Wellington’s Town Hall was meant to be a shining example of heritage reborn—a grand old dame fixed up for a modest $45 million, ready to hum with music and civic pride again. That was the plan back in 2014. Fast forward to March 14, 2025, and it’s a different story: a $370 million beast, five years late, and sporting a new facade dubbed “the bird cage” by Councillor Nicola Young of Mt Victoria. Anna Calver, the council’s spin maestro, is out there claiming it’s somehow nine months early—five years late. What do we think of this fancy new look? It’s a shiny distraction from a project that’s spiralled into a financial and logistical shambles. Here’s how it went so wrong, and why the “bird cage” feels more like a cage for ratepayers’ wallets.
The Dream That Started Small
A Sensible $45 Million Fix
Back in 2014, Wellington City Council (WCC) had a straightforward pitch: strengthen the Town Hall, a 1904 heritage gem, for $45 million. It’d been shut since 2013 after the Kaikoura quake showed it was a wobbly risk—32% of the new building standard (NBS). The plan was to jack it up to 100% NBS with base isolation—big rubber pads under the foundation to soak up shakes. Add a spruce-up, and it’d be back hosting gigs by 2019. Simple, affordable, a win for heritage buffs and ratepayers alike. Councillors signed off, and the city nodded—$45 million felt doable.
Early Cracks in the Plan
Trouble brewed fast. By 2016, costs crept to $90 million—double the start line. Engineers found more rot than expected: dodgy foundations, knackered pipes, asbestos lurking. The council shrugged—heritage comes with quirks, right? They’d consult the public again, they said, but didn’t. “It’ll delay us,” they argued, and costs would climb more. So they ploughed on, blind to the storm brewing. That $90 million was just the first whiff of a budget about to explode.
The Budget Blowout Begins
From $90 Million to $182 Million
By 2019—the original finish date—the Town Hall was still a shell. Costs hit $112.5 million, then $182 million by 2021. Why? Scope creep, bad calls, and a council too stubborn to rethink. Base isolation stayed, but now they wanted a full refit—new acoustics, swanky interiors, the works. Covid didn’t help—supply chains choked, prices spiked. The council’s own reports admitted mismanagement: no firm grip on contractors, no cap on dreams. Ratepayers started grumbling—$182 million was four times the plan, and no end in sight.
The $330 Million Shock
Fast forward to October 2023—$330 million. RNZ broke the news: strengthening alone was $189 million, with $141 million more for “extras” like fancy fittings. Councillor Diane Calvert begged for a public rethink—too late, they said. The heritage listing locked them in; tearing it down wasn’t an option unless parliament stepped in. Councillor Ben McNulty tried—he pushed a bill to ditch heritage rules for future builds, but the Town Hall was stuck. Costs soared, and the council’s excuse? “It’s worth it.” Worth $330 million? Ratepayers weren’t sold.
Now $370 Million—and Counting?
By March 2025, whispers peg it at $370 million. No official word yet—WCC’s tight-lipped—but leaks and X posts from insiders hint at another $40 million jump. More delays, more fixes, more gold-plating. Five years past due, the council’s stopped pretending it’s on track. Instead, they’ve rolled out Anna Calver, their economic wellbeing manager, to spin a new tale: it’s nine months early—five years late. It’s a head-scratcher, but we’ll get to that. First, let’s talk about that “bird cage” facade.
The “Bird Cage” Facade Unveiled
Nicola Young’s Nickname Takes Flight
Councillor Nicola Young, hailing from the leafy heights of Mt Victoria, coined it: “the bird cage.” She’s not wrong—early renders from February 2025 show a lattice of steel and glass wrapping the Town Hall’s front, a modern twist on its Edwardian bones. It’s meant to scream “openness”—a nod to civic pride—but it’s got a cagey vibe, like something’s trapped. Young’s quip stuck on X: “A bird cage for our budget—pretty but pricey.” She’s a heritage fan but a fiscal hawk, and she’s not thrilled.
What Do We Think?
It’s a looker, no doubt—sleek, bold, a bit sci-fi against the old brick. Architects call it “innovative”; the council says it’s “welcoming.” But here’s the rub: it’s a $370 million glow-up on a building that’s bled us dry. That lattice isn’t cheap—steel’s dear, glass too, and bespoke designs cost a bomb. It’s lipstick on a pig—a pig that’s five years late and eight times over budget. Wellingtonians on X are split: “Stunning!” says one; “A cage for our cash,” snaps another. We reckon it’s flashy but flawed—a distraction from the real mess.
Five Years Late, Nine Months Early?
The Original Timeline Crumbles
Let’s rewind: 2019 was the finish line. By 2019, it was a dusty wreck—$112.5 million in, no roof, no hope. Covid hit, sure, but the council’s own fumbles—poor planning, endless tweaks—pushed it to 2024, then 2025. Five years late, no question. The Long-Term Plan took a battering; rates spiked to cover it. Wellingtonians stopped trusting the council—surveys from 2023 peg satisfaction at 17%. Fair—$45 million to $370 million in a decade’s a hard pill.
Anna Calver’s Spin Magic
Enter Anna Calver, WCC’s spin witch. In early 2025, she popped up with a line: “The Town Hall’s on track for December 2025—nine months ahead of the revised schedule.” Nine months early—five years late. She’s banking on a new baseline: the $330 million, 2026 finish floated in 2023. “We’ve tightened delivery,” she beamed, all “Positively Pōneke” vibes from her PR playbook. X lit up: “Five years late isn’t early, Anna!” She’s dodging the 2019 miss, spinning a win from a loss. It’s clever—shameless, but clever.
The Council’s Mess Exposed
Mismanagement Galore
How’d it balloon? Start with no backbone—councillors let costs spiral, scared to cut back. Heritage locked them in, but they gold-plated it: acoustics for the NZ Symphony Orchestra, plush seats, that “bird cage” facade. Contractors ran wild—$189 million for strengthening alone, per 2023 figures. Covid’s a scapegoat, but the council’s own audits flag sloppy oversight. “A money pit,” The Spinoff called it in 2023, and they’re spot-on.
Ratepayers Foot the Bill
Wellington’s hurting—rates up 175% over 10 years, pipes leaking, CBD quiet. That $370 million could’ve fixed a lot—instead, it’s a fancy hall most won’t use. Young’s right: it’s a cage for our budget. Calver’s “early” spin doesn’t erase five years of delays or eight times the cost. Trust’s gone—2024 surveys might show 0% satisfaction when they drop. The council’s a laughingstock, and this “bird cage” won’t fix that.
What’s Next?
December 2025—If We’re Lucky
If Calver’s right, it opens December 2025—nine months “early” on a dodgy clock, five years late on the real one. Will it hit $370 million? Doubt it—watch for another jump. The “bird cage” might dazzle, but it’s a hollow win if the city’s broke. Nick Mills’ tax woes pale next to this—his fight’s a sideshow; the Town Hall’s the main act of council chaos.
A Cage or a Crown?
We think the “bird cage” looks sharp—Nicola Young’s got a point with the name—but it’s a gilded cage trapping ratepayers’ cash. Ian Douglas could’ve made it sparkle for less. Five years late, $370 million deep, and Calver’s spin can’t hide the stink. It’s a monument to council folly—pretty, pricey, and a bit pathetic.