HERITAGE AND CLASS:
Places we should keep

by Peter Mac

They form part of our collective heritage, that is to say the places that 
we should preserve for this and future generations — and not only for our 
own descendants, but for those of other countries.

The places we cherish include those that form part of our natural heritage, 
such as wilderness areas or coastlines. We hear plenty about the struggle 
to preserve these areas. But they also include the cultural heritage, i.e. 
that part of our environment that was built or developed by human beings.

We have many fascinating examples of these, including our early buildings, 
gardens and landscaping. Mark Twain wrote at some length about Victoria's 
great 19th century public buildings, which he described as 
disproportionately grand for the population size.

However, not all such treasures are old, even by our standards. The Sydney 
Opera House was opened only 26 years ago but is widely admired as a 
wonderful piece of architecture, despite the political philistinism that 
prevented the realisation of the original concept (and despite the fact 
that most Australians can't afford to see the performances anyway).

Such places may be important to us quite independently of how this or that 
person or group feels about them — or, for that matter, whether they are 
aware of the existence of the place at all.

We still have much to learn, for example, about Aboriginal culture, which 
may in some areas of Australia be more than 40,000 years old.

We are also still investigating the early visits of Europeans to Australia. 
These include the Portuguese navigator De Quiros, who may have mapped the 
East Coast of Australia as early as 1525 AD.

He is thought by some scholars to have lost one of his vessels, the 
mysterious "mahogany ship", on the Victorian coast at Warnambool, and to 
have entered at Twofold Bay on the NSW South Coast, where the ruins of 
unidentified stone structures may still be seen.

At the other end of the scale, the reason why a place is classed as 
significant may seem totally inappropriate.

Some people were mystified at a recent NSW Government decision to place a 
row of small fibro cottages in Sydney on a list of places worthy of 
preservation.

However, the houses were not nominated because of their aesthetic 
qualities, but because they were the first houses constructed after the 
Second World War by the Housing Commission of New South Wales.

They are therefore associated with an important public housing 
organisation, and also with the effect the Commission had in helping to 
overcome the critical post-war housing shortage in NSW — a development 
that had great importance for the working class in that state.

Similarly, the proposal to list the old public toilets of Sydney's streets 
for preservation was greeted with some amazement.

However, these structures are important because of what they tell us about 
aspects of 19th century public buildings such as design, and construction 
materials and methods.

They also tell us about the day-to-day life of former generations, 
including the life of the Australian working class. This entire range of 
very useful public facilities is now, in fact, extremely rare.

They have now been almost totally removed from the streets of Australia's 
major cities, and usually by the decision of people who don't spend much 
time trudging the city pavements.

We also may not value a place simply because we are familiar with it — and 
familiarity breeds contempt.

One of the miners who built the tiny houses at Era beach in NSW during the 
depression used to say, "It's only a bloody humpy" when referring to the 
tiny cottage his son built. But the Era dwellings were, for the most part, 
built during the Great Depression, and are now recognised by the NSW 
Government as extraordinary examples of innovative and resourceful "do-it-
yourself" housing built during that terrible period in our history.

In fact, some very important places may actually be unpopular in the eyes 
of large sections of the public. A house may be the local eyesore, but the 
fact that Henry Lawson or Katherine Susannah Pritchard lived there while 
writing a book makes it important for reasons that have nothing to do with 
its architectural qualities.

The first decree of the new Soviet Government in Russia in 1917 was for the 
protection of monuments.

This was necessary to protect the ancient Russian churches, which had 
become a symbol of the support the reactionary Church hierarchy had given 
to the aristocracy prior to the revolution.

The decree had the desired effect of making the workers aware that the 
buildings were now theirs, "the property of the people" as John Reed 
described in his book Ten Days That Shook the World.

But there was another reason for the workers to respect these places. And 
that was because they themselves had created them. The gilded domes, the 
intricate stonework, the lovely windows, were all the work of talented 
designers, architects, artists, masons, carpenters and other craftsmen.

So it is in our country, as in all others. In his great poem, Questions 
from a worker who reads, Bertolt Brecht made the point that it was the 
working people, not their masters, who actually created the physical values 
throughout all periods of history.

Someone once referred to historic buildings and other structures as "that 
most fascinating of documents".

All such places have the potential to inform us about history, and 
therefore of class struggle. The houses of the rich and the poor tell us 
about the relative lifestyle of their inhabitants as well as the skill of 
those who created them.

The woolsheds, factories and warehouses tell us about industrial processes, 
labour skills and working conditions.

The austere but beautiful buildings of Norfolk Island and other penal 
institutions tell us about the treatment of the British convicts who, with 
their descendants, eventually formed the fledgling working class of 
Australia.

The early buildings of Rottnest Island tell us about the spread of European 
settlement across Western Australia and the imprisonment of the Aboriginal 
leaders who resisted that invasion.

Threats to places of significance

All places of cultural significance are public in the sense that we all 
experience them. As architect Gerry MacDonnell used to say: "the inside of 
your house is private property but the outside is public property".

This concept underpins the legislation that has been drawn up since the 
1970s to protect places of significance.

The idea that the public has environmental rights that may override those 
of private property is long established with regard to issues such as 
industrial pollution.

However, it is only relatively recently that this has been established in 
law with regard to architecture and cultural heritage.

The law to some extent now offers protection to places of significance 
which have been formally listed. There are now clearly defined guidelines 
for heritage listing in most states and territories, which is intended to 
offer official protection to places of historic, aesthetic, technical or 
social significance.

But the places that have been formally listed are not the only ones worthy 
of protection.

And even for the listed places, the current legislation, which varies from 
state to state, is not sufficient to offer real and lasting protection.

Our total stock of places of cultural significance, collectively known as 
the national estate, is still under threat. And every year more of these 
treasures are spoilt or lost altogether.

It's true that simple ignorance or philistinism contributes to this loss. 
But that's not the principal threat to the national estate. That kind of 
threat pales into insignificance compared to the unbridled greed of the 
commercial developer.

A stunning example of the effect of commercial development is currently 
appearing in Prague. One of the first buildings constructed in this city 
after the reinstatement of capitalism was the hideously twisted "Fred and 
Ginger" office building, a suitable symbol of the revived socio-economic 
system.

Skyscrapers are now beginning to puncture the beautiful skyline of this 
metropolis, until recently the last great, relatively intact medieval city 
on earth.

But we have plenty of examples on our own doorstep. In some cases 
developers carry out demolitions, either legally or by finding loopholes in 
the law. Mysterious fires destroy important heritage sites.

Compliant local councillors approve development applications involving 
demolition of important sites, or the privatisation of public parkland.

One Sydney mayor recently removed 60 sites from a list prepared by experts 
detailing places worthy of preservation within his local government area.

Early buildings are preserved as street frontage only, so that their 
facades remain grotesquely fixed like historic postage stamps to new 
skyscraper envelopes.

The views of Sydney Opera House from the city are now blotted out by hotel 
development for wealthy tourists.

Conclusion

As a nation we are constantly reassessing our history.

Things that we took for granted recently acquire significance in the 
perspective of history. The passing of time allows us to view events and 
development in a new light and frequently reveals information about a place 
which is important to this and future generations.

In time we come to view certain places as important to us as a people, and 
there are many others which we might include in our list if we were aware 
of their history and significance.

But if we and our children are to continue to enjoy and marvel at these 
places, and to continue to be informed by them, we must fight to preserve 
them. After all, as a people we will in truth own them one day. As the song 
says:

Then we'll own those
banks of marble,
With a guard on every
door,
And we'll own those
vaults of silver,
That the workers sweated
for.


Questions from a worker who reads

Who built the seven towers of Thebes?
The books are filled with the names of kings.
Was it kings who hauled the craggy blocks of stone?
And Babylon, so many times destroyed,
Who built the city up each time? In which of Lima's houses, 

That city glittering with gold, lived those who built it?
In the evening when the Chinese wall was finished
Where did the masons go? Imperial Rome
Is full of arcs of triumph. Who reared them up? Over whom
Did the Caesars triumph? Byzantium lives in song,
Were all her dwellings palaces? And even in Atlantis of the 
legend
The night the sea rushed in,
The drowning men still bellowed for their slaves.
Young Alexander plundered India.
He alone?
Caesar beat the Gauls.
Was there not even a cook in his army?
Phillip of Spain wept as his fleet was destroyed.
Were there no other 
Tears?
Frederick the Great triumphed in the Seven Years War. Who 
Triumphed with him?
Each page a victory.
At whose expense the victory ball?
Every ten years a great man, Who paid the piper?
So many particulars,
So many questions.

(Brecht)