Berrima Bathroom

2023

Alterations and Additions

Berrima, NSW

A pair of bathrooms that interlock together like a jigsaw puzzle. A hidden entry through the back of a wardrobe. Our first completed Studio179 project.

No items found.

Berrima Bathroom Project. November 2023.

The photographer sets his tripod up on the floorboards.

He slips half-cut tennis balls over the feet of the tripod. The balls have his initials - DM - written on them with a sharpie, presumably to deter tennis ball thieves.

Amanda is watching on, smiling. This is our first photo shoot together, and our first completed project.

DM sets up the camera and begins to capture some test shots.

Amanda and I watch the images appear on the screen of his laptop. We catch each other’s eye, eyebrows up with excitement.

But DM isn’t happy with the scene. The sunlight coming through the window has too much red in it, he says. The sun is bouncing off the crushed granite on the driveway below the window. He walks outside with an oversized black bedsheet and throws it across the driveway, like a fisherman casting a net.

We share another look, still excited, but sceptical about any effect the bedsheet will have.

DM comes back inside and takes another shot.

Much better, he says, scrutinising the laptop screen through half-closed eyes.

‍

‍

The process of the photo shoot resonates with us. On a project like this - a bathroom renovation - the similarities between the work of the photographer and the work of the designer are clear.

The task is to survey the wide range of information - be it tones of light and shade for the photographer, or the client brief and existing structure for the designer - and narrow the focus to create a refined and beautifully-framed final product.

‍

‍

Months ago, at the start of the design process, the information from the client was simple: take the existing bathroom (an under-utilised and over-sized space) and replace it with a new bathroom and an ensuite (and a laundry cupboard, and a wardrobe for the bedroom). These small changes would make a big impact on the home, creating a separation between private and shared spaces, and allowing the client to move into the bedroom with the best connection to the garden and the morning sunlight.

The problem to be solved was how to fit all these spaces into the available 12 square metres.

‍

‍

Through a process of notebook sketches, client meetings, and drawing shapes with blue-tape on the office floor, the solution we worked our way towards was to create two distinct spaces (using a shared material palette) that interlock together in plan like a jigsaw puzzle. Or a Cubist yin-yang symbol.

Yin and yang: an open and functional bathroom and a private, hidden and luxurious ensuite.

‍

‍

Any spare blocks of floorspace are utilised for storage solutions - back-to-back cupboards beside the laundry nook, niches in walls, deep window sills doing double-duty as shelves, a stud-deep shaving cabinet above the ensuite sink.

The proposed wardrobe in the adjacent bedroom - a crucial storage element and an important part of the brief - causes issues, however.

Like a moat, it blocks off access from the bedroom to the ensuite. The only way through it is - literally - through it.

So, we embraced the situation and hid a Narnia-esque tunnel to the ensuite behind the wardrobe door.

There’s always room for fun in a functional design.

‍

‍

Like the photographer capturing the finished scene, we kept our focus narrow whilst remaining attentive to a much wider range of factors.

We took on early advice from the builder, considering the feasibility of certain design options. The existing walls and window openings were all retained. We climbed into the roof space and crawled under the floor to investigate the existing structure.

‍

‍

Quirks and flourishes in the design are born (mostly) from necessity. The hidden entry to the ensuite through the wardrobe maximises the wardrobe storage (allowing for extra cupboard space above the entry) and removes the restriction of a swinging door from the tight floorspace of the ensuite. The distinct curve in the tiled wall allows room for a shower in the ensuite whilst also providing circulation space in the bathroom (guests can walk comfortably from the vanity to the shower without knocking their knees against the toilet).

The spaces are simple, with superfluous elements removed, at once precise but effortless.

Like the photographer meticulously adjusting the light in a scene, we worked hard to distill a wide range of information and factors down into their simplest form: two rooms that interlock together like a jigsaw puzzle.

‍

‍

‍

The sun has gone down and the photographer has long since taken the tennis balls off the tripod and packed away his gear.

Amanda and I are alone in the quiet house, putting shampoo bottles back on shelves and tucking buckets back beside the washing machine. The client is away travelling and has left us her spare key with the leather labrador keychain.

It has been a thrilling day for us. A large amount of our time recently has been spent at our desk documenting designs for projects still to be constructed.

It’s wonderful to spend the day at a finished project, watching an expert work.

But it has been a long day. Too long of a day to even contemplate cooking dinner. It’ll be a cheeky takeaway on the way home, I think.

I stand alone in the ensuite for a moment, in the quiet, the only light coming from the wall sconce beside the mirror.

‍

‍

The tiles are still warm beneath my socks - the underfloor heating has been on today.

It’s a gentle, calm space. It feels soothing and familiar.

It’s a space which will always be special and important to us: our first completed project.

I run my fingers across the tiles on the wall, feeling the slight indents of grout. It’s a thrill - an addictive thrill - to think that a few months ago we sketched the lines of these tiles on a bit of baking paper.

I step back through the wardrobe tunnel and call out to Amanda.

Thai or Vietnamese, I ask.

‍