After Victoria’s Black Saturday disaster of 2009 it has become evident that designing for bushfire safety presents a problem which cannot be solved by scientific research and landscape management alone. Architect and lecturer Dr Ian Weir argues that designers and researchers need to articulate new ways of living sustainably in bushfire prone landscapes. 


The discipline of architecture has a track record in ‘bushfire responsive design’, although this is poorly known even within the profession. The exemplars include works by Australian architects Glenn Murcutt, Lindsay Johnston, James Stockwell (his recent award-winning project in the snowy mountains), and the Californian architect Barton Myres. Of particular note are Murcutt’s ‘Laurie Short House’ (NSW, 1973), ‘Ball-Eastaway House’ (NSW, 1980) and ‘Simpson Lee House’ (Blue Mountains). In each we find innovations, like permanent water bodies on flat roofs and storage ponds between buildings; ceramic tile cladding as radiant heat shields; conspicuous sprinkler systems; expansive leaf-shedding gutter designs. These features are not mere technical add-ons, they are integral to the composition of the architecture, which by virtue of its responsiveness to bushfire, cannot be viewed independently from its site. Most architects understand site-specificity to be a fundamental principle of bushfire design: where designs are developed from a sound understanding of each site (view, climate, vegetation, fire behavior etc). Indeed much of the discourse to date on the above exemplars focuses too much on their site-specificity. This is unfortunate because it inadvertently heralds the contingencies of the site – which are by definition discrete and unrepeatable. Like the emerging technocratic discourse (‘technology will save us’), the site-specificity ‘argument’ ultimately curtails discussion and investigation into the context for bushfire architecture. The ceramic tiles of Murcutt’s Laurie Short House are purposefully black, in this way they reflect not only radiant heat, but the nature of the site itself which is blackened by bushfire on a regular basis. Although subtle, such an approach presents the opportunity to rethink designing for bushfire. It signals the potential for architecture to help address this national problem, not just in technical proficiency but in the discipline’s ability to synthesise technical knowhow with understandings of human behaviour, while conducting a broader aesthetic discourse. But we must first address some major misconceptions. Houses are not destroyed by bushfires – they are destroyed by house fires. There is, of course, at some point transference from bush to house fires. The question is: what is this point? Research shows that in most instances this transfer is characterised not by direct flame contact, but from embers entering into a dwelling interior or its structural cavities - embers which can travel many kilometers from the fire front (see the research of Justin Leonard et al at CSIRO). This explains why we can have paradoxical images of razed houses in relatively unburnt landscapes (Canberra 2003 for example). It is often more effective to study partly burnt houses than those that are completely destroyed to find that point of transference from bush to house fire. Similarly, it is the firsthand observations of those that have experienced the loss of their houses that has become a valuable source of information to researchers (see submissions to the Royal Commission on Black Saturday). It is imperative that our approach is informed by scientific research and first-hand account, rather than the misinformation we often construct for ourselves via popular media.

Stand-alone bunkers are a flawed logic

If the best way to survive a bushfire is to not be there, then the responsible survival plan would clearly define each homeowner’s trigger point for relocation and escape. But many such landscapes do not have suitable road layouts for this response and, furthermore, emergency authorities now acknowledge that they cannot guarantee attendance to each fire event. This places greater emphasis on the dwelling and/or its site as the bushfire refuge. While technically feasible, standalone bushfire bunkers present significant problems when assessed in regard to human behavior. First, unlike in the tornado belt in the United States, bushfire in Australia is far too infrequent to become part of our dwelling psyche. A stand-alone bushfire bunker might only be required 20 years after installation. In all likelihood it has become a poorly maintained, water-logged storage shed. Second, the initial place of retreat is likely to be the familiar territory of the house, not the bunker. This presents the dilemma of retreating from the house to the bunker via the visually obscured burning landscape. Once in the bunker the evacuee then realises they forgot the dog, then the photos, etc… each return to the house enhances the probability of being trapped between. Third, the bunker is an entirely foreign environment that they are relying on while in a state of heightened stress, and the propensity to panic and over-consume oxygen exacerbates their situation.

An alternative: Fire-rated compartments

Designers might consider an alternative wherein the refuge is designed as an intrinsic part of the daily life of their clients. Until quite recently domestic laundries and wet areas of houses had traditionally been promoted by fire authorities as a potential refuge from bushfire. There are several good reasons. For example, ceramic tiled fibre-cement sheet walls are excellent radiant heat shields, water is available and they are often cast on inflammable concrete slabs. Indeed it is understandable that the resident would retreat to the least flammable and coolest part of their home, where there is also direct escape to the outside: in particular, the laundry. The problem with the common laundry is that it is not designed to withstand a structural fire - timber roof structures being one the most common ‘habitats’ of house fires. Nevertheless, significant potential lies in taking the knowhow from firerating techniques used in commercial building and applying it to domestic wet areas. My own architectural research with the Queensland University of Technology is investigating the efficacy of 2hr firerated wet area compartments for new residences in bushfire prone landscapes. The features of the compartment include: a structurally decoupled ‘cubicle’ with all elements of the envelope being rated for 120 min against radiation and structural failure (walls, roof, doors, windows, and penetrations); two means of escape in two different directions; a fire cabinet housing bushfire kit containing 1 hr smoke respirators and radiant heat reflecting garments.

Bushfire design is not an add-on

Being intrinsic to the dwelling design – not only is the laundry refuge part of daily life there are obvious cost advantages in not having to erect and maintain an additional structure. This principle can be applied to other elements of the building design, particularly those related to climate control. I have tested this in practice with the ‘Hhouse’ at Bremer Bay (2007) which has series of retractable fire shutters which are also used on a daily basis to control sun penetration, light levels, wind and insects. A first principle of bushfire design is a simple exterior geometry and thus the Hhouse does not have conventional eaves or verandahs. The sun control requirements related to BCA energy efficiency ratings (4 star in 2006) were met by factoring in the shutters which are on the northern and eastern facades. The residents of the house have now adopted a pattern of shutter operation which has become habitual. The shutters selected are perforated and thus allow very good visibility of the outside landscape during the day. Consequently the resident does not feel ‘trapped within’ when the shutters are down. By uniting climate control with fire safety not only are the building standards satisfied for energy efficiency but so too those associated with bushfires. Most importantly the shutters are used on a daily basis and consequently they are much more likely to perform as intended compared to an add-on feature which is deployed only in an emergencies. The shutters were selected early in the design process and influenced the entire design of the house. It is important to note that the Hhouse does not place bushfire threat above all other concerns, indeed it balances with equal importance the conservation of the rich flora of the site (coastal heathland). In so doing the Hhouse presents a means reconciling bushfire safety and biodiversity with daily life. Rather than seeing buildings as merely a means of mitigating a threat through technical knowhow, the above exemplars suggest how bushfire itself might be viewed as a means of advancing architecture’s contribution to Australia’s cultural expression. But, while these exemplars point toward an approach which embraces bushfire as a catalyst for creativity, rather than fear, an informed discussion of these works – framed though the lens of bushfire responsive design – is somewhat conspicuous by its absence. It is this lacuna that this article seeks to address. Dr Ian Weir is a registered practicing architect and a lecturer at Queensland University of Technology. He is director of the firm Ian Weir Architect.