For more than 60,000 years, First Nations Australians have fostered a deep relationship with the land, developing structures that merge with the natural environment. These traditional design principles, rooted in sustainability and cultural narratives, continue to inform contemporary architecture.

Architecture is an expression. It can act as an explanation of its surroundings or contradict and defy them. Whichever the case, it articulates a sense of place – an imprint of identity. 

Australian design embraces materiality as a critical component in shaping its architectural identity. It is deeply rooted in the landscape and Indigenous design principles. The choice of materials reflects both aesthetic and functional considerations, as well as a broader cultural and environmental responsiveness. Across diverse regions, architects rely upon materials that engage with the surrounding environment, reinforcing a sense of place.

“Working with Indigenous design principles is absolutely key to architectural practice today in Australia,” University of Melbourne School of Design director Philip Goad says. “Their influence will undoubtedly grow as these principles are being actively embraced by all schools of architecture around Australia.” Goad says working on Country is an honour, and “all of us have a responsibility to learn more and apply such principles while educating our clients on their importance”.

Materiality speaks the language of the land

In arid inland landscapes, weathered steel and rammed earth are often utilised for their ability to withstand harsh conditions while deftly integrating with the natural terrain. The warm, rusted patina of weathered steel mimics the ochre tones of the outback, imbuing a visual and material connection to the land. Rammed earth walls provide thermal mass, regulating internal temperatures in response to extreme climate variations.

Conversely, coastal architecture embraces naturally light materials such as timber and sandstone, which combat the salty air and changing light conditions. Expansive glazing and open-plan layouts are often used to bring the outside in, assuaging the finite feel of solid walls while encouraging natural ventilation that reinforces a connection to the ocean and surrounding environment.

“The increased use of local Australian timbers like blackbutt, spotted gum and others for flooring and veneers for joinery has been fantastic,” Goad says. “But the challenge for the future is where and how we source timber for functions like framing and structure. This is where Australian designers should be making use of innovative LVL (Laminated Veneer Lumber) timber technologies and trying to avoid importing materials where possible.” 

Goad says we should be questioning every material: where is this brick coming from? Does its manufacture have implications for the planet? Will it last? Do I really need marble from Italy for my kitchen benchtop, or should I be searching for a more sustainable alternative?

Shelley Penn, respected architect and urbanist, echoes this sentiment: “For decades, there’s been a shift towards greater engagement with landscape, moving beyond architecture as an isolated object to designing with place in mind. This aligns with Indigenous principles of designing with Country.”

Penn sees a growing influence of Indigenous expertise on major projects and believes it will continue. “Government agencies, in particular, are often at the forefront in setting policies and objectives for integrating Indigenous knowledge, though it’s imperfect, and implementation on the ground can be inconsistent,” she says. “A leading example is New South Wales requiring Indigenous expertise in the design of major projects like Circular Quay. There’s still variability elsewhere, but consultancies like Blaklash, led by First Nations experts, are also driving real progress through their work.”

Materiality in Australian architecture is more than just a practical choice – it’s a means of storytelling, reflecting the natural, cultural and historical narratives of the place in which a building stands. Through considered selection and application of materials, architects create structures that are inherently Australian, perpetuating a deep connection between people, buildings and the land.

A perfect example of this is Greenaway Architects’ project Ngarara Place at RMIT University in Melbourne, a striking project that integrates cultural storytelling with natural materials and sustainability to create a meaningful gathering space. The Walumba Elders Centre in Western Australia, designed by Iredale Pedersen Hook Architects, is another example of a sensitive reflection of place, community and resilience. Through inspiring projects like these, architects are embedding Indigenous principles into the fabric of Australia’s urban and regional landscapes.

The modernist legacy and international influence

Twentieth-century modernism has also played a part in shaping Australian architecture, with pioneers like Harry Seidler and Robin Boyd bringing international design principles into the local context. These architects championed the use of open-plan layouts, passive design strategies and material innovations tailored to Australia’s unique climate and lifestyle.

“Mid-century modernism continues to be significant in Australia today, first and foremost in the way indoor/outdoor living has been embraced and in breaking down interior barriers with the use of open-plan living. This was a new informality in the 1950s, and it continues to resonate today,” Goad says.

The Rose Seidler House, completed in 1950, represented a pivotal moment in Australian modernist design. Inspired by Bauhaus principles, it embraced the bush setting and introduced a new way of living, confirming contemporary architecture’s place in Australia. In 1990, Glenn Murcutt’s Marika-Alderton House continued with this philosophy, demonstrating how lightweight, elevated structures could respond to the tropical climate with a light touch on the land. Shunning temporal boundaries, these projects continue to influence contemporary architects seeking to blend international inspiration with local adaptation.

An example of this is Krakani Lumi in Tasmania, designed by Taylor and Hinds in collaboration with the Aboriginal Land Council of Tasmania in 2017. This cultural retreat utilises charred timber and brass in its construction, paying homage to Indigenous cultural burning practices, such as cool burning. The project melts into the landscape, welcoming the waft of eucalyptus and visions of deep, ink-blue skies at night. Through such projects, Australian architects continue to craft spaces that are both contextually and environmentally sensitive.

What does the future hold for Australian design?

Looking ahead, Australian design is poised for greater experimentation, sustainable innovation and cultural inclusivity.

Goad is optimistic: “I can see Australian architects having the capacity to lead global innovation in environmentally responsive design, but clients need to have that same vision, and so should builders and regulators. It cannot be architects alone. The market (and government) must be encouraged and have the guts to embrace that same sense of responsibility. Mass production of houses, for example, is a pressing issue, but it should not be achieved at the cost of the planet.”

Penn concurs: “Rather than obsessing over finer design details, the profession can lead on solving larger social challenges, such as housing affordability and sustainable urban development.”

By continuing to respond to climate, culture and technology, Australian architects and designers are crafting a built environment that is distinct, sustainable and deeply connected to place, with an eye on what’s to come. 

Lead image by Glenn Murcutt: Marika-Alderton House, Eastern Arnhem Land, Northern Territory 1990-94

Read more on collaboration with First Nations projects on ADR.