies Australian ambivalence, captured in his observation: "Cruel but kind, a precise description of one element in the pervasive ambivalence of the national character."7
To understand Australian architecture, we must comprehend Australia's colonial legacy, marked by the British invasion in 1788 under the false doctrine of Terra Nullius ("land belonging to no one").8 The invasion displaced Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, erasing much of their rich cultural and built environments—yet today, these cultures endure.9 The architecture, rooted in connections to Country and shaped by diverse environments, was erased to justify European settlement.10 As Paul Memmott notes, this architectural erasure was central to colonial strategy, denying the existence of pre-existing architectural inhabitation that refuted Terra Nullius.11
These exclusionary practices were compounded by political decisions and economic interests prioritising profit over people, with developers, landlords, and contractors influencing what gets built, where, and for whom. Understanding these colonial underpinnings is crucial as they continue to shape architectural practice and education. This legacy of exclusion and privilege persists in Australia's architectural education system, warranting closer examination.
Sandstone Gatekeepers – Privilege and Exclusion in Australian Architectural Education
Architectural education in Australia aligns with elite institutions rooted in colonial privilege. The 'Sandstone Universities' symbolise colonial heritage in architecture and education.12 Located in affluent areas, these institutions primarily attract privileged students, reinforcing social elitism.13 Australia's class-segregated schools grant privileged students access to influential networks. As Bri Lee observes, these students often attribute their success to effort alone, ignoring systemic barriers others face,14 showing a disconnect and lack of empathy for less privileged backgrounds.15
The public-private divide deepens inequality, restricting opportunities for underrepresented students. Excessive entry requirements, especially in architecture, limit diversity. A recent Australian Institute of Architects (AIA) survey found over half of the responding architects attended private schools, compared to 36% in the general population.16 Current data on architecture students is limited.17 Recognising students' socioeconomic, cultural, and ethnic backgrounds is crucial. Students from diverse and marginalised backgrounds often feel alienated and lack support networks.18
Government funding and educational policies often favour established institutions, perpetuating inequities. For disadvantaged students, achieving average income levels can take four generations.19 The high cost of architectural education and unpaid internships exclude those without means, entrenching privilege. Recognising these barriers is not enough. Architectural education must transform to decolonise pedagogies and challenge homogeneity.
Decolonising Architectural Education – Addressing Antiquated Pedagogies and Homogeneity
Rashida Ng, in "What Will it Take?", reflects on the lack of inclusion in architectural education, noting most pedagogies are rooted in outdated Eurocentric models,20 following the French Beaux-Arts model, prioritising individualism over collaboration.21 This fosters a hierarchical culture that privileges those who master its customs and jargon.22 It reinforces the professionalisation of vocabulary over ethical practice, alienating architects from the communities they serve.23
This outdated approach disadvantages students from culturally and linguistically diverse backgrounds.24 The intense workload, expectation of 'all-nighters,' and competitive nature pressure students with work or family commitments,25 leading to higher attrition rates and disillusionment.26 The master-apprentice dynamic valorises 'talent' while reinforcing homogeneity, overlooking the collaborative nature of practice.27 As Peggy Deamer aptly notes, "It takes an army."28 Success in academia often depends on social, economic, and cultural capital that privileges certain groups (read: white, male, and middle-upper class) from birth to memoriam.29 Fostering expectations that students must conform to the privileged ideal of how an architect should look, speak, and think.30
Recent efforts to decolonise Australian architectural education signal change.31 In 2022, the Architects Accreditation Council of Australia introduced new competencies for engaging with First Nations knowledge, prompting schools to rethink curricula.32 The University of Melbourne redesigned its postgraduate studio to engage with cultural advisors, fostering collaboration in designing with, not for, communities. Initiatives like cohort-wide symposiums and the Yalinguth33 walking tour with cultural advisors introduce previously absent concepts such as place and power, host-guest relations, material ecologies, positionality, and designing with Country. Encouraging students to question the framing of First Nations peoples.34
However, challenges remain. The revised studio model still prioritises objects evaluated by Eurocentric grading.35 Students often struggle with hypothetical design solutions to real-world 'wicked problems,' leading some to conclude design is not always the appropriate method. This critical mindset emerges as students examine their positionality with the systemic structures underpinning architecture.
Despite this, some students find it challenging to move beyond stereotypical representations, underscoring the need for deeper engagement with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures. Instances within the redesigned studio of students using generative AI to create aestheticised 'Indigenous' personas instead of engaging with actual communities,36 or designing projects insensitive to historical contexts of Indigenous oppression, highlight the urgent necessity to decolonise architectural education.37 As Lesley Lokko emphasises, this process is pressing – yet requires time.38 Many studio tutors, often trained within traditional frameworks, lack the cultural competencies to navigate these 'decolonised' pedagogies.
Architectural education and institutional structures must undergo profound yet incremental transformation to address these tensions without further exploitation. Educational institutions often prioritise marketability and prestige over inclusivity, driven by competition for funding and student enrollment coupled with a scarcity of resources to support marginalised students and hire educators versed in decolonised pedagogies. Linda Tuhiwai Smith explains that 'cultural extraction' - taking elements of Indigenous knowledge and recontextualising them for institutional gain, detaches them from their original meanings.39 Curriculum changes must address the cultural load placed on Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander advisors involved in decolonising efforts, contributing to shifting the discipline from the architects' agenda to those of the wider community.40
As Alexis Gregory states, "Empathy and ethics cannot start in the profession but must first be taught in architecture programmes to prepare students to work in a global society with people vastly different than they are."41 While reforming educational structures is a vital first step, these efforts must extend into professional practice. Decolonising architecture isn't solely an academic exercise; it requires a radical shift in how the profession operates and engages with communities.
Decolonising Architectural Practice
As Jeremy Till highlights, decolonising architectural practice requires more than superficial representation.42 As elsewhere in the post-colonial world, Australian architecture grapples with the tendency toward superficial engagement with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures. Only 1% of architects identify as Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander, while they represent 3.8% of the population.43 Indigenous names and symbols are often incorporated into projects without genuine consultation. This superficiality reveals the failure to integrate Indigenous knowledge.44
An example of tokenistic engagement is The Barak Building,45 previously titled Portrait by Ashton Raggatt McDougall (ARM).46 The building depicts Wurundjeri elder and land rights activist William Barak across its commercial facade. Yet, the architects admitted they did not intend to engage in "deep cultural consultation."47 The Barak Building exemplifies commodification, reducing Indigenous symbolism to aesthetic branding. As Spencer argues, superficial engagement reinforces exclusion.48 Architects may feel pressured to conform to demands prioritising profit over community needs, limiting their ability to advocate for culturally appropriate designs. This echoes Aboriginal architecture student Linda Kennedy, who criticised the project's lack of engagement at a public event. Her concerns were dismissed by the event's moderator, who derided them as "a mix of unsubstantiated opinions, generalisations, conservative art historicism, pedantry, and fiction, topped off with some racial profiling for good measure."49 Although the discourse is slowly changing, it is consistently resisted.
Appropriating Indigenous symbols without consultation reflects deeper professional issues, where architecture risks reducing Indigenous culture to aesthetics instead of respecting it as a living system.50 It undermines the significance of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures. ARM's past work, like the Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies featuring a black replica of Villa Savoye and the Indigenous wing of the Australian National Museum (mirroring Libeskind's Jewish Museum Berlin), also repeat this tension.51 While offering cultural commentary, their reliance on surface symbolism limits their impact, underscoring the need for meaningful collaboration. Although these critiques expose the colonial foundations of Australian architecture, meaningful change can be achieved through community-led design.52 Recent projects show how Indigenous knowledge and collaboration reshape architecture, ensuring cultural sensitivity and social equity. To illustrate this potential, we examine projects embodying these principles.
Wilya Janta (Standing Strong) Housing Collaboration – A Culturally Aligned Housing Model
The Wilya Janta (Standing Strong) Housing Collaboration counters exclusionary practices. Led by the Warumungu people of Tennant Creek, it exemplifies decolonised, community-driven architecture. The project embeds cultural protocols, reciprocity, and self-determination, ensuring homes reflect the Warumungu people's values and needs.
Government-imposed housing schemes fail to respect cultural needs and environmental realities, reinforcing settler-colonial structures.53 Cultural leader Norman Frank Jupurrurla observed, 'Government houses… are not made for my climate.'54 Wilya Janta directly addresses these failures. The Warumungu took ownership, driving a bottom-up approach committed to co-design; Architects OFFICE and Troppo Architects acted as facilitators, with the Warumungu guiding every decision. Creating a collaborative space where Indigenous (Wumpurrarni) and non-Indigenous (Papulinyi) knowledge systems informed a scalable model of equitable collaboration.55
Architects played a secondary role, translating the community's vision into built form. The homes embody cultural sensitivity and climate resilience. Tennant Creek experiences temperatures above 50°C, and passive cooling features like verandas and breezeways reduce the need for air conditioning. Integrated solar power systems further ensure long-term energy independence and sustainability. As Dr Simon Quilty highlights, energy insecurity (often prepaid) is severe for remote communities: 'On average, a house disconnects from power every fourth to fifth day.'56
Jupurrurla described these homes as "Mukunjungu Papulu"—"smart houses" designed for hot weather through Gwarda (sensory awareness and ecological intellect). "We need breezeways to catch the wind… Houses for our climate and for our culture."57 The homes incorporate multiple bathrooms to accommodate extended families, align sleeping areas with spiritual protocols, facilitate seasonal food production, and feature house smoking rituals for spiritual cleansing, keeping cultural practices at the heart of daily life for both residents and visitors.58 The project addresses endemic health issues. Inadequate housing continues to contribute to chronic health problems due to overcrowding and poor ventilation. By improving ventilation and reducing heat exposure, Wilya Janta homes foster healthier living conditions, essential for resident well-being.59
A defining moment in the project was the rediscovery of a dormant brick-making machine, enabling the local community to produce bricks using local materials like anthill and spinifex. This approach not only reduced costs but also strengthened the connection to Country, created employment opportunities, and embedded the community's identity into the very fabric of the homes.60
Another critical shift is utilising a Community Land Trust (CLT) model, which ensures the Warumungu people retain long-term control over their land and housing decisions. The CLT model offers a replicable framework for challenging top-down decision-making that undermines Indigenous self-determination.61 It counters the colonial practice of dispossession, ensuring future housing developments continue to meet community needs rather than conform to shifting government priorities.62 Government policies currently do not support the CLT model, and developers may resist approaches that challenge traditional ownership and profit structures. Overcoming these obstacles requires systemic change and advocacy at multiple levels.63
Despite its successes, the Wilya Janta project faces challenges in scalability. Securing funding for community-led initiatives is often difficult, as political and economic systems favour conventional development models. Additionally, the time-intensive nature of genuine community engagement can be a deterrent for stakeholders with an agenda that results in quick returns on investment. Wilya Janta seeks to counter this by providing an example of economically viable, replicable, culturally appropriate housing.64
Wilya Janta is a living example of decolonising architecture, challenging the profession's neglect of Indigenous knowledge. It offers a model for future practice that centres on community agency, cultural protocols, and environmental sustainability. The project demonstrates that when communities lead, architecture becomes a tool for empowerment, cultural resilience, and long-term health.
Kaunitz Yeung Architecture – Community-Led, Culturally Responsive Practice
Kaunitz Yeung Architecture also exemplifies a community-driven design approach grounded in equity and self-determination. Founded by David Kaunitz and Ka Wai Yeung, the firm embraces two-way learning, collaborating closely with remote Indigenous communities to co-create spaces that integrate cultural values with practical needs. Rejecting the hierarchical, top-down practices standard in Australian architecture, the firm's process ensures that community voices remain central at every stage.
The Puntukurnu Aboriginal Medical Service (PAMS) Clinic in Newman, completed in 2020, exemplifies this approach. Operated by an Aboriginal-run not-for-profit, the clinic serves local communities and replicates similar clinics at Jigalong, Parnngurr, Punmu, and Kunawarritji. The project reflects the firm's commitment to cultural respect, community empowerment, and sustainability—principles that directly challenge exclusionary practices. Through an iterative consultation process, Kaunitz Yeung ensures that cultural protocols are embedded at every stage, fostering meaningful community ownership. As David Kaunitz explains, "You must acknowledge what you do not know and open yourself up to two-way learning."65 This philosophy ensures that the project is co-created with, not merely for, the community. Martu elders, representatives from all four local desert communities, and Newman residents participated throughout the process, from the initial design to post-occupancy.
The clinic's layout reflects Aboriginal cultural protocols, such as avoidance practices, by including gender-specific spaces and private areas. This deep engagement goes beyond surface-level representations or tokenistic gestures. As Kaunitz highlights, "In each project, we let the community determine how they would like culture and Country to be represented."66 Art screens created by local artists function as decorative elements and cultural artefacts, embedding stories, traditions, and gender-specific cultural roles into the built environment.
The PAMS Clinic at Newman offers more than healthcare—it catalyses communal autonomy, helping the community remain on Country. In the past, Indigenous residents in Newman avoided healthcare services due to a lack of culturally sensitive care, leaving essential treatment out of reach. The new clinic provides a vital alternative, delivering daily services that previously required a 12-hour (1,186 km) journey to the nearest capital city. The clinic promotes community cohesion and reinforces the connection between well-being, place, and cultural identity by eliminating the burden of long-distance medical travel. Designed to reflect community values, it has successfully increased engagement with healthcare services, leading to significantly improved health outcomes.67
The community has embraced the clinic, with participation rates soaring since its opening. The clinics' success builds on the legacy of similar work by Paul Pholeros, who advocated for architecture as a tool to address environmental, social, and health challenges through community-driven solutions, a philosophy that Kaunitz Yeung continues to uphold.68
Kaunitz Yeung's design philosophy prioritises sustainability, integrating cultural protocols of caring for Country. Constructed from local rammed earth, the PAMS Clinic connects the architecture to its environment while leveraging thermal mass to minimise the need for artificial cooling during hotter months.69 Powered by solar energy and supported by rainwater harvesting, the clinic meets current needs while embodying hopes for future generations, symbolising community resilience and continuity. Indigenous philosophies of stewardship and sustainability are reflected in the design, with over 4,000 endemic plants contributing to the ecological restoration of the former mining town.70
While Kaunitz Yeung Architecture's projects are exemplary, they rely heavily on the firm's commitment and may not be easily replicated by others lacking similar dedication or resources. Additionally, their approach requires significant time investment and may face financial constraints, as not all clients or stakeholders are willing to support such intensive community engagement. The broader industry often prioritises cost-efficiency and speed over deep collaboration. Contractors and developers may resist approaches that increase project timelines and perceived risks or challenge conventional profit models, limiting the adoption of community-driven practices.
A key outcome of Kaunitz Yeung's approach is the strong sense of ownership it cultivates within the community. The firm ensures the space reflects community values by involving members throughout the design and construction process. This sense of ownership fosters long-term care for the facility, encouraging sustained engagement and contributing to improved health outcomes and a deeper connection to place.71
As Kaunitz summarises, "Success is measured by how the community uses and values the space, not just by how it looks."72 This reflection underscores a shift in Australian architecture, with younger architects embracing values that address future challenges.73 The PAMS Clinic exemplifies how community-led design, cultural sensitivity, and sustainability can reshape environments and outcomes. By prioritising deep collaboration and two-way learning, Kaunitz Yeung Architecture offers a transformative path forward—designing with, not for, communities.
Reimagining Architecture with Community
Over fifty years after Robin Boyd's The Australian Ugliness critiqued Australian architecture's superficiality, the profession still grapples with colonial legacies rooted in Terra Nullius and the erasure of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures. This struggle underscores the urgent need to overcome privilege and marginalisation.
Globally, nations are reckoning with colonial histories in architecture, highlighting a universal need for meaningful, community-led design. Architecture must move beyond tokenism, embracing community autonomy, cultural sensitivity, and sustainability. Educational institutions must carefully integrate Indigenous knowledge and foster diverse voices, while practitioners must shift from designing for communities to creating with them, embracing roles as facilitators and partners. Community-led projects like Wilya Janta and the practices of Kaunitz Yeung Architecture exemplify this transformative approach by integrating Indigenous knowledge with collaborative design to create spaces that truly serve and help their communities thrive.
Realising such a transformation is challenging and requires systemic change and a commitment to continuous relearning. We must address longstanding privilege and heed the warnings of scholars like Linda Tuhiwai Smith, who cautions against "cultural extraction." By normalising community-led practices and embedding equity and inclusivity into all aspects of architecture, we can begin dismantling colonial structures and building a more equitable society.
Achieving such transformation necessitates addressing entrenched economic models, political frameworks, and industry practices prioritising profit over people. Architects alone cannot enact change without the cooperation of developers, policymakers, and communities. Acknowledging the shared responsibility, we can collectively work towards an architecture that embodies equity and inclusivity. It's imperative for all involved to question existing norms and commit to continuous learning and adaptation. Shedding the "cruel but kind" ambivalence will allow architecture to redefine itself as a meaningful partner for empowerment and equity. Only then will our built environment reflect and serve our diverse communities, shifting from building for to building with.