Interiors: a room with a ewe

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2013/jan/04/interiors-room-with-a-ewe

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At first glance, the sheep shearers' quarters on a rugged farm in Bruny Island, Tasmania, is just another corrugated-iron shed. But inside it's a gable-roofed, timber-clad home filled with mid-century furniture and a collection of antiquarian books. The small but beguiling building by Melbourne architect John Wardle leans back into the hills, away from the coastline, its aged pine interior glowing on bleak winter days.

Wardle first visited Bruny Island, which is accessible by ferry from mainland Tasmania, while on a family holiday as a teenager. He bought the sheep farm (complete with 2,000 sheep) and its colonial-era farmhouse, Waterview, 10 years ago. As well as a working farm, the property is a getaway for Wardle, his wife Susan and their three children, as well as for his studio's staff. The family visit at least once a month and for all every holiday.

Shearers have been coming to Waterview since the 1840s. Today, a team of up to eight visit twice a year, in spring and autumn, to harvest the wool, and Wardle realised they needed somewhere to sleep. The original quarters burned down in the 1980s; five years ago, Wardle began designing a replacement, researching the history of the local Huon Valley region for inspiration. Exterior materials play with the traditional shed form – the familiar corrugated iron, a chimney made from convict-era bricks, and timber louvres (slatted shutters) along the western wall. "The louvres are for ventilation, as well as a nod to the breezeways, or enclosed verandas, that the most lowly shearers – 'roustabouts' as they're called – sleep in," Wardle says.

Inside is an open-plan living area and kitchen, two bedrooms, a bunkroom and a bathroom/laundry. Drawing on the farm's rich history for materials as well as ideas, the walls and ceiling are clad in pine collected from rural windbreaks, while floorboards are hewn from recycled yellow stringbark timber. In a nod to the apple orchard that existed on the property until the 1960s, the bedrooms and bunkroom are clad in apple-crate timber. "When Britain joined the common market in 1973, many of the small family orchards around here closed overnight. We would visit sheds and find perfect 50-year-old timber piled up ready to make the next day's apple boxes. We started to buy them up and they became shingle panelling for the bedrooms."

The kitchen, in keeping with the rest of the house, is as compact as possible. The single bench is about a metre deep, with a higher level at the back for a toaster, kettle and so on, and a front level for food preparation. The table has an old apple grading machine from the 1940s as its base, with recycled hardwood for the tabletop.

A collection of 1960s Hans Wegner chairs take in the views through huge windows. And for chilly nights in front of the fire, wrought-iron bookshelves, made by a local welder and hung on wooden dowels, house an eclectic collection of antiquarian books.

Throughout the house the light is mostly natural and soft – artificial lighting is kept to a minimum; the louvres close off the harsh western sun and the sheltered veranda provides deep eaves to temper the strong northern light.

A mixture of coastline, agricultural land and forest, the farm was run down when Wardle took it on, and the first few years were devoted to land restoration. More than 6,000 native eucalyptuses, acacias, banksias and casuarina trees have been replanted from seed stock collected on the property, reforesting the eroded soil and providing a haven for local birds such as the endangered 40-spotted pardalote and the swift parrot.

Livestock makes a regular appearance – "We're in the middle of a paddock, so we have sheep wandering past all the time" – and the overall effect is a tranquil yet robust space for the shearers and other guests who pass through. In winter, the cold, sunny climate is suited to long walks and tree-planting. And the sea is warm enough to swim in from November to April, and abundant with crayfish, abalone and wild oysters.

"The farm haunts us when we're in the city and would rather be down here," Wardle says. "It's one of those places that stays in your mind whether you're there or not."