If we were content to assess the merits of Federation Square in this way, we would have to assign it a miserable grade. But this would be an obvious mistake, because the square is inarguably Melbourne’s civic heart. Armed with two decades of memory and experience, even Federation Square’s staunchest critics would struggle to contest its value. It has become the natural home of protests, festivals and other gatherings. It is now an internationally recognised emblem of the city’s proud culture of design, arts and events. While its craggy, Postmodern aesthetic is not universally popular, the people it serves have in the intervening years found they are willing to fight for it. Apple experienced this firsthand, when its plans for a luminescent shopfront on the square were spectacularly rebuffed by an aggrieved public.
This illustrates what is perhaps the paramount point: squares are not stagnant, and they do not arrive as gleaming answers to complex questions. They grow, adapt and change just as the civic, social and economic forces of their city and community do. In the grander context of Perth’s urban fabric, Yagan Square is a newly-arrived debutante. It is the signature project of the CBD’s urban renewal program and at this point it is a challenge to what a contemporary public space means for the city of Perth. It is unusual, intriguing, and uniquely of its place. It was designed and built for Perth. And at its core the design acts to meaningfully address Indigenous reconciliation, resulting in a place of recognition for the Whadjuk story, and the creation of a meeting place for people from all walks of life.
To insist that Yagan Square is in some way a failure at this early moment potentially risks depriving the city of a square that has value in ways we cannot yet see.