38 C O N T E X T 1 1 6 : S E P T E M B E R 2 0 1 0 Notes from the chair Wisdom of the banshees When not revelling in my new found status as your chairman, twirling my chain of office in delight, I am usually at work or trying my best to be a fit parent to my children. As you read this, those with children will be looking back on the holiday season. Those without will be taking advantage of the astonishing drop in the price of holidays post school holidays. We conservation types always seem to have the historic environment on our minds wherever we go and whatever we do. Sometimes we try to pass on our passion and interest to our loved ones. Most of my efforts can be met with anything from amused indulgence, through to kindly indifference and outright hostility. I can never tell what is going to interest them.The largest building made from coal in Kentucky raised a laugh a few years ago but this summer a visit to an almost derelict church in Ceredigion in its pre-Christian circular graveyard seemed to generate rumbling discontent rather than interest. During the school holidays, while in Norfolk visiting my parents, the girls and I popped out to a local farm shop to fetch more veg. Once there, we noticed a large yurt behind the shop.Those magic words ‘tea’ and ‘cake’ were visible on a sign beside the yurt, so I suggested we checked it out. Being the sort of parent who likes the chance to do a bit of impromptu lecturing, I explained about yurts and the Mongolians, Turkmens and Kazakhs who live in them, and about nomadic farming. I thought it generated a bit of interest. So I was quite surprised to overhear the following exchange between my two daughters. Eldest daughter (ED): So what was that tent thing? Younger daughter (YD): It’s a tent. A Mongol tent I think.They take it down and put it up.With the cows or camels. ED: So what’s it doing here? This is Norfolk.What’s a Mongol tent doing here? YD:Well, now it’s a Norfolk Mongol tent. Look, it says ‘local’ cakes on the side and the farm sells ‘local’ veg, fruit and meat. It’s a ‘local’ yurt (laughs with contempt). ED: But it’s not local is it? It’s Mongolian or somewhere to do with Borat. YD:Yea, but it’s like that stuff she kept going on about in Kings Lynn.You know the windows or something, and the shape of the roofs. All to do with Dutch or Germans selling things in the middle ages. ED: I remember.That was just before I tried to push you off the wall into the river. YD:Yes. I’m not going to forget that. But then we saw theWelsh Border collie.They’re my favourites. ED:That was a NorfolkWelsh Border collie. It was a local dog. (They laugh like banshees). This bizarre exchange between my children made me think. They had hit on something. Since the election there has been much discussion about localism.When framed by broad political aspirations, it can be puzzling. However, it made me think about the yurt and before that my feeble attempts to explain the Hanseatic League in Kings Lynn. It all fell into place. Localism makes complete sense to people like us. Since the very early years of our profession, we have cherished and celebrated the local in whatever form it takes: the connections between places, buildings, people and history, even yurts and dogs. Everything we do is defined by localism, from broad policies for areas or sites, to the selection of materials for a single building. I wonder if localism as we know it is not part of our DNA and we have just not yet related this to the current political passion. Conservation and the historic environment is all about localism, the character of our conservation areas, the context and grain of each settlement, the forces that shaped the landscape and so on. Each time we assess a development proposal for a local planning authority, appraise a conservation area, prepare a heritage statement to support a proposal or planning application, or put together a funding programme for a project, the local environment, its character, its past, present and future are woven into our determinations. While acknowledging the larger-thanlocal (or regional) planning imperatives that we are highlighting to government in partnership with the RTPI,WWF and many others, perhaps the new localism could also be a comfortable endorsement of our work and aspirations. As far as conservation and the historic environment goes, perhaps we are ahead of the game?We have always been local. Jo Evans, chair@ihbc.org.uk
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MjgyMjA=