In Practice: Roberts Gray Architects

In Practice—a series of conversations with the makers shaping what comes next for New Zealand design. Few countries this small produce work this good, and that's worth shouting about. Each practice or individual has been chosen for the calibre and originality of their thinking, not necessarily their scale or recognition. The conversations trace how they got here, what's shaped their practice, and where they're headed next. 

Next in our series: three architects who believe the best work comes from challenging each other. Nick, Jimmy and Elspeth of Roberts Gray Architects trust each other's ideas implicitly, while leaving room for disagreement, unexpected turns, and the chance that a project becomes something none of them initially imagined. 

Three architects who believe the best work comes from challenging each other. 

Nick Roberts, Elspeth Gray and Jimmy Gray of Roberts Gray Architects trust each other's ideas implicitly, while leaving room for disagreement, unexpected turns, and the possibility that a project becomes something none of them initially imagined. 

It's a curious dynamic. Two of the three are married to each other, with a third partner completing the group. We were intrigued by how that plays out in a practice where decisions are constant, and often made in front of clients. 

We met them at Double Courtyard, their recent project at Te Arai and a Residential Finalist in the 2026 Best Awards, to talk about how trust, disagreement and open conversation can lead to stronger work. 

The three met at university, before going their separate ways professionally, working overseas and across different practices. Years later, they found themselves drawn back together by the idea that their different experiences and shared history could create something greater than any of them could produce alone. 

They began by testing what it meant to design together, quickly discovering that challenging one another was not an obstacle but an essential part of the process. 

"The moments when we challenged each other — those challenges actually started to result in buildings that were really interesting, and we were listening to each other." 

For Elspeth, that openness remains central to how the practice operates. Ideas are continually tested amongst the three before they reach a client, with disagreement treated as part of the process rather than something to avoid. 

"We sometimes agree, other times disagree, with each other's opinions, and in our office it's very much an open opportunity for everyone to join in with their thoughts." 

The three bring different interests and skills to a project, but those distinctions have become increasingly blurred. Working at a small, boutique scale means they're across every aspect, sharing knowledge as much as they reflect their differences. 

Nick describes the process as one where different layers of thinking begin to connect: one person might develop the philosophical position of a project, another the construction detail that expresses it, while another considers how the materials are treated. 

"Suddenly, from an initial statement or belief about what the project should be, you get this incredible level of resolution very quickly." 

That thinking extends beyond the building itself. Roberts Gray don't draw a hard line between architecture, interiors and landscape. They are interested in designing the site as a whole, considering everything from the building's relationship to its surroundings through to curtains, fabrics, tonality and texture. 

"The way we describe it is simply being completely connected, from part to whole." 

At Double Courtyard, that approach began with a single word in the client's brief: barefoot. 

The couple, who live in Dubai but have roots in New Zealand and Scotland, wanted their home at Te Arai to reconnect them with a way of living that was largely absent from their everyday lives. 

"The idea of being barefoot and connected to an environment immediately spoke to us — that this would be their New Zealand home, and that was a quality we needed to achieve." 

It's this deeper reading of a brief that sits at the heart of their work. For Roberts Gray, architecture isn't simply about solving the practical requirements of a project. It's about understanding what a building needs to mean, both to its occupants and to the place it inhabits. 

That philosophy extends to how they think about the future of architecture in New Zealand. Nick is wary of reducing the challenges facing our cities and landscapes to questions of volume and scale. Instead, he believes buildings should have a greater consciousness of their place, their people and their life beyond the present moment. 

Jimmy describes this as emotional durability — the idea that sustainability isn't only about carbon or materials, but whether a building is loved enough to be kept, cared for and passed on. 

"We don't talk about emotional durability, and the longevity of buildings — a house that somebody is really proud of, and will therefore pass through the generations." 

For a young country, they see a responsibility to build with a much longer horizon in mind. 

"It's really important that we see our buildings as cultural artifacts as much as financial products." 

Perhaps the most revealing part of the conversation comes when they describe what happens once the core idea of a project has been found. 

For Nick, it is a moment of complete trust. The three continue searching for something unexpected in response to the brief, but once they find it, the project begins to resolve itself. 

"Once that's found, it's really about designing in a way that feels inevitable — all the details make sense, all the fine-grained aspects of the design start to fall into place, and we start speaking the same language." 

Jimmy describes it as the point where the building almost begins to make itself. Once the core idea, plan and key details are clear, everything starts to fall into place. 

"You almost feel like a cog in a machine, and it all falls into place and wants to be what it wants to be." 

For a practice built around three voices, there is something fitting about that final sense of inevitability. The work begins with discussion, disagreement and competing perspectives, but the aim is always to arrive somewhere that feels coherent. 

Their advice to architecture students returns to that same spirit of openness. There is always more to learn, and questioning your own position is part of the process. 

“A big part about becoming an architect is understanding the position from which you see the world. But to reach your potential, you need to understand the position others see it from... That reciprocal relationship between your own position and experiences, and an openness and understanding of others is absolutely essential.” 

Perhaps that's the real strength of Roberts Gray: not that three architects always see things the same way, but that they trust each other enough to challenge what they see. 

The best work, they suggest, might not come from having all the answers at the beginning, but from being open enough to discover something better together.