Author Nicolas Sharp
Supervisor Colleen Fay
Date November 2023
Level of Education Four
Text Type Critical Essay
Word Count 1522
 

The complexity of Simplicity - Recontextualising a colonised backcountry

The design of backcountry huts in Aotearoa, New Zealand presents a unique architectural challenge. These huts are not just shelters; they are a testament to the cultural, historical, and environmental contexts of the regions they are placed within. They are temporary places for anyone to escape to, connect with nature, gather, and exchange stories. From a glance they appear to be simple structures where the complexity lies within the details – how the hut responds to the land, culture, and time. However, huts have become synonymous with following traditions of introduced Pākehā (non-maori) knowledge and practices, creating a loss in the complexity of what a hut is. Furthermore, colonisation has had a major effect on the traditional huts of our unique landscape. The areas covered in this essay respond to the hut as shelter, how colonisation has influenced huts in Aotearoa’s backcountry, and how decolonisation methodologies and contextual architecture can be a solution to recontextualise our backcountry. This essay ultimately aims to define what the huts' primary roles are within our landscape, and what approaches are appropriate to recontextualise our hut network.

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The concept of shelter focuses on the fundamental human need for protection from the relentless forces of nature. The theory of the primitive hut, as articulated by Marc-Antoine Laugier in An Essay on Architecture, stands as a foundation in architectural history (Laugier, 1977). Laugier's exploration commences with a study of humanity's primal state, wherein natural instincts dictate action. Within this context, the earliest need for shelter emerges, laying the foundation for architectural principles. As man's attention initially falls upon a field of grass, changing circumstances lead to the recognition of a nearby forest as a source of refuge from the sun's intensity. With mounting challenges, man constructs a shelter using fallen branches, thatching the roof with tightly packed leaves, resulting in the expression of the most basic architectural form – the primitive hut. All architectural elements find their roots in this primitive model, with upright branches symbolising columns, horizontal branches mirroring the entablature, and the inclined roof taking the form of a pediment. This basic need for shelter can be seen across all human existing, as many different cultures adapted to new environments.

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Across the globe, every culture and region had a unique approach to shelter, but all first settlers always constructed shelter around the need for survival. Within the context of Aotearoa, shelter was essential in the extreme and quickly changing climate. Early Māori expeditions into mountainous and coastal terrains required the use of temporary shelters, echoing Laugier's emphasis on necessity-driven architecture. These shelters often harnessed the natural environment, utilising rock formations and readily available materials, reflecting an innate connection to the surroundings and a pragmatic response to the imperative need for shelter during expeditions. Similarly, colonial backcountry huts in Aotearoa embrace the essence of the primitive hut. These structures, constructed from locally sourced materials, illustrate a practical approach rooted in adaptation to the natural landscape. Aotearoa’s early huts were about simplicity, functionality, and a do-it-yourself ethos, aligning with Laugier's vision of architecture as a response to nature's elements and an expression of the fundamental human need for shelter. In essence, Māori and colonial backcountry shelters share fundamental attributes with the primitive hut – both emerge from necessity and seamlessly harmonise with their immediate natural settings. After their respected arrival to Aotearoa both Māori and Pākehā settled into the new landscape quickly, and with this huts became more than just shelter.

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A deeper insight into the concept of the primitive hut, its cultural and symbolic significance, and its extensive historical roots can be drawn from Joseph Rykwert's work, On Adams House in Paradise. Rykwert delves into the historical and symbolic dimensions of the primitive hut, unveiling its enduring presence across diverse cultures and times (Rykwert, 1972). Rykwert emphasises that the primitive hut goes beyond the hut being functional and necessity-driven; it becomes a bridge linking humanity to the profound dimensions of nature, spirituality, and our origins. It represents more than mere shelter, bounding a profound connection to nature, spirituality, and the very essence of human existence. This connection invites reflection on humanity's place within the cosmos, fostering a deeper understanding of our intrinsic nature. Rykwert's exploration of the primitive hut's role in rituals and cultural practices aligns with the significance of huts within New Zealand's cultural landscape. These huts, often nestled in remote and rugged landscapes, serve as tangible embodiments of the intricate connections between people, nature, and tradition. Beyond their function as shelters, these huts become sites of ritual and cultural identity.

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A commonality emerges between Māori and Pākehā cultures in New Zealand, wherein both share similar approaches to shelter within the backcountry. Both cultures grappled with the need to adapt to new and challenging environments, particularly in the unpredictable terrain of New Zealand's backcountry, necessitating the development of effective strategies for survival and adaptation was essential. However, the contemporary understanding of the primitive hut takes us beyond the simplicity of Laugier's illustration, as Mike Austin and Jeremy Treadwell's exploration of constructing the Pacific hut suggests (Austin & Treadwell, 2009). They draw attention to the practical complexities and structural challenges that underlie even the simplest hut construction. The need for lateral stability and the support of posts represents a departure from Laugier's basic hut concept. Highlighting the vital importance of understanding tectonic issues, which, in the case of Pacific huts, revolve around the need for stable ridge beams (tahuhu). The tahuhu, a key feature of Pacific huts, is central to the structural stability of these constructions. This perspective reveals that even in the most simple architectural forms, the marriage between architectural design and structural stability is essential. In this context, Laugier's primitive hut theory finds resonance in the primal human need for shelter, but the contemporary viewpoint offers a deeper understanding of the architectural challenges that underpin this necessity. 

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The influence of colonisation in New Zealand has left a lasting imprint on the country, extending beyond its physical and social landscapes into the realm of architecture. During the 19th century, New Zealand witnessed a large amount of systematic analysis and categorisation of indigenous knowledge and culture. In particular this was very common in the built environment of Māori whare buildings. For example, poupou were often on display in museums exhibiting their carvings, but were not presented for their architecture or construction detail. As Pākehā culture began to dominate this land, nails replaced these indigenous post-tensioned structures. Architect and Researcher Dr Jeremy Treadwell examined this structural method which has had little to no previous literature surrounding it (Treadwell, 2019). Treadwell's research examined how whare runanga was perceived as a simple post and beam structure. However, they were highly crafted and engineered structures which were much different to Pākehā techniques. Māori post-tensioned structures used elements such as wall posts (poupou), heke (rafters) and tahuhu (ridge beam) which made the structure extremely rigid. Although this method of construction may not have been as prominent in the backcountry of Aotearoa, it serves as a great example of the effects colonisation has had within the realm of architecture in general.

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Within the backcountry of New Zealand, the architecture of huts has been shaped by the intertwining of two major cultures within our nation - Māori and European. Authors Shaun Barnett, Rob Brown, and Geoff Spearpoint  shed light on how the origins of these huts can be traced back to the arrival of Māori on our shores (Barnett, Brown, Spearpoint, 2012). As they traversed the land in pursuit of hunting and fishing, Māori often used overhanging rock ledges or caves as shelter, but also relied on temporary whare, cleverly constructed using readily available resources like tree bark and fern fronds. The first European structure, erected by sealers in the Dusky Sound of Fiordland during the 1790s, marked a pivotal moment in the timeline of these huts. While early Pākehā huts were also often constructed from natural materials, many Pākehā methods were shipped and used in the backcountry. A great example of this is the introduction of lightweight corrugated iron for both roof and wall claddings. These have often been painted bright orange or red, contrasting Māori structures which by being made from the land, would blend in. Over time since Pākehā arrival, and especially in recent times, backcountry huts have come to symbolise Pākehā culture. Researcher Robin Quigg  raises an important point regarding the placement of these structures on land which holds significant value for Māori (Quigg, 1993). These huts embody a distinct cultural heritage and history, which may differ from the Māori perspective on land and its past. Consequently, the presence of European huts on Māori land raises questions about the acknowledgment and respect for Māori cultural values and historical connections. These placements underscore a broader issue of cultural dominance and the potential marginalisation of indigenous perspectives. The prevailing influence of Pākehā traditions and viewpoints in decision-making processes concerning land use and resource evaluation reflects a historical power imbalance and the enduring impact of colonial legacies. While there has been progress in acknowledging and respecting the cultural values of our indigenous population in recent decades, it remains crucial to continue addressing this ongoing cultural issue.

The issue is that huts have become synonymous with following traditions of introduced Pākehā knowledge and practices. Therefore, recontextualising huts in Aotearoa’s backcountry becomes an opportunity. The following sections of this essay explore the potential methods which can be used within this topic to adapt the way huts are designed to harmonise with the landscape, cultures, and time – time being a continuum of acknowledging the past, understanding the present, and looking to the future.

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Decolonisation is a methodology that seeks to reclaim control over indigenous ways of knowing and being for the benefit for the people and communities. In response to decolonisation within architecture, Co-Design is a design approach that can allow indigenous people and communities to regain their voice in a post-colonial time. Rod Marler, Whare Timu, Vajini Pannila, and Jefa Greenaway of Warren and Mahoney architects discuss that “Indigenous cultures have relevance to everyone. They remind us of a time in our collective past when we were more connected to our world, offering seminal lessons as we search for ways to solve the problems of our time (Marler, Timu, Pannila, Jefa 2022).” Co-design is about ongoing communication and relationships, rather than a process that is usually associated with colonial methodologies. A recent Aotearoa project that can reflect co-design is the Te Kura Whare project in Te Urewera. Designed by JASMAX Architects, the project design was led by Pākehā architect Ivan Mercep. Unfortunately, he passed away before the completion of the project, but the building has become a testament to the connection between everyone involved, reflecting their commitment to environmental and cultural restoration in a colonial-effected context. The project involved the active participation of the Tūhoe community members, who contributed to various aspects of construction, from felling trees to making earth bricks, resulting in a transformative learning and employment opportunity. It serves as a living expression of the healing and regeneration of the Tūhoe people and their ancestral landscape. This project highlights the importance of engaging the wider community, and that non-indigenous individuals can have a great impact towards decolonisation. While co-design can lead to great opportunities to restore colonial-affected contexts, it becomes of interest to consider the role of non-indigenous people.