he question usually arrives with a life change, not a design magazine.
The kids have moved out, and the big open living zone that once held homework, dinner and three conversations at once now feels like a hall you heat for two people. Or the family has grown, and there is nowhere in the house where one person can take a call while another practises piano. Either way, the home that used to work doesn't quite fit any more — and the first question many Oakleigh, Malvern and Carnegie homeowners bring to us is some version of this one: should we open it up, or close some of it back in?
It is a better question than it sounds, because the honest answer in 2026 is: usually both, in different places.
Why open plan had such a long run
Open plan earned its popularity. Knocking through a dark 1970s kitchen into the living room transformed thousands of Melbourne homes — more light, better connection to the garden, one generous space where the household naturally gathers. For families with young children, being able to cook while keeping an eye on the play area is not a trend, it is a daily practicality.
The limitations only show up once you live with it. Sound travels. Cooking smells travel. Heating one vast volume through a Melbourne winter costs real money. And when everyone is home at once — which, with hybrid work, is now most of the time — there is nowhere to be apart.
What's changed since the household changed
Two shifts in how we live have quietly rebalanced the argument.
The first is working from home. When one or two people take video calls most days, "a quiet spot at the dining table" stops being a workable answer. A door you can close has become one of the most requested items in the briefs we take.
The second is the life-stage moment itself. A growing family often needs zones — connected, but separable, so that a teenager's music and a parent's meeting can coexist. A household whose children have left often needs the opposite: not more space, but better-shaped space. A smaller, warmer living area used every evening, and rooms that can earn their keep as a study, a guest room, or space for adult kids who visit — rather than one large zone that no longer has a job.
Neither of these points toward pure open plan or a return to the corridor-and-six-closed-rooms house. They point toward what we'd call defined openness: a generous shared heart to the home, with rooms around it that have real boundaries and real purposes.
The questions that decide it — before any walls move
When we start a project, we don't begin with the plan. We begin by listening to how the household actually runs, because that is what decides this question. The ones that do the most work:
Who is home, and when? A house that is full from 4pm onward has different needs from one that is busiest on weekends. Map a normal Tuesday before you commit to a layout.
Where does noise come from, and where does it need not to reach? Kitchens, kids and televisions on one side of the line; calls, sleep and reading on the other. If a layout can't keep those apart, it will frustrate you regardless of how it photographs.
What does winter cost you now? Volume is expensive to heat. A well-defined room with northern light can be comfortable at a fraction of the running cost of a double-height void. In Melbourne's climate this belongs in the decision, not in the fine print.
Which rooms have no job? If a formal lounge is used twice a year, that is not an argument for demolishing it — it is an argument for giving it a job worth keeping a door for.
What will this house need in ten years? The best answer for a family of five today should not box out the household of two it may become. Flexibility — rooms that can change jobs without another renovation — is usually worth more than either openness or definition alone.
What this means for your own home
If you are standing in a house that no longer fits — too open, too closed, or simply arranged for a life you're not living any more — the useful next step is not choosing a style. It is understanding what your specific house, on your specific block, can become, and what that would actually cost.
That is exactly what a feasibility study is for. It is a fixed-cost first step: we look at your home, your block, how you live and what you want to change, and give you a clear picture of what is possible and the realistic cost range — before you commit to drawings, permits or a builder. For most of the homeowners we work with, it is the point where "should we open it up or close it in?" stops being a debate and becomes a plan.
If your home has reached that point, [book a feasibility consultation] and we'll start the way we always do — by listening.
Mark MacInnis is a Melbourne architect based in the city's south-east, working with homeowners across Kew, Malvern, Oakleigh, Carnegie and the surrounding suburbs on renovations, extensions and dual-occupancy projects. His work has been featured in The Age and Best Houses Australia.