❋Design

2026 National Architecture Awards - A MEASURED OPTIMISM

This year's National Architecture Awards make the case that good buildings are acts of quiet trust, a persuasive argument, and one worth holding to account.

There is a line in this year's jury commentary that arguably deserves to outlast the ceremony: there is no such thing as "no design," contends the jury, chaired by Adam Haddow, only good design and bad, the difference lying in whether anyone paused to consider how a building might improve the lives within and around it. It is a quietly radical position that removes the alibi of the default and asks every client, developer and practice to own what they leave unconsidered.

From that premise, a headline emerged to distill the sentiment not only of the 2026 National Architecture Awards, but the perspective on architecture in the current vernacular: architecture is optimistic. The jury found hope in the projects it visited, in communities challenging assumptions and architects treating engagement as a pleasure rather than a procedure, in briefs exceeded rather than merely met, and the word that recurs throughout its commentary is joy.

It would be easy to be cynical about a word like that in a year like this, but it would also be lazy, because the projects carrying the narrative largely earn it.

Yitpi Yartapuultiku (The Soul of Port Adelaide) by Ashley Halliday Architects. Photography by Peter-Bennetts.

Yitpi Yartapuultiku (The Soul of Port Adelaide) by Ashley Halliday Architects. Photography by Peter-Bennetts.

Yitpi Yartapuultiku (The Soul of Port Adelaide), by Ashley Halliday Architects together with the Yitpi Yartapuultiku Aboriginal Working Group and Wax Design, takes the Sir Zelman Cowen Award for Public Architecture, the David Oppenheim Award for Sustainable Architecture and the COLORBOND Award for Steel Architecture, a rare triple honour for a single building, and one that signals the conviction of a jury that public value, cultural authorship and environmental performance are not competing priorities but a single argument.

Taylor and Hinds Architects' Ablutions and Homestead Renewal. Photography by Adam Gibson.

Taylor and Hinds Architects' Ablutions and Homestead Renewal. Photography by Adam Gibson.

Taylor and Hinds Architects' Ablutions and Homestead Renewal. Photography by Adam Gibson.

The Special Jury Prize, for Taylor and Hinds Architects' Ablutions and Homestead Renewal at Wybalenna with the Aboriginal Land Council of Tasmania, is the quieter recognition, and perhaps the more profound, anchored by truth-telling and forty-thousand years of unbroken culture, the remediation project holds the balance of a horrific history with the hope of a future balm. Wybalenna, on Flinders Island, carries one of the heaviest histories in the colonial record. That the jury chose to honour an ablutions block and a homestead there, work of care rather than spectacle, says much about where it located architectural value. Its phrase for these partnerships, architect and community "holding the pen together", resonates. The harder question though is how this model becomes standard procurement rather than exceptional practice.

Green Square Public School and Community Spaces by BVN. Photography by Martin Siegner.

Green Square Public School and Community Spaces by BVN. Photography by Martin Siegner.

BVN's Green Square Public School and Community Spaces, winner of the Daryl Jackson Award for Educational Architecture, carries what reads as the jury's most pointed idea: that at a moment of public suspicion, buildings can choose to assume the best of people, leaving courts open after hours and sharing facilities rather than fencing them off. It is a generous thesis and a fragile one, because trust in a building's users must be matched by trust in its maintenance budget, and the truest measure of this year's optimism will be what remains visible in a decade from now.

Eric Street by Officer Woods. Photography by Robert Frith.

Eric Street by Officer Woods. Photography by Robert Frith

Eric Street by Officer Woods. Photography by Robert Frith

Eric Street by Officer Woods. Photography by Robert Frith

The jury's "more modest homes" narrative, including Officer Woods Architects' Eric Street (Robin Boyd Award), ME's Woodside Cottage, Partners Hill's Studio8, makes a fair case that smaller can definitley mean better, and that living well in Australia still means living partly outdoors. Yet the houses category remains, by its very nature, a conversation about the few rather than the multiple. The more consequential housing story of 2026 sits in Multiple Housing: Smart Design Studio's Lacebark (Frederick Romberg Award), 443 Queen St by WOHA with Architectus and Kris Kowalski Architects, Six Degrees Architects' Merri Northcote, and NEOMETRO with MA+Co's 9 Wilson Ave, Brunswick.

9 Wilson Avenue by Neometro. Photography by Tom Ross.

9 Wilson Avenue by Neometro. Photography by Tom Ross.

Open Journal readers will know 9 Wilson Ave well. What the national jury has recognised is seventy-one dwellings, each dual aspect, arranged as two buildings around a shared courtyard, with thirteen loft apartments woven throughout; a blush-red concrete façade that takes its cue from Brunswick's brickmaking past; and a former industrial backstreet recast as a pedestrian boulevard linking Sydney Road to Jewell Station. Measured against the jury's own criteria, which included inclusion, connection to place, design thinking applied to the everyday, it is a project that reads less as a residential building than as a piece of urban repair.

Further by MORQ. Photography by Tommaso Riva and Givlio Aristide.

Further by MORQ. Photography by Tommaso Riva and Givlio Aristide.

Further by MORQ. Photography by Tommaso Riva and Givlio Aristide.

Further by MORQ. Photography by Tommaso Riva and Givlio Aristide.

Further by MORQ. Photography by Tommaso Riva and Givlio Aristide.

Familiar collaborators surface elsewhere in the list. MORQ, the Rome- and Perth-based studio behind Neometro's 49 Walsh Street, receives the Australian Award for International Architecture for Further in Indonesia, while Fieldwork, architects of 1 Wilson Ave, is commended for 65 Dover Street, Cremorne.

On sustainability the jury is admirably blunt: no project could win a national award without it, and Yitpi Yartapuultiku, Lacebark, and Woods Bagot's The Forest and Younghusband carry this year's specialist honours. The stance feels right, and its natural next step is transparency, calloing for both operational and embodied carbon figures published alongside the citations so that "significant carbon reductions" becomes a benchmark the profession can test itself against, rather than a phrase it takes on trust alone.

St Thomas More Columbarium by Simon Pendal Architects. Photography by Traianos Pakioufakis.

St Thomas More Columbarium by Simon Pendal Architects. Photography by Traianos Pakioufakis.

St Thomas More Columbarium by Simon Pendal Architects. Photography by Leo Showell.

St Thomas More Columbarium by Simon Pendal Architects. Photography by Leo Showell.

St Thomas More Columbarium by Simon Pendal Architects. Photography by Leo Showell.

Some of the year's most affecting work is also its smallest. Simon Pendal Architect's St Thomas More Columbarium (Nicholas Murcutt Award) and Atelier Marks Gaal's Magenta Outhouse reduce architecture to its essential elements, made with exceptional resourcefulness on slender budgets. They are a hommage to the art of editing and a useful corrective to any lingering assumption that ambition is a function of scale.

If there is a reservation to note, it is that optimism is a disposition, not a criterion, and a jury can only reward what is entered, laregly based on its intents and their skill of articulation. The communities most poorly served by the building industry rarely commission award submissions. What this year's winners offer, then, is not so much a portrait of Australian building at large but a set of proofs that trust, care, Country and modesty can be designed for, and that when they are, joy tends to naturally follow. The work now belongs to everyone else: to make the exceptional ordinary.