Obituary: Sir Michael Fowler, the man who transformed Wellington

Sir Michael Fowler: architect, politician; b December 19, 1929; d, July 12, 2022.

A charming visionary who transformed Wellington, or a vandal who destroyed a significant chunk of Wellington’s heritage architecture with a cavalier approach to financial accountability.

Sir Michael Fowler, the mayor of Wellington from 1974 to 1983, has died aged 92, with Covid-19. Nearly 50 years after he first took office, it is hard to accurately define his legacy.

His name is forever linked with the city, thanks to the Michael Fowler Centre, and a strong case can be made that he was the most influential mayor the capital has had over the past 100 years.

An equally strong case could be made that he destroyed a large chunk of Wellington’s heritage and displayed a brazen disregard for council processes and financial accountability.

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A vibrant character with a ready smile, he became a Wellington city councillor in 1968, serving under another high-profile mayor, Labour stalwart Sir Frank Kitts, before becoming mayor in 1974.

His greatest achievement was the Michael Fowler Centre, opened in September 1983, at a cost of $17 million. Although the building is now one of Wellington’s best-known, in its early days it was considered highly controversial. The daily papers eventually declared the project a success, but there was initially deep scepticism.

Those papers received numerous letters arguing it was unnecessary and a massive waste of money.

Fowler came up with a unique strategy to try to avoid having ratepayers pay for it. Exploiting the capital’s links to the Duke of Wellington, he embarked on Operation Waterloo.

He and his supporters flew all over the world, begging for cash, thanks to six round-the-world airfares courtesy of Air New Zealand. Their targets included United States billionaire Nelson Rockefeller and Saudi arms dealer Adnan Khashoggi, but The Dominion would conclude his fundraising was a “flop” and that he raised only a little over $150,000.

On his return, he resorted to selling raffle tickets in his lunch break.

The 1977 election focused public attention on the centre and the increasingly controversial mayor, who had increased rates by 29.7% in 1975. The Evening Post ran a full-page advertisement calling on Wellingtonians to reject Fowler: “It’s time to drop the curtain on FOWLER & HIS FARCE.”

By today’s standards, the council’s accounting processes were amateurish and open to manipulation.

The Audit Office questioned the use of council funds for Operation Waterloo. Prime minister Robert Muldoon became involved and introduced new regulations aimed at making councils more accountable.

Fowler won the election but, from his point of view, things only got worse as it became clear he had raised only a fraction of the sum he had publicly claimed.

More questions were raised after a group representing local ratepayers received enough votes to force a poll, only for council officials to refuse to accept the validity of many of the signatures.

With the cost of the centre increasing by the day, Fowler stepped up his raffles but would eventually concede the raffle was “an absolute disaster” and had failed to raise anything like the sum he had hoped.

In December 1979, The Evening Post described the centre as an albatross around Fowler’s neck. Fowler argued the city needed a new cultural centre to lift it out of the doldrums, caused by years of inaction by Kitts.

Given new powers, the Audit Office inevitably found problems with the council’s financial reporting.

Undeterred, Fowler, who was knighted in 1981, pushed on with his plans and construction began in 1982 with a planned opening date of September 1983. The project had always had a touch of Monty Python (some would say Mickey Mouse) about it and that theme continued for the opening.

During his world tour, Fowler had managed to talk the eighth Duke of Wellington into opening his dream. When it became clear how dodgy the project had been, the duke pulled out, despite Danish platemakers having already made 500 commemorative plates saying “Wellington Hall, New Zealand, opened by his Grace the Duke of Wellington”.

The year before it opened, councillors generously agreed to name it the Michael Fowler Centre.

Determined to get a big name to open it, Fowler and his loyal supporters drew up a hit list featuring Orson Welles, Mother Teresa, Jane Fonda and Neil Armstrong. With time running out, Fowler signed up former British prime minister Edward Heath, who received $10,000 and first-class airfares.

Tickets to see Heath proved virtually impossible to give away. The centre was eventually opened by the pop bands Hues Corporation​ and the Seekers, at that time considered lightweights.

Arts commentator Simon Morris​ summed up the opening fiasco in a letter to The Dominion, arguing that, rather than getting “nobodies”, Fowler should have used the best local talent available. Comedian Fred Dagg, he suggested, would have been a good fit.

Surprisingly, given its long-running hostility to the centre, the Evening Post took a conciliatory tone with a large supplement celebrating the opening.

Its editorial compared Fowler with the city’s founder Edward Gibbon Wakefield – noting that both men had vision, and reluctantly praised Fowler.

“[Fowler] isn’t an arrogant person but, when elected, he said the city needed this building and he was going to build it.

“The petitioners, the letter-writers and the nitpickers had a ball, but Sir Michael raised the money and had the centre built.

“He has shown that the solitary spirit is a powerful force. In a country where egalitarianism has meant the different are cut down, he has remained colourful, outspoken and at times infuriating.”

In Wellington: Biography of a City, historian Redmer Yska​ summed up the cost.

“A week before the opening, additional variations totalling $412,075 were slipped through a council meeting. Of the final bill of $17 million, Operation Waterloo had raised just $3m, $5.5m had been raised by government loan, and $8.5m had come from the municipality’s Leasehold Property Account. Wellington had paid heavily for Fowler’s dream.”

It was quickly given a range of nicknames, including the rather unkind Fowler’s Folly. But despite its unconventional history, the Michael Fowler Centre quickly became a Wellington landmark.

The centre was not the only controversy from his period as mayor. In the 1960s, it had become clear Wellington had a significant problem with earthquake-prone buildings, especially on Lambton Quay. Changes to legislation meant the council was able to force the owners of many of Wellington’s grandest historical buildings to either upgrade or demolish.

With encouragement from Fowler, many chose to demolish. Again Yska provides the best account of a period he describes as “Hurricane Michael”.

Fowler created a “development frenzy”, encouraging owners to demolish, rather than strengthen, their buildings, he says. Many of the city’s finest old hotels came down, but it was on Lambton Quay that the policy had its biggest impact.

“During Fowler’s term, half of the 187 at-risk buildings along the city’s Golden Mile were bowled, including ornate Victorian ‘wedding cake’ structures on the western side of Lambton Quay,” Yska writes.

Former Wellington mayor Dame Kerry Prendergast​ chooses her words carefully when talking about the trail of destruction created by Fowler.

She prefers to talk “positively” about her predecessor, noting that rules and attitudes around heritage protection were very different and that people did not value it in the way they do now.

“What happened is that a lot of Wellington’s old buildings were demolished, but at the time that was the accepted thing to do.”

The impact was that Wellington was littered with empty spaces where buildings were not replaced.

It was left to a subsequent mayor, James Belich​, to change the rules, to make it harder for developers to demolish buildings without having plans for the site, she says.

In a 2009 interview with Stuff, Fowler denied using the threat of earthquakes to get rid of old buildings.

“The buildings were dangerous and owners were given the opportunity to have them strengthened. But it’s an expensive exercise, so a lot were pulled down. In the end, I think their replacements enhanced the city.”

Sir Edward Michael Coulson​ Fowler was born in Marton in 1929. Although he would go on to become a proud Wellingtonian, he was educated at Christ’s College in Christchurch and studied architecture at Auckland University.

He worked initially in London before settling in Wellington in 1957, establishing himself as a successful architect.

Elected to the Wellington council in 1968, he served under Kitts. After standing unsuccessfully for the National Party in the Hutt electorate, Fowler turned his attention to the Wellington mayoralty.

He represented everything that Kitts did not. He was flamboyant, youthful, had a flair for self-promotion and also had a vision to create a modern city.

He attacked the rather dour Kitts, calling him a “tea party mayor”, and handed out 40,000 images of the cable car with his name emblazoned prominently.

Once elected, he set about raising his profile further, appearing on local radio and always ready with a quick quip to gain media attention.

A highly social mayor, he was known to enjoy a gin, sometimes first thing in the morning. Prendergast says her husband, property developer Rex Nicholls​, was often summoned to Fowler’s office.

“He [Fowler] would say you have to have a gin and it would be a big gin and, within a short space, he would offer you another.”

After the mayoralty, he became a noted artist, continued working as an architect and always took an interest in Wellington. In recent years, he had been living in Sprott Village care home in Karori.

Yska, who extensively interviewed him, says he was one of the most interesting people he had met. “He charmed me, he definitely had a roguish charm.”

A modernist in his approach to thinking and architecture, he transformed Wellington for the better, Yska believes.

That was best illustrated with his approach to the Michael Fowler Centre. It is not clear if the council ever actually voted for it, but Yska says that, once Fowler decided he wanted it, it did not matter what the councillors thought. “He just rode roughshod over the council.”

As well as his personable character, Yska says Fowler had another highly successful way of communicating his ideas. A talented artist, he was able to illustrate his vision for the city with drawings.

Rosemary Bradford (née Young), who was 24 when she was elected to the council in 1974, recalls Fowler as a charismatic figure who got things done by the sheer force of his personality.

Asked whether she viewed Fowler as a competent leader or one who had no respect for processes and financial accountability, she replies: “I would say both, and that is why he was so successful. The way he went about things would never be acceptable today.”

His predecessor led a city that was “boring and dull” and Fowler “created a sense of excitement” that resulted in a much-needed change of direction, Bradford says.

“He had a great sense of style and really lifted the tone of the city. He saw the city’s potential and was driven by a desire to bring the city to life … He had a vision to lift ‘Soviet’ Wellington from the drab Frank Kitts days of civil servants in cardigans and walk shorts to a city with energy and culture.”

Council meetings were always interesting under Fowler, especially after he had a few gins, she says.

“The tone of the meetings always changed quite dramatically after the supper break. Michael would sometimes get quite acerbic.”

Michael Fowler married Barbara Hall in June 1953 and they had three children, Antony​, Mark and Anna. Barbara died in 2009.

Mark Fowler remembers his father as a colourful character who was an engaged parent and a mayor who liked to get things done.

“Dad would make up wonderful and funny bedtime stories about travelling adventurers and heroes with ridiculously long names and magical talents. He’d sit there in our darkened room at the end of the bed, and waving a lit cigarette around to highlight the dramatic points in the story.“

One of his favourite memories of his father before he became mayor was being with him when he sketched Wellington scenes.

Both parents were “very liberal” and encouraged their children to think for themselves. “Family dinner conversations were broad – business, politics, society, philosophy, religion, art … and everyone was expected to have a say.”

Everything changed for the family with Fowler’s unexpected victory as mayor.

“When he won, it hit the family like a bomb. At the time my sister Anna was 14, I was 17, and brother Antony was 20. Mum had always been a very private person. Suddenly we were all thrust onto the front page (literally), alongside Dad. The win was definitely not heralded as a family celebration.”

The strength of his commitment to his family was illustrated when he later made what must have been a hard decision.

“As Dad approached the end of his third term as mayor, we were sitting around the family dining table. He asked us whether he should stand for a fourth term. It was clear he was keen. A family vote was called. It was a resounding no vote. He didn’t stand.”

Mark holds no illusions about his father’s approach. Looking back, he says Wellington was dull and boring when Fowler strode into the mayoral chamber.

“It felt like a place you passed through, lacking attraction and purpose. There is no doubt Dad really shook things up.”

Not everyone, he acknowledges, agreed with his father’s often unorthodox approach.

“He was polarising. He was single-minded in his approach. He pushed the boundaries and norms too hard for many. He attracted many critics, and many supporters.”

Mark, however, remains immensely proud of what his father achieved.

“Today Wellington is a great little world-class city, populated by citizens with passion and pride in its culture and amenities. I am proud of the contribution Dad made to this city-shift from apathy to vitality. It was significant.”

Sources: Wellington City Council, Mark Fowler, Rosemary Bradford, Dame Kerry Prendergast, Redmer Yska, Daryl Cockburn, Roger Walker, Stuff Archives and Wellington: Biography of a City, by Redmer Yska.