Design Office has designed themselves a new office that most certainly performs its typological function, but more interestingly, it borrows from residential, hospitality and retail design, culminating in a space that feels at once domestic and curated, but never pretentious. Stemming from Mark Simpson and Damien Mulvihill’s decades of experience, the Collingwood interior has been realised largely through intuitive decisions and a motivation to create a comfortable atmosphere for their 12-person team that is reflective of the founders’ personal tastes. It could be considered the outcome of their accumulated knowledge, and the project comes across as an effortless expression of the Design Office persona.
There is rigour in the minute stair detailing, kookiness in the bathroom, a respect for the warehouse heritage in the raw materials, an appreciation for nature in the green terrace, and a restraint in the carefully chosen mid-grey tones (true white and black are avoided). “Aside from colour-pops in a few decorative pieces, everything blends in or seems to disappear,” says Mulvihill. A sense of delight is present but not overt. A love for their neighbourhood and a welcoming attitude are exemplified by the large glazing and signed entry at the laneway, which impart a bit of theatre, too.
The informal (yet highly professional) working dynamic is encouraged through the communal work desks downstairs and the vast table upstairs, where Simpson and Mulvihill derive delight from seeing staff gather regularly for home-cooked lunches. Unexpectedly, yet very intentionally, the staircase with its large landing area has also been designed as a space to hang out. Simpson explains: “We love utilising level changes in our work. For this tight floorplan, we asked ourselves how we could create a level you could sit on or occupy. Our staircase is far more than a device to go up or down. We often discover that someone’s sort of halfway on the landing, or the dog’s lying there.” In this way, conversations are not only horizontal across the office; they’re vertical. These spatial decisions were also inspired by the founders’ experiences working in Europe, as well as their designs for The Commons, where communal, casual interactions are encouraged by design.
This informal attitude seems to underpin the entire modest floorplan and its circulation, which is based on successes observed in their prior (larger) office spaces. There is no reception desk or private office for the founders – they sit at the large table with staff and can wave to visitors coming in for meetings. Connection is key: I can hear staff laughing downstairs while Simpson, Mulvihill and I chat upstairs. Design Office’s understanding of consumer psychology plays a role in such elements as the floating table near the entry, which acts as a comfortable waiting area while giving off a domestic air. There might be a vase of flowers or some coffee sitting there, and it immediately feels like its “your” zone; you’re not in the way and you’re welcome to hang out. As the space was a former residence, it exudes a certain homeliness – an emotional atmosphere Simpson and Mulvihill have embraced: “when you come in, you’re essentially invited into our home … comfort drives all of our designs,” says Mulvihill.
The most significant division of space is achieved vertically and via the stair intervention. “We think level changes change the way you inhabit space,” says Simpson. While work, meetings and social gatherings can comfortably occur anywhere in the space, the downstairs zone is predominantly for work, while upstairs is best for sketching, dining, meetings and sun-lounging on the terrace. Light transitions also create distinctions and are amplified by the design that works with north-facing daylight, while at night, the space feels totally different – the passage of time is noted, as opposed to being controlled by consistent office lighting.
There’s a natural and pleasant flow to the interior that’s derived from Simpson’s and Mulvihill’s deep understanding of user journey, and more specifically, their goal to ensure needs and moods are catered for along the way. Retail psychology is drawn on, too. “Retail operators often talk about ‘the first three steps’: when you enter a retail store, you should be able to walk three steps and feel comfortable,” explains Simpson.
Green space and ample natural light are inherent to this sense of ease. The generous upstairs terrace brings sunlight and views of lush green plants inside, and it furthers the domestic atmosphere. The subtle embracing of heritage materials like exposed brickwork and plaster, which have been retained to the datum, and the introduction of an oiled cork floor that will patinate with use, feel intimate, too. Simpson says that “these decisions are based on us being okay with the way materials age – it’s not about perfection.” But this is undoubtably a rigorous, contemporary space within a heritage shell. The designers relish this temporal tension, saying they prefer to work with existing narratives as a constraint. “We like responding to the ‘weird’ that’s there originally – working out how to relate to it and let it be, as opposed to making everything new.”
Make no mistake – this is an architect’s space. Simpson and Mulvihill take great joy in the tiny “human” moments, like the 1.5-millimetre V-grooves on the lower timber and cork stairs that were fashioned by a furniture maker. “It’s like something you’d see on an Italian speedboat,” laughs Mulvihill. This detail might be intangible to most, but it’s emblematic of Design Office’s blend of precision and quirk. I hope the office dog doesn’t chew the edges.