Bad Apples’ new home at Collingwood Yards expands that mission into a space where collaboration across disciplines is actively encouraged. “Having a physical place to see and go to is a great way to encourage artists to reach further and dream bigger. Also knowing there’s an understanding within the building; that they are welcome.”

Poet and writer Izzy Roberts-Orr is on the board of Collingwood Yards and has been part of the working group that assembled the lineup of tenants who share the space. Getting the delicate alchemy of that mix just right has always been a huge priority, she says.

“That combination between emerging and established artists and the combination of communities that different people would be bringing into the space as well. There were a lot of meetings and really detailed thinking about who would be the right fit and who would have a collaborative attitude.”

It’s paid off. As you make your way through the airy buildings and leafy courtyards of the precinct, there’s a sense of cohesion between very different artists and organisations that’s lacking from most cultural precincts. It feels more like an ecology, a garden in which ideas can cross-pollinate.

Quino Holland, a director at Fieldwork, the architecture studio responsible for designing Collingwood Yards, embraced the challenge of creating a collaborative space. “We put a really big focus on the community aspects of buildings, be they commercial or residential or cultural. What that translates to in the real world is we put a lot of energy into the common spaces, corridors, staircases, courtyards, all the spaces that people share. We try to turn them into spaces that will foster community.”

That also extends to the general public. At the centre of the precinct a sprawling courtyard is sheltered by three plane trees. It’s a space that does something rare these days: it invites you to linger.

“There’s not that many spaces in Melbourne that aren’t a street or a park that you can go into without feeling like you’ve got to spend money on something or consume something,” Holland says. “And we’ve seen the success of that already. People do just flow in there and hang out, and that’s a really nice thing for the neighbourhood.”

Though there’s a lot of artistic work being done around the site, it’s also a place that rewards curiosity from those outside the creative spheres. “We didn’t want it to be this enclosed artists’ ghetto,” Holland says. “We wanted the public to be able to interface with the cultural production.”

For decades the site was home to Collingwood TAFE, and the design of the new space communicates that history. A blackboard in a corridor still lists the schedule for the wood machining students’ day; the colour palette of new paintwork matches that of the old building.

Brustman has been charmed by the number of people who amble past her studio looking a little lost: “They’re old students who’ve come wandering through the building,” she says. “They’re curious about what’s going on.”

Collingwood Yards remains a work-in-progress; a good number of tenants are still in the process of moving in. But it’s already a promising addition to Melbourne’s cultural landscape and could well have flow-on effects that extend far beyond Collingwood.

That’s because it’s an experiment of sorts. Collingwood TAFE was on state government-owned land, so it’s technically the government that has enabled the project. But it’s done so at arm’s length, letting an independent organisation (Contemporary Arts Precincts) oversee the development of Collingwood Yards and the appointing of tenants. It’s a novel idea: real estate as a form of funding.

And if it works out, there’s no reason not to expect the experiment to be repeated elsewhere. In five, 10 or 20 years’ time, Melbourne could be home to any number of autonomously run hubs for artists of all stripes to collaborate and co-mingle. The public would be welcome to roam these spaces, and there’d be no need to buy something or get out.

It’s more than just a precinct, then. Roberts-Orr says the board of Collingwood Yards debated that description but are yet to find the right alternative.

“It’s funny that I’m a poet but can’t find the right word,” she jokes. “It’s a home. That’s probably one of the words that might make sense.”

WELCOMING DESIGN
FOR LIVING

Architectural director Quino Holland says Collingwood Yards was designed to invite curiosity from the public in ways that might not be apparent on first inspection. The Johnston Street facade already featured a striking art deco entrance, for instance, which seems like the most obvious entry point to the precinct.

The problem with that is that the looming design “says all these wonderful art deco things but none of them are very welcoming. We said that’s all very well but it’s not appropriate for the current function, which is to be a really welcoming space.”

Instead they took “the path of most resistance” and punched a hole through the heritage facade further up the hill, transforming it into a portal of shimmering perforated steel and gold leafing.

“It allows you to walk in without having to have staircases or ramps – you just flow into the space – and it’s also stripped of all those classic signifiers of entry. It’s unusual but it definitely tries to be welcoming.”

Much of the site’s design blurs the distinction between old and new, with the exception of new infrastructure such as lift shafts and staircases. “We put all the new infrastructure that was needed to bring these buildings up to code on the outside of the building and turned them into objects of beauty in themselves,” he says.

“The idea was that rather than it just be a fire stair, let’s turn it into a cool sculptural object. Rather than a corridor platform, let’s extend it out so it almost touches the canopy of the trees.”

The design for those elements took inspiration from the viewing platforms in natural parks – fitting for a space where you can observe artists in their natural habitat.