Michael Petzet, Principles of Conservation
Content:
I. Maintenance, Repair, Rehabilitation
II. Conservation, Restoration, Renovation
III. Replacement and Completion of Components
IV. The Replica as a Means of Saving a Monument
V. Relocation of Monuments
VI. Reconstruction and Rebuilding
VII. Principles of Archaeological Heritage Management
VIII. Reversibility as Principle of Preservation
IX. Authenticity and Preservation
Published trilingually in 1992 under the title "Grundsätze der Denkmalpflege / Principles of Monument Conservation / Principes de la Conservation des Monuments Historiques", volume X of the Journals of the German National Committee of ICOMOS has long been out of print; continued demand justifies a new edition. For the present bilingual volume the principles, expanding in part on an interpretation of the Venice Charter, have been extended by sections treating replicas, relocation, reconstruction and rebuilding, as well as by a new chapter on the principles of archaeological heritage management. These are supplemented by chapters on reversibility and on the issue of authenticity; the latter, which touches on the fundamentals of preservation theory and practice, has generated lively debate since the Nara Conference in 1994. An illustrated German edition of the principles is planned for next year. Thanks are extended to Margaret Thomas Will M. A., Dr. Béatrice Hernad and Dr. Denis André Chevalley for the translation from the German into English and French, as well as to Hannelore Puttinger, who has shown tireless commitment to the work of the German National Committee of ICOMOS for more than ten years.
M. Pz.
In discussions of the basic tenets of modern preservation general terms such as "restoration" or "reconstruction" - terms that are historically
encumbered and subject to various interpretations - and catchphrases such as "conserve, do not restore" sometimes cause us to overlook the fact that
general principles do indeed exist, quite independently of whether or not the goals of preservation actually can be met under the varying legal provisions that support
monument protection. Indeed, there are principles of preservation that have always been valid, or should have been so, including the (seemingly) self-evident truth that
conservation means taking care of monuments, preserving and maintaining them, not falsifying, damaging, impairing or even destroying them. In fact, there is an international
paper on principles that is still valid today, the Venice Charter (Charter for the Conservation and Restoration of Monuments and Sites), passed in May 1964 by the Second
International Congress of Architects and Technicians of Historic Monuments. From a current perspective the charter could of course be revised in places and supplemented
with additional points of emphasis.
"The concept of a historic monument", reads article 1 of the charter, "embraces not only the single architectural work but also the urban or rural setting
in which is found the evidence of a particular civilization, a significant development or a historic event. This applies not only to great works of art but also to more modest
works of the past which have acquired cultural significance with the passing of time." The concept of historic districts and the related issues of urban conservation
planning, which have become relevant in recent years, are touched upon only marginally in article 14 of the charter, which notes that work in these fields "should be
inspired by the principles set forth in the foregoing articles": "The sites of monuments must be the object of special care in order to safeguard their integrity
and ensure that they are cleared and presented in a seemly manner."
Our prime concern is the preservation and conservation of the original fabric and appearance of individual monuments and of historic districts, which together represent
a wealth of historic evidence. The "originalness" of a monument does not, however, refer to its earliest appearance but rather also encompasses later alterations
- the sum of various historic states that overlap one another like the annual rings of a tree. We must also recognize the indissoluble connections among all the parts of a
monument and between the monument and its decorative features, which should no more be torn out of their context.
Accordingly, under the heading "Conservation" articles 6 through 8 of the charter state "The conservation of a monument implies preserving a setting which is not out of scale. Wherever the traditional setting exists, it must be kept. No new construction, demolition or modification which would alter the relations of mass and colour must be allowed" (article 6); "A monument is inseparable from the history to which it bears witness and from the setting in which it occurs" (article 7); "Items of sculpture, painting or decoration which form an integral part of a monument may only be removed from it if this is the sole means of ensuring their preservation" (article 8). A further prerequisite for the preservation of monuments concerns function, about which article 5 of the charter states: "The conservation of monuments is always facilitated by making use of them for some socially useful purpose. Such use is therefore desirable but it must not change the lay-out or decoration of the building. It is within these limits only that modifications demanded by a change of function should be envisaged and may be permitted."
Given these basic requirements, preservation practice - as a discipline which focuses on the authentic historic monument in its original location, within its setting and with
a given function - is generally faced with problems that are all the greater if the historic fabric of a monument is very diverse and if multiple interventions are necessary to
preserve the building itself and to either maintain its original function or allow for a new function. Article 5 of the Venice Charter, already quoted above, refers to the limits
that must be placed on modifications necessary for the use of a monument, limits which must be emphasized because of a modern tendency toward "use fetishism"
("a monument without a use is lost"). Without going into more detail concerning the very important basic issue of use as a general prerequisite for the preservation
of certain categories of monuments, we need only point out here that under the "useful function" of a monument we can understand not only its actual use, whatever
that may be, but also its cultural statements, such as the aesthetic statement of an "art monument" or the historical statement of a "historic monument"
(for example the function of a historic building as a spatial and historical "point of orientation").
In any case modern preservation practice, understood as a conscious safeguarding of evidence, has to be able to justify responsibility for the loss of certain historic layers in some
circumstances or be able to tolerate losses at times for the sake of the continued guarantee of a monument′s function. Only as a discipline operating scientifically will preservation
be able to master the issues involved in weigthing gains against losses, to surmount the problems that every work decision presents, and to meet its obligation to document what
is lost. "The conservation and restoration of monuments must have recourse to all the sciences and techniques which can contribute to the study and safeguarding of
the architectural heritage" asserts article 2 of the Venice Charter.
Today the scientific aspect of preservation is a self-evident and generally accepted requirement that can also be satisfied sensibly in economic terms. This is true for the documentation that is necessary to prepare, accompany and conclude every individual project that is carried out according to the methods and principles described in the following. The Venice Charter closes along these lines with article 16, which is in fact self-evident for the scientific-based discipline of preservation but for various reasons is often badly neglected in practice: "In all works of preservation, restoration or excavation, there should always be precise documentation in the form of analytical and critical reports, illustrated with drawings and photographs. Every stage of the work of clearing, consolidation, rearrangement and integration, as well as technical and formal features identified during the course of the work, should be included. This record should be placed in the archives of a public institution and made available to research workers. It is recommended that the report should be published."
Table of contents ↑I. Maintenance, Repair, Rehabilitation
More and more monuments "glow with a new splendor", our villages are "renewed" thanks to public programs, entire quarters of old towns are "
completely rehabilitated": In view of the losses inevitably connected with all these measures, we may be reminded of the old saying "poverty is the best
preservationist". But then again it can be rightly pointed out that in other countries entire monument landscapes are perishing forever for want of building maintenance;
this problem effects the age-old traditional earthen architecture of northern Africa, which is particularly dependent on constant maintenance, as well as the decaying
stone buildings of abandoned villages and towns in some regions of Europe. A lack, for various reasons, of the most basic maintenance work is a problem that is sometimes
overlooked for so long in preservation practice that expensive repairs become necessary. In such situations the question may arise of whether the damages are already so
advanced that repair is no longer possible; then either the ultimate loss of the monument must be accepted or a drastic rehabilitation may have to be undertaken as the only
alternative.
In the following the repair of monuments is understood as a general term that includes measures for conservation and stabilization, for restoration, for renovation, and for the
replacement of missing elements, whereas maintenance is used to mean limited, continuous preservation work, and rehabilitation refers to sweeping measures also related to the
term "modernization".
In contrast to normal building maintenance, maintenance of historic buildings must always take into account the preservation value of the fabric as well as the monument character
of a structure. Under these conditions, proper maintenance can be the simplest and gentlest type of preservation because it guards against potential damages, especially those
caused by weathering, and thus preserves monuments intact over centuries. "It is essential to the conservation of monuments that they be maintained on a permanent
basis" asserts article 4 of the Venice Charter.
The maintenance of a historic building includes seemingly self-evident measures such as the cleaning of gutters or the re-nailing of damaged roof tiles, work that an owner can
easily carry out himself and that wards off extensive damage. Work of such simple craftsmanship as the occasional renewal of the paint on window frames could also be counted
in this category. Obviously such maintenance work should be oriented to the existing materials and skilled craft techniques with which the historic building was erected; for example,
replacement tiles made of clay for the roof, oil paint for the windows. For maintenance measures such as plaster repairs or paint work on historic building components or on a facade,
the professional advice of a preservation agency is necessary. Proper maintenance is a direct outcome when a historic building is used appropriately (particularly in the case of
residential use). The maintenance work carried out on individual historic buildings can add up to an old town that does not deny its age but is nonetheless very much alive, an old
town that neither seems unnecessarily "spruced up" nor approaches a state of decay that might be picturesque but in fact is highly dangerous to the historic fabric.
Apart from buildings in continual use, some categories of monuments - from stone boundary markers to castle ruins - require only occasional maintenance measures, but the work
must be done again and again; removal of plant growth that endangers the fabric of a castle ruin is one such example. Still other types of monuments such as historic parks with
their paths and plantings require constant intensive care. Certain industrial monuments - an old locomotive, a steamship or a power station, for instance - that are outdated
technically and have become more or less museum objects must also be intensively "serviced", just as if they were still in use. On the other hand, our underground
archaeological monuments could survive without any maintenance for centuries and millennia - if only they were protected from constant endangerment caused by human
interference.
Special problems of maintenance are presented by the decorative features of historic buildings. There is a broad spectrum of possible damages resulting from neglect (such
as the unprotected storage of valuable fittings or objects in an attic), from incorrect climate control in interior spaces, from improper handling of flowers or candles in churches,
and even from cleaning or dusting undertaken in the name of monument care. For sensitive works of art even a seemingly harmless cleaning can have a damaging effect; in such
cases maintenance should be entrusted to appropriate specialists only.
In this context reference can be made to a trend-setting model, of which little use has been made to date: maintenance contracts with restorers for outstanding decorative features
which are particularly endangered, for instance for climatic reasons. Threats to works of art could thus be identified early; minor initial damages could be repaired year for year
by a restorer without great expense. Over the long term the sum of simple conservation measures would make major restoration work superfluous - certainly the ideal case of
maintenance but in fact nothing different than the usual care that every car owner bestows on his automobile in order to preserve its value, nothing other than the service
contract for the heating system or the washing machine. Yet the car and the washing machine are items of daily use that can be replaced by new ones at any time, whereas the
unique fittings of our historic buildings cannot be replaced; waiting until the next major restoration becomes due often means an irretrievable loss. With modifications this model
could also be applied to maintenance contracts for the general preservation of historic buildings; restorers or craftsmen specialized in certain fields could look after given historic
buildings in coordination with the preservation agencies, just as the chimney sweep makes his routine inspections.
Just how seriously the issue of maintenance must be taken is shown by the possibility of deliberate neglect, whereby the conditions needed for a demolition permit are quite
consciously attained.
Finally, certain precautionary measures against catastrophes and accidents (such as systems for fire prevention, theft security, etc.) could also be counted as part of the
continual maintenance that guarantees the survival of a monument. Planning for such measures must, however, be coupled with appropriate preservation-oriented preliminary
investigations.
Even if the boundaries between maintenance and repair are fluid, in general the repair of a monument would be defined as work which occurs at greater intervals and is often necessitated by inadequate maintenance. Individual components of a monument might be repaired, added to or replaced. We can even speak of continuous repair, if work such as the routine replacement of stones on certain monuments (as exemplified in particular by the stonemason workshops of medieval cathedrals) is interpreted as repair rather than being classified under the term maintenance.
The first principle of repair should be: Following thorough analysis all work is to be limited to the truly necessary!
Unfortunately it is a mistake to assume that the higher costs for unnecessary work would anyway ensure that only necessary work will be done. Quite apart from increased
costs, various factors - ranging from a change in use, an increase in the standards of the use, inadequate preliminary investigations, improper planning, inappropriate techniques,
poor execution of work, or sometimes even a misguided "preservation" plan that inclines toward perfection - can also lead to an unnecessary, radical renewal after
which practically nothing is left of the monument.
Out of the principle of limitation to the necessary - in fact self-evident but nonetheless always in need of special emphasis - arises the principle that repair takes priority over
renewal (that is, replacement of components): As far as possible repair rather than renew! In general repair is understood to mean the most careful and localized exchange of
materials or building components possible.
Without going into the parallels to this principle in the field of art restoration, the principle of limitation to the necessary together with the principle of the priority of repair over
renewal should be made clear to planners and especially to the craftsmen who carry out the work - craftsmen whose training today has accustomed them instead to building a new
wall, replastering an old wall, carpentering a new roof frame, re-tiling a roof, making new floors, new windows and new doors, etc. The fact that preservation principles call for
limitation to absolutely necessary measures, and thus for repair work that is adapted to the actual extent of damages - in other words stabilization and repair of the existing wall,
refilling of the gaps in the old plaster, re-nailing of the roof covering, mending of the poorly closing window and the old door - often demands radical rethinking not only on the
part of planners and craftsmen but in particular on the part of monument owners. In our modern throw-away society the abilities to repair materials and to use them sparingly -
in earlier centuries a matter of course for economic reasons - are often underdeveloped or completely lost. Instead we produce not only consumer goods but to a certain
degree even entire buildings on the assembly line, and after depreciation they are in fact "used up" disposable buildings. Everyone understands today that an old
country cupboard, after its repair, satisfactorily fulfills its purpose as a cupboard and simultaneously represents a valuable original piece (paid for dearly on the art market), whereas
a new cupboard made in imitation of the old has a comparatively low value. Quite apart from the issue of material value, a respect for the value of the original as historic
evidence - respect which would call for repair instead of replacement of the Baroque stairs and the banister railing, refilling of gaps in plaster rather than complete renewal of
the plaster - unfortunately cannot be taken for granted.
Just as the maintenance of an authentic historic monument preserves original materials which have been worked in traditional techniques, the repair of a monument must be carried out in appropriate materials and techniques, provided that a modern conservation technique does not have to be used to ensure preservation. That means: Repair using traditional materials and techniques!
A door, a window frame, a roof structure are thus best mended using an appropriate wood; old plaster is best supplemented in an analogous technique; likewise brick masonry
is best repaired with bricks, a rubble wall with rubble stone, etc. Used as an addition to old plasterwork or as new plaster over old masonry walls, modern cement plaster for
example is not only an aesthetic problem but also soon becomes a serious construction problem leading to further deterioration; the same is true for a concrete fill in a
masonry wall. In a church an old floor made of sandstone or Solnhofer slabs should be repaired using the same kind of stone, as the only way to retain the original rather than
replacing it with a modern stone material.
As far as possible all such repair measures are to be executed according to skilled craft techniques. In many cases modern hand tools or small electric machines can also be
used to a reasonable extent, but the technical aids of the modern large-scale construction site should not be employed as they can only lead to unnecessary destruction in a
historic building. Sensitive skilled repair that is adapted to the old methods of construction and especially to the old surfaces is much more the issue than is the demand for
imitation of historic techniques.
The principle of repairs using historic materials and techniques does not mean that in special cases the most modern techniques must be excluded, for instance if traditional repair
cannot remedy the cause of damage or if repairs would destroy essential monument qualities whereas modern technology would guarantee greater success in the preservation of
historic fabric. In certain cases the use of conservation-oriented technology for stabilization and safeguarding is unavoidable.
In general the same preservation principles are also valid if, in addition to mere repair work, certain ruined components have to be completely exchanged: for example, use
of traditional clay roof tiles which, aside from their aesthetic effect, possess different physical properties than substitute materials such as concrete tiles; use of wooden
window frames instead of plastic ones, of window shutters instead of roller blinds; rejection of all the popular facade coverings of asbestos cement or plastic, etc. This
means renunciation of modern industrial throw-away products that are propagandized daily in advertisements; aside from their other characteristics, these products can
in fact only disfigure a historic building.
Another point that is of importance for all preservation work involves the principle of reversibility: interventions necessary in connection with repair work such as mending and
replacement of components should be "undoable". This principle, not directly addressed in the Venice Charter but mentioned often in modern preservation practice,
is closely connected to the principles of repair described above. Because interventions are unavoidable, this principle mostly involves approximate values - more or less reversible -
rather than an "absolute" reversibility that can only rarely be guaranteed.
It is obvious that repair work which is limited to the truly necessary - the mending of a damaged stone stair step by means of a set-in piece, or the replacement of a ceiling beam -
is certainly more easily reversible (for instance when further repairs or alterations become necessary in the future) than is the replacement in concrete of entire structural components
or systems such as stairs, ceilings, girders or supports. Aside from the irretrievable losses that arise at the time such work is done, it would be much more difficult or almost
impossible in the future to remove an entire concrete framework than it would be to exchange a few beams. Moreover, even without being demolished a totally "rebuilt"
historic monument for which the principle of reversible repair has been neglected will lose its character as historical evidence.
Finally, repair work also encompasses technology for stabilizing and safeguarding monuments. Whereas repair work in general involves removal of damaged elements and replacement
with new materials - resulting in a very careful exchange of materials or building components limited to the actual location of the damage - stabilization measures have a
conservation-oriented objective that excludes as far as possible the replacement of materials or structural elements. Here, too, interventions in the original fabric cannot be
avoided, for example in cases involving consolidation, hardening, impregnation, pinnings or injections of substances such as lime trass or cement suspensions. Often just
such "invisible" interventions as these are rather massive. Techniques also include substitute structural systems and protective fittings against weathering, the
effects of light, etc. Stabilization technology covers the broad spectrum of materials and constructions within a monument, from the conservation of pigments, paint layers and
plasters to the structural securing of historic foundations, walls and load-bearing systems. Deciding whether and how repairs should be made or how a safeguarding measure
should be carried out are certainly among the more difficult, specialized planning tasks for which the preservationist together with the engineer, chemist or restorer must work
out a technical plan that accords with the nature of the monument. Without preliminary investigations to ascertain a building′s particular historic features and to identify damages,
qualified decisions in this field are not possible; moreover results will be random and hardly controllable for preservation purposes.
With the example of a totally "rebuilt" historic monument we come close to the term rehabilitation. Subject to very different interpretations, rehabilitation refers in current practice to more comprehensive and far-reaching work than is involved in the forms of preservation-oriented repair described here. Occasionally there is reference to the "rehabilitation" of individual art monuments, whereby a whole bundle of measures could be understood: for instance in the case of a gravestone not only elimination of existing damages, adhesion of fractures, replacement of missing elements, and consolidation of materials, but also precautionary measures against environmental influences such as a protective roof and insulation between the stone and the masonry work. Today the term rehabilitation implies much more than "recovery": rather, it refers to work that is in part necessary but also is in part much too extensive and radical. Such work often results from the need to accommodate modern standards and provisions or to change a building′s use; sometimes it is an outcome of revitalization measures that are not necessarily focussed on a building′s historic fabric.
Rehabilitation work undertaken to accommodate a building to today′s residential needs (for example through installation of a new heating system or renewal of electrical or
sanitary systems) usually involves necessary modernization measures which go beyond purely preservation-oriented repair work. But the basic preservation principle is
valid here, too: interventions in the original fabric made in connection with modernization work should be kept as limited as possible while nonetheless enabling reasonable
further use. The more conscientiously the preservation-oriented preliminary investigations which are essential for such a project are carried out, the more favorable will be
the overall circumstances for preservation. A preliminary investigation shows, for instance, where new ducts could or could not be laid, where later walls could or could not be
removed without damage, how the structural system could be most carefully corrected, etc.
This applies to historic dwellings, from farmhouses to palaces, as well as to ecclesiastical buildings. For churches, rehabilitation (often dampproofing) and "modernization"
(typically installation of a heating system) often involve major interventions in the floor and thereby in a zone of important archaeological findings. It is obvious that the rehabilitation
of public buildings can lead far beyond the repair that becomes necessary from time to time, involving massive interventions that are determined by the building′s function and
by special requirements and that are regulated by the relevant provisions and standards (fire walls, emergency routes, new staircases, elevators, etc.).
The term urban rehabilitation is used to refer to the rehabilitation of an urban quarter or an entire city rather than a single building. Extensive investigations of the economic and social
structure can precede urban rehabilitation. In some circumstances they are based on general demands - for example for transformation into a "central business district"
with department stores, for provision of parking buildings, etc. - that simply deny the given historic structure. Clearance urban renewal as practiced widely in the past decades has
resulted in either total removal of all historic buildings and thus, from a preservation standpoint, has actually achieved the opposite of "rehabilitation", or it has involved
extensive demolition and restructuring with the retention of a few historic buildings, which is likewise tantamount to far-reaching annihilation of the monument stock and the historic
infrastructure. The readily used term "urban renewal" can signal "urban destruction" from a preservation perspective. By now clearance renewal has
fortunately become the exception, and frequently urban rehabilitation is being practiced "from building to building". In the best cases repair in a preservation-oriented
sense is being practiced according to the principles already described above, and the necessary modernization work is carefully accommodated to the historic fabric. Of course
the success of rehabilitation depends critically on a compatible use for a monument.
Rehabilitation of a single building or of an entire urban quarter thus calls for application of the same preservation principles as already described for repair work. As the most telling
example of the "achievements" of modern technology, clearance renewal has proved that rehabilitation which is going to have a preservation orientation has need from
the beginning of "gentle", more traditional practices. Modern technologies are undesirable if their implementation requires procedures according to the tabula rasa method,
or if they cause enormous initial damages: for instance, the large opening made in the churchyard wall or the city walls (indeed demolition of half the structure that is actually intended
for "rehabilitation") just in order to get the equipment "on the scene" and to work "rationally". Here in many cases it would be more
advantageous economically as well to work from a preservation-oriented standpoint. Of course this is valid for the principle of limitation to the truly necessary and thus for the
principle of repair, emphasized here again and again, according to which monuments can be kept in a usable state. For repairs that are necessary in the course of a rehabilitation -
for the replacement of truly worn out historic fabric, the replacement of windows, etc. - the principle of repair using traditional materials and techniques must be applied; in other
words, no metal or plastic window frames, no new cornice made of concrete, etc.
In contrast, modern materials and techniques can of course also be employed for stabilization measures, structural work, dampproofing, etc. necessary as part of a rehabilitation,
as well as for the technical equipment needed for use of the monument or for additions and alterations that might be necessary. However, over and above the principle of limitation
to the necessary, the question must be posed again and again concerning the compatibility of the use which is to follow a rehabilitation.
The principle of reversibility will also be very helpful in judging a rehabilitation measure. For instance, the partition wall necessary for use of a building can be "reversibly"
inserted as a light construction without massive intervention in the wall and ceiling, and thus could be removed during future alterations without difficulty. The same applies to certain
necessary interior fittings in historic spaces (for example sanitary modules) that also can be made reversible like a "piece of furniture". In this context the preservationist
must always pose critical questions: why must a roofing structure be converted into a "coffin lid" of concrete that burdens the entire structural system of a building,
why is the entire foundation of a church to be replaced irreversibly in concrete? Is this intrusion in the historic fabric from above or below really necessary for preservation of
the building? Is there not a much simpler, less radical, perhaps also essentially more intelligent rehabilitation solution? From a larger perspective the new building which
accommodates itself within a gap in the property lots of an old town undergoing urban rehabilitation - a modest solution reduced to the necessary - will also appear more
reversible than a structure such as a parking building or a high-rise that irrevocably breaks up the urban structure by extending over property lots, causing damages that from
a preservation standpoint can hardly ever be made good again.
II. Conservation, Restoration, Renovation
In the history of preservation the terms conservation, restoration and renovation have sometimes been very differently defined, for example with Dehio′s catchphrase "
conserve, do not restore". Even in modern specialized literature they are often used without differentiation - restoration as a general term for restoration and conservation,
renovation instead of restoration or the other way around - not to mention the fact that in some countries an additional term, "reconstruction", is used instead of
restoration or renovation in historic building preservation regardless of whether a structure is in fact being reconstructed, restored, renovated or merely conserved.
Of course even if the term restoration must cover preservation measures of very different types, from restoration of prehistoric ceramics or of a painting to restoration of the
exterior or interior of a large historic building, it appears useful to define conservation, restoration and renovation as different methods of repair with different objectives, within
the framework of the overall heading of "repair" of monuments already described here in its comprehensive meaning. Although the terms can thus be differentiated
from one another, in fact these methods must of necessity be used in combination because the establishment of a plan for the repair of a monument must be based in practice on
the actual circumstances of its state of preservation, its environment, its significance and its previous and future function. The important field of stabilization and safeguarding,
already mentioned above, is to be considered within the context of conservation.
Overlapping with one another in practice, the repair methods used in conservation and stabilization, restoration and renovation must be precisely understood because unfortunately the basic goal of all preservation work frequently disappears - as if behind a wall of fog - behind justifying, undifferentiated catchwords for a successful "restoration" or "renovation" which in fact cover up all manner of work - and in extreme cases even destruction of the original. To repeat once again: Every preservation measure - whether conserving, restoring or renovating - should serve the preservation of the monument and its historic fabric; in other words, serve the preservation of the original in the form in which it has come down to us, with its various layers and with its outstanding as well as its seemingly secondary or insignificant components.
Under the heading "Aim" article 3 of the Venice Charter summarizes briefly: "The intention in conserving and restoring monuments is to safeguard them no less as works of art than as historical evidence."
From this basic objective it becomes clear that in certain cases only conservation and safeguarding are acceptable; restoration or renovation would be possible or desirable
only under certain preconditions, or perhaps must be strictly rejected.
Whereas formerly the terms conservation, restoration and renovation were used primarily in connection with works of painting and sculpture or in the context of "art
monuments" in the field of "classical" preservation, today they describe a wide spectrum of measures in accordance with the modern definition of preservation:
a wooden barn could be "conserved", an old steam locomotive "restored", etc. Whereas the terms maintenance and repair of monuments are oriented
more toward general preservation, replacement of irreparable components and safeguarding, and the term rehabilitation is understood in this context as radical measures with
emphasis on more function-oriented technical repair and modernization, with the terms conservation, restoration and renovation the emphasis lies more on preservation of the
historic fabric of art monuments and on re-establishment of their aesthetic appearance.
To conserve (conservare) means to keep, to preserve. Thus the basic attitude of preservation comes most purely to expression in conservation: to conserve is the supreme preservation principle. Together with stabilization and safeguarding measures, conservation work that protects the fabric of a monument and prevents its further loss should therefore have absolute priority over all other measures. Unfortunately this principle cannot be taken for granted because often parts of a monument are renovated or even reconstructed at great cost while other components of the same building continue to deteriorate without urgently necessary conservation work.
All those measures that serve the preservation of the fabric of a monument are to be counted as conservation work. Conservation includes, for example, consolidation of the
historic fabric of a monument: impregnation of a stone sculpture, injections in the cavities behind a layer of plaster, securing a layer of peeling pigment on a painting or a
polychrome sculpture, strengthening a picture support, etc. For a historic building conservation includes all measures that prevent further decay and preserve the historic fabric.
This can encompass structural strengthening with appropriate auxiliary constructions, or the replacement and completion of components insofar as this prevents their further
deterioration.
In this sense the constant replacement of damaged stones by the cathedral stonemason workshops is a borderline case between conservation and restoration. Moreover, in
addition to traditional to techniques available modern technology must also be used in conservation in certain circumstances to save historic fabric.
Special reference to this is made in article 10 of the Venice Charter: "Where traditional techniques prove inadequate, the consolidation of a monument can be achieved by
the use of any modern technique for conservation and construction, the efficacy of which has been shown by scientific data and proved by experience." Caution with
regard to methods that are not sufficiently proven or tested is always in order, unless the monument in question cannot be saved by any other means. In some cases -
involving, for instance, full impregnation with acrylic resins of a stone figure that is not to be saved any other way - the principle of reversibility must also
be disregarded in conservation.
Rpair measures that go beyond a mere safeguarding of the existing fabric are no longer within the scope of conservation work; for instance the completion of a gap, be it a
crack in a painting or a break in a city wall, is not conservation work unless such fill-ins are necessary for the techniques used in safeguarding. In contrast, the removal of fabric
that endangers a monument can be considered an important conservation measure. This sometimes includes the removal of intruding alterations from modern times, to the extent
that they actually endanger historic fabric (for instance removal of an installation that causes structural damage or of new plastering that contains cement).
The castle ruin, which of course did play a central role in the well-known preservation debates at the turn of the last century, offers the perfect illustration for conservation. Here the monument value also derives from the fragmentary, ruinous state that reminds us of the past, making history present through the "scars of time". Manoeuvering between the idea of reconstruction, which crops up sometimes even today, and the occasionally advocated idea of letting the ruin "perish in beauty" (the latter being an understandable reaction to destruction of the actual historic monument as usually results from the former), the conservation plan must seek the correct path for each individual case: for instance stabilization of the walls according to the preservation principles already described above under the heading repair - but then only stabilization, without falsification of the character of the ruin through unnecessary additions. Even the removal of plant growth, seemingly self-evident as an initial conservation measure, must be carefully considered; although the growth endangers the fabric it contributes very critically to the "picturesque" character of the monument. In cases of definitive, otherwise inevitable ruin of an important building component - such as the fresco fragments in the remains of a castle chapel - a roofing-over can be an unavoidable conservation measure, even if it actually contradicts the nature of the ruin. In this context we can understand the covering over carefully conserved wall remnants and the paved floor of a Roman bath, which would be completely destroyed within a few years without a protective roof. In the case of castle ruins, certain wall remnants and findings are and will remain best conserved under the earth, better preserved than if they are subjected to the amateur excavations that unfortunately are so popular at such sites and that, without supervision, only irrevocably destroy their findings.
As not only the example of the castle ruin makes clear, to conserve means to preserve the monument even in a fragmentary state: the fragments of a fresco, a sculpture, a vase
or an epitaph are all objects whose historic state should not be "falsified" through additions in the sense of a restoration or renovation.
In other words, for certain categories of monuments conservation is the first and only measure! It is obvious for several reasons that this particularly applies to monuments that
are to be seen in a museum-like context. In contrast an inhabited old town cannot be preserved as a historic district using conservation measures exclusively. The
"use-value" of many types of monuments demands repair or careful rehabilitation that goes beyond conservation work and thus also involves additional
preservation methods which certainly include restoration and perhaps also renovation work. However, conservation always is and will remain the starting point for all
deliberations in the field of preservation.
To restore (restaurare) means to re-establish; in the following it is not to be defined as a term meaning major preservation work in general, as is often customary, but rather
as a measure that is to be differentiated from conservation and safeguarding as well as from renovation. The Venice Charter says the aim of restoration is "to preserve
and reveal the aesthetic and historic value of the monument and is based on respect for original material and authentic documents." Thus it should go beyond
merely "preserving", or conserving, work to "reveal" aesthetic and historic values; or in other words to accentuate values of a monument that are
hidden (for whatever reason), disfigured or impaired: to "re-establish" them. Whereas conservation of the existing fabric of a monument only attempts, as far as
is necessary, to stabilize individual areas technically and to eliminate sources of danger that directly threaten the fabric, restoration is concerned with the overall appearance
of the monument as historical and artistic evidence.
Following upon the stabilization and conservation of the original fabric, a restoration adds new elements, without reducing the original fabric. Because a gap in a painting,
for instance, can severely impair the overall aesthetic effect, far beyond the very restricted area of the actual damage (which may itself be relatively minor), an effort is made
to close the gap by means of retouching. The many possibilities for restoration, which must be carefully weighed in each individual case, range here from a neutral "
adjustment" in a painting to a detailed replacement of missing elements, as would be undertaken for gaps in decorative plasterwork or for certain architectural sculpture.
The bay that has collapsed because of structural damage in an otherwise intact Renaissance palace, for instance, would hardly be conserved according to the solutions applied
to a castle ruin, but rather, because of the overall aesthetic effect, would be restored to accord with the adjoining bays.
A restoration can also go beyond the harmonizing or filling-in of gaps, to undo disfigurements from previous restorations. We must always be conscious of the danger that a
new restoration can also interpret certain aesthetic and historical values in a biased manner or can even falsify, thus perhaps "disfiguring" the monument just as
did an earlier restoration, the mistakes of which occasion the new interventions.
A restoration can also once again reveal a monument that has been completely hidden, such as a classical temple beneath later construction or a medieval fresco under layers
of later interior decorations.
With the re-exposure of a particular layer - such as a painting that is not visible but might in fact be extremely well conserved underneath several layers of lime - a critical
question must always be addressed: what is the goal of the restoration of a monument that, as so often is the case, is composed of very different historical layers? As traces of
its age and evidence of its history, all of these layers are valid parts of the monument. If we imagine that overtop the (to be exposed?) medieval painting there is a
Baroque painting as well as one from the 19th century, that the (to be exposed?) original polychromy on a Romanesque crucifix has no less than eight subsequent polychrome
schemes over top it, that the (to be exposed?) Roman temple is integrated into a Byzantine church complex, then the problems inherent in all restoration work become
clear. These issues become particularly difficult if, as is frequently the case, a restoration is based on an uncompromising orientation toward a genuine or supposed "original
state" to which later historic layers are to be sacrificed without hesitation. In fact, after consideration of the results of detailed preliminary investigations, we can only
proceed with the greatest caution in accordance with article 11 of the Venice Charter, which clearly dismisses the restoration practices of the 19th century that aimed at a "unity
of style": "The valid contributions of all periods to the building of a monument must be respected, since unity of style is not the aim of a restoration.
When a building includes the superimposed work of different periods, the revealing of the underlying state can only be justified in exceptional circumstances and when what is
removed is of little interest and the material which is brought to light is of great historical, archaeological or aesthetic value, and its state of preservation good enough to justify the
action."
Extreme care is thus required; the goal of a restoration cannot be coordinated with a particular "historic state" if other "historic states" will thus
be destroyed. On principle, the existing fabric, which has evolved over time, should be respected initially as the historic state. Only after thorough analysis will the removal
of insignificant work to the advantage of materials of "great historical, archaeological or aesthetic value" appear to be warranted. Moreover, as important as an
earlier state may be in comparison to later changes, it must also be so well preserved that "its state of preservation (is) good enough to justify the action." The
few particles of pigment that perhaps remain from the Romanesque polychromy on a wood sculpture no more justify the removal of a fully preserved Baroque paint scheme than
the remains of a medieval ashlar stone wall justify demolition of an entire building that has evolved over the following centuries.
In a restoration project, preservation practice must also consider in particular the function of a monument and its relation to its surroundings, so that the components of a large monument complex - for example a monastery church with its decorative features - will not be "restored asunder". In a museum there might be good reason to re-expose the 15th century polychrome scheme on a late Gothic figure of the Virgin, removing later additions to ultimately conserve its fragmentary state; but the same figure located on a Baroque altar as a devotional image must of course retain its Baroque polychromy. An altar from the 17th century in a space that was uniformly redecorated in the mid-18th century would not be re-exposed to its initial paint scheme but rather to the second or third version, the one which harmonizes with the overall space. Even a restoration measure that seems extremely simple and self-evident, such as removal and renewal of a yellowing layer of varnish in order to recover the aesthetic effect of an old painting or of marbling, must be questioned if by giving up the "age-value" of the varnish layer the relationship to other components of the work or to the remaining features of the monument is altered in the sense of "restoring asunder".
Given the diverse layers of a monument and the varying goals and prerequisites for a restoration project, excesses occasionally arise from a so-called "analytical restoration", which attempts to simultaneously preserve and exhibit all the historic states of a monument, as least in part. The Baroque facade of a palace on which painted architectural decoration from the Renaissance, deep medieval wall openings, remains of a re-exposed late Gothic painting, and remnants of Roman ashlar have all been made visible on a single bay becomes a mere preserved "specimen"; the same is true of a sculpture on which individual parts have been restored to different historic periods. As important and necessary as methodically sound preliminary investigations and documentation of previous historic states are, in order to understand the essential character of a monument and to guide the interventions a restoration plan has to be oriented to the - evolved - historic and aesthetic whole of the monument. The safeguarding of evidence is necessary but the search for these traces cannot become an end in itself, determining the goal of a restoration. Moreover, earlier historic situations can also be reconstructed on paper for scholarly publication. Regarding late Gothic fragments in a Baroque church interior, for example, there would be good reason to advise that they not be restored but rather covered up again, following conservation if necessary, in order not to endanger the aesthetic and historic whole of the monument. A "window to the past", based on what emerges in the course of a restoration, is only possible if it can be disposed in an inconspicuous place so that there is no negative impact of the kind discussed above. In general there must be a warning against the exaggerations of "analytical preservation", which represents a special kind of "restoring asunder".
This applies of course not only to individual restoration projects and to monuments with extensive decorative components but equally to restoration work within a historic district. The re-exposure of (originally visible) half-timbering can represent successful restoration work when considered alone, but in the context of a square with only Baroque buildings or Baroque transformations of houses that are medieval in core, this intervention must be rejected as a disfigurement and disturbance of the square as a historic ensemble. Likewise we must reject the idea of restoring a streetscape that was transformed in the 19th century back to its medieval "original state"; monuments are not infrequently destroyed through such massive interventions based on an unprofessional understanding of restoration.
Whereas "analytical restoration", a sort of "specimen preparation" of historic states which is with good reason hardly practiced anymore today, adversely effects the coherent overall appearance of a monument and leads to loss of fabric in specific areas, the idea of "restoring back" to a single historic state, a concept that is always turning up anew, implies removal of entire layers of a monument. A constant conflict with the supreme dictate of preservation, the conserving and preserving of historic fabric, is pre-programmed, as is conflict with the restoration principle, already cited above in article 11 of the Venice Charter, of accepting the existing state and only re-establishing a particular earlier state in well-justified, exceptional cases.
Finally, attention should still be given to the general connection between every restoration project and the principles already described for the repair and conservation of
monuments. Conservation concerns must take priority, also in the difficult questions regarding the objective of a restoration project. Furthermore, in general a restoration is
only appropriate if the necessary measures for stabilization and conservation are executed beforehand or at the same time.
The principles already formulated regarding general repair - limitation to the necessary and reversibility - are also valid for restorations. However, since the removal of
even an insignificant historic layer, permitted after thorough consideration, represents an irreversible intervention, in such cases a special measure of responsibility for the
welfare of the monument is required. In article 11 the Venice Charter therefore demands the participation of several specialists to weigh all the possibilities: "Evaluation
of the importance of the elements involved and the decision as to what may be destroyed cannot rest solely on the individual in charge of the work."
A restoration that makes an effort to close and fill gaps that impair a monument′s overall appearance can also be linked to the principle of repair using historic materials and techniques, already discussed under the general heading of repair. This applies particularly to the preservation of historic buildings, whereas with individual works of art restorative completions must sometimes be executed in a different technique which can guarantee its own damage-free removal, based on the principle of reversibility. Of course, as with conservation work, not only the traditional but also the most modern restoration techniques (which cannot be covered individually here) must be employed "where traditional techniques prove inadequate", as the Venice Charter says in article 10.
To renovate (renovare) means to renew, and together with conservation and restoration it is a third widespread method for repair in preservation, although it is not mentioned specifically in the Venice Charter. Renovation aims particularly at achieving aesthetic unity in a monument in the sense of "making new again" (the outer appearance, the visible surface of a monument, etc.) whereas "making visible again" by means of conservation work, cleaning or re-exposure in combination with completions still belongs in the realm of restoration.
The same conflicts concerning goals arise with the renovation of a monument which has multiple historical layers as have already been discussed in the context of restoration. Here, too, article 11 of the Venice Charter applies: renovation measures must accept in principle the evolved state of a monument with all its superimposed historic layers; no layer may be sacrificed to the aesthetic unity that is the goal of the renovation unless there is justification based on detailed investigations that carefully weigh the gains and losses.
Considering the priority of conservation - as the supreme principle that applies to all efforts in the field of preservation - and the principle of limitation to the necessary that is universally valid for the repair of monuments, it could perhaps be argued that conservation is always necessary, restoration is justifiable under certain conditions, but renovation, meaning as it does to renew and therefore to destroy, is not compatible with preservation′s basic demands. Thus in place of Dehio′s phrase "conserve, do not restore" do we rather have "conserve, restore where necessary, do not renovate"?
In practice historic fabric is in fact being destroyed even now to a shocking degree in the name of "renovation" and also in the course of many "restorations". The great danger with all renovation work lies in the fact that it is preceded by at least a thorough "cleaning" of the surface of the monument: complete removal and renewal of plaster; scraping off of earlier polychrome layers on an old altar in order to be able to renovate it "according to findings" or freely "according to the taste" of the authorities; stripping the layers off a figure and thereby destroying an essential part of the artistic and historical statement of a work of art; even total reworking of a weathered wooden or stone sculpture through "re-carving" until the object is falsified and devalued beyond recognition. Similarly, the sanding of a gravestone or a stone portal down to an undamaged, "healthy" layer is equivalent to the replacement of the original surface with a modern surface. These are all irreversible losses that remind us that the general principle of reversibility must be valid for renovation measures as well. In this context reference can also be made to the danger of renovation using inappropriate materials; dispersion paints, for example, have caused devastating damages on plaster or stucco facades or on stone surfaces.
In order to avoid such damages, the basic demand for historic materials worked in appropriate techniques - already established for preservation repairs in general - must be
met in renovation work in particular. Here is the opportunity to practice, learn and pass down traditional technologies and the handling of traditional materials. Renovation
is seen in contrast here to the complicated field of conservation and restoration which, as already described, cannot dispense with modern restoration techniques and
newly developed resources.
Furthermore in the case of renovation work repeated in ever-shorter intervals - think of a parish church being renovated already for the third time since the 1950s - even
well-meant and technically correct measures represent a significant danger to a monument′s fabric if only because of the preparatory cleaning that affects the original
fabric and the erection of scaffolding that can so easily lead to damage.
In spite of the indisputable dangers suggested here, a renovation project which pays heed to the principles of conservation can indeed be considered a preservation measure. Even if we constantly remind ourselves that the new layer resulting from a renovation cannot be a fully valid stand-in for the old fabric beneath it, with its special "age-value", in preservation practice there are indeed certain areas in which renovation is the only way possible to preserve the historic and artistic appearance of a monument and to conserve the original layers below. A renovation measure is thus justified if it has a conserving effect itself or if conservation measures prove to be unfeasible. However, as with conservation and restoration, such a renovation must be understood as being "in service to the original", which should not be impaired in its effect and should be protected from further danger.
In order to preserve a monument severely worn, weathered or even soiled components may have to be renovated. In a church, for example, a new coat of lime paint
could be applied over an older one that has been badly soiled by the modern heating system, without thus excluding the cleaning and conservation-oriented handling of an
old coat of lime paint at a later point in time. This approach is often valid for the exterior of a building where worn and weathered original plaster and paint layers can only
be preserved under a new and simultaneously protective coat; the new coat can be executed as a reconstruction of a historic scheme, as documented by investigative findings.
Finally there are cases in which old plaster is so badly damaged by weathering and environmental pollutants that it can no longer be preserved with conservation measures
and must be renewed. In this situation the painted decorative articulation on the exterior, only traces of which could still be detected, can be renovated - that is repeated -
by means of a new coat of paint based on the investigative findings: the only possible way to pass on the monument′s aesthetic appearance. As in the case of a
restoration, of course very different possibilities can emerge from the investigative findings covering various layers. Should the plan for the exterior renovation based on these
findings repeat the architectural paint scheme from the Renaissance, from the Baroque or from the Neo-Classical period, or should it take up the uniform ocher facade
from the 19th century? Whether this involves a palace facade or the plain facade of a townhouse in the historic district of an old town, this decision can only be reached
within the framework of the overall preservation plan after thorough analysis of the findings and the history of the building and in coordination with its surroundings.
Whereas the exterior renovation of a historic building has to be coordinated with its surroundings, an interior renovation must take into consideration the historic, aged
surfaces of surviving elements, especially the "age-value" of all the decorative features; for instance the variable intensity of renovated painted interior
surfaces must be of concern. As already suggested, the protective effect that a renovation measure can have must also be taken into account. Thus renovation
as protection is a valid aim even in cases in which it conceals the "age-value" or an intermediate state that, from an aesthetic or historic
standpoint, is worthy of preservation. An example is offered by new plaster on a Romanesque church tower to protect weathering stone; although findings of minimal
remnants may provide proof that there was indeed plastering in previous centuries, the new plaster replaces - in fact, disposes of - the "picturesque" and
simultaneously "legitimate" version of the tower with its exposed medieval masonry, as it had appeared since the 19th century. The renovation of
an outdoor sculpture of stone or wood by applying a new polychrome scheme based on investigative findings or in analogy to similar painted figures can also combine a
change in the aesthetic appearance with a protective function.
It is no doubt self-evident that a renovation is out of the question for certain categories of monuments because only conservation and restoration work according to the above-mentioned principles are within acceptable limits. Renovation must be rejected as a legitimate method for a great number of "art monuments" in particular, objects which in general can only be conserved or under some circumstances restored but which should not be renovated. These include paintings and sculptures or examples of arts and crafts work; the chalice in a church vestry would, for example, be impaired in its historic value by a complete regilding, an approach we would classify as renovation. This applies also to archaeological monuments and to fragments, which may be conserved and, as far as appropriate and necessary, restored; but a total "renovation" of these objects would destroy their character as evidence. The widely propagated methods of renovation are acceptable in preservation practice only if original fabric is no longer technically conservable and must be replaced or if old fabric can no longer be exposed to the effects of environment and use and must be covered over for protection. In both situations renovation work should be justified and supported by preservation-oriented preliminary investigations and by a preservation plan.
In the case of historic buildings, renovation work can also be appropriate in particular locations, for example in parts of a monument where there is no longer historic fabric to be protected because of previous extensive alterations, so that compatibility with the remaining monument fabric is the only point that must be heeded, or where preservation concerns for retaining historic fabric could not be made to prevail over other interests.
To conclude this attempt to differentiate between conservation, restoration and renovation work, it must be emphasized that a graduated system of preservation repair measures exists; in other words, there are monuments that under certain circumstances should only be conserved but not restored, or that may be conserved and restored but never renovated. Furthermore, conservation, restoration and renovation measures are interconnected, so that, according to the circumstances, they may be carried out one after the other or simultaneously. The gilding of a plastered concave molding in an interior space can serve as an example. For the well-preserved components mere conservation is enough; in some places small gaps must be filled in and certain pieces "polished up" in order to more or less attain the overall aesthetic appearance of the conserved elements - hence, restoration; on one side of the room the gilding, severely damaged and to a large extent lost because of water penetration, must be renewed according to traditional gold leafing techniques - hence, renovation. In other cases renovation can even be considered a conservation measure, at least to a certain degree: for instance, partial re-exposure of one or more historic paint schemes within the framework of investigative analyses, consolidation (i. e., conservation) of the lathing, and complete renovation over an intermediate layer of one of the schemes. Underneath the new plaster all the historical layers remain better conserved (at least in the case of an exterior façade) than they would be if subjected to complete re-exposure, which is always combined with losses, and to subsequent conservation and restoration of the original fabric and the concomitant exposure to dangers of weathering.
Table of contents ↑III. Replacement and Completion of Components
If it is no longer possible to meet the basic demand for repair, preservation work on a monument can require the replacement or completion of components according to the original forms and materials, as already discussed. Conservation, restoration and renovation measures, considered here as methods of repair, give rise to different responses to the issue of completion and replacement: where only conservation of existing historic fabric is involved, there is no need for replacements except in special cases; restoration on the other hand includes the closing of gaps and a certain degree of replacement, as would also be required under certain circumstances for a renovation.
Regarding the exchange or replacement of elements, article 12 of the Venice Charter maintains that "Replacements of missing parts must integrate harmoniously with the whole, but at the same time must be distinguishable from the original so that restoration does not falsify the artistic or historic evidence." In this context it must be pointed out that certain monuments are documents of history precisely in the fragmentary state in which they are passed down to us. The fragment of a gravestone, the torso of a figure, the remnant of a wall painting, the remains of a city wall or the castle ruin: these are only to be conserved and not - or only to a very limited extent - to be restored; replacements cannot be made without danger of falsification or impairment of their monument character.
This is also particularly valid for small and even minimal replacements which are often completely unnecessary; arising only from an exaggerated urge for perfection, they needlessly destroy the "age-value" of a monument. An example would be the completely unnecessary "clearing up" of all minor damages in an ashlar stone facade using an artificial stone material, whereas the closing of a dangerous joint or a hole can indeed be necessary in order to avoid future major replacement of original materials. It is important to guard against excessive replacement on both a large and a small scale.
On the other hand, historic buildings, especially if they are in use, sometimes practically require repair work that involves considerable replacement. This is especially true for
the large number of monuments that are used for residential purposes or as public buildings. The bay of an arcaded courtyard that has collapsed because of structural damages
must be replaced; damaged building surfaces must be replaced, sometimes already for reasons of hygiene. The lost head of a statue of Nepomuk, saint of bridges, must be
replaced if the figure is to fulfill its function in an understandable manner. In general an element of reserve must be maintained regarding replacements because the historic
fabric should still "dominate" and should "carry" the added fabric, so that a monument does not appear more new than old. Moreover, the
individuality and the artistic quality of a monument are of critical importance in the issue of replacement; in some circumstances they prohibit any replacement work other than a
neutral retouching without which the overall appearance would be impaired. On the other hand, the original artistic plan sometimes makes completion of missing elements
necessary, such as the filling in of a gap in a Baroque stucco ceiling, or closure according to the original design of the ground floor zone of a Neo-Renaissance facade which
has been disfigured by the addition of storefronts, etc.
In principle a monument that has evolved over various epochs will be less in need of replacement than a Gesamtkunstwerk that was created according to a single coherent plan
and that is unchanged in its appearance (such as a Rococo church), where every gap is just as disturbing as the gap in a painting. Finally, the filling in of a gap immediately
after its badly felt loss is more compelling than the sometimes dubious practice of replacing details that have already been lost for decades or even centuries.
The arguments for and against replacement, dependent on various artistic, historic and also functional factors, can only be clarified after being given careful consideration in
the preservation plan that is worked out for a specific case. The "how" of replacements, ranging from neutral retouching in a restoration project to partial copying
or partial reconstruction, is of equal concern, raising questions as to whether a replacement should imitate the original or show its own signature, the latter being more or less
perceived as a contrast to the original fabric. In this context the issue of the use of historic or modern materials and techniques also arises.
Reference must be made again to article 12 of the Venice Charter, already quoted above, according to which the replacements "must integrate harmoniously with the whole
but at the same time must be distinguishable from the original", always assuming that the replacement has not already gone so far as to represent a "falsification"
of the original. This applies, for instance, to the various forms of retouching that are necessary for a restoration; according to the significance of the gap for the overall appearance
of the object, completions range from merely a pigmented or neutral "tuning" to a "depiction" that derives from the existing composition but which on
detailed inspection (or at least from close up) always should be recognizable as a replacement. On the other hand the completion should not give the effect of a strong contrast,
which could only further impair the overall appearance of the work of art. In this sense a sculptural group in a park which is so badly damaged that its message is no longer
comprehensible could be treated differentially: the detailed completion of small gaps would be consciously avoided, and only the elements that are important for an understanding
of the monument would be replaced, in a reversible manner. Likewise, with a badly damaged gravestone or wayside shrine the restorer would not replace fragmentarily preserved
ornamental and figural elements which are still comprehensible but rather would complete the outer frame in a neutral manner and would renew (according to the old form) the
cornice and projecting roof that are important as protection against weathering. With architectural fragments - whether remnants of a Roman bath or a medieval ruin - replacements
which may be necessary for purely conservation reasons (such as a new covering) or for structural reasons (filling in of a crack) can also be kept neutral by using a material that
sets itself apart somewhat from the historic fabric (for instance a different brick format or different method of setting stone). Thus the character of the architectural fragment is
not falsified by an "imitation" that feigns another state of preservation or by a modish "contrast".
For completions that are necessary within the framework of normal repair work (as discussed above), the principle of the use of authentic materials in an appropriate, traditional
manner is applicable, insofar as conservation reasons do not preclude it. The situation is different if new elements are necessary for functional reasons, for instance in the
design of new fittings (modern forms and materials can of course appear next to the old) or the design of modern additions needed to extend the use of a historic building complex.
Perhaps new choir stalls are needed in a church, or an addition must be made to the vestry - for such cases article 13 of the Venice Charter makes special reference to the caution
and respect that must be shown for the preservation of existing fabric: "Additions cannot be allowed except in so far as they do not detract from the interesting parts
of the building, its traditional setting, the balance of its composition and its relation with its surroundings."
Furthermore, the "how" of replacements depends critically on the design and condition of the part to be completed as well as on our knowledge of the earlier
situation. If a severely damaged, no longer repairable component is replaced, or an interrupted profile is filled in, or a volute gable that is only half preserved is completed, or
the missing piece of a symmetrically designed stucco ceiling is replaced - then a replacement that copies the original is possible and for the most part even necessary. The
appearance of the part that is to be replaced can be reconstructed using exact graphic or photographic materials that show its previous state. However, if there is no
detailed knowledge of a component that has perhaps been missing for a long time, either no replacement should be attempted at all, or, as with retouching, the original should
be replaced "neutrally" in the manner discussed above. With figural decoration, such as figures missing from a gable, even if there is some knowledge of the no
longer extant predecessors this is perhaps the opportunity for modern sculpture, adapted of course to the surrounding context of the lost work. Similarly a modern glass
painting can complete a historical series, closing with contemporary means an important gap in the overall lighting scheme of a church.
Finally there are categories of monuments, particularly certain industrial monuments which are still in use, for which components must be exchanged continually in their original
form and original materials. An example would be the scoop wheels on the Pegnitz River which go back to the 18th century; they must be taken down every winter and
erected anew every spring. A special form of continuous replacement, which could also be understood as continuous repair, involves the replacement of stones by the stonemason
workshops of cathedrals, already mentioned above in the context of conservation and restoration. This involves the exchange of damaged elements, from crumbling ashlar
to artistically designed components such as tracery and pinnacles, work that has been oriented over centuries to the form, materials and craftsmanship of the existing historic
fabric. Recently on some such monuments less detailed or consciously more "coarse" work has been carried out; only on close observation is this perceived
as a "modern" development.
Although in the end this constant exchange can approach a total renewal of the original stone materials, as a stonemason′s tradition that has continued unbroken for centuries
it is to be considered a necessary process which falls in between maintenance and repair. The procedure is more a routine safeguarding or restoration of the monument than it
is a renovation, since the surface of a building is never totally reworked, even in larger sections. Such partial exchanges require not only traditional craft techniques but also as
far as possible the use of material from the original stone quarry, or at least of a comparable stone with similar properties if the original is no longer available or is not resistant
enough to environmental pollutants (and would therefore require another renewal after an unacceptably short interval). The use of artificial stone would be rejected in this context
in accordance with the principle of using authentic materials.
Even with replacements that are correct in themselves in terms of craftsmanship, according to the principle of limitation to the necessary only deteriorated stones should be
exchanged, whereas harmless small damages should not be repaired because of their "age-value", to say nothing of the fact that such damages would not justify
replacement of the original; this applies to cathedrals, to ashlar facades, or even to individual gravestones. The process of examining the stonework must also be seen in
this context; it is a procedure that is often overlooked or not executed thoroughly enough by the cathedral stonemasons precisely because replacement work is a traditional
matter of course in their craft. The goal of this examination must be preservation in situ, using conservation methods exclusively, particularly of richly designed components
such as profiles, tracery, pinnacles, sculptural elements with their individual artistic signature or components with a key function in terms of a building′s construction history.
Thus the stonework would be preserved without any reworking that destroys not only the surface but also any surviving stonemason symbols and the traces of age that are
caused by minor damages and weathering. An appropriate plan for safeguarding the stones must be developed on the basis of detailed preservation-oriented preliminary
investigations.
In some cases such a study might show that figural elements on the exterior are already severely damaged and can only be saved from further deterioration through the production of replicas by the stonemasons and the transferral of the originals to the interior of the church or their deposition in a secure place, preferably in the context of a museum-like presentation.
Table of contents ↑IV. The Replica as a Means of Saving a Monument
Replicating - i. e., making a copy of an existing original or of another replica - has a long tradition in art history, as illustrated by the "multiplication" of a famous pilgrimage painting or statue through countless small copies. But replication can only be considered a preservation measure if the copy is made in order to protect an existing original: the replica as a means of saving a monument. We must always remain conscious of the uniqueness of the original because, no matter how faithful in form, material and scale, a replica is always a new object and merely a likeness of the original with its irreplaceable historical and artistic dimension.
Production of a replica to replace an original, already referred to in the context of facade sculpture, can make it possible to remove and protect a work of art that can no longer
be preserved on its original location, without thereby disrupting the meaning of a superordinate pictorial program of which it is a part; well-known examples include the
sculptures personifying the Church and the Synagogue on the cathedral of Strasbourg. To a certain degree such a replica can be understood as a partial replacement, a
completion that serves preservation of the whole. This can also be a valid approach for sculptures in a park, each of which is an essential element, in its particular
location, of an overall artistic concept; if leaving them exposed to continued negative environmental influences is no longer justifiable, the originals can be replaced by replicas
while they themselves are given the protection provided by a museum-like environment. Depending on the individual case, a combination of measures may be sensible: replication
of endangered components of a whole, or the completion and conservation of originals that are already so badly damaged or that have been so severely altered during earlier
restorations that their non-reversible state of deterioration would make exhibition in a museum pointless. Given the abundance of affected monuments - just among stone
sculptures, for example - it must be emphasized that this approach nonetheless has narrow applications: even if appropriate storage places are available, the deposited
originals must undergo conservation treatment so that the decay does not continue, an aspect that is often overlooked. And which museums or depots should accept the
stained glass from a cathedral that has been replaced by copies? With the exception of a few special cases, such windows should be saved and restored on their original
location by means of suitable protective glasswork.
The testimonies in stone that characterize our cultural landscapes - the numerous wayside shrines, stations of the cross, road markers, boundary stones, etc. - must be
preserved in situ as long as possible using stone conservation treatments, even if we know these techniques are inadequate; if necessary they must be repaired by
restorers. In these cases only the threat of total, non-stoppable loss can justify replacement of the original with a replica.
A further issue is the extent to which a replica should duplicate the original in materials and technique: in each individual case careful consideration must be given as to
whether the best solution calls for a handcrafted or sculpted copy in the original materials or for one of the modern casting techniques, some of which are very highly
developed; of course a prerequisite for the latter is that no damage be done to the original during the process.
Apart from the examples mentioned here, the possibilities for saving a monument by bringing it into a protected space are very limited because normally a historic building
cannot be moved, nor can it be replaced by a replica. However, there are exceptions involving the endangerment of significant monuments by modern mass tourism. The paintings
in the caves of Lascaux, unchanged over thousands of years, became threatened by the climatic fluctuations caused by visitors. Closure of the cave and construction of an
accurately scaled replica nearby, which has enjoyed acceptance by tourists, has saved the original paintings. Another successful example is the "tourist′s
copy" of the famous Thracian grave of Kasanlyk in Bulgaria. This approach could serve as a model for other objects that are afflicted by mass tourism.
V. Relocation of Monuments
Finally, we come to the relocation of historic buildings through dismantling and rebuilding. In rare cases relocation can be possible technically without dismantling and rebuilding, for instance with small structures such as a log corn crib which can be transported with a crane or a masonry garden pavilion which can be moved by inserting a plate underneath it. But with every relocation the critical relationship of the monument to its environment and surroundings is lost, together with that part of the building′s historic message which relates to its particular location. In this context article 7 of the Venice Charter can also to be applied to relocations: "A monument is inseparable from the history to which it bears witness and from the setting in which it occurs. The moving of all or part of a monument cannot be allowed except where the safeguarding of that monument demands it or where it is justified by national or international interests of paramount importance." Thus from a preservation standpoint relocation is only admissible if the monument can no longer be preserved at its original location, if it cannot be protected in any other manner, and if its demolition cannot be prevented. This situation becomes relevant not only in such cases as the removal of buildings for brown coal mining or the flooding of a village for a man-made lake, but also for the approval of a new building on the site of an existing monument, regardless of why the permission was granted. However, there is some danger that the mere possibility of the relocation of a monument to the next open-air museum will be taken as an excuse for the sought-after demolition. It is mostly rural houses and farm buildings that are relocated, not only for open-air museums but also out of private interests. The first requirement in such cases is to ensure that the historic building, though removed from its original surroundings, is at least re-erected in a comparable topographical situation. Moreover, if at all possible the translocated building should at least remain in a region having the same rural architecture, in order not to further confuse our cultural landscapes, which are becoming increasingly indistinguishable. In general relocation to a site that is as close as possible to the original location and as similar as possible to the original landscape situation is to be preferred.
Ultimately, the crucial requirement for a relocation is that the historic building can in fact be moved, i. e., that the original fabric (or at least the majority of the most essential components) can be relocated. Thus for purely technical reasons genuine relocations generally involve wooden buildings, in particular building types that were relocated at times in past centuries as well. The nature of their construction makes log buildings particularly suited for dismantling, transport and reconstruction. Under certain conditions buildings of cut stone can be relocated, stone for stone and course for course. In contrast the relocation of most other massive buildings is usually pointless, since a plastered rubblework wall can at best be rebuilt using parts of the original material. The same principles that apply for the repair of other historic buildings - regarding the use of authentic materials, techniques of craftsmanship and conservation treatments - are also valid for the repairs and completions that are inevitably necessary on a relocated building. Scientific documentation and recording of the original condition of a building are essential requirements for correct dismantling and rebuilding.
Table of contents ↑VI. Reconstruction and Rebuilding
Although reconstruction actually means rebuilding, the two terms are not used in exactly the same way: rebuilding refers more to the re-establishment of structures that have been destroyed by accident, by natural catastrophe such as an earthquake, or by the events of war; in general the destruction usually took place in the recent past. The term "rebuilding" does not include the necessity to approximate the appearance of the lost original. Reconstruction, by comparison, denotes the re-establishment of a lost original on the basis of pictorial, written or material evidence. The replica, in contrast to the reconstruction, duplicates an original that still exists. Partial reconstruction as a preservation procedure - for instance the rebuilding of a gable - has already been discussed under the topic of completions and replacements.
The preservationist′s skepticism regarding any form of reconstruction is based first of all on the knowledge that history is not reversible: in certain circumstances a fragmentary state offers the only valid, unfalsified artistic statement. Indeed even a totally destroyed monument is evidence of history, evidence that would be lost in a "reconstruction" just as some castle ruins fell victim to "re-building in the old style" in the nineteenth century. Where such traces of history must be conserved, reconstruction is totally out of place. Furthermore, the monument that could be restored or renovated, or perhaps stabilized and repaired, must not be demolished and recreated as a reconstruction "more beautiful than before." But precisely this approach is being proposed daily to preservationists. Thus their negative attitude to reconstruction is based on recognition of a genuine danger to our stock of historic buildings today, rather than merely on an aversion (found in preservation theory since the turn of the century) to 19th century "restoration" work and the disastrous damage it caused to original historic fabric, particularly on medieval monuments, through reconstruction trends based more or less on "scientific" hypotheses, à la Viollet-le-Duc.
A reconstruction that does not replace a lost monument but rather justifies and facilitates demolition of an existing monument is in fact a deadly danger for our stock of historic buildings. As far as "art objects" are concerned, it is the undisputed opinion of the public that a reconstruction cannot replace the original, but there is need of intensive public relations work to convince this same public that an object that is in use, such as Baroque church pews, similarly cannot be replaced by a replica; this lack of understanding often also applies to a house that is on a list of protected buildings. Thus, because of imagined or actual constraints on their use, houses and commercial buildings in particular are threatened by demands for total renewal instead of repair, for demolition and reconstruction "in the old form" - preferably then of course with a basement that never existed or with that inevitable underground garage. In this context the concept of "reconstruction" generally anyway refers only to the exterior, whereas the interior is reorganized and floor levels revised so that the "reconstructed" facade must be "lifted" because of an additional story. What remains of the monument are perhaps a few building elements taken up in the new structure as a "compromise": a stone with a coat of arms, an arcade, etc.
A reconstruction on the site of an existing monument, necessitating removal of the original monument, can thus be ruled out as a preservation solution. A modification of this approach - dismantlement and re-building using the existing materials - also almost always leads to critical losses, although it is technically conceivable with building elements of cut stone or wood that are not plastered and have no fill materials. Log buildings can usually survive such a procedure with limited loss, if the work is done with care and expertise. With buildings of cut stone, the joints and the connections to other building components are lost; the loss of context is anyway a problem with every reconstruction that incorporates existing elements. Buildings with in-fillings or plastering, conglomerate structures, massive masonry, etc. usually forfeit the greater part of their historic fabric in such a project. Thus a reconstruction using existing material, through dismantlement and reassembly, can be successful only with very few objects. Prerequisites are preservation-oriented preliminary investigations and an endangerment to the existing object which cannot be countered by any other means.
Despite the dangers suggested, under certain conditions reconstruction can be considered a legitimate preservation method, as are conservation, restoration and renovation. In a preservation context reconstruction generally is related to the re-establishment of a state that has been lost (for whatever reason), based on pictorial, written or material sources; it can range from completion of elements or partial reconstruction to total reconstruction with or without incorporation of existing fragments. Within the framework of a renovation project reconstruction of the original paint scheme - for instance re-establishment of a room′s interior decoration or repainting of an exterior according to the findings of color research - can serve the overall aesthetic effect of the monument. The reconstruction of the historic fittings of a building, appropriate only in well-justified situations, can also be seen in this context. Finally, the historic appearance of a building can be reconstructed in designs and models to provide a very useful foundation for deliberations on a restoration project although for good reasons the reconstruction may not be turned into reality.
A necessary prerequisite for either a partial or a total reconstruction is always extensive source documentation on the state that is to be reconstructed; nonetheless, a reconstruction seldom proceeds without some hypotheses. One of the criteria for the inscription of cultural properties in UNESCO′s World Heritage List according to the 1972 Convention is "that reconstruction is only acceptable if it is carried out on the basis of complete and detailed documentation on the original and to no extent to the conjecture". Thus, reconstruction is possible in principle, but it requires a sound scientific basis. The comments in article 9 of the Venice Charter are in a sense also valid for reconstruction: "The process of restoration is a highly specialized operation. It is ... based on respect for original material and authentic documents. It must stop at the point where conjecture begins ..." Reconstruction is by no means expressly forbidden by the Venice Charter, as is often maintained; rather the passage in question in article 15 ("All reconstruction work should however be ruled out a priori. Only anastylosis, that is to say, the reassembling of existing but dismembered parts, can be permitted.") relates exclusively to archaeological excavations (see pp.39-45). However, based on the charter′s highly restrictive overall attitude also in regard to replacements (which according to article 12 should be "distinguishable from the original"), we can conclude that the authors were very skeptical of reconstruction work. There are good reasons for the preference for anastylosis, which indeed can have advantages from a purely conservation-oriented standpoint, although for didactic reasons archaeological preservation work sometimes does involve partial reconstructions for the interpretation and explanation of historic contexts (see pp. 43-44).
The preceding discussion perhaps suggests that, although reconstruction is not "forbidden" - it doesn′t necessarily represent a preservation "sin" - the pros and cons must nonetheless be very carefully weighed. Just as a reconstructed completion that is based on insufficient evidence or questionable hypotheses in fact falsifies a monument, so an unverified "creative reconstruction" cannot really restitute a lost monument, not even formally - and certainly not in its historical dimension. In addition there is often confusion about the materials and the technical, skilled and artistic execution of the lost original. Under some circumstance a reconstruction requires, in addition to a sound scientific basis, execution in the original forms and materials, necessitating appropriate craftsmanship and artistic capabilities; of course any extant historic fabric should be integrated to the greatest extent possible. On principle, reconstructions that involve an original that was unaltered are more easily justified than those attempting to recreate an organic state that evolved over the centuries and thus can hardly be "reproduced".
In special cases a reconstruction may also be conceivable in order to elucidate a fragmentary monument, to re-establish the setting for extant fittings and decorative features or significant building components. In this context the roofing over of a masonry wall or other fragments through reconstruction work can sometimes also have advantages in terms of conservation. In order for preservationists to tolerate this type of approach there must be no loss to the existing historic fabric, for instance through the replacement of original foundations or through other stabilization measures. Finally, a reconstruction may be justified within a historic complex or in a particularly uniform ensemble in which a gap (for whatever reason it has developed) reduces, impairs or disfigures the overall monument. A prominent example is the reconstruction in 1908 of the Campanile of San Marco in Venice, after its sudden collapse, because it was an indispensable element of the historic square.
In this context the principles for rebuilding historic monuments after catastrophes and events of war must also be addressed. Quite independent of preservation considerations, such rebuilding has seldom been a process of totally new beginnings, even in past centuries and millennia. For reasons of economy, a frugal handling of available materials tended to pick up on what already existed; indeed this sometimes led to a "reconstructing" approach. A case in point is the cathedral of Orleans: destroyed by the Huguenots, it was rebuilt throughout the 17th and 18th centuries in Gothic style. Rebuilding has dimensions that mere reconstruction on a so-called scientific-intellectual basis does not have. The rebuilding of totally or partly destroyed historic buildings, in particular of monumental buildings which visually embodied the history of a city or a nation, can be an act of political self-assertion, in a certain sense just as vital for the population as the "roof over one′s head". A prerequisite for rebuilding is of course the will to rebuild on the part of the generation that still feels the hurt of the losses. It is sometimes astonishing how structures that are rebuilt out of this motivation close the gap rendered by the catastrophe and are perceived as historic documents despite the irreplaceable loss of original fabric. This is particularly true if salvaged original fittings legitimize the rebuilding. It is also amazing how a rebuilt monument not only can fulfill its old function, but also can re-occupy the building′s old position in history despite its mostly new fabric, for instance in the case of the Goethe House in Frankfurt.
But only on the historic site of its old foundations can a building also integrate as far as possible the remnants of historic fabric that survived the catastrophe, as well as any salvaged fittings and decorative features. Moreover, the rebuilt structure should represent the state of the historic building before its destruction, if the true intent of the rebuilding is to close the gap and not to embody the break in tradition that the catastrophe has caused. A special situation involves the rebuilding of a structure in accordance with how it looked at an earlier time, as documented by architectural history research, rather than how it appeared before destruction. In this approach the "mistakes", alterations and additions of later periods are purified, and even salvaged fittings may be partly or completely sacrificed to the new plan in order to bring out the "original appearance" of the architecture once again. A process that is similar to restoring a building back to an earlier state, this approach to rebuilding is problematic from a preservation standpoint and only justifiable in exceptional cases.
The history of rebuilding in Europe after the Second World War - with the possibilities ranging from a totally new beginning according to the rules of modern architecture to cases in which reconstruction indeed duplicated the materials and forms of buildings before their destruction - cannot be described further here. Even as we mourn what was lost, as preservationists we must now accept the different alternatives used in rebuilding after the war; indeed we must already look at the results of rebuilding as historic evidence. Even confirmed opponents of any kind of reconstruction must admit that the buildings that were more or less faithfully reconstructed are the ones that have actually proved most successful in the long run; the large complex of the Munich Residenz or the rebuilding of entire urban quarters such as in the badly damaged city of Rothenburg o. d. Tauber come to mind. Of course numerous rebuilt structures are now themselves recorded in monument lists as authentic historic buildings; even if they can never replace the partly or totally lost originals of the pre-war period they are a document for the time of their own construction. In any case we must be grateful to our predecessors for their contributions, often under difficult circumstances, to a reconstruction-oriented rebuilding after the catastrophes of the Second World War. Some of them must have been conscious at the time of the motto "conserve, do not restore", formulated by Dehio during the controversy over the palace in Heidelberg at the turn of the century. This principle, drawn up under quite different conditions by the fathers of the "modern cult of monuments" to oppose the "restoration" approach of the 19th century, must have seemed to them rather absurd, given the historic buildings lying in ruins. It quite simply contradicted what had been the natural reaction over centuries: the wish to re-establish the familiar surroundings after a catastrophe, to put the usable materials together again - thus, to a certain extent, to reconstruct.
This basic human concern was not only valid for rebuilding in the period right after the war, but rather is equally true for rebuilding projects that for various reasons first became possible decades later, as for example the Church of Our Lady in Dresden. Beyond purely preservation aspects, the critical factor is the motivation that is behind the will to rebuild, marking the consciousness of loss; under such circumstances the idea of a time frame in which reconstruction is "still" allowed or "no longer" justifiable - as is sometimes suggested - is not relevant.
Sensible handling of the subject of reconstruction requires a correct understanding of monuments "in the full richness of their authenticity", as it says in the preamble of the Venice Charter. According to the document agreed upon at the Nara conference concerning authenticity of the historic heritage (see pp. 89-90), in the evaluation of a monument not only the oft-evoked historic fabric but also additional factors ranging from authentic form to authentic spirit ("form and design, materials and substance, use and function, traditions and techniques, location and setting, and spirit and feeling, and other internal and external factors") play a role. A dangerous seduction may be concealed in the words "authentic spirit" - could one perhaps also reconstruct in this spirit? The true substance fetishist, with his "materialistic" understanding of the monument, can only confirm a continual loss of authentic fabric, given his perception of history as a one-way street of growth and decay; he can try to conserve the most recent state of a monument up to the bitter end. But the preservationist who, as a sort of lawyer for the historic heritage in a world that is changing as never before, tries to preserve at least a certain degree of continuity by saving historical evidence (and moreover derives a moral authority from this task) must be conscious of all the authentic values of a monument, including a "display" value that may be purely aesthetically motivated or the often neglected "feeling" value that perhaps tends toward reconstructions of a particular form or situation. In conjunction with the deep-felt human concern that arises over rebuilding after catastrophes, there is also always the additional issue of the perceptible presence of the past at the monument site, an issue that involves more than extant or lost historic fabric. In this situation if the preservationist chooses the role of strict "apostle of historic fabric" he will have difficulty making himself understood.
Table of contents ↑VII. Principles of Archaeological Heritage Management
Archaeological monuments are those parts of our historic heritage that are investigated using the methods of archaeology; mostly hidden in the ground, they are an irreplaceable source for thousands of years of human history. Archaeological heritage management is understood here as a "safeguarding of traces", and not as the "treasure-digging" archaeology that was sometimes practiced in the past. A strict differentiation between archaeological and architectural monuments does not always seem appropriate, since archaeological monuments in fact frequently consist of the vestiges of buildings that are hidden under the earth: structures of stone or wood, remnants of walls, colorations in the ground, etc. as well as the remains of their former fittings. Indeed to a certain extent an archaeological excavation can turn an archaeological monument back into an architectural monument, for instance if the remains of a ruin within a castle complex are exposed and subsequently must be conserved. On the other hand many architectural monuments and even urban districts are simultaneously archaeological zones because of the underground remains of predecessor buildings.
Since archaeological monuments of different epochs are hidden beneath the ground or under water, special survey, excavation and documentation methods have been developed to record and investigate them. Survey methods include field inspections and the collection of materials which make it possible to designate archaeological zones (topographical archaeological survey), aerial photography, and the recently developed geophysical survey methods (magnetometry). These survey methods, which do not need to be described here in any more detail, are already tied to the first basic requirement, or principle, in the field of archaeological heritage management: A survey of the archaeological monuments of a country using these methods must be carried out as accurately and comprehensively as possible, independently from the issue of planned or forced excavations. As in all fields of preservation, a survey of the existing stock is a prerequisite for its protection.
Of course the general principles of the Venice Charter, already discussed in the previous sections, are also valid for the particular circumstances of archaeological heritage management. Archaeological monuments and sites should be preserved in situ and as intact as possible; they must be maintained, conserved, and under certain circumstances restored. Article 15 of the Venice Charter deals separately with archaeology: "Excavations should be carried out in accordance with scientific standards and the recommendation defining international principles to be applied in the case of archaeological excavation adopted by UNESCO in 1956. Ruins must be maintained and measures necessary for the permanent conservation and protection of architectural features and of objects discovered must be taken. Furthermore, every means must be taken to facilitate the understanding of the monument and to reveal it without ever distorting its meaning."
According to the above-mentioned Recommendation on International Principles Applicable to Archaeological Excavations, passed by the General Conference of UNESCO in New Delhi on 5 December 1956, the best overall conditions for the protection of the archaeological heritage call for the coordination and central documentation of excavations by the relevant public authority of each country in conjunction with very generous support of international collaboration on excavations; further, unauthorized digs and the illegal export of objects taken from excavation sites should be prevented. Particular value is placed on preservation of the findings from excavations and their retention in central and regional collections and museums in the territory of the excavation, or in collections directly connected to important excavation sites. However, the recommendation from 1956 does not yet emphasize clearly enough that excavated findings, just as fortuitous findings, are always only part of a monument which embodies multifaceted historical relationships; the goal of modern preservation practice as a comprehensive "safeguarding of traces" is to preserve this whole to the greatest extent possible. But the long-antiquated idea of archaeology as mere "treasure digging" even seems to lurk behind the relevant paragraphs in some of our modern monument protection laws.
Another very critical criterion for the practice of modern archaeological heritage management is missing from the recommendations from 1956: the differentiation between excavations carried out for purely scientific interests and the unavoidable emergency or salvage excavations which have become the rule (not only in Germany) because of threats to archaeological monuments on a scale that was barely conceivable in previous decades. It is not only private construction projects that are repeatedly causing destruction of unrecognized archaeological monuments, but also a general "upheaval of land" in the course of public works, gigantic architectural and civil engineering projects, new transportation facilities, and especially intensive agricultural use with its concomitant land erosion. At least in conjunction with preservation projects involving historic buildings efforts can be made to avert interventions in the ground; a typical example would be leaving the "terra sancta" under the floor of a church untouched - ground which is almost always of interest archaeologically but is often endangered by installation of modern heating systems. The most favorable conditions for the undisturbed preservation of archaeological sites are in forests, if unauthorized "treasure-digging" can be successfully prevented, but archaeological reserves can also be established in fields and meadows and then be excluded from intensive agricultural use.
In light of the ubiquitous threats that force a profusion of emergency excavation and salvage operations in many countries - in such numbers that they can hardly be executed according to the strict scientific standards of modern archaeological practice - the Charter for the Protection and Management of the Archaeological Heritage (Charter of Lausanne) was adopted by ICOMOS in 1989 to define comprehensively for the first time the conditions, goals and principles of archaeological preservation. The validity of the supreme principle of conservation - as far as possible monuments are to be preserved intact at their original site - for archaeological monuments as well is emphasized in article 6 in particular: "The overall objective of archaeological heritage management should be the preservation of monuments and sites in situ, including proper long-term conservation and curation of all related records and collections etc. Any transfer of elements of the heritage to new locations represents a violation of the principle of preserving the heritage in its original context. This principle stresses the need for proper maintenance, conservation and management. It also asserts the principle that the archaeological heritage should not be exposed by excavation or left exposed after excavation if provision for its proper maintenance and management after excavation cannot be guaranteed." The latter principle is well worth heeding, considering the zeal - on an international level - with which archaeological sites are laid bare (either out of scientific interest or for the sake of tourism), only to be left exposed to the disastrous effects of tourism without "proper maintenance, conservation and management".
The Charter of Lausanne also clearly differentiates between unavoidable emergency measures precipitated by threats to a site and excavations undertaken for purely scientific reasons; the latter can also serve other purposes such as improvement of the presentation of an archaeological site. According to article 5 "Excavation should be carried out on sites and monuments threatened by development, land-use change, looting or natural deterioration." When an archaeological site is doomed because all possible protective measures have failed or could not be implemented, then of course its excavation must be as thorough and comprehensive as possible. In comparison, excavations for purely scientific purposes of archaeological evidence that is not endangered must be justified in detail; these are explicitly designated as "exceptional cases" in the Charter of Lausanne: "In exceptional cases, unthreatened sites may be excavated to elucidate research problems or to interpret them more effectively for the purpose of presenting them to the public. In such cases excavation must be preceded by thorough scientific evaluation of the significance of the site. Excavation should be partial, leaving a portion undisturbed for future research." Thus interventions in archaeological sites which are not endangered or which can be protected despite endangerment by the available legal resources should be avoided as far as possible, except for special cases in which specific scientific problems are to be explored by excavations that are limited to part of a site or a scientifically and didactically motivated presentation area for visitors is to be developed. The prerequisite for these special-case excavations is always that the exposed site can in fact be conserved and permanently preserved. If the requirements for the continued maintenance of an archaeological site are not met, then such "exposures" can on principle not be justified.
The above-mentioned limitation on excavations of non-endangered archaeological sites to those that can be warranted not only under scientific but also under conservation standpoints should anyway be an outcome of the most reasonable application of limited resources. "Owing to the inevitable limitations of available resources, active maintenance will have to be carried out on a selective basis", according to article 6 of the Charter of Lausanne. Moreover, a crucial reason for exercising the greatest possible restraint is the fact that every excavation means destruction: "As excavation always implies the necessity of making a selection of evidence to be documented and preserved at the cost of losing other information and possibly even the total destruction of the monument, a decision to excavate should only be taken after thorough consideration" (article 5). With excavations that are motivated purely by research interests it is sometimes possible to limit interventions significantly when the objectives can be met without employing the usual horizontal-stratigraphic methods but rather by excavating a narrow field; for instance one sector of a ring wall could yield all the necessary information. In this way the archaeological monument is mostly undisturbed and is preserved in situ, thus remaining available for later investigations with improved scientific methods. The UNESCO recommendation from 1956 had already made a proposal in this spirit: "Each Member State should consider maintaining untouched, partially or totally, a certain number of archaeological sites of different periodes in order that their excavation may benefit from improved techniques and more advanced archaeological knowledge. On each of the larger sites now being excavated, in so far as the nature of the land permits, well defined "witness"- areas might be left unexcavated in several places in order to allow for eventual verification of the stratigraphy and archaeological composition of the site."
In appropriate cases an attempt should even be made to conserve such stratigraphical cuts in order to present the final phase of a total excavation "forever" in a museum-like manner; in addition to the necessary roofing, this can of course entail substantial conservation problems (consider, for instance, the continued excavations of the famous terracotta army of the first Chinese emperor Qin Shi Huang).
In this context the Charter of Lausanne also refers in article 5 to an important basic principle that must be applied to excavations of non-endangered sites, a principle that moreover encourages the use of non-destructive sampling methods in place of total excavations: "It must be an over-riding principle that the gathering of information about the archaeological heritage should not destroy any more archaeological evidence than is necessary for the protectional or scientific objectives of the investigation. Non-destructive techniques, aerial and ground survey, and sampling should therefore be encouraged wherever possible, in preference to total excavation."
The principles that are valid for preservation in general also apply to the preservation of archaeological sites and artifacts. The often very fragmentary condition of the objects makes it possible to limit work more to conservation instead of restoration or renovation; completions are carried out either sparingly or not at all. Other problems of repair and rehabilitation which arise with architectural monuments, especially in conjunction with modern uses of historic structures, are largely unimportant in archaeological heritage management. When the completion of an authentic fragment appears to be appropriate, the work should be distinguishable, for instance by means of a dividing joint or layer or by a different format in the brick. Additional layers of masonry, for instance to make the ground plan of an early medieval church visible once again, can also serve as protection for the original foundations that were discovered through excavation; however they should not replace the originals. In fact some excavation sites with their neglected, gradually disintegrating remnants of walls would indeed be much better off if they were concealed once again under a protective layer of earth.
Archaeological monuments are often presented to the visitor as "visible history" with the help of partial or total reconstructions, a legitimate approach as long as history is not falsified and the original remnants - the actual monument - are not removed. Indeed in some circumstances reconstructions, which always should remain recognizable as such, can be erected at another location so that they do not endanger the existing original materials. In this context article 7 of the Charter of Lausanne states "Reconstructions serve two important functions: experimental research and interpretation. They should, however, be carried out with great caution, so as to avoid disturbing any surviving archaeological evidence, and they should take account of evidence from all sources in order to achieve authenticity. Where possible and appropriate, reconstructions should not be built immediately on the archaeological remains, and should be identifiable as such."
A special variant of reconstruction, anastylosis, a method developed in the field of classical archaeology but also applicable for partially destroyed monuments of later epochs, is referred to in article 15 of the Venice Charter: "All reconstruction work should however be ruled out a priori. Only anastylosis, that is to say, the reassembling of existing but dismembered parts, can be permitted. The material used for integration should always be recognisable and its use should be the least that will ensure the conservation of a monument and the reinstatement of its form." According to this method the fragments of an ashlar stone building - for instance a Greek temple - found on or in the ground could be put together again; the original configuration is determined from the site and from traces of workmanship, from peg holes, etc. If extant, the original foundations are used in situ. Such a re-erection demands preliminary work in building research; an inventory of all the extant building components, which must be analyzed and measured exactly, results in a reconstruction drawing with as few gaps as possible so that mistakes with the anastylosis can be avoided. A technical plan must also be worked out to preclude damage during re-erection and to address all aspects of conservation, including the effect of weathering. Finally, the didactic plan for an anastylosis must be discussed, with concern also being given to future use by tourists.
In order to be able to show original fragments - a capital, part of an entablature, a gable, etc. - on their original location and in their original context as part of an anastylosis, there is of course a need for more or less extensive provisional structures. The fragments in an anastylosis should only be conserved and presented as originals; they are not completed as in a restoration or embedded in a partial or complete reconstruction. The limits of anastylosis are reached when the original fragments are too sparse and would appear on the provisional structure as a sort of "decoration". Anastylosis, an approach which can indeed serve to protect original material in certain circumstances, also illustrates the special role of the fragment in archaeological heritage management as well as the particular significance of conservation work in this context.
Finally reference must be made again to the necessity of a comprehensive record and inventory of archaeological monuments as a basic requirement of archaeological heritage management, as expounded in article 4 of the Charter of Lausanne: "The protection of the archaeological heritage must be based upon the fullest possible knowledge of its extent and nature. General survey of archaeological resources is therefore an essential working tool in developing strategies for the protection of the archaeological heritage. Consequently archaeological survey should be a basic obligation in the protection and management of the archaeological heritage." According to article 5 this should include appropriate reports on the results of archaeological excavations: "A report conforming to an agreed standard should be made available to the scientific community and should be incorporated in the relevant inventory within a reasonable period after the conclusion of the excavation" - quite an understandable wish given the many scientific reports that do not appear within a "reasonable period" but are very long in coming. Moreover, because of the almost unavoidable profusion of emergency and salvage excavations with their immense "publication debts" and the excessive stockpile of artifacts, it has to be clear that it is now more important than ever to protect our archaeological monuments from intervention. In the final analysis an excavation without a subsequent scholarly publication and without conservation of the findings is totally useless.
The importance of comprehensive documentation and scientific publication of all work undertaken in archaeological heritage management must be emphasized again and again. Documentation and publication are absolutely essential because, as has already been discussed, every excavation is in fact an irreversible intervention that partially or totally destroys the archaeological monument; indeed in many cases after completion of an excavation the monument, apart from the artifacts, exists only in the form of a scientific description and analysis, and no longer in the form of undisturbed historic fabric. From this situation comes the principle: no excavation without scientific documentation. In a certain sense the scholarly publication, which conveys all the phases of work and thus makes the archaeological monument virtually re-constructible in conjunction with the salvaged artifacts, has to replace the original monument. The documentation for an excavation must include all the overlapping layers from various epochs and different building phases; all traces of history must be given serious consideration. A particular historic layer should not be studied and others neglected in the documentation; for instance the classical archaeologist cannot heedlessly remove Byzantine remains or the prehistoric archaeologist neglect the remains from medieval times that would be of interest to an archaeologist of the Middle Ages.
The obvious care that must be given to preservation of the excavated artifacts from all historical epochs must also be seen in this context. The conservation of archaeological findings (and their restoration, when necessary) - the reassembling of ceramic shards, the preservation of wooden materials found in the damp earth or of a practically unrecognizably rusted metal artifact which would rapidly and completely decay without conservation treatment - is first of all a prerequisite for correct publication of the excavation. Subsequently, after their scientific treatment, groups of artifacts that belong together should not be unnecessarily split up and distributed among various collections, but rather, in accordance with what should perhaps also be a preservation principle, they should be housed in a nearby museum of the particular region so that the crucial relationship to the original monument site is at least to some extent preserved.
Table of contents ↑VIII. Reversibility as Principle of Preservation
Among the fathers of 20th century preservation, the great theoreticians of the turn of the century, Riegl, Dehio, Dvôrák and others, there was no talk or only
indirect mention of "reversibility". Only in the last decades does this word, not mentioned even once in the Charter of Venice, appear frequently in connection
with restoration issues.
In an effort to establish at least lexical proof of the use of the word "Reversibilität" in German, we are referred almost exclusively to a natural scientific
context, in contrast to the somewhat broader use of the word in French (réversibilité), Italian (reversibilità) and English (reversibility).
"Reversibilität" means able to turb back, therefore "reversible processes can be undone in every detail".(1) Nothing is to be found, however,
concerning the use of the word which has in the meantime become common in preservation, and which could be defined here, for the beginning, as the option in preservation
work of being able to reestablish the previous condition without limitations.
The overall problematic concerning the relationship reversibility/irreversibility is defined in the relevant article in the "Europäische Enzyklopädie zu Philosophie und Wissenschaft", published in 1990: "Reversibility exists if processes can also proceed in time in reverse sequence. If that is not the case, then it is a matter of irreversibility. Many of the processes considered reversible are, strictly speaking, merely processes that are with reasonable accuracy roughly reversible. In philosophic generalization of practical experiences from all relevant spheres of life and of the history of mankind it is often established that reversibility is the exception which requires explanation in an objective reality that is essentially characterized by irreversibility: because irreversibility is an essential character of all evolutionary processes, the acknowledgement of the universality of the principle of evolution is simultaneously acknowledgement of the general irreversibility of the objective happening. In contrast to such philosophical interpretations of the dominance of irreversibility, in physics irreversibility long played a subordinate role. Because the laws of motion of mechanics, quantum mechanics and electrodynamics are invariant against time reversal, within physics irreversibility was seen either as a result of reversibility that followed under very specific conditions or even was declared mere illusion before the background of universally valid reversibility ..." (2)
Our monuments with all their later changes and additions which indeed are to be accepted on principle as part of the historic fabric are the result of irreversible historic processes. Their "age value" which receives the highest priority in Riegl′s "Monument Cult"(3) is also the result of more or less irreversible aging processes. It can hardly be a question of keeping there "natural" aging processes (catchword "patina") reversible, of rejuvenizing the monument, of returning it to that "original splendor" that is so fondly cited at dedications; rather it is only a question of arresting more or less "unnatural" decay (for example the effects of general environmental pollution), of warding off dangers, and simply of keeping all interventions that are for particular reasons necessary or inavoidable as "reversible" as possible. "Reversibility" in preservation work as the option of being able to reestablish - in as unlimited a manner as possible - the previous condition means deciding in favor of "more harmless" (sometimes also simply more intelligent) solutions and avoiding irreversible interventions which often end with an irreversible loss of the monument as a historic document.
In this sense we can speak of a reversibility option within the context of several principles of modern preservation laid down in the Charter of Venice. Regarding the maintenance of monuments - that often overlooked but so essential field of "servicing" - there are measures that must be repeated constantly and thus to a certain degree are reversible. It can be assumed that a certain degree of reversibility is guaranteed regarding repair measures as well, if the important principle of repairs using traditional materials and techniques is observed. For instance in case of repairs that become necessary again in the future or in connection with use-related changes, repair work that is limited to the strictly necessary is more likely to be reversible than would be the renewal of entire components using the arsenal of modern materials and techniques. This is not to mention the fact that a historic building, rehabilitated "from top to bottom", for which every principle of repair has been disregarded, can completely loose its significance as historic evidence without demolition taking place. Insofar as traditional repairs are limited to the replacement of wornout old materials with new materials only on truly damaged places, the reversibility option refers essentially to preservation of the "ability to be repaired" (repeated "repairibility"). In this sense the replacement of stones by the cathedral stonemason workshops, seen as "continuous repair", can be understood as a "reversible" measure (insofar as it keeps its orientation to the existing forms, materials and craftsmanship), although the continuous loss of material is naturally an irreversible process. Finally, a further reference to possible reversibility options in "rehabilitations" and "modernizations" of monuments: naturally here too the more modest, perhaps repeatable solution, reduced to the necessary - for instance the replacement building in the gap in a row of buildings in the repair of a historic quarter - is more likely to be relatively reversible than the large project which irrevocably breaks up the historic urban structure and takes over multiple land parcels. From a preservation viewpoint, "reversible" solutions are also naturally to be given preference in modernization work of all kinds in older buildings: for instance an electric installation placed on top of plaster which can be renewed or removed without damage to the historic fabric.
Also in the field of modern safety technology (technology that for conservation reasons is indispensable for the preservation of materials and structures), where interventions such as fastenings, nailings, static auxiliary structures, etc. are often "invisible" but nonetheless serious, reversibility can be introduced at least as a goal in the sense of a more or less reversible intervention, for example an auxiliary construction, removable in the future, which relieves historic exterior masonry walls or an old roof structure. The issue of more or less reversibility will naturally also play a role in the weighing of advantages and disadvantages of purely craftsmanlike repairs as opposed to modern safety techniques, quite apart from the questions of costs, long-term effects, etc. For example, is the consolidation of a sandstone figure using a silica acid ester dip or an acryl resin full impregnation simply inavoidable because there is no other alternative or, instead of adhering to a - more or less - hypothetical "reversibility" should we talk here about various degrees of "compatibility" (a term that is especially familiar to natural scientists). In the case of a compatible (that is, adapted in its nature to the original material) "nondamaging" substitute that serves to stabilize and supplement when used in conservation or restorations work, we can at any rate more likely assume that this material can to a certain degree be employed "reversibly".
With all conservation measures on a work at art - stabilization of the paint layers on a panel painting, consolidation of a worm-infested wooden sculpture, etc. - the materials that are more or less introduced should at least be examined regarding their relative reversibility; sometimes a cautious "bringing-it-through" with interventions that are perhaps less permanent but to a certain degree reversible should be given preference. This would also depend on the use of materials for which a kind of "antidote", in the sense of the reversibility of the procedure, is always held in readiness. Thus if the surface of a monument possesses several "finishes", we must be conscious that every "re-exposure" of an older finish means the - irreversible - removal of a younger but likewise "historic" finish; that re-exposure is not in fact a foregone conclusion but rather is only justified after a comprehensive analysis which favors it as having "great historic, archaeological or aesthetic value", as the Charter of Venice says. Even such a "harmless" measure as the removal of a yellowed varnish layer, which in the sense of a cyclic renewal may seem to be "reversible" because varnish is replaced again and again by varnish can be connected with irreversible damages to the paint layer. The demand for reversibility is valid moreover for many restorative additions. With appropriately cautious treatment of the transition "seam" between the new and the historic fabric, we can speak here of an almost complete reversibility, for instance the closure of a gap in a painting using watercolor retouching that can easily be removed. Just as we already spoke about reversibility in the sense of "ability to be repaired again" here we are concerned with the option of being able to conserve or restore again with as little damage as possible.
It is no coincidence that the "reversibility debate" now being carried on in many fields of preservation was inaugurated primarily in the literature on the restoration of paintings: presumably painting restorers have always been vexed by the irreversible interventions of their colleagues in the near and distant past. But even if restoration history is in many cases a downright alarming process, it does not allow itself to be reversed in the sense of a "de-restoration". Such an attempt can indeed prove itself a tragic mistake, think of Leonardo′s Last Supper, which threatens in part to disintegrate into nothingness with the continuation of the recent restoration, which has already caused irreversible conditions. In comparison the fate of the Barbarini Faun in the Glyptothek in Munich is different: he long ago lost the fig leaf applied (luckily reversible) in the 17th century, but at any time he could be given once again the baroque additions that have been stored in the depot since the last " de-restoration".
The restorer will hopefully be careful about removing retouchings and additions that already are a part of the "historic fabric" as if they had been applied earlier as "reversibly" as we can expect today from such a work - work which should at least be left open for possible corrections by future colleagues who are perhaps equipped with better technical possibilities and new knowledge. In addition to the reversibility option suggested for conservation and restoration work, this approach can eventually also be helpful in renovations. Renovations - of surfaces - are perhaps the sole means not only to pass down the architectural appearance of a monument but also to conserve the surviving historic fabric under a new "wearing course" as it were - provided that this wearing course (for instance a new coat of paint according to historic evidence) is reversible; that is a renewed reexposure of the original would be just as possible as renewed renovation (the ability to be renovated again).
The broad spectrum of "reversible" measures in various branches of preservation practice could be discussed using many more examples going beyond theses observation. But perhaps we should agree upon a certain limitation on the use of the by now popular "magic word" reversibility. Even where the principle of reversibility is legitimately brought into play, it is never a matter of a total reversibility but rather of reversibility options, of a more or less genuine reversibility, if the work is not absolutely irreversible but rather remains "to a certain degree" reversible. Thus there is a clear discrepance between theoretically conceivable and practically realizable reversibility, quite in mind of the encyclopedia excerpt cited previously, according to which even "many of the processes which are considered reversible are strictly speaking merely processes, that are with reasonable accuracy roughly reversible". A very helpful aim for preservation practice seems to be in this context the possibility of repeating certain measures, thus the already mentioned ability to repair again, to conserve again, to restore again, to renovate again, to add again: a monument that is to survive the coming centuries in spite of its increasing "age value" is never repaired and restored "once and for all", as one must sometimes fear given the wild perfectionism of our time, which naturally hasn′t skirted the field of preservation.
Work that is to a certain degree reversible is always temporarily applied: retouching work could be removed during the next restoration, additions to or auxiliary walls in a building that in case of a future change in use could be taken down again. In each case to a certain exent the "previous condition" before the last measures would be reestablished. In this sense the reversibility option can correct some all-too-perfect or simply "excessive" preservation plans which arouse the suspicion that the preservationists, in league with the participating restorers, engineers and scientists, want to set a permanent monument to themselves. In contrast to technocrats, for whom any means is justified for achieving a certain aim, the preservationist obsessed with "reversibility" at least demonstrates a healthy mistrust of his own actions - no wonder given experiences with mostly irreversible results of preservation as practised by our predecessors.
The issue of reversibility is naturally to be subordinated, as are other preservation principles as well, to the principle of conservation as the highest tenet; in
other words, in preservation there must also be deliberate or unavoidable irreversibility, the irreversible intervention as the only possibility for preserving a monument.
However, decisions for reversible or irreversible measures naturally presuppose thorough preliminary investigations; investigations involving restoration findings as well
as building research, the "art" of which should be to manage themselves with interventions which are as slight as possible. Moreover, these
investigations should actually be repeatable in the future on the object, in order to be able to control results and eventually to make corrections; this, too, is an
important prerequisite for the option already mentioned often, the "ability to restore again".
In contrast, in certain archaeological investigations the findings in their entirety (with the exception of "exhibits" that land in a museum) are often lost
perforce. Comprehensive documentation takes place of the historic fabric on the historic location, whereby the excavation process at least remains understandable through
publications - "reversibility" on paper?
So, in the end one could somewhat more critically" scrutinize" the welcome reversibility option. For example, reversibility as a comfortable way out? There
is no need for new ideas since the work is anyway only planned as "temporary", until we can return again to the "intact world" of the
previous condition. Still worse: reversibility as the excuse for the down right disfiguring handling of a monument? Reversibility as a kind of "evasive
manoevre" in the face of history, because one could, possibly after many generations of "revisible" measures, return again to the starting
point? Be as it may, reversibility remains a useful option which naturally has to subordinate itself to the general aims and principles of preservation.
1 Wörterbuch der deutschen Gegenwartssprache, vol. 2, Berlin 1985, p. 3034.
2 Ulrich Röseberg, "Reversibilität/Irreversibilität", in: Europäische Enzyklopädie zu Philosophie und Wissenschaft, vol. 4, edited by H. J. Sandkühler, Hamburg 1990, p. 126.
3 Alois Riegl, Der moderne Denkmalkultus, sein Wesen und seine Entstehung, Wien 1903, in: Riegl, Gesammelte Aufsätze, Augsburg/Wien 1929, pp.144-193.
Table of contents ↑
IX. Authenticity and Preservation
The Nara Document on Authenticity from 1994 (see pp. 89-90) ends with the definitive article 13:
"Depending on the nature of the cultural heritage, its cultural context, and its evolution through time, authenticity judgements may be linked to the worth of a great
variety of sources of information. Aspects of these sources may include form and design, materials and substance, use and function, traditions and techniques, location
and setting, and spirit and feeling, and other internal and external factors. The use of these sources permits elaboration of the specific artistic, historic, social and scientific
dimensions of the cultural heritage being examined."
This formulation attempts to interpret the "test of authenticity in design, material and workmanship" which plays a special role in the criteria for inscriptions onto the World Heritage List, placing it in a broader context that gives consideration to all possible authentic values for monuments. Because the discussion of authenticity addresses the fundamentals of preservation theory and practice in many respects, it seems appropriate here to consider several special aspects of this subject in a revised version of the introductory lecture ("The Test of Authenticity and the New Cult of Monuments") (1) given at the Nara conference in the section on "Changing Concepts of Authenticity". Since the Nara meeting this discussion has been extended on an international level in a series of further conferences on authenticity.
The best summary of what authenticity could mean, not only in the context of world heritage but for preservation as a whole, is in fact still provided by the Venice Charter: "Imbued with a message from the past, the historic monuments of generations of people remain to the present day as living witnesses of their age-old traditions. People are becoming more and more conscious of the unity of human values and regard ancient monuments as a common heritage. The common responsibility to safeguard them for future generations is recognized. It is our duty to hand them on in the full richness of their authenticity." Accordingly the preservation of monuments involves a "message" that is linked to certain authentic traditions, a message that is credible - that is, authentic - because it is based on the authentic traditions of different cultures and is attested to by monuments as authentic evidence. The phrase "in the full richness of their authenticity" promises more than only material or formal authenticity and exceeds the "test of authenticity" introduced by the World Heritage Convention.
Whereas in earlier centuries the term authenticity was used relatively seldom (for example in issues of faith involving the divine source of the Holy Scripture), in our century the cult of the authentic has put out very colorful buds. Everything that is produced by someone is authentic. Even the opposite of genuine is said to be authentic, from the "authentic" reproduction to the "authentic" fake - a whole bouquet of authenticities. (2)
Authentic Documents
"A work or document is authentic," says an encyclopedia from 1908, "if it is written under the conditions claimed by the author or by tradition. It then
possesses authenticity, or genuineness, in contrast to falsified works or documents. Establishment of authenticity ensues from an examination of content and form and
from the testimonials of others." (3) This rather limited use of the term can easily be transferred to the field of preservation: the monument as an authentic document
that should be preserved. For thousands of years of mankind′s history, for which no written sources exist, there is in fact only the immense but not inexhaustible
"archive" of archaeological monuments. Every archaeological site is an authentic document.
However, such a document is undoubtedly most authentic if it is still completely untouched. If we try to "read" it - to study it by means of an archaeological
excavation - the authentic document (with the exception of the artifacts that wind up in a museum) will be more or less destroyed.
The authentic document consisting of material traces is replaced by the record of the excavation, also a kind of document, that certifies the authenticity of findings that
no longer exist: a process by which the authentic monument is to a certain degree lost, perhaps "living on" only in the form of documentation.
Without going into more detail here concerning the consequences of archaeological heritage management, which are treated in the Charter of Lausanne (see pp. 83-90), it must be emphasized that of course not only field monuments that are surveyed using archaeological methods are to be regarded as authentic documents but rather the "historic fabric" of all monuments. The built heritage that is not yet buried in the ground is also to be documented and preserved as part of the overall cultural heritage. In all fields of preservation it is a matter not only of "reading" authentic documents but also of preserving them so that in the future - presumably with improved methods - they can be read again. At stake is an enormous archive of authentic historic sources that must be preserved under all circumstances for future generations.
The monument as a historic document, monuments as an archive of authentic sources for cultural history, social history, industrial history, etc. are evidence created by man that, according to the early definition in a late classical commentary on Cicero "should evoke remembrance of something" (omnia monumenta sunt, quae faciunt alicuius rei recordationem). The material from which the monument as an object of remembrance is made can thus be just as variable as the degree of "materialization" of that which the monument represents - from the traces of a prehistoric settlement detectable now only in the dark-colored negative form of post holes, to the immense stone blocks of an "immortal" pyramid created as it were for eternity. The authenticity of the monument depends here however not on the material alone, but rather on the authentic form created from a particular material with the help of particular techniques which are based on long traditions (today, of course, also including industrial techniques). As an idea that took on shape, the authentic monument is in any case more than an "object" consisting of a certain material. There are even monuments whose materials are so ephemeral that they are in need of renewal again and again; indeed even the mere replica of a monument that no longer exists materially can be an authentic piece of remembrance.
Finally, a monument that (according to the above definition) "should evoke remembrance of something" is tied not only to an authentic form created for the authentic function out of authentic material with the help of authentic practices, as all of these things have come down to us (generally in a more or less fragmentary state); as an object of remembrance materialized in a certain shape the monument is also very fundamentally tied to the historic place, the monument site and its surroundings.
Jacob′s Rock
As an example of the authentic "object of remembrance" that is tied to a certain place, we can consider an early case from the Bible of the conscious setting of a monument: the story of Jacob, who after his dream of the ladder to heaven marks the place where the vision occurred with an enduring sign made of stone: "Then Jacob rose early in the morning, and took the stone that he had put at his head, set it up as a pillar and poured oil on top of it. And he called the name of that place Bethel" (Genesis 28,10 ff.). The authentic place here is "locus sacer", a holy place that refers to something suprahuman; this is not merely valid for the burial places (ranging from mounds to pyramids) that are often associated with monuments. Jacob's stone - if it were to be rediscovered - obtained from Jacob an intentional authentic form to differentiate it from other ordinary stones in that it was erected out of an undoubtedly authentic material with the help of a particular (in this case rather simple, but anyway authentic) technique in order to make clear its authentic function. However, the function of this "intended monument" was for the stone to be a reminder of a certain event which took place only at this place, an authentic monument site. Further examples could be taken from all over the world and from very different cultures, including only a few "intended monuments" in the sense of an intentional setting of a monument from the very beginning, but above all a wealth of objects whose monument quality as an "object of remembrance" has first evolved over the course of centuries. With these monuments there would also be distinctions to be made between various authentic historical layers from the original up to the present state; consider for instance a historic old town that has evolved over centuries as a testimony to history.
Test of Authenticity
As with Jacob′s stone, however, in all these cases we would always encounter the same points regarding the problem of a "test of authenticity" that is valid not only for the world cultural heritage but for all monuments: authenticity of form, material, technique, function, and site. Except that "authentic function" has been added - whether or not a monument still serves its original purpose is undoubtedly an essential criterion - this formulation does not differ in principle from the World Heritage Convention′s old test of authenticity: the test of authenticity in design, material, workmanship or setting. It appears, however, to obviate possible misunderstandings and on the whole to do more justice to the monument. Authentic form comprises naturally not only the appearance of the monument but also the design which may have led to this appearance. Authentic technique refers to all aspects of construction with a particular material and of the handling of materials; thus it encompasses not only the old test of authenticity of workmanship, which is tied more to craftsmanship, but also the technologies of the industrial age. Setting or context can also be tied to the monument place or site, which is of fundamental significance for the monument that is to be preserved in situ; here site is understood simply as the ground on which a monument stands or stood.
Authentic Message
We could understand the authentic message of the monument as the superordinate term for our "test of authenticity"; a message that comes to expression in forms, materials, techniques, functions and in the authentic site. One could also speak of the authentic spirit that is expressed in the monument′s own "trace" and its "aura". (4) Trace is also understood in the meaning of a history of the monument′s origin and impact that intensifies as our knowledge increases (preservation as a "quest for traces"). Aura refers not only to the aura of the famous original but also to the aura of the modest historic monument, aura that is perhaps present on the monument site even when the monument is no longer or is hardly comprehensible as "historic fabric"; aura can also be found even in the different appearance that a more or less authentic material has taken on over the course of time.
The Authenticity Option
Those who would like to see a mere fiction in this authentic spirit should not forget that, in view of the constant transformation of monuments over the course of time as well as the changing concept of monuments, our tests of authenticity question in principle the credibility of all elements: the form, that has changed again and again; the material, that is constantly being replaced; the repeated interventions (including preservation interventions!) in the fabric; the change in the original function or the assumption of new functions; the monument site in a setting that is changing, etc. But in a world that is changing as never before this should in fact not stop us from sustaining at least the option of authenticity, and in this way perhaps experiencing after all the message that the monument as an "object of remembrance" wants to convey to us.
Fiction of the Authentic Form
In the past decades our historic heritage has not only been subjected to natural decay and all kinds of destruction but at shorter or longer intervals it has been conserved, restored or renovated. The nature of this work depended on changing concepts of authenticity in combination with a more or less one-sided emphasis on particular monument values. Thus in the previous century, despite warning voices from such men as John Ruskin and William Morris, the preservation architects who prevailed were those who backed completely a fiction of authentic form and authentic design which negated later alterations in accordance with "stylistic purity" and "unity of style." They sacrificed to this fiction not only all traces of age but also the historic layers that had evolved over the course of centuries, quite in keeping with Viollet-le-Duc′s famous definition of restoration: "Restaurer un édifice, ce n′est pas l′entretenir, le réparer ou le refaire, c′est le rétablir dans un état complet qui peut n′avoir jamais existé à un moment donné" ("To restore a building is not to preserve it, to repair, or rebuild it; it is to reinstate it in a condition of completeness that could never have existed at any given time").(5)
Riegl′s "Modern Cult of Monuments" and "Monument Values"
Around 1900 Georg Dehio and Alois Riegl, two of the founding fathers of 20th century preservation, were among those who objected strongly to the nature of 19th century "restoration". With his famous slogan "conserve, do not restore", Georg Dehio (6) aimed at preserving historic fabric without completions if possible: he wanted to thus preserve as purely as possible the authenticity of form and material. With its system of monument values Riegl′s essay "The Modern Cult of Monuments; Its Character and Its Origin", is still a definitive work today, but one that has only recently become known on an international level through an English translation. (7) In Riegl′s cult of monuments a central role is played by age-value, expressed in traces of transience - natural weathering, signs of use, etc.: "In the 20th century we appreciate particularly the purely natural cycle of becoming and passing away. Every artifact is thereby perceived as a natural entity whose development should not be disturbed ... The cult of age-value condemns not only every willful destruction of monuments as a desecration of all-consuming nature but in principle also every effort at conservation, as restoration is an equally unjustified interference with nature. The cult of age-value, then, stands in ultimate opposition to the preservation of monuments."
As the age-cult, the "historical cult" also demands that man refrain from interventions in the inviolable authentic monument, which should be as genuine a document as possible. But in contrast to age-value the historical value of a monument is that much greater "the more faithfully the monument′s original state is preserved: disfiguration and decay detract from it. Thus the cult of historical value must aim above all at the most complete conservation of the monument in its present state ..."
According to Riegl, preservation is thus played out in the conflict between age-value and historical value (which also encompasses art historical values). As we are forced to weigh options in view of the inevitable transitoriness of all works by man, age-value has the advantage ("strictly speaking, it is the only viable strategy"), whereas historical value according to the requirements of scholarly research could also get its due by means of modern documentation. According to Riegl besides these two commemorative values - age-value and historical value - preservation must also take present-day values into consideration, above all the use-value of a monument. This means that a monument that is being used is to be treated differently than one that is unused; a historic residence or a church should be treated differently from a castle ruin that is seen only under the criterion of age-value. "Only works for which we have no use can be enjoyed exclusively from the standpoint of age-value."
Monument values moreover also include art-value, which according to Riegl is to be seen as a relative value that depends on the particular Kunstwollen of the time and thus is constantly changing. Although under certain conditions all of these monument values are to be weighed against one another in reaching preservation decisions, Riegl evidently saw the future of monument preservation for the "modern man" in the primacy of age-value, whereas in the past the "cult of historical value for its own sake" had prevailed and "19th century preservation of monuments rested essentially on the two premises of the originality of style (its historical value) and the unity of style (its newness value)." (8)
Although Riegl′s "modern cult of monuments", summarized here very simplistically, puts its hopes above all on authentic historic fabric (to be spared even from conservation interventions as far as possible) as the bearer of the "scars of time" that are reminders of transience, the experience of age-value naturally requires not only mere material but rather at least the trace of the original form, the authentic "appearance": "Ruins appear more picturesque the more advanced their state of decay," writes Riegl. "Of course, this process has its limits ... A shapeless pile of rubble is no longer able to convey age-value; there must be at least a recognizable trace of the original form, that is of man′s handiwork, whereas rubble alone reveals no trace of the original creation." (9) Even if monument protection and monument management in a modern sense could be practiced with a necessary balancing of commemorative values and present-day values, according to Riegl′s system of monument values, his cult of age-value considered by itself does indeed come close to that phrase "let things pass away in beauty" that fits so well to the feeling of the fin de siècle.
Authenticity of the Rebuilt
After the Second World War in Europe, when not only the most significant monuments but also entire historic cities lay in ruins, some preservation principles such as Dehio′s "conserve, do not restore" appeared to be reduced to absurdity. Many monuments, including ones that have since been entered on the World Heritage List, have reconstruction to thank for their authenticity, a rebuilding that not only incorporated authentic fragments in the new like relics but also to some extent involved reconstruction on the basis of a more or less well-documented historical foundation. Monuments were returned to an "authentic", pre-destruction state which had perhaps evolved over centuries or, in special cases, to a perhaps fictive "original state" which was nevertheless held to be authentic.
Scientific Preservation and Historic Fabric
On the authority of the turn-of-the-century principles that had been developed in the struggle against the purifying and reconstructing approach of 19th century restoration, modern 20th century preservation continued to develop in the post-war years, regarding itself as a scientifically operating discipline that has at its command sound principles (from the Carta del Restauro to the Venice Charter) which are to some extent recognized worldwide. Accordingly the monument is viewed as historic fabric that is to be preserved in principle with all its historic layers, or in other words in the state that has come down to us today. By now certain standards, also acknowledged internationally, exist for the preservation of this historic fabric, not only in the field of conservation and restoration of works of art such as paintings and sculpture where the authenticity of the monument can to some extent be certified. These standard practices range from preparatory investigations, building measurements, analysis of historic surfaces, damage surveys, and plans for stabilization of materials and structures, to investigations and documentation that are carried out during the entire course of a project. (10) Indeed with the engineering and natural science investigations that are now at the service of preservation practice, there are possibilities that were unknown before for definitive testing on questions of authenticity; for example determining the true age of an object, researching the authentic construction or the authentic color scheme, etc. This "monument cult" of the 20th century, concentrating entirely on "historic fabric", regards the monument in the same way as the Venice Charter, which was strongly influenced by the new principles from the turn of the century: if it is to remain a credible - an authentic - document, the monument may be conserved, but only in special cases restored; if at all possible it is not to be renovated and it is truly never to be reconstructed.
The preservationist, sometimes reproached on this account for practicing a modern cult of relics, is however able to justify his concern over the "historic fabric" that is evoked in so many expert reports by maintaining that only the monument which has been preserved in its authentic materials - despite possible damages and alterations, and with all the "scars of time" or indeed even with signs of decay - is an authentic document of history and thus in a certain way is indeed comparable to an authentic irreplaceable relic. In daily practice however the profundity of the concept of preservation, as made evident in the image of the relic, is often hardly perceptible. Perhaps this is because the question of why, in fact, "historic fabric" should under all circumstances be documented, analyzed and conserved no longer has to be dealt with. The preservationist hurriedly sets to work, of course not without a "diagnosis" drawn up on the basis of a thorough "anamnesis" (in accordance with the preservation jargon of late that is so readily borrowed from the field of medicine).
Despite the impressive wealth of investigations and documentation, a modern cult of monuments that is one-sidedly concentrated on the care of "historic fabric" leads to a dead end if the authentic message of the monument is no longer understood. It was certainly a necessary process for us not only to take heed of beautiful outer surfaces or of the appearance of a monument, but rather also to become concerned with material and structure, with the inner fabric that perhaps only the scientist or the civil engineer can explain to us, with the reverse side of a painting even if it bears no signature. However, we should still be interested in the front as well, although with certain exercises in our modern preservation cult we seem to have forgotten this.
Principles of Conservation/Preservation
The authentic message of the monument as it should be understood according to the principles of preservation at the end of the 20th century - a new "cult of monuments" which is still committed to preservation of "historic fabric", but not only to that - must with good reason relate not only to the authentic fabric of monuments but also to their authentic form, their authentic appearance. This encompasses all the possible consequences for a decision about precisely how a monument is to be conserved or restored, or perhaps how it is to be restored back to a particular state, renovated or under certain conditions even replicated or reconstructed.
If it is a matter of not only preserving authentic documents but rather of preserving monuments "in the full richness of their authenticity", it is in fact possible to draw up a whole bundle of measures based on the Venice Charter that can be of use for a monument in accordance with the particular case and situation. Conservation is and of course will remain in the future the supreme preservation principle; there are in fact categories of monuments that may only be conserved but not restored and particularly not renovated. But there are also monuments that will be conserved and restored, and monuments that will be conserved, restored and renovated. There is necessary maintenance and repair work, necessary stabilization and rehabilitation work; possibilities exist for completion and partial reconstruction; there is the possibility of making a replica as a means of saving a monument. There can even be good reasons for a reconstruction; think for example of the very different responses to the issue of rebuilding in Europe after the Second World War.
The starting point is of course always this fundamental maxim: preservation means to care for, preserve, maintain monuments, not to falsify, damage, impair or even completely destroy them. In the ideal case this even means refraining from any measures at all, perhaps with the exception of necessary maintenance, or doing only the necessary in modest self-limitation - in any case not doing all that would be technically possible. If interventions are unavoidable, then they are to be reversible to the greatest extent possible, whereby the term reversibility, introduced in modern preservation and as such quite helpful, is to be understood as only an approximate value, as the reversibility option. The connection with the term authenticity lies in the fact that "reversibility" presumes that all interventions, alterations, etc. are to be carried out so that they could be undone, that is, a previous authentic condition could be re-established (see pp. 45-50).
Non-European Traditions
With the phrase "in the full richness of their authenticity" the Venice Charter, although formulated under European preservation traditions, had in mind the monuments of all mankind. In view of the worldwide efforts involving the cultural heritage (as evoked in so many resolutions), we must ultimately also be concerned with other cultural traditions, such as the traditions of the Asian cultures or of the Arabic world, which to some extent see the evidence of their history from other perspectives. The most famous example for this is the Ise Shrine, which has been reconstructed in the same form and the same materials every 20 years since the 7th century, as part of a religious ceremony: a special case but also an extraordinary example for the authentic message, the authentic spirit of the monument. Repeated renewal can moreover be the only guarantee for the survival of certain building cultures. Consider for example the now highly endangered earthen architecture of northern Africa; it has been possible to preserve its authenticity through a constant replacement of materials carried out over centuries in a particular tradition involving skilled craft practices. Indeed, in certain cultures there are artifacts that are only created for particular ceremonies and events and otherwise do not appear worthy of preservation; they are also so ephemeral that their authenticity can only be maintained through the preservation of the relevant artistic and handicraft practices.
Consequences of an Expanded Application of the Term Monument
As sensible as it still is today in some cases, the battle cry of preservation at the turn of the century - "conserve, do not restore" - may seem rather naive
now if taken literally as a universal dictate, given not only the global basis on which preservation now operates but also the consequences that have arisen from application
of preservation concepts to increasingly diverse aspects of historical evidence (indeed to entire cultural landscapes). It is senseless to ask if the effect of acid rain can
increase the pleasure of "age-value", considering the truly terrible effects - far greater than those of natural decay - of general environmental pollution on
our historic heritage, consequences with which the "modern cult of monuments" in Riegl′s sense could hardly have reckoned.
Furthermore now, at the end of the 20th century, the few monuments that the early fathers of modern preservation were concerned with are generally only the
"highlights" among a barely conceivable wealth of monuments. Cultural landscapes of great variety include monument types that must be adapted to
new uses in order to survive, for example rural buildings that have been subjected to radical changes through the restructuring of agricultural practices, or industrial
monuments that, even with the best of intentions, can only be selectively preserved, sometimes within a museum setting.
"Postmodern" Pluralism
It is even possible that the only strategies that achieve this aim perhaps do not exclude the fiction of authenticity - for example, the commemorative image, created with the
necessary skill and fantasy, to evoke an industrial landscape. It must of course be admitted that the adaptation of an unused monument for museum purposes already
signifies an immense loss of authenticity as compared to a monument that is in the mainstream of life. Attempts to make the authenticity of a monument visible
once more, for instance by restoring it back to a particular state, are also not to be ruled out; neither is a reconstruction, based on authentic sources, that completes
a particular ensemble, although of course this can only follow a thorough weighing of the possible pros and cons for the extant historic stock.
Considering the tremendously far-reaching preservation tasks on hand at the end of the 20th century, an approach that is fixated exclusively on "historic
fabric" simply no longer suffices; rather in preservation practice we can and must avail ourselves from case to case of all possibilities, in what we might
call "postmodern" pluralism.
But even in this new, present-day preservation practice with its wide spectrum of possibilities for dealing with the historic heritage, the principles of the "modern cult of monuments" from the turn of the last century, including Dehio′s slogan "conserve, do not restore", do have their place, as does Viollet-le-Duc′s previously quoted famous definition of restoration - a definition that to a certain extent could be claimed for the carefully achieved results of a good many contemporary restorations. Against this background the problem that the very European-oriented Venice Charter (1964), already a historic document itself, appears not to be compatible with some traditions of non-European cultures, especially if it is rigorously applied, becomes less significant. Other principles which were developed under specific conditions provide superb working tools, for example the too little known Burra Charter developed from the situation on the continent of Australia.
But, given our cultural diversity and the immense number of different tasks in the field, an obviously pluralistic approach in the theory and practice of preservation can hardly be defined as a "postmodern cult of monuments" in contrast to the "modern cult of monuments" of the turn of the century, (11) because to a certain extent preservation has always been "postmodern" in its efforts to save the evidence left by all epochs of mankind′s history. The new monument cult of our fin de siècle could hardly be understood as just a "postmodern" phase of Riegl′s "modern cult of monuments" of the last turn of the century.
Parallels to Art
Moreover, preservation - even 20th century preservation with its supposedly purely scientific methods - has always to some extent been an "expression of its time." Indeed the very dependence on the modern Kunstwollen of a period can give authenticity to the outcome of a restoration measure as a new "historic layer" - consider the results of the restorations of the 19th century, indebted to historicism and by now long "monument-worthy" themselves. If we ask now about preservation′s contribution to the Kunstwollen of the 20th century, we are less interested in the results of a so-called "creative preservation" that has merely falsified authentic historic evidence according to criteria of taste and are more interested in what has resulted from a critical confrontation with the historic fabric. Parallels to the results of our preservation endeavors are to be found in 20th century art, especially since the 1970s, most noticeably in the international art movement that is dedicated entirely to "securing traces," and in the parallel between land art and archaeological excavations (stratigraphic depictions can be transformed directly into "art"). The indisputable "breakthrough" for preservation in 1975 with the European Heritage Year naturally has something to do with the simultaneous rise of the Postmodern (which in the meantime has paled again somewhat) in new architecture. If the nature of the "monument cult" has actually always been "postmodern", then with the awakening of a new "postmodern" age it almost inevitably is part of the avant-garde. At the end of the 20th century preservation practice as a discipline that can deal - more or less confidently - with the authentic evidence of all epochs and also can supply monuments with new uses when needed, appears as it were "postmodern par excellence": if preservation opens or closes "windows into history", unites conditions that originated in different periods or in any case never existed together into a sort of Gesamtkunstwerk, or even offers a choice of various conditions that are to be restored or renewed as part of a renovation.
Preservation′s Function as a Model for a Repair-Oriented Society
Even if we were to strictly reject the fact that aesthetic considerations are in play here (for example the still very modern aesthetic of pure age-value), we can see in the success of preservation at the end of the 20th century (itself in some respects rather surprising) that the achievements of preservation can once again have a generally exemplary function. Thus monuments are not merely serving, as in the last century, as welcome forms for the historicism that was current then, but rather our handling of monuments becomes a kind of "architecture school for the nation". (12) This applies in particular to the necessity of preserving traditional skilled practices in dealing with traditional materials. Furthermore, because the principles of preservation require constant repair work preservation also emerges as a model for a future "repair society". (13)
Authenticity and Emotional Value
A further aspect of the preservation of monuments depends on a genuine or even supposed authenticity of the cultural heritage: namely, the "emotional
value" that is important for every type of monument cult. This aspect has fallen very much into oblivion, but we must be made much more conscious of it, from
the viewpoint of possible strategies against a sometimes obvious cultural animosity arising if the historical heritage is considered only to be an irksome "obstacle
to investment." "Monument feeling" naturally also has to do with the aesthetic dimension, in the sense of enthusiasm for a work of art; with the
historical dimension of the monument, the "breath of history"; and with a monument′s authentic "aura" and "trace". Monument
feeling finds expression in the love of a monument or also in the emotion generated by a historic site that serves as a memorial. Dehio emphasized national feeling above all
as a motive for preservation, (14) whereas Riegl refers to a general human awareness of life, "an irresistibly compelling feeling, not an avocation for aesthetics
and history, that drives us to the cult of monuments" (15). In his "modern cult of monuments" he links this monument feeling to the central
concept of age-value expressed in traces of ephemerality. If Riegl′s age-value is connected with a certain longing for death - the idea of "letting things pass
away in beauty" of the fin de siècle - in contrast at the end of the 20th century a kind of longing for survival can be presumed as an essential motive of our
new monument cult, in view of the general environmental catastrophe. It is an attempt to preserve memory in a world that is changing as never before, and thus
to ensure continuity. This boils down in part to very banal but important aspects of monument feeling, such as the often quoted "feeling at
home", or the special comfort of the old house, etc.
Indeed the attempt, born out of a longing for the genuine and the true, to preserve at least a "stage set" or to create "old" façades has
to do with this special monument feeling. This is an attempt that the preservationist, fighting for true authenticity, may consider hopeless but which he should not reject from
the outset as an immoral proposition. And we should not treat carelessly feelings which to a certain degree also support true preservation. A very critical point is of
course the sorrow, loudly expressed over the centuries, over the lost or over that which is threatened with loss. This sorrow naturally also evokes thoughts of the transitoriness
of all earthly things, including our own human existence; thus we land once more at feelings in connection with Riegl′s "age-value".
The Moral Dimension
The ache over the lost and the threatened must be appropriately experienced by the preservationist. He mourns, as does the environmentalist over the dying forests or a dying-out species. The fact that environmental protection and monument protection belong together, that today’s preservation practice rests on the foundations of a general environmental movement is an aspect that is not to be overlooked, although so far the consequences of this connection are to some extent only reluctantly acknowledged by preservationists themselves. But against the background of worldwide progressive environmental destruction on a gigantic scale, monument protection and management also take on a true moral dimension of which there has been far too little discussion in the history of preservation, although we have certainly not wanted for debates over questions of principles and methods. The moral question directed to the preservationist himself is very tightly linked with the issue of conserving, of preservation as the supreme principle. However, within the framework of today’s "monument cult" the attempt to establish general "moral tenets" for handling the historic heritage could avail itself less of the key concept of authenticity and more of the key term continuity. The concept of historic continuity - continuity which should be protected and which of course is not only embodied in our monuments - can also be called upon as a moral justification for monument protection: the remembrance of history, also necessary in the future for man as a historical creature, must not be broken off. Therefore monuments are to be preserved; to surrender them to destruction is not a question of weighing interests but rather a question of morals. In a figurative sense this is true not only for cultural landscapes shaped by monuments, but also for our natural environment, in which the continuity of a natural history that encompasses millions of years (also embodied by "monuments of nature") appears today to be in question.
With this background we now set ourselves this task at the end of the 20th century: not only to conserve authentic documents as "historic fabric", but also to preserve monuments "in the full richness of their authenticity" for future generations. In a time of general upheaval, in the face of many highly dubious blessings of so-called progress, we will hopefully accrue the moral strength that will help us in the future in the daily struggle against the all-present powers of destruction.
Notes1 Michael Petzet, " ‘In the full richness of their authenticity’ - The Test of Authenticity and the New Cult of Monuments", in: Nara Conference in Relation to the World Heritage Convention, Proceedings, edited by Knut Einar Larsen, Trondheim 1995, pp. 85-99.
2 David Lowenthal, "Authenticity? The dogma of self-delusion", in: Why fakes matter, Essays on problems of authenticity, edited by Mark Jones, London 1991, pp. 184-192.
3 Brockhaus, Konversations-Lexikon, vol. 2, Leipzig 1908, p. 172.
4 On "aura" and "trace" compare Walter Benjamin, "Das Kunstwerk im Zeitalter seiner technischen Reproduzierbarkeit", in: Zeitschrift für Sozialforschung, 1, 1936 (Reprint Frankfurt a. M. 1963, here pp. 14, 16).
5 Eugène-Emmanuel Viollet-le-Duc, Dictionnaire raisonné de l’Architecture Française du XIème au XVIème siècle, vol. VIII, 1868, p. 14, article "Restauration" (English translation taken from M. F. Hearn, ed., The Architectural Theory of Viollet-le-Duc, Cambridge, Mass. 1990, p. 269).
6 Georg Dehio, "Denkmalschutz und Denkmalpflege im 19. Jahrhundert", Strasbourg 1905, in: Dehio, Kunsthistorische Aufsätze, München/Berlin 1914, pp. 275, 280.
7 Alois Riegl, "Der moderne Denkmalkultus, sein Wesen und seine Entstehung", Wien 1903, in: Riegl, Gesammelte Aufsätze, Augsburg/Wien 1929, pp. 144-193; English translation by Kurt W. Forster and Diane Ghirardo: Alois Riegl, "The Modern Cult of Monuments: Its Character and Its Origin", in: Oppositions (Institute for Architectural and Urban Studies, Harvard University), vol. 25, 1982, pp. 21-51.
8 Riegl, see note 7.
9 Riegl, see note 7.
10 For a comprehensive description of modern preservation practice see Michael Petzet/Gert Th. Mader, Praktische Denkmalpflege, Stuttgart/Berlin/Köln 1993.
11 Compare Wilfried Lipp, "Vom modernen zum postmodernen Denkmalkultus? Aspekte zur Reparaturgesellschaft", in: Vom modernen zum postmodernen Denkmalkultus? Denkmalpflege am Ende des 20. Jahrhunderts, edited by W. Lipp and M. Petzet, 7th Annual Conference of Bavarian Preservationists in Passau 1993, Arbeitshefte des Bayerischen Landesamtes für Denkmalpflege (Journals of the Bavarian State Conservation Office), vol. 69, München 1994, pp. 6-12.
12 Walter J. M. Bunsmann, "Denkmalpflege - eine Bauschule der Nation", in: Deutsches Architektenblatt, vol. 16, 5/1984, pp. 603-604.
13 Compare Lipp, see note 11.
14 Dehio, see note 6, p. 268.
15 Alois Riegl, Neue Strömungen in der Denkmalpflege, 1905.
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