I remember when the Living Pā, now known as Ngā Mokopuna, was a twinkle in Professor Rawinia Higgins’ eye. At the time, I was working at Te Herenga Waka (Victoria University of Wellington), where there was a strong desire amongst the whānau to create a second home on campus — one that would practicably support a sense of belonging, beyond the rabbit warren of offices and classrooms which characterised the five villas that made up the previous marae and Māori studies precinct. I was a student in these villas in the ’90s and the irony of ‘things Māori’ being contained within these colonial boxes was not lost on many. It seemed time to create meaningful space that celebrated ‘all things Māori’.

The site is a challenging one — a tight urban site, 5m higher at one end than at the other, surrounded by road and tall buildings and needing, somehow, to respond to and ensure the mana of Te Tumu Herenga Waka, the existing wharenui, is upheld and celebrated.The response is, on first glimpse, a seemingly simple rectangular form that folds down the hill, meeting at the level of the mahau (the porch) of the wharenui to create a large, level floor plate. This level extends out to the marae ātea (the open area in front of the wharenui), creating space able to cater to manuhiri groups, large and small, and hau kāinga (local people) alike. 

I say seemingly simple as this ‘living’ box packs a programme and utility inside, outside, underneath and on top in the quest to meet the standards set out in the seven petals of the Living Building Challenge (LBC).¹ These are:

1. Place: Restoring a healthy interrelationship with nature
2. Water: Creating developments that operate within the water balance of a given place and climate
3. Energy: Relying only on current solar income
4. Health + Happiness: Creating environments that optimise physical and psychological health and well-being
5. Materials: Endorsing products that are safe for all species through time
6. Equity: Supporting a just and equitable world
7. Beauty: Celebrating design that uplifts the human spirit. 

Living Building Challenge and Te Ao Māori

In our walk through Ngā Mokopuna, Rhonda Thomson, one of the co-leads along with Lincoln North, the project-management powerhouse, talks to the fact that, whilst the LBC has been used as a framework to guide the project, the reason that it works here and, potentially, why Māori have been voracious in taking up the LBC approach (e.g. see Te Kura Whare, Ngāi Tūhoe, and Pā Reo, Te Wānanga o Raukawa) is that the petals can align well enough with a te ao Māori way of seeing the world. She reflects that: “It’s all the richer when we have this parallel and dual narrative.” Kaitiakitanga compels us to “live well within the envelope of Ranginui and Papatūānuku” and, whilst the sustainability features are important, “the whakapapa of this place is fundamental to the design response”. One might argue that the ‘Place’ petal infers a consideration of context, though explicit reference to culture is not a feature of the LBC framework. But, Rhonda says, there’s enough in the LBC framework that aligns with Māori values to have it be a useful guiding tool. It also “enables us to be 10 years ahead of where we would be if we didn’t have it as the internationally accepted pinnacle of regenerative building design.”

Why this culture angle matters, though, is one of the talking points throughout the project – how best to uphold tikanga in the building and/or whether or not kawa and tikanga needed to change to respond to site constraints and, arguably, changing manifestations of kaitiakitanga. Rhonda and the design team recall a seminal wānanga, which included te whānau o Te Herenga Waka, external supporters, mana whenua and the design team very early on, where tikanga tensions were brought to the fore. The discussion focused on the proposition that used water (paru, mate and tapu water) could be recycled, purified or elevated, and used again. Marae Operational Manager Tu Temara’s seminal remarks broke open the conversation when he stated that “the relationship between wai and the whenua is that one depends on the other” and went on to explore the transformational qualities of wai. This catalysed an in-depth discussion where Kara Puketapu-Dentice (mana whenua) initiated the writing of a tauparapara — to create a whakapapa line to guide the ongoing design with an underlying agreement that tikanga may evolve over time to support the building’s contemporary kaitiakitanga role.

The importance of wai

I should add that drinking water is currently only collected rainwater. However, the wai wānanga principle, to adapt and change to ensure the underlying kaitiaki role is maintained, was nonetheless an important turning point for the project. 

Wai, and the ability to be completely self-contained with respect to water, is central to the building’s design. The LBC dictates that the site hydrology conditions should be returned to the way the site was prior to human habitation. Water, including drinking water, is collected via the roof. Its efficient use is encouraged through vacuum toilets, like the ones on aeroplanes, and some of the grey water is sent to elevated subsurface wetlands to water the plants and evaporates into the air and the spare water from that goes to flush the wharepaku. The remainder of all water flows is sent to a black-water treatment plant via a complicated filtering system. Five large water tanks sit underneath the deck holding potable (drinking) and non-potable (irrigation) water.

Subsurface drains in the marae ātea collect drainage water and surface water from paving is collected and flows to a newly created rill, daylighting the Kumutoto Stream and paying homage to the fact that the marae sits at its headwaters.

The Living Pā as a living lab 

The building aims to teach and learn. On our walk around, Rhonda pays homage to Te Tumu Herenga Waka, the wharenui, as the blueprint living lab noting “Tā Hirini Moko Mead conceived the wharenui for Māori students and staff as equivalent to the science labs for scientists. It’s a place where the people in our community, with their many disciplinary backgrounds, can come to explore mātauranga Māori and deeper knowledge.” Ngā Mokopuna works to parallel this, allowing students to learn from the sophisticated, not to mention beautiful, joint solution that responds to seismic events, to the brewery-lookalike water treatment plant and to the stainless-steel cables hung by gravity to support the vines that will offer a soft, western light for building inhabitants. 

The building’s atrium, centred around open teaching and gathering spaces, “accepts and celebrates the sound of talking, the sound of karakia going through the whare”, according to the architects, allowing for both an overt learning opportunity but also a “space that feels warm and lived in” the Head of Te Kawa a Maui, Mike Ross, tells me. He goes on to say, “We recently had assessments where students were learning Te Herenga Waka waiata Kāore taku raru — the sound of students singing wafted through the building as we worked, had staff meetings, during morning tea. I loved it.”

If I were to have one quibble — a reviewer’s prerogative — I would have loved to have been able to see even more of the technical stuff on show for people to learn from — think Centre Georges Pompidou in Paris. Perhaps this was not possible because of site size constraints or an aversion to seeing wastewater churned but I can’t help thinking that to have taken ‘the building as a teacher’ to the nth degree, given its role as kīnaki (the relish) to the wharenui, might have provided an even sweeter waiata tautoko (supporting song).

Functional toi

I don’t think anyone could walk away from this building without acknowledging the tau feeling (tau meaning beauty, elegance and to be settled) the building leaves you with. In fact, tau is the word a number of kaimahi (staff) I meet use to explain their experience of inhabiting the building.

Along with the sophistication that sits behind its structural and functional design, a range of what might be called eclectic artworks adorns the walls and spaces, some being built into the very fabric of the building. Much of this has been led by David Hakaraia. David is one of the leading Māori designers in Aotearoa and his expertise shines throughout the building. Not only is his work beautiful; it is also functional. The sides of the stairwells are adorned with intricate and delicate design sitting in front of Autex to absorb errant building sounds — slightly gothic-meets-Māori- design-looking lamps that cast constellations to light a corridor space. The Autex within the rooms is beautiful: sculpted to create warm spaces that clearly reference te taiao (natural environment) outside.

The art speaks to beauty through Māori eyes: biophilia in LBC speak. It’s an educator in its own right and will continue to provide inspiration to students for years to come, speaking to what’s possible when you invest in and celebrate te ao Māori. 

Epilogue

Given the tumult in the world today, one could be forgiven for thinking that any focus on the importance of architecture is self-indulgent. The Taxpayers’ Union certainly thought it was, calling this building a “needless vanity project”.² Yet symbols are important — the tino rangatiratanga symbol or the MAGA slogan, to offer examples from two ends of the spectrum, or, if you need some architectural ones, the Berlin Wall or the Beehive. Buildings say something about what matters or, equally, what doesn’t matter in our world.

This building, then, could well be an historically significant rallying cry, erected at a time when those in power in the world seemingly have no care for how we ‘meet the needs of the present generation without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs’ nor care for the ongoing problems of inequity that continue to be faced by Māori and others in our society. Despite, in many ways, the building from the outside not looking like an overtly ‘Māori’ building (what does that mean anyway? A topic for another day), this building pragmatically, aesthetically and symbolically is essentially a stance. It says, being Māori matters and is beautiful and important: worthy of place and space that support Māori to be Māori.

It also says that te ao Māori and Māori identity centre and are inseparable from Papatūānuku, the whenua, the wai — all of the non-human things that allow us to be human. The kererū have taken this to heart and kaimahi can now sit floating in the trees, switching between a view of the latest thesis or budgets to a slightly tense kererū ménage à trois made possible by the healthy and life-giving environment that is a living pā.

This project has been, by all accounts, a whānau one. Yes, Hugh, Ewan and Julie (Tennent Brown Architects) have led the beautiful architecture and function. However, the project needed Tu Temara’s seminal words, Rawinia and te whānau o Te Herenga Waka’s (staff, students and supporters of the marae) vision and staunchness to ‘stick to the kaupapa’, David’s toi leadership, Rhonda and Lincoln’s project-management prowess, the builders, engineers and other trade experts who put this all together, alongside the rich whakapapa and teachings from those who have been part of the Te Herenga Waka journey from day dot to make this the success that it is. These kaimahi and tauira are very lucky indeed!

REFERENCES

^{1 living-future.org/lbc/}

^{2 wellington.scoop.co.nz/?p=157430}