Standing in a nondescript city laneway, I try to picture how it once looked, how it must have felt, soaking in the bohemian mix of shops back in the 1940s or \u201950s. For they used to call this laneway \u201ca touch of Paris\u201d, the jewel of Sydney\u2019s CBD, brimming with cafes, art galleries, dress stores, milliners, bookshops and record stores, housed in grand Edwardian and Victorian buildings. It led to the sandstone-colonnaded Hotel Australia, and to one of the elegant entrances to the original Theatre Royal on Martin Place. From the late 19th century until the mid-1970s, Rowe Street was the beating heart of Sydney\u2019s cosmopolitan life.<\/p>\n
Today only a sad sliver of the once exuberant laneway, which originally stretched the full block between Pitt and Castlereagh streets, remains. In 1973, the laneway was severed, and the palatial Hotel Australia and the original Theatre Royal were demolished \u2013 despite fierce public opposition at the time \u2013 to make way for Harry Seidler\u2019s brutalist MLC Centre tower, now known as 25 Martin Place, which recently underwent a $170 million glow-up of its dated lower levels.<\/p>\n
Harry Seidler\u2019s other concrete monoliths in Sydney\u2019s CBD<\/a>, which include Australia Square and the Grosvenor Place tower, led to the obliteration of dozens of sandstone Edwardian and Victorian buildings. Mercifully, the unforgiving modernist, who was a relentless high-rise lobbyist to councils and government, never succeeded in demolishing the voluptuous grande dame herself \u2013 the Romanesque Queen Victoria Building \u2013 which he described as an \u201carchitectural monstrosity\u201d in an article in the Daily Mirror in 1961. Seidler\u2019s desired replacement? An underground car park and civic square.<\/p>\n Too many of Melbourne\u2019s majestic buildings, constructed from the wealth of the gold rushes and the 1880s land boom, have similarly been lost to the bulldozer: most infamously, the Federal Coffee Palace, built on the corner of Collins and King streets between 1886 and 1888, which The Age described at the time as \u201cone of the largest and most opulent hotels in the world\u201d. Much of Collins Street itself, once hailed as one of the planet\u2019s grandest Victorian shopping strips, was irrevocably scarred, first in the rush to create a modern-looking city for the Royal Tour and the Melbourne Olympics in the 1950s, then in the reconstruction boom of the 1960s and \u201970s, despite desperate efforts by the Save Collins Street group to preserve the unique streetscape. By 1975, nearly half of the grand buildings on the eastern end of Collins Street \u2013 the so-called \u201cParis end\u201d \u2013 were gone, according to the National Trust. A sign by one of Australia\u2019s oldest demolition companies \u2013 \u201cWhelan the Wrecker is Here\u201d \u2013 pinned to the facade of an empty building inevitably meant its fate was sealed.<\/p>\n Among other great gems Melbourne lost: the APA Building, a striking 1890 Queen Anne skyscraper topped by spires and gables on the corner of Elizabeth Street and Flinders Lane, demolished in 1980 and replaced with a bland five-storey concrete and glass office building; the wildly elaborate Fink\u2019s building with distinctive arched windows on Flinders Street, torn down in 1967; and the Prell\u2019s buildings on Queen Street \u2013 a series of three ornate, eight-storey buildings \u2013 demolished between 1967 and 1980. A host of historic buildings along St Kilda Road, boasting an array of architectural styles, were also reduced to rubble during this time. Miraculously, many of Melbourne\u2019s trademark laneways survived to become the trendy hubs they are today.<\/p>\n Still, you can\u2019t stop progress and both Sydney and Melbourne boast many sparkling modern buildings. The obvious examples in Sydney are the billowing sails of the Opera House<\/a>, the recently restored curving fa\u00e7ade of the AMP building at Circular Quay<\/a> (a modern classic built in 1962, now known as 33 Alfred Street), and the new Quay Quarter Tower<\/a> \u2013 said to be the world\u2019s first \u201cupcycled\u201d skyscraper, as it retains 60 per cent of the existing core structure \u2013 perched directly behind it. Melbourne\u2019s Manhattan-like skyline<\/a>, so striking from a distance, is dotted with award-winning residential towers, Eureka Tower and Abode318 among them. But sadly, huge slabs of both cities have been overwhelmed with big glass, steel and concrete boxes that have made whole blocks feel soulless and deathly monotonous at pedestrian level.<\/p>\n From the 1950s to the 1990s, modernist architects declared war on Australia\u2019s classic architecture: the colonial, Georgian, Victorian and art deco buildings that made up our cities. In the process, far too many elegant and refined sandstone and bluestone buildings were razed, replaced with inferior glass and steel boxes that for the most part haven\u2019t dated well. If it weren\u2019t for trade unionist Jack Mundey\u2019s Green Bans in the 1970s, and lobbying by activists such as Juanita Nielsen \u2013 who fought developers intent on destroying heritage and pushing working-class tenants out of their premises \u2013 Sydney would have lost most of its historic core. The Rocks, Millers Point, Woolloomooloo, Victoria Street and much of Potts Point \u2013 all would have succumbed to modern, sterile high-rise.<\/p>\n In Europe over the past decade, a significant backlash against modernism has been propelling a drive to restore classic buildings and streetscapes to their traditional former glory. This is particularly so in cities and towns across Poland, Germany and Britain, which lost so much of their trademark architecture to bombs during World War II, and then to replacement concrete cartons during the post-war decades.<\/p>\n The Architectural Uprising, which started as a Facebook group in Sweden in 2014, became an association two years later and now has chapters across the globe, is a key driver of the new trend. The group bills itself as \u201ca people\u2019s movement against the continued uglification of our cities\u201d. On its Instagram account, it posts dramatic before-and-after shots of ugly-duck buildings and streetscapes across Europe that have been rebuilt or restored to their original striking beauty.<\/p>\n Modernism was driven by an \u2018ideological dogma to\u00a0despise the past\u2019.<\/p>\n In Germany, there\u2019s been the large-scale reconstruction of the historic baroque core of Dresden (known as \u201cFlorence on the Elbe\u201d before the 1945 bombing apocalypse wiped out 70 per cent of structures), along with the restoration of Frankfurt\u2019s Old Town and much of historic Potsdam, using historical maps and architectural plans, and traditional building methods. Poland has been particularly vigorous with its meticulous rebuilds in Warsaw\u2019s Old Town and cities including Gdansk, Wroclaw and Elblag.<\/p>\n Earlier this year, The Architectural Uprising announced its inaugural Aesthetic Atrocity Award, given to the ugliest new building in the United States (the dishonour went to Simmons Hall, a residence hall at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology). Joaia Batista, a spokesperson for The Architectural Uprising, believes that modernism was driven by an \u201cideological dogma to despise the past\u201d and while he acknowledges that some of the rebuilds and restorations have drawn criticism from heritage purists, he insists their sheer beauty far exceeds the drab, boxy buildings of the post-war era, which most people drive past and ignore.<\/p>\n Veteran British architect Robert Adam, a pioneer of contextual architecture \u2013 designing buildings that blend in harmoniously within traditional streetscapes \u2013 says there has been a groundswell of interest among younger architects in classical designs, in part because this is what communities want. \u201cThere have been many research projects and academic papers on what type of architecture ordinary people \u2013 not design professionals \u2013 prefer, and for decades they come up with the same result: traditional design is preferred by the vast majority,\u201d he tells Good Weekend. \u201cIt\u2019s well-established that traditional street patterns \u2013 walkable, complex, tightly planned, low-rise and mixed-use \u2013 are more successful.\u201d<\/p>\n Batista, who is 25 and based in Portugal, says he is heartened by the revival of interest in classical design, particularly among a young generation of architects, who are recognising that traditional buildings endowed European and British cities with their distinctive character. \u201cReconstructions are getting labelled less and less as \u2018false history\u2019 by newer generations,\u201d he says, \u201cbut they still think those works have to have a \u2018contemporary stamp\u2019 even if this ruins the whole harmony and look of the building.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/p>\n One of Batista\u2019s favourite reconstructions is at 24-26 Hereford Square in London, where a former World War II bomb site at the end of a row of classic, white, stuccoed Victorian terraces had been replaced in 1958 with a bare-bones block of flats built from reinforced concrete and brick cladding. In 2022, the block was demolished and replaced with three white stuccoed townhouses, replicas of the 1846 Italianate originals that stood here for nearly 100 years, restoring the streetscape to its former glory. \u201cThere is a huge demand for traditional terrace homes in this area,\u201d says Jeremy Creasor, a residential property broker in London\u2019s Kensington and Chelsea. \u201cIt\u2019s very rare for a buyer to ask for a modern house.\u201d<\/p>\n Australia is yet to witness such a vigorous renewal of interest in traditional design, but a small clutch of classical architects is determined to change the conversation towards building homes and public buildings that are both more human and more connected to the environment.<\/p>\n On a grand colonnaded balcony overlooking buzzing Bayswater Road in Sydney\u2019s Potts Point, architect Michael Suttie is pointing to a dreary tower opposite, with its expanse of monotonous brick and aluminium windows. \u201cModern town planning has been a disaster because it\u2019s been built around the motor car and not people,\u201d says Suttie. \u201cWe need to get back to constructing buildings that will last for centuries and not decades.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2018In the past, if you designed in the classical style you\u2019d risk being ostracised by some architects.\u2019<\/p>\n Architect Robert Mills<\/p>\n Modern architecture, as Suttie sees it, doesn\u2019t pay enough respect to the craftsmanship and building quality of the past, nor the unique character of our city centres and suburban streetscapes. \u201cIf you\u2019re going to knock down a heritage building,\u201d he says, \u201cwe should be replacing it with a better building. From the point of view of beauty, we\u2019re destroying one of the most extraordinary cities in the world.\u201d<\/p>\n While agreeing with the sentiment, I hasten to point out we\u2019re in the thick of a critical housing shortage, with a dearth of skilled tradespeople and soaring materials costs. Constructing even mediocre houses and public buildings costs serious dollars, so how feasible is it to aim for high quality?<\/p>\n Suttie insists it\u2019s not necessary to spend egregious sums of money erecting homes and public buildings that are good for the community and the world. It boils down, he says, to employing modern technology with the best of compassionate design to create walkable neighbourhoods. Further to this, Suttie has designed a concept plan for the redevelopment and restoration of Woolloomooloo that could house thousands more people while creating a highly appealing, European-style village atmosphere.<\/p>\n Suttie\u2019s CV speaks more to a knockabout pragmatist than a nostalgic idealist. After graduating with a degree in mining engineering from the University of NSW, he worked on large drilling projects for the mines in Western Australia before moving to the UK to work as a stonemason, carpenter and artisan, then studying for a master\u2019s degree in classical and traditional architecture at the University of Notre Dame in the US. It was only after travels through Europe that he developed what he calls his deep love of beauty; his architectural practice, which currently employs about a dozen people, has completed works in a variety of heritage projects \u2013 residential, urban and ecclesiastical \u2013 across the country.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n When I ask him about the history of this 19th-century mansion where we\u2019re sitting \u2013 four grand terraces joined by an upstairs colonnade, one of which houses his architectural practice \u2013 Suttie breaks into a delighted grin. \u201cI don\u2019t know \u2013 but it was once the World\u2019s Biggest Bed [a brothel] and Club 20 [a nightclub],\u201d he says. Suttie goes on to tell the story of two former clients, a couple who, upon visiting his premises, looked around and said, \u201cWe met here.\u201d \u201cI don\u2019t know if they met at Club 20 or the brothel,\u201d he says cheekily.<\/p>\n Today\u2019s \u201cstarchitects\u201d frequently make their name designing buildings that test the limits of engineering and design \u2013 the mania for twisting, curling, gravity-defying, tilting skyscrapers being a case in point \u2013 with little regard for how their buildings will mesh in with the surrounding cityscape. Novelty can result in over-scaled buildings that poke out; too much of it, and you risk creating a skyline that looks higgledy-piggledy.<\/p>\n Architect Robert Mills, who is based in Melbourne, says there has been a strong return to classical styles in recent years, with at least 50 per cent of his clients now commissioning homes and buildings in traditional styles. While acknowledging the shortage of skilled artisans such as stonemasons and plasterers, Mills says that automation in trades like stonemasonry is leading to new efficiencies and reduced cost.<\/p>\n Classic architecture has also been hamstrung in the past, he says, because of the false perception it\u2019s somehow \u201cright-wing\u201d to design in this style. \u201cIn the past, if you designed in the classical style you\u2019d risk being ostracised by some architects,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n![\"The](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/au\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/12\/3d23b7f173fb9af22ac0298b3e22a90aabb3d578.jpeg\")
The Federal Coffee Palace, Melbourne, in the 1890s. It was demolished in 1973.<\/p>\n
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