By Brian McKechnie, Chairman of Rand Club Johannesburg
Rand Club has always felt alive to me. Its corridors seem to hold time quietly and steadily. You can feel the presence of the people who built it, and there is something familiar in the way the light settles across the rooms. It feels much the same as it must have done a century ago.
Over the past few weeks, while work was carried out in the Rhodes Room and at the front entrance, I found myself thinking about what it really means to care for a place like this. Not simply keeping it standing but looking after it in a way that respects its age and its meaning.
Restoration is not just about fixing what is broken. It is about remembering. It is about looking past the wear and recognising what remains, and why it matters.
A Building that Breathes
Opened in 1887 and rebuilt in 1904, Rand Club is one of Johannesburg’s few remaining historic buildings. Its Edwardian architecture carries a quiet sense of balance and dignity. The design is measured. The decoration is restrained. Every room has a particular character. The Library is calm. The Billiard Room has a gentle energy. The Rhodes Room feels reflective, as if it has been quietly listening for years.
Our attention recently turned to the Rhodes Room and the main entrance. The Rhodes Room, often used for meetings and lunches, had started to look tired. The paint had faded, and the warmth of the room had grown dull. At the front door, years of use had left their mark. Neither area gets much natural light, but time has made itself visible all the same.
Both spaces were carefully repainted. Nothing dramatic. Just enough to bring back their presence. Once the work was finished, the building felt lighter somehow, as if it had taken a breath.
The Meaning of Restoration
There is something very human about restoring a room. It asks you to pay attention. To see not just what needs repair, but what is worth preserving. The job may be simple, but the gesture carries weight.
Walking through the Rhodes Room after the painters had finished, with the smell of fresh paint still in the air, I was reminded of how much these rooms have seen. The walls and cornices have held conversations that changed the direction of the Club. They have been shaped by decisions and filled with moments that linger. To repaint them is not to erase the past. It is to respect it.
Outside, the entrance now looks cared for again. The woodwork has been refreshed and catches the light cleanly. It marks the point of arrival, where Members and guests pause before stepping inside. Seeing it restored felt symbolic. A reminder that looking after a building starts with how we welcome people into it.
Heritage as Responsibility
Johannesburg has always been a city shaped by change. Its story is one of growth and reinvention. Yet the buildings that have lasted through all of that hold something important. They connect the present to the past.
The South African Heritage Resources Agency has often spoken of conservation as something rooted in people rather than buildings. A heritage site that is looked after becomes part of how a city speaks to itself. It is not simply a relic. It is a living part of the community.
In a fast-moving world, choosing to slow down and take care of something old is not just practical – it is thoughtful. Restoration is not just maintenance – it is a reflection.
Stewardship, Not Ownership
As Chairman, I have come to see my role less as leadership and more as stewardship. Rand Club does not belong to any of us. We belong to it. The building holds a quiet kind of discipline and asks only that we pay attention.
That sense of responsibility comes with humility. A place like this does not ask for fanfare. It asks for care. And when it receives that, it responds with strength and presence. The Rhodes Room now feels as it should. The light moves differently across the walls. The portraits seem clearer. You notice them more.
The entrance, freshly painted, feels less like a doorway and more like a crossing point. It invites people in without telling them what to expect. It reminded me that buildings are not static. They are shaped by the way people move through them, the way they look around, and the way they pause.
The Cost and Value of Preservation
Restoration is rarely simple work. It takes time, skill and funding. The South African Council for the Built Environment has noted that maintaining heritage buildings often costs significantly more than looking after a newer structure. The materials and expertise required can be more specialised. But the value lies in what is protected.
Every brushstroke, every hour spent on careful work, extends the life of something that cannot be replaced. Heritage is not renewable. Once it is gone, it is gone. At Rand Club, each decision to restore or preserve is a quiet vote of confidence in the future. It is a belief that our past still has something to offer.
A Place That Holds People
Restoration is also emotional. People respond differently in a space that feels cared for. The British Psychological Society has written about how our surroundings affect how we think and feel. Spaces that respect their own history tend to encourage calm and awareness.
We have seen that at the Club. People spend more time in the Rhodes Room now. They speak more softly. They notice the details. There is a quiet pride in the room that was not there before. It feels good to know that the place is being looked after.
A building that feels looked after helps people feel looked after too.
Legacy in the Everyday
When I look at the Rhodes Room now, I do not see a project that is finished. I see something steady. Something renewed. The same is true of the front entrance. These are small repairs, but they reflect something larger. Legacy is not built in grand gestures. It is shaped through small, thoughtful decisions made over time.
Heritage is about continuity. At Rand Club, we are not trying to freeze the past. We are making space for it in the present. That is what real architectural care looks like. It holds on to what we were given and helps shape what we will pass on.
The Work Still to Come
There will always be more to do. Buildings are not static. They move with the seasons, with the people who use them, and with the city around them.
Our responsibility is to keep listening to what the Club needs. To care for the details. To keep walking the corridors with respect. To leave the building a little better than we found it.
Rand Club’s Membership page describes the Club as a place for those who value history, community and refinement. It welcomes thinkers, builders and dreamers. People who see that progress and preservation do not compete – they work together.
A Final Moment
When the last ladder was packed away and the painters had gone, I found myself walking through the Rhodes Room alone. The light fell gently on the walls. The air felt clear. It was as if the room understood what had just happened.
Standing at the front entrance, newly repainted and familiar again, I realised something. Looking after a place like this is not about clinging to the past. It is about being thankful for what we have. Stewardship is a privilege, and with that privilege comes the quiet duty to protect what is beautiful.
In a world that builds quickly and forgets just as fast, Rand Club endures. It endures because it remembers. And perhaps that is what restoration really is. It is a way of remembering well.
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Brian McKechnie is Chairman of Rand Club, established in 1887. The Club serves as both a heritage institution and a modern venue for intellectual discourse in central Johannesburg.