Design and Heritage

The Construction of Identity and Belonging

Grace Lees-Maffei, Rebecca Houze, Grace Lees-Maffei, Rebecca Houze

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2021
• ISBN:
  9781000528794
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Art
• Subtopic: Museum Studies

Design and Heritage provides the first extended study of heritage from the point of view of design history. Exploring the material objects and spaces that contribute to our experience of heritage, the volume also examines the processes and practices that shape them.

Bringing together 18 case studies, written by authors from the United States, the United Kingdom, Canada, Brazil, Norway, India, South Africa, Australia and New Zealand, the book questions how design functions to produce heritage. Including provocative case studies of objects that reinterpret visual symbols of cultural identity and buildings and monuments that evoke feelings of national pride and historical memory, as well as landscapes embedded with trauma, contributors consider how we can work to develop adequate shared conceptual models of heritage and apply them to design and its histories. Exploring the distinction between tangible and intangible heritages, the chapters consider what these categories mean for design history and heritage. Finally, the book questions whether it might be possible to promote a truly equitable understanding of heritage that illuminates the social, cultural and economic roles of design.

Design and Heritage demonstrates that design historical methods of inquiry contribute significantly to critical heritage studies. Academics, researchers and students engaged in the study of heritage, design history, material culture, folklore, art history, architectural history and social and cultural history will find much to interest them within the pages of the book.

PART I Monuments and memorials

1 WELLINGTON MONUMENT AND THE USES OF HERITAGE Changing purpose, new meanings, multiple identities

Barbara Wood

DOI: 10.4324/9781003096146-3

This chapter considers the cultural construction of heritage sites and their changing meaning in the United Kingdom. Using the Wellington Monument in Somerset as an example, it examines the shifting physical and intellectual ownership of heritage material over time and its potential for new and different meanings in the present and future. In 2007, when the structure of Wellington Monument began to fail, the National Trust, which cares for the site, was faced with the question of how to approach major repairs. With limited resources, the project team had to consider whether the monument should be rebuilt or if it would be more fitting to manage its decline and eventual loss. The National Trust undertook extensive discussion with surrounding communities to understand what Wellington Monument means today. The response from local people shaped how the organization responded to this challenge, revealing how a sense of the past contributes to the forming of public, community and personal identities and to the multiplicity of meanings that are invested in such tangible and intangible remains.

The material remains, and memories of the past, historical materials and places, myths and legends are incorporated into the fabric and operations of contemporary life. This is never clearer than in the monuments, memorials and municipal spaces that were created or erected by previous generations and which have remained static over time. Such remnants have often been absorbed into the design of new spaces. Community gardens, public squares, office developments and residential areas incorporate statuary, plaques and memorials, founded long ago with passion and purpose. Open spaces, rural landscapes and village greens similarly host and often hide structures, commemorative works and monuments intended to recognise actions and individuals considered, at some point, to be so important that a permanent and unchanging record was necessary.

These products and markers from the past bring challenges for the present. How far can such memorials be relevant, and for how long do they need to be cared for and maintained? Some such questions are practical, concerned with planning, development or cost considerations. Others are far more difficult. While the material remains of the past can remain relatively stable, the meanings with which items are imbued cannot have the same consistency. Purposes will change, emotional connections will be different, an alternative view of the person or historical event commemorated may emerge which changes how the object is seen. This reality has never been more evident than in the reassessment of statuary and memorials engendered by the Black Lives Matter (BLM) protests of 2020. An obligation and compulsion to decolonise and reappraise collections of historical materials and to democratise such dialogue became increasingly evident and urgent. Existing, well-intentioned debates which sought to question the validity and address the purpose of public memorialisation were joined by activists who began to take decision-making into their own hands and remove or reinterpret the history making of the past in order to address issues of importance in the present.

Notable in the United Kingdom was the removal of the bronze statue of Edward Colston (1636–1721), a prosperous merchant, leading member of the Royal Africa Company and slave trader, from its plinth in the centre of the City of Bristol during a BLM rally on 7 June 2020. This event attracted attention from the public, but this is just one of many examples in which an alternative view of a monument has emerged as more relevant in a different era (BBC 2020; Museum of the Home 2020). Recognising that multiple histories are embedded in such objects is important. It is part of an ongoing negotiation or re-creation of purpose, whether undertaken in passionate public action and thoughtful discussion or informally, imperceptibly and even individually.

Changes in the meaning of historical materials, while not always so visible or arresting as the toppling of statues, are always in play. Whether objects are physically re-purposed and incorporated into new designs for public spaces, or their continuing validity is questioned, the meaning of the historical assets within contemporary spaces must be found in the present.

Wellington Monument

The Wellington Monument that stands on the Blackdown Hills of Somerset, South West England, provides an alternative example to the emotive and visible discussion of Colston and similar statues. It is a significant structure of national relevance but primarily of local impact. It fulfils a role which has changed over time but with little recognition. It was erected on land belonging to Arthur Wellesley (1769–1852), later ennobled as the Duke of Wellington in 1814. Wellesley had no original connection with the area, the purchase of the estate being made on his behalf by his brother due to the similarity of the names Wellesley and Wellington. A proposal to erect a local monument commemorating the Napoleonic Wars and specifically the Duke’s victory at Waterloo was first suggested soon after that battle in 1815. In 1816, the Duke was contacted about the potential to use the site, and a meeting was subsequently held by interested parties in London to launch an architectural competition (Lutley 2017). Architect Thomas Lee Jnr (1794–1834) proposed the winning design constituting a triangular shaft with a statue of the Duke on the top. He intended that it would include an internal staircase with canon and alms houses for veterans of the Waterloo Battle at the base.

Funds were raised from local landed gentry and members of the Somerset militia, but interest and money soon ran out, and construction ceased with the pillar at only 14 metres in height. Work resumed but was beset with construction problems. By 1829, the monument was left at 37 m. Despite occasional renewals of interest and intermittent building, it was not until 1892 that a simplified version of the original design was completed with the tower at 53 m. Our 21st-century understanding of the original purpose of the monument is largely limited to reports of the building process.

Wellesley was a national hero, and the scheme began in a spirit of enthusiasm amongst his peers. However, little is known of how the local community regarded the project or the construction. It stands on what had been publicly open land that was enclosed for this purpose. Funds appear to have come from particular social groups, with only one reference to ‘the servants of Heather-ton’ suggesting any wider contributions (Lutley 2017, 138). It may have been intended to commemorate a national military victory or as a monument to an individual. It has also been suggested that it was for some, perhaps even for the Duke himself, a symbol of a hope for lasting peace.

In 1956, its national significance was recognised as a Grade II* listed structure, although it is unclear whether this was primarily due to its commemoration of the Duke or the battle or to its architectural design. In 1933, management and ownership of the monument passed from its own charitable trust to the National Trust (England, Wales & Northern Ireland). Despite regular repair, by the turn of the 21st century, the monument was again in decline, with the degradation and loss of surface stone leading to restricted access and installation of a safety cordon (Figure 1.1).

FIGURE 1.1 Wellington Monument during renovations, Somerset, 2019.

Source: Photograph by Barbara Wood, reproduced with permission of the author.

Costs for the repair of such structures is high. For the National Trust (NT), there were some challenging questions to be debated. How did the monument fulfil the charity’s purpose ‘To look after places of historic interest or natural beauty permanently for the benefit of the nation’ (National Trust 2020)? Was it appropriate to raise almost 4 million pounds to repair a single monument, and why this one? Two centuries after it was erected, was anyone still concerned about it? The process of asking such questions raised in turn the concept of ‘curated decay’ (DeSilvey 2017), the possibility that such built monuments may ultimately reach a point where they are no longer relevant or when they are too costly or difficult to maintain. In such a situation, there may be an acceptance of managed decline leading finally to loss. Could this be such a situation?

Around 2009, as the project formed, the NT had limited data to inform initial discussions. As an open-access countryside property, there was no counting of visitor numbers and as a small site within a large management portfolio, staff presence was not permanent. Organisational understanding was that it was primarily an outdoor experience offering a short walk or a picnic spot to enjoy extensive views and that visitors included some regular local walkers and long-distance travellers from the nearby motorway taking a break in their journey. There was little sense of a particularly strong connection with the town of Wellington or those living in the surrounding countryside. But perceptions about the monument began to change when conversations between the NT and the local community began. It became clear that the understanding of the organisation that owned and managed the site and that of the community around it were disconnected. Discussions regarding other public monuments have recognised a similar phenomenon (Frisch 1990, xxi; Gentry 2013, 517; MacLeod 2010, 6–7; Smith and Akagawa 2009, 7; Waterton 2010, 3). Engagement with schools and the town council, connecting with local people and media and counting and meeting visitors revealed an extraordinary difference between what had been assumed as the local view and use of the monument site and the actual local experience of it. It was clear that the monument was in fact performing a purpose within the community which had not been tracked or understood and that there existed a deep emotional, largely local, sense of ‘ownership’.

Unrelated to original purpose, new meaning has developed for the monument. The tower has been appropriated, and a sense of ownership has developed that is invisible and unrecognised beyond the immediate area. It has come to symbolise, and contribute to, the construction of both personal and community identity. It appears on the mayoral chain, the town arms, and the badges of Wellesley Primary school and sports clubs. It is reflected in the names of local roads and businesses. This sense of ownership is ‘grass roots’, not constructed or created by the NT, which had considered the site very differently, as described above. The Wellington Monument demonstrates how places change, often with little or no recognition, reflecting contemporary concerns and interests, and how rarely current meanings or perception may connect primarily with an original purpose. As with the NT, visitors from further afield were probably also unaware of the active role that the monument had come to play in its local environment. Their response to the site would be to connect first with the woodland surroundings and perhaps secondarily to acknowledge the original purpose and intention of commemoration and memorialisation. However, all these views of the monument were valid and important to recognise in discussions about the future, as was the understanding that each identity was operating without reference to the wider multiplicity of meanings of which each was also a part.

The past at work in the present

Use of the past is part of the cultural construction of society. We draw on it to contextualise ourselves and to rationalise the political and social positions which we adopt. A sense of heritage is part of identity politics, whether personal, local or national, and is employed to create community cohesion, vibrancy and activity as well as to stir division and conflict. Objects, places and oral testimonies are multi-voiced, with complex histories encompassing many experiences that may speak to or of numerous individuals and groups. A chinoiserie cabinet in a country house collection, for example, may tell of the craft of its making or the tastes of its collector. It may reflect a life of wealth and travel or demonstrate a view of the world at a particular moment. It could equally be used to describe the toil of those who built and cared for the environment in which it stands or perhaps the circumstances in which the wealth to purchase it may have been made. Any object can be used to uncover personal and historical stories or to generate contemporary debate. We have rightly begun to discuss more openly, and explore more deeply, the multiple interpretations of objects in our museum collections, the figures or subjects which have been raised as public monuments and the places and events which have been memorialised or retained in public and private collections.

Kynan Gentry discussed how in formal situations, the agency and energy of working with historical assets has moved away from national institutions and that ‘In almost every instance, heritage preservation has emerged at the local level’ (2013, 508). While such a generalisation may be challenged, it is evident that the activity of heritage and the operation of curatorial practice are functioning in opposing cycles of time. ‘Heritage’ is a term which embraces a range of activities, including, for example, community projects, exhibitions, experiences and events, which use the material of the past as the basis for activity in the present. ‘Heritage’ has both a function and a meaning which is contemporary; it operates primarily in the short term, often with a sense of immediacy and reflecting current context. The work of heritage is highly valued by participants and by those who fund it. It contributes to our sense of self as individuals, and shared pasts are explored, researched and often reconstructed. But while those involved may think of this activity as history being collected and passed on for the future, in fact very little produced through such heritage practice is sustained. The material assets of history, however, whether objects, places or records, are – once identified as such – subject to multi-generational processes of care which are focused on the future rather than the present. Those assets are available for regular reconsideration and use, not only by those such as curators and archivists, working in this long-term cycle, but, in parallel, also by all those engaged with heritage, who use such assets as the foundation for much of this shorter-term activity. The parallel work of professional and informal practitioners operates w...