Showing posts with label Environment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Environment. Show all posts

Friday, 23 October 2026

Why Are New Buildings Made to Look Historical?

An Exploration of Traditional Architecture in Modern Times

[Editor’s note: In August local architect Phil Green put forward to members of Tauranga Historical an illustrated talk on the above topic.  It was not a discussion of old buildings: it explored reasons why, despite having unlimited technological freedom, modern architects so often create new buildings intentionally designed to resemble historical architecture. Because of its relevance to heritage conservation debate generally, we offer a lightly edited version of it here.]


Two city-state skylines: Athens, above, and Singapore, below

As one of humanity's oldest forms of cultural expression, buildings tell stories about the societies that created them.  Even though computer modelling now allows architects to design forms that would have been impossible only decades ago, they still make use of historical references.

Reasons for this tradition can be found by examining its historical origins, the social influences and economic motivations that drive it, and developments in construction techniques.  The tradition also has its critics; its continued use carries some implications for the future.

Creating buildings that imitate earlier styles is not a modern phenomenon. Throughout history, architects have repeatedly looked backwards for inspiration. The Renaissance revived the architecture of Ancient Rome. The Gothic Revival movement of the nineteenth century brought medieval design back into fashion. The Greek Revival movement spread across Europe, New Zealand, Australia and North America, where government buildings were deliberately designed to resemble ancient Greek temples. These styles were not considered copies. Instead, they represented admiration for earlier civilisations while adapting them for contemporary society.

Today's historical-style developments continue this tradition. Architects have a wide repertoire of historical elements they can use:

  • Stone or brick façades
  • Symmetrical layouts and classical proportions
  •  Columns, porticos, decorative cornices and arches
  • Timber detailing and decorative ironwork
  • Structural features like pitched roofs and traditional window arrangements.
Auckland Municipal Destructor and Depot (Former), Auckland. CC BY-SA 2.0
Image courtesy of commons.wikimedia.org | Joe Ross

Although these features can appear to be centuries old, most are manufactured using modern construction techniques. Behind the façade is usually reinforced concrete, structural steel, modern plumbing, elevators, air conditioning and sophisticated earthquake engineering. Therefore, these buildings are historically inspired rather than historically constructed.

One of the strongest arguments for historical architecture is its ability to preserve cultural identity. European cities attract millions of tourists because their streets possess architectural consistency developed over centuries. Many newer developments - including in colonised countries - imitate these environments because visitors associate traditional architecture with authenticity and culture. Some entire towns have been designed using historical styles specifically to attract tourism. Although these places may be relatively modern, visitors enjoy the atmosphere they create

Cuidad Cayala, Guatemala City [1]

When entirely modern buildings are inserted into historic districts, many people believe they interrupt this visual harmony. Architects are therefore asked to design sympathetic buildings that blend with their surroundings. This approach is especially common in heritage precincts where planning regulations require new developments to complement existing streetscapes. Rather than competing with historic landmarks, new buildings become part of a continuous architectural story.

British urban street: eighteenth, nineteenth and late twentieth-century styling

Numerous surveys have shown that the public often prefer traditional architecture to highly modern designs. Psychologists suggest that humans naturally appreciate buildings containing patterns, symmetry and ornament. Traditional buildings also tend to include features at human scale: visible windows, decorative entrances, textured materials, clearly defined roofs.

Glass towers, while impressive, can sometimes feel anonymous or intimidating. Traditional architecture often creates a greater sense of comfort and belonging. Supporters of today's revival architecture see it as continuing a tradition that has existed for thousands of years, and  argue that cities should prioritise beauty over novelty. If people enjoy traditional buildings more, architects should design environments people actually want to live in.

Suburban residential street in Poundbury, Dorset [2]

Financial considerations can play a major role. Historic-looking buildings often command higher property values. Luxury developments frequently incorporate classical architectural elements because they communicate permanence, stability and prestige. Hotels designed to resemble historic mansions often attract visitors seeking a distinctive experience. Retail developments may re-create historic streets because customers generally spend more time in visually attractive environments. Developers understand these preferences. If buyers prefer traditional homes, developers build traditional homes. Architecture therefore reflects market demand as much as artistic vision. For developers, architecture is therefore not only an aesthetic but also a commercial strategy.

Regent Street, Christchurch New Zealand.
Left to right: before the 2011 earthquakes; rebuilding; and re-completed.

Not everyone supports historical revival architecture. Critics argue that it imitates rather than innovates; that architecture should represent its own era, and that false historical appearance may confuse future generations.  Certainly, decorative features can increase construction costs. Many modernist architects believe “honesty in architecture” means expressing modern materials rather than disguising them. They argue steel should look like steel—not stone.

Another criticism of older architecture is that historic buildings are often inefficient. However, modern historical buildings usually combine traditional appearance with sustainable technology. Thermal, energy and water conservation measures mean architects no longer need to choose between beauty and sustainability. Modern engineering allows both.

Although historical buildings may appear handcrafted, today's construction methods are highly advanced. Technologies such as computer-aided design (CAD,) Building Information Modelling (BIM), laser-cut stone, 3D-printed mouldings, prefabricated wall systems, earthquake-resistant steel frames and fire-resistant materials dramatically reduce construction costs while maintaining historical appearance. A building that once required decades to complete can now be finished within a few years.

Artificial intelligence, robotics and digital fabrication are changing architecture rapidly. Future historical buildings that appear to be almost identical to buildings constructed centuries ago may be constructed using autonomous robots and 3D-printed stone. At the same time, architects continue searching for ways to balance innovation with cultural heritage. Rather than replacing history, modern architecture increasingly seeks to build upon it.

Centre for Performing Arts, downtown Vancouver, Canada

The growing popularity of new buildings designed to look historical reflects a desire to connect the past with the present. These buildings preserve cultural identity, satisfy public preferences, enhance tourism, and often provide economic benefits, while incorporating modern technologies that improve safety, comfort and sustainability. Although debate continues between supporters of modernism and advocates of traditional design, historical-inspired architecture demonstrates that progress does not necessarily require abandoning the past.

Instead, architects are finding ways to combine centuries of architectural knowledge with contemporary engineering, creating buildings that honour history while serving the needs of modern society. However, historical significance is not always determined by architectural excellence alone. Sometimes ordinary buildings become treasured because of the stories they hold. Schools, community centres, workplaces, and homes can all gain historical value when they become connected to important evens, cultural movements, or shared memories. Heritage is a much about people as it is buildings.

Looking further ahead, future generations may even preserve examples of modular housing, adaptive reuse projects, and resilient structures designed to cope with rising sea levels and changing climates. These buildings may tell the story of how communities responded to some of the greatest challenges of our era. 

Left: Neoclassical futurism, designed by Tim Fu [3]. Right: A biophilic city, designed for construction by 3D robots [4]

Ultimately, the architecture that becomes historic will be the architecture that best represents who we were. It will reflect our innovations, our struggles, our successes, and our vision for the future. As architects, planners, builders, and citizens, we have a responsibility to consider not only what we build today, but what legacy we leave for tomorrow. The historical architecture of the future is already being designed, constructed, and lived in around us. The buildings we create today are not merely structures of the present – they are the heritage of future generations.


Image credits

All images except the photo of the Auckland Municipal Destructor and Depot were sourced by Phil Green.

References and captions

These were contributed by the editor.

 [1] For further discussion, see https://www.archdaily.com/1034953/the-cayala-paradox-how-are-private-districts-shaping-public-space-design-in-guatemala

[2] For further information, see https://poundbury.co.uk/

[3] An exponent of architectural practice using artificial intelligence: see https://www.timfu.com/tim

[4] for a practical example of a biophilic structure within an existing city, see https://journalofbiophilicdesign.com/journal-of-biophilic-design/rotterdam-rocks-a-new-biophilic-landmark-for-rotterdam

Friday, 2 August 2024

Living on the Land - Mokomoko Marama on the Minden Dome

Matua sub-series stratigraphy, Te Mete Road, south side SH2

The vigorous geology of our country makes its presence felt in all sorts of places, especially in the well-populated western Bay of Plenty.  Present and increasing settlement pressures are frequently the reason for analysis and archaeology that reveals the pre-history of the landscape surrounding us [1]. 

Recent excavation for the Takitimu North Link (TNL) highway in Te Puna, at Te Mete Road, has revealed the alluvial soils of the Matua subgroup (and some recently-piled topsoil to the right).  The stratigraphy showing up most clearly in this image, above the bright green strip of grass, and below the newly-built fence, evokes the handsome markings of the copper skink, Oligosoma aeneum. 

Copper skinks (Auckland) [2] Photo by Nick Harker

Skink and gecko populations were spread all over New Zealand Aotearoa when humans arrived, and skinks had been here for about 20 million years [3] (geckos have a different and more complex story).  The lizards of this whenua are deeply endemic - each has its own family - but within each their species proliferate in tiny ways.   Not only does this keep herpetologists happily contending [4]; it also means their small populations are highly vulnerable [5]. But also adaptable, it seems. It is possible that skinks were in place here before the Matua subgroup soils were laid down in the early to Mid-Pleistocene. [6][7]

Their vulnerability in the Anthropocene explains why care was taken, on the TNL site, to capture and re-release these elusive creatures.  Some went to Mauao [8]. Others, with less publicity, were taken to the Te Puna Quarry Park. And now, even if (like most of us) you never catch a glimpse of a live one, a new sculpture by Mike McCarty, made from leftover steel from the TNL project and named “Marama [9]”, confirms the Quarry Park as an enduring place for mokomoko.

Mokomoko, Te Puna Quarry Park

It was not always so. Were County Engineer Captain A.C. Turner, or his overseer for the Te Puna Riding, George Davoren, asked, in 1911 or so, to consider the effects of quarrying operations on the wild creatures that lived within the rectangle on the northern face of the Minden rhyolite dome gazetted for the purpose, I imagine their faces would have gone blank. This is an a-historical statement. I have no evidence for it whatsoever.

And I may be wrong. Evidence shows that attitudes to the natural environment was a focus of lively and pertinent discussion in Tauranga’s settler society. Only two months before the temporary Quarry reserve had been gazetted [10] on 6 October 1910, a Mr W.R. Turner, (no relation, as far as I can tell, to the Captain) ventured to read a paper on “The Natural History of the Bay of Plenty” to members of the Tauranga Literary and Debating Society assembled at the Good Templars’ Hall on Wednesday 27 July [11]. Mr Turner was a newcomer to Tauranga, recently settled in in a gracious house built to his own design in Selwyn Street [12].

“Turner” is too usual a name for simple internet searches to deliver reliable information as to personality, but we can work out that W.R. Turner was well-off, confident, vigorous, and had a lively mind. He not only built three houses for himself in Tauranga; he was apparently the architect of its first Baptist church [13]. He bought a farm on the Kaimai Road [14], joined the Chamber of Commerce, and was hon. secretary of the Tree Planting and Beautifying Society [15] in which capacity he led the charge for plantings on the Monmouth Redoubt “of a protective and ornamental character”.  In the small society of Tauranga [16] , he was ready to express his opinions and he did. The Literary and Debating Society, initiated as a “Mutual Improvement Society” seems to have been his idea [17].

Crusher bin and bird sculpture, Te Puna Quarry Park

His paper on the natural history of his newly-adopted landscape is a fascinating example of the state of general knowledge and thought at the turn of the twentieth century. After Darwin, but before plate tectonics, this member of the Baptist church thought the science was in on matters geological: “It had been pretty conclusively proved that New Zealand was no child in the arms of nature … we were not living upon a thin crust of the earth’s surface.” He grasped the scale of time involved and the “tremendous power of seismic, glacial, climatic and tidal forces in altering the physical features of the land.” He was matter-of-fact about fossils and the spread of species “by means of ice and drifting wood from one land to another”. (Read Gibbs on Gondwana to find out what particularly intrepid island-hoppers New Zealand skinks seem to have been. [18]) 

“The lecturer thought,” reports the Bay of Plenty Times, “that with regard to the appearance of flora and fauna upon new countries the founder of the scheme of life had never ceased to create, and that under certain conditions the earth produces species which are changed by environment in varieties.”

Turner was pretty good on the matter of the Matua sub-group soils as well  A “great formation of igneous matter consisted of lava, thrachyte [sic] and tuffs [sic], which had been cooled beneath the ocean… we were now living under the line of that formation… the destruction of this system found a great bay extending from the Mount towards the ranges; that after the denudation [sic, he possibly meant inundation] of the material there was an upheaval of land from the bed of the ocean, and that during a long period of volcanic rest a surface was formed, partly through sedimentary formations, and partly through the dust storms of the desert land. Evidence of this surface can now be seen in any of our cuttings and cliffs, which show an excellent soil full of organic matter which once produced a luxuriant vegetation.”

Cog wheel on rhyolite boulder, entrance, Te Puna Quarry Park

That luxuriant vegetation was well gone by the time Europeans arrived in the Bay.  There was no timber nearer than the current bush lines along the Kaimai and inland hills [19]. Even today the unbenched parts of the Te Puna Quarry reserve lack aged forest giants. Slash-and-burn cultivation had rendered the lowlands as, in the words of one surveyor, “very poor and broken fern country” [20]. Appreciative though I am of W.R.’s efforts, I doubt that the County Engineer, desperate as he was for a supply of roading stone, gave much thought to the wildlife that made a living there.

Machinery among rhyolite boulders, Te Puna Quarry Park

The Quarry Park is full of reminders of its industrial past. Their decayed mechanics among the rhyolite offer a nostalgic and softened gaze on what was once a brutally desolate, dangerous and noisy place.  Put sentiment aside. We need to be reminded where these relics come from and why they were used. (Point of fact: there never was a waterwheel in the industrial Quarry. That feature is a later, post-2000, addition.)

The scholarly field of environmental history has much to teach us. If nothing else, it prompts us to realise that memory shapes attitudes, and that ecologies, especially in complex geologies, are local.  The two Turner’s attitudes to their immediate landscapes looked forward as well as back. Today, it is clear we do the same.  We routinely “price in” the impact of industrial development on the places we once knew. Invariably the price is paid in small, local ways. To take just one example: by the copper skink. A previously abundant, now ‘at risk – declining’ [21] inhabitant of the surviving bush areas of the Western Bay. 

Note to the reader:  This essay does not deal with the second half of W.R. Turner’s lecture, a brave traverse of the anthropology of the day. I recommend reading it in the original.

All photographs except that of the copper skinks are by the author.

References

[3] Gibbs, G., Ghosts of Gondwana, fully revised edition, Potton and Burton, 2016

[4] Published species were noted as numbering 72 in Gibbs, 2016 and 110 in NZ Geographic, 2020

[5] Hansford, Dave, New Zealand Geographic, “Lizards anonymous”, March/April 2020, pp. 90-105

[8] Bay of Plenty Times, “Native lizards on Takitimu North Link roading project rehomed on the Mount”, August 12 2022 https://www.nzherald.co.nz/bay-of-plenty-times/news/native-lizards-on-takitimu-north-link-roading-project-rehomed-on-the-mount/OHFTHLMZDSFM3YQ5XEIP7K6OVY/

[9] Name bestowed by the pupils of Te Puna School, 4 July 2024

[16] My estimate: about 1,000 people in 1910.  See E. Stokes, Changing patterns of settlement in Tauranga County: a study in historical geography, https://paekoroki.tauranga.govt.nz/nodes/view/57096

[18] Gibbs, op.cit, p. 273

[19] Conversation with John Coster, date unknown.  See too E. Stokes, op cit, who recounts that timber for the military settlement had to come to Tauranga by boat from the Coromandel.

[20] Cadastral map 1370, Tauranga Survey District

Friday, 15 March 2019

The Battle for Rangataua Bay

Maungatapu, c.1960
Image courtesy of Tauranga City Library, Ref. 00-152
Our home in Welcome Bay looked out over beautiful Rangataua Bay and after I had heard the following story recalled by Carole Gordon I would often feel a wave of gratitude to those earlier settlers who put up a brave fight to prevent sewage being pumped into the bay.

In Carole’s words “I can’t remember the year when the fuss about the state houses actually began.  I think Jim Keam’s little subdivision had been put in when the Housing Corporation bought the low-lying tidal swamp below for a housing site.  The town was growing rapidly and there wasn’t enough housing so they were looking for cheap land.  When the swamp site at Welcome Bay was announced as a state housing site, local people were shocked.  We all knew that it filled up with water after storms or when there were high tides.

The Bay itself at the very end of Waitaha Road was very open and there was a real beach down in front or slightly to the left of the hall where a culvert went under the road; it took natural drainage from the swampy lower-lying land at the end of the road.  Children played there when they got off the school bus or kids from around the district would play down there on the beach.  As local people, we were very honest when we said that that was the children’s beach and that they were going to foul it by putting a sewage outlet there, from the proposed state housing subdivision.

The Demonstration
Image courtesy of Carole Gordon
This was the beginning of a long legal and heartfelt journey, people versus the state, to save Welcome Bay and the great harbour environment. The outcome was that the people prevailed and the city won an amenable government loan to the city sewage system that would replace septic tanks and avoid the leaching into the harbour.  Welcome Bay got a system of filter tanks and pumping stations that lead to Chapel Street.”

But in case the battle should appear easy this was far from the reality.  The fight went right through to the Environment Appeal Court but it began as “a spontaneous, organically erupting process.  It was totally the people, Maori and Pakeha, old and young, farmers and professionals, scientists and mothers, step by step, one challenge after another, learning as we went.  The issue of sewage disposal catalysed the Welcome Bay community.  A loosely connected action group formed in order to object to environmental effects.  Simply put we had to build a case that there was insufficient water flow.

Officials Discussing the Problem
Image courtesy of Carole Gordon
The scope of building the case grew as the process went through various legal processes.  The successful outcomes from the project are due to the many community volunteer hours, to the legal profession of Tauranga who gave services including Environment Court hearings and the DSIR scientists who freely gave advice as we undertook regular scientific testing such as coliform counts on the harbour perimeters. Over time testing revealed alarming levels of seepage from septic tanks. The houses on Waitaha Road sat empty while the process went on and on.”

George Gair, Minister of Housing, Addressing the Crowd
Image courtesy of Carole Gordon
The culmination of the project came when Bob Owens, the Mayor at the time, invited George Gair, The Minister of Housing to view the march and speak to the people.  The Bay of Plenty Times had been very supportive, carrying the story through to its conclusion.  Local bus companies offered free buses for all who wanted to be part of the event.  St Mary’s Catholic School was involved because they were feeling the effects of pollution on their foreshore.  They closed the school for the day and teachers, parents and children made a great sight as they walked across the harbour to Welcome Bay.

The march went from Maungatapu to Welcome Bay and in the end the decision was made on the day. George Gair came with a solution which he and Bob Owens must have worked out, which was to offer the council a low interest loan for sewage reticulation.  A victory for Welcome Bay and for the harbour.

Reference

A History of Welcome Bay, by Peg Cummins, 2015, ISBN 978-0-473-31165-0