New Zealand’s TreeChurch: Architecture That Keeps Growing

From outside, the TreeChurch reads as a small chapel set within a garden. Step into a photograph of its interior and the building materials change: leaves filter the light, branches rise overhead and the roof is still growing.

Exterior and interior views of a chapel formed with living trees — The TreeChurch near Ōhaupō, New Zealand. These views show its planted architecture at an earlier stage of the garden’s history. Source.

Moving mature trees into an architectural plan

A 2016 account adds a useful part of Cox’s background: his tree-moving business, Treelocations, specialized in relocating established trees. Beginning with mature plants helps explain why the church could acquire a substantial outline within the roughly four-year period described in the feature. It was an exercise in choosing, moving and arranging living material, as well as waiting for growth.

His interest in church buildings developed through his travels. In the account of the project’s beginning, he cleared the chosen ground in April 2011 and constructed an iron framework before planting around it. The architectural outline and the eventual foliage therefore belong to different stages of the same process. Image credits in the 2016 gallery include Sally Tag and TreeChurch.

The early account also described Cox selecting trunks with different visual tones and trees with different foliage densities so that the interior would admit light. That design aim is more useful than promising sunlight at every hour: the canopy is living material whose appearance changes. The official TreeChurch history identifies cut-leaf alder for the roof and El Greco olives for the walls, alongside Camelia Black Tie, Acer Globosum and Thuja Pyramidalis in the planting palette.

A living structure near Ōhaupō

Barry Cox created the TreeChurch in New Zealand from his interest in church architecture and trees. Rather than using timber only after felling it, the project places living plants within an architectural arrangement.

The TreeChurch’s official history identifies cut-leaf alder with the roof canopy and El Greco olives with the walls, alongside other selected plants. The surrounding gardens include a labyrinth, a pond and varied planting.

Chris and Bev Gatenby took over stewardship in mid-2020. Naming that transition keeps the story current and recognizes that a living structure depends on continuing care after its original creation.

What makes it feel like a church?

Look at the relationship between the central aisle and the rows of seating. Then follow the upward lines of the supporting structure and trees. These familiar spatial cues help the place read as a chapel even though its surfaces are porous and leafy.

The contrast is especially clear in an interior view. A conventional roof separates inside from outside; here, filtered daylight makes the boundary feel softer. The plants are not simply decoration placed against a finished wall. They help define the room.

A building that cannot be finished once

Living materials change. Branches extend, foliage thickens and the shape of the space shifts with growth and maintenance. The interesting design question is therefore not just “How was it built?” but “How is its form kept legible over time?”

That makes gardening part of the architecture. A photograph captures one stage rather than a permanently fixed result. Differences between images may reflect season, growth or viewpoint, not contradictory accounts of the place.

Visit the current garden, not an old caption

The official TreeChurch site publishes current visiting arrangements and event information. Consult it when planning a trip, since a historic feature article cannot guarantee present-day hours or access.

For another structure shaped around a tree, explore the little library created from a tree stump. And for a landscape-scale story of patience, read about Jadav Payeng’s forest work. These projects have different purposes, but all make time and care visible in the result.