Heritage Impact Assessments: Why Junctions Matter
- Touring the Past

- Jun 13, 2020
- 3 min read
Updated: Oct 18
By a heritage consultant working across Sydney and Melbourne
'Always design a thing by considering it in its next larger context—a chair in a room, a room in a house, a house in an environment, an environment in a city plan.' Eleil Saarine (Finish-American architect)

In heritage conservation, everything turns on context. And nowhere is that more tangible than at the junction—the physical and philosophical seam between old and new. Whether in the dense laneways of Melbourne or the layered streetscapes of Sydney, the success of any heritage impact assessment often depends on how carefully this link is resolved. Junctions are where meaning, craftsmanship, ergonomics, and compliance all converge.
More than a Line on a Drawing
A junction is not just a detail to be 'worked out later'. Poorly considered interfaces between historic and new fabric can trigger aesthetic discord, construction headaches, and long-term maintenance issues. In heritage work, the junction is both a buffer and a bridge: it connects and separates, acknowledges difference while allowing continuity.
The treatment can vary widely. Some designers avoid direct contact altogether—introducing a physical break between structures. Others conceal or camouflage the join. Still others make it declarative, deliberately expressing the transition between historic layers. Each strategy communicates a distinct attitude toward the past.
How the Past Used to Join
Historically, most Australian additions—particularly domestic ones—were tacked on with minimal thought to articulation. Junctions were pragmatic rather than poetic: a shift in roof pitch, a change in brick bond, a patched gutter. Many of those solutions still work, provided they’re honest and technically sound. What matters is clarity of intent.
Three Factors to Weigh
When evaluating a proposed junction in a Heritage Impact Assessment, we consider three interrelated factors:
Extent of change to significant fabric.
Reversibility—the degree to which the new can be removed or separated in future (often through ‘soft’ joints or independent link structures).
Design response—whether the approach is respectful (quiet, recessive, compatible) or interpretive (contemporary yet referential), inside and out.
The Glass Link: Elegant or Overused?
The glazed connector—usually a slim glass slot—is now heritage shorthand for 'appropriate'. Consent authorities often applaud it for being polite, quiet, and non-intrusive. Yet this default can become formulaic. The problem with standardised 'heritage-approved' details is that they risk erasing the individuality of place. Each building has its own story; design policies should be guides, not gospel.
Even the glass link has its pitfalls. Renderings often depict it as transparent and weightless. Built reality is less forgiving: glare, reflection, and maintenance all undermine the illusion of invisibility. Materials are never neutral—they always say something.
The Quiet Power of the Shadow Line
Another strategy is the indentation or 'shadow gap'. This subtle recess, sometimes finished in matte metal or painted timber, allows the eye to glide over the junction, preserving the integrity of both elements. Done well, it creates calm legibility—an honest reading of old and new without theatrical contrast.
The Point Where Projects Turn
Every intersection between new work and heritage fabric carries significance. Junctions are the fulcrum of dialogue between past and present. They decide whether a project feels confident or clumsy, reverent or restless. In heritage design—from the sandstone terraces of Paddington to the industrial brickwork of Collingwood—the junction is where respect meets invention.





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