Anya Jeanes (AJ): How did you decide on a career in architecture and design? Were there any early influences?

Ben Tunui (BT): I don’t think I have ever truly unpacked this question, it was a bit of a random decision. I decided to take graphics on a whim in my final year of school, after not really pursuing any creative outlets during that time. But it really appealed to me that I could sit in class and just draw and problem solve for that short amount of time every day — like, you’re telling me I can sit here, spin a yarn and draw for school credit? Sounds good.

When I was about 5 years old, my parents also undertook a sizable renovation to our house, so I guess I was exposed to the idea of architecture and building at that age. My father was an accountant by trade — now a lecturer at Te Kawa a Māui, the Māori studies department at Te Herenga Waka, and my mother is/was a lawyer and is now a judge in the Māori Land Court — neither occupation typically seen as “creative”. But my sister studied fashion design and I studied architecture, which I attribute to my parents giving us a colourful upbringing.

AJ: Where did you study architecture?

BT: I studied at Te Herenga Waka Victoria University of Wellington for six years. I gained my Bachelors in Interior Design, followed by a Graduate Diploma in Designed Environments and then a Master’s in Architecture.

I enjoy staying connected to the university, doing a bit of tutoring and lecturing here and there. I feel that it’s important for practitioners to stay connected to their institutions to tautoko our next generations of designers, and to keep a finger on the pulse of the cultural zeitgeist as it pertains to design and architecture.

AJ: While studying, you won the 2020 Te Kāhui Whaihanga Resene Student Design Awards with your project ‘Utu - Restoring Balance’. What did this project mean to you and how does that continue to influence your design philosophy?

BT: My thesis was all encompassing for me. It stemmed from a lot of frustration in relation to not being able to express my Māoritanga for a large part of my time at university. The thesis became a vehicle for that form of radical self expression. It was really quite cathartic at the time.

I would like to pay respect to my supervisor Chris McDonald, who, although being tangata Tiriti, provided valuable insight into how I could make my thesis understandable to those who may not be directly related to Māori culture. I was lucky to have a wealth of people in my personal life, such as my mum and dad, who I could lean on for mātauranga Māori — they both work within that space.

I still fervently believe that the outcomes of the thesis can help to inform Māori spatial generation at a conceptual level. Rather than crafting a building based on our rational understanding of tikanga Māori spatially — let the patterns of our sacred rituals create the building by themselves, with us simply being the conduit for realising this.

AJ: How long have you been at Etch Architecture and what projects have you worked on? What projects are you most proud of?

BT: I have been at Etch Architecture for about a year and a half now and thoroughly enjoy my mahi here. One project that we are currently working on is Te Paepae o te Raukura, or Takitūtū Marae in Parihaka, completely redeveloping the marae to better suit the people there. My first job out of university was with Tennent Brown Architects, and I worked on some great projects there. I think the project I am most proud of is based there, Te Whare Hononga. Designed by Hugh Tennent and Brenda Solon, I had a very small piece to play in the design work itself but this project had deep family ties for me — my grandfather had a role to play in the coming about of the project so to be a part of its delivery was an honour.

AJ: What is your approach to design and what inspires your practice?

BT: As a kid, I used to have a box of different kinds of hats and I called it my “funny hat collection” and, as a designer, I like to think that I still have a collection of hats for any occasion.

When working on kaupapa Māori projects, it’s about putting on my listening hat and tuning into the valuable kōrero shared by the māngai of the iwi/group we might be working with at the time, and responding to that kōrero through thoughtful design.

At Etch, I am given the licence to wear my design hat on all projects I work on here. The approach is that everyone has a right to experience good architecture, no matter your budget or preference, responding to client wishes and working with them to achieve the best possible outcome on their project. I find this approach to be in line with my beliefs about design — that, no matter the scale or budget, I want to provide a professional and personal service to the client. This has been a huge lesson to me in my time here.

I also believe that in order to provide the best outcome possible, relationships have to be the foundation from which the project can be realised, and both forming and maintaining those relationships gain equal weight in the process.

AJ: What are the challenges about working in architecture?

BT: I think one of the most challenging aspects of architecture is being able to stay focused on a particular task for a project that you have in front of you, while staying cognisant of the plethora of moving parts in other aspects of that project — or even other projects. Architecture is a union of big picture ideas and minute-scale details, and being able to pull a project together is a really difficult thing.

Communication is also an all-encompassing skill that needs to be practiced in order to find success — whether that be within the office, with your client or with any consultant you may be working with. Making sure that everyone is on the same page as a project progresses is such a necessary skill.

AJ: What would be a dream project?

BT: It would be a dream to implement the same design methodology used in my thesis to design a building. I think the type of building and its context would ultimately have to inform the process of the methodology but, yeah, that’d be it.

AJ: Outside of architecture, are there any other forms of design that you engage with?

BT: I like to stay creating in my own time. One practice I have kept up since university is ink printing, which I find a relaxing way to express myself. In more recent times, I’ve started to get more into woodworking and am working on a series of taonga made from native rākau that I’m excited to finish.

It’s always been a dream to dive deeper into whakairo Māori and widen my knowledge of this artform, which seems to go hand-in-hand with the world of architecture, particularly in Aotearoa. Perhaps one day I’ll find the time to really explore this at a deeper level.

AJ: Tell us about your sculpture and mood board. What does it represent and how did you select the colours?

BT: When I received the invitation to be a part of this series, I was actually hiking in the Kahurangi National Park with two of my good friends, so naturally I thought I would reflect the colours I saw while on that trip. In one of the huts we stayed at, there was a book that told some histories of the area. One of the stories talked about how a cow had fallen into Lake Matiri in the ’50s and had been effectively consumed in a matter of days by eels. This got me thinking about our mahinga kai, and how these awa used to be a main source of our kai — so I chose to make this hīnaki (a traditional eel trap and symbol of kai) adorned with a selection of colours seen on that trip to symbolise this. The colours I used were Resene Seance, Resene Woodland and Resene Tussock.

I’ve painted the ringed frames of the hīnaki with Resene Woodland to reflect the beech forests we walked through that are typical of that area of the Kahurangi National Park. The highlighted plumes on top of the net are painted with Resene Tussock and reflect the wide ranging plateaus of the area covered with tussocky grass and are a huge counterpoint to the dense vegetation to either side of it. The tail of the net is painted with Resene Seance and represents the pops of colour provided by the purple pouch fungus that I saw in abundance growing through the litter of the forest floor. The colour sits in direct contrast to all its surrounding colours and is a reminder that the palette of the forest is not always your typical muted greens and yellows.

 See more from the On the Rise series here.