In contrast, from the footpath, placards ring with radical slogans of peace and revolution. One can clearly see the failure of the building's structure and hear the upstairs floorboards grunt under the footsteps of tenants wandering the halls.
Knocking on the door, I search for hints of motion beyond a gap in the curtains.
"What can I do for you?" asks a tall woman who, after opening the door, wishes to be known as Emma Goldman. She bears a striking resemblance to recognised protester Valerie Morse.
I tell her of my interest in 128 and am led deeper inside to a room barricaded with bookshelves and desks where she resumes her work, the tracing of a sign for the house library, Revolting Books.
"So," I begin, removing a notebook from my jacket, "what is it, exactly, that you do here?"
"The house is owned by the Lebanese Society," she begins, nodding to a chair beside her. "They used it as a social venue, and when the group became largely inactive, it was rented out."
"One of the tenants committed suicide, leaving the place empty for squatters to move in and wreck the place."
Locals in Te Aro, many of them activists, volunteered and restored the historic house to some semblance of its former glory, and now use 128 as a community centre, paying a minimal fee that covers the rates.
Non-profit organisations including Peace Movement Aoteara and Peace Action Wellington have used the space. In addition, the house has played host to various peace, human rights, environmental and cultural events.
Even the library where we now sit deals mainly in revolutionary and marginalised literature.
A short tour of the premises reveals a free hostel upstairs that caters to travellers. In the attic, banners, placards, megaphones and other tools of protest sit upon shelves. Out back I'm shown a workshop for locals and artists who, in return, donate time, labour or cash.
Banners from various environmental movements decorate the upstairs meeting rooms. One of them, hanging from what appears to be a clothesline, reads PETA - or People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.
In a sitting room facing the street, travellers sit huddled around the fire. Among them, conversation is relaxed and comfortable, the smouldering coals lighting their faces, an old, blue-grey cat, Michele, mewing in the corner.
Later, while heading for the door, I repeat my first question: "So, what again do you lot do here?"
"The people here are all volunteers," she answers, "part of a collective that maintains the house. We are working to build a centre that will serve the community."
Investigation later reveals that the Lebanese Society of New Zealand, the owner of 128, hardly exists anymore. It's been struck off the registry as an incorporated society, and therefore legally can no longer own property. The deed is still in its name, and when I mentioned this to an official from the company's office I was all but called a liar.
Despite the political activity of the groups at 128 a representative from the Lebanese Society, secretary Daniel Bakhos, during an phone interview last week claimed his society did not have a political affiliation, and was nothing more than a social club.
In addition, I never could find many members of the groups that use the building. There was a trust that funded its restoration, The Community Building Trust, that was registered as charity with a headquarters in Harbour City Towers, but when I called the office the representative I spoke to said that he had never heard of the trust.
It's all rather vague. And from the sidewalk, 128 Abel Smith St still looks like hell.
Events and organisations advertised at the front door:
The Mechanical Tempest, free bike rescue and repair shop, Wed 3-6pm, Thurs 2-6pm, Fri 1-3pm.
Revolting Books, Library of Revolutionary Literature, Revoltingbooks@gmail.com
Peace Movement Aoteara, Trades Hall 126 Vivian St Wellington, 382 8129, www.converge.org.nz/PMA
* Frank Thomas is a Citylife community newspapers journalism intern from the US.
