Coppersmith Hotel

The Old Pub, Reframed

South Melbourne doesn’t need another building pretending its history never happened. When hospitality entrepreneur George Bagios transformed the former Cricket Club Hotel into Coppersmith, architecture studio Hassell took a more intelligent approach. The original 19th-century façade was retained, while an essentially new structure was constructed behind it, including a third storey and timber rooftop deck discreetly tucked behind the decorative parapet. The result doesn’t mimic the past. It lets Victorian Melbourne and contemporary architecture occupy the same address.

Hassell: Old Outside, New Within

Inside, references to the original building are deliberately economical. Arched windows, timber floors, and structural elements retain something of the old pub’s character, while leather, copper, steel, and dark joinery pull the building firmly into the present. Copper appears throughout—as you might expect from the name—but never becomes a decorative theme. It’s an exercise in restraint: industrial without becoming raw, masculine without feeling heavy, and contemporary without erasing what came before. Since acquiring Coppersmith in 2023, owner Paul Scott has added another layer through pieces from his personal collection, including art, vinyl, and vintage magazines. The effect is less polished design showroom, more characterful neighbourhood bolthole.

Fifteen Rooms, Carefully Edited

Upstairs are just 15 rooms. White and grey dominate, softened by timber flooring, wool carpet, good beds, and warm, uncomplicated detailing. Space is used efficiently rather than theatrically; these aren’t oversized luxury suites but compact urban rooms designed around comfort and calm. White penny-tiled bathrooms continue the pared-back approach, with Appelles amenities providing a distinctly Australian finishing touch. For more space, the larger King Rooms are worth choosing, while Room Nine stands apart with dramatic floor-to-ceiling glazing.

A Hotel That Still Behaves Like a Pub

One of Coppersmith’s best qualities is that it hasn’t become detached from its neighbourhood. There’s no grand reception desk: you check in at the bar. Downstairs, the bistro remains a genuine local address rather than a restaurant created solely for hotel guests. The food has evolved over the years, but the philosophy remains grounded in elevated pub cooking rather than culinary theatre. Today, Peruvian-born chef Jose Meza puts his own stamp on Australian favourites, with steaks and barramundi alongside a predominantly Australian and New Zealand wine list, with a particular emphasis on Victoria. And there’s no hotel breakfast—which in café-obsessed South Melbourne feels less like an omission than encouragement to go outside.

Above the Rooftops

Hidden behind the old parapet is Coppersmith’s small timber rooftop terrace. In warmer months it becomes a rooftop bar; when the weather cools, guests can simply carry a drink upstairs from below. From here, the skyline of central Melbourne rises beyond South Melbourne’s much lower Victorian streetscape. It’s a small gesture, but one that captures the architecture beautifully: the old city in the foreground, the new one beyond.

Why It Works

Coppersmith understands that adaptive reuse doesn’t require turning heritage into theatre. Hassell preserved what mattered, introduced contemporary architecture where it made sense, and allowed the building’s original role as a neighbourhood gathering place to survive. With only 15 rooms, a proper local bistro and bar, and a rooftop hidden behind its Victorian façade, it feels refreshingly unmanufactured. Coppersmith isn’t trying to become a destination removed from South Melbourne—it works because it still belongs to it.