It seems banal to point out that buildings are rather big objects and, consequently, made up of many parts. Yet, this is an unavoidably important reality of architectural work. Buildings are assembled from bricks and boards, floors, walls, rooms and storeys; they accommodate different individuals, groups, activities and objects. Architects must relate these parts to one another as well as to some kind of whole, and the manner in which they do this work reflects their skill and character. For Millie Anderson and Jimmy Carter – the two halves of Office Mi–Ji – their adept orchestration of parts also reveals a refreshingly playful disposition.
This attitude is distinct from the stern and rarefied character of much contemporary architecture. However, it is also not late-twentieth century irony or parody that one is expected to “get” while it hangs around like an awkward dad joke. Rather, Office Mi–Ji’s playfulness emerges from perceptively manipulating convention, being emphatic or dramatic and courting ambiguity.
AB House is bound together by a perimeter of columns.
Image: Benjamin Hosking
AB House, for example, is articulated as a loose assemblage, yet it is also adamantly bound together by a perimeter of columns. The plan is split into two halves, establishing distinct parts for residents and visitors. These are not merely divided but dramatically pulled apart – only to be tethered by a whimsically curving corridor. A laundry and WC sit midway along this passage; their cylindrical shapes declare that they are independent of and, thus, not exclusively owned by the orthogonal domains at either end of the house. The WC further accentuates their exceptionalism by protruding through the roof.
Architects often resent and hide the presence of unavoidable, conspicuous parts – downpipes are a prime example. However, it shows far greater skill to welcome these necessities, draw them into relationship with the whole and imbue them with significance and effect. At Office Mi–Ji’s A Renovation for Three, an intentionally oversized downpipe plays with the sense of scale on one facade. It emphatically punctuates the meeting point of the roof form but also and sidles up to a lone, small window, dramatizing the scale of each and soliciting a kind of curiosity by making the downpipe seem even bigger and the window peculiarly small.
To be clear, Office Mi–Ji’s work is serious architecture. It is refined, erudite and highly considered. The practice’s playfulness evinces its prowess, and these early projects promise to be part of an impressive future body of work.
A Renovation For Three in Castlemaine, Victoria, is an addition to one of the studio’s former projects, which measured just 45 square metres.
Image: Benjamin Hosking
What’s your seminal design moment?
The earliest is walking up the ramp at Daryl Jackson’s Harold Holt Pool, unsure what world we were about to enter.
What would be the dream project?
A monastery or an outhouse.
Favourite artwork?
Jimmy: Charles Simonds’ Dwellings (1981)
Millie: Rachel Whiteread’s House (1993)
