An open letter to stadium designers

The announcement about a complete rebuild of Parramatta Stadium has me dreaming dreams. For a long-time cynic like me, that’s quite an admission.

Someone once told me I could cynic for Australia. I politely told them I didn’t think that was possible for a number of reasons.

But having followed the debate fairly closely, it seems clear that, after the promised upgrades (my those taps are lovely) and the fact that a committee with Stuart Ayres on it can still see fit to opt for a Parramatta rebuild, there’s a general recognition that Parramatta is the place for a ‘world class’ stadium.

The centre of the Sydney Basin, with a CBD and transport links in every direction, will have an upgrade to serve the growing needs of Western Sydney.

And with it being first cab off the rank in the NSW government’s plans, if anything’s going to happen (I told you I was a cynic), it’s got every chance of going ahead.

So out there, somewhere, hordes of architects and engineers are sharpening their pencils, polishing their set squares, checking their thesauruses for synonyms of ‘experience’, ‘immersion’ and ‘futuristic’ and putting together tenders.

This article is a plea to them – to ask that they prove this old cynic wrong and create something not only ‘world class’ but also something that meets the needs and expectations of the punters the stadium is actually going to serve.

As a Wanderers fan first and foremost, I personally have something of a shopping list – but it’s a list of items that I believe should be front and centre of any plans.

The first of these is to future proof the stadium. Now I don’t care if you’ve got visions of birds nests or bubbles or Babylonian bathyspheres or any other striking features that will cause people waiting in architecture firm lobbies the world around to pause briefly and nod appreciatively while flicking through the latest copy of Architecture Weekly.

Personally I think it’s a waste of money to insist on such follies, money that could be spent elsewhere, but I’m not going to be winning a tender myself and it’s the kind of thing politicians, and others who only attend sporting events to network in corporate areas, go for.

So I recognise that the likelihood is high that we’ll get something ‘striking’. All I ask is that the design includes the capacity for easy expansion at a later date. This is vital when looking at this – Western Sydney is growing, and growing fast, and both major tenants have big fan-bases.

Famously this kind of forethought was not the case in Melbourne – the foundations of AAMI can support expansion; that iconic roof, well, it’s not so forgiving.

This brings me to me next point – iconicity. I mean… iconicness. Er… well, you guys have those thesauruses, you know what I mean. Now I don’t want to begrudge you your chance to create something visionary and unique. But please, don’t give me any of this absurd design stuff about recalling Guggenheim’s love of ambient space reflected in the synchronicity of the geometric shapes.

The location of Parramatta Stadium is fantastic – on the bend of the river in parkland but within stone’s throw of a vibrant and expanding CBD. Make use of it. Personally, I love the way that the new generation of American stadiums manage to situate themselves as part of a wider community through their design.

Now bear with me here everyone else (or accuse me of hypocrisy). What they do is allow a window out into their location – glorious views of city skylines or natural features abound. In those stadiums, the spectator is connected to their local community, and what’s more, the local community is connected too.

I love the idea of people being able to walk down O’Connell Street past the stadium and wander across a plaza to have a glimpse inside through a lowered corner, much in the way people currently climb the hill above the northern end. And I love the idea that, sitting in the stadium, there would be something very individual about it – a look out into the wider world, and what is fast becoming a recognisable skyline.

If you are not sure what I mean, have a look at some of the sketches for David Beckham’s original proposed stadium in Miami. It’s a beautiful symbiotic conversation between the city and…. er… excuse me. Sorry about that.

Now. Did I say sitting? Because I meant standing. What the knockdown also provides the opportunity for is to look at the option of safe standing in one of the ends (yes, one, why let the away fans enjoy it?). The concept is foreign to Australia (although a fair few people actually do prefer unsafe standing at suburban grounds, the last bastions of the ‘hill’), and this is largely because there is not the same kind of supporter culture that exists in Europe or South America.

Of course, it does exist in the form of the RBB, and every man, woman and child in there is crying out for it. The Germans famously do it, and employ rail seating, which means that seats can be flipped down when required. With the seats up, though, supporters can stand at leisure – as they do now, less comfortably – and, crucially, more can fit in.

A 30,000 all-seater stadium could easily become a 32,000 capacity venue, with the most vocal fans packed in, safely. I suspect a lot of important people need to be convinced of this, but, dear budding architect, the answers can all be found at the Football Supporters’ Federation Safe Standing Campaign (phew), so please have a read, and get on board. You want those nice arty sketches with all the flags and cheering fans to become a reality, a stadium with an atmosphere that can’t be beaten? This is part of the answer.

The other part is two-fold – a steep rake and a nice roof. Please. I’m not sure what goes on with Australian stadium design in general but it appears we like our stadiums to be wide bowls. It really doesn’t help matters.

Now, I’m not asking for La Bombonera here, but you have to consider that the footprint of Parramatta Stadium is actually quite narrow, fitting as it does into surrounding parkland. I would hope that this necessitates some steep stands, but just in case it doesn’t, take this opportunity to create a stadium where the sight lines and distance to the pitch are second to none for as many spectators as possible.

And keep them comfy. While I don’t mind being hailed on and rained on and am happy to run the risk of being struck by lightning, not everybody is so foolhardy. So let’s have a roof that does the job of keeping the noise in and the elements out, unlike a lot of our stadiums which seem to invite them in with frilly writing, scented paper and embossed envelopes.

So that’s the dream then, and I certainly hope at least some of it becomes a reality. Over to you architects, see what you can do to knock some cynicism right out of me. And thank me later when you are picking up that award from Architecture Weekly.