These approaches meet in the entry courtyard that occupies the site of the former boiler room, demolished in 1984. The ghost presence of the boiler hall can be inferred from the thickness of low remnant perimeter walls and the scarified twelve metre high wall to the turbine room, which is now the entry elevation. A counterpoint to the brutality of this old disfiguration of the building is provided by relatively delicate new insertions, like Robyn Backen's installation of Morse Code lanterns within formerly functional wall penetrations. Within the building there is a dual strategy of respectful preservation of the cultural patina punctuated by robust intervention where necessary. While jackhammers and oxy torches punch some raw new openings in the massive structure, the remnant mechanisms of the powerhouse's working life and the graffiti tags, profanities and artworks from the powerhouse's derelict years are non-judgementally preserved for posterity.
New work is blunt and purposeful.
Structure, services, surveyor's marks, and post-construction graffiti are overlaid as the most recent inscriptions on the palimpsest of the building. There is a forthright vitality to the detailing that manages to sidestep judgements of tastefulness or tattiness. From the central entry into the old turbine room there is a direct view through to the foyer bar and the Brisbane River beyond. The south-western end of the turbine room is a huge foyer void encompassing a performance plateau formed by the raised ceiling of the lower 200 seat thrust theatre. To the north-east a 400 seat flexible theatre has been slid into the building, allowing remnant roof structure and materials to be cannibalised to repair the southern foyer structure.