Well, colour me incredulous! Thus begins the banter with designer David Flack who opens the door to a staid Melbourne terrace sold some years earlier with the agent’s persuasion of ‘architect-renovated’ and pictures of all-white rooms about as enticing as tax time. The online proof of the preceding scheme — a clinical excision of the ornament, order and detail that dates the architecture circa 1870s — makes his studio’s reimagining of the row house all the more sizeable and stupefying.
“It certainly needed a good Flacking,” says the Melbourne designer whose suspicion of ‘wipe-it-clean’ rationalism makes him serially
