1 10 19 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Big Stuff 2015 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Alison Wain Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 03.09.2015 - 04.09.2015 Paper A paper presented at a conference or a workshop Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource <em>World Heritage Foundation Mines of Rammelsberg, Historic Town of Goslar and Upper Harz Water Management System: Two examples of object evaluation and condition measurement using a Webapp in accordance with EU standard 16096</em> Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Gerhard Lenz, Kornelius Goetz & Stefan Brüggerhoff built heritage condition conservation cultural landscape EN 16096 industrial heritage mapping risk standards survey webapp world heritage https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/21127/archive/files/1d38a75a624bc3d4cfb26fab8f986b4a.pdf?Expires=1781740800&Signature=Doc0OC%7ELRZIVvLffuo9qAxphhQpfuGbEGM1RJI4D2nxjIfnv2MqFhMGNPE%7EghVkRctdrYqJZSAuu6lsjqXHFkdyrStRbW1pjDhCynPtpYCcU-fdU%7EaQQe5Mo773q-8LxOzu2DpEDCo5IPfjTKl3iU2WxCuJaT4ePXb4WQNupy7aj5wqyTyKozhz-I4upehsybf6knjUtSh1tPJrYw8mrccFF54iDKhv1ReiWyIvGKnqHXSm3bscwaAbkp-ehzYGavlXYhgnxiDFiOTeXC6x5Xc1mysX-RaxMAuMKHucctB1u3Wt3d01hk-7mZ-yxxNgjfLfKZv4NGQnEC%7EmToqHPSA__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM 42269e6857c7a56a35da51ab40eb6c9f PDF Text Text Large  scale  industrial  structures  conservation  in  China–  a  short  report     Dr.  Yiping  Dong   Department   of   Architecture   Xi’an  Jiaotong-­‐Liverpool  University.   Suzhou,  China     2015-­‐Sep-­‐3   Abstract     This  presentation  will  discuss  the  designation,  conservation  practice  and  heritage   research  about  the  large  scale  industrial  structures  in  China.  Cases  from  Shanghai,   Beijing,  Huangshi,  Benxi,  and  Tangshan,  etc.  will  offer  a  general  view  about  the  big   picture  of  industrial  heritage  conservation  in  China.       With  the  term  of  "Industrial  Heritage"  has  been  widely  accepted  by  the  Chinese   conservation  community,  a  number  of  industrial  buildings  and  structures  have  been   listed  as  National  or  Local  monuments  or  historical  buildings  recently.  The   designation  efforts  by  SACH  have  achieved  great  improvement  in  Industrial  Heritage.   However,  the  conservation  practice  for  industrial  heritage  in  China  is  very  closely   related  to  the  adaptive  reuse  of  industrial  buildings/spaces  in  urban  context,  which  is   driven  by  the  economic  engine  in  creative  industry  or  real  estate  development.  The   preservation  of  the  large  scale  industrial  structures  encounters  the  challenges  of   lacking  in  concepts  and  professional  skills.       Most  of  the  modern  industries  are  imported  to  China  under  a  complicated  historical   context  after  the  first  Opium  War.  The  industrial  heritage  research  and  discourse  in   China  are  focusing  on  the  conservation  of  industrial  buildings  and  brown  field   regeneration.  Considerations  for  the  environment  problems  of  former  industrial  sites   have  faced  the  challenge  of  high  cost  and  long  remediation  period.  The  Ruhr  area   cases  and  other  western  precedents  have  a  strong  influence  in  the  regeneration   proposals  in  China.  The  typical  big  stuff  elements,  steel  plants  and  coking  works’,   need  maintenance  for  rust  proof  treatment  and  safety  reinforcement,  which  are   lacking  adequate  research  and  professional  support  yet.         Almost  all  the  large  scale  industrial  structures  belong  to  state-­‐owned  enterprises.   The  relocation  for  further  production,  the  former  land  redevelopment  request  for   economic  reasons,  either  driven  by  the  local  government  or  by  the  company,  and  the   former  workers  future  are  composing  a  complicated  situation  for  the  conservation   and  regeneration  of  these  structures.             �The  current  research  about  industrial  structures  is  focusing  on  its  humanity   perspectives  while  the  values  of  some  structures  are  hard  to  assess  under  the   semi-­‐colonial  modern  historical  context  in  China.  Taking  the  fact  that  most  industrial   structures  in  China  are  non-­‐native  technology,  this  paper  argues  that  the  localization   process  within  the  technology  transfer  and  its  transition  routes  research  should  be   established  for  the  further  value  assessment.         Key  names:     State  Administration  of  Cultural  Heritage   （SACH）         中国文物局   Beijing  Coking  Plant     北京焦化厂   SHOUGANG-­‐  Capital  Iron  and  Steel  Works(CISW)     首都钢铁集团   Shanghai  Jiangnan  Shipyard  Co.  Group         上海江南造船厂       上海民生路筒仓     Mingsheng  Rd.  Grain  Silos                 Huaxin  Cement  Plant                                                     华新水泥厂   Qixin  Cement  Plant                 启新水泥厂   Benxi  Iron-­‐  Steel  Plant               本溪铁厂   Daqin  Oil  Field                 大庆油田     � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Big Stuff 2015 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Alison Wain Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 03.09.2015 - 04.09.2015 Paper A paper presented at a conference or a workshop Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Large scale industrial structures conservation in China– a short report Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Yiping Dong adaptive reuse China conservation industrial heritage significance site values https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/21127/archive/files/a961545b01e132d786ec66a01a097510.pdf?Expires=1781740800&Signature=dapjy3OKFfid0fsQQjXj4omeu3Qq8S-ySOIrAL8tQYdd6ZX3Hx7D39pll2XQ1LXt%7EQO8carcsASye6KuSEsE5w4B--3J99m8rhI6yPL1qFJKUT4EIoxFKwbRntx0UFEjzNbEs8bYXiQ0jDrUTRy7MwYUmVEenC4ehqRbWg8soCRhQp-BRe3V0sXkPaobnfBa5ceaHVjhlNjaTmYVSi7FONyht1ii3JSHyi2YcULV4XV8ZNcgN782HJoaGgKGurWGPKuNZD%7E-S9NmM7DiieQqiYoZbYqgEbnCvJ1ja7XX4ZzQYBIlF%7E9JB6bASaEgrPLY551ttcxCXFi3-M8kI08JWg__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM ad3f877dc316d70e2b736df1751e3200 PDF Text Text Industrial heritage management in the context of urban planning Dr. Heike Oevermann, Georg-Simmel-Center for Metropolitan Studies, Humboldt Universität zu Berlin, Unter den Linden 6, 10099 Berlin, Germany heike.oevermann @gsz.hu-berlin.de Keywords: industrial heritage sites, industrial heritage management, heritage conservation, urban development, architecture Introduction The management of industrial heritage sites requires rethinking in the context of urban change; the issue of how to balance protection, preservation/conservation, and development becomes all the more crucial as urban industrial heritage sites grow in number. This brings into play new challenges—not only through the known conflicts between heritage conservation and contemporary architecture, but also the increasing demand for reusing industrial heritage sites as a driver of economic urban development. The following contribution discusses industrial heritage and conservation concerns regarding urban and site development. Industrial heritage is not only an issue of monument protection or heritage preservation, nor is it only about identity, memories, and cultural traditions; it belongs to cities and their transformations. Beyond the theme of cultural heritage, the conservation and use of industrial heritage (heritage management) is an issue for planning and urban development. Recognition and management of industrial heritage sites—as protection, re-uses, or partial demolition—go hand in hand with conflicts in planning practices. The core message is: Industrial heritage sites are part of urban transformation and its planning practices. Therefore, heritage management involves more than dealing with the protection and conservation of the heritage site itself; it also encompasses the urban transformation of the city and the site. Consequently, heritage management practice has to balance heritage conservation concerns and the interests of development, which often include new production of architecture, and has to bridge the gap between these three different perspectives and rationales. The recent debate surrounding the ‘Maritime Mercantile City’ UNESCO World Heritage Site in Liverpool provides insights into this complexity, and illustrates similar questions faced by agents at other UNESCO sites, such as the former Zollverein Industrial Complex at North Rhine-Westphalia, Germany. A three-year project provided profound scientific understanding of the conflicts involving heritage site management in the context of urban planning (Oevermann and Mieg 2015). The project findings will be introduced in the following sections, with some details on the case studies from Liverpool and Zollverein. I argue that the scientific knowledge resulting from our project is useful for heritage management practice, and I will offer first insights into my suggestion on developing best practices for bridging the gap between the concerns of heritage conservation, those of urban development and new production of architecture. Furthermore I suggest a processual collaboration between researchers and practitioners. Transfer of scientific knowledge into practice There is a broad literature providing guidance on heritage management practices, including manuals for UNESCO World Heritage Site Management (Ringbeck 2008; Wijesuriya et al. 2013) and guidance on heritage planning (Kalman 2014). Such guidelines represent a profound depth of knowledge and describe general procedures that are very helpful 1 �in understanding the overall context of managing UNESCO World Heritage Sites, and of heritage conservation in the context of planning. However, existing guidelines do not consider the specific heritage category of large industrial heritage sites, nor do they deeply address the challenge of balancing and bridging heritage conservation concerns and the interests of urban/site development. Approaches to this challenge derive from other categories of heritage: that of the historic city. Goetzmann (2009) describes a successful procedure employed in developing the masterplan (Leitbild) for the UNESCO World Heritage Site at Potsdam. There, conflicts were resolved through establishing alternative concepts, designs, and practices to bridge the gap between heritage conservation and urban development. Another example from the field of historic cities is given by Rodwell (2007), who applies the value of sustainability to bridge heritage conservation concerns and urban development interests. There are also specific tools for conflict management and resolution, such as the internationally acknowledged instrument of Heritage Impact Assessments (HIA), developed by ICOMOS (2011). The heritage management practice in the case of Liverpool shows that this tool supports identifying risks and potential benefits for the heritage site through a largescale urban development project, but that it does support the preparation of alternative concepts, designs, or practices. Furthermore, the case study shows that the HIA does not meet the challenge of resolving competing interests, such as heritage conservation and development. As we see later, its two assessments stick within the perspective and rationale of either heritage conservation or urban/site development. Understanding Conflicts Heritage management is an issue for many diverse agents with different perspectives on and interests in industrial heritage (Kierdorf and Hassler 2000; Albrecht et al. 2011; Douet 2012; Cossons et al. 2015). Creating advocacy among former and new users, local citizens, or local communities is an important issue that has been addressed by several studies (Smith et al. 2011; Cossons et al. 2015, pp.204–207). In this article the empirical studies focus on professional planning agents in heritage management and decision making processes. They mostly advocate either the heritage conservation concerns or the interests of urban/site development. The latter often requires architects and new architecture in order to implement their purposes. Already, it becomes obvious that the differing interests of these various planning agents lead to conflicts. But what are the conflicts about? We can generalize two main lines of conflict that challenge industrial heritage sites. One relates to culture as a driving factor in urban development, the other to architecture and its current production. Conflict 1: Culture in urban development Culture is increasingly recognized as a driving force for urban development. Today, cultural institutions such as museums, or events such as the European Capital of Culture, are used as tools for improving a city’s image, upgrading urban spaces, and providing a lively urban environment. The concept of culture-led development refers to these approaches. Heritage and heritage sites have become assets for urban development, often described as heritage-led development. On the one hand, we can recognize this as an opportunity to legitimize and promote heritage concerns and requirements. On the other hand, this superficial understanding triggers conflicts by failing to acknowledge that heritage values are deeply interwoven with the historical fabric of the sites and city. Conflict 2: Demands on the production of architecture Additionally, conflicts emerge out of the different demands on architectural production. Heritage conservation is based on the intrinsic values of material heritage—be 2 �they objects, buildings, or sites, their authenticity and integrity have to be maintained. Conservation therefore demands careful and minimal architectural intervention. However, urban development often uses architecture as an icon of and for structural change, a new image, and urban brands. Cities employ iconic architecture to promote themselves, attracting both talent and investment. Lastly, architectural design often follows new requirements for reuse, e.g. the upgrading of façades to improve thermal comfort. Architects understand architectural production as a tool to re-design the historical fabric and site. Consequently, conflict with conservationist interests is driven by the reality that competition for professional architectural recognition is better served by singular, iconic projects than by modest and sympathetic treatment of existing sites. We can explain these conflicts due to the differences in values of the three introduced perspectives. Agents of heritage conservation and urban/site development use different concepts and instruments and follow diverse objectives, and their practices are led by different values. In social sciences, we can frame these different concepts, objectives, and values as different discourses. In heritage management, they clash and influence heritage management practice. This conflictive interplay can be understood with the help of synchronic discourse analysis (Oevermann and Mieg 2015a). Through our research, it became obvious that the divergent values encountered throughout the constellation of discourses become sources of conflict (Oevermann and Mieg 2015b). What is needed in heritage management practice is to integrate the different core values and to employ further, shared values to define objectives and concepts for implementation. Both the integrated core values as well as the shared values function as bridges (henceforth ‘bridging values’) between the diverse agents and the differing perspectives and rationales. Table 1 provides an overview of the values and discourses relevant to heritage site management. Table 1: Values and Discourses Value Accessibility Authenticity* Bottom-up Character Design* Development* Economic value* Environmental value* Esthetics* Historic values* (Denkmalwerte) Image Integrity* Re-use Sensitivity Vision* Discourses Architectural production, Heritage conservation, Urban development Heritage conservation Heritage conservation, Urban development, Architectural production, Heritage conservation, Urban development Architectural production Urban development Urban development Urban development Architectural production Heritage conservation Architectural production, Urban development Heritage conservation Architectural production, Heritage conservation, Urban development Architectural production, Heritage conservation Urban development * = Core value Two case studies, from Liverpool and Zollverein, will illustrate the argument. Our research showed that Liverpool and Zollverein are specific cases but not exceptional ones, 3 �regarding this basic conflict between heritage conservation concerns and urban/site development interests. Case studies: Liverpool and Zollverein Liverpool and Zollverein’s UNESCO World Heritage Sites are huge, complex, and constituted by long-term transformation processes. In both cases, it is accepted by all planning agents that both heritage conservation and future urban development are necessary and yet must be balanced. Due to limited space, this article focuses on two details of the transformations. In Liverpool, this concerns the conflictive debate around the ongoing (2014) large-scale development project called Liverpool Waters, located at the Northern Docks. One instrument of heritage management practice—the Heritage Impact Assessment (HIA)—will be introduced to illustrate the extent to which the differences between conservationists and developer influence heritage management practice, and how difficult it is to achieve an appropriate balance. In the case of Zollverein, the Masterplan Zollverein (2001) from the Office of Metropolitan Architecture in Rotterdam is introduced, together with the conservation masterplan (Denkmalpflegerischer Rahmenkonzeption) of Reinhard Roseneck, and the compromises that were agreed—on the basis of bridging values—to balance heritage conservation concerns and development interests. The following discussion does not take into consideration other interesting arguments on the conflicts (e.g. Gaillard and Rodwell 2015 in the case of Liverpool). Liverpool’s large-scale development project Liverpool Maritime Mercantile City has been scheduled as a World Heritage Site since 2004; In 2010 an outline planning application from Peel Land and Property (Peel Waters) was first submitted by Liverpool City Council; since 2012, Liverpool has been included on the UNESCO List of World Heritage in Danger, as a result the density and heights of buildings within the Liverpool Waters proposal, and the resulting impact on the Outstanding Universal Value (OUV) of the heritage site. The Liverpool Waters project is partly located within the heritage territory and its buffer zone north of Pier Head and Prince’s Dock, and will re-use 60 ha of dockland area. It comprises a mixed-use, high-value urban quarter development that will create around 1.7 million square meters of new built space. The project has impacts on archeological objects in the ground, on views and the waterfront, as well as on the overall urban morphology of Liverpool (Bailey 2011; Chadwick and Dicks 2011; Rodwell 2015). In 2014 the project has been revised since the first masterplan; the revised masterplan was approved in 2013, and individual planning applications are still needed. Positive or negative impacts of new development projects on heritage can be assessed by the HIA framework developed by ICOMOS (2011). The central idea is that: “World Heritage sites are thus single heritage assets with an international value that has been clearly articulated. Not everything within them contributes to OUV, but those attributes that do must be appropriately protected.” (ICOMOS 2011, p. iii). Three leading questions will be addressed: What is the heritage at risk and why is it important—how does it contribute to OUV? How will change or a development proposal impact OUV? How can these effects be avoided, reduced, rehabilitated, or compensated? (ICOMOS 2011, p. 4, 2-2-2). It is important for assessing the impact of new developments to understand the intrinsic value of all heritage assets and their contribution to the significance (described as OUV) of the heritage site. Each significance (from minor to major importance as heritage) is assessed to obtain single and cumulative impacts (classified from major beneficial to major adverse) on the heritage site. In summary, the HIA helps to identify upcoming risks or benefits and to differentiate these impacts on heritage sites. However, it does not help to bridge the differences between heritage conservation concerns and the interests of urban/site development. 4 �In the case of Liverpool, both conflicting agents—conservationists and developers— commissioned consultants to produce HIAs. However, the introduced conflicts were repeated in assessing the impacts, as demonstrated by the following quotations from the closing comments. The following conclusion regarding the high density and building heights in the HIA commissioned by English Heritage: “The legibility of the Central Docks and the central commercial core of the City will be damaged by the secondary cluster of tall buildings in the Buffer Zone. Together, the primary and secondary clusters of tall buildings and the string of mid‐rise structures along the Mersey’s edge that form part of this submission, will overwhelm the historic primacy of the Pier Head buildings along the City’s waterfront, causing significant harm to the WHS’s OUV.” (Bond 2012, pp. 392–393). Obviously, this argument gives high importance to the historic values of the site. Historic values are core values of heritage conservation, as Table 1 has shown. In contrast the next argument demonstrates the importance given to economic values as core tenets of urban development: “Tall buildings are included in the scheme to create a new international business destination that will attract investment from around the world. Research confirms that positive economic impacts can accrue from the development of tall buildings. Furthermore, central waterfront locations are a finite and scarce resource, and are highly valued as commercial locations in cities across the world. Therefore, given the difficulties faced by Liverpool in attracting commercial investment and jobs since the demise of the old docks, it is crucial to make the most efficient use of the land through high density development and tall buildings. By using this finite resource carefully, tall buildings also provide more space for creation of high quality public realm.” (Liverpool Waters 2011, p. 13). The different core values influence significantly the two HIAs, not only in this detail but more generally, as shown by the comparative cumulative impact assessment (Table 2). Each number represents a single impact assessment of a heritage asset reflecting OUV, including impacts on (key) views, strategic landmark buildings, townscape characteristics, and compliance with guiding documents and policies. Table 2 shows that the HIA commissioned by English Heritage assesses nine large negative/adverse impacts and no moderate positive/beneficial impacts (versus zero and thirteen respectively, in the HIA commissioned by the developer). Table 2: Cumulative impacts of the Liverpool Waters project on OUV from HIA English Heritage and Liverpool Waters (Bond 2011, p. 356; Bond 2012, p. 386; Liverpool Waters 2011, p. 5). Very large positive/ beneficial Stephen Bond for English Heritage (2012) Peter de Figueiredo for Peel Waters (2011) Large positive/ beneficial Moderate positive/ beneficial Slight positive/ beneficial 0 0 0 3 0 1 13 9 Neutral Slight negative/ adverse Moderate negative/ adverse Large negative/ adverse Very large negative/ adverse 8 7 3 9 3 17 1 1 0 0 5 �From my point of view, the HIA is a very useful instrument to understand in detail the possible impacts on heritage sites, and for assessing these via the core values of a single rationale, such as giving importance to historic values (conservation) or to economic values (development). Nevertheless, it fails to integrate the divergent core values that lead to conflicts, and does not create bridges between the diverse agents and their perspectives and values. Transformation of the Zollverein Industrial Complex Coal extraction at Zollverein ceased in 1986 (Shaft 12), followed by the end of coke production in 1993 (coking plant). At the beginning of the transformation process, discussions were held on whether any (and if so, which) parts of the huge area might have value as monuments. Since 2000, all four of the remaining shaft sites (Shafts 1/2/8, 3/7/11, 4/5/11, and Shaft 12) and the coking plant have been listed as monuments; and in 2001, Shafts 1/2/8, Shaft 12 and the coking plant were also designated an UNESCO World Heritage Site. Since the 1990s, Zollverein has been transformed by creative interventions, and was an anchor project of the International Building Exhibition (IBA) Emscher Park (1989–99). The transformations of the site are ongoing as new uses of art, design, and culture are slowly established. A chronological overview of the history of Zollverein and its transformation (2010) is given in Table 3. Table 3: Chronological overview of the history and transformation of the Zollverein industrial complex, 1928– 2010 Date 1928– 1932 1957 1986 1986 1986 1986 1988 1989 1993 2000 2001 2006 2010 Topic Construction of Shaft 12 by the architects F. Schupp und M. Kremmer 26.11. 15.12. 16.12. 23.12. 24.01. Herbst 30.06. 20.06. 16.12. Jan. Planning of the Cokery Plant by F. Schupp Preliminary listing of parts of Shaft 12 Sale of Shaft 12 at NRW /LEG Listing of Shaft 12 by the ferderal government Closure of Shaft 12 Final listing of Shaft 12 Shaft 12 became IBA project Closure of Cokery Plant Listing of Shaft1/2/8 and Cokery Plant Recognition as UNESCO World Heritage Opening vistor center Opening European Capital of Culture and Ruhr Museum Following the closure of Zollverein, its subsequent transformation stems from the IBA Emscher Park, which was crucial to establishing the linkages between heritage conservation and regional development. The conviction was that future development of the Emscher region would only be possible and successful by conserving the large industrial sites that constitute the region’s historic landmarks (Ganser and Wermker 1994). The agenda Denkschrift Zollverein 2010 (Ganser et al. 1999) followed this integrative planning approach and defined three basic values on which the future transformations of Zollverein: The first of these is to 6 �understand historic shafts and plants as the basic urban design structure, while the others refer to the nature and the future uses of art and design (Ganser et al. 1999, pp. 15–16)1. Despite all critic, Zollverein’s masterplan from 2001/2002 integrated these values in the new development project. A visitor center and Ruhrmuseum, a design school, a congress center, and two industrial design parks are the main new elements, partly realized in 2015. Even more interesting is the urban design concept of the masterplan, which defines the historic complex as the core to be conserved, around which new functions and buildings are to be located. In this ‘shell area’ the demands for protection and preservation are not as stringent as within the former plants. This idea was also implemented in a second masterplan concept, called Denkmalpflegerischer Rahmenkonzeption, written and design by a conservation consultant Reinhard Roseneck (2002). Although there are differences between these two masterplan concepts, both define and respect the protection and conservation area—the core —and define change and development through new buildings in the surroundings. Research findings from synchronic discourse analysis of Zollverein indicate some values function as bridging values between the different concerns and interests of the diverse planning agents. One is accessibility (Zugänglichkeit), a value pointed out by the diverse agents, with nearly the same importance. This became evident through the analysis of planning documents referring to the transformation, from 1989 to 2010 (225 documents in total). Accessibility means facilitating physical access to the formerly inaccessible production site and plants. Graph 1 shows the quantity of documents (in %) that make reference to this value. Next to the common concern of conservation and development, further bridging values are: reuse, and aesthetic values (spatial quality, design and character). However, the value of authenticity—understood according to the rationale of heritage conservation—is introduced. The importance given by the diverse agents differs enormously, thereby indicating sources of conflict, which alsco become obvious in the expert interviews. 92 85 72 70 Conservation 100% = 72 documents Urban Development 100% = 100 documents Amount of docume nts in % 31 28 Architecture 100% = 47 documents Accessibility Authenticity Values Graph 1: Zollverein: Bridging and conflicting values 1The citation in German: “1. Die Gesamtheit der baulichen Anlagen mit den Eckpfeilern Schacht XII, Schacht 1/8, Kokerei, den Gleisanlagen, den verbindenden Bandbrücken und der Kohlenwäsche in der Mitte als Knoten im Netz von Kohleförderung und Kohleverarbeitung. Diese bilden das städtebauliche Gerüst. 2.Die Artenvielfalt und die Schönheit der Natur auf en Industriebrachen. Diese sind Basis für den Zollvereinpark. 3. Die Widmung des Standortes für die Kunst und Kultur des 20. Und 21. Jahrhunderts in einer Qualität die im Weltvergleich bestand hat.” (Ganser et al. 1999, pp. 15–16). 7 �It is striking how few documents on urban development and architecture address values of authenticity. Authenticity is a conflictive value, assigned high importance among agents of conservation yet low importance among agents of urban development and architecture. This result was confirmed by statements in expert interviews. We see that conservation and accessibility function as bridging values because they are implied by most of the documents produced by each group. Development is also integrated within most of the documents, although less so in the field of conservation. The data confirm that the urban design ideas of the two masterplans integrate heritage conservation concerns with the interests of urban development. However, next to these introduced bridging values that facilitate masterplanning, conflicts arise when planning became more detailed. The proposed transformation of the former coal-washing plant into a visitor center and the Ruhrmuseum was a particular issue of debate, which I have reflected in another article (Oevermann 2012, p. 193). In this part of the transformation, addition bridging values were needed to bridge the gap (Oevermann and Mieg 2015a; Oevermann and Mieg 2015c). Identifying best practice in balancing heritage conservation and urban development From my point of view, research findings concerning conflictive and bridging values are useful in the practical sphere of heritage management. In the following sections, I offer first insights into the debate on best conservation practices for bridging the gap between heritage conservation concerns and the interests of urban/site development in this complex field. Four assumptions lead my argumentation: 1. Scientific research findings are generally valid for broader or different constellations of agents. Other values might be relevant. 2. There are tools available, e.g. agent-oriented discourse analysis (akteurszentrierte Diskursanalyse), which allow analysis of different interests and rationales (objectives, concepts, values) and which can be used in practice (Mieg and Oevermann 2015). Synchronic discourse analysis, as briefly introduced here, is an instrument for scientific research. 3. Best practice means the integration of diverse concerns and interests; 4. Understanding the constellation of agents, their perspectives and core values, is the basis for developing best practice for balancing heritage conservation and urban development. The following tools are suggested for identifying best practice in industrial heritage management, balancing heritage conservation concerns with the interests of urban/site development. They are preliminary and need to be discussed and adopted together with partners in practice. Tool 1 (WZ1): A simple matrix might help to structure the perspectives and rationales of diverse agents. Perspectives and rationales can be described by three categories: objectives, concepts, and values. Differences, especially in values, indicate prospective conflicts; shared positions indicate common ground for heritage management practice. Shared values might function as bridging values in practical heritage management. The matrix reveals challenges and opportunities within the constellation of agents, and their perspectives and rationales. It can be used for transparent communication. The use of structured questions can reveal the objectives, concepts, and values of the respective agents during workshops, interviews, round table discussion, etc. These questions are: 1. What are your objectives regarding the industrial heritage management of xxx? 8 �2. What concepts do you use regarding the industrial heritage management of xxx? 3. A prepared list of values, which have to be ticked (multiple-choice), might help to answer the question: What is of great importance regarding the industrial heritage management of xxx? Tool 2 (WZ2): A two-page statement of significance can clarify the OUV/the historic values of the heritage site for all parties involved in the transformation processes. The importance of a shared understanding was highlighted previously, with reference to the ICOMOS Heritage Impact Assessment. In a second step, knowledge on possible bridging values (see Tool 1) can be introduced to all partners. Tool 3 (WZ3): The third tool is a slight revision of the matrix Tool 1. An understanding of the significance of the heritage site and bridging values might enable parties to work out slightly shifted objectives and concepts, and to add some shared values. Examples of shifted objectives might include the adapted re-use of buildings; slightly shifted concepts might involve conservation-led development rather than real estate-oriented development; additional shared values might include accessibility, sustainability, or sensitive design. All agents should be involved in this process of revision. Tool 4 (WZ 4): The fourth tool supports the recognition of best practice to balance heritage conservation concerns and urban development interests. Best practice is identified on the basis of shared objectives, concepts, and values, which are likely be those agreed through the process of mutual understanding and revision. Furthermore, best practice has to take into consideration the statement of significance. The simple matrix can again help to communicate the findings to a broader public and to agents involved in heritage management at other sites. Graph 2 illustrates these first insights toward identifying best practice in industrial heritage management. 9 �Graph 2: Suggested toolkit to identify good practice Conclusion Conflicts in heritage management practice are often based on different perspectives on and interests in industrial heritage sites. Diverse agents might consider the need for both heritage conservation and urban development, but their practice often sticks to the core values of either heritage conservation concerns or development interests. In these cases, planning and assessment instruments such as the HIA do not bridge the differences between the diverse perspectives and rationales. Here, the suggested approach comes into play, a toolkit to help to identify and communicate best practice with the aim of balancing different interests. This suggestion includes: Diverse agents are involved in the process right from the beginning; potential points of conflict are disclosed; the statement on heritage significance is clarified; bridging values are considered; and integrated planning approaches with alternative concepts are defined. It would be of great interest to arrange for collaboration between our research center and partners in practice, to improve the suggested approach and implement it in the practical management of industrial heritage. Acknowledgments This work was supported by the German Research Foundation (DFG) (Project DFG, MI 788/4,1-2). I am grateful to Prof. Harald A. Mieg, for supporting and guiding the research. Vita Dr. Heike Oevermann is based at the Georg-Simmel-Center for Metropolitan Studies at Humboldt Universität zu Berlin, where she is a researcher and lecturer in the field of heritage and urban studies. Her work focuses on the themes of industrial heritage, urban transformations, the UNESCO World Heritage Programme, historic urban design, and community participation. 10 �References Albrecht, H, Kierdorf, A & Tempel, N (eds) 2011, Industrial Heritage - Ecology & Economy: Selected Papers: Proceedings of the XIV International TICCIH Congress. Freiburg, Sachsen, 2009. Chemnitz, Zweckverb. Sächsisches Industriemuseum. Bailey, M 2011, Liverpool Waters Design & Access Statement November 2011, report prepared by WYG for Liverpool Waters. (Gray literature) Bond, S 2011, Assessment of the Potential Impact of the Proposed Liverpool Waters Master Plan on OUV at Liverpool Maritime Mercantile WHS, report prepared for English Heritage, accessed 23/11/2012, http://www.architectsjournal.co.uk/Journals/1/Files/ 2011/5/20/Liverpool%20Waters%20-%20OUV%20Assessment%20-%20FINAL %20REPORT.pdf Bond, S 2012, Assessment of the Potential Impact of the Resubmitted Outline Planning Application Relating to the Liverpool Waters Master plan on Outstanding Universal Value at Liverpool Maritime Mercantile WHS, report prepared for English Heritage. (Gray literature) Chadwick, P & Dicks, S 2011, Liverpool Waters – Archaeological Deposit Model, report prepared by CgMs Consulting on behalf of Peel Land & Property (Ports) Ltd. (Gray literature) Cossons, N, Cramer, J, Ringbeck, B & Watson, M 2015, ‘Discussing Industrial Heritage Conservation and Planning’, in H Oevermann & HA Mieg (eds), Industrial Heritage Sites in Transformation: Clash of Discourses, Routledge, New York, pp.199–216. Douet, J (ed) 2012, Industrial Heritage Re-tooled: The TICCIH Guide to Industrial Heritage Conservation, Carnegie Publishing Ltd., Lancaster. Gaillard, B & Rodwell, D 2015, ‘A Failure of Process? Comprehending the Issues Fostering Heritage Conflict in Dresden Elbe Valley and Liverpool Maritime Mercantile City World Heritage Sites ’, The Historic Environment, vol.6, no.1, pp.16–40. Ganser, K, Best, H.-J, Borsdorf, U, Bruder, R, Maack, K.-J, Möhler, D, Roters, W, Scheytt, O & Zec, P 1999, Denkschrift Zollverein 2010: Impulse für eine Fortentwicklung des Zukunftsstandortes Zollverein, [Agenda Zollverein 2010], IBA Emscher Park. (Gray literature) Ganser, K & Wermker, K 1994, ‘Industrielandschaft und Identität’, [Industrial Landscape and Identity], Garten + Landschaft, vol.7, pp.29–34. Goetzmann, A 2009, ‘Potsdam -Leitbild Weltkulturerbe’, in TU Darmstadt FB Architektur (ed) Planungspraxis deutscher Großstädte: Materialien neuer Planungskulturen, [Practice of Planning in German Cities: Materials of New Cultures of Planning], Darmstadt, Druck: BBR, pp.97–101. ICOMOS 2011, Guidance on Heritage Impact Assessments for Cultural World Heritage Properties, ICOMOS, accessed 11/07/2014, http://www.icomos.org/world_heritage/ HIA_20110201.pdf 11 �Kalman, H 2014, Heritage Planning: Principles and Process, Routledge, London, New York. Kierdorf, A & Hassler, U 2000, Denkmale des Industriezeitalters: Von der Geschichte des Umgangs mit Industriekultur, [Monuments oft he Industrial Age. The History of Handling Industrial Culture], Wasmuth, Tübingen. Liverpool Waters 2011, Heritage Impact Assessment: Non-Technical Summary, accessed 18/09/2012, http://www.liverpoolwaters.co.uk/pdf/PlanApps/201111/ Heritage_Impact_Assessment-Non_Technical.pdf Mieg, HA & Oevermann, H, 2015, ‘Planungsprozesse in der Stadt: Die Synchrone Diskursanalyse. Forschungsinstrument und Werkzeug für die planerische Praxis,’ [Processes of Urban Planning: The Synchronic Discourse Analysis], Zürich: vdf. Oevermann, H, 2012, ‘Über den Umgang mit dem industriellen Erbe. Eine diskursanalytische Untersuchung städtischer Transformationsprozesse am Beispiel der Zeche Zollverein,‘ [Dealing with Industrial Heritage Sites. A Discoursenalysis of Urban Transformation Processes of the Coal Mine Zollverein], Essen: Klartext. Oevermann, H & Mieg, HA 2015a, ‘Exploring Urban Transformation: Synchronic Discourse Analysis in the Field of Heritage Conservation and Urban Development’, Journal of Urban Regeneration and Renewal, vol.09, no.01. Oevermann, H & Mieg, HA 2015b, ‘Studying Transformations of Industrial Heritage Sites: Synchronic Discourse Analysis of Heritage Conservation, Urban Development and Architectural Production’, in H Oevermann & HA Mieg (eds), Industrial Heritage Sites in Transformation: Clash of Discourses, Routledge, New York, pp.12–25. Oevermann, H & Mieg, HA 2015c, ‘Zollverein and Sulzer: The Tangible and Intangible Dimensions of Industrial Heritage Sites.’, in J Czierpka, K Oerters & N Thorade (eds), Regions, Industries and Heritage. Perspectives on Economy, Society, and Culture in Modern Western Europe, Palgrave Macmillan, Basingstoke, pp.260–279. Ringbeck, B 2008, Managementpläne für Welterbestätten: Ein Leitfaden für die Praxis, [Management Plans of World Heritage Sites. A Guideline for Practice], Dt. UNESCOKomm, Bonn. Rodwell, D 2007, Conservation and Sustainability in Historic Cities, Blackwell Publishing, Malden, MA. Rodwell, D 2015, ‘Liverpool: Heritage and Development - Bridging the Gap?’, in H Oevermann & HA Mieg (eds), Industrial Heritage Sites in Transformation: Clash of Discourses, Routledge, New York, pp.29–46. Roseneck, R (2002) Denkmalpflegerische Rahmenkonzeption: im Auftrag der Entwicklungsgesellschaft Zollverein, [Master Plan of Conservation. Commissioned by the Development Agency of Zollverein] context_plan, Braunschweig, (Gray literature). Smith, L, Shackel, PA & Campbell, G 2011, Heritage, Labour, and the Working Classes, Routledge, London and New York. 12 �Wijesuriya, G, Thompson, J & Young, C 2013, Managing Cultural World Heritage, UNESCO World Heritage Centre, Paris. 13 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Big Stuff 2015 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Alison Wain Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 03.09.2015 - 04.09.2015 Paper A paper presented at a conference or a workshop Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Industrial heritage management in the context of urban planning Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Heike Oevermann architecture consensus conservation industrial heritage management significance site urban development values https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/21127/archive/files/52a4f4f9175e92561856a18610116329.pdf?Expires=1781740800&Signature=pjkv7-K0v4ob%7EGM3qga1Yle-cujC%7El8FBKXhE0sEc9CBUSJB0HT31AjW35gXiAuajP1NEE%7EZME5HL07wAciKR8MBWVCuDEzh5i11F2Kn234dJE3hK-q6ObmOydOi49NLI3NzNEt4errwbqP9A0lBrbTr1U6bismhGnr84Fe6fPQfgNMsAMiBWmEd-4o8BPC11bXuPemdKLoILDTY%7ECYTsaH1VG7XrF2cvFy7lawoF8w7CIdNpsr%7El%7E1s06grZAMqXq4Y0A4VzDtSq9v0bxZ0uvyV%7EMQNrf7TW0EjIEP%7EMCzRrfAwQTcezkGPugOj4wbjlEsy-JyawD3C8AuYKsmSIg__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM 86f514c3d6300d85c3effb671001cd74 PDF Text Text Recent conservation work in the hammer forge at Næs Ironworks Museum. Authentic fabric vs. function. Stan Reed Næs Ironworks Museum Nesverkveien 240 4934 Nes Verk Norway. njm@jernverksmuseet.no/stanreed2@gmail.com http://www.jernverksmuseet.no Keywords: Næs Ironworks Museum, industrial heritage conservation, trip hammer, tail helve, belly helve. Introduction. The Norwegian Directorate for Cultural Heritage has initiated a conservation programme to rehabilitate fifteen prioritised industrial heritage sites to a level where they can be preserved through routine maintenancei. Næs Ironworks is the best preserved of the old Norwegian ironworks and is one of the prioritised sites. Næs has received funding for project work on several of the historic buildings as part of this programme. Due to extensive deterioration of timbers in the hammer forge, the axles of the three water wheel driven trip hammers, one of the hammer hafts and other timber elements have been replaced. The hammer forge is one of three buildings at Næs protected under Norwegian cultural heritage legislation. This paper will present the project work done in the hammer forge and discuss some of the practical and theoretical challenges encountered. Næs Ironworks Museum. Næs Ironworks was founded in 1665 and was in production until 1959. The blast furnace was blown down in 1909. The last 50 years of production were based upon crucible steel, both cast and forged objects and steel bar. The surviving production buildings: a double charcoal blast furnace, hammer forge, crucible steelworks, machine workshop, a utility building housing remains of the works laboratory and a storage building, are either owned or managed by the museum. One of the workers cottages with an authentic interior and a house reserved for functionaries and their families are also owned by the museum. The blast furnaces, hammer forge and crucible steelworks are the only intact examples of such structures in Norway. Production stopped in 1959 when a flood destroyed the works dam. Reconstructions of the main dam and a mill race, water wheel and bellows have been built to illustrate the concept of water power. The bellows are positioned as the original bellows were at the base of the blast furnace opening. A reconstruction of the furnace building has also been raised to protect the furnaces from the elements. Although this is primarily a protective structure, the building has the same form and dimensions as the furnace building from the middle of the 1800's giving an extra dimension to the museum’s presentation of the furnaces. The water wheel and bellows are in operation during the summer months and are demonstrated by guides with every tour. These faithful copies give visitors first hand tangible experience of water power which aids understanding of the authentic machinery to be experienced in the forge and other buildings. The Hammer Forge. The surviving hammer forge at Næs houses three water wheel driven trip hammers, two belly helve and one tail helve. All three hammers were in use up until closure in 1959, but have not been in use for several decades. The forge is assumed to stand on the site of the original forge from 1665, but this is unconfirmed. The number of hammers and size of the first forge is unknown. At one point in the 1800's there appear to have been four hammers in the forge, the building being longer than it �was at the closure of the works. There was also another forge upstream from the main dam which housed two tail helve hammers. It is uncertain when the building was shortened, but two hammers appear to have been removed. The tail helve hammer being moved here from the other forge after that burnt in 1917. After the blast furnace was blown down in 1909 there was no longer a need for the Lancashire hearths for fining, these were also removed. All three hammers are operated by axles directly connected to their water wheels. The wheel spokes are of oak, the wheels have an iron rim with a diameter of 3.4 – 3.8m, and width of c. 1.5m. The axles are c. 8.6m long, square in cross section, c. 0.8m x 0.8m, and consist of nine pine logs bound together by iron bands. The older bands are forge welded as whole squares and driven into place. These have been replaced in the central part of the axles of the two belly helve hammers with twopart bands bolted together. Whole bands were still used at both ends to hold the gudgeons in place. The gudgeons are solid iron blocks, square at one end, circular at the other. The square section is inserted into the axle and is slightly pyramidal, narrowing towards the bearing end. The central pine log is shorter to accommodate the gudgeons. These are wedged into place with wedges between the gudgeon and the eight timbers. The timber is then expanded against the gudgeon and iron bands by driving wedges into the logs. A starting hole is worked in the timer with an iron wedge and the wooden wedge inserted into the hole. The wedges are approximately the length of the gudgeon inside the axle – c. 0.6m and were traditionally driven in with an iron tipped beam hung from the rafters. The water wheels and cam rings are wedged onto the axle using folded wedging. The hammer hafts are c. 3.5m long, the hammer heads vary in size. The hammers assembly, especially the belly helve hammers closely follow the instructions in Sven Rinman’s Bergwerks Lexicon of 1789ii. The hurst frames in Rinmans illustration are of wood, whereas the frames of the hammers at Næs are of cast iron. The hammer hafts at Næs are of birch and there is a verbal tradition that they should be of a birch log with a large number of knots. These presumably give the haft a form of internal reinforcement better enabling them to withstand the stresses they are placed under. Fig. 1. Rinman’s illustration of a belly helve hammer. Fig. 2. The largest belly helve hammer at Næs. The building collapsed in 1966 after a heavy snowfall. A replacement building, mirroring the one that collapsed in size and form, was completed in 1969. The hammers and other fast inventory appear to have been largely undamaged by the collapse and were given protected status under Norwegian cultural heritage legislation after the collapse, in 1967. The roof tiles in the forge rested on battens with no underlay allowing fumes from the coke furnaces to exit through the roof, see fig 3. After production stopped the building was no longer heated or maintained, rain and melting snow presumably leaked into the building through the gaps between the tiles causing significant rot damage to the structure. �Fig. 3. Fumes from the coke furnace exit through the roof, 1956. Photo: Karsten Ellefsen. Substantial restoration work was undertaken on the foundations of all three hammers in the 1980's to address subsidence caused by rotting foundations. Each axle and water wheel was lifted and the timber foundations replaced with gravel with a layer of creosote impregnated telegraph poles lain on top. Short sections of interlaced telegraph poles closed the foundations towards the wheel pit holding the gravel in place. New wedges were driven in at the ends of the axles to strengthen the wedging of the gudgeons. It's clear from the pattern of wedging and the dimensions used that the ends of axles were in a state of deterioration when this work was carried out. Other than this no interventions appear to have been made to the hammers or water wheels. The forge was the subject of analysis in 2002/3 by Christian Bode as part of his studies at HTW University of Applied Sciences, Berliniii. He produced a condition report, analysis of fungal and insect attack and carried out resistance drilling to document the condition of the timbers in the largest hammer. He also replaced the base of one of the earthfast posts and as a theoretical exercise analysed the climate in the building, suggesting the interventions and dehumidification equipment which would be necessary to create a climate that could secure in-situ preservation of the timber. Dating of the fabric. The restoration work from the 1980's could be read from the apparent difference in age of the materials, but dating the authentic elements of the hammers has proved challenging. The hammers’ assembly closely follow the instructions in Rinman's Bergwerks Lexicon but there are no grounds for assuming that the surviving elements date to the late 1700’s. The only datable elements were the hammer hafts. Partially legible dates from the 1950’s were carved into the end of each hammer shaft. Presumably indicating the date the shafts were installed. Despite only being in use for a maximum of 8 years a new haft for the tail helve hammer stood in the forge ready for installation. A photo from 1948 shows the iron bands binding the axle timbers on the largest hammer are different from those present on the axle today. The whole rings having been replaced with two part rings and bolts. These were presumably replaced during dismantling and renewal of the axle timbers. This indicates that the timbers in the axle of large hammer were replaced in 1948 or later �and in use for a maximum of 12 years. There is verbal evidence for shifting of the timber posts of the largest hammer in the 1950's. The works is also known to have had a store of seasoned timber ready to replace the machine parts when necessary. There is also verbal evidence that two of the hammer heads were recast in the 1930's. There are very few photos of production in the forge despite production continuing in to the 1950's and no other available evidence to indicate an age for the various machine parts. It seems likely however that those subjected to the most stress under use were changed relatively often. An indication of the stresses involved can be found in Rinman’s description of the axleiv. He recommends using at least four pine logs bound together, as attempts to use a single pine trunk lasted no more than 6 months before it was twisted asunder. We have estimated a lifespan of c. 20 years for the timbers in the axle, but this is no more than an educated guess. The lifespan of the machine parts will presumably have varied considerably depending on how intensely they were used. The timber in the structures over the belly helve hammers and the cast iron hurst frames are probably the oldest elements. The forge was in active use up until 1959 and underwent several structural changes in the 1900’s. Several of the individual elements in the hammer assemblies were presumably replaced several times during the 1900’s. The timbers in the axle of the large hammer, which is the subject of further discussion later in this article, were in use for 12 of the hammer forge’s 294 years of production. Condition of the timbers. The new building constructed in 1969 used impregnated timber posts and glued laminated roof trusses. The exterior has vertical weatherboarding, with gaps between the boards along the west wall that faces the river. A reconstruction of the mill race has also been built, but only alongside the building. It is not connected to the dam. Whereas the water wheels and mill race were originally separated from the hammers by an internal wall, both are now visible from within the building to aid understanding for visitors. There are louvre window openings along the opposite wall and irregular openings where the construction and weatherboarding are adapted to the terrain. The building is very open and the internal climate follows to a large degree the external climate. The building has a large internal space 22m x 14,5m, 8m to the roof. The internal climate is relatively slow to adjust however and with changes in the weather moisture condenses on the iron. There is also a spring that runs approximately 1m under the earth floor, running out in one of the wheel pits and out into the river. Two of the wheel pits had standing water in them all year round. The opening out to the river has now been cleared so that any water that comes in runs out when river levels drop. Drainage pipes, laid in gravel with a layer of heavy duty plastic over them, channel the water from the spring out into the river. The plastic, which is disguised by a further layer of gravel, prevents evaporation into the building. Relative humidity (RH) in the building is high. Measurement of the temperature and RH levels together with selective analysis of fungal and insect activity carried out by Mycoteam suggested that RH levels were not high enough to sustain rot or insect attacks in fresh timber, but that periodic fungal activity in already weakened timber with dormant spores could be activated by high RH levels or other wettingv. This periodic activity would over a long period of time cause further deterioration. The starting point for the fungal and insect activity that could be registered in the timber was assumed to have started some time ago, either as a result of exposure to rain and snow after production stopped and/or subsequent roof leaks. Dataloggers have recently been installed in the forge and other buildings. Preliminary results show a high RH, fluctuating between 45 and 100 % during the latter half of the winter and spring of 2015. The newly replaced birch hammer haft for the tail helve hammer has fungal growth visible on its surface, identified as Cylindrobasidion evolvens. This was first noticed the winter after installation. The laboratory that carried out analysis of the growth, Mycoteam, concluded that the timber was infected prior to �installation and that the timber may not have been sufficiently dry before installation. The fungal attack died out naturally during the summer. No action was therefore taken. It returned however the following winter when RH levels increased. During the winter months, most of the timber in the forge, both new and old timber in the hammers and that of the building construction, showed moisture levels of around 20%, measured both on the surface and at a depth of 5cm. This is of course the critical level for fungal growth. The fungal growth on the new hammer haft and the moisture level measurements in the timber strongly support the initial conclusion that periodic fungal growth following high RH levels could have caused the continued deterioration of the timbers. There have been leaks through the roof along the mill race where the building is partially open. These leaks will have contributed to wetting at selected points and therefore to continued fungal activity, but cannot be responsible for activity at other points along the axles. The timber in the axles could appear to be solid on the surface at one point, but severely weakened by rot at other points along their length. The rot attack was most apparent at either end of the axles where the iron bands were placed tightly together to hold the gudgeons in place, and appeared to be more acute in the centre of the axle than on the surface. The iron in the forge is often visibly wet from condensation when the weather changes. It is possible that where the iron bands are closely placed condensation has contributed to wetting of the timber and also prohibited drying. Christian Bode’s resistance drilling clearly shows the decay concentrated at either end, but also spread irregularly along the length of the axle, se fig. 4. It also shows that all the timbers are affected, but that where one is rotten the others may be in reasonable condition, whereas further along the axle the rot is concentrated in another of the timbers. The first step in the conservation work was cutting the timbers to remove them. These randomly placed cross sections through the axles confirm the situation recorded by Bode's drilling, see fig. 5. All three axles were in a similar condition. Whereas the positioning of the iron bands may in part explain the concentration of decay at the ends, the apparently random pattern of decay along the central part of the axles is difficult to explain. Fig. 4. Resistance drilling cross sections through the axle of the large belly helve hammer in 2002. Red indicates rot. Both sections show the same results. The upper set is exploded to ease reading. From Bode 2002/3. �Figs. 5 + 6. Random cross section through the axle and wedging of the gudgeon from the 1980’s in the largest belly helve hammer. The aim of the restoration work in the 1980's was to redress subsidence caused by rotting foundations. The work was successful, but funding didn't cover provision for work on the rot in the axles. The gudgeons were simply wedged tight with large wedges. These are clearly distinguishable for the original wedges. Further decay was clearly visible in the axle ends, the gudgeons have loosened again and many of the iron bands hung loose. At the water wheel end of the tail helve hammer the gudgeon had loosened completely, the axle no longer carried the wheel which had slumped, coming to rest in the base of the wheel pit, see fig. 7. All three axles were subsequently supported along their lengths with wooden blocks and iron bars taking the weight. If the axles hadn’t been supported in this way the other gudgeons would have loosened under the weight of the water wheels and cam rings, and the machinery would have collapsed. The timbers in the axles were so weakened that they could no longer be bound together to function as a load bearing unit. Fig. 7. The gudgeon in the tail helve hammer’s axle had loosened and the water wheel rested in the wheel pit. �The hammer haft of the tail helve hammer was also severely damaged by rot and insect attack. The central part was rotten almost through the timber. It was successfully removed in one piece, but fell apart during an attempt to move it out of the building. The base of the earthfast posts of both belly helve hammers were also severely damaged by rot. Mycoteams analysis of some of the fungal growths identified honey fungus (Armillaria mellea) growing in one of the rotten posts. This is a fungus normally associated with wet wood on forest floors. The spring running under the floor holds moisture levels in the ground constantly high and timber in contact with the ground is likely to rot. All wood has been removed from the floor, except the earthfast posts, to prevent fungal growth. Fungus can sometimes be seen to grow on the earth floor. Sawdust and small woodchips from working of the axle timbers caused new growth, despite rigorous attempts to clear the debris. Openings in the roof and more louvre windows in both gable ends are planned as a first attempt to improve air circulation to reduce condensation and aid moisture transportation. Further alterations may be necessary if these are not successful. Conservation work. A local firm, Boylestad og Moen DA, who have a lot of experience rehabilitating historical buildings carried out the practical work in co-operation with the museum. The museum undertook conservation of the iron elements. The hammers were documented prior to dismantling both by the museum's curator and the craftsmen undertaking the work. Investigations into preserved hammers elsewhere showed significant variation in the details of the machinery and how they are assembled. It was therefore considered especially important to re-assemble the machinery following the local traditions. Wedging was identified as a key element in the construction. This is a method of connecting machinery that none of the people involved in the work had direct experience of. It was of particular importance to be able to document the wedging to gain as much insight as possible as to how the gudgeons were wedged in place to support the functioning machinery. It was of course a goal to create an authentic as possible situation, but was also necessary to wedge in such a way that the gudgeon and axle were able to carry the weights placed upon them. The water wheels and cam rings were suspended from temporary frames built around the hammers and the axle was supported on wooden blocks. Once the machinery was supported the timbers in the axles were cut up. The timber was so deteriorated that there was nothing to be gained from attempting to dismantle the timbers whole. Sample sections have been retained by the museum for reference. The water wheels remained in place during the whole operation. The hammer hafts of the belly helve hammers also remained in place, but the whole assembly of the tail helve hammer was dismantled. All the moveable iron objects were removed from the building and steam cleaned. This process removed mechanically all dirt and surface rust. The iron was oiled with penetrating, rust inhibiting oil – Owatrol. The upper layer of creosote impregnated posts were removed and replaced with pine logs with a high degree of heartwood. Fig. 8. Tail helve hammer partially dismantled. Fig. 9. Steam cleaning. �The axle timbers were also of heart pine, seasoned over several years. Twelve or thirteen logs were cut for each axle and the most suitable nine selected. The original axles consisted of a combination of square sawn logs mixed with logs with part of their original waney edge. This combination was retained. The logs were roughly cut to size away from site and worked in-situ by hand with axe and draw knife. The iron bands were refitted in the same positions as they had on the original axles. These were driven in from the ends and had to fit tightly over the logs. The timber had to be adjusted to allow the bands to be driven into position. Two of the axle ends could be removed from the building whole, allowing them to be dismantled piece by piece to document in more detail the methods of wedging the gudgeons in place. The original wedging was also observed in-situ, but only in the ends of the axles. The pattern of wedging showed some similarities and differences for all three hammers. There is a verbal tradition at Næs that additional wedges were inserted relatively often to hold the axles tight during use. The differences observed are assumed to be a result of the differential need for additional wedging. For all three hammers the original wedging appeared to be concentrated around the gudgeons, on all four sides in a rough ring or square with rounded off corners. Wedges were driven into one another in this area, whereas the area furthest from the gudgeon was, as a rule, free from wedges. Many of the wedges were in poor condition and it was difficult to determine their original dimensions. Those that appeared to be intact were c. 0.6m in length, the same length as the gudgeon within the axle. They may have been of varying wood types, some were clearly pine. Wedges of the same dimensions were used in the rebuild. Hand working them would have been prohibitively time consuming and pine sawn to size was used. In the state they were recovered in, the originals appeared to be more rounded in cross section. Fig.10. Recording of the wedging of the gudgeon in the axle end. Wedges from the 1980’s directly over the gudgeon. �Fig. 13. Reassembling the axle. Fig. 11. Original and new wedges. Fig. 14. Driving the iron bands onto the axle. Fig. 12. Driving in new wedges. Driving in wedges around the gudgeon, c. 0.10m in from the edge of the logs as the originals were, caused the logs to partially split. Similar splitting was observed in the original logs. Extra wedges were needed not only to bring the logs and gudgeons together, but also to fill the splits and cracks that opened up. Wedging in a closed ring or square around the gudgeon was the simplest way of avoiding openings in the timber. It is possible that splitting would have been less prominent if the wedges had been more rounded or a different technique used to open up the timber prior to driving in. Single wedges were observed in some places in the original axles. How these were driven in without causing splitting is unclear. It was not necessary for us to wedge outside of the area around the gudgeon to bring the components together, with one exception, so it was not attempted for fear of causing more splitting in the timbers. Iron wedges were also used in the original hammer assemblies. They are present in the ends of the hammer hafts along with wooden wedges, wedging the hurst and shaft together, and used for both belly helve hammers between the iron bands and cam rings, driven in between folded wedges. Iron wedges were also used in the end of the axle of the tail helve hammer. They were not re-used in the tail helve or smallest belly helve hammer, but were in the largest hammer as a condition of the permission to carry out the work. More consideration should have been given to re-use of the iron wedges in the other two hammers, but the possibility of driving these in at a later date remains. They were driven in between the iron band and cam ring on the largest hammer after the gudgeon was wedged in placed. This caused pressure on the iron bands which was transferred to the timbers pressing them apart. These gaps needed to be closed to prevent moisture entering the axle. No observations of wedging between the timbers were made in any of the three hammers. Filling these openings with wedges was therefore considered a poor solution. A second ring of wedges was driven in between the first set and the iron bands, pressing the timbers together again. A second �complete ring of wedges in this position was not observed in the original axle, but was considered an acceptable solution, and possibly one which may, under similar circumstances, have been chosen by the blacksmiths. It is interesting to note that for the first hammer we followed the original wedging as closely as possible, stopping when the gudgeon was tight, but by the third hammer the craftsmen doing the wedging had a good enough understanding of the processes to suggest this solution. Once the second ring of wedges was driven in the axle was extremely tight and would not receive more wedges. All three axles were successfully wedged together and the wheels wedged on them. The process of wedging followed as closely as we could determine it the authentic pattern of wedging used by the blacksmiths, with the exception of one end of the axle of the largest belly helve hammer where a problem had to be solved and function prioritised. The experience gained made it clear that exactly replicating the original patterning of wedging, which was a result of repeated tightening of the axle after periods of use, would have been impossible with fresh, unused timbers. It is possible that the iron wedges between the iron bands and cam rings may also have been a secondary addition. Authentic fabric vs. functionality. The hammers, along with the crucible steelworks, storage building and an area around them were the subject of a protection order after the collapse of the forge. They are protected under paragraph 15 of the Norwegian Cultural Heritage Actvi. Exemption from the act has to be obtained before major changes can be undertaken. There were several on-site meetings with the authorities to discuss the appropriate interventions prior to our applying for exemption. Splicing the timbers in the axles was discussed. Whilst splicing is used successfully as a means of preserving sections of authentic fabric in deteriorated log buildings it would have been, in our opinion, an unhistorical method of treating a machine part. The pattern of rot damage also appeared to exclude this as a practical possibility. In addition if the timbers were to be load bearing, carrying the water wheels and cam rings, they would have needed to have been supported under each splice. The only realistic alternative appeared to us to be replacing the timbers in the axles in their entirety. This would entail a loss of authentic fabric, but the machine part, consisting not just of the timbers, but also the authentic iron bands and gudgeons would regain its functionality and be a load bearing element once again. The tail helve hammer was in critical condition. We wished to begin with this hammer to gain experience of the processes and review the results before finally deciding on a course of action for the other two hammers. Permission was obtained for replacing the timbers in the tail helve hammer axle and for installing a new hammer haft. The work was completed successfully. Both the water wheel and cam ring hung on the axle, which can be turned by hand as part of a maintenance strategy. The hammer regained its functionality, but there was no attempt made to restore it to a functional state. The regional authorities wished for clarification of this issue prior to considering our application. We chose not to focus on restoration at this time; the strategy for the interventions was preserving the machinery. If the hammer were to be fully restored we would have to learn to use it by trial and error, experimenting with a unique cultural heritage object. The foundations have been changed, the timber being replaced by gravel. The potential effect of this on the hammer’s stability is unknown. The mill race could be rebuilt to run the wheel, but one of the project’s goals was to reduce moisture levels in the building because of the detrimental effects on the remaining authentic timbers. A sprinkler system was recently installed to protect against the potentially devastating effects of a fire. Restoring the furnaces to heat up iron for forging would also pose challenges. The number of visitors who could safely view the hammer and furnace would be limited in relation to the potential interest. None of these challenges are insurmountable, but the museum decided to explore the possibilities of building a working copy. We have positive experience of the copies of �the water wheel and bellows. A hammer copy could be sited more favourably for viewing and could be used freely without any concern for damaging a unique cultural object. Building a hammer copy is a priority, but work has not yet started in earnest. A number of parameters, e.g. which type of hammer, its dimensions, whether it will be run by guides as part of every tour, simply demonstrating the mechanics of a functioning hammer or whether it will be integrated into a viewing forge operated by a working blacksmith demonstrating not just the mechanics but also the skills needed to operate it, are yet to be determined. In reviewing the work with the tail helve hammer the regional authorities requested that we considered the possibility of preserving one of the hammers as is. The museum concluded however that replacing the timbers in the axles of both the belly helve hammers and splicing the base of the earthfast posts with new heart pine, separating the timber from the waterlogged soil with gravel, was the best way to secure long term preservation of the machinery as a whole. Permission was given to splice new material in the timbers in contact with the ground for both hammers and to replace the axle timbers of the smallest belly helve hammer, but the regional authority maintained that the axle of the largest hammer could, and therefore should, be preserved in-situ. This decision was challenged and decided at appeal by the Directorate for Cultural Heritage in the museum’s favour. Our contention was that deterioration of the timbers had reached a similar stage in both hammer axles and that preservation of them in their present condition was not feasible. The interventions that would be necessary to seriously attempt long term preservation would include changes to the buildings structure to close it to the elements and installation of dehumidification equipment. We considered these to be unacceptable alterations to the building’s character. The forge is an open, earth floored, damp, industrial locality and preservation strategies should consider the limitations this places on in-situ conservation. Even though replacing the timbers entailed an irreversible intervention in authentic fabric, we considered the machinery’s functionality to be of more importance. The value of these unique machines lay not in the patina of the logs in the axle, but in the function of the whole. The water wheels and cam rings are carried by the axle and it’s functionality as a load bearing element was not just a theoretical consideration. Preservation of the whole was, in part, dependant on a functioning axle to bear their weight. Without this the axle timbers, water wheels and cam rings would also have to be supported by cradles or shoring, impairing appreciation of the machinery. Unable to ensure preservation of the timbers we considered their replacement inevitable and foresaw a situation where their condition would eventually deteriorate to the extent that part of the hammer forge would have to be closed to the public for security reasons. Eventual collapse of the axles would also risk damaging the other elements of the hammers. The problem for us was not just whether preservation of the timbers in situ was a realistic possibility, but also whether they, in their deteriorated state, should be prioritised. In our opinion the loss of cultural historical value from the proposed replacement of authentic fabric was a lesser evil than the loss of value to the hammer by preserving the axle as it was in its non functional state, retaining the incorrect wedging from the 1980’s and supporting the axle, water wheels and cam rings to prevent collapse. Central to this train of thought is the appreciation of function as a bearer of meaning and value in industrial heritage. Preservation of authentic fabric is a given in cultural heritage, and is embedded in legislation and guidelines. It was difficult to find similar support for the consideration of function in the available guidelines and literature. Preservation of authentic fabric is undoubtedly an important premise for limiting destructive interventions, but in the author’s opinion this case illustrates that one should also be open to considering other factors when assigning value. �Fig. 15. Tail helve hammer before conservation. It was reassembled incorrectly in the 1980’s with the tail down and the head on the anvil. The water wheel, cam ring and part of the axle rested on the ground. The balance ring at the end was supported on blocks concealed behind the bearing. Fig. 16. Tail helve hammer after conservation. i http://www.riksantikvaren.no/Tema/Tekniske-og-industrielle-kulturminner. Accessed 06/08/2015. http://www.jernkontoret.se/en/about-us/library/bergverkslexicon/. See Hammarställning and Stångjärnshammare, and http://admin.jernkontoret.se/om_oss/vart_bibliotek/bergwerkslexicon/TabXVII_fig1.jpg. Accessed 06/08/2015. iii Bode, C. 2002/3. Die Hammerschmiede des Næs Jernverksmuseums in Südnorwegen. Diplomarbeit vorgelegt dem Fachbereich 5, Gestaltung Studiengang Restaurierung/Grabungstechnik der Fachhochschule für Technik und Wirtschaft Berlin. See http://www.bode-restaurierung.de/43314.html for pdf files. Accessed 06/08/2015. iv http://www.jernkontoret.se/en/about-us/library/bergverkslexicon/. See Hammarhjulstock. Accessed 06/08/2015. v Mattsson, J. 2011. Næs Jernverksmuseum – vurdering av fukt-, sopp- og insektskader i hammerbygningen. Unpublished Mycoteam report, project no. 201110101. vi https://www.regjeringen.no/en/dokumenter/cultural-heritage-act/id173106/. Accessed 06/08/2015. ii � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Big Stuff 2015 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Alison Wain Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 03.09.2015 - 04.09.2015 Paper A paper presented at a conference or a workshop Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Recent conservation work in the hammer forge at Næs Ironworks Museum. Authentic fabric vs. function Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Stan Reed belly helve conservation industrial heritage Næs Ironworks Museum tail helve trip hammer https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/21127/archive/files/0964c244bca973fd8d96af35d40188a4.pdf?Expires=1781740800&Signature=ewTOCdAUyLX4lnipNIinRryctj32B2tg8GbraY7451I88jTVW2FmQ2aOORMtnZTThuXx6v3Z8X60LrbwA61azsp7gQRjXuyz4iTbOUkajODiFQy4DU9tXs1cKE3BoFqmznkxdTaxOgBpoVpvF3FMT07CdpuAJLHSv6zGj4tBopczlyopxntEhS-rJp-SjMSTkKPv%7EnXvl1IIZdXoYEd%7EETvY8aTuerD8ofiPhxqz9guWgChs4uL9w-43L6n-e7mi39Xz4aHSFVoErhGMkxWFslNKZZtGSxVux-NWjZ2mFM7e4KNSkA7Sr8vKn83dhODcHV%7EXe4DK2R9c4c0LDWjjFQ__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM 0171b7e70245fe5a09344464aed2ff6f PDF Text Text The Würzburg Riese Radar at the Atlantikwall Museum of Raversyde, Ostend, Belgium – a restoration case study Kathleen Ribbens, kathleen.ribbens@west-vlaanderen.be, www.raversyde.be Keywords Würzburg Riese Radar, conservation, metal, railway wagon, Atlantic Wall, Second World War, decision process This paper presents an overview of the restoration of the biggest collection item of the Atlantikwall Museum of Raversyde in Ostend, Belgium performed in the year of 2014. The Atlantikwall museum Raversyde is situated in a unique location near the seaside and houses a large open-air collection of a part of the German defence line of the Second World War. The Würzburg Riese radar The German Würzburg Riese radar of Raversyde is a unique piece of Second World War history since it is the only remnant mobile Würzburg Riese FuSE 65E radar mounted on a railway wagon. The radar described in this paper was captured on the Germans during the Second World War. As was the case in many other countries afterwards this version was reused and converted to a radio telescope for astronomical observation of the sun’s radio transmissions by the “Observatoire Royal de Belgique”. For this use adaptations and additions were made on the radar during the years afterwards. The Second World War led to an enormous evolution in the area of military radar development. The Würzburg Riese radar (‘Riese’ German, stands for ‘Giant’) can be considered as one of the best radars of the Second World War. It was designed to follow one target (e.g. aircraft) over a long distance. Telefunken produced approximately 1500 pieces. The parabolic antenna of the radar was built by Luftschiftbau Zeppelin und Weserhutte (1945, p. 66). During war, the radar was used by the Luftwaffe and Kriegsmarine where together with other radars, they formed a support for the FlaK (‘Flieger Abwehr Kanone’) or anti-aircraft artillery. Along the Atlantic wall, including the Belgian Coastline different radar systems were positioned to try to intercept the Allied bombers. Together they formed the German aircraft warning line (‘Anti-Airkraft’). Technical specifications of the radar The radar has an operation frequency range of 565 MHz and a detection range up to 70 kilometres. The accuracy is about 25 meters in range and the radar is able to rotate 360° but doesn’t turn around continuously. The ‘Riese’ version with a diameter of 7,5 meter was introduced in 1941 (Bauer 1999, p. 24 & 32). The parabolic antenna, thanks to its azimuthal properties, is able to follow a moving target. The tracking down itself, is performed by another radar, for example a Freya radar. After detection by the Freya radar , the Würzburg 1     �Riese radar takes over and transmits all acquired data of the tracked object through an intermediate analogue computer device (Kommandogerät) to an anti-aircraft artillery unit. So the antenna is designed to follow one target over a long distance (1945, p. 66). The advantage of this mobile version was its versatility, it could be put into action on different places wherever a railway line was available and activated in a short amount of time. The A manual provided text and pictures of how to reassemble the radar with a crew of 3 officers and 20 soldiers. In just 3 to 5 hours the installation was done. All parts were transportable on just four railway carrier wagons. For the purpose of reallocating the radar, the parabolic antenna dish was dividable into three pieces. The composition of the carrier wagons was as following: on wagon 1: the 2 outer parts of the antenna, wagon 2: the central part of the antenna, wagon 3: the spindle and bar and arms (this wagon is present at Raversyde), and finally wagon 4: the operator-cabin (1944, p.7) which housed a crew of 6 (Bauer 1999, p.24) together with the transmitter and the reading device. History of the radar acquired by the Atlantikwall Museum During the Second World War this particular radar mounted on a railway wagon was captured from the Germans by the Belgian Army. For the rest of the war it was hidden in a tunnel nearby the station of Etterbeek, Brussels. Post-war, similar to many other countries, it was reused as a radio telescope for solar research by the “Observatoire Royal de Belgique” (ORB). At the end of the War more than 600 Würzburg Riese radars were left abandoned (Orchiston 2007, p. 221). In 1951 the Ministry of National Defence gave the radar in loan to the Royal Observatory of Belgium that installed the radar in Groenendael, Belgium. It was adjusted by the radio astonomer M.R.Coutrez (Gonze 2010) to become a radio telescope to perform research on sun and space. In 1954 the ORB acquired the radar in full ownership and brought it by railway to Rochefort, were it left for the radio astronomy centre of Humain, Marche-enFamenne, Belgium. There it became part of the Royal Observatory. In 2006 after 50 years of service and attacked with severe corrosion it is taken out of service to find a new home in 2009 at the museum of Raversyde. Conservation Issues to take into consideration- decision making process Location The radar came to Raversyde in an already severe corroded state. Corrosion progressed during the years outside in attendance for the professional treatment. The museum is situated in an extreme salt-saturated and harsh maritime climate near the seaside. The exposition of metal objects outdoors in Raversyde will always remain problematic. Therefore the treatment had to anticipate towards this. Due to the size of the radar, exposition inside was no valid option at the current location. 2     �Since the subject of the museum is the Atlantic wall, the choice was obvious to return the object into the state of the radar during the Second World War. Additionally, the project should take into consideration that at the location site, historically there never was a radar situated (see further). Constraints in time and budget Due to the running time of the funding, the treatment of the radar had to be completed by September 2014. So there were only 5 months’ time to execute the complete treatment and to find a suitable firm with qualified restorers with the required abilities, capable of executing the treatment in that limited timeframe. Additionally the treatment had a limited budget to be respected. Because of above mentioned constraints, it was opted not to restore the radar to working order, but perform the restoration in such a way that it will always be possible to put it back into operating mode. The choice seems justified since there do still exist other working radars. Balancing choices in the restoration process Some parts, like the cabin, were in such a bad state that they would partly have to be replaced, and a compromise between conservation and reconstruction had to be established. Although the value of its interior, completely removing was justified cause this was the valid option to treat the exterior of the cabin. Because of the dimensions, the weight (25 ton) of the construction and the windy environment safety was a priority within the decision making process of the entire project. The radar as a large technology item represents a top example of the warfare technological achievement of the Germans. Nevertheless, adjustments were executed in its post-war function as a radio telescope. This forms an important part of the complete history of the object. Value To establish an appropriate conservation-restoration treatment, a broad registry of the different values and significance of this mobile object was made beforehand. Originality – a unique piece The radar is a unique part of our movable heritage. As far as we know the FuSE 65 E model is the only remnant railway version of a Würzburg Riese radar. In other museums, in astronomical centres and sometimes even on site, Würzburg Riese radars mounted on their base or on other more recent constructions are still to visit (Lippmann 2013). Some radars nowadays used for radio astronomical purposes, as the one of Marcoussis that was later relocated to Bordeaux, started in fact life as a mobile Würzburg Riese. So much adaptations were made that all mobile context was removed (Orchiston 2007, p.223). Out of this follows that the image of the Raversyde radar is of major importance. 3     �It’s the only surviving giant radar in Belgium where there were quite a few active radar stations during the war with over thirty Würzburg Riese radar (Lippmann 2013). Historic and scientific significance The radar has a rich history that is representative for a lot of the still remaining Würzburg Riese radars. In this case not too many adaptations or contributions to the representation of the radar during its years in the war were made. Thanks to its radio astronomical context its history is quite well documented. The radar in its current state represents the 2 phases in its life, it had 2 scientific lives: one during the War and a second one in service of the Royal Observatory. It is an illustration of how well advanced it was on a level of its technology that it remained in active service for over half a century before it got its museum destination. Technological value On a technological point of view the radar still retains its original elevator, so this is an important component of the radar. Its original periscope is also retained. Most of the electronic devices were adapted in function of its radio astronomical use and essential still reusable electronic parts were removed before its journey to Raversyde. Educational value In the context of a museum of the Atlantic wall it’s important to show how the defence of the Atlantic wall worked and this Würzburg Riese radar forms the excellent object to illustrate that side of warfare. Similar treatments The radar of Douvres-la-Délivrande, France From 1992 onwards a profound research was performed by the Laboratoire d’Archéologie des Métaux of the Service de Restauration des Musées de France in function of the treatment of the Würzburg Riese radar of Douvres-la-Délivrande in 1994. The results were published in different scientific articles (Forrières & Périssère 1997, Forrières 2001). This proved to be invaluable information to build upon for writing down a treatment for our own Würzburg Rieseradar. To take into consideration is that the radar of Douvres-la-Delivrande is situated about 2 km away from the coast and is now in need to be retreated. In 1996 a revision was done. Around 2000 it was repainted. In 2010 a close investigation of the condition was executed (Lemoine 2010). Flightbase of Deelen – The Netherlands On the Flightbase of Deelen a restoration project of a Würzburg Riese radar is currently going on and is completely executed by a team of dedicated volunteers who provided us with lots of valuable practical information (Museum Deelen 2015). Physical Condition – Damage 4     �A description of the initial damages can be found below. Railway wagon: overall surface corrosion, but structurally sound. The wooden floor has partly rotten away and has been covered with non-original roofing. The concrete of the supporting pilasters under the train show cracks and lacunae due to the corrosion of the iron structure. Cabin: outside: the fine steel sheets are completely corroded with lacunae, inside: a false floor covers the original rotten wooden floor, the floor plate itself is stable. The door is a replacement. The wood of the windows has rotted. The chimneys on top of the cabin have been altered because of the second roof that was placed upon the existing roof in function of protection. Spindle bar: was in a bad condition: on the ends completely corroded, arms are burned through, extensive corrosion due to the continuous entering of water. The drive motor is missing. The arms are in a bad state where they have been burned off, but haven’t been adapted as it is the case with many other arms of dishes used Post-war. Parabolic dish antenna: the mirror is composed of juxtaposed aluminium beams, covered by square mesh panels. Some beams had local signs of powdery corrosion products and could break every instant. The covering paint is in a relative good state. Presence of local repairs with other materials, but in a good state. Alteration of the antenna receiver. The aluminium parts of the parabolic antenna fastened with iron bolts, have suffered from corrosion by the potential difference of these materials. This problem is also present on the mount points of the 3 parts of the dish. In the past, reparations and alterations were executed by overlapping all mount points with plates fixed with pop rivets. The central piece of the parabolic antenna was in the worst state. All elements covered in grease were still in excellent condition (Everaert 2015). Treatment Transition period at the Raversyde-site After more than 50 years of active service, the radar was locally heavily corroded what posed problems with the demounting on the site of Humain in 2009. The bolts that fixed the arms of the parabolic antenna proved to be so stuck. Sadly it was decided to cut the arms through, also due to limited time and resources. This meant that it was impossible to re-erect the radar in Raversyde, once transported to the Raversyde-site in 2009. Hence the radar rested for some years in the dunes separated into the parabolic antenna, the control-cabin with bar and the railway wagon. To prevent further deterioration the cabin was painted on site with local application of mastic. Finances 5     �In 2014, sufficient funds were available through a 50% funding of the European Interreg IVA Project “World War 2-Heritage” and 50% through the investment of the Province of WestFlanders to perform a professional treatment. Procedure of commission Elaborate specifications were written out with emphasis on a deontological approach with respect for the originality. This rapport was published as an open public tender procedure. The treatment had to be long-term guarantied and conform the Riga and Venice Charter. All work was combined in this one procedure so that all responsibilities were concentrated within one company. The company was allowed to work with contractors that first had to be agreed upon by the museum. The treatment was divided into different lots, so that payments were made each time a lot was finalised and approved upon. From the start, it was quite clear that the treatment would have to be much more a restoration than a conservation. This to guaranty a long-term treatment and to provide sufficient structural stability of the massive object. The treatment would focus on a profound colour investigation and documentation. And emphasises on the Second World War phase of the radar. At the end of the tender procedure, the restoration was commissioned to the Bouwsmederij Everaert from Bredene, Belgium. It is a family company that constitutes of a father and his two sons and 2 employees with a large tradition of working with metal along the coastside, who already treated the remains of the H.M.S. Vindictive. The son Stijn Everaert is formed in restoration. Dismantling and transport After a thorough study of the wartime manuals, the restorers started on the site to demount the different parts for transport. This took about 2 days with 3 people. The 3 parts of the parabolic antenna were divided, but the arms were kept on. The cabin was separated from the spindle bar. The train wagon could be transported as a whole. The transport was done in 1 and a half days’ time in close collaboration with the transport firm (3 persons) and the restorers (2 persons). A crane with a capacity of 80 ton and a telescopic crane were used in combination with 2 trailers. As practical measures, the public road nearby had to be closed down and the airport just nearby the museum site was asked permission to be able to use a telescopic crane. Colour research At the workshop was started with a thorough colour research of the historic paint finishes. For this the restorers collaborated with a researcher specialised in the colour research of historic interiors. The aim was to search for original markings below the existing paint layers, and to assess which were the different following paint layers on the different parts. This to make an attempt to determine which paint layer correlates with which layer of its history and to track down what were the original service colours. Samples of the original paint were retained. 6     �The colour-layer stratigraphy on strategic spots in the form of ‘windows’ revealed the following sequence of colour surfaces on the cabin: 1. A dark red brown basecoat 2. a first coat in very dark blue black grey similar to RAL 7016 3. an orange-red lead minium basecoat 4. a very dark green 5. a light yellowish green 6. silvery coat 7. medium grey with a greenish tone 8. red brown basecoat 9. white 10. silver coloured paint 11. dark blueish grey The stratigraphic results of the railway wagon were the following: 1. an orange-red lead minium basecoat 2. a dark red brown basecoat 3. a first coat in very dark blue black grey similar to RAL 7016 with on this layer white markings and numbers, one marking in dark yellow ( RAL 7028) 4. an orange-red lead minium basecoat 5. medium grey 6. silver coloured paint The two first coats (on the railway wagon the three first coats with markings) date from the War period and the last paint layer dates from Raversyde, all layers in between date from the radio astronomic period of the radar. The radar was painted monochromic and all layers were executed in oil paint (Uyttendaele 2014). The colour layer number 2 as it’s seen at this moment (with degradation, discoloration and chemical adjustment) is to be situated in between RAL 7016 and RAL 7021. RAL 7016 is the usual colour used by the German Luftwaffe, named Luftwaffe Grau. Three different metal plates were sprayed in the different RAL colours to compare and to be colour-matched with the original colour. In the museum the radar will be presented as an example of a radar during the Second World War so there was opted to go for RAL 7016 as the executing colour. In Deelen they will also use the colour RAL 7016. On the railway wagon could already be visually established that there were different levels in the paint layers. By the naked eye some markings could be situated, the place of others could be detained from the gathered existing documentation. It was effective to trace over most of the underlying markings with a pencil. On other places the markings had to be freed with a scalpel with a scraping technique. Several markings were retaken at a certain point of time. All markings were originally stencilled. 7     �Further treatment After dismantling, cleaning and restorations, with exception of the parabolic dish antenna (see further), the radar and railway wagon were completely industrially sandblasted SA 2 ½ (ISO 8501-1). This to remove any spot of corrosion still present and to give the best adhesion possibilities for the following paint coatings. This is a hard restoration and removes all original paint but is the only way to guaranty a long-term treatment of the object. The new coating was done with an offshore protection paint system: C5-M, like they are nowadays use for windmills on sea. The whole process was executed by MultiTech n.v. Ostend that specializes in the treatment of offshore constructions. Treatment of the cabin: The steel plates of the cabin had too many lacunae to save them and had to be replaced. This was done by cutting of the rivet heads and beat them through, to avoid damage to the structure in steel. The floorplate was completely taken out to treat all sides. Most of the mounting plates were reusable. The windows were demounted and restored. The new plates were sanded and attached following the original riveting system. Parts of the structure of the cabin had to be locally replaced, but most parts could be retained. All new parts were engraved with markings to make clear these are recent additions. The non-original second roof in aluminium was removed. The bar with rotation mechanism: the bar was severely corroded and essential for the stability of the construction. All attacked parts were grind away until the healthy parts. Plates had to be renewed deep into the structure. Locally the plate work was welded, the hinges of one shutter were replaced and four lids. The reduction- and transmission units still in excellent order were detached in order not to be sandblasted with the rest. The parabolic dish antenna: the arms and turning points of the antenna were detached. The mirror made out of aluminium was treated in a completely different way: the aluminium is quite vulnerable and thin and would be too much damaged by sandblasting. So only weak parts were replaced following the original method. All corroded iron plates were replaced. The still structurally sound old restorations were left untouched. The attacked parts of the arms were remade. The railway wagon: The brakes and the operating mechanism were stuck, so the bars had to be cut through and soldered again in an open stand. Crests of rust were removed with a pneumatic scraper and vibrating needles. The roofing on the beams was taken away. The rotten beams of the wooden decking were treated or replaced and refitted. The railway wagon proved to be too big to enter the spray painting boot, so the wheels had to be taken off. 8     �The container that holds the radar structure mounted on the railway flatbed car has a division of four compartments with sand to keep the radar in balance. This container was detached from the railway wagon before its treatment. Some bolts had to be replaced and there was a lot of work on the profiles for the bolts to ensure the safety of the structure. The coupling rods for the coupling with the tilting axis that were burned through during the dismantling in Humain were completely stuck. Through heating by an electric arc, they finally loosened bit by bit ( Everaert 2014). Assembly of the radar on site: To avoid any confusion that historically there never has been a radar in the battery in Raversyde, it was decided to erect the radar at the entrance of the site near the parking space. That way it functions as a reference point and teaser for the site, but it doesn’t create any confusion and tells a part of the history of the Atlantic wall. It’s placed as far away as possible from the seaside and one side is protected by the entrance museum building of the archaeological museum Anno 1465. The radar was placed on an existing road in asphalt. A railway bedding was created using a dry concrete mix with railway pebbles on with concrete railway blocks and trails upon. The different parts were assembled on site with the same transporting crew. This was spread over two days. Because of the height of the free-standing metal structure, lightning protection was attached on the wheels of the railway wagon. Other practical issues had to be taken into account: the distance from the airport nearby to stay out of the flight zone, the need of a building permission or not, the stability of the underground and the absence of piping or cables underneath, the protection against vandalism and physical damage, the lighting security. Also the direction of the dish antenna was matched with the predominant wind direction to guarantee the most stability. Results The actual treatment was completed in a 5 months time period (end of april 2014- 30th of September 2014). During the treatment, a bullet hole in the left arm of the radar was discovered, of course this was left untouched as a proof of its history. Maintenance After 8 months the radar was revisited by the restorers to evaluate the treatment and to establish an appropriate treatment scheme. Weak points prove to be the spots were the radar was handled during placement and these were already prone to the first signs of corrosion. As well as all the points where the water gathers. Galvanic corrosion is seen next to the lightning protection. 9     �To treat this, the radar will be treated and retouched locally by the restorers. It’s obvious that the radar will need regular maintenance and that will be a never ending project: monitoring, visual inspection, surface cleaning, retouching corroded areas. An annual cost and timing have to budgeted (Wain 2004). Conclusion The project was an exercise in equilibrium between maintaining authenticity and guarantying a long-term treatment. Restoration got hand above conservation. Outdoor military heritage requires permanent, long-term commitment of museum staff and funds. It needs good management, but is a labour intensive and expensive aspect of collection care. One of the effects of our restored radar, was that we were contacted by one of our German visitors: a 95 year old man was very surprised to be confronted with a similar radar as the one he worked on during the war years in Brest, a unique living testimony of history. An interview is planned. Points of interest With such a project it is of the greatest importance to have a preliminary elaborate report. In this report, it is pointed out what exactly is expected from the restorers. You have to ensure enough safety guaranties that the work will be done by specialists aware of the basic principles of conservation. One of the biggest dangers is over-restoration, so you’ll end up with almost a new object. If this isn’t possible, the whole process should be closely followed up by a conservation specialist. During treatment an intense relationship with the executer has to be established to avoid different expectations of the involved parties. Work goes fast and sometimes choices that are evident for the restorer aren’t for the museum. Once a process has started it’s too late to turn back the clock. Treatment of such a large objects involve quite a lot of hard, industrial techniques so it can be difficult to retain small details. In this respect choices will have to be made. The available time and cost will have a persistent say into this. Collaboration of different specialities is a must where you can’t expect to find all this knowledge in only a few people. Biography Since 2013 Kathleen Ribbens is the registrar and collection responsible of the Atlantikwall Museum of Raversyde, Belgium. After a Masters in Arts and Philosophy at the KULeuven she was originally formed as a textile conservator at the Academy of Arts in Antwerp coupled with a degree in paper conservation. Her main professional interest goes to the conservation of objects constituted of mixed media. She started working as a restorer in the textile workshop of the Royal Institute of Conservation in Brussels in 2005. Afterwards she worked as a scientific collaborator and collection responsible on the start of a new museum in a protected monument concerning the Coastal History of Tourism. Before coming to the 10     �Atlantikwall Museum, she worked as an object conservator-restorer in the Africamuseum of Tervuren. In Raversyde she is now focussing on the restoration of some large military objects. Recent conserved objects included a 60 cm searchlight, an EM4mR40 rangefinder and Würzburg Rieseradar. The treatment of a PAK 40 anti-tank gun is on its way. Acknowledgements Personnel of the Raversyde Atlantikwall museum is kindly acknowledged for their work and support. This project was funded by the European Interreg IVA Project “World War 2Heritage” and the Province of West-Flanders. References Bauer, A.O. 1999, Deckname « Würzburg » Ein Beitrag zur Erhellung der Geschichte des Geheimnisumwitterten deutschen Radargeräts 1937 – 1945, Verlag Historischer Technikerliteratur, Herven. Bauer, A.O. 2012, Aspects of the giant Würzburg Riese FuMG65 (=FuSE65), accessed 25/07/2015, http://cdvandt.org/wurzburg-riese.htm Crochet, B 2000 , Radar Museum Douvres-la-Délivrande, Ed. du Mémorial, Caen. Coutrez R. 1952, ‘Applications récentes de l’électronique a l’astronomie’, Ciel et Terre, vol. 68, p.73-88. D.(Luft) T.4507/6 Funk-Messgerät FuSE 65 E (Eisenbahn) Geräte-Handbuch, Heft 6, Aufbau- und Bedienungsvorschrift, März 1944, Berlin, accessed 25/07/2015, http://cdvandt.org/fuse65-e.htm Depotwijzer 2015, Projectfiche Oostende - Big Stuff! Restauratie Würzburg Rieseradar domein Raversyde – Provincie West-Vlaanderen, accessed 27/07/2015, http://www.depotwijzer.be/oostende-big-stuff-restauratie-wurzburg-rieseradar-domeinraversyde-provincie-west-vlaanderen Directory of German Radar Equipment, 1945, War department Technical Manual TME 11 – 219, United States Government Printing Office, Washington. Everaert, S 2014, Restauratiedossier van conservatie/restauratie en opstellen van een Würzburg Riese Radar uit de tweede Wereldoorlog op het provinciedomien Raversyde, , unpublished report, Bredene. Forrières, C & Périssère, M n.d., Le radar Würzburg Riese du Mémorial pour la Paix rapport de restauration, unpublished report. Forrières, C & Périssère, M 1997, ‘Le Radar Würzburg Riese du Mémorial pour la Paix’, in MacLeod, I.D., Pennec, S.L. & Robbiola, L (eds), Metal 95, Proceedings of the International Conference on Metal Conservation, Semur en Auxois, 25-28 September 1995. 11     �Forrières, C 2001, ‘Patrimoine industriel et métaux modernes : la restauration d’un radar’, in C Volfovsky (ed.), Conservation du Patrimoine. La conservation des métaux, CNRS Editions, Paris, p. 261-267. 1944, Funk-Messgerät FuSE 62, Funk-Messgerät FuSE 65, Geräte und Einbauteile für FuSE 62 und FuSE 65, Band II, accessed 25/07/2015, http://cdvandt.org/werkstattbuch-62-65.htm Gonze, R 2010, ‘Coutrez, (Raymond Albert Joseph)’, La nouvelle Biographie nationale, vol. 10, Académie Royale de Belgique éditions, Bruxelles, pp. 101-104. Lippmann, H 2013, Funkmess(ortungs)stellungen in Belgien, accessed 30/07/2015, http://www.atlantikwall.info/radar/belgien/rb_.htm Lippmann, H 2013, Heute noch Vorhandene Funkmess-Geräte, accessed 30/07/2015 , http://www.deutschesatlantikwallarchiv.de/radar/heute/rheute.htm Lemoine, S 2010, Examin du radar Würzburg Riese Douvres-la-Délivrande (14), unpublished report, Cean. Mikesh, R.C 2009, Restoring Museum Aircraft, Schiffer Publishing Ltd., Atglen. Museum Deelen, accessed 30/07/2015, http://www.museumvlbdeelen.nl/wurzburg-rieseradar/ Orchiston, W et al., ‘Highlighting the history of French radio astronomy. 3: the Würzburg antennas at Marcoussis, Meudon and Nançay’, Journal of Astronomical History and Heritage, vol. 10, nr. 3, p. 221-245. Ribbens, K 2015, ‘Wurzburg Riese radar in Raversyde’, In de Steigers, jg. 22, nr. 1, p. 16-19, accessed 30/07/2015, http://www.depotwijzer.be/sites/default/files/in_de_steigers_jg22_nr1_2015.pdf Uyttendale, K 2014, Kleuronderzoek Würzburg Riese, unpublished report, Brugge. Wain, A 2004, ‘Organising an effective maintenance plan for Big Stuff’, in Wain, A, BigStuff : Care of Large Technology Objects, Proceedings of the Big Stuff Conference, Canberra, Australia, 29 September – 1 October 2004. Materials Offshore protection paint system: C5-M: First coat: Apecoat Zinc Basecoat 60 micron dry Second coat: Apecoat Mio E93 105 micron dry Third coat: Apecoat Mio 93 105 micron dry Fourth coat: Acrydur HB finish A39 Satin 50 micron dry 12     � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Big Stuff 2015 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Alison Wain Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 03.09.2015 - 04.09.2015 Paper A paper presented at a conference or a workshop Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Würzburg Riese Radar at the Atlantikwall Museum of Raversyde, Ostend, Belgium – a restoration case study Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Kathleen Ribbens Atlantic Wall conservation decision process metal railway wagon Second World War Würzburg Riese Radar https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/21127/archive/files/8d69302146d09b8b2c43ca28c1901799.pdf?Expires=1781740800&Signature=BJ3xYt%7E6rWZEH%7Ee93Y0CoAfx7TthmZgOIXMlmxcy-OHqpTnDBAEG%7E5JrgS2dza%7EaMLx9yM5AR7nKHgEm%7EKxoZNPJnP9HUwBrgKyrHKMirBTez0R-iWxR0acJlJVZti55X7GjIDW2qd3nklSKfDQlFKg6vMB2CSttxgTj7x2q01GcjA7S5mktjP66RfTor0VD6qNGwR5QZ-LxowWaub2rzYUksGa17nl2Se2q49M9eNhZnE-NIgRqsHYTK8LCGIEzS-1GDFkbdq90sGz3KNUMdz8BdH6XRcnH6qmz-CUMbPWphpIt9lJvS6RBMZwU15aIMtipPQH6E4dtZbR4fMpIAg__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM bc2a78bb53b7f53468f0a8d47522036f PDF Text Text Maintaining the Dymaxion House in Henry Ford Museum. Clara Deck Senior Conservator The Henry Ford 20900 Oakwood Blvd. Dearborn MI ClaraD@thehenryford.org Keyword: Dymaxion; The Henry Ford; conservation;  Buckminster Fuller; conservation; corrosion, fatigue; aluminum. This paper tells of R. Buckminster Fuller’s “Dwelling Machine,” the Dymaxion House, and recounts the original project to conserve and reconstruct its prototype as a permanent exhibit in The Henry Ford Museum. Long- term exhibition entails yearly maintenance and eventually required modifications to accommodate visitor traffic. Damages found in 2012 necessitated serious intervention and inspired a testing regime to model the expected longevity of the repaired structure. In the huge 32,374.8 m2 (8-acre) museum that Henry Ford built in the Detroit suburb of Dearborn, an unusual shiny structure will attract you. It is R. Buckminster Fuller’s Dymaxion House or “Dwelling Machine”: A domed, cage-hung cylinder supported off the ground on a central pole, with wrap- around windows, walls that lower for airflow and a rotating ventilator on top. You can walk inside this 11m (36-foot) diameter “corner-less cottage” and see for yourself how Fuller realized his prototype concept for the “house of the future” circa 1945. The idea for the dwelling machine had occurred to him more than 20 years earlier. Buckminster Fuller noodled for years with ideas to help humanity by making cheap housing for all by doing “more with   1   �less” – that is more dwelling space using less raw material. The houses would be mass-produced in factories, like cars and airplanes - the 20th century way. The house would require the least possible foundation footprint, and it would be so lightweight that it could be supported on a mast. It would have a myriad of laborsaving devices, with ultimate light and ventilation. The structural principle would be tension. Fuller’s inspirations were cabled suspension bridges, the rigged mast of sailboats and the ultimate tension structure, the airship (Zeppelin). Like an airship, which is a series of extruded and stamped rings cross-braced with cables and turnbuckles, held together by tension, the Dymaxion House would use aluminum structurally. Fuller drew numerous iterations of the building that would enclose maximum living space using minimum amount of material. Inspired by the great airship programs of the 1920s, he thought that perhaps a Zeppelin could drop a bomb to make a crater for the foundation and then set down a whole Dymaxion tower. Since it would be on a mast, the family of the future could park its airplane underneath the raised “deck” of their house. Wherever he could, he promoted his notions about how his new way of mass-producing houses would benefit society. A public relations man suggested he coin the brand “DYMAXION” from “dynamic,” “maximum” and “tension,” words that popped up frequently in his lectures. He spoke often “on the philosophy, economics, dynamics, etc., of Dymaxion Design.” However, he was waiting for the right circumstances and the right lightweight, high strength materials to become available cheaply. In the meantime, he managed to produce a stamped-metal all-in-one “Dymaxion bathroom”, prototype a three-wheeled automobile and designed the “Dymaxion Deployment Unit”, an army barracks made out of corrugated steel Butler grain bins.   2   �Finally, in 1945, when the country was anticipating a post-war housing shortage, he got the backing he needed to form a company, The Dymaxion Dwelling Machine Company, R. Buckminster Fuller Chief Engineer (later simply “Fuller Houses”). Located in the middle of the country in Wichita, KS, the Beech Aircraft Company was ready to re-tool and poised to use the know-how of skilled trades employed until very recently making aluminum planes for the war effort. Fuller set about with a young engineering staff producing hundreds of design drawings and patented the ideas. His basic design called for a central steel-tube “mast” supported in a relatively small concrete foundation pad. The aluminum sheet-metal “skin” would be supported by the structural “cage” consisting of rings (called “A, B, C and D”, from the top down), cross-braced with turn-buckled cables and rods. The Plexiglastm windows would be fixed, but the long sheet-metal walls below them could be lowered for screened air circulation around the entire perimeter. A rotating, louvered ventilator on top could swivel to catch the wind and thus increase air-movement draught inside the house. The rather complicated “deck” structure theoretically hangs by the cage on the mast. The deck has 96 break-formed tapered, “U”-shaped aluminum sheet-metal beams arrayed in a circle between the ”Inner Z ring” and the “Outer Z ring,” with a cabled truss between every other beam supporting a medial “L” bracket. The tapered, bevel-edged plywood floorboards clip to the beams with long strips of formed-sheet aluminum. The deck is secured to the ground around the outer edge with turnbuckle “tie-downs.” Fuller wanted the house to be shipped in aluminum cans and be assembled in three days. His design team worked with skilled trades from the Beech Aircraft Company to produce two prototypes and try out various design concepts. They produced copious design drawings, trying ideas like Plexiglastm for the ventilator and a rubberized fabric ceiling. An indoor (“Danbury”) prototype was built for promotional purposes. A second outdoor (“Barwise”) prototype was used for unsophisticated engineering tests. They reportedly piled bricks up on one side to see what would happen. But issues like   3   �fatigue of these aircraft alloys were not well understood at the time. The company finally failed because too many of Fuller’s cherished ideas were proving difficult to realize. One of the financial backers bought all the prototype parts and built a two-story version of the house for himself on a lake outside Wichita. The Graham family was not satisfied with life in a “Dwelling Machine.” They sealed off the ventilator, built the deck on a concrete block foundation with a spiral staircase up the middle, and added more conventional masonry structures to it. They painted it and coated the inside with tarry insulation material. They abandoned the house in the early 1970s. The Henry Ford museum acquired the house and all the parts in 1991 and sent a group of staff and volunteers to disassemble it. Damages were extensive and included lots of rot to outer edges of the wooden floorboards and the aluminum support beams due to leaky or missing windows. Hygroscopic insulation made things worse in the floor beams. Elements of the cage were bent inadvertently during disassembly. The disassembly team reported seeing bending they called “potato chipping” of the B and C rings once cables were released. A few years after the recovery from its Wichita site, the museum formed a new conservation team to restore and re-erect the house inside Henry Ford Museum. The exhibition team decided early on that public access was paramount. The design of the protracted restoration program commenced with a Historic Structures Report on the history and significance of the artifact. Early on it was determined that the “point in time” the house would be restored to should reflect the “finished” prototype (an oxymoron?) but that the functions and structural uniqueness of the “dwelling machine” needed to be revealed as well.   4   �James Ashby, a conservation-trained architect coordinated the three-year effort. The project conservator from the museum’s permanent staff was Clara Deck. Tim Brewer, a multi-skilled work foreman, came on as a volunteer and then was hired full time; he worked with up to six part-time technicians dedicated to the project. The conservation team confronted an assemblage of over thirty-six hundred parts, some of which had been used in one of the prototypes, as well as many “extra” parts. The team set about system-by-system, checking how many parts were extant and their condition. Damages included modifications and coatings but most of the worst problems were due to water ingress and inappropriate assembly of metals with masonry. A significant number of the “deck” parts suffered from spectacular corrosion with lamellar exfoliation, especially on the extruded parts. There was also a significant amount of galvanic action from ferrous fasteners and where parts were made of sandwiched steel beside aluminum. (These elements were to be made of aluminum in the final design, but the Fuller team had made steel/aluminum parts in the prototype to save cost). Karen Trentleman, then scientist at the Detroit Institute of Arts, helped identify the alloys and characterize the corrosion. Some of the original 1945 parts still retained their manufacturing roll-marking stamps. Almost all of the aluminum was 2000-series alloys, using current nomenclature, which is an aircraft alloy containing about 4% copper. These wrought alloys are ductile and formable, but their 4% copper content makes them corrosion-prone. Corrosion susceptibility increases dramatically in the vicinity of corrosive sources like mortar and concrete blocks. Typical corrosion products found were aluminum hydroxides that formed crusts and caused a fair amount of pitting as well as filiform corrosion. Trentleman worked with other metallurgists at Ford and General Motors who confirmed the composition of various parts. These scientists got very excited about how the Alclad (pure aluminum metalurgicaly bonded on 2000-series alloy sheet) roof panels had aged and altered over those years in the hot Wichita sun. They wrote a paper about it for a scientific journal.   5   �The museum also hired a structural engineer, Tom Fitzpatrick, who was required to legally sign off on the structure for public occupancy. He hired his own metallurgist, Donna Walker to advise him about the structural properties of the aluminum. She performed conductivity tests to determine corrosion susceptibility of component parts. Fitzpatrick did finite element analysis on structural parts. Finite element analysis is used to calculate component displacements, strains, and stresses under internal and external loads. He analyzed the loads on the beams, modeling where the deflection, bending and shear force would occur. He used a “forty pounds per square foot” (195 kg/m2) rule, which is a U.S. standard for a residential structure load, not a public structure load. He recommended stiffening the floor structure with a steel “I” -beam bracket cantilevered off the foundation at the mast that could shore up the inner Z-ring. Whereas this support structure circumvents the original Fuller deck design, it was not seen as unduly invasive because it supports, but is not fastened to, any original component. The conservation work on component parts started with cleaning and stripping off paint. Removal of the tarry waterproofing substance required the whole team to get specialized hazardous material handling training, because it was full of asbestos. There was extensive testing for corrosion removal techniques. The team tried but rejected caustic proprietary gels because they were hard to clear from huge and complicated shapes with crevices. After testing with specialists from the 3M Company, and representatives at Dynabrade, the method finally determined used a variety of fine rotating bristle discs. The testing criteria were based on finish quality, and what kind of stresses the abrasive technique would impart to the metal surface. The goal was to remove as little metal as possible. Parts that would not be seen, such as the floor beams, were particle-blasted with aluminum oxide at very low pressure. But as the beams were blasted the team found hairline cracks that had been hidden under the corrosion crusts. The cracks seemed to re-occur in the same position: always on edges near the   6   �middle of the beam. These beams were rejected and another one taken from the pile of parts. In the final assembly, one third of the ninety-six beams were made of new break-formed metal after the cracking problem was found. The aluminum used for the replacements was a close match to the original alloy and thickness. The long-term performance of the beams was of concern to the metallurgist. She recommended solution heat-treating some parts. Heat treating is a well-established procedure whereby manufactured parts are heated to a temperature close to their melting point and, with a very slow cooling, returned to a specific temper. The temper designation is alloy-specific and improves the corrosion resistance and also the elongation and toughness and corrosion-resistance of parts. This procedure was recommended for the rings and beams of the deck structure. It was difficult to find a local company who could handle the 4.1 meter (13. 6-foot) beams. Heat-treating is indeed non-reversible, but was considered essential. There are plenty of unused, never treated parts from 1945 still retained in the warehouse of The Henry Ford should further metallurgical research on the old aluminum be warranted. The outer skin panels were polished using aircraft abrasive polishes, with large variable speed rotating polishers with soft pads. This was a long and multi-stage process. A few skilled guys with good ventilation and personal protective equipment carefully degreased the aluminum parts to prepare them for the critical spray-applied coating. The coating chosen to keep the shiny skin parts shiny was cellulose nitrate Agatenetm due to superior adhesion and ease of application to large panels. The underfloor parts received a coating of Incralactm. Incralac is a solvent-born thermoplastic acrylic that was designed to protect copper and therefore thought to be advantageous for our 2000-series sheet aluminum, but it had poor adhesion on the shiny skin panels.   7   �Badly damaged components were made of new metal, using modern alloys very similar to the originals. Some parts received riveted patches. Visitors can detect which of the roof panel “gores” are original; they are the ones with the patches along the bottom. Working on this project in the Detroit area was a great benefit because the team could employ local manufacturers and prototyping shops familiar with metalworking and eager to commit to interesting jobs. Ashby found shops large enough to laser-cut shiny 12-foot long (3.7 m) roof panels and breakform the 13. 6-foot long (4.1m) replacement deck beams. Brewer knew of a prototype shop willing to tackle the re-construction of Fuller’s cherished “ovolving shelves” – the motor-driven aluminum boxes on a track that rotated while keeping the boxes always upright. Future Tool re-engineered the “ovolving” tracks to use wheels made of Delrintm (an engineered low-friction thermoplastic) for longwearing performance. The ovolving shelves have functioned continuously since then. The floorboards were an interesting challenge as well. About one-third of the house could re-use existing plywood boards, with minor repairs for delamination and some re-finishing. The team was pleased to find out that the same manufacturer that had provided lumber to the original Fuller project were still in business and producing fir ply with the same number of plies (5). Brewer created a jig to make new bevel-edged wedge-shaped floorboards. The factor the team did not anticipate was the difference in “figure”; old-growth fir is typically close-grained whereas the newly harvested quickergrowing wood has a broad figure. This required the team to apply traditional faux-finish “graining” techniques to the new boards so they would integrate better with the originals. The floorboards clip to the deck beams with long die-formed strips of sheet aluminum. These smallest of parts proved a trial to reproduce. The team found that few technicians had the know-how of midcentury aircraft-builders. The shape was so complicated to bend that the material cracked while being   8   �formed. The museum’s then Curator of Industry had a friend, a retired technician from General Motors, who produced the clips in a multi-phase production in his backyard shop using steel and wood dies to slowly form the metal clips. In some cases, older technologies were employed to repair or make parts for the “house of the future.” New doorsills were machined out of thick aluminum bar-stock using planers and shapers in the museum’s own “Armington and Sims” machine shop, a working turn-of-the-20th-century shop in Greenfield Village (a part of The Henry Ford campus). The beautiful compound-curved “cowling” panels on the outer edge of the deck required re-fabrication because the team had only a few damaged examples of the originals. Had the house gone into production, this element would have been massproduced using a huge metal stamping press like a car bumper. The reproductions were fabricated using an English wheeling machine – another late 19th century sheet-metal-working tool.   9   �Fig 1. The Dymaxion House inside Henry Ford Museum. Drawing by A. Titenkoff from The Collections of The Henry Ford. Finally, team members started to assemble the house inside Henry Ford Museum. A grant from the U.S. Federal Institute for Museum & Library Services helped fund a public program on the conservation process for the public during the long assembly phase. (The online “Conservator’s Journal” is still accessible on the THF website.) Each piece was clipped, bolted, cabled and, riveted into place. The team used dozens of different kinds of fasteners. Many were aluminum rivets. Bolts were stainless steel and these were always separated from the aluminum parts with Delrintm washers to avoid future galvanic action. Stainless steel turnbuckles were sourced from local sailboat shops. A year after the house opened to the public, the museum engaged the services of a talented intern preservation architect through the US-International Council for Museums and Sites (ICOMOS) program. With advice from the Historic American Buildings Survey/Historic American Engineering Record (HABS/HAER) program of the U.S. Library of Congress, Alex Titenkoff produced a series of beautiful measured drawings of the Dymaxion House “as built” in Henry Ford Museum. The Dymaxion House represents a rather unusual case of the merging of architectural conservation, which generally gives priority to preserving aesthetic and structural integrity, with museum conservation, which generally gives priority to preserving the material authenticity of an object (along with the artist’s original intent). This blending of conservation philosophies and standards in the reconstruction of the Dymaxion House is perhaps best reflected in the decision to exhibit the house inside the museum. While the house was designed to be an outdoor structure, and therefore may have been more appropriately placed in an outdoor setting within the collection of Greenfield Village, its origins inside an aircraft factory provided a precedent for indoor installation. Based on the fragility of the building as a prototype, its placement inside the climate-controlled environment of the Henry Ford   10   �Museum will undoubtedly prove to be the most significant treatment decision with regards to its longterm preservation. From the start, the exhibit was planned so that the public could walk through the house. An exhibit meant to re-create the feel of Fuller’s Beech Aircraft warehouse shop introduces guests to the “back story” of the development of the house. A ramp takes you up to deck level. The idea was to present the house like a salesman’s sample, at the time when the Beech aircraft workers’ wives got to tour the house in 1946. Guests walk in the front door, through three rooms separated by closet pods and out the back door. The first bedroom shows some interesting features like the corner-less bathroom, revolving closets and the “ovolving” shelves. The second bedroom has layers stripped away to show the structure and how the wall panels lower for screened ventilation. This “cut-away” room also exposes the “mast”, the rotating ventilator and the water-collecting interior “carlins” (or gutters) that support the roof “gores”. The living room is cordoned off from visitors, but is furnished to look just like the 1946 spread when the house was featured in Fortune Magazine. At first guests were guided through the house by museum presenters pretending to “sell” the house, wearing frumpy 1940s clothing. This helped limit the number of visitors allowed in the structure at one time, which the engineer had set at approximately fifteen. The space is so limited that any more than that would feel quite crowded. The guided tour notion was discarded after about six years when museum management instituted a “self-guided” approach and dropped the “1st person” circa 1946 presentation. This change meant installation of additional, possibly intrusive and confusing, Plexiglas barriers to keep fragile areas off-limits. One of the changes was to remove the original bathroom door and replace it with a full-length Plexiglas barrier; some folks still ask if they had see-through doors in the mid-1940s. Another change was to fix the pulley-activated “moveable wall” in the cut-away room to make it tamper-proof, which unfortunately makes understanding the “drop-down walls” more difficult.   11   �Additional signage in the “cut-away” room does not adequately explain the complicated features like the rotating ventilator, air circulation through floor beams and water-collecting neoprene gutters. Many visitors do not “get” the intricate structural tension concept. A yearly shut-down allows the current conservation team to make slight improvements to visitor-caused wear. Upgrades to the entire exhibition in the near future may improve didactic material with more drawings. Perhaps cartoons could explain, for instance, how rainwater might come inside the “carlin” gutters that support the roof “gores” and be collected by the internal neoprene trough and carried to an under-house cistern. After more than ten years of continuous exhibition and about three hundred thousand pairs of feet per year, the museum’s inspection routine involves squeezing under the house with less than 45.7cm (18 inches) of space to look for problems. It is a confined space and hard to photograph. Every year the cables are measured and re-tensioned as necessary to maintain the structural integrity of the “cage”. Early on, the team’s conservator was obsessed with whether the lacquer would hold up to visitor handling and with looking for what might be new outbreaks of corrosion. A more serious observation was evidence that the cage might be racking. This was seen in roof gores that no longer line up and seem to be deforming. The conservation team wanted to measure how the cage might be deflecting. What was out of alignment? How level is each ring compared to each other in this tension structure? So team members regularly climb up into the ventilator and look at the “A” ring. They have developed a technique to rig up a three hundred and sixty degree laser level on the mast and position a measuring rule to record the alignment of the rings. Conservators have been able to compare three years of data, and found that the A and C rings are slightly out-of true relative to each other, although they have not changed position. Doubtless, the conservation team could employ a more sophisticated 3D laser-scanning measuring technique for increased accuracy as a comparison technique, but this low-tech method has worked.   12   �A more troubling discovery during routine inspection was the crushing that could be felt in the floor, especially in areas where crowds lingered for the presentation. Lifting up the carpet, it was evident that boards had shifted. What was happening to the floor structure underneath, especially near the middle of the beams in the area of an “L” bracket and truss? No problems were found on a not-too-thorough look in 2009. But in 2012 the team found extensive cracking on the under-floor beams. The cracking and failure was found on the new (2001-era) beams as well as the old, always in the same pattern: extending from the edge of the “L” bracket that was supporting the kingpost of the truss under every-other beam. The cracking typically extended about 5cm (2 inches) from the upper edges of the “L” bracket and travelled out along the break-formed ninety-degree corner of the beam. The crack propagation on the worst areas eventually lead to the formation of lozenge-shaped pieces that would in due time crack all the way and fall out. It was clear that the metal was failing due to repeated-cycling fatigue. The root cause of the fatigue failure was the stress concentration resulting from the sharp corner of the “L” bracket. Conservators started to map the location and extent of the cracking. They found that the pattern of damage corresponded exactly to the pattern of traffic from three hundred thousand pairs of feet per year. A repair program was quickly developed. Back in 2001, team members had said they pitied the fools who would have to take the structure back apart; not suspecting it would be they. Once a few boards were off the floor, conservators could really see the extent of the problem: major structural cracking and metal loss. Getting at the problem meant major disassembly of the deck. So they disconnected the closet pods and shoved them aside, which allowed them to open up the sills and bang out the floorboards along aluminum-clip channels. Opening up half of the floor at a time exposed the cracked aluminum beams.   13   �To arrest the cracks from propagating further, the ends of each tiny crack was drilled with a sixteenth of an inch (1.5mm) hole. Working above the floor required the fabrication of a temporary plywood bridge in order to lean over and drill out the ends of the cracks. Each crack-end hole had its edge beveled, top and bottom, which is standard aircraft repair practice. Beveling blunts the existing cracks and reduces the stress concentration in the metal. By the time all the cracking had been found, the team realized it was even more extensive than they first thought: more than half of the 96 beams were affected, even in the third of the house where the public could not walk. Richard Jeryan, a volunteer mechanical engineer who still had many contacts at Ford Motor Company and knew of the best local firms who specialize in aluminum part prototyping, suggested the team hire Metro Tech, a local company who could do the job quickly. They made patches of aluminum twice as thick as the original beam that would be riveted in place under the deck and secured with a 3M adhesive recommended by an engineer at Ford Motor Company. Patching the beams required the central portions be shored up during work because of course the “L” bracket and truss underneath the beams had to be removed. The sharp edge on the “L” bracket was carefully machined to a rounded-off profile. In addition to the repair, it was decided to spread the visitor load further by installing 9.5mm (3/8 inch) plywood over the artifact-floor where the public walks. This was perhaps the conservators’ most brutal intervention to the artifact, because it required screwing directly into the existing plywood floor (hidden under carpeting). After all this work, how would the team know whether the repair was enough? It was about this time that Jeryan, Brewer and Deck went out to the museum’s storage area to look at the old reject beams and   14   �found lots of evidence of exactly the same problem. They recalled the initial concern for the future performance of the beams by Fitzpatrick, the structural engineer and Walker, his contract metallurgist. The cracking of the Dymaxion House floor beams is due to high-cycle metal fatigue, which is a phenomenon that causes materials to fracture after a period of cyclic loading (like bending.) The fatigue cracks in the beams developed as a result of how the floor system was designed. It turns out that a very long, tapered “U”-shaped sheet-metal trough, even one supported with a cabled truss underneath, does not work. The 1945 design did not adequately accommodate the cyclic loading. The discovery of the cracked beams never used in museum storage confirmed that even of the residential use in the Graham version of the house had caused the characteristic cracking. Deck, the project conservator, was worried about whether corrosion might have been involved in the fatigue cracking. New metallographic analysis of the cracked-out fragments at Ford Motor Company confirmed the alloy composition and described the crack propagation mechanism, which reassured her that corrosion wasn’t a cause. With input from engineers at Ford Motor Company across the street from the museum, the museum’s resident volunteer engineer set about designing a testing program using strain gaging. Strain gauging is a well-established procedure familiar to civil and mechanical engineers to determine the principle stresses and characterize fatigue loading on a structure. Residual stress gauges measure stress in the floor structure under empty dead load. The linear gauges measure the stress under live loads. The stress and strain measurements are gathered with proprietary software. The crack gauges first detect a new crack and then monitor how fast it is advancing. Gauges were placed in high traffic areas and also in the living room that gets less foot traffic, but has no covering over the floor to spread loads. Installing the gauges was very finicky work and was carried out   15   �by highly experienced technicians from Ford Motor Company. Working in 45.7cm (18 inches) of space, soldering tiny contacts above one’s head is a challenge. Each gauge was wired and connected to the data logging system, which were positioned at the mast opening. The crack gauges detect a new crack when an electrical contact is broken, and the propagation gauge beyond that can inform how fast a crack is moving (propagating). The monitoring station requires an operator to check monthly. If the light goes on at every location, there is no crack. The engineers positioned the five testing strain gauges on the underside of four different beams in strategic location. The gauges were adhered on the beam right next to the patch, arrayed in locations that would give the engineers meaningful data. The residual stress was tested when the house was empty and the live load data was collected over a busy 4th of July weekend. For the residual load, the rosettes with three gauges arranged in a circle measures the residual stress in a material as that stress is relieved when the center is drilled according to an ASTM standard. Data has to be collected during drilling when nobody is in the house. Workers had a hard time meeting the standard in the confined space and had to rig up a drill and borrow a pair of young, 20-year old eyes to see precisely where the hole had to go. The data collection system was wired up along the beams to the data acquisition center where Karnafel collected it from Ford Motor with proprietary software. Jeryan performed the calculations based on Miner’s rule using the live and residual load data. The rule states that the total fatigue damage is the sum of the damage increment done by each strain reversal cycle. Total fatigue life is the inverse of total damage. Each cycle generates a small amount of damage that accumulates over time. The fatigue analysis programs run for the team at Ford estimated the total damage and the time it would take for the new cracks to begin again. These calculations were made to   16   �estimate the fatigue life of the floor structure, taking into account the properties of the materials and using well-established methodology and analysis modules developed at the Ford Motor Company. Jeryan was confident in his determination that ongoing cracking will not be a concern for about 140 years. The analysis provided by this testing regime gives the museum confidence that the Dymaxion House will remain a much-loved attraction in the Henry Ford Museum for many years to come. The efforts to conserve, restore and maintain this house continue to reveal insights into Fuller’s prototyping process that can be used to inform the public as well as scholars. Conservators remain vigilant as they work to preserve the significance of this unique structure. Acknowledgements: Both my colleague James Ashby and I have brought aspects of the Dymaxion House project to conferences throughout the world. Most recently at the ICOM Metals Committee for Conservation’s Aluminum conference in Washington in April 2014. The Henry Ford is extremely grateful for all the help we have gotten over the years from our industry partners, all of them discounting their normal fees or giving their services pro-bono. A full account of these professional colleagues can be found in the formal paper to be published soon by the Smithsonian Institution Scholarly Press. This paper is dedicated to Richard Jeryan, who passed away this year.   17   �Clara Deck is Senior Conservator at The Henry Ford. She has designed and supervised conservation treatments for thousands of objects from a carousel, steam engines and automobiles to furniture, decorative arts and toys. She has work on dozens of exhibitions, numerous loans and ongoing storage upgrades. A member of the American Institute for Conservation, she has served as a grant reviewer for IMLS, NEH and Save America’s Treasures. She has a particular interest in industrial artifacts, modern materials and mechanical musical contraptions. REFERENCES Aluminum Association & Architectural Aluminum Manufacturers Association. 1983. Care of Aluminum. Washington DC: The Aluminum Association & Architectural Aluminum Manufacturers Association. ASTM International. 2013. Standard Practices for Cycle Counting in Fatigue Analysis. E1049. In: Annual Book of ASTM Standards. Vol. 03.01. West Conshohocken, PA: ASTM International. ASTM International. 2013a. Standard Test Method for Determining Residual Stresses by the HoleDrilling Strain-Gage Method. E837-08. In: Annual Book of ASTM Standards. Vol. 03.01.West Conshohocken, PA: ASTM International. Binger, W. W., E. H. Hollingsworth, E. H. & Sprowls, D. O. 1984. Corrosion Behavior. In: J. E. Hatch, ed. Aluminum, Properties and Physical Metallurgy. Metals Park, OH: American Society for Metals. Godard, H. P., Jepson, W. B., Bothwell, M. R. & Kane, R. L. 1967. The Corrosion of Light Metals. New York: John Wiley & Sons.   18   �Graedel, T. E. 1989. Corrosion Mechanisms for Aluminum Exposed to the Atmosphere. Journal of the Electrochemical Society Hunsicker, H. Y. 1984. Metallurgy of Heat Treatment and General Principles of Precipitation Hardening. In: J. E. Hatch, ed. Aluminum, Properties and Physical Metallurgy. Metals Park, OH: American Society for Metals. Lyman, T. 1948. Metals Handbook. Cleveland, OH: The American Society for Metals. Lyman, T. 1961. Metals Handbook. Novelty, OH: American Society for Metals. MacLeod, I. D. 1983. Stabilization of Corroded Aluminum. Studies in Conservation 28: 107. Moynehan, C. R., Allen, G. C. & Then, E. 1996. Testing and Developments of Corrosion Inhibitors for Aluminium Artefacts. In: J. Bridgland, ed. ICOM Committee for Conservation, 11th Triennial Meeting, Preprints. London: James & James (Science Publishers) Ltd Reedy, C. L., Corbett, R. A., Long, D. L., Tattnall, R. E. & Krantz, B. D. 1999. Evaluation of Three Protective Coatings for Indoor Silver Artifacts. AIC Objects Specialty Group, Postprints. Washington, DC: American Institute for Conservation Sicha, W. E. 1984. Properties of Commercial Wrought Alloys. In: J. E. Hatch, ed. Aluminum, Properties and Physical Metallurgy. Metals Park, OH: American Society for Metals Teed, P. L. 1937. Duralumin and Its Heat-Treatment. London: Charles Griffin & Company.   19   �The Henry Ford. R. Buckminster Fuller’s Dymaxion House [accessed January 10, 2014]. Available at: http://www.thehenryford.org/exhibits/dymaxion/index.html. Trentelman, K. A., Ashby, J. & Donlon, W. T. 2001. The Characterization and Conservation of Aged Aluminum Alloys: Buckminster Fuller's Dymaxion House. Boston, MA: Materials Research Society. U.S. Department of Defense. 2003. Metallic Materials and Elements for Aerospace Vehicle Structures. MIL-HDBK-5J. Washington, DC: U.S. Department of Defense. Vishay Precision Group. 2010. Measurement of Residual Stresses by the Hole-Drilling Strain Gage Method. Micro-Measurements Tech Note TN-503 [accessed 2 January 2014]. Available at: www.vishaypg.com/docs/11053/tn503.pdf Walker, Donna. 2001. The Dymaxion House Project. Advanced Materials and Processes. Wood, Sharon L. and Peter K. Dean. 2007. Methodology for the Quantitative Evaluation of the Remaining Fatigue Life of Fracture Critical Bridges. FHWA/TX-07/0-4096-2 [accessed 2 January 2014]. Available at: www.utexas.edu/research/ctr/pdf_reports/0_4096_2.pdf   20   � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Big Stuff 2015 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Alison Wain Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 03.09.2015 - 04.09.2015 Paper A paper presented at a conference or a workshop Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Maintaining the Dymaxion House in Henry Ford Museum Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Clara Deck aluminium aluminum Buckminster Fuller conservation corrosion Dymaxion fatigue industrial heritage The Henry Ford https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/21127/archive/files/f49ad8cba9dec79d7e69876fa7f68f86.pdf?Expires=1781740800&Signature=qG8vVb6GZR7BX4vcOJ5hT2IhaLpsM-PnFadpw72iAao0FjoqqLNAj%7EnkPimFGGaudmp3rVLjahwcRFGaaypxHJVuqReAMFJee83G7l5etrWROd1zLSTGEVeAxUB-AxRN8zMZ%7E929ucEoDJPg6IUKMMOGB9F%7EvKPxIniBDmqi2uYg6GqgzMoFiiktLXFNQMJhCVbfIRnwfSv-ejlK2omStE%7Ei4l774MX2RSyYTXpwmXIBPqD2uR34mybRgRamj8VBxcXc7UuP9JYeldlACCP%7EwrHRNS-RrGLx6zzToHetedF-aebxb7oxMz8tQm8I1PUWrRgerV1M2UhdxYDA-5kyIQ__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM e27d5a8cbc18b54de5550a5c5e4ef01d PDF Text Text Conservation of the aerial tuning inductor from Rugby Radio Station, Warwickshire, UK Diana McCormack, National Museums Scotland, National Museums Collection Centre, West Granton Rd, Edinburgh EH5 1JA d.mccormack@nms.ac.uk Marta Leskard, Science Museum Group, Red Barn Gate, Wroughton, Swindon, SN4 9LT marta.leskard@sciencemuseum.ac.uk Keywords: Rugby Radio; tuning coil; conservation; reassembly; cable; Tufnol; polymer; safety; open display. Abstract On January 1st 1926 the Very-Low-Frequency (16 kHz) transmitter came into service at Rugby Radio Station, Warwickshire, to transmit telegraph messages to the Commonwealth. The aerial tuning inductor from the transmitter installed at Rugby is now the centrepiece of the Information Age gallery at the Science Museum, London. The fine tuning assembly, together with supporting framework, now standing in the gallery is only a portion of the original operating apparatus. The object was donated to the museum by BT and partially dismantled for removal to the storage site at Wroughton, Wiltshire. Museum curatorial and conservation staff advised on how much of the object would be taken into the collection, and worked with BT staff to deconstruct and transport the object to get it safely to its new home. Conservation work was then begun on the components of the object, to clean, repair and stabilise it so that it could be safely and effectively exhibited on open display to the public. Museum conservators worked with the heavy-lifting contractors from Constantine to rebuild the tuning coil at the centre of the gallery, in advance of other installation works. Conservators worked with the curator to ensure the object was displayed in a meaningful way and to retain as much as possible of the visible functionality of the assembly. Background In 1923, with the purchase of 920 acres of land at Rugby in the West Midlands of England, the General Post Office of Great Britain began the building of Rugby Radio in order to provide a Government station equal in power to any other in the world. This was partly for strategic purposes and partly to prevent an absolute monopoly by the Marconi Company who had applied a few years earlier for licences for the construction of eighteen wireless stations throughout the British Empire. The Hillmorton site was approximately 340 feet above sea level and was chosen to accommodate 12 250metre high masts, each of which was placed a quarter of a mile apart in an irregular octagon surrounding the station buildings. Twentyseven miles of copper wire in total formed two aerial sections which could be connected within the station buildings for extreme power. The system had an efficiency of about 29% at 16 kHz. 1 �Showing the Hillmorton site in Warwickshire. The tuning coils of the transmitter were wound with Litzendraht cables consisting of 6,561 strands of No 36 SWG copper wire, each strand insulated with enamel and one covering of cotton or silk. The formers were hex-frames of American white-wood (Liriodendron tulipifera), the external side being 7ft 9in (2.325m) in the largest former, and the turns were 6in apart. Five formers of eight turns each formed the aerial coil, three formers of four turns each the primary, and one former of two turns the coupling coil. The transmitter itself was designed to operate at a frequency of 16kHz, with a wavelength of 18,750 metres. Rugby Radio Station began transmitting very low frequency (VLF) signals worldwide on 1 January 1926 using the call sign GBR. Its VLF waves could follow the curvature of the Earth to travel very long distances, enabling one-way communication via Morse code. It transmitted wireless telegraph messages from the British Foreign Office, standard time signals from Greenwich, news bulletins, personal telegrams and Christmas greetings. With the advent of war in September 1939 and the suspension of most radio telephone overseas services, the transmitter became of vital importance to the Navy and other shipping interests. In later years Rugby Radio Station played an important role in both the Cold War and the Falklands War, as its very low frequency signals could be picked up by submarines. The VLF transmitter also broadcast time signals twice daily and, in 1951, added the transmission of reference Modulated Standard Frequencies (MSF). The tuning coil was damaged by fire in 1943 when the woodwork on the roof of the main station housing the VLF Transmitters became ignited due to the radiation effect from GBR. Because of its importance to the Navy, it was rebuilt and operational again within six months. There were very minor changes from the original design with American Whitewood (Poplar) used to reconstruct the formers. In 1965-67, the transmitter was rebuilt to broadcast more stable MSF but Sitka Spruce was substituted for the Whitewood as it was more easily available and had almost the same essential straight grain structure. The trunnion 2 �frameworks and formers were pegged together with heavy duty polymer dowels as metal dowels would have interfered with the long wave reception. On 1 April 2003 at 00.21 hrs the 16 kHz very-low-frequency transmissions from Rugby ceased as BT (British Telecom - the successor to GPO) lost the contract to transmit the MSF signal. A year later the twelve masts were demolished. BT Heritage and Archives circulated details of the tuning coil and the Science Museum accepted the donation after site visits in September and October 2004 were made by John Liffen, Curator, and Marta Leskard, Conservation & Collections Care Manager, to determine whether it would be possible to both store and eventually re-erect the coil for display. Showing the aerial tuning inductor as seen in situ by Science Museum staff. Acquisition of the object Dismantling of the coil was undertaken by BT high riggers and Science Museum conservators through November and December and the parts were transported to the Wroughton storage site in January 2005. The aerial lead-out frame and two longitudinal support beams which supported it and the two trunnion frameworks remained at Rugby as the aerial lead-out frame was still in use. It was decided in 2011 that the Rugby tuning coil (RTC) should be re-erected as the centrepiece landmark exhibit in the Information Age Gallery. Owing to the restricted height of the gallery (approx. 7m) it was accepted that the lower support trestles would have to be omitted. The lowest part would therefore be the two longitudinal beams which meant another trip to Rugby for Conservation staff. The two beams, no longer being used by BT, were retrieved but despite a stellar attempt, the aerial lead-out frame had to be left behind. 3 �Trial reassembly for display Two trial reassemblies were also required to ensure that the coil could be erected in the gallery; one to confirm the measurements of the total height and one to find a way to lift the formers onto the axles which were supported by the trunnion frameworks. While the measuring was carried out in the hangar where the RTC parts were stored, the trial reassembly was done in Wroughton’s Conservation facility (the Engineering Building) where the ceiling height was barely higher than that of the gallery. The trial reassembly was carried out by staff from Constantine Ltd. who were contracted to install all the large objects on gallery, supervised by Conservation staff. Despite having an overhead gantry in the conservation work space, only equipment that could be used on gallery was employed in the reassembly, to make sure that it was possible to lift the formers up and onto the axles. Only one former was installed during the trial. Showing trial reassembly in progress in the Engineering Building at Wroughton. While the trial was successful in ensuring that the RTC could be erected in the tight gallery space, the exercise revealed potential issues, with splits occurring along the grain of the wood forming the hex-frames and loss of strength in the polymer dowels. The brittle insulating tape covering the cotton-wrapped copper wire was damaged and shedding large fragments when the cables were moved around. 4 �Conservation Breaking down the coils Each of the formers comprised a cable/cables wound into the hexagonal framework, resembling a spider’s web. The cables were covered in insulating tape and then a hard insulating cover was tied around this. The formers had been stored in the partially dismantled state in which they had been removed from the radio station building. This was with a onethird section of the hexagonal formers removed, leaving the cables attached to the remaining two-thirds framework, but trailing on one side. The trailing portion of cable on each former had of course been stripped of its hard covers in order to remove it from the framework. Although they were not in storage for that long, the cables had sagged and the hard covers had begun to distort and become set into a slightly bent shape. The team from Constantine came to Wroughton to break down the partially dismantled formers into their component parts, as they would be transported to the gallery. It was important that they be a part of this process alongside the conservators as it was their task to reassemble the large frameworks on gallery, so both teams needed to understand the structure as much as possible. Once broken down it was then possible to spot weak points and damage to the woodwork that could be repaired in the workshop, before transporting the pieces to gallery. The cables were individually wound onto pallets and notes and drawings were made of how each had been attached to its framework. Labels were added at appropriate marker points to be used as points of reference on gallery, to ensure that all formers were reassembled and hung in the correct orientation. Showing the team breaking down a coil, winding the cable onto a pallet. The hard covers were made from a material known commercially as Tufnol (Godwin 2014), which comprised a paper pulp moulded in resin into a half-pipe shape with a semi-circular cross-section. The covers were used in pairs to cover the cabling and tied into position with many regularly-spaced string bundles, passed around the Tufnol in a double loop and knotted on top. The covers and the string lashing had become very dusty and dirty, discoloured in places, and faded by the light. The Tufnol had also broken and split in many places, particularly on the sections of cable that had remained in the frame during storage. It was 5 �noted that the covers stripped from the cables before storage were altogether straighter and had fewer points of damage from stress under the weight of the cable. In order to clean and repair the covers, they all had to be stripped from the cables. As so many of them had effectively re-set into a slightly bent shape, and as the length of each portion of cable varied slightly from frame to frame, it was important that covers should be replaced in the same positions from which they were removed. For this reason each pair of covers was carefully labelled after removal and laid out on pallets labelled clearly to show which former they belonged to. This required more working space in the laboratory but saved time in the long run, especially for reassembly on gallery. The knotted strings holding them in place had to be cut, as it could not be untied and successfully cleaned and re-used. The string was saved in sample bags for the purposes of colour-matching with new string, and for the sake of preserving original material. Conservation of the Tufnol covers The covers were very dirty and the grime was slightly greasy in nature, but in effect ‘baked on’ by the relatively high temperatures created during the working life of the object. The cleaning process was large in scale, so a detergent was selected that could be used at a fairly low percentage concentration in water, that was environmentally sound and could safely be used and disposed of in large volumes. A solution of Vulpex at 1:7 in water was selected for its ability to effectively remove the dirt quickly, with one wash. The covers were first dampened with a moist cloth, then the detergent applied, and then rinsed twice with water alone to neutralise the surface. Care was taken not to saturate the covers entirely, and they were then laid out (still in order)to dry overnight. This process also allowed the conservator to gain familiarity with cracks and breakages in each cover, and these were noted for repair at a later date. Showing typical state of Tufnol covers before conservation, still attached to cable. There were two types of breakage that occurred in the Tufnol covers: the first was simply a failure of old adhesive that caused pieces to separate at the joints with collaring pieces; the second was a stress fracture where the material itself had given way, leaving a sharp ragged edge with a very thin surface area. The former was much easier to repair, while the second type required some further support to be put in place around it. The failed joints were readhered using HMG Paraloid B72, and held with soft clamps overnight. To add extra support to breaks discreetly, a number of new collaring pieces were cut from spare Tufnol tubes and 6 �adhered over the breakage, allowing a much greater surface area for the adhesive to make purchase on. As there were a few sections of cable that had lost their Tufnol covers, a few entirely new covers were also cut from spare tubing. This material stands out a little as it is much cleaner and straighter than the used covers, but has the benefit of being made from original BT spares, of exactly the same material as the rest, and should age to blend in with the used covers over time. Some replica covers were also made from polypropylene pipe, cut in half lengthways, and painted on the exterior with an airbrush to mimic the mottled brown colouring of the originals. These were kept aside for use in case of any further breakages or failure of repairs when the object was being reassembled on gallery – as the covers would not be under the full strain of the cable weight until this point there was still a risk that the repairs may fail at the critical point. As the original strings securing the covers had to be replaced, a new supply of acid-free, unbleached cotton twine was acquired at the same thickness as the original, and dyed to match the old string. This was done so that the string would not stand out as being new against the used covers, and appear age-appropriate. Repairs to the woodwork During the breaking down of the object some minor damage was noted to the wooden structure and it became necessary to make some repairs. The cable had been held securely in the former with the aid of a wooden Litz clamp and wedge at each point where it crossed an arm of the frame. A Litz clamp is a small wooden block of about the same width as the cable, with a concave curving hollow to allow the cable to fit into it. The ends of the formers had suffered some chipping and cracking, and many of the Litz clamps were split in two and had only been held in position by tension. Breaks were repaired with a PVA adhesive and held in G-clamps until set. However, as there was a large supply of spare parts from BT, a number of ‘new’ Litz clamps were used to replace badly broken ones, as these were much more stable. The broken and degraded originals were boxed and labelled for storage. Showing repair of wooden former in progress, clamps in place. 7 �At the centre of each former the six arms came together around a hexagonal block and were joined with wooden dowels. During the dismantling process several of these became weakened or damaged, so it was necessary to strengthen the central joins with new dowels in some places. The new dowels used were again material supplied by BT as spares. In two of the formers the breakages were considered to be a risk to the structural integrity of the object and new dowels were inserted at extra points. This was an invasive procedure but necessary for the stability of the overall structure. Showing new dowels being inserted around the central joints of one former. Where the wooden beams had heavy deposits of greasy soot, bird droppings or footprints, this was cleaned with a mild detergent in distilled water. This was not a complete cleaning of the wooden framework, but brightened the surface and removed any disfiguring marks and dirt that could be transferred to other components. Conservation of the cables The cables had originally been covered in an insulating tape, similar to modern PVC electrical insulation tape. This had become very hard and brittle and was cracked, broken and flaking in many places, with large areas of loss. 8 �Showing the original yellow insulating tape with large areas of loss and shed fragments. It was necessary that the cables be bound in order for them to fit properly into the frames, as this tape provided the tension needed to hold the cable together and stop the cotton-covered copper strands from unwinding. The original tape could not be preserved for the most part as it was too brittle and degraded. It was necessary to find a similar material that could be used to replace this tape, but replacing like-for-like was not considered a desirable option, given that PVC tape would emit harmful gases over time and degrade in a similar fashion. A selfamalgamating butyl rubber tape was selected as the best option. This was selected because it would not bond to the object itself, and as it is based on polyisobutylene it would not cause corrosion of the copper wire, leave deposits on the object or give out harmful emissions to the gallery. Synthetic rubber is much more durable than organic rubber and withstands a much wider range of temperatures before becoming hard or embrittled. It had the added benefit of being an insulating tape, so although it no longer needed to perform this function, it was in line with the function of this layer on the cable and suitably thin but strong enough to perform this task. It is accepted, however, that given the lack of suitable environmental control in the gallery, the rubber tape will inevitably degrade over time (Williams 1997), but it was also considered likely that by the time the tape had degraded to the point where it no longer supported the cables, the object would most likely have been taken off display and disassembled, allowing either its removal or replacement as desired. This tape was also black in colour so could be used discreetly without drawing attention where it was visible between Tufnol covers. 9 �Showing the black self-amalgamating tape being applied over bare areas of cable. Cable 1 and cable 4 were found to have suffered from a fungal attack on the cotton bindings of the copper wire, causing powdering and disintegration of the cotton. This was most likely due to water ingress in storage affecting some parts of the cables that came into contact with it. Cable 1 was in worse condition than cable 4, but both required treatment with pure IMS to kill mould. Tests were done to consolidate the damaged areas to prevent loss of the cotton bindings, but the damage was too extensive and the powdery fragments had to be removed with a brush and vacuum in the worst-affected areas. A 5% Klucel G in isopropanol was used to consolidate as far as possible in areas around the damage to prevent further loss. The cables were then bound in self-amalgamating tape as done elsewhere. Showing cleaning of affected areas (left) and damage to cable (right) from mould. 10 �Repair of guide poles One of the six guide poles was broken into three sections at the joints and needed to be repaired. Due to the length of these pieces it was necessary to dowel the break with steel rod, which was held in place with an epoxy putty. This pole was also placed into the lowermost position at the base of the coils, to ensure that if the joints were to fail again there would not be any damage to the object as a whole. Twelve replica parts were manufactured from Perspex to replace missing or broken guide plates. These were fastened to the ends of the former arms in pairs, and had a large central hole through which the guide poles were slotted. These ensured that the formers remained on an even orientation during use or when the coils were repositioned. The replica pieces were painted brown to match the originals, but given a matt finish so as to be easily distinguishable from the originals in future. Showing the placement of polymer plates on ends of formers (before poles installed). Replacing the polymer fixings The original polymer dowels were replaced with steel bolts to give the structure strength, as it was not known whether the polymer could withstand any strain. The dowels could have been subjected to strain tests to find their breaking point, but it was considered much safer to simply replace them with steel, as the structure was to be on open display and safety considerations were paramount. The original material was labelled and packed in storage. It was, however, important to disguise the steel because the original object could not have functioned with this material in its structure. Any steel would have interfered with the signal and upset the fine tuning. All the new steel was therefore painted in exposed areas with an enamel paint to match the brown colour of the nylon polymer. During reassembly some of 11 �this paint was inevitably chipped by tightening the nuts with spanners, so it was necessary to touch-in these areas once the object was assembled. A note on environment and monitoring The conditions in the hangar storage were of a much higher relative humidity (RH) than was desirable, and so the object was moved to the Engineering Building workshops to allow it to acclimatise to more mid-range conditions there, before going to gallery where the environmental conditions were generally warm and dry. The acclimatisation period was approximately one year. A Hanwell Woodwatch WW01sensor was attached to one of the beams of the larger tower when it was moved to the Engineering Building, in order to monitor whether the drier conditions would cause the object any distress. The sensor is designed to record acoustic emissions as an indicator of deformation by micro-damage within the wood structure. As an unfortunate consequence of moving the object to the workshop, the increase in background interference noise was also significant, rendering the data rather opaque. It was also intended that the monitoring would be continued on gallery once the object was reassembled, but unfortunately the base-build conditions produced so much vibration, noise and dust that the monitoring was not possible during this period, when most change would be expected to occur in the structural material. This exercise perhaps demonstrates that other methods of observing such changes should be researched further. Transport to gallery The various components of the object were transported to the gallery on a number of pallets by Constantine Ltd. Smaller parts or fragile pieces were transported by conservation staff along with the necessary hand tools and personal protective gear. An area at the centre of the gallery was cordoned off for the reassembly work, as the basebuild was in progress at this time making the gallery effectively a building site. Reassembly on gallery An area at the centre of the gallery was cordoned off to allow for safe working and reassembly of the object. The object was to be positioned on a copper floor plate, which was already installed, and covered with plywood boarding so that it would not be marked by the ongoing work. The end tower was carefully positioned by measuring the length and spacing required for the complete object within this copper-floored area, and this tower was not moved from this position once work began. The three trunnion beams were then positioned and the opposite end tower moved into position to complete the basic framework. It was of course necessary to remove the second tower every time a former was added to the object, and then replace the tower to secure the structure while the next former was being prepared. The floor space allowed only for two formers to be laid out at any one time, so the formers had to be added in this manner, one at a time, rather than all six being prepared before assembly began. One former was assembled and one assembled former was dressed at any one time. 12 �Showing the working area on gallery, with one former complete and one in progress. In order to support the trunnion beams when the tower was removed, the central T-support was placed in position; once the tower had been replaced, the T-support was removed, and the former moved along the trunnion to its proper position. Once the first three formers were in position, the T-support was replaced and did not have to be removed each time another was added. This T-frame supported the trunnion beams at the centre of the object, spreading the weight of the formers and stopping the frame from sagging in the middle. A copy of the T-frame was also made by Constantine and two other prop beams, for use when the frame was carrying the weight of four and five formers, as extra support was needed at this stage when removing the tower. Once a former was assembled it was dressed by first winding the cable into position. Where it crossed an arm of the frame, the cable was held by a Litz clamp and a wedge. The wedges were tapped into place with a mallet to secure the clamps, taking care not to force them too far or split the clamps from too much force. Once the cable was fitted the next step was to dress the cable. It was at this point that the Tufnol covers were re-attached in their pairs, and tied into place with the string that had been prepared in the workshop. The covers retained faded marks showing where the string had originally been positioned, allowing just the right number and spacing of ties to be added. The guide plates were then attached the ends of the arms in pairs, and the former was ready to be raised onto the frame. Each former was first braced at the centre by placing a custom-fitted wooden board around the blocks, to support the structure as it was raised. This measure was introduced after the trial reassembly showed that the central joints came under too much tension in the lifting process. It was then lifted on the gantry and brought vertical, before the brace could be 13 �removed and the former hung on the trunnion beams. The second tower was then put back in place and slings were then used around the former to draw it along the trunnions to its proper position. Showing the first completed former with cable being raised and hung on the framework. When all six formers were in place the guide poles could be inserted to complete the object. As the base-build works were to continue for several months before the work would become dust-free, the object was covered with two large tarpaulins to protect it from the worst of the working dust. When building works were finished the tuning coil was un-sheeted and dusted before the gallery opened. Display Considerations Configuration of the formers The formers were spaced according to their positions as shown in a photograph of the object in their last working configuration, in accordance with how the curator wished for the object to be presented. In order to move the formers along the trunnion beams they were slung around the central point and manually pulled and pushed into place. The height restrictions in the gallery meant that the wheels to which the cables were originally attached could not be displayed, as these were supported by the lower trunnion beams that were excluded. This meant that the cable ends had to fall loose, and it was decided to allow them to drape to the floor and be gathered beneath the object. The ends were lifted onto mounts so as not to sit in contact with the copper sheeting. This had the added bonus of keeping the loose ends out of reach of the public. 14 �Design echoing lost components Once works were complete, the copper floor beneath the tuning coil could be uncovered without fear of damage. This floor was incorporated into the design to echo the copper ceiling plate at Rugby that was positioned above the apparatus after the fire in 1943. A further design measure introduced was the kerbed edge on the copper floor, which made a clear perimeter around the object to discourage the public from approaching too close to the object on open display. Showing the finished object on display in the Information Age gallery. Conclusion The reassembly of the tuning coil was achieved by close collaboration with a team of heavylifting handlers from Constantine Ltd, and required some compromises in terms of conservation. These mainly concerned safety requirements and ensuring the stability of a large structure on open display to the public. It was attempted to make these compromises invisible to the public by making the object appear as it did when in its working state. Although the object as it now stands is only a portion of the apparatus at Rugby, it represents the almost-complete fine tuning coil assembly. It is hoped that this communicates to the public a sense of the larger site works and instils an interest in the history of Rugby Radio Station as a whole. The object stands floor-to-ceiling at the centre of the Information Age gallery, which was opened to the public in October 2014. 15 �Acknowledgements The authors would like to thank the Information Age project team at the Science Museum, particularly: Dr Esther Beeby, Conservator; Mr John Liffen, Curator; the Wroughton staff; and, the team from Constantine Ltd. The authors also gratefully acknowledge the support of the Clothworkers’ Foundation, National Museums Scotland and the Science Museum for aiding the delivery of this paper. Biographies Diana McCormack entered conservation from a background in archaeology and research, studying at Durham University as an Objects Conservator and training with the Wiltshire County Council Conservation & Museums Advisory Service. She has subsequently worked as a Project Conservator, for English Heritage, the Science Museum, and National Museums Scotland. Marta Leskard is Conservation & Collections Care Manager for the Science Museum Group at the Wroughton storage facility. She is also a doctoral student at the University of Bath, studying the use of innovative materials in effective environmental control for museum storage buildings. References Godwin, R. 2014. A History of Tufnol, accessed 2014, http://ahistoryoftufnol.org/index.html Hancock, M. 2011.The Official History of Rugby Radio Station, © British Telecommunications plc., accessed 2015, http://www.subbrit.org.uk/sbsites/sites/r/rugby_radio/indexr69.shtml Williams, S. 1997. Care of Objects Made from Rubber and Plastic: CCI Notes 15/1, Canadian Conservation Institute. 16 � https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/21127/archive/files/b0f9a1fc1da9f3153f50228e9744a31e.pdf?Expires=1781740800&Signature=PqyI2mAxE1uIap8mDrCZny3J4LO0FUyKDdPdVDtb0jhhZwx3Ne%7E354sbf3TiEv9irbobleicWbnMMzZK7VrZE-tBxfpKD2xeclAT64Xk61h-z41nRIk9DW6xI8MVWqqIKCl7KHa75yXSRNv-bZe7w60atQLhoaI7ZOz65f7zWMCxk386jTP8FRxLnReMPkqH1SZtdf6JeyDkxD243TqRO2PlyrUKSfABbDB3vo7OZ4VBgq8GIFefj3KpGRX1jtpt1wPh7sHXFxCAeZvEMcVLL5Idnt3JAixTaF2abYsF39fNSjiCvEg1gOmRkL%7EVyaxdDtUHHDvGu0EjUtZaGfDL2Q__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM e27d5a8cbc18b54de5550a5c5e4ef01d PDF Text Text Conservation of the aerial tuning inductor from Rugby Radio Station, Warwickshire, UK Diana McCormack, National Museums Scotland, National Museums Collection Centre, West Granton Rd, Edinburgh EH5 1JA d.mccormack@nms.ac.uk Marta Leskard, Science Museum Group, Red Barn Gate, Wroughton, Swindon, SN4 9LT marta.leskard@sciencemuseum.ac.uk Keywords: Rugby Radio; tuning coil; conservation; reassembly; cable; Tufnol; polymer; safety; open display. Abstract On January 1st 1926 the Very-Low-Frequency (16 kHz) transmitter came into service at Rugby Radio Station, Warwickshire, to transmit telegraph messages to the Commonwealth. The aerial tuning inductor from the transmitter installed at Rugby is now the centrepiece of the Information Age gallery at the Science Museum, London. The fine tuning assembly, together with supporting framework, now standing in the gallery is only a portion of the original operating apparatus. The object was donated to the museum by BT and partially dismantled for removal to the storage site at Wroughton, Wiltshire. Museum curatorial and conservation staff advised on how much of the object would be taken into the collection, and worked with BT staff to deconstruct and transport the object to get it safely to its new home. Conservation work was then begun on the components of the object, to clean, repair and stabilise it so that it could be safely and effectively exhibited on open display to the public. Museum conservators worked with the heavy-lifting contractors from Constantine to rebuild the tuning coil at the centre of the gallery, in advance of other installation works. Conservators worked with the curator to ensure the object was displayed in a meaningful way and to retain as much as possible of the visible functionality of the assembly. Background In 1923, with the purchase of 920 acres of land at Rugby in the West Midlands of England, the General Post Office of Great Britain began the building of Rugby Radio in order to provide a Government station equal in power to any other in the world. This was partly for strategic purposes and partly to prevent an absolute monopoly by the Marconi Company who had applied a few years earlier for licences for the construction of eighteen wireless stations throughout the British Empire. The Hillmorton site was approximately 340 feet above sea level and was chosen to accommodate 12 250metre high masts, each of which was placed a quarter of a mile apart in an irregular octagon surrounding the station buildings. Twentyseven miles of copper wire in total formed two aerial sections which could be connected within the station buildings for extreme power. The system had an efficiency of about 29% at 16 kHz. 1 �Showing the Hillmorton site in Warwickshire. The tuning coils of the transmitter were wound with Litzendraht cables consisting of 6,561 strands of No 36 SWG copper wire, each strand insulated with enamel and one covering of cotton or silk. The formers were hex-frames of American white-wood (Liriodendron tulipifera), the external side being 7ft 9in (2.325m) in the largest former, and the turns were 6in apart. Five formers of eight turns each formed the aerial coil, three formers of four turns each the primary, and one former of two turns the coupling coil. The transmitter itself was designed to operate at a frequency of 16kHz, with a wavelength of 18,750 metres. Rugby Radio Station began transmitting very low frequency (VLF) signals worldwide on 1 January 1926 using the call sign GBR. Its VLF waves could follow the curvature of the Earth to travel very long distances, enabling one-way communication via Morse code. It transmitted wireless telegraph messages from the British Foreign Office, standard time signals from Greenwich, news bulletins, personal telegrams and Christmas greetings. With the advent of war in September 1939 and the suspension of most radio telephone overseas services, the transmitter became of vital importance to the Navy and other shipping interests. In later years Rugby Radio Station played an important role in both the Cold War and the Falklands War, as its very low frequency signals could be picked up by submarines. The VLF transmitter also broadcast time signals twice daily and, in 1951, added the transmission of reference Modulated Standard Frequencies (MSF). The tuning coil was damaged by fire in 1943 when the woodwork on the roof of the main station housing the VLF Transmitters became ignited due to the radiation effect from GBR. Because of its importance to the Navy, it was rebuilt and operational again within six months. There were very minor changes from the original design with American Whitewood (Poplar) used to reconstruct the formers. In 1965-67, the transmitter was rebuilt to broadcast more stable MSF but Sitka Spruce was substituted for the Whitewood as it was more easily available and had almost the same essential straight grain structure. The trunnion 2 �frameworks and formers were pegged together with heavy duty polymer dowels as metal dowels would have interfered with the long wave reception. On 1 April 2003 at 00.21 hrs the 16 kHz very-low-frequency transmissions from Rugby ceased as BT (British Telecom - the successor to GPO) lost the contract to transmit the MSF signal. A year later the twelve masts were demolished. BT Heritage and Archives circulated details of the tuning coil and the Science Museum accepted the donation after site visits in September and October 2004 were made by John Liffen, Curator, and Marta Leskard, Conservation & Collections Care Manager, to determine whether it would be possible to both store and eventually re-erect the coil for display. Showing the aerial tuning inductor as seen in situ by Science Museum staff. Acquisition of the object Dismantling of the coil was undertaken by BT high riggers and Science Museum conservators through November and December and the parts were transported to the Wroughton storage site in January 2005. The aerial lead-out frame and two longitudinal support beams which supported it and the two trunnion frameworks remained at Rugby as the aerial lead-out frame was still in use. It was decided in 2011 that the Rugby tuning coil (RTC) should be re-erected as the centrepiece landmark exhibit in the Information Age Gallery. Owing to the restricted height of the gallery (approx. 7m) it was accepted that the lower support trestles would have to be omitted. The lowest part would therefore be the two longitudinal beams which meant another trip to Rugby for Conservation staff. The two beams, no longer being used by BT, were retrieved but despite a stellar attempt, the aerial lead-out frame had to be left behind. 3 �Trial reassembly for display Two trial reassemblies were also required to ensure that the coil could be erected in the gallery; one to confirm the measurements of the total height and one to find a way to lift the formers onto the axles which were supported by the trunnion frameworks. While the measuring was carried out in the hangar where the RTC parts were stored, the trial reassembly was done in Wroughton’s Conservation facility (the Engineering Building) where the ceiling height was barely higher than that of the gallery. The trial reassembly was carried out by staff from Constantine Ltd. who were contracted to install all the large objects on gallery, supervised by Conservation staff. Despite having an overhead gantry in the conservation work space, only equipment that could be used on gallery was employed in the reassembly, to make sure that it was possible to lift the formers up and onto the axles. Only one former was installed during the trial. Showing trial reassembly in progress in the Engineering Building at Wroughton. While the trial was successful in ensuring that the RTC could be erected in the tight gallery space, the exercise revealed potential issues, with splits occurring along the grain of the wood forming the hex-frames and loss of strength in the polymer dowels. The brittle insulating tape covering the cotton-wrapped copper wire was damaged and shedding large fragments when the cables were moved around. 4 �Conservation Breaking down the coils Each of the formers comprised a cable/cables wound into the hexagonal framework, resembling a spider’s web. The cables were covered in insulating tape and then a hard insulating cover was tied around this. The formers had been stored in the partially dismantled state in which they had been removed from the radio station building. This was with a onethird section of the hexagonal formers removed, leaving the cables attached to the remaining two-thirds framework, but trailing on one side. The trailing portion of cable on each former had of course been stripped of its hard covers in order to remove it from the framework. Although they were not in storage for that long, the cables had sagged and the hard covers had begun to distort and become set into a slightly bent shape. The team from Constantine came to Wroughton to break down the partially dismantled formers into their component parts, as they would be transported to the gallery. It was important that they be a part of this process alongside the conservators as it was their task to reassemble the large frameworks on gallery, so both teams needed to understand the structure as much as possible. Once broken down it was then possible to spot weak points and damage to the woodwork that could be repaired in the workshop, before transporting the pieces to gallery. The cables were individually wound onto pallets and notes and drawings were made of how each had been attached to its framework. Labels were added at appropriate marker points to be used as points of reference on gallery, to ensure that all formers were reassembled and hung in the correct orientation. Showing the team breaking down a coil, winding the cable onto a pallet. The hard covers were made from a material known commercially as Tufnol (Godwin 2014), which comprised a paper pulp moulded in resin into a half-pipe shape with a semi-circular cross-section. The covers were used in pairs to cover the cabling and tied into position with many regularly-spaced string bundles, passed around the Tufnol in a double loop and knotted on top. The covers and the string lashing had become very dusty and dirty, discoloured in places, and faded by the light. The Tufnol had also broken and split in many places, particularly on the sections of cable that had remained in the frame during storage. It was 5 �noted that the covers stripped from the cables before storage were altogether straighter and had fewer points of damage from stress under the weight of the cable. In order to clean and repair the covers, they all had to be stripped from the cables. As so many of them had effectively re-set into a slightly bent shape, and as the length of each portion of cable varied slightly from frame to frame, it was important that covers should be replaced in the same positions from which they were removed. For this reason each pair of covers was carefully labelled after removal and laid out on pallets labelled clearly to show which former they belonged to. This required more working space in the laboratory but saved time in the long run, especially for reassembly on gallery. The knotted strings holding them in place had to be cut, as it could not be untied and successfully cleaned and re-used. The string was saved in sample bags for the purposes of colour-matching with new string, and for the sake of preserving original material. Conservation of the Tufnol covers The covers were very dirty and the grime was slightly greasy in nature, but in effect ‘baked on’ by the relatively high temperatures created during the working life of the object. The cleaning process was large in scale, so a detergent was selected that could be used at a fairly low percentage concentration in water, that was environmentally sound and could safely be used and disposed of in large volumes. A solution of Vulpex at 1:7 in water was selected for its ability to effectively remove the dirt quickly, with one wash. The covers were first dampened with a moist cloth, then the detergent applied, and then rinsed twice with water alone to neutralise the surface. Care was taken not to saturate the covers entirely, and they were then laid out (still in order)to dry overnight. This process also allowed the conservator to gain familiarity with cracks and breakages in each cover, and these were noted for repair at a later date. Showing typical state of Tufnol covers before conservation, still attached to cable. There were two types of breakage that occurred in the Tufnol covers: the first was simply a failure of old adhesive that caused pieces to separate at the joints with collaring pieces; the second was a stress fracture where the material itself had given way, leaving a sharp ragged edge with a very thin surface area. The former was much easier to repair, while the second type required some further support to be put in place around it. The failed joints were readhered using HMG Paraloid B72, and held with soft clamps overnight. To add extra support to breaks discreetly, a number of new collaring pieces were cut from spare Tufnol tubes and 6 �adhered over the breakage, allowing a much greater surface area for the adhesive to make purchase on. As there were a few sections of cable that had lost their Tufnol covers, a few entirely new covers were also cut from spare tubing. This material stands out a little as it is much cleaner and straighter than the used covers, but has the benefit of being made from original BT spares, of exactly the same material as the rest, and should age to blend in with the used covers over time. Some replica covers were also made from polypropylene pipe, cut in half lengthways, and painted on the exterior with an airbrush to mimic the mottled brown colouring of the originals. These were kept aside for use in case of any further breakages or failure of repairs when the object was being reassembled on gallery – as the covers would not be under the full strain of the cable weight until this point there was still a risk that the repairs may fail at the critical point. As the original strings securing the covers had to be replaced, a new supply of acid-free, unbleached cotton twine was acquired at the same thickness as the original, and dyed to match the old string. This was done so that the string would not stand out as being new against the used covers, and appear age-appropriate. Repairs to the woodwork During the breaking down of the object some minor damage was noted to the wooden structure and it became necessary to make some repairs. The cable had been held securely in the former with the aid of a wooden Litz clamp and wedge at each point where it crossed an arm of the frame. A Litz clamp is a small wooden block of about the same width as the cable, with a concave curving hollow to allow the cable to fit into it. The ends of the formers had suffered some chipping and cracking, and many of the Litz clamps were split in two and had only been held in position by tension. Breaks were repaired with a PVA adhesive and held in G-clamps until set. However, as there was a large supply of spare parts from BT, a number of ‘new’ Litz clamps were used to replace badly broken ones, as these were much more stable. The broken and degraded originals were boxed and labelled for storage. Showing repair of wooden former in progress, clamps in place. 7 �At the centre of each former the six arms came together around a hexagonal block and were joined with wooden dowels. During the dismantling process several of these became weakened or damaged, so it was necessary to strengthen the central joins with new dowels in some places. The new dowels used were again material supplied by BT as spares. In two of the formers the breakages were considered to be a risk to the structural integrity of the object and new dowels were inserted at extra points. This was an invasive procedure but necessary for the stability of the overall structure. Showing new dowels being inserted around the central joints of one former. Where the wooden beams had heavy deposits of greasy soot, bird droppings or footprints, this was cleaned with a mild detergent in distilled water. This was not a complete cleaning of the wooden framework, but brightened the surface and removed any disfiguring marks and dirt that could be transferred to other components. Conservation of the cables The cables had originally been covered in an insulating tape, similar to modern PVC electrical insulation tape. This had become very hard and brittle and was cracked, broken and flaking in many places, with large areas of loss. 8 �Showing the original yellow insulating tape with large areas of loss and shed fragments. It was necessary that the cables be bound in order for them to fit properly into the frames, as this tape provided the tension needed to hold the cable together and stop the cotton-covered copper strands from unwinding. The original tape could not be preserved for the most part as it was too brittle and degraded. It was necessary to find a similar material that could be used to replace this tape, but replacing like-for-like was not considered a desirable option, given that PVC tape would emit harmful gases over time and degrade in a similar fashion. A selfamalgamating butyl rubber tape was selected as the best option. This was selected because it would not bond to the object itself, and as it is based on polyisobutylene it would not cause corrosion of the copper wire, leave deposits on the object or give out harmful emissions to the gallery. Synthetic rubber is much more durable than organic rubber and withstands a much wider range of temperatures before becoming hard or embrittled. It had the added benefit of being an insulating tape, so although it no longer needed to perform this function, it was in line with the function of this layer on the cable and suitably thin but strong enough to perform this task. It is accepted, however, that given the lack of suitable environmental control in the gallery, the rubber tape will inevitably degrade over time (Williams 1997), but it was also considered likely that by the time the tape had degraded to the point where it no longer supported the cables, the object would most likely have been taken off display and disassembled, allowing either its removal or replacement as desired. This tape was also black in colour so could be used discreetly without drawing attention where it was visible between Tufnol covers. 9 �Showing the black self-amalgamating tape being applied over bare areas of cable. Cable 1 and cable 4 were found to have suffered from a fungal attack on the cotton bindings of the copper wire, causing powdering and disintegration of the cotton. This was most likely due to water ingress in storage affecting some parts of the cables that came into contact with it. Cable 1 was in worse condition than cable 4, but both required treatment with pure IMS to kill mould. Tests were done to consolidate the damaged areas to prevent loss of the cotton bindings, but the damage was too extensive and the powdery fragments had to be removed with a brush and vacuum in the worst-affected areas. A 5% Klucel G in isopropanol was used to consolidate as far as possible in areas around the damage to prevent further loss. The cables were then bound in self-amalgamating tape as done elsewhere. Showing cleaning of affected areas (left) and damage to cable (right) from mould. 10 �Repair of guide poles One of the six guide poles was broken into three sections at the joints and needed to be repaired. Due to the length of these pieces it was necessary to dowel the break with steel rod, which was held in place with an epoxy putty. This pole was also placed into the lowermost position at the base of the coils, to ensure that if the joints were to fail again there would not be any damage to the object as a whole. Twelve replica parts were manufactured from Perspex to replace missing or broken guide plates. These were fastened to the ends of the former arms in pairs, and had a large central hole through which the guide poles were slotted. These ensured that the formers remained on an even orientation during use or when the coils were repositioned. The replica pieces were painted brown to match the originals, but given a matt finish so as to be easily distinguishable from the originals in future. Showing the placement of polymer plates on ends of formers (before poles installed). Replacing the polymer fixings The original polymer dowels were replaced with steel bolts to give the structure strength, as it was not known whether the polymer could withstand any strain. The dowels could have been subjected to strain tests to find their breaking point, but it was considered much safer to simply replace them with steel, as the structure was to be on open display and safety considerations were paramount. The original material was labelled and packed in storage. It was, however, important to disguise the steel because the original object could not have functioned with this material in its structure. Any steel would have interfered with the signal and upset the fine tuning. All the new steel was therefore painted in exposed areas with an enamel paint to match the brown colour of the nylon polymer. During reassembly some of 11 �this paint was inevitably chipped by tightening the nuts with spanners, so it was necessary to touch-in these areas once the object was assembled. A note on environment and monitoring The conditions in the hangar storage were of a much higher relative humidity (RH) than was desirable, and so the object was moved to the Engineering Building workshops to allow it to acclimatise to more mid-range conditions there, before going to gallery where the environmental conditions were generally warm and dry. The acclimatisation period was approximately one year. A Hanwell Woodwatch WW01sensor was attached to one of the beams of the larger tower when it was moved to the Engineering Building, in order to monitor whether the drier conditions would cause the object any distress. The sensor is designed to record acoustic emissions as an indicator of deformation by micro-damage within the wood structure. As an unfortunate consequence of moving the object to the workshop, the increase in background interference noise was also significant, rendering the data rather opaque. It was also intended that the monitoring would be continued on gallery once the object was reassembled, but unfortunately the base-build conditions produced so much vibration, noise and dust that the monitoring was not possible during this period, when most change would be expected to occur in the structural material. This exercise perhaps demonstrates that other methods of observing such changes should be researched further. Transport to gallery The various components of the object were transported to the gallery on a number of pallets by Constantine Ltd. Smaller parts or fragile pieces were transported by conservation staff along with the necessary hand tools and personal protective gear. An area at the centre of the gallery was cordoned off for the reassembly work, as the basebuild was in progress at this time making the gallery effectively a building site. Reassembly on gallery An area at the centre of the gallery was cordoned off to allow for safe working and reassembly of the object. The object was to be positioned on a copper floor plate, which was already installed, and covered with plywood boarding so that it would not be marked by the ongoing work. The end tower was carefully positioned by measuring the length and spacing required for the complete object within this copper-floored area, and this tower was not moved from this position once work began. The three trunnion beams were then positioned and the opposite end tower moved into position to complete the basic framework. It was of course necessary to remove the second tower every time a former was added to the object, and then replace the tower to secure the structure while the next former was being prepared. The floor space allowed only for two formers to be laid out at any one time, so the formers had to be added in this manner, one at a time, rather than all six being prepared before assembly began. One former was assembled and one assembled former was dressed at any one time. 12 �Showing the working area on gallery, with one former complete and one in progress. In order to support the trunnion beams when the tower was removed, the central T-support was placed in position; once the tower had been replaced, the T-support was removed, and the former moved along the trunnion to its proper position. Once the first three formers were in position, the T-support was replaced and did not have to be removed each time another was added. This T-frame supported the trunnion beams at the centre of the object, spreading the weight of the formers and stopping the frame from sagging in the middle. A copy of the T-frame was also made by Constantine and two other prop beams, for use when the frame was carrying the weight of four and five formers, as extra support was needed at this stage when removing the tower. Once a former was assembled it was dressed by first winding the cable into position. Where it crossed an arm of the frame, the cable was held by a Litz clamp and a wedge. The wedges were tapped into place with a mallet to secure the clamps, taking care not to force them too far or split the clamps from too much force. Once the cable was fitted the next step was to dress the cable. It was at this point that the Tufnol covers were re-attached in their pairs, and tied into place with the string that had been prepared in the workshop. The covers retained faded marks showing where the string had originally been positioned, allowing just the right number and spacing of ties to be added. The guide plates were then attached the ends of the arms in pairs, and the former was ready to be raised onto the frame. Each former was first braced at the centre by placing a custom-fitted wooden board around the blocks, to support the structure as it was raised. This measure was introduced after the trial reassembly showed that the central joints came under too much tension in the lifting process. It was then lifted on the gantry and brought vertical, before the brace could be 13 �removed and the former hung on the trunnion beams. The second tower was then put back in place and slings were then used around the former to draw it along the trunnions to its proper position. Showing the first completed former with cable being raised and hung on the framework. When all six formers were in place the guide poles could be inserted to complete the object. As the base-build works were to continue for several months before the work would become dust-free, the object was covered with two large tarpaulins to protect it from the worst of the working dust. When building works were finished the tuning coil was un-sheeted and dusted before the gallery opened. Display Considerations Configuration of the formers The formers were spaced according to their positions as shown in a photograph of the object in their last working configuration, in accordance with how the curator wished for the object to be presented. In order to move the formers along the trunnion beams they were slung around the central point and manually pulled and pushed into place. The height restrictions in the gallery meant that the wheels to which the cables were originally attached could not be displayed, as these were supported by the lower trunnion beams that were excluded. This meant that the cable ends had to fall loose, and it was decided to allow them to drape to the floor and be gathered beneath the object. The ends were lifted onto mounts so as not to sit in contact with the copper sheeting. This had the added bonus of keeping the loose ends out of reach of the public. 14 �Design echoing lost components Once works were complete, the copper floor beneath the tuning coil could be uncovered without fear of damage. This floor was incorporated into the design to echo the copper ceiling plate at Rugby that was positioned above the apparatus after the fire in 1943. A further design measure introduced was the kerbed edge on the copper floor, which made a clear perimeter around the object to discourage the public from approaching too close to the object on open display. Showing the finished object on display in the Information Age gallery. Conclusion The reassembly of the tuning coil was achieved by close collaboration with a team of heavylifting handlers from Constantine Ltd, and required some compromises in terms of conservation. These mainly concerned safety requirements and ensuring the stability of a large structure on open display to the public. It was attempted to make these compromises invisible to the public by making the object appear as it did when in its working state. Although the object as it now stands is only a portion of the apparatus at Rugby, it represents the almost-complete fine tuning coil assembly. It is hoped that this communicates to the public a sense of the larger site works and instils an interest in the history of Rugby Radio Station as a whole. The object stands floor-to-ceiling at the centre of the Information Age gallery, which was opened to the public in October 2014. 15 �Acknowledgements The authors would like to thank the Information Age project team at the Science Museum, particularly: Dr Esther Beeby, Conservator; Mr John Liffen, Curator; the Wroughton staff; and, the team from Constantine Ltd. The authors also gratefully acknowledge the support of the Clothworkers’ Foundation, National Museums Scotland and the Science Museum for aiding the delivery of this paper. Biographies Diana McCormack entered conservation from a background in archaeology and research, studying at Durham University as an Objects Conservator and training with the Wiltshire County Council Conservation & Museums Advisory Service. She has subsequently worked as a Project Conservator, for English Heritage, the Science Museum, and National Museums Scotland. Marta Leskard is Conservation & Collections Care Manager for the Science Museum Group at the Wroughton storage facility. She is also a doctoral student at the University of Bath, studying the use of innovative materials in effective environmental control for museum storage buildings. References Godwin, R. 2014. A History of Tufnol, accessed 2014, http://ahistoryoftufnol.org/index.html Hancock, M. 2011.The Official History of Rugby Radio Station, © British Telecommunications plc., accessed 2015, http://www.subbrit.org.uk/sbsites/sites/r/rugby_radio/indexr69.shtml Williams, S. 1997. Care of Objects Made from Rubber and Plastic: CCI Notes 15/1, Canadian Conservation Institute. 16 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Big Stuff 2015 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Alison Wain Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 03.09.2015 - 04.09.2015 Paper A paper presented at a conference or a workshop Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Conservation of the aerial tuning inductor from Rugby Radio Station, Warwickshire, UK Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Diana McCormack & Marta Leskard cable conservation open display polymer radio reassembly safety Tufnol https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/21127/archive/files/479b78986db0fbf6c18dfdff00581049.pdf?Expires=1781740800&Signature=AjwYBtVOJ-Rg19enxDiXYl1muEo5brLPl1PUDny-lLA2Y58F%7EA4fLkIDMFVvDsHMKGER5D6O9NXh5maAk96GW72vET6TlSK8c0d%7E5D0Gl1auSrRr925SqWeR-6Z-tbIMhaLt9T1OJZoeGrlNHkqXKK-F%7EN6fcXDNdxuaCo2WB52hNRVJ3H9H4n%7E1F75tv1kMGbV84%7EiS-r%7EvF6cmuhkrMyQsE3xldRB-wJXd%7E-QcxUanwCLyY%7EUOGPMvUz68Ba1lvC0k7LPT3w0xCvy-gojvtCWlEHGyGiwF60G1fMpa3zSQd%7E36Rn0z35Yf%7EFf-RVFkQaUndbEKkAReIByA6BMpNA__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM ef9e54548f61b7827075935dc2e99c9c PDF Text Text Feel the Love – the visual presentation of large technology heritage Alison Wain Centre for Creative and Cultural Research, University of Canberra, Australia Introduction The ways in which producers of large technology heritage choose to present their objects from a visual and aesthetic point of view are highly varied, and they are influenced by factors including personal preference, philosophy, available skills and straight cost. Broadly though, they can be grouped into four distinct styles, which will be referred to in this article as “As Found”, “Working Clothes”, “Former Glory” and “Creative Customising”. This article will explore what values these styles reflect, what aspects of significance they enhance or let go, how visitors respond to them, and their impacts on the costs of saving Big Stuff in tight economic times. The article will draw on a recent study of producer and visitor responses to large technology heritage in Australia, which investigated how producers felt about different presentation styles, and how their visitors responded to and interpreted those same styles. 368 visitors participated in short, semi-structured interviews, and 83 people involved with the production or management of large technology heritage participated in longer, open interviews.1 The interviews were conducted at eight sites in Australia that display large technology heritage and, for comparison, a leisure site that does not have heritage displays.2 Different approaches, different responses Humans are very visually focused, devoting as much as 50% of their brains to visual processing (Anderson 2010, p. 33). They respond to the appearance of things very strongly, and very immediately, and the way something is presented carries huge amounts of subliminal information – as advertisers know only too well. For this reason the way in which producers of large technology heritage choose to present their objects visually can be expected to have a major impact on the way their audiences respond to them. Very often, and not unnaturally, producers aim to give their visitors the experience that they would like to have themselves, and the type of information they would like 1 For details of the study, including the methodology and quantitative and qualitative analyses, see the author’s forthcoming thesis: A. Wain, 2012, Size Matters: Seeing the Values in Large Technology Heritage, PhD thesis, Australian National University. 2 The sites are listed below, along with the abbreviations subsequently used in the paper: • Western Australian Museum --- Maritime (WA Maritime Museum) • Australian War Memorial (Memorial) • Melbourne Museum (Melbourne Museum) • Scienceworks (Scienceworks) • Puffing Billy (Puffing Billy) • Campbelltown Steam and Machinery Museum (Campbelltown Museum) • Automobile Restorers Association Gold Coast (Gold Coast car show) • Darling Harbour – interviews were conducted in an area of Darling Harbour where no large technology heritage is displayed (Darling Harbour) • A pilot study was also conducted at the National Museum of Australia (NMA). �to find when they go as visitors to large technology heritage displays. These are the experiences and the information that they find compelling, and that they regard as an essential part of a high quality experience. Large technology heritage producers can, however, have a very different view from their visitors of the objects on which they work, and they can sometimes forget that what makes them feel comfortable, happy and engaged may not do the same for their visitors. Even with the best of intentions it is hard to see with other people’s eyes, and producers can be blissfully unaware that the displays that seem to them so accessible, clear and welcoming, may seem to other people inaccessible, obscure and alienating. Visitors themselves come from many different backgrounds, and range from people with extensive knowledge relevant to the objects on display (many visitors are themselves producers of large technology heritage displays in other contexts) to people such as children, who may lack even a frame of reference with which to connect the objects they are seeing. This means that a single way of presenting objects is unlikely to engage all visitors equally – different visitors, just like different producers, will have different preferences. What visitors do often share, though, is a love of variety. Humans seem to require a certain level of novelty to feel interested and satisfied, and will actively seek out situations that provide it. Drawing on psychological research, John Falk and Lynn Dierking have commented that: Curiosity. . . is driven by the need for stimulation. . . the desire to promote, then satisfy, curiosity aptly characterizes the motivation behind most free choice learning. . . and is a major factor in determining whether environments are appealing. Environments that have “mystery”, provide a moderate sense of the unknown, are complex, and invite exploration are far more desirable than those without those qualities (Falk and Dierking, 2000, p. 115). Variety in the presentation of large technology heritage objects is therefore an important factor for engaging a range of visitors in the first place, for keeping them interested as they tour a museum or site, and for encouraging them to return in the future. This need for variety means that all the presentation approaches mentioned above have value, and all can be useful in different situations to present aspects of the past in innovative and engaging ways. With this in mind, we will explore the opportunities and challenges offered by the “As Found”, “Working Clothes”, “Former Glory” and “Creative Customising” styles of large technology heritage presentation.3 To assist the reader, Figure 1 is a visual summary of the paths typically taken to achieve these different presentation styles, while Table 1 (below) lists the pros and 3 It should be noted that this article focuses on visual presentation, not operational presentation. Choosing to make a machine operational is a separate decision to the choice of visual presentation, and with the exception of the “As Found” presentation it is possible to use all of the four presentation styles discussed in this article for both static and operational technology displays. �cons of the four approaches from display and logistical points of view. Figure 1: A flowchart illustrating typical object treatment paths taken to achieve the four presentation styles. Table 1: The pros and cons of the four presentation styles Presentation style As Found Working Clothes Former Glory Creative Customising Good for … Bad for … Preserves historic evidence Economical Engages most visitors (looks cared for and interesting) Carries affective sense of authenticity Preserves some historic evidence Level and cost of treatment can be varied to suit the resources available Can express individuality Engages many visitors (looks pretty) Rarely engages visitors (looks uncared for) Can be interpreted as poorly finished and unprofessional Engages visitors (can spark new ideas) Expresses individuality Uses the past as inspiration Does not preserve much historic evidence Can lack sense of authenticity Expensive Destroys integrity of historic evidence Expensive but level and cost of treatment can be varied to suit the resources available �Style 1: As Found Figure 2: The cranes on the slipway adjacent to the HMAS Ovens submarine at the WA Maritime Museum. The cranes are presented “As Found”. Image: A Wain, 2008. The big plus with the “As Found” approach is that it protects the historical evidence contained in the fabric of an object. The object may be stabilised, but is otherwise preserved largely unchanged to retain as much evidence as possible of every period in the object’s life. This means that the object retains the microscopic and analytical clues that can allow future researchers to discover in more detail where the object has been, what it has done, and how it has changed throughout its life. Such detective work can uncover stories that are a rich source of interpretive material, and when it is engagingly presented, visitors are often just as fascinated by the detective work as by the object itself. The “As Found” approach can verify an object’s authenticity, and support visitors’ emotional response to it as a “bridge to the past”. Michael Brevenholt, Education �Officer at the WA Maritime Museum, spoke of the impact of knowing that the fabric of an historic boat was original: [These planks] have been places, they have seen things… you think about all the hundreds if not thousands of people who have touched that object during the course of its life, the lives of the owners. It may not be an important person, sometimes just the ordinary people that have touched it or used it. What were their lives like? And it becomes something that can transport you to the past. The downside of the “As Found” presentation is that the period of the object’s history that will be most visually evident is the period of neglect and deterioration that occurs at the end of the service lives of almost all large technology objects, as their technology becomes obsolete and they are sold off or dumped. During this period they are rarely considered either interesting or valuable and they are allowed to become dilapidated, which means they no longer look anything like they would have done while in service. Not only is it hard for visitors to imagine an object in this condition fulfilling its original service functions, but the object looks as though noone values it. A trained eye – and good analytical equipment – can see and interpret the historic evidence, but the average visitor can see only an object that appears to be unloved and uncared for. This is important because the subliminal message conveyed by an appearance of neglect is that the object is not worthy of better care, which suggests that it is neither significant nor valued. The question this raises for visitors is, if the object is not loved or valued by anyone else, why should they treat it any differently? John White, senior curator of large technology at the Australian War Memorial described an incident that demonstrates how strongly the condition of an object can influence people’s behavior and attitudes towards it: We have had items which have been important and have come through customs from New Guinea, and customs inspectors have chopped holes in them so that the [fumigation] gas that kills possible bugs can invade the structure more thoroughly. And you look at it and just say "but there were so many easier ways of doing it". But of course all they could see was that it is a damaged object and another few holes isn't going to make a difference. A further problem with objects that appear uncared for is that, as Elaine Gurian notes, “…visitors can deduce from their experience what we, the producers of exhibitions, think and feel about them”(Heumann Gurian 1991, p. 176). Graham Black similarly notes that the professionalism and level of maintenance of a presentation demonstrates the regard an organisation has for its visitors (Black 2005, p. 35). If a large technology object looks as though it is not valued, the implication is that the organization displaying it does not value its visitors enough to invest in creating a worthwhile experience for them. The presentation of a particular genre of objects in a way that is noticeably less professional and less well-maintained than the rest of the displays may also suggest that that type of heritage (and those �who value it) are not as worthy of professional attention and representation as those who value better maintained heritage. From a display point of view, therefore, the “As Found” presentation preserves historic evidence and originality, but is hard for visitors to relate to and understand. From a logistical point of view, if weatherproof storage is available the “As Found” presentation is very economical as treatment is generally restricted to cleaning and stabilization. This is consequently a good approach when saving Big Stuff in tight economic times, and can be used either as an end in itself or as an intermediate step until further funding is identified. Style 2: Working Clothes Figure 3: Owner Andrew McVey (left) with his “Warragul “steam traction engine at the Campbelltown Museum Oil Steam and Kerosene Field Day in May 2008. The engine is operational and is presented in its “Working Clothes”. Image: A Wain, 2008. The “Working Clothes” approach was articulated most clearly by producers at the Campbelltown Museum, a club of private owners who exhibit predominantly working machinery at a rural site. Ray Graf, a private owner of small electrical locomotives at the Campbelltown Museum explained it like this: � I don’t know where it came from, but [“working clothes”] is an expression used. In other words cleaned, maybe not polished, but cleaned and looking all right, as against leaving it covered in gunge. Versus the other extent of cleaning and painting it better than new. The “Working Clothes” approach had great appeal for the many visitors in the Australian study who expressed the desire to see objects displayed looking as they would have done when they were in regular service. Statistical analysis showed that the majority of visitors of both genders, in all age groups, all occupation groups and at all interview sites (with the exception of the Gold Coast car show) preferred to see objects showing marks of age and use that reflected their service lives. Those visitors who did want to see objects restored to look new were more commonly male than female, but even these were in the minority, as 67% of males interviewed preferred not to see objects restored to look new (Wain 2012, p. 115). These people4 tended to see marks of age and wear as honourable scars, evidence of the objects’ achievements and hard working lives: I think they have more of a sense of age and having had a working life when you can actually see a bit of wear and tear on them. Not dilapidated, but they don’t have to be spanking new.5 Restored as new they don’t look as if they’ve done it. Being nice and shiny – well, it hasn’t done anything yet.6 Another visitor clarified that it was not in itself important whether the object looked new or well-used, as long as the condition of the object reflected and helped visitors relate to the service life of the object. I think it depends what their purpose in being displayed is. So in the case of [the Parry Endeavour yacht], you would remove its history if you restore it. Whereas Australia II, you can take it looking shiny, and that’s how it looked when it was racing so I think it’s right to display it polished up again.7 Areas of damage and modification can also have a profound affective impact, as people often use this physical evidence to help them visualise historical events for themselves. Such visualisations can generate an emotional response that makes the 4 Quotations in this paper that are reproduced from visitors interviewed during the study sites are footnoted with the site name, case number, gender, age range and occupation of the visitor quoted (see for example note 5 below). 5 WA Maritime Museum 181: Female, 26–35, travel agent. 6 Memorial 316: Male, 56–65, store-person. 7 Darling Harbour 411: Male, 46–55, interviewee did not provide job details when asked, instead merely describing himself as “not mechanical”. He was speaking of the Parry Endeavour, a yacht used by John Sanders to make a record breaking triple circumnavigation of the world in 1986–1988, and Australia II, the yacht that carried an Australian team to victory in the America’s Cup in 1983. �experience feel vivid, memorable and personally relevant, as noted by a visitor to the Memorial: You get an idea of how close the pilot came to death when you see all the machine-gun marks and the bullets.8 The “Working Clothes” presentation is unusual in that it can be the end result of several quite different processes (see Figure 1). The other presentation styles discussed in this article typically follow a single, linear path from found object to display presentation, but the “Working Clothes” presentation can be the outcome of three different treatment paths: • minor restoration to a cared-for appearance; • refurbishment to a “new” appearance followed by artificial distressing to recreate the “Working Clothes” look;9 • refurbishment to a “new” appearance followed by operational use that recreates the “Working Clothes” look through patterns of use similar to those from the object’s service life. The downside of the “Working Clothes” approach is that the refurbishment required to take an object from a dilapidated to a used-but-cared-for appearance will inevitably destroy some of the physical evidence of the object’s history. This can be mitigated to some extent by detailed written and photographic documentation, as well as by the retention of samples of materials removed from the object. The other downside of the approach is that it does not provide the glamorous finish that some producers and visitors do want. Deciding whether these issues are relevant means assessing the significance of the object in question, as well as its intended use as heritage. From a display point of view, therefore, the “Working Clothes” presentation is excellent for projecting of a sense of authenticity and promoting visitor engagement, and depending on the level of restoration undertaken it can preserve substantial amounts of historic evidence. For many producers, however, the “Working Clothes” presentation connotes an unfinished job or lack of maintenance, and regardless of visitor response to it, they may personally see it as disappointing and unprofessional. From a logistical point of view the different paths that can lead to a “Working Clothes” presentation make it a particularly flexible approach, offering the option of minimal restoration in tight economic times, or more extensive restoration if more funds are available. The option of restoring to a robust, weatherproof finish and then letting a “used” appearance develop through normal processes of weathering and 8 Memorial 266: Female, 46–55, ferry master. 9 While distressing is often equated with faking age, Ian MacLeod – Executive Director of Collection Management and Conservation at the WA Maritime Museum – pointed out that it is no more dishonest to repaint an object with a coating that looks aged than a coating that looks new. “If you had a large object and you had to repaint it I see nothing wrong…in putting on a surface finish that looks old. It is quite legitimate. And in fact it can actually go a long way to enhancing the visitor experience in understanding the nature of the object… That was the problem I had with a lot of the exhibitions at Victoria Key. [The boat] Lady Forrest looks as though she is brandnew. She is not! She is old! Let her look old!” �use is a practical way of reducing ongoing maintenance costs, particularly for objects that are stored and operated predominantly outdoors. Style 3: Former Glory Figure 4: A car restored to its “Former Glory” at the Gold Coast car show in 2009. Image: A. Wain, 2009. The “Former Glory” approach focuses on the visual beauty and impressiveness of the object. The object is generally returned to the condition the owner feels it would have been in when it was new, with gleaming paintwork, brightly polished metal surfaces, and any modifications returned to original specifications. This approach was particularly popular at the Gold Coast car show, and it was noticeable that the preferences of producers and visitors were more closely aligned here than at any of the other sites, with both groups preferring the objects to have a highly restored, visually beautiful finish. This approach is also being used for the restoration of a Daimler at the NMA, to represent the earliest period of its use when it was one of a fleet of cars used to carry Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Phillip during their 1954 Australian tour.10 Although this means destroying evidence of its later service roles, its role in the Royal Tour is the story the NMA wishes to tell, and the 10 http://nma.gov.au/blogs/daimler/ �museum feels that this story can best be told by restoring the vehicle to its “Former Glory”. The downside of the “Former Glory” approach is that, for many visitors a highly restored appearance renders the authenticity of an object suspect. Visitors interviewed in the Australian study felt that highly restored objects were less trustworthy and evocative than those that looked their age: I prefer it when they look old. Because [if it is restored] I don’t know whether it is real.11 Don’t paint over it for heavens sake… It’s a museum after all, it’s not an artistic place. It doesn’t have to be spotless and clean and beautifully presented… They should remain genuine rather than pretty.12 If it looks brand-new then I don’t have a connection with the way it was and the way it used to operate. If it looks like it has just come out of a factory, then it doesn’t have the age associated with its actual physical place in time.13 One reason that the Former Glory approach may have this effect on many visitors may be because objects are often restored to a higher finish than they would have had even when they were new. As Fred Vanags, an experienced steam machinery operator14 commented: You see a lot of machines that have been restored and painted up and they go right to the “n”th degree of filling little deformities in the casting with body putty and then they make it look sparkling new. Well, when they were manufactured they were never like that, they were just roughcast and normally a coat of paint was thrown over them and then they went off to work. Tractors particularly are the ones that are over-restored – they never looked like that when they came out of the factory, never ever. This issue of trustworthiness did not arise at the Gold Coast car show because the most significant thing about the objects to the majority of people there was not the objects’ past lives as ordinary cars, but their new lives as “special” cars. For this community the histories of the restoration processes and the people who did them were more significant than the histories of the cars themselves. One visitor at the Gold Coast car show, asked whether the most interesting time in the cars’ lives was when they were brand new, working, at a special event or any other time, replied: 11 Memorial 300: Female: 19–25, tourism student from Austria. Memorial 281: Male, >65, printer. 13 Scienceworks 112: Female, 26–35, mechanical engineer and teacher. 14 Fred Vanags maintains and operates both his own steam heritage steam machinery, and machinery belonging to the Campbelltown Museum and the Maitland City Council. He was interviewed as a heritage producer during fieldwork at the Campbelltown Museum. 12 �Oh, no no. Restored. Because of the effort that is put into them.15 A visiting couple, when asked if they like to see the cars restored to look new, responded that they liked to see a variety of imaginative presentation styles: Male visitor: [I like] some to be back to the original, but some to be customized or whatever. Female visitor: I suppose it is to see what people’s imagination brings them back to, because it’s a lot personal as to how they bring them back. Male visitor: Their own style, the owner’s style.16 From a display point of view the “Former Glory” presentation scores highly on physical attractiveness, with many producers and some visitors (particularly in the car genre) relishing the input of effort and imagination by the objects’ current owners, and seeing the beautiful finish as evidence of a job well done. The majority of visitors outside the car genre, however, feel that the history of the object has been lost or obscured by the high level of restoration, and that the object has lost much of its feeling of authenticity and emotional affectiveness. From a logistical point of view the “Former Glory” approach tends to be expensive, as it not only requires extensive initial cleaning, stabilization and refurbishment (including the repair or replacement of most or all damaged parts), but high ongoing maintenance costs to keep it looking in top condition. This makes it a challenging style to adopt in tight economic times. Style 4: Creative Customising 15 16 Gold Coast car show 243: Male, 56–65, plumber. Gold Coast car show 221: Female, 46–55, administration officer. Male, 46–55, upholsterer. � Figure 5: The fun of “Creative Customising”. These hot rods, photographed at a show at Uraidla in South Australia, combine body styles of the 1930s-50s with modern paints and accessories. Image: U.K. Frederick. The “Creative Customising” approach is very different from the “As Found” and “Working Clothes” styles, being focused more on the present than the past. In this it overlaps with the interest in the present shown at the Gold Coast car show, but whereas producers at the Gold Coast car show generally expressed their personal taste and imagination within the boundaries set by the original makes and models of their cars, car customisers see no such limits.17 The big plus of “Creative Customising” is that it uses the past as a source of ideas and inspiration for the present. Raphael Samuel notes that the blending of old and modern is often belittled as being obsessed by style over substance, or worse is accused of being a “fraudulent” use of the past, but he points out that its juxtaposition of the old and the new generates excitement and creates the imaginative space for new ideas (Samuel 1994, pp. 112–114.). Andrew Warren and Chris Gibson, in their study of custom-car culture in the Australian city of Wollongong, similarly commented that car customising was usually ignored in mainstream assessments of artistic activities and industries, despite the fact that it …was a careful and richly creative process: ideas and designs were firstly hatched amongst social groups, informed by personal tastes and feelings; then in performing custom car work technical knowledge about mechanics, electrical wiring, painting, metal fabrication, and upholstery became requisite 17 It should be noted that while creative customising is an approach that could potentially be used with any historic object, in Australia it is most commonly used on cars. �— but only towards ends that emphasised idiosyncratic personal expressions and aesthetic preferences (Warren and Gibson, 2011, pp. 2706–7, 2715). The downside of “Creative Customising” is that it can lead to misunderstandings about what is from the past and what is from the present. Col Ogilvie, engineering conservation consultant at the NMA, illustrated these concerns with a story from his days as a private car restorer: I did a Holden for a bloke years ago, an FC Holden, and the only thing about it that was FC was the body shape. Everything else [pause] — it had a V-6, V-8, an engine in it. It had all the front end out of a HR, and the diff out of something else, you know. It was all a compromise. It wasn’t an object of beauty for me as in an FC Holden. But it was an object of beauty to him because it represented what he wanted. He wanted a very fast–looking, going FC Holden. His interpretation of an object restoration is not the same as mine. [To me] his was an object conversion. But to him, it was a restoration. Difficult. It must be remembered – and acknowledged – that “Creative Customising” does not result in an historic or original object. It can be culturally authentic, in that it continues a tradition of mechanical skills, love of machinery, ingenuity and imagination from the past into the future18 but the result of combining an FC Holden body with components from other models or makes of cars is not a restored FC Holden but something new. It can be something thrilling, and something that will inspire both its owner and visitors, but it does not reflect the history of the various cars its components came from, or say anything about the lives of people at the time those cars were originally produced and used. Like the “Former Glory” presentation, the “Creative Customising” approach rates highly on physical attractiveness and is much appreciated by producers and visitors for the effort, imagination and fun embodied in its new creations. “Creative Customising” deserves recognition for the way in which it takes elements of the past and gives them a new meaning in the present, but it is important that its products are recognized as new contributions to a continuing cultural evolution, and not mistaken for representations of past products and ways of life. From a logistical point of view the “Creative Customising” approach is somewhat similar to the “Former Glory” presentation, as the high finish and extensive modifications that are characteristic of the approach are expensive both to produce and to maintain. The freedom to create new forms and juxtapositions, however, offers producers a lot of flexibility, giving customisers more opportunity to tailor their creative choices to their means. 18 Creativity is a vital part of living cultural traditions, and while the tangible products of such creativity may change over time, they remain authentic expressions of the cultural tradition that gave rise to them. Zancheti et al (2009) note that cities are cases where the fabric of the past is constantly reconstructed and re-interpreted by new generations, and that this process is an essential element in maintaining the authentic life of the city. � Conclusion Many producers of large technology heritage have a preferred display style, one that appeals to their personal preferences and satisfies criteria of quality and appropriateness that they draw from their backgrounds and training. Producers tend to use their preferred presentation style for all the objects they care for, without finding out whether this is a style of presentation that will appeal to their visitors, will be acceptable to other stakeholders, or will complement and add variety to the presentation styles used for other objects in the same display. By abstracting heritage presentation approaches from this personal context, it is possible to analyse them more dispassionately as styles that connote different ideas, portray different messages, and achieve different outcomes. The four styles discussed above are ordered in this article into a sequence that moves broadly from reverence for the past, through recreation of the past, to using the past as a jumping-off point for the future. None of these methods of presentation are the “right” way to do things, and none of them are the “wrong” way – they all have a valid place in the display “armoury”. Looking at them in this way can allow producers to choose a style for the job at hand, rather than just a style that suits their personal or professional preference or comfort zone. The thing that is important in all of them, though, and that stood out in the Australian interviews, is the importance of conveying the idea that an object is valued, cared for and loved. An object that says “I am loved” immediately attracts attention, as people gather curiously around it to find out what is so interesting, and why it is loved. An object that looks unloved sends a message that it holds nothing of interest and is not worth looking at. Some objects that are cared for but not restored at all send the message “I am loved” very successfully – as is demonstrated by a number of the relics in the Australian War Memorial that are displayed using the “As Found” presentation style but interpreted and maintained with obvious care and thoughtfulness. By contrast some quite highly restored objects at the Scienceworks campus of Museum Victoria send the message “I am not loved” because they are displayed in a dusty outlying garage, with small, dull signboards. Many privately owned large technology heritage items convey the message “I am loved” because their owners are there with them in displays, actively demonstrating their interest and passion. If we want to make our objects as interesting to our visitors as they are to us, we have to show them our passion in ways that they can understand even if they do not share our backgrounds or expertise, and one way we can do this is by showing them how much we care for our objects. It is vital that we help them to “feel the love”. References: J. Anderson, 2010, Cognitive Psychology and its Implications, Worth Publishers, New York. G. Black, 2005, The Engaging Museum: Developing Museums for Visitor Involvement, �Routledge, London. J. H. Falk and L. D. Dierking, 2000, Learning from Museums: Visitor Experiences and the Making of Meaning, AltaMira Press, Walnut Creek. E. Heumann Gurian, 1991, “Noodling around with exhibition opportunities”. In Exhibiting cultures: the Poetics and Politics of Museum Display, ed. Ivan Karp and Steven D. Lavine, Smithsonian Institution Press, Washington. R. Samuel, 1994, Theatres of Memory, Verso, London. A. Wain, 2012, Size Matters: Seeing the Values in Large Technology Heritage, PhD thesis, Australian National University. A. Warren and C. Gibson, 2011, “Blue-collar creativity: reframing custom-car culture in the imperilled industrial city”. Environment and Planning A 43, 2705–2722. S. Zancheti, F. Lira and R. Piccolo, 2009, ‘‘Judging the Authenticity of the City,’’ in Conserving the Authentic: Essays in Honour of Jukka Jokilehto, ed. Nicholas Stanley-Price and Joseph King, ICCROM, Rome, 163-68. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Big Stuff 2013 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Alison Wain Paper A paper presented at a conference or a workshop Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Feel the Love – the visual presentation of large technology heritage Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Alison Wain car community of practice conservation industrial heritage large technology heritage restoration values https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/21127/archive/files/1f669a4cb747f6d00e3ce16459e9cab5.pdf?Expires=1781740800&Signature=ea2NK1KXlLqCIKLs99C-kXIPcek0zc7lQapcLOJ5Xrgsxh8lY2PgHOxTQoLctgUHWk9lDt2G6cZpr1zqRqgBVKoMRd2uQlssOWB4iJU0Is3sCckBwrWekaE8XeBdWyBq5BHJDppoEUjZT6XYqaY2D6bfIg8UvtMHfhD%7Ea9YvVtgKAgNRHX3GUPTjMavFN1fUfTYNFxdpcFyeBvl37U%7EEDDesfYLYAZzelCjDBZEVolbQ7HuBYO%7E6b9e0oi3CzvqGXNvl-lvRXh6mJkcAh0vgHyiI2LBYWo5kolncJfduVbFXrB0VmyWW68juJbi0cYwA4bVTMn-YRcNwmSQym-02JQ__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM e9977a2109d34311d7105b9cb89ff91f PDF Text Text Conservation and large technological artefacts: a curatorial perspective John White Australian War Memorial My name is John White. I’m one of two senior curators of technology at the Australian War Memorial - I look after things that fly and float; the other curator, Mike Cecil, looks after all the land based technology. I started here in 1987, and I’m going to talk about some of the major changes in the last twenty-five years in the ways we have approached large technology objects. The Memorial’s Act calls for the organisation (the Australian War Memorial) to develop, maintain and exhibit a collection of material of national significance. Now, the significance of the collection is not some generalized notion. It’s not that the Memorial is important and therefore the Memorial’s holdings must be important, it’s that the collection actually contains the most extraordinary material. It contains many items which are really significant parts of the Australian National Collection; think of G for George, think about the midget submarine. There are many other items – not just talking about large technology but across the board – which are of national significance (and indeed of international significance because they are items produced overseas), which because of the vagaries of history might either be unique or possibly the best and most original examples remaining in the world. It’s quite a responsibility to manage a collection like that. Now in many cases these objects were chosen because of their history. For instance in 1944, whilst the D-Day invasion was raging and Britain was fighting to take back the continent - working with the Americans and the Allied Corps - somewhere in the infrastructure there was a person who was a representative of the Memorial choosing a Spitfire for preservation. G for George was selected for preservation by mid-1944. So in the midst of all that turbulence there was some astonishing forward thinking going on about what would actually constitute an item of significance which needed to be preserved. Our Messerschmitt Bf-109 was selected by the British forces as one of a small group of German aircraft, not for evaluation for flying, not to understand the technology, but as museum display objects. And to that end the British decided not to paint markings and serial numbers on the items, so that that Bf-109 arrived in Australia virtually untouched and again, through the vagaries of history, has come down to the Memorial in the present day in the most extraordinarily original condition. It is the only one of its type to be in that condition in the world (except perhaps one from a lake), but in more general terms the only surviving front line Second World War German military aircraft apparently in a completely untouched condition. An extraordinary thing to find here in Australia. Now curators charged with this kind of problem have to do some careful thinking. When I arrived here in 1987 I was faced with a pretty daunting situation. We had poor storage for our large technology collection, both in terms of cleanliness and condition. We had a store called Duntroon. Duntroon was a place where cats went to die - there were literally dead animals inside objects! There was material falling from the ceiling, dust, there were enthusiastic persons living nearby who considered it was a challenge �to break in and steal things and had been doing so for decades. We had objects the size of G for George and yet our total aircraft handling gear consisted of a couple of broken jacks, a couple of stands and some automotive gear. We relied heavily on outside help from the Services and in some cases private individuals to assist us to move objects. In terms of collection care we were at such an embryonic stage of taking care of our material that there were a lot of problems. We had people driving cranes and lifting objects who had never handled an aircraft before, and they certainly didn’t know about our aircraft. They didn’t understand the importance of looking after a museum aircraft. We had a lot of little accidents, a lot of handling problems. We had poor building access – the Memorial’s buildings, opened in 1941 and later extended, had been gradually built in. In the hall where the Lancaster was displayed we had to bring in a crane with a 10T capacity to put in a La Rhone rotary engine – we didn’t have a door large enough to bring an item that size into the building without a crane. We also had tremendous limitations on workshop space; we had limited funds and limited access to them. When I arrived we had six aircraft projects which had ground to a halt. They’d ground to a halt for reasons including – • we didn’t have treatments developed to apply to those objects; • the contractors had their own problems and were unable to carry on with the projects; • we were dealing with contractors who proved to be very “interesting” people and one of the first things I had to do was to break the contract arrangements and flee in the other direction! So as a curator looking at all the aspects of what we needed to do to manage the collection, I had to look at my resources to see what were the most important tools that I had to hand and even at that time the Memorial had pretty much unparalleled resources in conservation , both intellectual and in terms of the development of the new conservation buildings here. Now, people joke about curators and conservators – how they get on and whether they talk – there’s a perception that curators and conservators often come at objects from different perspectives and have different ideas of what is important and different ideas of what the management of those objects involves. But I looked at that conservation resource and thought – how can I apply that and make that work for the long-term management of the collection? Now, think about what this management problem involves. It is long-term preservation. There is no statute of limitations in the Memorial’s Act. It says we will keep and maintain this collection; it doesn’t say for ten years or fifteen years, or a hundred years, but forever… and forever is a very very long time. As an example, in 1987 we had a P51 Mustang. A very original aircraft – it had survived as a technical training aid and retained a tremendous amount of original fabric - surface finishes (including the original manufacturer’s transfers), the seat cushion with “US Army Air force” in the cockpit - and the object had grown old gracefully because it had not been outside and it had been relatively well cared for. We had an Avro 504 on loan to a large airline company. They’d had a bit of a problem and had recovered the fuselage, but the wings and the tail plane retained fabric which as far as we can determine goes right back to 1918 and is still doing a remarkably good job. �We had the Lancaster and we had some volunteers working it, and we really weren’t going very far with that project because we were pouring an enormous amount of effort into some very small aspects of the project and not stepping back from it to take a good look at the machine. We had, as was mentioned, the Sea Furys out on loan to the navy, and the navy were running into problems with them. So it wasn’t actually a very encouraging scene. I spent a lot of time going through those projects and identifying ways in which we could proceed. We cancelled the Tiger Moth – we went and got another one later on. We cancelled most of the existing work programs on the Lancaster and dropped back to do a great deal of research on the machine which carried on for some years; and it’s interesting to note that we started researching it in 1987 and completed it in 2003 which gives you an idea of the complexity of the project that we undertook on the Lancaster. The Mustang – we were able to take what we had as a starting point for the aircraft and add more original parts back into it; not parts from that machine, but parts that we knew were new production spares for Mustangs. We managed to find a pair of wings for it (the original wings had been cut) which were from the same production batch as the original wings, and fit those to the machine. So at that stage we were picking up on elements of conservation logic to say “We’ve got an original object – how do we preserve those features and how can we augment those features and still retain the character of the item?” Now, one of the most important things that I loved about conservation was that conservators were very relaxed about distressed objects. Objects are often overrestored and the Memorial’s collection had these objects which, because of various historical reasons, had not been touched in decades. We had a tremendous opportunity to save a lot of material which had been delivered to us by what was – on the face of it – neglect, but which in fact turned out to be very fortuitous. So looking at those machines, we did some experiments. The Avro 504 – how would we preserve that eighty-year-old fabric? We looked at ways of retaining areas of original fabric - relaxing damaged areas, re-doping damaged areas; and a lot of ideas which we were thinking about in that first stage reached their first practical application in that machine and some of the other projects. With the Sea Fury our basic problem was that we had aimed our restoration concept in the wrong direction. The initial idea was that navy would take the three aircraft (including their one) and use the best parts from all three to form one flyable machine and put together a machine for the Memorial from what was left. After a while we realized that navy’s flying aircraft was not the most important thing for the Memorial to come out of that group of aircraft. We had to get back for the Memorial a good, displayable machine that addressed some of our collection requirements, and was not what was left over after another major restoration project. It took years to articulate that and to get that message through the various channels of communication between the Services and the Memorial, but with a lot of goodwill and a lot of rethinking on everyone’s part we got the machines returned to Canberra pretty much as they had left - although they had been extensively dismantled and damaged in some minor ways �through that dismantling. But we got them back here and started from scratch with a new project. Conservation influenced in this development process very strongly. From 1987 to perhaps 2000 our ideas about how to handle these objects progressed in steps. We would try something, experiment with new techniques and treatments. We experimented with the idea of putting on display an object which was half conserved and half restored. For instance when you look at the Beaufort you will notice that there are features on that aircraft which are clearly fifty years old and features which are clearly last week. But when you step back from the object they don’t really fight against each other. And the idea is that when you look at that machine you know – deep in your heart – that you are looking at an object which is real. And I like that notion of preserving things which are real. When I first came here I climbed out of the Lancaster – which at that stage had a very nice coat of paint on it but which was not very accurate because it was based on the instructions from the Airfix kit – and I was asked by a member of the public “Is this thing real?” And it had never occurred to me to ask this question of whether the Lancaster was actually real. And I stepped out of the aircraft and turned around and looked at it and it dawned on me that it could have actually been a very large Series 8 Airfix kit from the appearance of it. It was too neat. It had no flaws on it that you could see. There was nothing which spoke from it about the fact that people flew it eighty-nine times over German occupied territory, that it was shot at, that it was rebuilt, that it is the outcome of a very complex development and mass production process. You’ll be hearing more about these notions that we found from looking at the machine and that our conservation staff did such tremendous work to help identify and document. It was from those kind of findings that we developed a new way of looking at that Lancaster and a new way – for me as a curator- of understanding what that aircraft actually was, and how it appeared at certain key parts of its history. Other conservation ethical points which embedded themselves in our work were the basic standards for accommodation. Believe me – having worked now for some years in an area where all our storage is either air-conditioned or controlled to some extent, and we have objects which aren’t covered in dust and don’t have dead cats in them – believe me that’s the most amazing step forward because we are not retracing our steps all the time. Once we work on an object and do significant conservation and restoration treatment on it, its rate of deterioration is then very minor. We can go onto other things without having to find, two years later, that we’ve got to do large amounts of work over again. This is very important from a planning point of view over the last seventeen years I’ve been here I’ve seen seventeen aircraft projects completed. That’s a phenomenal rate for a place with a relatively small budget (until recent years) for major conservation or restoration works. And I do like that notion of “If it ain’t broke don’t fix it”, and I’ve always added to that “If you do fix it you can’t go back” and “The object is not going anywhere fast, so take the time to have a decent look at it.” Aged objects are, I’ve come to realize, legitimately interesting and valuable within themselves. Mention has been made that our sampling of our visitors to the Memorial shows that our visitors do understand when they are looking at a real thing. Now, it’s possible someone might say “Perhaps if it was completely restored and polished and �looked fantastic, that would be better. People would be even more impressed.” But the strange thing is that even among general visitors that is not the case. People understand and appreciate a sense of history. The gentleman who asked me about the Lancaster did not ask me about the Spitfire which was sitting next to it, which had not been repainted in fifty years and which is still one of our most extraordinary objects. An object needs to be known by a curator, and conservators, with their detailed cleaning, stabilization and examination of objects, open up tremendous windows for a curator to understand just what their item is. When we looked at G for George we found tons of material evidence inside the machine of its construction, its operational use and things that had happened to it post-war. All these things were things we needed to know so that I, as a curator, could look at that object, know what it was and then say “It is ‘this’, ‘these’ are the things we can do with it, ‘these’ are the features we need to be stressing in our interpretation of it and ‘these’ are the material evidences of strikes, battle damage, use-wear and other things that would be interesting to a member of the public as part of interpretation”. And the other thing that I really like about conservation is that it presents me, as a curator, with lots of options for how we can deal with an object. For instance we were working on a Mosquito. When I arrived here it was proposed - because we were half way through a wing rebuild – that we would continue with the wing rebuild but that we might preserve original material in the fuselage, which was in very poor shape. Then it swapped over and we were going to leave the wing alone. But we were able to develop a way of injecting the timber structure so that we actually kept large amounts of the very badly deteriorated wooden wing in a way that we had been told previously was not possible. We not only kept the original material, we cut the amount of time needed to bring that object to a stable and displayable state by two thirds. Now for dollar reasons that’s of enormous importance if you’re trying to work out – as a curator – how to get a project through from the beginning to the end. Conservation offered us options in terms of how we repainted objects - putting preservative layers on and painting over the top and inpainting damaged materials but leaving other areas intact. Because the objects were so large we could be a bit flexible – perhaps we would preserve in its original state one part of an object which had typical features across a lot of the structure, and in other areas we could do more aesthetic and more restoration based treatments to bring the object together as a whole so that it could be seen as a complete object. The idea is that we both had our cake and ate it too, and conservation ideas gave a lot of assistance on how we could develop a project along those lines. So in my experience here conservation has been one of the most powerful influences on how we’ve handled this collection and – apart from bucks of course – the most powerful tool. I talked to you about the situation we had when I arrived, but look at the situation now. As a curator looking after the aircraft collection and most of our naval items, almost everything is under cover, almost nothing is sitting outside deteriorating that isn’t robust enough to deal with those conditions. We have handling gear that allows us to pick up objects and move them without touching the object itself. We are one of the few places that, if given the job of dismantling a Lancaster, we could use our own gear, do it in-house and have the thing apart in probably five weeks if it was an emergency. When we are programming projects and we are coming up with concepts for how an object can look, I have the tremendous support from a �conservation ethical point of view, of the notion that it’s worthwhile preserving original features. And not only is that a good idea for the members of the public from what we know about their tastes, but there are serious economic advantages from adopting a conservation approach to a project. And these influences echo on – they’re now so commonplace in the way we handle these large technology objects that it’s been interesting sitting down and teasing out some of the elements of approaches we take for granted now which just weren’t part of the agenda in the early eighties. And I think it’s an indicator of how far we’ve come that we’ve made those kinds of steps. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Big Stuff 2004 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2004 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Alison Wain Article An article in a journal or periodical Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Conservation and large technological artefacts: a curatorial perspective Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource John White Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2004 authenticity collection management conservation curatorship Ethics and Approaches project management restoration https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/21127/archive/files/8b311f780b9d391ee7eb7ba59e996389.pdf?Expires=1781740800&Signature=jtQnoE00MqnI9OYvi0FJayWWq%7E4jr1rR%7EEsS9gkt8f27rfAEZMDhkgI8Qbk35vwOs8oFji-C8UMSXeX0miD6%7ErVnQeY9V6OIsJPq0hyMwEi%7E1-p3jdrVDNzPfK6ErZJ2XJIGCWp-BaLPgFB17K8LXXrT0hgXW6YL9hcZORbdxgN7I9pdi1aXpj%7EHN7dPMDT6QkWZMHSwnCU-qmrvuwgzOU91TUw%7EpQSlQ1hTQ3-8Wrp7-5yDjOl3AA6n67bNAModoi7EwtzcKHnlaQK44Oe4X1kd1TkVjIpsRc8PWKvBgUgdsCu3hxxGRwdsJ54bpLRKAxOrMZ05y0kplCkQSw6jeg__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM c9c7ccc1d16045cb6c331341dc0929f7 PDF Text Text Application of the Burra Charter to large technology objects: a freelance conservator’s experiences. Gillian Mitchell Conservation Works Abstract: In the heritage architecture field it is standard practice to apply the Burra Charter as a guiding document in planning all conservation work. In the absence of a similar document to guide the conservation of large technology items, this paper will show how the Burra Charter has been applied successfully to large technology. The benefits will be illustrated by drawing on examples of projects completed while in private practice. These examples will provide an insight into the various ways conservators can be involved in large technology projects, from limited consultancy to complete treatments. In 1964 an international charter for the preservation and restoration of historic monuments was drawn up at an international conference in Venice. This became the Venice Charter1. In 1977 after the formation of Australia ICOMOS (International Council of Monuments and Sites) conservation practitioners decided to review the Venice Charter in relation to conservation practice in Australia. The Australia ICOMOS Charter for the conservation of places of cultural significance was adopted in 1979 at a meeting at the historic mining town of Burra Burra in South Australia. Hence its short title, the Burra Charter2. The Burra Charter reflects the concepts and philosophy of the Venice Charter but in a revised format more useful in Australia. The Burra Charter (henceforth referred to as the Charter) has been revised three times, in 1981, 1988 and 1999. The Charter provides guidance for the conservation and management of places of cultural significance. It addresses conservation principles, processes and practices. The Charter is an industry standard document in the conservation and management of heritage sites, most often but not exclusively, built structures. In the absence of a similar document for movable heritage the Charter can be successfully applied to the conservation of large technology objects which have many similarities to sites in terms of size and complexity. In Australia there is a National Conservation and Preservation Policy for Movable Cultural Heritage, which was developed by the Heritage Collections Committee of the Cultural Ministers Council in 19953. While this provides strategic direction for government contributions to the preservation of moveable cultural heritage it does not outline in any practical detail appropriate conservation philosophy. The key concepts outlined in the Charter are already applied by many people working with large technology objects. Nevertheless I have found it is useful to review all treatments using the Charter framework. The Charter uses the term place to describe the site, area or building which is to be conserved. In this paper I have replaced the term place with object to emphasise and clarify the applicability of the Charter to large technology objects. �Definitions Initially the definition of terms in the Charter provides an insightful framework for understanding and managing conservation processes. The key terms from Article 1 of the Charter are: Conservation means all the processes of looking after an object so as to retain its cultural significance. Maintenance means the continuous protective care of the fabric and setting of an object, and is to be distinguished from repair. Repair involves restoration or reconstruction. Preservation means maintaining the fabric of an object in its existing state and retarding deterioration. Restoration means returning the existing fabric of an object to a known earlier state by removing accretions or by reassembling existing components without the introduction of new material. Reconstruction means returning an object to a known earlier state and is distinguished from restoration by the introduction of new material into the fabric. Adaptation means modifying an object to suit the existing use or a proposed use. Interpretation means all the ways of presenting the cultural significance of an object. Significance The most critical idea presented in the Charter is the notion of understanding significance and allowing the significance of an object to guide appropriate conservation. Significant values can be aesthetic, historic, scientific, social or spiritual for past, present or future generations. i Conservation is based on a respect for the existing fabric, use, associations and meanings of an object. ii The Charter advocates a cautious approach to change – do as much as necessary to care for an object and make it useable, but otherwise change it as little as possible so that its cultural significance is retained. Similarly the Charter states conservation action should not impede the understanding of all of the layers of history in an object, as traces of additions and alterations may be an important part of i Article 1, Definitions, The Burra Charter: The Australia ICOMOS Charter for places of cultural significance 1999. ii Article 3 Cautious Approach, The Burra Charter: The Australia ICOMOS Charter for places of cultural significance 1999. �the significance of an object. Additionally conservation should not place unwarranted emphasis on any one value at the expense of others.iii In 1998 I was involved in conservation treatment of a landing vessel used at Gallipoli. This object had extensive post conflict alteration. The treatment had to both stabilise the boat, which was actively corroding along the keel, and emphasise the most significant period of the boat’s history – its use in the Gallipoli landing. By assessing and understanding the significance of the object, it was deemed acceptable to repaint the interior of the vessel to imitate the original service colours. Detailed paint examinations were carried out to determine the most appropriate colour and the interior was then painted with a reversible technique. Similarly, many bullet holes which had been painted over after collection were carefully stripped of recent paint to emphasise the conflict involvement of the vessel. In this instance I worked as a contractor and completed all the required treatment works. Skills and materials choice The Charter states that interdisciplinary input is required in the care of objects. In my experience a synergistic relationship between skilled tradespeople and conservation professionals is necessary for good treatment outcomes, particularly when restoration and reconstruction treatments are proposed. The Charter also states that traditional materials and techniques are preferred for the conservation of significant fabric. In many contexts this has the advantage of maintaining traditional skills as well as preserving objects. For example, in 2002 I was contracted to underpin and stabilise a laundry chimney for a regional museum. Traditional lime mortar mixes were used for all masonry repairs. These materials are of appropriate strength and chemically compatible with older building materials. The Charter also states that the use of modern materials is acceptable where they offer substantial conservation benefit and where the materials and techniques are supported by firm scientific evidence or a body of experience. iv Use The Charter specifies that where the use of an object is significant it should be retained. Similarly, objects should have a compatible use. New uses of an object should involve minimal change to significant fabric and should respect meanings and associations and, where appropriate, provide for continuation of practices which contribute to the cultural significance of an object.v I have been involved in a treatment to an Avro Anson cockpit in which original dials that had low levels of radioactivity were replaced with replica dials to facilitate the safe use of the cockpit by visitors. While significant fabric was removed, it was carefully identified, stored iii Article 5, Values, The Burra Charter: The Australia ICOMOS Charter for places of cultural significance 1999. iv Article 4, Knowledge, Skills and Techniques, The Burra Charter: The Australia ICOMOS Charter for places of cultural significance 1999. v Article 7,Use and Article 23, Conserving Use, The Burra Charter: The Australia ICOMOS Charter for places of cultural significance 1999. �and catalogued to facilitate replacement in the future. The benefit of this treatment was the continuation of use of the cockpit in its tradition as a training aircraft. Setting, Location and Contents It could be argued that Articles 8-10 in the Charter, which address setting, location and contents of places, have limited application to moveable cultural heritage. However many large technology objects have site specific histories that contribute to the significance of the objects. I was involved in a conservation study and treatment design for a large working plant room in an historic building. Individually many of the items of plant equipment had limited significance, however as a whole collection that illustrated technological and social change over a period of seventy years they were worthy of preservation. In this case, modern equipment was fitted in around redundant services that were retained in situ. Reversible concrete floors were cast over the historic floors to make the area meet modern OH&S standards for safety while preserving the original floors and markings below. Similarly contents and fixtures within objects can also contribute to their significance and should be retained. The Charter states that removal of contents, relocation or significant changes of setting are not acceptable unless it is the sole means of ensuring the objects’ preservation. In the treatment of the landing vessel mentioned earlier it was necessary to remove large accumulations of soil from against the keel in order to stabilise corrosion. Recognising the potential significance of this material, adhesive lined fabric was used to support the removed dirt and inclusions (including bullets). This material was carefully labelled and accessioned into the museum collection. Participation The importance of providing for the participation of people for whom the object has special associations or meanings is also outlined in the Charter. It states that opportunities for commemoration and celebration should be investigated and implemented.vi As a consultant designing a treatment I was involved in the control of dry rot in a Waka (Maori war canoe). The canoe was to be paddled regularly for celebrations. This requirement for use had an impact on materials selected for consolidating the weakened timber. Change The issue of change to objects is also outlined. Here many of the tenets of museum conservation practice are reflected. The Charter recognises that change may be necessary to retain cultural significance, but that it is undesirable where it reduces cultural significance. Any change which reduces cultural significance should be reversible. Removed significant fabric should be reinstated where circumstances permit. Existing fabric, use, associations and meanings should be adequately recorded before any changes are made to an object. Additionally, any significant vi Article 12, Participation and Article 24, Retaining Associations and Meanings, The Burra Charter: The Australia ICOMOS Charter for places of cultural significance 1999. �fabric which has been removed from an object, including contents and fixtures, should be catalogued and protected in accordance with its significance.vii Preservation, Restoration and Reconstruction Treatments that involve preservation (i.e. the protection of an object without obscuring the evidence of construction or use) should always be applied when the fabric is so significant that it should not be altered, or in cases where there is insufficient evidence to allow other conservation process to be carried out. viii I have been involved in making treatment recommendations for a number of items in regional collections, including train carriages, saw mill equipment and coastal defence weaponry. In a number of instances there has been insufficient evidence of the significance of the objects to formulate complex treatments. Instead, low cost preventive solutions have been the key to ensuring ongoing protection while further research can be done. The Charter clarifies that treatments that involve restoration, reconstruction and adaptation should reveal significant aspects of the object. Restoration is only appropriate if there is sufficient evidence of an earlier state of the fabric. Reconstruction and new work should be identifiable on close inspection or through additional interpretation. ix For example, during the treatment of a First World War Howitzer I applied many reconstructive treatments. This was acceptable as the significance of the object was purely as an example of type and it had no specific service history. For the purposes of interpretation it was necessary to present the object as close as possible to its service appearance. However all changes made were reversible and based on physical or documentary evidence. Conservation Practice The final section in the Charter outlines key considerations in conservation practice. It highlights the necessity for treatment works to be preceded by studies which help to identify the significance of the object. Analysis of physical, documentary, oral and other evidence should always be part of conservation. When completing contracted conservation work I have found that it is often beneficial to have a staged work program that is flexible enough to deal with unexpected findings. The Charter recommends that statements of significance for each item should be prepared, justified and accompanied by supporting evidence.x While this is common practice in the built heritage field, it is also increasingly common in museum environments with moveable collections. While in my experience I have never been presented with a written statement of significance for a moveable item, much of the same information is collected in an informal situation through discussion with curatorial staff. The vii Article 15, Change, Article 27, Managing change and Article 33, Removed Fabric, The Burra Charter: The Australia ICOMOS Charter for places of cultural significance 1999. viii Article 17, Preservation, The Burra Charter: The Australia ICOMOS Charter for places of cultural significance 1999. ix Articles 19, Restoration, 20, Reconstruction , 21, Adaptation and 22, New Work, The Burra Charter: The Australia ICOMOS Charter for places of cultural significance 1999. x Article 26, Applying the Burra Charter, The Burra Charter: The Australia ICOMOS Charter for places of cultural significance 1999. �discipline of producing a written statement of significance can nevertheless be beneficial as it ensures all parties involved in work on an object have the necessary background information to inform treatment decisions. The Charter recommends the records associated with the conservation of an object should be placed in a permanent archive and be made publicly available where possible. Similarly the records about the history of an object should be protected. xi The Charter concludes with a comment on resources, stating that adequate resources should be provided for conservation. It also notes that the best conservation often involves the least work and can be inexpensive.xii This paradox is nicely illustrated by some sawmill equipment for which I designed a treatment program. The components were extensively corroded and had suffered significant paint loss. As the evidence and justification for repainting the objects was not available, my recommendations included siting the equipment undercover and raised up off the ground. This inexpensive option preserved all the layers of history embedded in the object and provided the time for the owners to research the significance of the collection before deciding on any more invasive treatments. Similarly, involvement of conservation professionals is not always as expensive as one might expect. I complete work that ranges from quick onsite consultations to full hands-on treatments. In many cases I have been involved in designing treatments for objects that will then be carried out by others with limited skills, in one instance using people on a work-for-the-dole project. Conclusions The Burra Charter provides a user friendly guide to appropriate conservation treatments. It is applicable to both heritage sites and large technology objects without any compromise. It is also a useful tool for communicating conservation philosophy in those instances where treatments or limited treatments need to be justified. References 1 ICOMOS. The Venice Charter, International Charter for the conservation and restoration of monuments and sites, (1964), ICOMOS. 2 Australia ICOMOS. The Burra Charter: the Australia ICOMOS Charter for Places of cultural significance (1999), Australia ICOMOS Melbourne. 3 Heritage Collections Committee of the Cultural Ministers Council. National Conservation and Preservation Policy for Movable Cultural Heritage (1995), Heritage Collections Committee of the Cultural Ministers Council. xi Article 32, Records, The Burra Charter: The Australia ICOMOS Charter for places of cultural significance 1999. xii Article 34, Resources, The Burra Charter: The Australia ICOMOS Charter for places of cultural significance 1999 � https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/21127/archive/files/e7bc3208efd2839b76581762efd3aa29.pdf?Expires=1781740800&Signature=M4Adtm9hAraDfTUBNnwN%7EF4vCm6RXOU2om7dwI1iuJAbxrpOgrhepQ4qCib1GUr9EV-jiEvUHPf2ijagNVYDb3yoLdJs4HKeHsOZqIfEo%7E%7EIQXSyUWd4%7EoLGB-Sw9zgIkZ9XNW5uDHV%7EOj96lpmxq0Hz6DpRx6FxHCEvPrKLjkZjoA0O5tsHbcoIlVdD9C2msHZVFKf5wMJqdt4OKjO465qiW9LLMUZsys%7EBJMCcYnN7WVKrWyD-Hs36RPpdfLko0wPhrrE5uqYJJujDLwbxMnjZGF9CxyjduWznJJkYyrCXIMz-58yM7V3NxpRQ8behlHyQQHmciEsfzwHhEa9MDg__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM ee3481848c79e6889a55cd9bb97d6be2 PDF Text Text Application of the Burra Charter to large technology objects: a freelance conservator’s experiences. Gillian Mitchell – Question and answer session Fred Haynes: It's probably not a question as much as a statement. The island I work on…in our library I came across a conservation management plan. Oh, this was written, commissioned by the navy - this thing - terrific, great. But from my perspective, actually living amongst the old buildings and heritage buildings, the Defence maintenance people who organise any maintenance for anything pay absolutely no heed to that whatsoever. Joe Bloggs, the local contractor from down the road, comes and brings his bits from Bunnings hardware, screws them on, away he goes. There’s absolutely no auditing of that process. Gillian Mitchell: Yes. Fred Haynes: So that’s from the other end of what you’re getting at I suppose. All those words are terrific but it’s like a quality system – unless somebody actually follows that up it’s bits of paper on a shelf. Gillian Mitchell: Yeah for sure. And that’s probably quite similar to my experience at Old Parliament House, that there is a lot of time and energy put into the communication. Once those ideas have been established - the communication and dissemination of information to everybody, whether they’re staff or whether they’re contractors coming in on site - does take quite a lot of time and energy. But I guess once you’ve got that agreed understanding and the agreed reasons for the significance, then you’ve actually got something to communicate. So it’s a good starting point. But yeah, it’s definitely a long road. John Kemister: Mine’s an allied question if you like. Gillian – you’re out in private practice. A private collection – the owner has the ultimate decision as to what he wants to do with it. Have you had any interesting instances where you’ve had to sort of gently steer somebody away from a course of action to a more conservative course of action in private practice? Gillian Mitchell: In the context of private collections…I haven’t done a lot of work for private collectors. That work tends to be limited to much smaller objects – Mrs Blogg’s ceramic that is broken. No, I can’t really think of a good example of where that’s been the case. As a general rule you can often sell, though, going with a more conservative approach because it’s a lower cost, lower time-intensive outlay, and you can quite often get good results by saying “No look, you don’t actually have to worry about all this really high cost, fancy technological stuff – we can just do this, this and this and that’ll get us out of the woods”. Alison Wain: That’s something that Chris Knapp referred to yesterday actually, was the lower cost of conservation, in fact, than many more restoration based approaches. Gillian Mitchell: Yes. �Alison Wain: You said that the clause on the removal of contents was perhaps not so relevant, but actually I think that’s a really important one for large technologies. Because one thing I’m aware of is that we’re often rather free with interchanging contents and spares from one LTO to the other, or considering parts of one LTO as spares for another, and we’ve referred to that in a number of papers today. And that’s often necessary – it’s the only way you can get parts that you need, to make an object complete for interpretation or structurally complete or operable or whatever. But particularly, also it can be where [there are] contents that you can easily take in and out – they’re not part of the structure of the object, and we are I think perhaps a bit free with that and that’s perhaps somewhere where the Charter would be really good. Gillian Mitchell: That was actually what I meant – [sorry] if I said it upside down. I was saying that if you were looking from outside you might think that that clause was one of the least applicable if we’re transferring it across, but indeed I absolutely agree with you it’s one of the most essential, and it’s perhaps one of the areas where we are too lax and there really are many instances where the contents and the context and the physical situation of the object perhaps should have much more attention than they do, being dragged out of context and plonked in a museum somewhere – absolutely. An example of that that I didn’t actually get to was the Gallipoli boat that I talked about – the importance of contents. Part of the treatment was - the keel, under many layers of paint and dirt, was corroding quite badly and we had to do a corrosion control treatment in that spot, but that meant removing a whole lot of accretions that had been bound in by many many layers of paint. So we actually lined those with adhesive fabric lining and took all of that dirt out and kept it and put it in the Wear Memorial’s collection in storage somewhere as historic dirt. But it actually contained all sorts of bits and pieces, including bullets, so there’s a nice example of how something hidden adds a little bit more to the story. Nikki King-Smith: Just a quick comment on the use of the Burra Charter – I’ve been thinking of using the Burra Charter for the outline for my project which is the submarine in the slipway, and that’s predominantly because I don’t actually have a curator or curatorial guidance on what I’m doing. So the Burra Charter gives me a really good way, and concise way, of thinking about the things that I’m not actually trained to think about. It’s a good backup for a system that’s a bit faulty. Gilian Mitchell: Yeah – good stuff. John Griswold: John Griswold, also a private conservator, from Los Angeles. I wanted to thank you for your talk and applaud you for the cross disciplinary imagination, applying this to the context of objects. And also to let you know that the Burra Charter is something that does resound around the world as something that we certainly discuss in the United States, where we have our own Code of Ethics and Guidelines for Practice from the AIC, but also work within the context of World Heritage – documents like this. And to me the significance of the Burra Charter, and the extreme value of it, is exactly what you just said – the focus on significance, And I think because our professional documents really grew out of the context of, quote, “high art” paintings and sculpture, where connoisseurship and curatorial expertise and input was just sort of endemic to that culture, there was either that sort of fundamental understanding of what the significance was or a qualified expert was there at your shoulder to tell you. But we were often the ones in the front lines coming up with the �primary evidence as we were entering into our treatments and we had a lot to do in participating in that dialogue. And I think it’s a very valuable document in world dialogue right now, for our collective professions to really share that responsibility for recognising significance - and also multiple significances - and shining a real light on the fact that significance will change. And I guarantee you on just about any object over the next 500 years – which is not an unreasonable time span to be looking at things – different factors will affect the significance of the things that we do to enhance or amplify or highlight a particularly perceived significance. [So these ] do need to be reversible, so again thankyou for your talk, I found it really interesting. Gillian Mitchell: No worries – thank you. If you haven’t had the opportunity to read the Burra Charter, if you just get onto the internet and type in “The Burra Charter” you can get the full text and everything. It comes up immediately; it’s very easy to find if you do want to chase it up. Alison Wain: Just one more comment on that issue of change of significance – I was having a very interesting discussion with Nick Langford earlier today. We’ve got a Ford WOT truck which is acquired into our collection because it’s relevant – trucks like that were used in World War Two. But it later had a history with Melbourne tramways, and in fact we were doing an initial induction and clean and Jamie found a tramways button, stuffed right down into layers of dirt that obviously hadn’t been disturbed in decades. So that’s just a really nice confirmation of that history, and we were discussing that - with the distributed national collection (the idea of a national collection, so you’re not duplicating particular types of objects in too many different institutions) - Nick was saying that he wasn’t aware of that type of truck in many other collections. So it may be that we actually have another responsibility besides our responsibility to our own collections framework. Do we have a responsibility to keep that other aspect of its history for the more distributed national collection? And who knows – in 100, 200 years time it might be that other aspect that might be seen as more significant, I don’t know. John Kemister: Just a follow on to the things you find in objects, could I urge everybody who is working with objects to be very very careful of the crud that you get out of the bottom of objects? There is a lot of history in those. It was just referred to there, the context if you like, what do we do with the bullets we found in the bottom of the Gallipoli boat? Do you leave them in there where they can disappear? The most important thing is to keep track of them, get them accessioned, get them as a subaccession to the object so that at least people know they’re there and that they can be displayed. Things in the Lancaster – ammunition clips, propaganda leaflets, a whole heap of things which are part of the context of the object that should be either kept with it, or if impractical, recorded. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Big Stuff 2004 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2004 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Alison Wain Article An article in a journal or periodical Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Application of the Burra Charter to large technology objects: a freelance conservator’s experiences Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Gillian Mitchell Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2004 Burra Charter conservation significance standards