Katy Svalbe
Landscape architect
Landscape architect Katy Svalbe. Photo: Tim Jones
Interview by Peter Salhani | Photography by Tim Jones, Nicholas Watt, Natalie Hulfulvay
After a peripatetic life, landscape architect Katy Svalbe has planted roots in Sydney, where her collaborative practice specialises in green spaces with soul. Always scanning the horizon, and tapping into her dreams, Katy talks about risk and reward, a passion for permaculture, and moving towards a life of ‘functional, beautiful abundance.’
What drew you to LANDSCAPE ARCHITECTURE?
I always had the foundations for a love of landscape. I grew up on Cremorne Point in Sydney, playing around the harbour foreshore, then in my late teens, combing the sand dunes of Perth. When I came to choose a degree I’d never heard of landscape architecture. I was into biology, science and art, and this seemed to combine them all, so it was perfect for me. And it was a really exciting time to be doing it. I was in the second intake at the University of Western Australia and the energy was amazing. You could study from the schools of landscape, architecture and fine arts. It was a wonderful studio culture. I loved it.
Landscape architect Katy Svalbe at the Lord Dudley Hotel in Sydney’s East; Amber Road turned a dark under-utilised downstairs space into a lush conservatory-style bistro & bar. Photo: Nicholas Watt
Your first big break?
My first job out of university was working with Hassell in Sydney. That was super exciting because they were doing big projects for the 2000 Sydney Olympics. I got to work on Millennium Parklands, with some legends. As a junior designer my role was about managing large swathes of information and documentation.
What did that give you?
It was about seeing all the pieces come together; understanding how such a big vision can is realised. That gradually gave me windows into design work. It’s also where I met Kate Luckcraft, who was leaving Hassell to start Aspect Studios* with Sacha Coles and Julian Raxworthy. I soon joined them as a founding staff member in Sydney.
*A major Australian landscape / urban design practice.
Redfern Oasis by Katy Svalbe for Amber Road. Photo: Nicholas Watt
your biggest risk and did it pay off?
I’m a fairly risk-averse person, but I took a massive (personal) risk moving to Spain (in 2005) for love. That brought amazing learnings in language and culture, and ultimately in self reliance. A professional risk was then moving back to Sydney (in 2011) and starting Amber Road* with my sister, Yas. Both those risks led to where I am today, so I would definitely say they paid off. The big risk this year has been starting my own practice, Svalbe & Co.
*An award-winning interiors/landscape practice founded in 2013 by Katy Svalbe and her sister, interior designer Yasmine Ghoniem. Amber Road closed in 2020, though collaborations continue between Svalbe & Co and YSG Studio.
Redfern Oasis by Katy Svalbe for Amber Road. Photo: Nicholas Watt
A talented family?
I owe a lot to my parents for who I am – my love of languages, music, art and design, my thirst for culture and yearning for horizons, and a ferocious work ethic (which has intensified now I’m the boss).
Bondi Pacific balcony garden by Katy Svalbe for Amber Road. Photo: Katy Svalbe
What were they like?
Mum is of Scottish, German, Irish stock. She grew up in Cronulla. Her love of other cultures and languages (she mastered French and later in life, Arabic) is in me too. Dad is a second generation Australian. His family had fled Riga in Latvia the year he was born. After years in refugee camps in Germany, they arrived in Melbourne in 1949 and later moved to Adelaide. Dad grew up in a tight-knit Latvian community, but he never returned to Riga until we met there in 2003. Together we unravelled stories of his/our past – of family’s farms, of his father who studied horticulture and his artistic aunt. A life so far removed from our shared story in Australia.
“Learning that it’s ok to let go.”
Your toughest lesson?
Spain. My marriage there didn’t work out. Some things you just can’t fix no matter hard you try. When it’s detrimental to everyone involved, you just have to let it go. The learning is that it’s ok to let go. It’s also recognising your gut instinct and deciding to trust it.
Paseo Romantico Oporto, Portugal. Photo: Katy Svalbe
landscape Lessons from Europe?
The thing about Europe is the scale and how differently people use the public domain. Everyone uses the street, young, old. There’s a real sense of life in public and it’s lovely to observe and think about how to make those spaces. The large formal parks and the lovely detailing of small gardens, which are all so much part of the culture.
Urban plaza in Rotterdam. Photo: Katy Svalbe
Favourite places there?
Rotterdam – it’s not pretty like Amsterdam, it’s a working port city with great moments of urban beauty. Paris, of course: the scale of its boulevardes. Granada in Spain, with its cherry-on-top Alhambra; it’s my paradise on earth!
Buga Park in Potsdam, Germany. Photo: Katy Svalbe
“Practice also teaches you your strengths.”
The Alhambra in Granada, Spain. Photo: Katy Svalbe
other influences?
There are some incredibly strong Australian women in landscape like Sue Barnsley and Jane Irwin (here) and others internationally who really inspire me. Practice also teaches you your strengths, and what you like doing. But it takes time to get there.
An arbor/pavilion in the Giardini della Biennale, Venice. Photo: Katy Svalbe
Tree time, not human time?
Landscape design is about a long-term relationship with natural systems. You have to be visionary. So much of what we do is about watching things grow and learning from that; it’s a very long feedback loop. That’s the magic. For me that makes the most terrifying part of a project creating the planting palette, because it’s the biggest responsibility. You don’t want plants dying because you’ve put them in the wrong conditions. So the planting scheme takes me the longest time; it’s what I most love to collaborate on.
A bayside Sydney harbour walk. Photo: Simon Hanna
“You have to be visionary. So much of what we do is about watching things grow and learning from that.”
Goals in practice?
I work mostly at the residential scale, which is perfect for now. Always in my heart though, is permaculture, and living more sustainably. I did some permaculture projects in Spain, and was part of an Earthship build [with Terraeden Biotecture] in Queensland in 2012. It was a great experience of making things in community, being hands-on and learning. I plan to do more of that.
The Dry Sand Garden at Ginkaku-ji Temple (Silver Pavilion), Kyoto.
Is practice more difficult for women?
As a woman in practice, it’s about how you set it up to work for you, especially if you want to have a family. I think a lot of women – in any profession – give it up at some point for family. That leaves a massive gap in their careers, and can lead to a dreadful spiral of depression. That’s why I’m keeping the practice lean for now. And I have a strong network of local collaborators; mostly women in similar positions to me, juggling work and motherhood. I can call them any time and say ‘I’ve had a thought; come round and let’s scribble’. A lot of ideas take shape around the kitchen table.
Bridge Garden in Sydney by Svalbe & Co. Photo: Natalie Hulfulvay
“The joy of small spaces is how clever you’ve got to be. ”
The game-changer moment?
When Yas and I were starting Amber Road, we took a week out to workshop our goals and direction. Both for the business and ourselves. We used a book by Jürgen Salenbacher, Creative Personal Branding as a guide. One of the exercises was to write your own obituary – how you’d like to be remembered. Sounds grim, but it was really clarifying. A lot of things gelled about what’s important to me in life and practice, and what I’d like to leave as a legacy.
Visiting the outback mining town of Broken Hill, NSW.
what legacy do you want to leave?
I’d like to contribute to bigger picture thinking and change in terms of communal, compact living, and living more sustainably in general. Even if it’s just by example. And I want to explore in larger scale how to make food production systems more sustainable.
Mixed media artpiece by Katy Svalbe, a wedding present for a friend in Australia.
what Big picture changes are needed?
Forging partnerships with First Nations people is the only meaningful way forward from here. I recently read Bruce Pascoe’s book, Dark Emu. We knew all this didn’t we: the sheer sophistication of Indigenous systems for farming and fishing. Not just ingenious, but beautiful too. I’ve also discovered the IndigiGrow nursery in Botany [in Sydney’s south]. So exciting to talk to people who have some of that ancient knowledge and wisdom, and to source truly local plant stock.
Redfern Oasis by Katy Svalbe for Amber Road. Photo: Nicholas Watt
“Traces of our input will dissolve over time.”
the joys of small scale?
In landscape, the joy of small spaces is how clever you’ve got to be with layering, and how you introduce green. Because you don’t have space for big trees. A small project of mine, Redfern Oasis, is very popular with publishers at the moment. It’s not manicured; it’s probably the wildest garden I’ve done. It combines edibles with ornamentals and natives, so it’s intensely biodiverse. What I love most is that it looks as if it’s always been there. The design gave a ‘frame’ for the clients to play in and add to. Traces of our input will dissolve over time, leaving the plants and the client’s touch to take centre stage.
Abundance at Charlie’s Community Garden in Redfern, where Katy Svalbe lived for a year.
Where do you live and why?
I live in Marrickville, in Sydney’s Inner West, with my partner Simon and daughter Indy, in a little Art Deco duplex. It’s small, but well designed. It has soul and a sunroom where we have a study. That’s been perfect during COVID as Simon and I have been working from home. I’d like to get back to a studio, but for now, I’m maximising the time with my workload and [2 year-old] Indy.
At home among the Angophoras. Photo: Simon Hanna
the next big move?
Simon [a graphic designer] is now studying regenerative agriculture. Our dream is to eventually combine his knowledge and mine and have a property somewhere regionally where we practise permaculture, healthy food production and land care. Still combining thoughtful design. I think Joel Salatin (permaculture guru) sums up perfectly where my mind is set: ‘Moving towards a life of functional, beautiful abundance.’
