Historic
Preservation Tools: the Cutting Edge
Brattleboro, Vermont
May 11, 2001
Keynote Address by
Richard Moe, President, National Trust for Historic Preservation
Over the course of this conference you’ll be
discussing the need to develop and use effective tools for
putting preservation to work in the cities, towns and rural
areas of Vermont. It’s a very important topic, obviously, and
I’m certain you’ll leave here with plenty of new insights
and useful information.
That’s good - because preservationists are
going to need all the insight and information we can get in
order to meet the challenges that lie ahead of us in the coming
years. With the nation in good fiscal health, signs that decades
of decline in our cities may be coming to an end, and a new
generation of enlightened public officials and and savvy
developers at work in our communities, I believe we could be
standing on the edge of a new golden age for preservation.
But it won’t just happen. We have to make it
happen - and that will take the best efforts of all of us.
As a way to establish some context for
figuring out where we ought to go from here, consider how far we’ve
come in the past half-century:
Fifty years ago, preservationists spent most
of their time and energy fighting to hold on to landmarks
threatened with demolition. Today, old buildings are sometimes
still razed, but they’re no longer torn down as a matter of
course. Among preservationists, developers, architects and
public officials alike, rehabilitation and adaptive use are
widely regarded as viable - often preferable - alternatives to
demolition. I’m confident that such lost landmarks as the
Chicago Stock Exchange and New York’s Penn Station wouldn’t
be torn down today.
Fifty years ago, preservationists were focused
largely on saving individual buildings and clearly-identifiable,
homogeneous historic districts. Now we’re much more broadly
involved, confronting a wide range of challenges. We deal with
issues like community livability, sprawl and sustainable
development. We recognize the value of preserving historic
places - heritage corridors, multiple-resource areas and the
like - that are both more diverse and more diffuse.
Back in 1950, preservationists’ concerns
tended to end at the boundaries of the “old part of town.”
Nowadays we take a much more holistic approach. We recognize
that what happens in the countryside and the suburbs has a
direct bearing on the fate of older areas.
In the 1950s, preservationists didn’t have
many statistics to back up their vague notions about
preservation’s economic benefits. Today we can call upon a
growing body of evidence to document the impact of heritage
tourism, the positive effect of historic designation on property
values, the relative rate of job creation in historic rehab
projects vs. new construction, and so on.
A half-century ago, preservation wasn’t seen
as a tool for community revitalization. Now, with decades of
success through the Main Street program, the impact of the
Historic Rehab Tax Credit and the widespread community benefits
generated by ISTEA and other programs, we have firsthand
knowledge of the effectiveness of preservation in bringing new
economic vitality to residential and commercial neighborhoods.
Finally, fifty years ago, preservation was
still working largely in the shadows, its effects confined to a
relative handful of communities. Today, in what may be the most
significant change of all, the effect of preservation is visible
everywhere. From one end of America to another, there is hardly
a community - large or small - where houses and storefronts
haven’t been “fixed up” with pride, where underused or
obsolete buildings haven’t been put to new and sometimes
innovative uses, where historic resources haven’t been
inventoried and protected in some way, where historic sites aren’t
heavily marketed to attract tourists. The impact of preservation
can be seen almost everywhere, and it has made a clear
difference in both the appearance and the quality of life in
countless communities.
Looking back over the past half-century, I
believe it’s fair to say that Americans have undergone a
fundamental change of heart.
It started in the 1960s and 70s, the heyday of
Urban Renewal and Interstate Highway construction. We lost
thousands of historic buildings and neighborhoods during those
decades, but we gained something in the process: a new attitude
toward the past. We began to see our heritage as more than
something to be put on display behind velvet ropes. We began to
realize that we could use it, that we could make our past
a living part of our present. And something else, perhaps even
more important: We began to realize, more strongly than ever
before, how much we needed the physical evidence of our
past - needed it close at hand where we could live with it,
touch it, learn from it.
In the years since that change of heart began,
our movement has made, and is continuing to make, a real
difference. But while we honor the men and women whose vision
and determination have brought us this far, while we recall the
milestones that mark our progress over the past decades, we must
keep one all-important fact in mind: Our job is by no means
done.
Perhaps the most succinct statement on the
past and future of preservation in America can be found in an
essay by Arthur Ziegler of Pittsburgh, who received the National
Trust’s Crown and shield Award in 1993. He wrote: “Yes, we
preservationists have come a long way. No, we have not by any
means arrived.”
So where do we go from here? What must we do
in order to “arrive”?
The challenges ahead are many and varied, and
they will doubtless include some that we can’t foresee today.
We will have to be adaptable and flexible - as we always have
been - in order to deal effectively with new issues as they
arise. But whatever else happens, I believe we must work
especially hard to do four things in the coming years:
First, we must broaden our programs and
membership to reflect more accurately the diversity of America.
If we’re to gain and maintain credibility as
a relevant force in contemporary life, we must expand our
preservation vision to include the full range of cultures and
historic resources that define the American experience.
Recent census figures confirm the fact that
today’s Americans come from all corners of the globe, bringing
traditions and means of artistic expression that enliven and
enrich our communities in countless ways. A major factor in this
country’s greatness is its success in the experiment of making
a nation of immigrants, building a society that attempts to make
unity out of variety. Preservation offers us a means of
celebrating that variety and of ensuring that we don't erase the
marks left on our national landscape by the many peoples who
have helped shape it.
But multiculturalism has another, more
disturbing side. As America becomes more culturally diverse, we
face new challenges in simply knowing who we are as
Americans--or even defining exactly what an “American” is.
In a situation such as this, an understanding of our common
history is an important part of the glue that binds us together
as a nation, that keeps our society from cracking apart into
dozens of separate pieces.
Historian Arthur Schlesinger has said that
America suffers today from “too much pluribus and not
enough unum.” This statement summarizes the challenge
we face: to identify, safeguard and interpret those elements of
our heritage that help to give us a sense of community. It is
imperative that we meet this challenge effectively. If we fail
to do so, the further fragmentation of our society will put the
very idea of America at risk.
We must develop and strengthen preservation
programs that increase our understanding of our shared history.
But merely broadening our programmatic vision won’t have much
meaning if we don’t broaden our membership as well. A simple
look around at almost any preservation gathering offers
convincing proof that our membership doesn’t sufficiently
reflect America’s diversity. We must change that. We must find
ways to involve all sectors of American society in our work -
because it isn’t “our” work at all. What we do - saving
historic places and using preservation to revitalize communities
- we do for everyone.
America’s history belongs to all Americans,
not just to the wealthy or the white or the native-born, not
just to those who call themselves preservationists, but to all
of us. We share a heritage that is all-embracing, and we must
work to build a movement that is all-embracing as well.
Second, we must continue to build a stronger,
more cohesive preservation movement.
We all know that the real work of preservation
is done at the grassroots level - and we also know that the
ultimate success of our movement depends on the strength and
effectiveness of the preservation groups at work in the cities,
towns, neighborhoods and rural areas where we live. This fact
led the National Trust in 1993 to launch an initiative designed
to equip statewide preservation organizations with the skills
and tools they need to do their jobs better. I believe it’s
one of the most important commitments the Trust has ever made -
and it’s working. When the program began, there were 17
statewides with fulltime professional staff; today there are 38.
Vermont is enormously fortunate to have a
statewide organization of the caliber of the Preservation Trust.
Your growth and effectiveness are models for other statewides.
Programs such as your Country Store Initiative are emblematic of
your ability to develop targeted efforts to deal with issues
unique to Vermont, and the “circuit rider” partnership you’ve
developed with the National Trust’s Northeast Office is an
excellent model for maximizing staff presence in the state. In
short, what’s happening here in Vermont represents the future
of preservation, and our goal must be to replicate your success
in every state in the nation.
Strengthening statewide organizations is just
the beginning. National and statewide organizations must work
together to provide meaningful, timely, hands-on assistance to
projects and organizations at the local level, including those
organizations that are entrusted with the preservation and
management of historic sites.
In short, our goal should be the creation of a
comprehensive network of organizations at the local, state and
national levels, each one strong enough to work independently,
mature enough to recognize the value of partnerships with other
organizations and public agencies, effective and visionary
enough to make preservation a vital force for improving the
quality of life for everyone. It’s an ambitious goal - but it’s
an achievable one. Only when we reach it can we expect to
realize preservation’s full potential as a force for positive
change at every level of American society.
Third, we must intensify our efforts to manage
sprawl and promote policies and practices that foster smart
growth and sustainable development.
Preservation is in the business of saving
irreplaceable places and the quality of life they support, and
sprawl destroys both. As poorly-planned, auto-oriented
development spreads further and further out from urban centers,
it drains the economic and social life out of older communities
where historic buildings and neighborhoods are concentrated,
leaving them blighted by deterioration, poverty and
disinvestment. Livable neighborhoods are destroyed by the demand
for ever-wider roads and ever-bigger parking lots. Historic
landmarks get demolished and carted off to the landfill. Our
sense of community, stability and continuity is gradually
eroded. Everyplace winds up looking like Noplace.
That’s what sprawl does, and that’s why
preservationists must continue to lead the fight against it.
Vermont has been in the forefront of that fight for many years.
In fact, the appearance of the entire state of Vermont on the
National Trust’s “11 Most Endangered” list in 1993 was a
major factor in shaping the national debate on the issue. Almost
a decade later, the debate continues - a debate over land-use,
development and public-investment policies that are
shortsighted, fiscally irresponsible and ultimately destructive.
To replace policies and practices that wreck
communities, we must advocate policies and practices that
recycle existing buildings and land whenever possible; that
maintain local community character and identity; that preserve
farms, forests, scenic vistas and environmentally sensitive
areas; that provide incentives for reinvestment that will
revitalize historic downtowns and residential neighborhoods;
that encourage wise use of vacant or underused land in existing
cities with new development that blends in with its
surroundings; that create well-designed new communities in
places that can be served efficiently; that promote a sense of
community and protect the environment for future generations.
Some may think it odd that this list includes
several references to the design and development of new
communities. But in addition to protecting the landmarks that
are our legacy from the past, we must also give our best efforts
to ensure that the new buildings and communities we produce will
be thought worthy of preservation by generations to come. We
have a responsibility to ensure that our own legacy to the
future includes communities that combine the best of
contemporary architecture and technology with a healthy respect
for the architectural achievements of those who came before us.
Encouraging and supporting good contemporary design is an
essential element in the fight for livable communities, and
organizations like the Preservation Trust can and should play a
significant role in it.
The fight against urban renewal in the 1960s
was a catalytic event in the growth of the preservation
movement. For a whole generation of preservationists, it was the
crucible in which their theories and convictions were tested and
refined. In reflecting on the legacy of that time, it’s worth
recalling an extraordinary statement by John Kenneth Galbraith
in 1980:
The preservation movement has one great
curiosity. There is never retrospective controversy or
regret. Preservationists are the only people in the world
who are invariably confirmed in their wisdom after the fact.
Preservationists of several decades ago were
right about urban renewal. And by speaking out against it, they
ultimately helped make important changes in government policy as
it affected the preservation of our heritage. I believe that
sprawl is to us what urban renewal was to an earlier generation.
I believe, too, that we can accomplish what our predecessors
did: We can change things. We can make a difference.
Finally, we must work harder to inculcate
preservation as an ethic - a value - that is understood and
embraced by all Americans.
Today’s environmental movement began with a
small band of men and women who launched a crusade to change the
way Americans view and treat the natural environment. It worked.
Today almost all of us, whether we acknowledge it or not, see
ourselves as environmentalists. We’ve accepted responsibility
for wise stewardship of the natural environment because we know
it’s in our own best interest to do so.
By contrast, despite our success in bringing
new vitality to cities and towns all over the country, too many
people still regard preservation as largely irrelevant to their
own daily lives. Our job is to change that attitude.
At the first National Preservation Conference
I attended after becoming president of the Trust, one of the
keynote speakers was Bertha Gilkey, a St. Louis activist who has
won a reputation for organizing low-income residents to demand -
and get - improvements in their community. Having listened to
several other speakers, she began her remarks with these words:
“I just learned something surprising. I’m a preservationist,
but I never knew it before.”
That sentiment holds true for millions of
people who think the label “preservationist” doesn’t apply
to them - people who are concerned about the rootlessness and
the erosion of community that threaten our society, who yearn
for a connection with something real and meaningful, who merely
want communities that work, that are safe, attractive and truly
livable. These people are preservationists. They just don’t
realize it.
Our challenge is to help them understand that
in saving and enhancing historic buildings and neighborhoods, in
advocating land-use and development policies that knit
communities together instead of tearing them apart, preservation
benefits everyone - not just members of historical
societies and preservation organizations. Our goal should be
nothing less than to make historic preservation a part of the
mainstream American consciousness, to incorporate preservation
values into the national ethic.
To reach this goal, we must work harder than
ever to develop a clear and concise message to help people
understand how the loss of their heritage affects them and why
preservation is important. We must develop new means of
spreading our message through school curricula at all levels and
in every public forum available to us. We must identify and
enlist new partners in the corporate and philanthropic worlds.
We must not shy away from taking strong positions on issues that
matter to us, not only to save threatened landmarks but also to
gain the attention we need to rally people to our cause. In
short, we must commit ourselves to a national crusade to ensure
that future generations will treasure our historic built
environment just as they value clean air and water.
It is an enormous task, but I believe it can
be done - if not fully by us, then by our successors, who will
be wiser, more experienced and better equipped to see it
through. One of the great things about the preservation movement
is its willingness to broaden its vision, to tackle new issues
and find ways to deal with them. We’ve done it before. We have
to do it now. Failing to do so would mean we’d have to accept
the unacceptable: the disappearance of the irreplaceable.
I look forward to something very different.
I look forward to the day when all Americans
will want to save the best of the past because they realize it
enriches the texture, character and livability of our
communities.
I look forward to the day when all Americans
will work to preserve the marvelous diversity of our heritage
because it represents the full depth and diversity of the
American experience.
I look forward to the day when all Americans
will treasure the tangible evidence of our shared history
because they know it helps us figure out where we’re going by
telling us how we arrived at where we are now.
I’m confident that with our resolve, that
day will come. I’m confident, too, that in working toward that
day, our efforts at the National Trust, at the Preservation
Trust of Vermont, and in other organizations all over the
country will be worthy of those who went before us and who
brought us this far.