The Man Upstairs: Harry Triguboff

The city of Sydney before Meriton was a much flatter place. It exists only as a memory now, but Harry Triguboff can’t forget the way it smelled. In 1963, as the fledgling builder broke ground on his first project – a block of flats in the southern suburb of Tempe – Harry found himself caught between duelling scents.

"At the time, the brickworks was up the road at St Peters," he recalls. "The smoke used to come my way. I could smell the burning coals." Work had stalled due to a drunken foreman, forcing Harry to take charge and finish the job himself. The worksite was on Smith Street, just a few doors down from the Smiths Crisps factory.

"So I had two smells, one from the coal and one from the chips," he says. "Quite different from today." And as a result of that project, so too is Sydney. For the 88-year-old Meriton boss, the past is his prologue; the foundation upon which his astronomical success – not to mention some of Sydney’s greatest heights – is built.

"That drunk foreman was a blessing," Harry says. "The new foreman, a very clever, very honest Scotsman, turned out to be the right man. He worked for me for many, many years; we finished that block and the next 300 blocks."

Those blocks, high and low, have become an integral part of Sydney’s cityscape. At Meriton’s inception, its Managing Director could only look upon the city’s tallest spires from a distance.

"At first I didn’t think I was ready to go any higher," Harry says. "Once I started with tall buildings, I probably built more than anyone else." Today, views have replaced smells as Harry’s fondest keepsake. "High-rises have views which low-rises don’t have," he opines with some authority from his World Tower office high above Sydney’s CBD.

The people that work here think that it’s their business, not just mine, and that’s the way I want it.

"Purchasers have the ability to see everything." Living space is another consideration; the cottages and terraces of yesteryear seem positively claustrophobic compared to ‘high-rise Harry’s’ oeuvre. "High-density living, in my opinion, is very desirable," he says. "You have tens of metres between you and the next guy."

Management is another plus: "They look after the building, and when people get to my age, they need somebody to do that. So it’s good for the very young and the very old, and there are many of both." Harry’s read on public opinion is famously on point; it wasn’t just cranes and elevators that took Meriton to the top of the industry.

"I always listen and have always listened to what the public wants," he says. "Anybody that doesn’t listen to the public will pay a heavy price." And even after almost 60 years in business, the public is still buying what Harry’s selling. Meriton’s recent entry into the Melbourne property scene was, he claims, by demand.

"Everyone’s always wanted me Living space is another consideration; the cottages and terraces of yesteryear seem positively claustrophobic compared to ‘high-rise Harry’s’ oeuvre. "High-density living, in my opinion, is very desirable," he says.

"You have tens of metres between you and the next guy." Management is another plus: "They look after the building, and when people get to my age, they need somebody to do that. So it’s good for the very young and the very old, and there are many of both."

Harry’s read on public opinion is famously on point; it wasn’t just cranes and elevators that took Meriton to the top of the industry.

"I always listen and have always listened to what the public wants," he says. "Anybody that doesn’t listen to the public will pay a heavy price." And even after almost 60 years in business, the public is still buying what Harry’s selling. Meriton’s recent entry into the Melbourne property scene was, he claims, by demand.

"Everyone’s always wanted me We’re always changing our outlook, we always do more and get involved with other facets. But this is the way a business has to grow."

Meriton has survived industry booms and busts, an abortive public float and, most recently, a global pandemic. When the market fell hard at the outset of COVID-19, Harry drew on his legendary resolve.

"We did what we always do: we met the market," he says. "Our sales diminished in number and value but it didn’t last long, we didn’t really suffer much. When the market goes up, we go with it."

And despite turning back on his 1969 decision to go public, Harry believes Meriton belongs to its people. "The people that work here think that it’s their business, not just mine, and that’s the way I want it," he says. At the same time, CEOs should be involved with as many employees as possible.

Anybody that doesn’t listen to the public will pay a heavy price.

"Being accessible to staff is very important because if you talk to them, they can tell you things you’d never think of, and you might do the same," Harry says. "You’ll understand the business better, they’ll understand it better and they’ll feel more like they’re a part of it."

Meriton puts the same focus on its relationship with suppliers such as A-Tech Australia, knowing that strong, sustained partnerships are integral to the brand’s success. It’s this sense of teamwork and belonging that’s an important part of the property game.

By congruously placing its towers among the skylines of Australia’s east coast, Meriton is in the very business of belonging – and Harry says location is the key to the kingdom. "Location you can’t change. Design, if you’ve made a mistake you can fix it, or you can pull it down and build a new one.

Always think of location first." These days the Tempe brickworks and the Smiths Crisps factory are long gone, but Harry’s first unit block remains. From a design perspective, the simple red brick two-storey walk-up is a world away from its towering cousins in the CBD, but it has endured, as have Tempe’s natural virtues. "Tempe has a river very close to where I built," Harry recalls.

"We never enjoyed that river at the time, didn’t even look at it. But it’s very close. It’s very nice there." Perhaps necessity took priority over location for the young developer, but whatever the case, Harry’s instinct paid off. It’s done so ever since.

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