Wellington Railway Station


Building: Wellington Railway Station

Location: Bunny St

Construction dates: 1934-1937

Architect: Gray Young, Morton and Young

Builders: The Fletcher Construction Company

When it opened in 1937, the Wellington Railway Station was the largest public building in New Zealand. It comprised 250 rooms, covered five acres and required 1.75 million bricks and 1500 tonnes of granite and marble. Designed in line with studies of seismic effects on buildings in Japan, it was also the first New Zealand structure of such a scale to include comprehensive measures in earthquake resistance.

The Station was built on land reclaimed in 1876 and sits on a Coromandel granite base and concrete reinforced piles which are grounded on the original harbour bed. Immense and imposing, this neo-Georgian classical style building was once lauded by The Dominion as the finest public building in the country. Dominated by a colonnade of eight massive Doric columns (standing at 13 metres), the front entrance of the station is architecturally iconic. Other highlights include the beautifully coloured ceramic tiled panels on the exterior; the high, coffered, arched ceiling of the booking hall and the compass design on its Whangarei marble terrazzo floor; as well as the original detailing, joinery and fittings.

A protected heritage site, the Wellington Railway Station certainly reflects the historical importance of railways in New Zealand during the first half of the twentieth century. Replacing Wellington's two former stations, Lambton and Thorndon, it was designed to be the head office of the Railway Department, and initially accommodated 675 New Zealand Railways staff. According to Euan McQueen, chairman of the Rail Heritage Trust Board, in the 1950's "there were six trains from Wellington to Auckland on Christmas Eve. It wasn't just that people didn't have cars; they got hot on the hills and broke down." Today, the station is mostly used by commuters to and from the northern suburbs of Khandallah, Johnsonville, the Kapiti Coast and the Hutt Valley. In 2000, Tranz Rail (a private business consortium which purchased New Zealand Rail in 1993) transferred its head office to Auckland, ending 63 years of the station's offices being used for railway purposes. All office space is now let, and following a $14.6 million upgrade in 2003-2004, the station's newest tenants include Victoria University's Faculty of Commerce and Administration Office and Toll New Zealand Limited.

While the Wellington Railway Station remains New Zealand's busiest terminal, its booking hall - the most architecturally striking part of the building, is sadly underused. In fact, no booking takes place here at all and aside from one corner being occupied by a drab little store selling luggage and offering to do shoe and leather repairs, the hall is vacant; each of its counters closed up and gathering dust. Several minutes of observation is long enough to witness a number of confused travellers wander about, peering in darkened windows, looking for signs of life. On the morning I visited a couple of pigeons flapped about in the vast space overhead, making the hall feel closer to a church than a busy transportation hub. A building supposedly "held in high esteem by the public", we are given no reason to linger and appreciate the architectural and historical value of this commanding space. Instead, streams of people simply pass through here as they enter and exit the station, eyes remaining steadfastly on the doors ahead. So, why not use this space as a booking hall, as intended? Why not include a quality caf� with terrace-style seating? Why not install information services for tourists?

Once described as "reminiscent of a Roman bathhouse (and New York's Grand Central station)," there is no doubting the buildings architectural appeal. Sure, if we're honest Wellington's Railway Station is never going to have the allure, drama and romance of New York's iconic station but it could certainly be more than it is currently. After all, for public architecture to live up to its name, both functionally and symbolically, it must be used and enjoyed by the public.