Preservation of old towns in Norway: Heritage discourses, community processes and the new cultural economy

Preservation of old towns in Norway: Heritage discourses, community processes and the new cultural economy

Cities 31 (2013) 69–75 Contents lists available at SciVerse ScienceDirect Cities journal homepage: www.elsevier.com/locate/cities Preservation of o...

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Cities 31 (2013) 69–75

Contents lists available at SciVerse ScienceDirect

Cities journal homepage: www.elsevier.com/locate/cities

Preservation of old towns in Norway: Heritage discourses, community processes and the new cultural economy Torill Nyseth a,⇑, Johanne Sognnæs b a b

Department of Sociology, Political Science and Community Planning, University of Tromsø, 9037 Tromsø, Norway Norwegian Institute for Cultural Heritage Research (NIKU), Oslo, Norway

a r t i c l e

i n f o

Article history: Received 16 December 2011 Received in revised form 25 April 2012 Accepted 29 May 2012 Available online 9 July 2012 Keywords: Urban conservation Heritage management Governance Planning

a b s t r a c t Historic towns are preserved and given new importance within the new cultural economy. This paper examines the conditions under which built heritage is being preserved in urban regeneration programmes in a Norwegian context. An interesting finding from this study of three towns, Stavanger, Mosjøen and Risør, is that the conservation plan itself was not the most important factor. Part of the answer to the relative success of the conservation of these areas constituted preservation plans combined with management tools adopted locally and practised with flexibility to allow for the changes necessary to modern living. Even more important were the collaborative forms of governance developed over time that managed to anchor the goals and norms of preservation in the population. Ó 2012 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved.

Introduction In a number of European cities, the historic city centre has been preserved as an important part of the urban landscape, resisting demolition policies or modernistic and post-modernistic redevelopment. ‘Old towns’, understood as urban forms from the past, are being revitalised and given new importance in the contemporary city. This is not the case with all forms of urban built heritage, however, where it is the tourist-historic city that is being preserved (Ashworth & Tunbridge, 2000). To succeed, the framing of a preservation idea has to fit in with the broader urban development discourses of the cultural economy (Gibson & Kong, 2005; Landry, 2000). The aim of this paper is to develop a deeper understanding of why even old towns of ‘lesser significance’ than the most promoted tourist-historic cities are being preserved. In Norway, preservation of built heritage in urban environments has been a controversial issue in most urban areas for at least two decades, and still is. The historical city was often seen as dilapidated beyond repair, whereas the future was thought to belong to rationally planned, newly built forms (Hirt, 2005). Urban planning in Scandinavia is primarily concerned with new developments and the reforming of urban structures (Olsson, 2010). A relevant question is therefore under what circumstances built heritage becomes an asset in urban planning and development. Through a case study of the

preservation practices of three Norwegian ‘old towns’, this paper illustrates the complex mix of motivations, policies and governance practices involved. The paper examines the conditions under which policies making way for preservation have been developed and institutionalised, the arrangements that have been established and how they adapt to modern systems of urban planning and governance. The main focus is the diverse supplementary tools that have been developed in order to create what Pendlebury (2009) defines as ‘opportunity spaces’, spaces where built heritage has been re-evaluated as a quality over and above historic status in a modern urban environment. The paper is divided into five sections. It starts with some reflections about the national conservation context, and the methods and data related to the case studies, followed by elaboration of a theoretical framework, building on Patsy Healey and others’ (Coaffee & Healey, 2003; Healey, 2006) discussions about the dynamics of governance transformations. The next section presents the empirical findings. The argument adduced is that collaborative forms of governance combined with management tools adopted locally and practised with flexibility to allow for the changes necessary to modern living have been more important than the preservation plans for the conservation policy to succeed. The last section summarises the findings with a discussion and concluding remarks. Setting the context

⇑ Corresponding author. E-mail address: [email protected] (T. Nyseth). 0264-2751/$ - see front matter Ó 2012 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.cities.2012.05.014

Negussie (2006, p. 1803) claims that ‘in order to be successful, built heritage management in an urban context has to become

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integrated with the wider framework of urban planning policies’. Built heritage management must be understood within specific economic and cultural–political contexts, shaped by local, national and global political agendas. Preservation plans and urban regeneration did occur in planning agendas at approximately the same time in European countries in the 1970s (Gibson & Pendlebury, 2009). In Scandinavia, as in the western world at large, urban centres and especially urban residential areas were drained of investment and care as suburban developments flourished (Bye, 2010, p. 525). The rapid transformations that took place in the post-Second World War period with demolition of huge parts of the historic and ‘inefficient’ areas of towns gave place to nostalgia and ignited a counter-movement towards conservation in many places, particularly in those towns where there was something left of the historic buildings to preserve. In, for instance, Britain, new developments that meant demolishing old heritage buildings have met with protests from conservationists in nearly every large city (Pendlebury, 2009). Similar processes can also be observed in Norway, although not to the same extent. In Scandinavia, the ‘green movement’ began in the same period and partly overlaps with the conservation movement; it was during these years that the first conservation plans were promoted and implemented, some of them after considerable conflict, sometimes involving activist movements and pressure groups (Kittang, 2006; Kolbe, 2006). In many areas, partnerships and alliances between professional actors in the preservation sector and civil society were formed. New institutions were built, some of them of a permanent character. Preservation of whole building structures, the ‘built environment’, has been part of the Norwegian planning system since the Building Act of 1965.1 Before 1965, legislation was limited to the Cultural Heritage Act, focusing on individual monuments and on buildings of ‘outstanding and antiquarian value’. The Building Act integrated historic preservation into planning practice. For the first time ever, local planning authorities were given the opportunity to preserve areas of historic or cultural value. The ‘conservation area’ was the new concept that was adopted in the first conservation plans put in place in the 1970s. Whereas the Cultural Heritage Act was designated to ‘freeze’ history by focusing on authenticity, the preservation plans devised under the Building Act aimed at a balanced development wherein the new and the old could exist together and complement each other. Another characteristic of the Norwegian preservation practice of urban built heritage is a rather pragmatic attitude to modernisation, as most of these buildings serve residential purposes. Preservation was not about preventing further development, but adjusting renewal in accordance with the character of the architectural tradition in the region. In the many preservation plans devised in accordance with the Building Act, the statutes normally permitted remodelling and expansion of the preserved buildings and infill of new buildings, when this was done within a given ‘grammar’. ‘Preservation through use’ is the framework that tended to be applied. The ideal was to stay close to but not imitate the structure, scale and articulation of the original buildings. Another objective was to improve the quality of life in these protected areas. The houses and areas were meant to serve as functional frames for a modern way of life, and therefore adjustments were widely accepted (Bye, 2010; Nyseth & Sognnæs, 2009). This practice stands in contrast to more orthodox practices elsewhere, as for instance emphasised in the Amsterdam Charter2 which stressed that buildings should be restored authentically. The main focus in this paper will be on the supplementary tools that have been used to create opportunity spaces, spaces where built heritage has been revalued as a quality over and

above historic status in a modern urban environment. Of particular importance here are tools developed at the local level and adjusted to the specific local context. As will be demonstrated, models of governance exist in which actors outside the professional heritage management sector are involved, not only as pressure groups, but also mandated with some form of formal responsibility.

Methods and data The Norwegian cases discussed in this paper are ‘Old Stavanger’, Sjøgata in Mosjøen and the city centre of Risør. Research on the three case studies was conducted in 2008 and 2009. A map of all of the old towns represented in the study is presented in Fig. 1. The three cases (highlighted in the map) vary in size, Stavanger being a larger urban city and Risør and Mosjøen being two smaller towns. All three cases are illustrations of ‘Den Nordiska Trästaden’ (the Nordic wooden city), selected by Nordic ICOMOS to raise the status of wooden urban heritage in the 1970s (Berg, Kaul, et al., 1972). Despite huge differences in scale, the three cases have in common a sort of density and urban ‘pulse’, as built heritage sites located in an urban environment and as areas that have been preserved by a specific conservation paragraph in the Building Act. This set the theme for the European Architectural Year in 1975. They are also in line with the Amsterdam Charter’s call for ‘integrated conservation’,3 which stressed the significance of the built environment and ‘lesser buildings’, and was a supplement to the previous conservation practice focusing on major monuments (Bye, 2010, p. 529). The human scale of these wooden towns and their identity became central arguments for their preservation. Less emphasis was put on authenticity or their antique qualities. Old Stavanger is an example of a local initiative of preservation of a whole building structure as early as the 1950s, before proper statutory protection of the historic built environment became possible through the Building Act of 1965. All three sites are lived spaces, which are residential areas only or a mix of different forms of use. The data consist of three types, fieldwork in the area, interviews with representatives of the local authorities and focus group interviews with local inhabitants, business actors and civil organisations. The field material includes a mapping of the background of the preservation plans, the local discourses, the actors involved and their motivations. The fieldwork includes guided walks in the preserved area with a representative of the local conservation authorities. Focus group interviews were conducted with locals living in the area. The overall fieldwork focus was on place, the preserved area and its relationship to the city or town as a whole: (1) how the site was presented, particularly the representations of built heritage, (2) how the place identity was expressed, including references to the heritage and historic environments, and (3) how the people express the values of the built heritage. Place qualities were an additional focus, both those that could be observed by any visitor and those experienced by residents. Local organisations and business actors were interviewed about their experience of doing business in areas with severe restrictions. The data also include a number of documents, such as preservation plans, other plans related to the area and other relevant documents and policy statements. The interviews with representatives of local authorities had their focus on the preservation plan and the planning process, the conflicts and the different interests involved. A second focus in these interviews was the management model of the area, as in most cases several years had passed since the plan had been adopted.

1

Bygningsloven av 18 Juni, 1965 (the Building Law, 18 June, 1965). The Amsterdam Declaration. Congress on the European Architectural Heritage, 1975. 2

3 The European Charter of the Architectural Heritage was adopted by the Council of Europe in 1975.

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Fig. 1. The location of old towns in Norway selected by the Norwegian Directorate for Cultural Heritage. (This map does not include all old towns in Norway. A complete list is not available. Of particular importance but omitted here are of course those listed on UNESCO’s World Heritage list, e.g. Bryggen in Bergen and Røros.)

Theoretical framework Opportunity spaces related to built cultural heritage might work as catalysts for revaluation and reimaging of place. The mobilisation of cultural resources for economic revitalisation is a central aspect of the cultural economy (Amin & Thrift, 2007; Power & Scott, 2004). In the cultural economy, identity, sense of place and local distinctiveness are key features of the competitive success of places (Murray, 2001). Heritage as representations of distinct and unique place characters may play an important role in place promotion. This part of the cultural economy represents a revival of traditionalism that seeks reconciliation with the past in terms of renewed interest in historic urban forms and the local cultural heritage (Urry, 1996a, 1996b). In analytically addressing how ‘opportunity space’ develops and becomes a management practice in heritage conservation, Patsy Healey and her discussion on governance transformations has been an inspiration. She links the actors involved in episodes of governance transformation with established governance processes: networks, stakeholders, discourses and practices (Healey, 2006). According to Healey, it is necessary to examine the ‘complex dynamic of actors and networks as they struggle over resource allocation, over regulatory practices and over framing ideas’ (Healey, 2006, p. 304). Following these lines of thought, a governance transformation can be identified whereby a new discursive frame appears and diffuses to a range of arenas with sufficient effect to

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shift significantly the way in which resources are allocated and regulatory tools formulated and used (Healey, 2006, p. 304, Coaffee & Healey, 2003). Building a new territorial arena of governance or a new mode of politics is likely to involve very challenging efforts in terms of mobilisation, discourse formation and diffusion, and of aligning old practices with new discourses. Healey emphasises the importance of innovations for such policies to succeed. She understands innovations in the form of new concepts that have to ‘jump boundaries and break through resistances, involving implicit and explicit struggles’ (Healey, 2006, p. 305). Healey also emphasises the power of mobilisation in these processes. To achieve transformative effects, governance innovations must move from explicit formation episodes to arenas of investment and regulatory practice. ‘Translated’ into the arena of built cultural heritage, innovation in the governance regimes of urban heritage has to provide room for a new discourse about conservation that fits in with a modern view of urban development. An initiative to conserve the area in the first place could mean new actors entering the scene with a new agenda, changing a discourse of, for instance, demolition into a discourse of preservation. Then there must be a governance process in which the mobilisation of protest against these plans can occur, first of all through the involvement of the local inhabitants in a preservation project and in the building of networks and coalitions at different levels of governance. Conservation has to be ‘reinvented’, framed in a new way and, to endure, it also has to ‘become institutionalised in the routines of governance practices’ (Healey, 2006, p. 305). Initiatives will have to find resonances with cultural assumptions to have any capacity to be seen as legitimate. Preservation has consequences, for the local population, for homeowners, for businesses and others. Without their support, a preservation policy will probably not be implemented. The building of networks and coalitions between different interests and parties is also part of this process of anchoring the project within vital sub-groups, including local political leaders. Institutionalisation in this context is related to the practices and routines of management of the preservation plan. Here the practices concerned with institutionalisation can be found; in this context related to the practices and routines of management of the preservation plan. If plans are not sufficient, what should replace or supplement them? How are these practices of preservation developed and how are they organised? Our hypothesis is that to succeed in this contested landscape of discourses of modernisation and transformation, policies and practices need to be flexible in order to meet different needs, for instance, with respect to regeneration to adapt to modern standards of living, and they need to be diverse so as to be able to address the different forms of challenges that face such areas. They also need to be facilitative in the sense that rules are easy to understand, and sincere in the sense that one set of rules and regulations is legitimate and, when introduced, practised as a general rule without exception. The case studies Innovation and institutionalisation of preservation practices: built heritage management in Risør Located in the tourist hub of the southern Norwegian coastline, Risør is a main seaside attraction in this region. Although Risør is but one of many so-called ‘white towns’4 in the region, it is a unique representation of a preserved city centre with white wooden buildings and narrow streets fronting the sea. Most of the town was 4 ‘White towns’ is a characterisation of the many coastal towns, particularly in the southern part of Norway, comprised of wooden houses all painted white which give these towns their particular character.

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rebuilt after a fire in 1861, which is the main reason for its consistent expression. Its brand reflects this with a logo stating ‘The beautiful white town at Skagerak’. This image, although perhaps obvious today, was not so obvious 30 years ago and it has been a long struggle to build up the institutions and practices that today are taken more or less for granted. The first initiative to preserve the whole city centre was not taken by the municipality itself, but through a committee set up in 1971, initiated by the cultural authorities at the national level, to stimulate the culture sector in Risør. One of the basic ideas that this ‘Risør committee’ produced was the cultural preservation of the old town. To follow up on this idea a process involving a whole range of actors and governance agencies was initiated, both at regional and at national levels, particularly the regional heritage authorities, the Directorate for Cultural Heritage and the Arts Council Norway, who financed parts of the refurbishment process. Their work as a committee stimulated the renovation of old buildings, organised training for artisans in traditional building techniques, and provided information to the public and general guidance on restoration principles. When this committee finished its work in 1983, the discourse for Risør had changed. For most citizens the old town had no heritage value at this point. The committee had succeeded in constructing and reframing the discourse about the asset of the town: its unique structure of preserved wooden houses. The institutionalisation of these ideas, however, was in the hands of the municipality. The municipal planning process that succeeded the Risør committee lasted more than 10 years, from 1984 until 1995, ending in a preservation plan that represented a joint agreement after years of political discussions and dialogues involving the citizens in the planning process. The long process was necessary to anchor the ideas of preservation of the whole town. The head of the planning department describes the process in this way: ‘A particular aspect of the planning process was its anchorage in the political parties. The planning process was organised in five different committees with 50 politicians taking part over a long period of time, and the key to this anchorage has been the knowledge that was developed and shared in the process.’5 Today, this agreement still works, supplemented with other forms of regulation and practices to support the conservation plan, which can be described as flexible, diverse and facilitative. Anchorage in civil society has been even more important, as the head of the planning department emphasised: ‘preservation is all about details; therefore, you must have the citizens with you’.6 Consequently, rules and regulations have been supported by economic incentives and architectural guidance. Besides the plan itself, different forms of instruction manuals have been worked out, for instance a fire plan, some visionary documents, illustrations and guiding leaflets to homeowners on how restoration can be done. A particular ‘residency requirement policy’ is also part of the regulations. This policy means that homeowners in the old town are obliged also to live there most of the year, so as to avoid the houses being transformed into summer cottages and the area becoming a tourist hub only occupied during the summer months, which in these areas is a form of gentrification. Flexibility is first of all demonstrated by the acceptance of modern adaptations of the interior of the houses, such as bathrooms, the removal of internal walls and other adjustments to render the houses more compatible with modern living standards. The planning and building authorities in the municipal organisation are the most important actors behind these regulations or at 5 6

Interview conducted May, 2009. Interview with head of planning administration.

least their continuity in institutionalised forms. They have been working continuously with these issues for many years, learning step by step, and through their efforts have developed broad competence on these issues. A fruitful working relationship with the heritage management authorities, at both the county and central levels, has also been accomplished. These rules and regulations are well institutionalised in the management of the heritage area. This case of heritage conservation represents an example of the contingencies that sometimes play a role in preservation (Ashworth & Tunbridge, 2000, p. 22), in this case the municipality’s poor economy in the 1970s, caused by a decline in the shipping industry, with huge reductions in tax income. As a consequence, it had no financial muscle to rebuild and modernise the town itself. The initiative and the money to preserve the old town came from external bodies. From a deteriorated, former industrial town, Risør is today identifiable as a cultural town, where the buildings and the shape of the old town are its most important assets. The city’s image, promoted as beautiful, is directly related to the urban heritage, the ‘White Town of Skagerak’. Today the old town operates as a stage for cultural events all year round, whereby the wooden town, the white houses and the public spaces add an ambiance to these events that contributes to their success. Arts festivals, classical music festivals and a festival for wooden boats are the most important, in addition to summer tourism. The success illustrated in this case study is therefore also linked to the fact that the municipality managed to succeed in conserving the old town, thereby strengthening its image and identity. Today, no one questions this image as it has proven its value as a framework for a new economic base for the town. Most industries within the visitor and experience economy are linked to this image and depend on the preservation of the old town. According to the informants, this image is what brings people and money to the town, so the discourse that rules the preservation project today is that of the cultural economy. The innovative museum: the Sjøgata partnership in Mosjøen Located at the mouth of the river Vefsna in the town of Mosjøen in Nordland county, the street known as ‘Sjøgata’ is a representation of a 200-year-old coastal fishing-farming culture that developed into an area of trade and urban formation in the latter part of the 18th century (Bye, 2010, p. 518). The settlement structure, consisting of wooden storage buildings, boathouses, dwellings, shops and workshops, is today partly reconstructed and partly restored to its original design in 1860–1900, although some buildings date back to the 17th century. Sjøgata was upgraded to the status of a town street in 1865, when Mosjøen was assigned the status of a trading post. The preservation initiative is, in this case, an example of grass-roots actions by local citizens, supported by individual actors from the Directorate for Cultural Heritage, the Arts Council Norway and architects from the School of Architecture in Trondheim. The initiative started as a struggle at the end of the 1970s between academics and intellectuals inspired by the left green movement on one side, and the political labour majority in the municipality on the other. Most of these intellectuals had moved back to Mosjøen after years of university studies. By this time the area in question was about to be demolished and transformed into parking space; it had no value to most of the community as it contained only old derelict buildings which represented the slum quarter of the town. Thanks to local intellectual campaigners with strong support from the National Board of Antiquities, the decision to demolish the area was abandoned by the local council with the smallest possible majority vote on 1 February 1980. The activists behind the preservation initiative represented a powerful and competent alliance of academics, preservation

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experts and nostalgic locals, a group of people with access both to funding opportunities and to the necessary competence in preservation practices. They had the capacity to act and mobilise support from powerful actors outside the formal political institutions. Through an organisation called the Board of the Sjøgata Project, established in 1979, these actors exerted contextual pressure on the political leaders and the community. This contributed to the opening of ‘a moment of opportunity’ (Healey, 2006, p. 307) for a new discourse to be introduced. Among those involved was one of the members representing the National Board of Antiquities. His personal involvement led him to buy one of the houses to prevent it from being demolished. Even representatives of bureaucracy became activists in order to save the area from demolition. An association of volunteers and professionals was set up to support the restoration of one of the old warehouses. This was the first building to be reconstructed and was so successful that it became the model for the restoration of the rest of the area. This process mobilised support both from locals and from external experts, for instance in old building techniques, a mobilisation that is still important today, largely as a social network supporting and arranging activities for the shareholders and inhabitants of the area, as most of the restoration work has been completed. Beginning in the late 1970s, the manager of the local museum became the strategic coordinator of the process for most of the subsequent years. The museum managed to involve and mobilise a number of different networks in the project, including business interests. Several limited companies and foundations have been set up in the preserved area, all sharing the maintenance of the built cultural heritage as their common ground. Two of these companies are related to buildings that have particular importance for the area and are organised through collective ownership and management. They both have multiple purposes, such as running a café, letting dwellings, running an antiquarian bookshop, organising cultural activities and so forth. The museum has a coordinating role as it participates in all the partnerships. As a consequence of its legitimacy and competence in terms of preservation, the museum is actively consulted on planning and building regulations and it has also been given the power to formulate the municipal regulation principles for the area. It acts as the coordinator in a network of formal and informal partnerships involved in different aspects of giving life to the street, such as cultural events and festivals. The museum has also been a driving force in stimulating commercial activities in the area such as small shops, cafes, arts and crafts. A number of new businesses have been established and a business association has been set up to organise the commercial actors in the street. Several of the buildings are owned by the municipality and rented out either as residential housing or as accommodation for tourists. No families with children live in the area today. In one sense, this may illustrate a form of gentrification. On the other hand, the number of residents during the ‘slum’ period was not more than a handful,7 so in fact more people inhabit the area today than in the 1960s. Together, these actors were able to change the discourse about Sjøgata, from describing the area as a slum, with no value except to the few who still lived there, to becoming an asset, a part of the town to be proud of. This did not happen overnight, but took several years. It was a slow process as the street was restored building by building, gradually adding value and quality to the place. Slowly a new Sjøgata took shape. Through these processes and the shared vision of restoring the street, a cultural shift took place, a shift that has led to the institutionalisation of rules and norms about preservation and how this can be undertaken for the benefit of both res-

7

Exact statistical data on the number of inhabitants in the street do not exist. The estimated number of inhabitants today is around 70.

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idents and wider society. Sjøgata is an example of collaborative planning for social and physical regeneration, recalling the Amsterdam Charter’s call for integrated conservation (Bye, 2010, p. 621). Today the discourse about Sjøgata is about its historic value, illustrated for instance by a documentary produced by the British Broadcasting Company (BBC) in 2010 about this process, called ‘Heroes of Sjøgata’.8 Today, the street is completely restored, and has again become an asset to the town. Cultural events have been moved from the town square in the new part of the town to Sjøgata, and it has also become a tourist destination. Sjøgata is again the main street in the town. This development, however, is not without irony, according to the museum director: ‘It may seem doubly ironic that it is, in fact, tourism, which currently provides us with the resources to illustrate Mosjøen’s recent history in a more reflective way. Tourists allegedly prefer staged folklore, i.e. mock historical innocence to genuine folklore containing all the ambiguities and discords involved’.9 The cultural economy is definitely important in this case, but is not free of flaws and dilemmas. Sjøgata represents a form of ‘heritagisation’, ‘the attractive representation of the past through a heritage-look suitable for visual consumption’ (Urry, 1996a, 1996b). Mixed management of the old town of Stavanger As the capital of Rogaland county and a centre for the petroleum industry in Norway, Stavanger represents a different case from the two described above because of its size and its national importance as Norway’s fourth largest city. Stavanger is a vibrant and in many ways an international city with a particular urban ‘pulse’. The old town of Stavanger, locally called ‘Straen’, located on the west side of Vågen, the inner harbour, is a unique building structure representing the largest surviving wooden house settlement in northern Europe (Næss, 1998). It is a beautiful area with a total of 160 small wooden houses and cobbled streets. Most of the buildings were built around 1840. Although it is still a residential area, it has a museum-like atmosphere, at least in the eyes of the many tourists visiting the area in the summer months, who are surprised when they find that the houses are populated by real people! The heritage style in Old Stavanger could probably be characterised as picturesque, stressing the ‘authenticity’ of individual buildings, the building structure as a whole and the streets and public spaces. The regulations are primarily in the hands of the public administration. The Directorate of Urban Preservation (Byantikvar) is integrated into the planning department and therefore in a greater strategic position than in many other municipalities. As the head of the planning administration states: ‘The Old Town is a priority area politically’. The idea of preserving the old town was initiated as early as the 1950s, before national legislation to frame such a preservation plan existed. The first Planning and Building Act was implemented in 1965. The initiative was taken by a professional activist, Einar Hedin, who later became the first Director of Urban Preservation in Stavanger and an entrepreneur in this respect. His vision was to preserve not only the buildings, but also everyday life. In his own words: ‘. . .the houses should serve everyday life, as housing, shops and workshops.. . .Framed by modern buildings these funny small houses and winding streets will become stars in the town, a landmark of prestige for foreigners and a peaceful place for all

8 http://www.helgeland-arbeiderblad.no/nyheter/article4846994.ece?service= print. 9 Interview with the Director of the Museum, May 2009.

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Table 1 Summary of the innovative governance processes in Mosjøen, Risør and Stavanger. Dimensions

Criteria

Mosjøen

Risør

Stavanger

Networks and coalitions

Connections made to residents in many situations Connection made to significant mainstream arenas and networks

Several connections and networks built to Heritage Authorities, Art Council, Board of Antiquities and School of Architecture constituting ‘the Board of Sjøgata’

Inclusive and open planning processes involving many inhabitants

A professional administration in tight collaboration with local civil committee

Inclusive selection of who gets involved

Local actions against demolition inspired by the ‘green movement’ Civil responsibility in partnership models in the preservation and maintenance of important buildings

Stakeholder selection processes

Connections and networks build to heritage authorities both an the county and central level

A cultural committee established to develop the cultural sector

Public expertise as ‘foot-soldier’ fronting preservation idea

Inclusive and long lasting planning process Discourses: framing issues, problems, solutions, interests

Strong daily life emphasis and diverse experiences of place

Restoration of single buildings became a model of how the area could be transformed and changed the discourse from seeing the area as a slum towards understanding of the area as an attractive urban heritage district

A growing cultural economy changed the local discourse; Built heritage became a necessary scenery for the festivals and other cultural activities

‘Heritagisation’ and identity building upon the idea of ‘‘Old Stavanger’’

Flexibility combined with professional counselling by the Museum in collaboration with the municipal planning and building administration

Flexible, diverse and facilitative conservation plan combined with political agreement on rules and regulations

Professional counselling based on dialogues between the local committee, the director of urban preservation and inhabitants

The Museum acts as a broker and a consultant in issues of conflicts about restoration

Supplementary tools developed to support the plan

Distributive issues/conflicts over priorities recognised Practices, routines and repertoires for acting

Accessible, diverse Facilitative, transparent, Sincere, innovative

citizens who long to experience the atmosphere of the time of the White Sails’.10 The nostalgia expressed here has, to some extent, been realised. The atmosphere is what brings thousands of tourists to these streets every day during the summer months. Such nostalgia is still part of the ongoing discourse about how to preserve the area, expressed in a debate about what can be called decoration. Whereas the preservation association, ‘Old Stavanger’, emphasises restraint in, for instance, floral decorations on the exterior of the houses and in the street, the local neighbourhood association promotes a more excessive style of decoration. The management model is a model whereby the Director of Urban Preservation has the administrative responsibility in close collaboration with the ‘Old Stavanger’ Association, given consultatory power on issues related to conservation in the area. This association was established in the 1950s by the first Director of Urban Preservation. Members of the board were individuals or organisations with particular competence or interest in the conservation of the area. Such associations have managed to create a closer relationship between the ‘experts’ and the ‘grassroots’. Formally, they possess no decision-making power, but in this case they control minor economic resources for maintenance purposes and architectural assistance. Their role is to increase competence and knowledge in cultural heritage, and also to relieve the public authorities of such issues. The regulations in the old town are quite restrictive. No changes in the facades are allowed, and the association functions both as a watchdog and as an adviser for the inhabitants in the area. Old Stavanger is a tourist hub, popular particularly among the passengers of the many cruise ships visiting 10

Article by C. Søiland in the Yearbook of the Norwegian Heritage Association, 1956.

Stavanger during the summer months. A combination of strong local identity, pride, strong civic associations supporting the formal policies and a city administration promoting heritage is the main explanation of its successful preservation. Discussion Table 1 below sums up the findings and addresses the conceptual tools developed in the previous section. The three case studies tell quite different stories of the actors involved, the actions taken that initiated the preservation plan and the processes of developing management regimes. Spaces of opportunity have not been released by growth in the cultural economy only. The findings from this study indicate that ideas other than place promotion and nostalgia have fed the processes towards preservation. These are partly rooted in identity (Risør, Stavanger), partly in the ‘green movement’ (Mosjøen) and partly in heritage professionals in powerful positions (Stavanger). Mobilisation of new actors and resources has been important in the two smaller towns. A broad-based range of stakeholders varying with the local context and particularities of the cultural heritage environment has been involved. In some cases such cooperation develops from grassroots initiatives, for instance in Mosjøen; in others, from quite unorthodox actions taken by public agency actors, for instance in the Stavanger case. The discourses that have framed the preservation policies are also different in the three cases. Urban preservation as part of an economic discourse is generally executed in coalition with local commercial interests. This was the case in Risør. In Old Stavanger, the discourse was related to preserving the character of a unique part of urban history, and might be seen as an early example of heritagisation (Urry, 1996a, 1996b). Economic interests here were

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added in a much later phase, and then related to the growth in the number of tourists visiting the city in the 1980s onwards. Such interests often discount or are unaware of the cultural, social or political justifications that were relevant when these areas were legislated as heritage, decades ago in many cases. In Mosjøen, economic issues have not been central to the discourse in any phase of the process. Originally, the discourse was related to a struggle between urban regeneration and renewal of a slum area versus rescuing the old town from demolition. The revaluing of the area on a broader basis has been a slow process, linked both to the results of the restoration project that took many years to accomplish and the last decade enhanced by increasing cultural activity in the area. The motives for preservation may therefore reinforce or in some cases even contradict each other. The preservation practices and routines that have been developed to maintain the area have their own history; they have developed over many years, influenced by the local context and the preservation discourse of the time. No standard model has been adopted. Flexible, experimental and situated options developed locally seem to be the pattern. What they have in common is their relative success in active conservation based on a combination of supplementary tools, including a variety of different forms of cogovernance. Some of these management arrangements could be described as complex collaborative governance models involving actors from the public, private and civil sectors and several levels of authority. Some of these collaborative forms take the form of partnerships, as in Mosjøen. The most institutionalised are formalised through a consultative body or committee, as in the case of Old Stavanger. The flexible approach towards homeowners’ quest for modernisation also explains why conflicts between local citizens and heritage officials have been avoided. The collaborative, inclusive and long-lasting planning processes in several of the cases made it possible to anchor the goals and norms for preservation in the population. Such anchoring also represents immunity towards rapid change and modernistic development strategies that pop up from time to time in order to transform the image of a place. Resources and initiatives from private, voluntary, and non-profit organisations, as well as the public sector, can be combined in innovative ways to reflect the ethos and collective needs of urban areas. Conclusion The cases discussed indicate that several partly conflicting motives for preservation seem to operate at the same time or at least overlap over time in the same location. Economic arguments, such as those related to the cultural economy and commodification of heritage, have typically been added at a later phase, after, for instance, a period of activity in terms of the preservation movement and public intervention through a conservation plan. There are also contingencies involved, for instance particular events at a particular place, and involvement of both national actors and national discourses with ‘trickle-down’ effects to the local community. Strong civil societies supported by professionals have been powerful actors in the development and institutionalisation of the management regimes. Voluntary and civil actors in governance arrangements seem to play a distinctive role, partly as a ‘watchdog’ and partly as a ‘local expert’, as many of the participants were quite competent in terms of heritage issues. Given that a formally approved preservation policy exists through a preservation plan, these groups play important roles in implementing the regulations.

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Without these groups, rules and regulations would have been more difficult to translate and understand by those affected. Their importance can be extended even beyond these practices. Any governance arrangement has to be legitimised. By making rules and regulations acceptable through their presence, counselling, and debate, they contributed strongly to legitimising the regulations for the inhabitants. The success of these collaborative arrangements fits in with and supports the conservation strategy ‘conservation through use’ which was broadly promoted in the 1970s. The rise of the cultural economy provides a partial explanation of the new interest in these heritage districts today, but it cannot explain either how the initiative to preserve the areas came about or how the models of governance were developed over many years to support and maintain the area. As illustrated in this paper, we need to pay attention to local actors and actions in order to complement our knowledge of cultural economy and its role in heritage preservation. Acknowledgements We would like to thank the editor and two anonymous referees for detailed and in-depth comments and suggestions for improving the paper. We also thank Arvid Viken for useful comments on a previous version of the paper. References Amin, A., & Thrift, N. (2007). Cultural economy and cities. Progress in Human Geography, 3(2), 143–161. Ashworth, G., & Tunbridge, J. E. (2000). The tourist-historic city. Retrospect and prospect of managing the Heritage City. London: Pergamon. Berg, A., & Kaul, S., et al. (1972). Trästader I Norden 1, Trebyene i Norge, (wooden towns in Norway). Arkitekturskolan: Stockholm. Bye, M. (2010). Histories of architectural conservation. Five case studies on the treatment of Norwegian vernacular heritage buildings circa 1920–1980. Doctoral thesis. NTNU: Trondheim. Coaffee, J., & Healey, P. (2003). My voice: My place: Tracking transformations in urban governance. Urban Studies, 40(10), 1979–1999. Gibson, C., & Kong, L. (2005). Cultural economy: A critical review. Progress in Human Geography, 29, 541–561. Gibson, L., & Pendlebury, J. (2009). Valuing historic environment. London: Ashgate. Healey, P. (2006). Transforming governance: Challenges of institutional adaptation and a new politics of space. European Planning Studies, 14(3), 299–320. Hirt, S. (2005). Towards postmodern urbanism? Evolution of planning in Cleveland, Ohio. Journal of Planning Education and Research, 25, 27–42. Kittang, D. (2006). Trebyen Trondheim – Forvitring og fornying, En studie av an byplandiskurs. (Trondheim, the wooden city – Disintegration and regeneration. A study of a city plan discourse). Doctoral thesis. Trondheim, NTNU. Kolbe, L. (2006). Urban destruction or preservation? Conservation movement and planning in twentieth-century Scandinavian capitals. In Javier Monclus & Manuel Guardia (Eds.), Culture, urbanism and planning (pp. 129–149). London: Ashgate. Landry, C. (2000). The creative city, a toolkit for urban innovations. London: Comedia. Murray, C. (2001). Making sense of place. New approaches to place marketing. UK: Comedia. Næss, H. E. (1998). Gamle stavanger. Stavanger: Foreningen Gamle Stavanger. Negussie, E. (2006). Implications of neo-liberalism for built heritage management: Institutional and ownership structures in Ireland and Sweden. Urban Studies, 43(10), 1803–1824. Nyseth, T., & Sognnæs, J. (2009). Godt fungerende bevaringsområder (Making heritage management work). Oslo/Tromsø: NIKU-Rapport. Olsson, K. (2010). Cultural heritage as a resource in place marketing. In M. Malkki & K. Schmith-Thomé (Eds.), Integrating aims. Built heritage in social and economic development (pp. 251–268). Espoo: Alto University, Centre for Urban and, Regional Studies. Pendlebury, J. (2009). Preservation in the age of consensus. London: Routledge. Power, D., & Scott, Allen J. (Eds.). (2004). Cultural industries and the production of culture. London: Routledge. Urry, J. (1996b). Consuming places. London: Routledge. Urry, J. (1996a). How societies remember the past. In Sharon MacDonald & Gordon Fyfe (Eds.), Theorizing museums. Oxford: Blackwell.