Dissertation

ARCHITECTURE AND COLLECTIVE MEMORY AN INVESTIGATION INTO THE CONCEPT OF PLACE AS A HINGE BETWEEN THE RETROSPECTIVE AND PROPOSITIONAL

Rebecca Liebermann Awarded the Robert Cawkwell Prize 2016

CONTENTS

1

INTRODUCTION

5

2

PART ONE THE RETROSPECTIVE | UNDERSTANDING PLACE

3

PART TWO THE PRESENT | INHABITING PLACE

4 5

12

PART THREE THE PROPOSITIONAL | TRANSFORMING PLACE

CONCLUSION

26

36

44 3

PREFACE

The understanding of memory, and more specifically collective memory, comprises an incredibly vast and varied field of knowledge that has always generated much academic interest. Discussion surrounding this topic has long been founded on the assumption that memory can be translated into material form and as such, that there exists a relationship between the material and the mental. This study aims to investigate this relationship and, more specifically, that which exists between collective memory and place. I aim to identify not only how memories are embedded within place but how they are effectively conveyed and sustained; so illustrating how place acts as a hinge between past, present and future.

4

5

INTRODUCTION We convey and sustain knowledge of the past by affixing memories to tangible form, ensuring that they exist beyond a purely mental capacity. Material forms have long been employed as substitutes for the fragile world of human memory in order that they might be preserved beyond a single human lifespan, retaining that which might otherwise be lost to time.1 The nature and significance of these forms is incredibly varied; whilst some, such as written records and artworks, might relate vital aspects regarding the history of a society, others, such as personal photographs or mementos, may only hold meaning for the individual. This study aims to explore architecture as one such form of mnemonic device in the hope of forming a better understanding of the relationship between place and collective memory. I aim to investigate not only how knowledge and information relating to the collective is embedded within place, but how this information is effectively communicated through place from the past to the present and from the present into the future.

The term collective memory, as approached in this investigation, essentially describes the concept that within a society, large or small groups of people share an idea of what happened in the past and why it was important.2 This definition is based on the assumption that memory is not an individual faculty;3 I would argue that no memory can be truly personal since it has been created within a context that exists as a result of the memories of others. As Paul Connerton states in his book How Societies Remember ‘Our experience of the present depends on our knowledge of the past,’4 and it is within the context of this knowledge that we understand ourselves, both personally and as a collective.

Adrian Forty and Susanne KuĚˆchler, The Art of forgetting. (Oxford: Oxford : Berg, 1999.) p. 2 2 Tim Benton, Understanding heritage and memory. (Manchester: Manchester : Manchester University Press, c2010.) p. 2 3 Paul Connerton, How societies remember. (Cambridge: Cambridge : Cambridge University Press, 1989.) p. 2 4 Ibid. p. 2 1

6

The collective to which I am broadly referring in this investigation is that of a society; the term having a good deal of flexibility and encompassing both small scale groups such as club or town societies as well as more extensive ones such as nations and world religions. It is an implicit rule that societies such as these are formed on the basis of shared memories;5 images of the past which act as a context within which the participants are able to form an understanding of one another and of the prevailing social order.6 In this sense, memory acts as a social currency; a vocabulary without which people would still able to communicate but would have no shared understanding of the past. It is my belief that this understanding and knowledge of the past is, to a large extent, embedded within the built environment and, as such, place acts as a source of identity and a point of reference for the distinctiveness, social values and coherence of the collective.7 The reason, I believe, that architecture is such an effective and integral form of communication between past and present, is the level of complexity that is capable of being recorded within the built form.8 Unlike written records, through which information can only be communicated in a linear fashion, place is able to communicate through all the senses. Sight, smell, sound and touch are all engaged simultaneously, stimulating emotion and triggering a psychological response that engages our inner existence in a constant exchange with the exterior world.9 More than this, place is able to communicate through both the tangible and the intangible. We are able to interpret not only that which is physically represented, based on physical evidence but also that which relates feelings and emotions and communicates the manifestation of non-physical values and ideas.

Paul Connerton, How societies remember. (Cambridge: Cambridge : Cambridge University Press, 1989.) p. 3 6 Ibid. p. 3 7 Tim Benton, Understanding heritage and memory. (Manchester: Manchester : Mancheter University Press, c2010.) p. 9 8 Juhani Pallasmaa , ‘Space, Place, Memory and Imagination’ in Spatial recall : memory in architecture and landscape. (New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon: New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon : Routledge, 2009.) p. 6 9 Ibid. p. 27 5

7

From the design and formal structure of a building, for example, one can interpret much about the culture and history of the society in which it was built; their beliefs and values, fashions and tastes, technological advances and access to materials etc. Meanwhile, the psychological facet of a building communicates the less tangible and more complex sense of notional values that have become rooted to that location. As a building is inhabited by many different users and utilised in many different ways over the years, so different layers of memory become attached to it and it acquires significance for more reason than its aesthetic value. Collective memory is cultivated by the stories that become linked to it, the activities that become associated with it and the deeper attachment that this generates, often with little relation to its physical fabric.10 As Drury and McPherson state, ‘The social value of a place may indeed have no direct relationship to any formal historic or aesthetic values that may have been ascribed to it’.11 A modest park bench might be used as a simplistic illustration this. Although the bench conveys little symbolic meaning through its design or material form, it constitutes a part of the built environment with which people interact on a daily basis. Over the passage of time people use the bench and inhabit the space in different ways, and so personal and collective meaning become attached to it.

The bench becomes a common point of reference for those who have experienced it and acquires communal significance as a result of the memories that it represents in physical form. In a similar way to many buildings, the bench relates little evidence of tangible value but possesses a significance that is more felt than articulated.12

Tim Benton, Understanding heritage and memory. (Manchester: Manchester : Manchester University Press, c2010.) p. 9 11 Paul Drury, Anne McPherson, and English Heritage, Conservation principles : policies and guidance for the sustainable management of the historic environmen,. (London: London : English Heritage, 2008.) p. 32 12 Brian Ladd, The ghosts of Berlin : confronting German history in the urban landscape.

(Chicago, Ill. ; London: Chicago, Ill. ; London : University of Chicago Press, c1997.) p. 2 10

8

‘ A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A BENCH’ The bench as a repository of shared memory

9

What is perhaps most interesting about architecture as a mnemonic device is the way that it does not remain a static record like texts or photographs, but rather it forms the basis of a continuum - memory is not only embedded in but constantly projected upon the built environment.13 Whilst our surroundings perpetually provoke memories, our inhabitation and modification of them means that our own memories are simultaneously embodied within a place. As Marc Trieb states in his book Spatial Recall ‘This process is a give and take between the environment, the individual and society as a group.’14 Unlike most other forms of record, architecture is an interactive device that remains fluid and susceptible to change. As a result of this continuous addition and subtraction of memory, the meaning and significance of a building changes and evolves over time, so creating a dialogue between past, present and future. It is this notion of place as a hinge between the retrospective and the propositional that I hope to investigate through my study.

In order to better illustrate my ideas and provide an example of these concepts in play, I have chosen to use Park Hill flats in Sheffield as the mechanism by which I explore the themes of past, present and future in regards to the relationship between place and collective memory. Within its relatively short lifespan the estate has undergone an almost complete cycle of collective perception. From being hailed first as a national icon and a forerunner of post-war social housing developments15 to being regarded as one of the biggest failures of post-war brutalist ideals, Park Hill has always held a position of iconic significance in Sheffield. The estate boasts an incredibly rich and complex heritage and whether positive or negative, the associations held by those who know it are strongly articulated within Sheffield’s collective identity. With its current regeneration now underway, sparking initial controversy and now rapidly increasing support, Park Hill offers a perfect example of what might be regarded as an architectural continuum and provides a powerful illustration of how a piece of architecture can act as an archive of social memory.

Marc Treib, Spatial recall : memory in architecture and landscape. (New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon: New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon : Routledge, 2009.) p.14 14 Ibid. p. 14 15 Sheffield Housing Development, Ten years of housing in Sheffield = Le logement a Sheffield durant dix ans = Desyat’ let zhilishchnogo stroitel’stva goroda Sheffil’d (Sheffield). Logement a Sheffield durant dix ans (Sheffield), (Sheffield : City Architect’s Department, 1962.)

13

10

PARK HILL ‘An archive of social memory’

11

PART 1 THE RETROSPECTIVE Understanding Place

‘Since all human action is infused with meaning, so the spaces we inhabit are also replete with symbolic values, collective memory, association, celebration and conflict.’16 – Cuthbert 2006 Buildings are designed to outlast the human beings that created them, and so act as visible remnants of the past and repositories of memory.17 We look to buildings and places to find an attachment to history and to understand those who preceded us in order that we might understand ourselves.18 Societies define themselves through their architecture possibly more than any other form of record; throughout history buildings and structures have been used repeatedly to convey fundamental messages about beliefs and values and to articulate information regarding the culture, wealth, power, and religious beliefs etc. of societies. As A. Cuthbert states in The Form of Cities ‘Urban design reflects how civilisations have chosen to represent themselves in spatial form’19, and so the built environment reflects an ideological history of the human species as it were, preserving the past and giving from to the duration of time.20

The physical manifestation of memory can be both intentional and unintentional, presenting itself in the ordinary and everyday just as much, if not more, as in the monumental and symbolic. Memory is deliberately manifested most commonly in buildings of cultural significance or specific commemorative value since these generally provide the most visible form of collective representation. Specific information is consciously articulated through the materials, form and scale of these buildings in order to reflect a particular image of a society and act as an expression of identity.

Alexander R Cuthbert, The form of cities : political economy and urban design,.

(Malden, Mass ; Oxford: Malden, Mass ; Oxford : Blackwell, 2006.) p. 1 17 Brian Ladd, The ghosts of Berlin : confronting German history in the urban landscape (Chicago, Ill. ; London: Chicago, Ill. ; London : University of Chicago Press, c1997.) p. 2 18 Alexander R Cuthbert, The form of cities : political economy and urban design,.

(Malden, Mass ; Oxford: Malden, Mass ; Oxford : Blackwell, 2006.) p. 2 19 Ibid. p. 1 20 Juhani Pallasmaa , ‘Space, Place, Memory and Imagination’ in Spatial recall : memory in architecture and landscape. (New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon: New York, NY : Abing16

13

Perhaps the most common expression of identity within any society is that of power and wealth, also commonly synonymous with political agenda. Over the centuries, no empire has been exempt from desperate endeavours to achieve immortalisation through the erection of monumental buildings in the hope of staking their claims on the history of mankind. The remaining structures of the ancient societies of Greece and Rome still stand as powerful examples of the physical representation of supremacy through sheer scale, axial arrangement and material detailing, leaving little doubt as to the superiority and ingenuity of the nations that built them. Indeed, we still regard these architectural styles as synonymous with the notion of power and continue to revisit and emulate their styles in the hope of embedding the same symbolic connotations within modern day architecture.

More than this, buildings such as these are indicative of the effects of power in relation to physical space and provide an illustration of how social, cultural and economic hierarchies are commonly transferred into the built environment.21 As David Harvey observed in Building change, ‘Dominant organisations make use of space hierarchically and symbolically. Sacred and profane structures are created, focal points emphasised, and space generally manipulated to reflect status and prestige.’22 The exercise of power is intimately linked with the control of physical space and as a result, the information embedded within place is done so in majority by the dominant. In this way, the built legacy of civilisations rarely reflects the understanding of identity in regards to the marginalised but often relates highly selective views of the past promoted by those with the power to exercise spatial agency.

Lisa Findley, Building change : architecture, politics and cultural agency. (London: London : Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group, 2005.) Pg. 9 22 Ibid. p. 8 21

14

Berlin offers a particularly good example of how an urban fabric has been utilised time and again to convey political values and ideals through physical representation and how space is commonly used as a means to exercise power and control. Over the years, successive regimes have each imposed their respective mark on the urban fabric, resulting in an incredibly unique environment composed of memory-laden buildings, ruins and voids. Today, the still sharply articulated difference between East and West continues to illustrate the extent to which government policies have dictated the urban language of the city as well as remaining a monument to the successive turmoil’s that it has experienced.

Any decision to destroy an old building or construct a new one carries immense significance and a burden of painful memories, presenting a constant struggle for Berliners to regain an understanding of their collective identity23 whilst coming to terms with their troubled past.

In many cases, the mnemonic value of buildings in Berlin has become the sole justification for their preservation. Some might say, even, that it has become a city of monuments and memorials, where architecture has begun to pursue memory and communication as its primary vocation. Often more evident than grand architectural gestures even, is the deliberate manifestation of memory by attempting to define buildings as metaphors for memory itself. While some buildings become vessels of memory as a result of circumstances surrounding them, others are purposefully designed to commemorate. Buildings such as cemeteries, museums and memorials often attempt to use certain architectural features in the hope of triggering emotional responses or feelings of reminiscence and nostalgia in order that they might serve as instruments for the process of recall.

Brian Ladd, The ghosts of Berlin : confronting German history in the urban landscape (Chicago, Ill. ; London: Chicago, Ill. ; London : University of Chicago Press, c1997.) Pg 3 23

15

Often, however, the attempt to define a space as symbolic of memory itself risks the outcome of the opposite result; instead making the space resistant to the attachment of memory. After all, ‘building a monument doesn’t make it a monument – for it to function as a monument, people must experience it as such’.24 Looking to Berlin once again, one might consider the architectural techniques employed by Libeskind in the Jewish museum as an expression of the commemoration crisis that arises from the attempt to purposefully cultivate mnemonic value within a building. In contrast to many museums, the architecture refuses to act as a blank canvas, instead cultivating a narration through space that does not aim to achieve figurative representation or iconographic symbolism, but tries to generate emotionally and psychologically disturbing effects of disorientation in museum visitors.25 The intention of the design is to invite reflection on the aestheticisation of memory and encourage visitors to engage not only on an emotional but also on a visceral level.26

Marc Treib, Spatial recall : memory in architecture and landscape. (New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon: New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon : Routledge, 2009.) Capt. 12 25 Silke Arnold-de simine, ‘Memory Museum and Museum text: Intermediality in Daniel Libeskind’s Jewish Museum and W.G Sebalds Austerlitz, Theory, culture and society, Vol. 29, (2012),< http://tcs.sagepub.com.eresources.shef.ac.uk/content/29/1/14.full. pdf+html pp.1>, [accessed 19, 02, 2016].

26 Ibid.

24

16

Fig. 4

A Blank Canvas

Fig. 3 The Aestheticisation of Memory

17

In this sense, one might argue that the manifestation of memory relies more on people’s experience of place than on physical representation. Structures need context to make them meaningful and as such, require human inhabitation to attain mnemonic value. As Gaston Bachelard states in his book The Poetics of Space ‘Inhabited space transcends geometric space’27, suggesting that meaning is cultivated by the activities that take place within a building, and not by the design or structure itself. In a similar way to humans, buildings begin with a clean slate, acquiring memory primarily as a result of the events that become rooted to that location. For this reason, one could argue that the majority of recollected knowledge is, in fact, embedded unintentionally within the built environment.28 More often it would seem, the beliefs, values and cultural practices of a society are indicated by the modest buildings created to accommodate daily routine, as opposed to monuments of historic importance. These buildings act as a backdrop to the vast majority of social life and so represent a form of cultural production29 that offers a truer reflection of communal value as understood by those without the ability to exercise spatial agency on a large scale.

Since buildings are naturally designed to accommodate specific activities, so they indicate the activities pursued by that society as well as the hierarchy given to their social practices. As Paul Jones states in The Sociology of Architecture, ‘it is the promise of architecture to reflect social values in tangible, material form.’30 One might consider the development of vernacular typologies as an illustration of this; not only are they a functional response to the social processes that they are intended to contain but they embody entire philosophies, ideologies, conceptual systems and cultural tastes. The respective religious buildings, places of entertainment, educational facilities and homes of different societies relate vast amounts of recollected knowledge despite the fact that they symbolise little of historical importance in the traditional sense. One might argue that they describe far more about the subtleties of a culture than its monuments and memorials, which symbolise historic value but constitute no part of daily routine and so encourage no attachment of communal value.

Gaston Bachelard, The poetics of space. New edition. (edn.: London : Penguin Classics, 2014.) p.

28 Marc Treib, Spatial recall : memory in architecture and landscape. (New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon: New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon : Routledge, 2009.) p. 4 29 Paul Jones, The sociology of architecture : constructing identities, (Liverpool: Liverpool : Liverpool University Press, 2011.) p. 1 30 Ibid. p. 5 27

18

An example of this can be found in the Hutongs of Beijing. Originally the traditional residences of Beijing’s working class, they sit within the shadow of the Imperial Palace, an iconic monument of power and cultural identity. Unlike the Palace, they were not consciously intended as places of cultural importance and yet they arguably communicate a far greater volume of information relating to collective memory by simply reflecting the image of life.31 As one article in the Architectural review described, ‘the Hutongs are more than just a physical structure, [they are a] social structure, representing a culture in itself.’32 Whilst the Forbidden City relates the history of the dominant, the Hutongs represent a far more intimate level of information that describes the everyday and celebrates the identity of the marginalised.

Fig. 5

The Image of Life

Juhani Pallasmaa , ‘Space, Place, Memory and Imagination’ in Spatial recall : memory in architecture and landscape. (New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon: New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon : Routledge, 2009.) P. 21 32 Manon Mollard, ‘Can the Hutongs be saved?’, The Architectural Review, <http:// www.architectural-review.com/rethink/can-the-hutongs-be-saved/8691119.article> , [accessed 31/ 03/ 2016] 31

19

In a similar way to the Hutongs, the Park Hill housing estate in Sheffield provides a particularly powerful illustration of the ability of place to act as a physical manifestation of collective memory. It demonstrates how architecture can be utilised as a deliberate representation of values and ideals and, perhaps more importantly, how memories may also become attached unintentionally over the passage of time.

The Park Hill that stands today is an iconic symbol of Sheffield’s identity and a physical representation of countless layers of meaning, association and memory.

Whilst some of these are expressed by the built form of the estate, many reside in a purely mental capacity, within the minds of those for whom Park Hill was once home. Currently in the first phase of redevelopment, the majority of the vast housing estate, consisting of 985 flats,33 stands empty and dilapidated and yet still provokes an incredibly powerful sense of the communal value and resonance of past events.

At its conception in 1957, Park Hill was highly symbolic of the utopian ideals of the post-war welfare state. Designed by the young and idealistic architects Jack Lynn and Ivor Smith, it offered a radical response to the run-down, crime-ridden housing stock of Sheffield and was regarded by early residents as a mark of new beginnings. The radical Brutalist style in which it was built was not merely aesthetic, but also an architectural manifestation of the new power that was felt by the country coming out of war-torn Britain and the increasing emphasis placed on left-wing socialist values.34 At the time, Reyner Banham, Brutalism’s chief propagandist, led a discussion on whether the term Brutalism was an ‘ethic or aesthetic’, so firmly marked was it by social concerns.35

Paul Dobraszczyk, ‘Sheffield’s Park Hill: the tangled reality of an extraordinary brutalist dream’, The Guardian, < http://www.theguardian.com/cities/2015/aug/14/ park-hill-brutalist-sheffield-estate-controversial-renovation>, [accessed 20/ 02/ 2016].

34 Josh Barrie, ‘Brutal Utopias: National Trust Launch Project Celebrating Brutalist Post-War Architecture’, The Independent, < http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/architecture/brutal-utopias-national-trust-launch-project-celebrating-brutalist-post-war-architecture-10488900.html>, [accessed 20, 02, 2016] 35 Owen Hatherley, A guide to the new ruins of Great Britain,. (Paperback ed. edn. London ; New York: London ; New York : Verso, 2011.) p. 89 33

20

Fig. 6

A Brutalist Utopia

21

Above all, the design of park Hill was an embodiment of the desire to ‘create a building more concerned with life than architecture’.36 The concept of the estate was centred on the establishment of strong community – whole streets from the post war slums were rehoused in the same order of neighbours, for example, whilst shops, pubs, nurseries and playgrounds were all integrated within the design. Inspired by Le Corbusier’s Unite D’habitation, the architects based the layout on a system of deck access that began at ground level and could be traversed without the use of stairs around the entire estate; a novel concept that was iconically termed ‘streets in the sky’.37 These streets were envisaged as places where people could mingle and children could play and, most iconically, where milk could still be delivered to the door by floats that were able to traverse the decks.38 In the early years of Park Hill’s life these ideals appeared to generate a successful model of social housing with many residents praising the flats and the design of the estate. In 1962 the development was voted ‘top of the North’ in the ministry of housing design competitions while the documentary Romancing the Stone stated ‘there is no stopping this collective thinking, it’s the future.’39

Ibid. p. 93 National Trust tour guide information pack 38 Andrew Saint and Architectural Association, Park Hill : what next?, (London: London : Architectural Association, 1996.) p. 30 39 Owen Hatherley, A guide to the new ruins of Great Britain,. (Paperback ed. edn. London ; New York: London ; New York : Verso, 2011.) p. 91 36 37

22

Fig. 7

Streets in The Sky

23

This spatial manifestation of the welfare state was soon to become the very symbol of its failure however; the values and ideals that the architects had so consciously intended the estate to embody were to become instead symbolic of social decay and crime. As housing policy and social values changed, the estate slowly slid into demise, surrounded by stigma. The iconic ‘streets in the sky’ caused the very problems that they had hoped to prevent; providing a perfect environment for anti-social behaviour, drug dealing and crime. Meanwhile, public opinion became increasingly negative toward Park Hill, illustrated by the relentless campaign waged against the estate by the Star Newspaper, for whom Park Hill conflated ugliness, drug abuse and family breakdown in a single vision of concrete horror.40

The powerful stigma that continues to cling to the image of Park Hill today illustrates the reality that meaning is often more powerfully cultivated through the inhabitation of a building and, as a result, may bear little relationship to its physical fabric or that which it was originally intended to symbolise. As Jeremy Till states, ‘People are not abstractions. They do not submit to the reason of functionalism; they have emotions, lives, accidents, and politics. The space of abstraction cannot accommodate the spatiality of being.’41 Above all, the collective memory of the Park Hill resides in the associations and stories that have become linked to it and the shared experiences which have served to generate a deeper communal attachment. Even in its uninhabitable state, it forms an essential basis of reference within the community and a tangible connection to the past that bears little reference to its physical form. Like so many cherished places found within communities, the value of Park Hill transcends commercial worth or historic value, existing rather in the less tangible realm of personal and collective association.

Jeremy Till, ‘Modernity and order: Architecture and the Welfare State’, Autonomy in Architecture, <https://jeremytill.s3.amazonaws.com/uploads/post/attachment/35/2006_ Modernity_and_Order.pdf>, [accessed 10/ 01/ 2016].

41 Ibid 40

24

â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;Inhabitation transcends geometric formâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; Gaston Bachelard

25

PART 2 THE PRESENT Inhabiting Place

‘We understand and remember who we are through our constructions, both material and mental.’42 - Juhani Pallasmaa We are constantly surrounded by the recollected knowledge that is conveyed through the built environment from past to present. This knowledge forms a basis of shared memory and a point of reference for understanding who we are. Our experience of the present is directly dependent on this understanding of the past, which we access and absorb both consciously and subconsciously through the inhabitation of space. This process of inhabitation, which constitutes a large part of the simplest daily routine, involves far more complexity than we are generally aware of. As we inhabit space we do not merely occupy it but simultaneously respond to that which it expresses, so engaging with it in a constant exchange. Le Corbusier, the prolific pioneer of modern architecture, spoke of the inhabitation of space as an action intimately connected to the exercise of individual liberty, suggesting that the experience of space is in fact one of life’s most essential modes of existence.43 In The Production of Space, Henri Lefebrve significantly widened the discussion surrounding ‘space’ by directly relating non-physical ideas and social constructions to its production.44 In this respect, one might say that just as a greater amount of memory is manifested in a non-physical sense, so it is through our inhabitation of the existential space of a building by which we are able to form a deeper understanding of these non-physical ideas and intangible values that it relates. Although architects do not often see their work as emotive, it is rarely aesthetics which defines the significance of space, but rather an understanding of the non-physical.45 The mental architecture of a building, as it were, conveys less tangible information but rather feelings and senses that are more difficult to define but are often far more powerful and complex. We absorb this information largely subconsciously, commonly forming impressions or feelings about a place without necessarily understanding why.

Juhani Pallasmaa , ‘Space, Place, Memory and Imagination’ in Spatial recall : memory in architecture and landscape. (New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon: New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon : Routledge, 2009.) p.17 43 Lisa Findley, Building change : architecture, politics and cultural agency, (London: London : Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group, 2005.) p. 5 44 Henri Lefebvre, The production of space, (Malden, MA: Malden, MA : Blackwell, 1991.)

45 Marc Treib, Spatial recall : memory in architecture and landscape. (New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon: New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon : Routledge, 2009.) p. 27 42

27

One might regard the common sentimentality toward ruins as an indication of this deeper experience and understanding of place. From a decaying structure one can discern a limited amount of factual information, and yet ruins are particularly memory laden and highly charged with emotional meaning. The reflection of human life remains embedded within the crumbling walls, provoking us to reminisce and imagine. Despite the fact that it no longer fulfils a function, the building has not lost its value as a mnemonic record. Quite the opposite, in fact; for ruins are commonly sought out and admired. As Thomas Whately wrote in 1770, â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;A monument of antiquity is never seen with indifference.â&#x20AC;&#x2122;46 Fountains Abbey in North Yorkshire provides a particularly good example of the romanticism that is so often attached to these remnants of the past. Originally established by Benedictine monks, the Abbey was left to decay after the dissolution of the monasteries in 1539 and was later purchased by William Aislabie who incorporated the abbey ruins into his parkland, intending it to be a picturesque and fashionable garden feature.47 Such was the romanticism that Aislabie felt the ruin embodied, that he further demolished some features and embellished others in order to emphasise the powerful sense of memory and emotion conveyed by the decaying structure.

Fig. 9 Romantic Notions Rose Macaulay, Pleasure of ruins, (London: London : Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1953.) p. 1 47 David Ross, Fountains Abbey, Britain Express, <http://www.britainexpress.com/counties/yorkshire/abbeys/fountains.htm>, [accessed 26, 02, 2016].

46

28

It is, above all, this three dimensionality and ability to convey incredibly complex information that makes architecture so unique in its capacity as a mnemonic device. Unlike any other form, it is immersive and engaging in nature and, most importantly, it does not remain static but acts as a continuum that gradually evolves as memories are added and subtracted by individuals and collectives.

Through our inhabitation of space we do not only gain knowledge and understanding of the past, but constantly transform it to reflect our own understanding of the present. As a result, the meanings that become attached to it are not necessarily fixed but remain fluid and susceptible to change. Even symbolic gestures designated to convey specific messages may succumb to the evolution of meaning as various factors or events may inadvertently make it symbolic of something else.

In the case of Park Hill for instance, the iconic â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;I love you will you marry meâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; sign stands to illustrate this. Originally scrawled across a connecting bridge in white spray paint; a drug addicts graffiti, considered romantic by some, a sign of social decay by others, it now represents the marketing slogan of luxury apartment developers Urban Splash, outlined it in neon lights to provide a constant reminder of Park Hillâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s transformation. As time passes, successive generations inhabit places in different ways, recording their own experiences and rooting them in place so that countless layers of memory become embedded within one form. As new memories are created, others are forgotten, so creating a perpetual process of give and take between the collective and the environment.

29

Fig. 10

The Evolution of Meaning

30

The loss of information is not only inevitable but arguably a necessary part of the continuum. After all, this is what differentiates cities from museums; as Adrian Forty states, ‘to forget is essential – no individual or collective can afford to remember everything.’48 For this reason, the destruction of buildings can be equally as symbolic as their construction, conveying powerful messages of beliefs and values in much the same way. One could argue, in fact, that the collective is shaped as much by what it has chosen to forget as by what it remembers.

The recent attacks on ancient heritage conducted by the extremist movement ISIS in the Middle East provides a contemporary example of the destruction of physical representations of ideology as a means of manifesting beliefs, in this case religious. The attacks, described as ‘a form of place-based violence that aims to annihilate the local sense of belonging and the collective sense of memory among local communities, to whom the heritage belongs’49, simultaneously aim to obliterate one version of the past whilst manifesting another. The pain we feel at the sight of this destruction illustrates the importance of these buildings as symbols of culture and heritage and a basis on which a society forms an understanding of themselves. It further demonstrates how important the constant emotional exchange between a society and buildings such as these is and how they affect our experience of the present. In The Art of Forgetting, Forty states that ‘You begin to liquidate a people by taking away its memory’50, giving further support to Corbusier’s argument that to prevent the access and interaction of a collective or individual with meaningful space is to rob them of a most essential part of human existence.

Adrian Forty and Susanne Küchler, The Art of forgetting. (Oxford: Oxford : Berg, 1999.) p. 1 49 Ömür Harmanşah, ‘ISIS, Heritage, and the Spectacles of Destruction in the Global Media’, Near Eastern Archaeology, Vol.78, No.3, (2015), <http://doi.org/10.5615/ neareastarch.78.3.0170>, [accessed 01/ 04/ 2016], pp. 170–177 50 Adrian Forty and Susanne Küchler, The Art of forgetting. (Oxford: Oxford : Berg, 1999.) p. 1 48

31

These ideas can once again be illustrated through the study of Park Hill which provides a poignant example of how place commonly embodies multiple, even contrasting, layers of memory and association with the ability to communicate them in a non-physical manner. As a result of its turbulent history, the estate has undergone an almost complete cycle of perception, subject to two parallel histories. Public opinion surrounding the Park Hill remains widely contrasted and juxtaposed, divided between those who regard it as an icon and those, an eyesore.51 Different versions of events full of anecdote, gossip and populism have created one glorified image and another demonised.52 Whilst many still regard the estate as a ‘horror’ and ‘a gigantic failure’53, the Grade II listing of Park Hill and its redevelopment has attracted increasing support for the building. Indeed, recent media coverage has uncovered abundant evidence of nostalgia and fond memories surrounding the estate that call into question its previous stigmatisation. These varying layers of association bear little relationship to the physical appearance of the building or to the ideals that the design originally intended to embody and yet, whether positive or negative, they give immense communal value to the housing estate and distinguish it as a source of collective identity and distinctiveness for the people of Sheffield.

Since its demise, Park Hill has not remained static, as something banished to the past, but continues to be a constantly evolving part of Sheffield’s urban fabric.

Even in its largely uninhabited current state, the building remains both a physical and psychological archive of social memory and an iconic piece of Sheffield’s collective identity. It continues to be an interactive part of many people’s daily environment and as such, its meanings and significance remain fluid and susceptible to change. The listing of the building in 1998, although controversial, was a highly symbolic marker in the mnemonic ‘continuum’ of Park Hill. It beckoned a new era for the building and illustrated the communal value it still held despite stigma and physical decay.

Owen Hatherley, A guide to the new ruins of Great Britain,. (Paperback ed. edn. London ; New York: London ; New York : Verso, 2011.) Pp. 87 52 Ibid.

53 Oliver Hill, The stigmatisation of Park Hill : fifty years of local media coverage between 1953-2003. (Thesis (M.A. Town and regional Planning), University of Sheffield, Department of Town and Regional Planning, 2014.)

51

32

In 2004, the property developer Urban Splash and Sheffield City council took on the challenge of regenerating the estate; a massive undertaking with the intention of transforming the appearance of the building and more controversially, of overcoming the negative associations that many consider to surround it.

Whilst the initial phase of regeneration demonstrates dedication to the conservation of the iconic architecture, focusing on the repair of the concrete frame and reinterpretation of the original façade, many of the modifications appear a direct repudiation of the Brutalist ideals which lie at the heart of the estate.54 For example, despite the fact that the colourful anodised aluminium panels replicate the coloured brick tones of the original façade and emphasise the modular structure,55 they simultaneously abandon any truth to materiality and so disregard the very definition of the brutalist style. Meanwhile, the new scheme proposes gating to separate the ‘streets in the sky’ from the real streets of the surrounding area, ‘finally settling the question about whether they were ever real streets at all in the negative.’56 In a similar way to the calculated destruction of monuments of cultural importance, one might suggest that Urban Splash are attempting to erase the memory relating to what they deem as unattractive and unsuccessful about Park Hill in an attempt to redefine it in a way that best suits the image they wish to promote.

Whilst these modifications might arguably be said to represent an inevitable loss of information and a necessary transformation that marks the natural progression of time, they also call into question who and what should dictate which elements of memory are preserved and which are forgotten. At the same time, one is also led to question whether memory and association, once manifested, can ever be truly overcome, or rather, do they just become buried within the fabric, still informing the existential space?

Owen Hatherley, A guide to the new ruins of Great Britain,. (Paperback ed. edn. London ; New York: London ; New York : Verso, 2011.) p. 99 55 Urban Splash, ‘Park Hill Sheffield, Building Conservation, <http://www.urbansplash. co.uk/documents/PARK_BuildingConservation.pdf>, [accessed 24, 02, 2016].

56 Owen Hatherley, A guide to the new ruins of Great Britain,. (Paperback ed. edn. London ; New York: London ; New York : Verso, 2011.) p. 99 54

33

Fig. 11

Out With The Old

Fig. 12

In With The New

34

Whilst change is not only inevitable but also necessary, the preservation of social memory arguably does not rely on physical conservation but on the understanding of space in terms of human life and experience. As Malcolm Reading, emphasised recently in The Times: ‘These fragile buildings and sites need more than architectural skills to effect a transformation ...Restoring crumbling façades, which is the emotive reaction, is not enough…’57 In recognition of a similar struggle faced by the East London housing estate of Haggerston , David Roberts conducted a study into the history and future of the estate which attempted to ‘make visible problematic processes of urban change that are increasingly hidden from public view under the pervasive metaphor of regeneration.’58 His research involved residents re-enacting the histories of each estate in order to build collective knowledge and experience illustrating that, just as in the case of Park Hill, the communal value of the estate lay above all within the memories of the residents, and as such, its preservation as a source of identity was reliant on this recognition.

Deborah Lazarus, ‘Prioritising Cultural Heritage’, ARUP thoughts, <http://thoughts.arup. com/post/details/490/prioritising-cultural-heritage>, [accessed 20, 02, 2016] 58 David Roberts, ‘Make public: Performing the pursuit of public housing, ‘The Bartlett School of Architecture’, <https://www.ucl.ac.uk/silva/bartlett/architecture/programmes/ mphil-phd-studentwork/david-roberts>, [accessed 28/03/2015] 57

35

PART 3 THE PROPOSITIONAL Transforming Place

‘Taking possession of space is the first gesture of living things, of men and animals, of plants and clouds, a fundamental manifestation of equilibrium and duration. The occupation of space is the first proof of existence.’59 - Le Corbusier, 1948 More than just interpreting knowledge of the past and responding accordingly through inhabitation, we take possession of space and project ourselves into the future of our built environment. We determinedly leave our own mark and stake our own claims on our surroundings in the hope that future generations might, in turn, remember us. Just as those before us reflected their beliefs and values through their buildings, we build to reflect our own, conscious that what we build today will be our future heritage.60 This projection of meaning and significance into our environment suggests that it is something deep within human nature to embed memory in tangible form. More than just a longing to be remembered beyond a human lifespan, it appears an inbuilt desire to externalise memory and emotion and to share our understanding of the world with one another through the projection of our inner existences into everything we encounter.

We construct physiological environments within the places that we inhabit in order to create meaningful existences outside the body61 and as such we use space as a means of representation. This representation can happen at multiple scales; from the level of the body, through the arrangement of personal objects in a room for example, to the much wider context of the environment, extending to urban planning and treatment of the landscape.62 In this sense, individual representation through the inhabitation of space becomes something intimately connected to the exercise of personal liberty and the concept of spatial agency.63 In The Right to the City, David Harvey suggests that we transform our environments after the desires of our hearts and as such our environments are a direct reflection of our inner selves. He goes on to argue that, therefore, the freedom to transform our environment and as such ourselves is one of the most precious of human rights, and also one of the most neglected.64 Lisa Findley, Building change : architecture, politics and cultural agency, (London: London : Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group, 2005.) p. 5 60 Farrells, ‘Cultural Heritage’, The Farrell Review, < http://www.farrellreview.co.uk/explore/cultural-heritage/3A.1>, [accessed 02, 02, 2016].

61 Marc Treib, Spatial recall : memory in architecture and landscape. (New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon: New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon : Routledge, 2009.) p. 26 62 Lisa Findley, Building change : architecture, politics and cultural agency, (London: London : Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group, 2005.) p. 6 63 Ibid. p. 5 64 David Harvey, ‘The Right to the City’, New Left Review, Vol. 53, (2008) <http://davidharvey.org/media/righttothecity.pdf>, [accessed 01, 04, 2016] 59

37

Although this understanding undoubtedly rings true principle, to allow absolute freedom in regards to the transformation of space in reality presents far greater complexities. How we transform the built environment and the scale of alteration that we impose upon it is often a widely contested topic of debate; should we preserve and safeguard the old or embrace the new? If a building is to be inhabited, it is arguably impossible for it to remain static; after all, any level of inhabitation contributes, in however small a measure, to the narrative of that space.

At the same time, however, the protection and conservation of buildings constitutes a vital part of recognising and celebrating cultural heritage. In this way, we are constantly faced with the challenge of maintaining a balance between past and present; between remembering and forgetting.

This is particularly poignant in the cases of monuments and buildings of historical importance and calls into question the place of architectural discourse in regards to the maintenance of this delicate connection between past, present and future. How do we choose what is remembered and what is forgotten and who should be responsible for this decision? Should this be the role of the architect or should it be a decision for the collective? In recent years, the topic of ‘heritage’ has gained widespread public interest and has become increasingly recognised as a vital part of both national and community identity.65 In 2013, the Farrell Review – an independent report investigating how the quality of UK architecture can be improved – surmised that ‘The process through which buildings are listed should be made less academic and more open, transparent and democratic. The value of our building stock is no longer just historical or architectural, it makes a major contribution to our collective memory and we should all have a say in what is listed.’66

Tim Benton, Understanding heritage and memory. (Manchester: Manchester : Manchester University Press, c2010.) Preface 66 Farrells, ‘Cultural Heritage’, The Farrell Review, < http://www.farrellreview.co.uk/explore/cultural-heritage/3A.1>, [accessed 02, 02, 2016].

65

38

The consensus that existed in many professional circles in the 1960’s that historic values must be preserved at all costs, is gradually being replaced by the increasing recognition now being given to the role of memory in identifying what is important within a society.67 As Tim Benton states in Understanding Heritage and Memory, ‘It is increasingly recognised that the driving force in motivating heritage conservation comes from what people think, feel and do (intangible heritage) rather than from the tangible remains of the past.’68 This proposes an understanding of conservation not as a treatment of the past but as an approach to the future, challenging the common misconception that the term describes the preservation of buildings in their original state, safeguarded from change and the advances of time. Not only is this impossible – for structures are by no means immune to the effects of ageing – but a misrepresentation of what it should mean to conserve, as opposed to preserve.

The fluidity of the built environment is the very thing that makes it so unique as a mnemonic device and it is this that should be celebrated. In conversation with Paul Richold, a partner of architectural practice Architecton, he described his understanding of conservation as the creation of a dialogue between old and new - a process of making a judgement that considers all the facts of the building in order to achieve a response that does not build without reason or logic but savours, explains and compliments that which the building expresses. In this way, the building is understood as a hinge; a connection between the retrospective and the propositional so that just as the past informs the present, so it provides a context within which the present informs the future.

Tim Benton, Understanding heritage and memory. (Manchester: Manchester : Manchester University Press, c2010.) p 1.

68 Ibid. p. 1 67

39

This new attitude toward an understanding of conservation within the built environment as something intimately linked with collective identity is arguably largely responsible for the rescue of Park Hill from the fate experienced by so many other brutalist housing estates. An increasing amount of people no longer feel that conservation should be applied only to historic buildings but also to those of the recent past, not necessarily yet recognised as important parts of our heritage.

Although some would argue that the failure of Park Hill provides adequate motive for its destruction, as Elain Harwood pointed out ‘No one is going to do Park Hill again and that’s what makes it so special.’69 The significance of the estate as an icon of both brutalist architecture and of Sheffield’s collective identity is gaining increasingly widespread recognition, indicated by the gradually evolving plans that are to define the next phase in the continuum of the estate. The poignant question posed by Jeremy Till asking, ‘What is to be done with this powerful, problematic, yet memorable and by no means unloved housing estate, lowering from its hilltop over the city of Sheffield?’70 echoes the thoughts of many who feel a deep affinity for this battered, yet still imposing old giant.

The first phase of regeneration now close to completion, the future of the remaining flats continues to be ambiguous and somewhat contentious. Whilst many are happy to see the creation of more luxury flats that will, as Urban Splash have promised, ‘transform the place from a sink estate into a place where people would want to live and invest’71, others are less optimistic about the outcome of the somewhat patronising approach to heritage and property that appears to have been adopted.

Elain Harwood, ‘Space, Hope and Brutalism’, (SUAS Lecture, University of Sheffield, 17/03/2016) 70 Andrew Saint and Architectural Association, Park Hill : what next?, (London: London : Architectural Association, 1996.) p. 7 71 Owen Hatherley, A guide to the new ruins of Great Britain,. (Paperback ed. edn. London ; New York: London ; New York : Verso, 2011.) p. 98 69

40

Fig. 14

A Celebration of Brutalist Architecture

41

In some respects, it would seem that the developers appear to be making substantial efforts to ensure the future success of the estate by involving other organisations such as S1 art space and the national trust in order to diversify and attract a broader range of public interest and involvement. Although perhaps limited, these efforts demonstrate a recognition of the historic and communal value within Park Hill whilst attempting to give them a place within its future. Sadly, however, for many the transformation of the estate stands as an overwhelming reminder of the dreams of a Socialist republic of South Yorkshire for which it once stood, now replaced by a gentrified version that claims to offer a better solution. In The New Ruins of Great Britain, Owen Hatherley offers the morbid prediction that ‘although it is unclear what Park Hill will become in the next few years, it’s abundantly clear that here, the ideologies of regeneration and heritage, when applied to the very different ethical aesthetic of the old New Brutalism, can only destroy the thing they claim to love.’72 In this sense, one might argue that Urban Splashs’ approach to conservation remains limited to a physical understanding of the value of Park Hill as opposed to an ideological one and as a result may stand to compromise that which defines it.

Owen Hatherley, A guide to the new ruins of Great Britain,. (Paperback ed. edn. London ; New York: London ; New York : Verso, 2011.) p. 100 72

42

Regardless of how one perceives the transformation of the estate, however, it cannot be denied that change is inevitable. As powerful as age value may be, a building cannot remain relevant and meaningful within a social context if it is not subject to the changes allowed by inhabitation. As the flats become inhabited once more and acquire new memories and associations over the passage of time, so Park Hill will enter into yet another phase of its continuum. Just as this transformation may remove it further from that which it was originally intended to symbolise, so the natural accumulation of new meaning may well remove it from that which Urban Splash intend it to represent.

Whilst the physical changes imposed upon the estate will be largely determined by the developers, as time passes the decisions to be made about what is remembered and what is forgotten will be dictated to a greater extent by the collective. As Tim Benton states â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;Whereas historic and aesthetic values tend to be controlled by professionals, assessment of communal value resides in the opinions and feelings of members of the public.â&#x20AC;&#x2122;73 Ultimately, what makes Park Hill such a rich mnemonic device is not its architectural structure or design, but the deeply felt emotional ties and associations that it has acquired and sustained and, as such, its future will not be determined by aesthetic modifications or structural interventions but by the collective whoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s lives and memories it represents in concrete form.

Tim Benton, Understanding heritage and memory. (Manchester: Manchester : Manchester University Press, c2010.) p. 8 73

43

PAST - PRESENT - FUTURE An Architectural Continuum

44

CONCLUSION Above all, the conclusions that I draw from this study are centred on the understanding that, whether in a physical or emotional sense, place undoubtedly acts as a fundamental source from which groups of people draw their identity and understanding of the world around them. Through the built environment, the collective is able to both interpret knowledge of the past in relation to the present whilst projecting information regarding the present into the future. As such, place becomes a method of communication, or language as it were, between past, present and future that hinges, above all, on collective memory.

The significance of place in regards to the collective is far more difficult to define in terms of intangible value, and yet, through my investigation and the study of examples such as the Chinese Hutongs and Fountains Abbey, I am led to believe that it is more often through the accidental and the unintentional that memory is most effectively embedded in form and that it is through the subconscious that it is most powerfully communicated. As such, it is my belief that what we are able to discern from the evidential or historic value of place often has far less to offer in regards to forming a deeper understanding of the beliefs and values that are manifested within it and the way in which it defines and makes distinct a society or collective.

The ability of place to reflect mental and temporal realities as well as spatial and material ones74 is what distinguishes it as perhaps the most important externalisation of human memory. As illustrated by Park Hill’s ‘I love U will you marry me’ sign, it acts as a continuum that constantly changes and evolves over time, allowing meaning and association to remain fluid and susceptible to change.

Unlike any other mnemonic device, architecture allows memories to be constantly added and subtracted so that, just we experience and interpret it, we simultaneously alter and transform it to reflect our inner selves. One might say that it is, above all, this perpetual exchange that takes place between the individual, the collective and the environment that essentially generates such a close relationship between people and place.

Juhani Pallasmaa , ‘Space, Place, Memory and Imagination’ in Spatial recall : memory in architecture and landscape. (New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon: New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon : Routledge, 2009.) p.17 74

45

The understanding of this relationship between the collective and place has the potential to play an important role, both within architectural discourse and as an integral part of the heritage debate. The recognition of the political implications surrounding spatial agency and collective identity highlights the importance of empowering individuals to act with spatial freewill and provides the architect with the potential to act as an agent of social change.â&#x20AC;&#x2122;75 In the same way, I would argue that the value of place should not be something defined by professionals, based on historic or aesthetic values, but should reside in the opinions and feelings of the community.76 The study of Park Hill provides a unique illustration of these ideas and offers a perfect opportunity to which they might, in theory, be applied. In the same way that the understanding of place, whether applied to a larger or smaller context, requires the recognition of both the tangible and intangible values that it represents, so the transformation of Park Hill demands a deeper understanding of more than just formal qualities relating to its physical value. This presents a challenge for both the developers and the people of Sheffield in determining what is remembered and what is forgotten whilst ensuring that the estate remains relevant and meaningful within the context of the community. In this sense, Park Hill must tackle the bigger challenge faced by the built environment as a whole; that of maintaining the somewhat precarious balance between past, present and future.

Lisa Findley, Building change : architecture, politics and cultural agency, (London: London : Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group, 2005.) p. 33 76 Tim Benton, Understanding heritage and memory. (Manchester: Manchester : Manchester University Press, c2010.) p. 8 75

46

The understanding of the value of place and its treatment is increasingly reflected in the ever expanding discussion surrounding this topic. Just as the built environment does not remain static, so the way in which we perceive our relationship with it and understand how we must treat it changes and evolves over time. As Tim Benton states, â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;Searching for a sense of identity and belonging in the world around us, past and present, is likely to remain an abiding interest in the future, but the ways we rehearse and perform this quest are likely to change substantially as our interests evolve.â&#x20AC;&#x2122;77 Whilst this study offers just one interpretation of the relationship between architecture and collective memory, the many ideas that surround this extensive and fast evolving subject offer an infinite amount of insights that may serve to change the way we understand both ourselves and our environment. Like anything fluid in nature, the place of memory within the built environment is as difficult to predict as it is to define. Whilst this brief investigation into the world of construction, both material and mental, has provided me with perhaps more questions than answers, it offers an insight into the just some of the complexities surrounding the concepts of people and place, and so provides a starting point for the further development of these ideas and their application to future architectural discourse.

Tim Benton, Understanding heritage and memory. (Manchester: Manchester : Manchester University Press, c2010.) p. 5 77

47

BIBLIOGRAPHY BOOKS Bachelard, Gaston, The poetics of space. New edition. (edn.: London : Penguin Classics, 2014.)

Benton, Tim, Understanding heritage and memory. (Manchester: Manchester : Manchester University Press, c2010.)

Connerton, Paul, How societies remember. (Cambridge: Cambridge : Cambridge University Press, 1989).

Cuthbert, Alexander R, The form of cities : political economy and urban design,.

(Malden, Mass ; Oxford: Malden, Mass ; Oxford : Blackwell, 2006).

Drury, Paul, McPherson, Anne and English Heritage, Conservation principles : policies and guidance for the sustainable management of the historic environmen,.

(London: London : English Heritage, 2008.)

Findley, Lisa, Building change : architecture, politics and cultural agency, (London: London : Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group, 2005.

Forty, Adrian and KuĚ&#x2C6;chler, Susanne, The Art of forgetting. (Oxford: Oxford : Berg, 1999.

Hatherley, Owen, A guide to the new ruins of Great Britain,. (Paperback ed. edn.

London ; New York: London ; New York : Verso, 2011.)

Hill, Oliver, The stigmatisation of Park Hill : fifty years of local media coverage between 1953-2003. (Thesis (M.A. Town and regional Planning), University of Sheffield, Department of Town and Regional Planning, 2014).

Jones, Paul, The sociology of architecture : constructing identities, (Liverpool: Liverpool : Liverpool University Press, 2011.)

48

Ladd, Brian, The ghosts of Berlin : confronting German history in the urban landscape (Chicago, Ill. ; London: Chicago, Ill. ; London : University of Chicago Press, c1997).

Lefebvre, Henri, The production of space, (Malden, MA: Malden, MA : Blackwell, 1991.)

Macaulay, Rose, Pleasure of ruins, (London: London : Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1953).

Saint, Andrew and Architectural Association, Park Hill : what next?, (London: London : Architectural Association, 1996.)

Sheffield Housing Development, C. (1962) Ten years of housing in Sheffield = Le logement a Sheffield durant dix ans = Desyat’ let zhilishchnogo stroitel’stva goroda Sheffil’d (Sheffield). Logement a Sheffield durant dix ans ((Sheffield): Sheffield : City Architect’s Department, 1962).

Treib, Marc, Spatial recall : memory in architecture and landscape. (New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon: New York, NY : Abingdon, Oxon : Routledge, 2009).

LECTURES Elain Harwood, ‘Space, Hope and Brutalism’, (SUAS Lecture, University of Sheffield, 17/03/2016)

ELECTRONIC JOURNALS Harmanşah, O, ‘ISIS, Heritage, and the Spectacles of Destruction in the Global Media’, Near Eastern Archaeology, Vol.78, No.3, (2015), <http://doi. org/10.5615/neareastarch.78.3.0170>, [accessed 01/ 04/ 2016], p. 170– 177 Harvey, D, ‘The Right to the City’, New Left Review, Vol. 53, (2008) <http://davidharvey.org/media/righttothecity.pdf>, [accessed 01, 04, 2016]

49

WEB PAGES Arnold-de simine, Silke, ‘Memory Museum and Museum text: Intermediality in Daniel Libeskind’s Jewish Museum and W.G Sebalds Austerlitz, Theory, culture and society, Vol. 29, (2012),< http://tcs.sagepub.com.eresources.shef.ac.uk/content/29/1/14.full.pdf+html pp.1>, [accessed 19,02,16].

Barrie, Josh, ‘Brutal Utopias: National Trust Launch Project Celebrating Brutalist Post-War Architecture’, The Independent, < http://www.independent.co.uk/ arts-entertainment/architecture/brutal-utopias-national-trust-launch-project-celebrating-brutalist-post-war-architecture-10488900.html>, [accessed 20, 02, 2016].

Brown, Mark, ‘Concrete Plans: Brutalist Buildings to be Celebrated in National Trust Tours’, The Guardian, <http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2015/ sep/07/concrete-plans-brutalist-buildings-to-be-celebrated-in-national-trusttours>, [accessed 27, 02, 2016].

Dobraszczyk, Paul, ‘Sheffield’s Park Hill: the tangled reality of an extraordinary brutalist dream’, The Guardian, < http://www.theguardian.com/cities/2015/ aug/14/park-hill-brutalist-sheffield-estate-controversial-renovation>, [accessed 20, 02, 2016].

Farrells, ‘Cultural Heritage’, The Farrell Review, < http://www.farrellreview. co.uk/explore/cultural-heritage/3A.1>, [accessed 02, 02, 2016].

Lazarus, Deborah, ‘Prioritising Cultural Heritage’, ARUP thoughts, <http:// thoughts.arup.com/post/details/490/prioritising-cultural-heritage>, [accessed 20, 02, 2016].

Mollard, Manon, ‘Can the Hutongs be saved?’, The Architectural Review, <http:// www.architectural-review.com/rethink/can-the-hutongs-be-saved/8691119. article> , [accessed 31/ 03/ 2016].

50

Roberts, David, ‘Make public: Performing the pursuit of public housing, ‘The Bartlett School of Architecture’, <https://www.ucl.ac.uk/silva/bartlett/architecture/ programmes/mphil-phd-studentwork/david-roberts>, [accessed 28/03/2015].

Ross, David, Fountains Abbey, Britain Express, <http://www.britainexpress.com/ counties/yorkshire/abbeys/fountains.htm>, [accessed 26, 02, 2016].

Till, Jeremy, ‘Modernity and order: Architecture and the Welfare State’, Autonomy in Architecture, <https://jeremytill.s3.amazonaws.com/uploads/post/attachment/35/2006_Modernity_and_Order.pdf>, [accessed 10, 01, 2016].

Urban Splash, ‘Park Hill Sheffield, Building Conservation, <http://www.urbansplash.co.uk/documents/PARK_BuildingConservation.pdf>, [accessed 24, 02, 2016].

51

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Fig. 1 https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/18/Park_Hill_facade.jpg [accessed 01/04/2016] Fig. 2 https://www.architecture.com/Explore/Revealingthecollections/ParkHillEstate1963.aspx [accessed 03/04/2016] Fig. 3 https://uk.pinterest.com/explore/jewish-museum/ [accessed 03/04/2016] Fig. 4 https://www.behance.net/gallery/189234/The-Jewish-Museum-Berlin [accessed 03/04/2016] Fig. 5 http://1000daysbetween.com/gallery/rest/data/23140?size=resize [accessed 03/04/2016] Fig. 6 https://www.architecture.com/image-library/imagecache/galleryitems/41097.1.434.434.FFFFFF.jpeg [accessed 04/04/2016] Fig. 7 http://dip9.aaschool.ac.uk/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/milkfloat.jpg [accessed 04/04/2016] Fig. 8 http://ichef-1.bbci.co.uk/news/624/media/images/69823000/ jpg/_69823490_1360_n33038.jpg [accessed 03/04/2016] Fig. 9 http://static.gransnet.com/cms/uploads/GN_Images/content/life-andstyle/all_shutterstock_Fountains_Abbey.jpg [accessed 03/04/2016] Fig. 10 http://www.architectsjournal.co.uk/Pictures/web/u/t/o/Park_Hill_ KC_2011_02_380.jpg [accessed 03/04/2016] Fig. 11 http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-guBUi4G5oA8/U4CFoaWEdrI/AAAAAAAABOU/mJrHow0DHus/s1600/DSC03249.JPG [accessed 04/04/2016] Fig. 12 http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Observer/Columnist/Columnists/2011/8/19/1313759938767/Park-Hill-Estate-001.jpg [accessed 04/04/2016]

52

Fig. 13 http://81.47.175.201/livingrail/images/stories/sheffield8.jpg [accessed 03/04/2016] Fig. 14 https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CS6R29HXIAEM98p.jpg [accessed 04/04/2016]

53