NV How would you introduce yourself to someone meeting you for the first time?

MB I’m an artist, architect and academic. My background is in architecture, but over time I’ve moved into a multidisciplinary practice. I first ventured into this, unofficially, in 2008, working on interior design and installation art. Since then, with some support and opportunity, I’ve evolved this into what you see today — a practice that intersects various creative fields. Some of the work I do is even transdisciplinary, where I collaborate with individuals outside of the typical creative disciplines. I’ve worked with sleep scientists, for example. This ongoing collaboration across fields has expanded in the last four or five years, and it’s been incredibly fun.

NV And what role does the university play in your work?

MB As an academic at Monash University, I find that the institution’s support for practice based learning encourages a multidisciplinary approach. It’s allowed me to explore various forms of creativity while balancing teaching and research. The stability from academia means I don’t have to chase commercial viability in the same way most architects or designers do. I can focus more on the “what ifs” and experimental aspects of my practice.

NV Do you see yourself as an orchestrator in your various projects?

MB Conductor is a good term. I do lead the projects, but it’s definitely a collaborative effort. The analogy fits because, like a conductor, I bring various players together to create something engaging and meaningful. I might initiate the ideas, but once the process begins, it becomes a journey that we all embark on together. Even though I lead, I always aim for a horizontal approach without rigid hierarchies, which makes the process vibrant and more creative.

NV Your email signature reads “Architecture & Interiors, Art Practice, Public Art Projects.” Are these disciplines ranked in terms of prominence in your life?

MB I don’t prioritise them at all — they’re all mixed together, like a salad bowl. That’s where this transdisciplinary model comes in, because projects often merge across creative disciplines. My signature reflects how different clients perceive me: some see me as an architect, others as an artist. Ultimately, it depends on who’s paying the bills, but my practice doesn’t silo these roles.

NV Which aspect of your work are you enjoying the most?

MB Right now, I’m really excited about moving image work. I’ve been in this space since a project I did for the 2016 Venice Architecture Biennale called Sarcophagus. Since then, I’ve been creating short films that blend performance art, installation and fieldwork with cinematography. Whenever I pitch for a grant or project, it’s always for moving image work. It’s a fascinating medium because it allows me to frame issues and ideas in a way that feels contained yet expansive.

NV It’s been sixteen years since you founded Studiobird. What has been the biggest change you’ve noticed over this time?

MB I’ve been very fortunate. Early on, I worked for architect Cassandra Fahey, who is incredibly creative and experimental. That experience shaped how I approach my practice today. Since 2008, I’ve built a diverse portfolio by initiating my own projects and working with talented collaborators. Over time, the scale and scope of my projects have grown, but it’s always been about taking things one step at a time, iteratively expanding across disciplines.

NV If you could go back, would you change anything?

MB The cliché answer is no, because everything happens for a reason. There were some cool projects that were cancelled, and maybe I’d have liked to see them through, but overall, I don’t regret any of my career decisions. I’m quite satisfied with how things have unfolded.

NV This issue explores the expanded notion of “set.” What comes to mind when you hear that term?

MB Coming from scenography, I immediately think of the theatrical black box and the idea of crafting immersive spaces. Last year, I began framing my work through a cinematic lens, applying this approach to projects like Where Wonders Dwell, a large scale acoustic ceiling in an educational facility that evokes marine biology and coral systems. It’s not traditional scenography but an expanded practice, where set design techniques build immersive, experiential environments beyond the theatre.

NV What’s your relationship with performance?

MB I trained as a dancer in my youth, taking ballet and contemporary classes. I even appeared on TV shows and did some child modelling, which exposed me to performance and storytelling. Early in my career, I designed a set for Phillip Adams at BalletLab, and since then, I’ve collaborated with him regularly. One of our recent projects involved wandering through the volcanic landscapes of Lanzarote, dressed as characters, reinterpreting the modernist urban fantasies of César Manrique.

NV How did you first discover Lanzarote and the work of Manrique?

MB I first discovered César Manrique’s work through Michel Houellebecq’s Lanzarote, which introduced me to a surreal world of modernist buildings set against volcanic landscapes. At the time, I didn’t realise this vision was grounded in reality and shaped by Manrique’s creative interventions on the island.

MB Manrique’s work blends art, architecture and nature, transforming Lanzarote into a living artwork. His designs integrate volcanic rock, lava tubes and natural forms, creating a harmonious dialogue between the environment and the built structures. What I love most is how the island evokes a scenographic wonder, with elements crafted to create a total narrative — there is no intermission in this theatre. Each intervention becomes part of a seamless, evolving experience that unfolds without pause, blurring the line between the real and the imagined.

MB Through the photographic project Lanzarote, created with Phillip Adams, I began to see the island not just as a tourist destination, but as a series of “nonplaces” — transient, in between spaces that defy traditional boundaries of time and space. Our journey mirrored Manrique’s philosophy, where each transition between the natural and the man made revealed new perspectives. The experience felt always in flux, much like the island’s shifting volcanic landscape, with each architectural intervention becoming a dynamic encounter that invites us into a continuous dialogue between nature and creativity.

NV What does collaboration mean to you, and what challenges come with it?

MB Collaboration is about two or more people coming together to develop ideas. A good example is again Where Wonders Dwell, where I worked with a marine biologist and astrophysicist to create a large installation using parametric design. It was a true collaboration, but, of course, defining boundaries and justifying the involvement of scientists in a design project wasn’t always easy. In the end, I was responsible, but the collaboration made the project nuanced.

NV You’ve also done public art projects like Simply Irresistible for the NGV Architecture Commission.

MB Public art is inherently interactive, which presents challenges around safety and security. For Simply Irresistible, I created a kinetic structure that visitors could engage with by lying underneath and watching it spin. Collaborating with Simona Castricum helped define this pavilion as an inclusive wonder space.

NV When it comes to immersive installations, some people feel unsure how to interact. What’s your take on participation in such works?

MB Participation depends on the individual’s personality and context. In public spaces, people are more likely to engage, while in galleries, they may hesitate unless explicitly invited. My goal is to create environments that evoke curiosity and joy, but I understand not everyone will engage. And that’s okay — some works can be polarising.

NV You’ve designed a few houses. Do you enjoy residential projects?

MB I’ve done about five houses, and I find them hard work. It’s a luxury to say this, but I don’t particularly enjoy residential work. Clients are often risk averse, and meeting their expectations can be challenging. I prefer to focus on other types of projects that feel more creatively fulfilling.

NV What are you currently working on?

MB I’m transforming an old courthouse into an artist residency with studio and exhibition space in regional Victoria. It’s a long term project that’s been delayed due to the pandemic, but it’s finally moving forward. It’s been rewarding to engage with the local community and see the project take shape.

NV How about your living space?

MB In 2016, I worked on my own apartment, Theodore Treehouse, which encapsulates all my interests. It’s a kaleidoscopic experience where every room is a different colour, blending art, interior design and architecture. I took risks in the design, creating a “house museum” that displays all my personal collections.

NV How organised are you in your everyday life?

MB Super organised! My students are always impressed by the file structure on my computer. It’s just the way I’ve been since childhood — everything has its place, and I don’t like mess.

NV How do you approach teaching at Monash University?

MB I lead the Master of Architecture program and usually teach a studio class each semester. I focus on creating a framework that allows students to develop their ideas. My teaching style is open and flexible, encouraging students to explore their perspectives. I believe in discussing ethics before jumping into design briefs.

NV Has teaching shaped your approach to design?

MB Absolutely. My students constantly inspire me with their ideas. I don’t operate with hierarchies, and I’m open to learning from them, which makes the experience richer for both of us.

NV What advice would you give to an emerging practitioner?

MB Take risks. Instead of building a generic portfolio to please a future boss, focus on projects that explore societal issues and challenge existing norms.

NV After a busy day at the studio, how do you unwind?

MB I’m currently training for a triathlon; I destress by working out. I don’t really switch off until I’m exhausted.

NV Last question — your Instagram handle is @spherical_oddity. How did you come up with that?

MB I’m fascinated by spheres, especially the odd ones that create unexpected moments. The word “oddity” captures that idea of the unusual and unanticipated — like a UFO sighting. Plus, it’s a nod to David Bowie’s “Space Oddity”. I’m a huge fan!