It's heavy, it can be cold and sometimes looks awful, and there are questions over its eco-friendliness: but some architects are doing lovely things with concrete, writes Emma Cullinan

CONTRACTORS are getting better at working with concrete and so are architects, says David Bennett, concrete consultant, who has worked with many Irish architects over the years.

He cites Scott Tallon Walker's monument at Oulart Hill, Wexford, as a good example of how an architect and contractor can work together to create something special. "It shows the synergy that is possible. You have got to get the contractor into the habit of excellence and for them to do it as routine," says Bennett whose love and knowledge of concrete was nurtured when creating irrigation projects as a civil engineer in pre-war Iraq - "which was a beautiful country".

And it does take that collaboration, he says, especially with in-situ concrete (that made on site, as opposed to pre-cast which is factory made).

"Architects must get close to the coal face and read why things happen. If you use this material as a designer you need to know how it works. You can't just specify it on computer. If you get close and take an interest, the results can be terrific.

"Those who are very tactile become exceptionally good at it, it gets into their psyche and that has happened with John Tuomey. He sees things and knows how to form them."

Perhaps it is no wonder, then, that O'Donnell and Tuomey won this years' Irish Concrete award for their Knockbo house in Killiney. The judges from the Irish Concrete Society said: "The building's three-dimensional form, surface finishes and technical detail display a strong appreciation of the material's qualities. Excellence in the scheme's design and construction is testament to the collaboration of the client, designers and contractors."

Bennett recently worked with O'Donnell and Tuomey and their contractors on a corrugated façade for a Dublin Docklands community centre. He was also involved in a house in D4 by architects Fitzgerald Kavanagh and Partners, "where the internal concrete was worked on quite closely and nicely done".

He is now working with architects Clancy Moore on a house on the west coast which involves a concrete colonnade and a black concrete swimming pool.

The practice has embraced Bennett's way of working with architects and contractors that avoids the blame culture often present on building sites. "We don't believe in taking the antagonistic approach that architects are often forced into to get high-end spec in Ireland. Often the architect is trying their hardest and the contractor is trying their hardest but things go wrong. With every job comes the opportunity to educate yourselves further," says Andrew Clancy who is also working with a timber expert on a timber house he is creating. "You can't come to a job feeling that you know it all," he says, because this can lead to conflict.

"You do learn by doing it," says Tuomey who makes full size mock-ups and samples, working with the contractor.

As with many jobs he advises on, Bennett ran a workshop with the architect and builder, to which other practices that Clancy shares an office space with, including Steve Larkin Architects, were invited. Part of that office is now adorned with examples of various concrete mixes.

The result of the shared education is a mutual respect, knowledge and understanding of what everyone on site is trying to achieve with the concrete.

Bennett likes to point out that options are endless because in essence concrete is liquid stone and Brendan Lynch for the Irish Concrete Society says that people are exploring boundaries with the material, both for its sculptural qualities and also for its thermal storing ability. This is something that Donal Hickey has noticed in the concrete-rich house he designed with his wife, interior designer Fionuala Lennon, in north Dublin (featured in the current edition of House magazine). The temperature is very stable he says.

Hickey falls into one of two categories of concrete designer identified by Bennett. "One will make it with board markings, either horizontal or vertical, and the others, like Peter Zumpthor and Tadao Ando, will use film-faced plywood and arrange all of the bolts."

Hickey preferred the bolt positioning to be more random - "When everything lines up it looks too mechanical" - and he was not worried about water marks and surface blow holes (holes in the concrete formed by air). Such 'defects' become a map of the build and how you perceive the quirks helps to decide whether you can live with them or not.

In the office Hickey shares with his business partner Gavin Buggy (as Arcus Architects) there is a watermark that is a reminder a four-hour delay by a delivery lorry which prevented everything being poured at once. "I don't mind it," says Hickey, "I see it as being like one layer of watercolour over another layer." The largest blow holes are in the utility room. "It was due to the concrete mix. We wondered whether we should knock it down or wait a while to see how we felt about it. In the end we thought it would be too traumatic to knock down something we were building, although we would have redone it for a client."

The family have grown to quite like it - and it does make the concrete look less foreboding. Hickey compares it to the properties of travertine marble but it is the couple's daughters who have put it to the best use: storing and hiding sweets in the holes.

The quirks are nothing in the overall scheme, which is beautiful. The office and house is in Nun's Lane, quite aptly because the concrete has a monumental, sanctuary-like quality, with its calm presence and light beaming in through skylights.

This home and office shows just how well concrete works with other materials. The palette was kept neat, combining concrete with black stone or terrazzo, and timber. The latter lines the lower parts of the walls and the complete diningroom giving warmth at an intimate level, while the higher concrete gives an impressive sense of scale. In the centre of the living space is a floor-to-ceiling black Kilkenny marble fireplace that is both modern - in its shape - and historic - in its ingrained white fossils. The vast black terrazzo bath in its own eyrie on the first floor is a piece of heaven in north Dublin

Despite its sculptural qualities, the concrete in this building is very orthogonal, "the only thing that bends is the light", says Hickey. "We always knew the light would be interesting and powerful but we never knew it would be so dramatic."

To get beautiful concrete finishes, says Bennett, you need good formwork because every flaw on this will show on the concrete surface. "Every imperfection is revealed in the concrete. If the formwork is split it is useless so instead of banging nails in the formwork, screw fix it or back fix it so the face is kept beautiful."

He recalls working on a site where the contractors were using nails. "I was horrified that they were damaging the surface but they said that no one had ever told them anything different. There is pride there and that's why bringing people together to explain the situation will result in a better finish. These guys said, 'thanks' and did it again."

Bennett say that another basic mistake with traditional formwork is where the assembly moves under the pressure of the concrete which then leaks out and gets chipped. Formwork must also be kept clear of hands marks, Pollyfilla and metal shoes scuffing the surface, all which will show on the concrete, and it needs to be kept out of the rain.

"When it gets rained on it swells. It needs to be hung vertically and the kept dry."

He points out that formwork is expensive and if you protect it you can reduce its environmental impact by recycling it. This helps concrete's cause at a time when its eco-friendliness is being questioned and, interestingly, the Irish Concrete Federation has produced a leaflet called The A-rated Energy-Efficient Concrete Home.

Hickey says that his contractor, L and S Developments did a beautiful job in line with what was specified, and he would love to do another project with concrete. "Concrete has awful connotations," he says, something that is both to do with the grim way it has been used but also people leaping on the English meaning of brutal in brutalism rather than the French beton brut (meaning raw or rough-finished concrete).

For Hickey it is that liquid stone quality that Bennett talks about which makes rewarding (and sometimes difficult), "anything you can do with liquid you can make solid with concrete". ´