Northern exposure

PHOTOS Greg Cox PRODUCTION Etienne Hanekom WORDS Johan van Zyl

Architect Leon Barnard was responsible for Windhoek’s tallest and first-ever green skyscraper, but for himself he built “an ordinary, basic barn with bedrooms at both ends”.

Leon Barnard is obsessed with water and shade and courtyards – just like Sri Lankan architect Geoffrey Bawa whose work he so admires. (He also happens to be a Pisces.)

Still, if you really want to get to grips with his fixation on water, you need only wander through the city centre’s streets on a blistering day and then walk around The Village, the urban-renewal project. In this small-town network of once dilapidated buildings, now connected by a network of paths, courtyards and water features, the Namibian capital looks and feels at least 10°C cooler.

Continuing in the same vein is Leon’s own home on the outskirts of this development. At the street-level entrance of his refreshing green oasis, wooden steps lead down to a koi pond, which you cross to gain entry to the barn-like structure with its facades that open up completely.

On the other side of the house – directly opposite the pond – is the swimming pool. When you recline, Lotto winner-style, in the old barber’s chair between these two pools of water, you soon forget it is 36°C outside.

Plants that can resist the heat

Leon supplemented the existing plant growth with mostly indigenous, drought-resistant plants, including fever trees, camel thorns, Karoo thorns and acacias, that provide much-needed shade. In the front garden, together with a few fig, olive and citrus trees, is the herb garden where you can help yourself by simply sliding open the kitchen window.

This is no traditional freestanding home, says Leon. “It was built by my personal angel Gabriel, Gabriël Theophilus, within the context of The Village as a tribute to the local vernacular, natural plant growth, geological characteristics and fantastic views, but with a contemporary twist.”

Climate control

Many of the climate- and energy-control principles used in The Village are also employed in Leon’s own home and the new skyscraper (home to the Namibian headquarters of Old Mutual, Nedbank and Mutual & Federal).

The house faces north so that, in summer, the sun effectively passes overhead (while making the most of the view); the ceiling is sky high; the corrugated-iron roof is painted white to reflect sunlight; between the roof and ceiling rests a thick layer of polystyrene; and the cross ventilation is as good as it gets. All that remains to be added is a canvas awning at the back that folds out in summer to keep the veranda, with its lovely camel thorn and open-fire kettle, cool.

In winter the awning will fold back again to allow in as much sunlight as possible. Solar panels on the roof takes care of hot water all year round and for the underfloor heating needed during Windhoek’s short but, at times, bitingly cold winters.

“The city kind of pulled the wool over my eyes,” recounts Leon over a glass of wine. “The first time I vacationed here was also the last time it rained…” He grins. “But once you’re living here, you realise the value of water. That’s why rain gets celebrated in Namibia. It’s a real happening. Children shed their clothes and dance outside completely naked.”

The biggest challenge was the steep slope that stretches to the neighbours’ backyards. This, coupled with security concerns, led to the building of retaining walls that resulted in a practical platform for the house and garden.

He calls these gabions “simple, earthy technology”, negating the need for expensive engineering. “They allow for the movement of light, water can flow through, plants can grow and they are roughly 60% cheaper in Windhoek, where there’s an abundance of stone. It’s also the perfect solution to get rid of construction rubble.”

Belief in buildings

Not even a second glass of wine can induce Leon to intellectualise architecture. “Oh no. Architecture that looks fantastic and clever on paper is actually vanity. Here in Namibia, you’re constantly aware of people that don’t have. So, to eventually manage the budgets, building sites, contractors and politics, has more to do with understanding human nature and pragmatism than approaching it as an intellectual exercise.

“Despite all the city’s wonderful advantages, one has to learn to improvise because so much is simply not available. You therefore have to be clever with what you do have – I sometimes incorporate stone in a design because, firstly, there is so much of it around and, secondly, I know craftsmen who are brilliant with stone but are unemployed.”

Two weeks after my return to Cape Town I spot eight sentences in my notes, eight sentences that all start with “I believe”. And that is how, very unobtrusively, this South African-born alumnus of the Nelson Mandela Metropolitan University tabled his architectural manifesto. We’re calling it the Eight Architectural Commandments of Leon Barnard:

• I believe 100% in the integration between the outdoors and indoors. My house is really just a gazebo that can close up.
• I believe in minimalism and am not fond of colour. Simplicity is timeless.
• I believe in one-space living. I don’t ever again want to reside in a home that has many small rooms, each with its specific function. This restricts you. Pins you down.
• I believe a home is a place of refuge. You need to be able to relax there and recharge your batteries.
• I believe in positive outdoor spaces and a conversation between buildings, reflecting a community’s integration (or lack thereof).
• I believe in local: local weather, local labour, local materials, local people, local things.
• I believe in something I was taught as a student in the Eastern Cape: A building must make a beautiful ruin.
• I believe a home should be exposed, be able to open up completely. This reflects where you are in life. Open and transparent. What you see is what you get.

Leon Barnard Architects 00 26 46 124 0405, leon@leonbarnard.com