STATE KAINGAS.

Auckland Star, Volume LXXI, Issue 73, 27 March 1940, Page 6

STATE KAINGAS.

SOCIABLE TOWNSHIPS.

PLAIN AND FANCY.

GREAT VARIETY OF DESIGN.

(By J.C.)

Some of the State house* in a m w Auckland suburb have been criti.-if.eu in the Press for their box-like apr.e.iranee and lack of aesthetic perception on the part of tlieir designers. >"<> doubt it would have been letter had more artistry been displayed in tarit quarter; but financial considerations .10 doubt governed the building plan. One would have liked, by way of variety, to have seen the Maori-kainga scheme used to some extent in these places.

A Maori whare blond* admirably with its surroundings wherever a touch of nature lias been preserved. But a wfliole village built on such a plan would be tiresome to the pakeha. and the neighbours would l>e apt to nickname it "Hauhau Town."' The average pakeha looking for house room would prefer the conventional suburban cottage with a bow-window. ISSO vintage. Bnt there is much of artistry and beauty in many of the State houses I have seen; and there is a variety of design that does credit to the au-hi-tecis. The other Sunday w. view.."! on .1 run out from Wellington city to the hill suburb of Khandallali a charming varietv pf new Home- Tor workers, with not a bow-window among the many scores we saw. The new residential quarter is along Onslow Road, a loni: highway extended considerably from the original road, named after a former Governor. It slightly conforms to a hilly contour on the west side of Wellington Harbour, and mounts up to about 500 feet above the sea. It twists and turns, but it is well-graded, and it is convenient of access by motor bus from the citv. All along this, road and on its many short lateral roads there arc the new homes, edged in among the hill quarters of older suburban dwellers. The hills are for the most part nare of trees, until you climb up to Khandallah, where some of the original hush remains and the older residents have cultivated beauty and have embowered themselves in trees. No Space For Trees. The Onslow Road scheme has no space for trees. The sections are pocket handkerchiefs; so many houseless people, clamouring for homes, have had to l>c provided for that the utmost use has had to Ik; made of every acre acquired for the purpose. Sot the utmost possible, however, the houses do not jostle each other so closely as in some of the older suburbs, Lyall Bay, for example, where unrestricted private enterprise in building a generation ago produced a breathlessly crowded residential quarter, without beauty or variety packed on a level mile of sand. In a Valley of the Hills. On one squared-off hilltop look-out along Onslow Road we pulled up and looked down into a little valley that contained a sociable-seeming kainga of State dwellings. It quite captured the fancy, that hamlet of brand-new homes with" their toy gardens. Originally a rough gully of native vegetation, and a thread of a stresim at the bottom, it is now cut up into a score or more of State sections facing each other, slanting down to the central stream bed. just a step across, now converted into a stormwater drain closely disciplined under concrete. The new houses stood at the top of the gardenlets; each was as pretty as a picture, each was different from its neighbour; each roof was decorative as "'fancy" tiles could make it. Those rooftops called forth admiration, they gave so artistic a finish to the dwelling. Blue and green and pink and terracotta, and pawa-shell iridescence. The corrugated-iron roof we know so well would lie shamed out of existence here. If these State homes are rented cheaply they certainly do not look cheap. But everything here is in miniature; the families presumably are not large. This Sunday, breathlessly fine, all the husbands are out in their little sloping plots of ground, busy with spade and hoe 'aud rake; the women are attending to their little clothes lines. Conversation with the opposite numbers across the glenlet is, easy; morning gossip travels far. There no doubt are motor garages somewhere, but we don't see them; there is little room available for such luxuries. But there is plenty at home to occupy these new settlers from the city. They take pride in their gardens, and we can well imagine the amiable rivalry among the flower growers, and the vegetable raisers, too; indeed, the potatoes and parsnips, the cabbages and lettuces, get the chief share of the growers' attention. It is. we imagine, a perfectly happy little community, an example of State Socialism at its best, with just enough room for individual effort in beautifying and a trifle of food raising. Healthy Surroundings. The group of habitants perforce must cultivate each other's society; everyone knows something of the other's business and pleasures. There is no possibility of retiring into a shell, a protective shade of trees, for the raising of high hedges is forbidden in the terms of State lease. The shrubs and trees must be small; I do not think a pohutukawa or a bluegum could be planted there. Dogs, I believe, are warned off; they certainly are not here. The only wild life it is possible to hunt here is the white butterfly. This is far, far better, for all Hs restrictions and governing regulations, than the old precarious dwelling in a high-rented town flat or a racketty dwelling in an airless city street. The glorious view from these high places a few steps out of doors and the free, healthy atmosphere, the healthiest in the world, surely, are worth a pound extra in the rent.