Showing posts with label Heritage New Zealand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Heritage New Zealand. 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now allows architects to design forms that would have been impossible only decades ago, they still make use of historical references.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, 28 March 2025

Archaeology in a Small Locality

 

Like love in a cold climate, there may be more of it around than you might think. My initial search of the Heritage New Zealand database admitted some vagaries - it counted all references to the Katikati-Te Puna Purchase and included some reports concerning the Te Puna Mission Station in Northland. My own count of the ‘matches’ it presented found 31 reports of archaeological investigations in the rohe between the (southern) Wairoa River, along the Minden ridge and down to the Te Puna stream. All but one of them, (Motuhoa Island, 1983) were dated after the turn of this century.

Harper’s Farm, Munro Road East, Te Puna

Even before it became fashionable – or necessary – to establish evidence of prior settlement, I have long known we had archaeological sites at our front door. As a child I thought that two hillocks on two neighbouring properties on Munro Road were “made” – their shapes were too regular, their tops too flat, to be entirely natural. Celtic myths of the faery hunt in hollow hills, mixed with tales of waka being hauled into caves[1], fed my fantasies. I had to wait some decades to have the facts, revealed – as is often the case – by plans to subdivide and develop house plots on what had been open paddocks (and, within living memory, the site of a 1940’s cowshed).

Harper’s Farm map (Real Estate advert)

The realtor’s 2016 advertisement disclosed this hill to be a kainga site. It shows as the slightly irregular pink-shaded circle on the right-hand side of the following image. (The other pink areas were described as middens and possible storage pits.) In a map[2] surveyed after the Te Puna Quarry Reserve was gazetted in 1911, the same area is labelled, tantalisingly, as a “Village Res.”, indicating at least some memory of previous settlement. I suppose (I am not an archaeologist) that this flat-topped knob would be called a ‘platform’. Around 2020 a modern house was built at the bottom of the slope, its back garden shaving off a small flank of hillside. The rest of the hill has yet to attract the attentions of anyone with a trowel, brush and measuring stick, so material evidence of pre-European habitation remains in the ground. But the patterns of landform and geography – an undefended, nevertheless dominating, site adjacent to a watercourse and hillside forest – make it easy to imagine a way of life from 500 years ago.

This is but one example of the outburst of energies and archaeological attention stimulated by the growth of horticultural and “lifestyle block” development all over the western Bay of Plenty[3]. Even more locally, the creation of the “Minden Lifestyle Zone”[4] had the effect of intensifying modern settlement across an area that was, as the result of efforts by the Historic Places Trust and, in particular, post-grad students from the Anthropology Departments of Auckland and Otago Universities, much better understood as a landscape richly endowed with evidence of past existence. 

When Mary O’Keeffe published her thesis in 1991, she could refer to the (then) Tauranga County as “archaeologically unknown”, until it became the subject of “recent field work [that] has shown there to be a very large number and a wide variety of sites…”[5]. Her work was founded on an appreciation of the qualities that have continued to recommend themselves to subsequent populations: the benign environment and congenial climate of the countryside between the coast and the Kaimai range. Less appreciated, perhaps, is her other salient observation that “many features present do not show on the surface.[6]”

Maybe it is a feature of settler society to be unappreciative of anything much below the surface.  Writing in 2002[7], Garry Law reported to the Department of Conservation (in respect of a much larger area, DoC’s Bay of Plenty Conservancy)  that although Māori archaeological sites were better known and recorded (albeit in somewhat erratic fashion) than “historical” – that is, post-European – archaeology: “the forestry, mining and transport history readily seen on the ground”. To this we could add farming infrastructure. The aforementioned cowshed’s materials were all (except for the concrete milking floor) repurposed. Its floor survived until new foundations were laid for another 21st-century house.

Even a cursory analysis of the Heritage New Zealand database shows that, in the tiny area of Te Puna, there are two main drivers for archaeology:  roading and housing. The advent of the Takitimu Northern Link has generated a significant number of reports across a broad swathe of landforms, from the Wairoa River floodplain to the rolling uplands of the Minden Ridge. Because of its scale – at the time of writing it is the largest archaeological site in New Zealand – it has revealed patterns of settlement and itinerant activities (including the unfortunate effects of careless development) from the present day backwards to about 1350. Already it is altering Te Puna’s history, as it (we trust) stands the test of time and becomes, itself, “historical”.

As to housing: many of the addresses in the database search results were familiar. Building consents, even on ostensibly bare land in Te Puna, now very frequently require an archaeological report. So I got in touch with Murray Lloyd, who has lived all his life at 350 Wairoa Road[8]. In fact, the fourth generation of Lloyds now live there too. Murray’s family, starting from his grandfather, have been on the property since 1909. “Getting the report done was really pretty special,” Murray told me. “We always knew it had been lived on before, being right on the river – the main ‘road’, so to say – and my dad had a good relationship with Ngati Pango, especially the Apaapa whānau…  we thought it was important to know where it would be ok to put our houses. It was a bit of inconvenience, but it wasn’t a surprise, what we found out.”

Basalt adze found on Lloyd’s Farm, Wairoa Road
Image courtesy of Matthew Campbell, CFG Heritage Ltd

No-one should be surprised by the discussion in this essay.  Our locality has been lived in, worked over, and modified for centuries[9].  The powerfully haunting outline of the Papamoa pa system on our eastern horizon is a constant reminder.  My friend Kiritoha Tangitu said once:  “Whenever I look at them, I think: the work!  The work!”

So I approach with humility and admiration the whenua kua ngaro at the corner of my road.  It too took labour to create.  I also hope the whānau whose home it once was had times of peace and plenty before they had to abandon this small toehold at the foot of Rangituanehu.  I’m glad they left its shape behind them.

References


[1] Park, Ruth, The Hole in the Hill, first published 1 January 1961

[2] Survey plan  SO13702, South Auckland survey district

[4] https://www.westernbay.govt.nz/repository/libraries/id:25p4fe6mo17q9stw0v5w/hierarchy/property-rates-building/district-plan/plan-review-2009/minden-structure-plan/documents/PR%202.pdf

[5] O’Keefe (1991) p. 4.  Later, however, she states Tauranga County to be one of the most intensively investigated regions in New Zealand… some 4723 recorded sites within County boundaries.”

[6] O’Keefe (1991) p. 20