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Sport biographies and autobiographies are popular among the general public and a prominent feature of the sport sections of Australian bookshops and libraries. This chapter reflects on the popularity of this genre, and particularly on the... more
Sport biographies and autobiographies are popular among the general public and a prominent feature of the sport sections of Australian bookshops and libraries. This chapter reflects on the popularity of this genre, and particularly on the overarching messages that are communicated through the variety of, and display methods for, these books in such spaces. Drawing upon our professional experience, academic discourse on library management and book publishing, and data taken from an informal survey of bookshops and libraries in Brisbane (Queensland, Australia), we consider how, why, and what the composition of sport shelves represent in terms of sport within society today. The continued obfuscation of women athletes is noted, as are some of the broader commercial and institutional pressures that impact the ways in which bookshops and libraries operate. We conclude this chapter by contemplating the agency that book consumers might exercise over bookshelves, particularly via social media hashtags such as #sportshelfie.
The Old and New Towns of Edinburgh have long been a popular destination, but the sense of uncontrollable inundation by visitors is a phenomenon of recent decades. While many have claimed the tourist boom is positive and to be further... more
The Old and New Towns of Edinburgh have long been a popular destination, but the sense of uncontrollable inundation by visitors is a phenomenon of recent decades. While many have claimed the tourist boom is positive and to be further encouraged, residents have decried the loss of their city’s soul. The debate about ‘over-tourism’ in Edinburgh has become a common topic in the local press: the pro-tourism side argues that the city is a living, evolving entity that cannot be locked in a museum case, while the anti-tourism campaigners allege that Edinburgh is quickly falling victim to ‘Disneyfication’.
This threat of a loss of ‘authenticity’ is particularly important in the context of
Edinburgh’s historic built landscape, as the Old and New Towns precincts have been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1995. They were listed because of the global significance of ‘a remarkable blend of the two urban phenomena: the organic medieval growth and 18th and 19th century town planning’ (UNESCO, 1995). Indeed, Edinburgh’s distinct townscape and architectural appearance is a significant factor in its tourism success: millions visit each year to see Edinburgh Castle, the medieval and 18th century tenements of the Royal Mile, and the Classical Revival New Town. The conservation of existing structures and the introduction of new architecture is, in theory, strictly controlled to maintain heritage values. In practice, however, there have been numerous examples of developments that have challenged Edinburgh’s architectural status quo. This paper will explore two recent examples of contemporary architecture in hotel developments within Edinburgh’s historic centre that have attracted a range of reactions from the public and press. In doing so, the increasingly irreconcilable needs and outcomes of tourism, community management, urban planning, architectural design, and heritage conservation will be highlighted.
In recent years, digital heritage has emerged as an important new field of research and practice, with an implicit ambition to record, conserve and even reconstruct culturally significant sites and artefacts threatened by war, climate... more
In recent years, digital heritage has emerged as an important new field of research and practice, with an implicit ambition to record, conserve and even reconstruct culturally significant sites and artefacts threatened by war, climate change, natural disasters, development and neglect. Digital heritage initiatives have been enthusiastically promoted and adopted by government bodies, institutions and philanthropic organisations from around the world. Despite its allure, the application and utility of preserving, managing and reproducing built heritage via digital technology remains largely untested, and carries with it risks that may ultimately undermine the practice altogether. Drawing from recent examples such as the Institute of Digital Archaeology (IDA)’s replica Palmyra Arch, and Factum Arte’s facsimile of Tutankhamen’s Tomb, this paper identifies some of the particular challenges raised by the physical replication of heritage using digital technologies. Issues such as the quali...
Taking a global and multidisciplinary approach, The SAGE International Encyclopedia of Travel and Tourism brings together a team of international scholars to examine the travel and tourism industry, which is expected to grow at an annual... more
Taking a global and multidisciplinary approach, The SAGE International Encyclopedia of Travel and Tourism brings together a team of international scholars to examine the travel and tourism industry, which is expected to grow at an annual rate of four percent for the next decade. In more than 500 entries spanning four comprehensive volumes, the Encyclopedia examines the business of tourism around the world paying particular attention to the social, economic, environmental, and policy issues at play. The book examines global, regional, national, and local issues including transportation, infrastructure, the environment, and business promotion. By looking at travel trends and countries large and small, the Encyclopedia analyses a wide variety of challenges and opportunities facing the industry. In taking a comprehensive and global approach, the Encyclopedia approaches the field of travel and tourism through the numerous disciplines it reaches, including the traditional tourism administ...
On April 25th 2015, Australian politicians and invited guests attended a memorial service at the newly completed Australia Memorial in Wellington, New Zealand. This architectural installation symbolising the ANZAC (Australia & New... more
On April 25th 2015, Australian politicians and invited guests attended a memorial service at the newly completed Australia Memorial in Wellington, New Zealand. This architectural installation symbolising the ANZAC (Australia & New Zealand Army Corps) bond between the two nations was a multi-million dollar gesture paid for by the Australian Government, the most recent in a long list of war memorials constructed in overseas territories with Australian funds. Earlier examples include multi-million dollar memorials in Thailand (Hellfire Pass, 1990s-2000s), the United Kingdom (London, early 2000s), Papua New Guinea (Kokoda, 2000s), France and Belgium (Western Front locations, 2000s-2010s) as well as Turkey (Gallipoli, 2000s-2010s). At one end of the memorial spectrum are what we might consider traditional war memorials such as those at First World War battle sites in Turkey, France, and Belgium; plain neoclassical plinths or cenotaphs, often accompanying a military cemetery or ceremonial landscape. Some memorials take the form of site museums, such as at Villers-Bretonneux (France) and Hellfire Pass (Thailand). At the other end of the spectrum are memorials such as those built in Wellington and London; abstract and evocative in design, these structures are situated in the heart of the capital cities of New Zealand and the United Kingdom respectively, serving as reminders of the close relationships Australia has with the recipient nations.
Review of 'Home: A Suburban Obsession', curated by Chenoa Pettrup and Adam Jefford, State Library of Queensland, Brisbane. December 7, 2018 to July 14, 2019.
Abstract This Forum evolved from a provocation by the Editors of this special issue of Fabrications that “too often heritage conservation assumes an apolitical stance by neglecting to acknowledge its own unsettling agendas.” The... more
Abstract This Forum evolved from a provocation by the Editors of this special issue of Fabrications that “too often heritage conservation assumes an apolitical stance by neglecting to acknowledge its own unsettling agendas.” The Forum's five contributors highlight a range of challenges and trends that architectural heritage professionals – including historians – have begun to identify and engage with in a critical fashion. These pieces demonstrate the need to commit to historical practice that embraces the “critical turn,” and to acknowledge our responsibilities as “gatekeepers” and producers of knowledge. While we cannot control the multitude of interpretations that our work will surely generate across time and space, we can consider whether we are contributing to, or challenging, existing silences, inaccuracies, and regimes of knowledge. This Forum does not claim to provide answers, but instead seeks to foster discussion and identify some of the avenues along which work in the general realm of “Architecture / Heritage / Politics” is – or should be – progressing.
Taking a global and multidisciplinary approach, The SAGE International Encyclopedia of Travel and Tourism brings together a team of international scholars to examine the travel and tourism industry, which is expected to grow at an annual... more
Taking a global and multidisciplinary approach, The SAGE International Encyclopedia of Travel and Tourism brings together a team of international scholars to examine the travel and tourism industry, which is expected to grow at an annual rate of four percent for the next decade. In more than 500 entries spanning four comprehensive volumes, the Encyclopedia examines the business of tourism around the world paying particular attention to the social, economic, environmental, and policy issues at play. The book examines global, regional, national, and local issues including transportation, infrastructure, the environment, and business promotion. By looking at travel trends and countries large and small, the Encyclopedia analyses a wide variety of challenges and opportunities facing the industry. In taking a comprehensive and global approach, the Encyclopedia approaches the field of travel and tourism through the numerous disciplines it reaches, including the traditional tourism administration curriculum within schools of business and management, economics, public policy, as well as social science disciplines such as the anthropology and sociology. [Book Synopsis]
In 2009 the Scottish Government launched the Scottish Ten initiative, a digital heritage program to document Scotland’s five UNESCO World Heritage Sites, as well as five further sites in the United States, India, China, Australia, and... more
In 2009 the Scottish Government launched the Scottish Ten initiative, a digital heritage program to document Scotland’s five UNESCO World Heritage Sites, as well as five further sites in the United States, India, China, Australia, and Japan. This paper discusses the use of digital heritage technology within a broader cultural diplomacy strategy, and poses wider-reaching questions about the underlying motivations of states that engage in digital heritage conservation beyond their own borders.
Since 2008 the Scottish government and heritage authorities have been engaged in several projects and partnerships in India aimed at conserving colonial-era heritage and providing assistance to Indian authorities in the preservation of... more
Since 2008 the Scottish government and heritage authorities have been engaged in several projects and partnerships in India aimed at conserving colonial-era heritage and providing assistance to Indian authorities in the preservation of Indian heritage. These projects range from the recording and rejuvenation of the Scottish Cemetery in Kolkata (formerly Calcutta) to the documentation of Rani Ki Vav, a significant Hindu stepwell, as part of the ‘Scottish 10’ project. These investments are notable for two reasons: typically, international involvement in a country's heritage would come in the form of a non-state actor such as the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation (UNESCO) rather than another nation-state. Furthermore, as many of the sites in India of interest to the Scots were established during the colonial period and exist as a direct result of British rule, the Scottish involvement in their preservation runs the risk of attracting claims of cultura...
The Scottish National Party (SNP) was elected into government in 2007, and in 2011 announced plans for an independence referendum. The SNP Government implemented substantial cultural and heritage projects-many of which showcased the long... more
The Scottish National Party (SNP) was elected into government in 2007, and in 2011 announced plans for an independence referendum. The SNP Government implemented substantial cultural and heritage projects-many of which showcased the long history of Scottish-English animosity. In the accompanying political rhetoric, it was clear that the SNP was utilising history for the independence campaign. The 2014 Referendum ultimately resulted in Scotland's retention of the Union, though the SNP has remained in power. The Scottish-British relationship was further tested in 2016, however, with the UK Referendum on leaving the EU. All Scottish electorates voted in favour of remaining, and the chasm between Scottish and British identities and future trajectories has since widened further. This paper will compare the SNP's promotion of nationalist historical narratives prior to the 2014 Referendum with subsequent cultural and heritage initiatives in light of Brexit. In doing so, the centrality of nationalist histories in contemporary Scottish politics will be highlighted.
Australia’s laid-back, sun-drenched beach lifestyle has been a celebrated and prominent part of its official popular culture for nigh on a century, and the images and motifs associated with this culture have become hallmarks of the... more
Australia’s laid-back, sun-drenched beach lifestyle has been a celebrated and prominent part of its official popular culture for nigh on a century, and the images and motifs associated with this culture have become hallmarks of the country’s collective identity. Though these representations tend towards stereotype, for many Australians the idea of a summer holiday at the beach is one that is intensely personal and romanticised – its image is not at all urbanised. As Douglas Booth observed, for Australians the beach has become a ‘sanctuary at which to abandon cares – a place to let down one’s hair, remove one’s clothes […] a paradise where one could laze in peace, free from guilt, drifting between the hot sand and the warm sea, and seek romance’.1 Beach holidays became popular in the interwar years of the twentieth century, but the most intense burst of activity – both in touristic promotion and in the development of tourism infrastructure – accompanied the postwar economic boom, whe...
In recent years, there has been a spate of posthumously built works by Frank Lloyd Wright. Using the…
The rights of the state to protect heritage within its borders, to ratify international conventions and to cooperate in bilateral engagements have been foundational concepts of heritage governance. Extreme circumstances may result in an... more
The rights of the state to protect heritage within its borders, to ratify international conventions and to cooperate in bilateral engagements have been foundational concepts of heritage governance. Extreme circumstances may result in an intervention by non-state parties, but in times of peace it is typically the state that prevails. Drawing from recent efforts (2000s) of the Australian Federal Government to create a ‘List of Overseas Places of Historic Significance to Australia’, this paper explores the complications that can arise from the privileging of state authority in current approaches to heritage. This serves as a point of departure for considering the more widely applicable contradictions, limitations and loopholes of a global approach that favours the ‘state’ and the ramifications this might have for heritage diplomacy.RésuméLes droits de l’État à protéger son patrimoine à l’intérieur de ses frontières, ratifier des conventions internationales et coopérer dans le cadre d’initiatives bilatérales sont des concepts fondamentaux de la gouvernance patrimoniale. Des entités non étatiques pourraient intervenir dans des cas extrêmes, mais en temps de paix, l’État a généralement préséance. En s’inspirant des initiatives récentes (années 2000) du gouvernement fédéral australien pour créer une « liste des lieux étrangers ayant une importance historique pour l’Australie » , le présent article explore les complications que peut entraîner la position privilégiée de l’autorité d’État dans le contexte des approches patrimoniales courantes. De là, l’article considère les contradictions, limitations et lacunes plus largement applicables d’une approche mondiale qui favorise l’État, et les ramifications que cela pourrait avoir pour la diplomatie patrimoniale.ResumenLos derechos del estado para proteger el patrimonio dentro de sus fronteras, para ratificar convenios, y para cooperar en compromisos bilaterales, han sido conceptos fundacionales de la gobernanza patrimonial. Circunstancias extremas pueden dar lugar a una intervención por partes no estatales, pero en tiempos de paz normalmente es el estado el que prevalece. Recurriendo a esfuerzos recientes (años 2000) del Gobierno Federal australiano para crear una ‘Lista de Lugares de Ultramar de Significado Histórico para Australia’, el presente documento explora las complicaciones que pueden surgir de privilegiar la autoridad estatal en los enfoques actuales con respecto al patrimonio. Esto sirve como punto de partida para considerar las contradicciones, las limitaciones y las fisuras más ampliamente aplicables de un enfoque global que favorece al ‘estado’, y las ramificaciones que esto podría tener para la diplomacia patrimonial.
Book Review: Independence or Union: Scotland's Past and Scotland's Present. By T.M. Devine (London: Allen Lane, 2016), pp. xiii + 306. £20.00 (cloth).
Super-sized structures that mimic or quote smaller ‘real world’ things have been a feature of our landscape for many centuries. Largely as a result of the introduction of the motorcar, a new phase of structures with amplified proportions... more
Super-sized structures that mimic or quote smaller ‘real world’ things have been a feature of our landscape for many centuries. Largely as a result of the introduction of the motorcar, a new phase of structures with amplified proportions swept North America from the 1920s: roadside cafes, service stations and hotels utilised what David Gebhard labelled “programatic architecture” to capture the attention of passing motorists. This trend first appeared in Australia in the 1960s and pe ked in popularity in the 1980s. Numerous “Big Thing”’ (to use the common Australian label) have been constructed in the past decade, such as the Big Golden Gumboot in Tully, QLD (2003), and thus the trend continues. Recent years have also seen the emergence of a ‘Big’ dilemma for local and State authorities, as Australia’s earliest Big Things start to decay, go bankrupt, or attract criticism for the outdated versions of Australian history and identity that they seemingly promote (as with the Big Prawn in...
In 2008, sixty-one years after India's independence from British rule, Scottish heritage professionals began an ambitious project to revive a neglected cemetery in Kolkata (formerly Calcutta) with the backing of both the Scottish and... more
In 2008, sixty-one years after India's independence from British rule, Scottish heritage professionals began an ambitious project to revive a neglected cemetery in Kolkata (formerly Calcutta) with the backing of both the Scottish and West Bengal governments. As the final resting place of an estimated 2,000 Scots who lived and worked in Kolkata during the British colonial period, the cemetery was deemed of significant cultural and historical importance to Scotland. Shortly after work was begun on the conservation of the cemetery, Scotland and West Bengal took a further step to foster a stronger heritage relationship, signing a Protocol of Co-operation which was intended to facilitate Scottish involvement in additional conservation projects in Kolkata. This paper will discuss Scotland's on-going interests in Kolkata, and will highlight the role these heritage projects play in the broader political and/or diplomatic interests held by Scotland. In taking this approach this paper...
In 2008, sixty-one years after India’s independence from British rule, Scottish heritage professionals began an ambitious project to revive a neglected cemetery in Kolkata (formerly Calcutta) with the backing of both the Scottish and West... more
In 2008, sixty-one years after India’s independence from British rule, Scottish heritage professionals began an ambitious project to revive a neglected cemetery in Kolkata (formerly Calcutta) with the backing of both the Scottish and West Bengal governments. As the final resting place of an estimated 2,000 Scots who lived and worked in Kolkata during the British colonial period, the cemetery was deemed of significant cultural and historical importance to Scotland. Shortly after work was begun on the conservation of the cemetery, Scotland and West Bengal took a further step to foster a stronger heritage relationship, signing a Protocol of Co-operation which was intended to facilitate Scottish involvement in additional conservation projects in Kolkata. This paper will discuss Scotland’s on-going interests in Kolkata, and will highlight the role these heritage projects play in the broader political and/or diplomatic interests held by Scotland. In taking this approach this paper will also discuss the willingness of Indian authorities to be involved in such projects as part of a broader agenda to promote the city as a global attraction. This paper will argue that in recent years the ambitions of Scotland and Kolkata have aligned, and this has ultimately facilitated a heritage partnership based on a mutual desire for recognition of the Scottish nation and the West Bengal city as modern, enlightened entities.
Though not the most common location to seek out and analyse architectural history, the open-air museum, a type of institution which typically has folk-culture, agriculture or early industrial change as its focus, exhibits architectural... more
Though not the most common location to seek out and analyse architectural history, the open-air museum, a type of institution which typically has folk-culture, agriculture or early industrial change as its focus, exhibits architectural history in the form of numerous and closely arranged buildings selected for their ability to represent an era, structural use or innovation. One of the primary challenges experienced by museum managers is to ensure a collection of architectural exemplars that adequately represents the culture or time period the museum has as its focus, and to organise these buildings in the landscape in a way that visitors can understand. There is more than one type of visitor to the open-air museum, however—aside from the typically under-informed tourist, these museums support and indeed are supported by a community, often of a specific cultural background. This paper will focus on two museums, the Highland Folk Museum in Scotland and the Highland Village Museum in Nova Scotia, and the ways that their associated Highland Gaelic communities engage with and authenticate the architectural history exhibited at the museums. This paper will suggest that despite being moderated by the often academic approaches of the museum management, as the buildings included on site are used for accessing memories and traditions by their related communities in the present-day it is this community authority which dictates the inclusion, appearance and use of the buildings. As such, this paper will conclude that open-air museums, which have faced criticism in the past from architectural historians and heritage conservationists as being locations of fakery and fiction, can in some instances be genuine sites of cultural and community response and as such provide architectural historians with the opportunity to examine an altogether more modern history – that of the selection of and interaction with architectural history by communities for the purpose of extending cultural memory.
Abstract The Old and New Towns of Edinburgh have long been a popular destination, but the sense of uncontrollable inundation by visitors is a phenomenon of recent decades. While many have claimed the tourist boom is positive and to be... more
Abstract
The Old and New Towns of Edinburgh have long been a popular destination, but the sense of uncontrollable inundation by visitors is a phenomenon of recent decades. While many have claimed the tourist boom is positive and to be further encouraged, residents have decried the loss of their city’s soul. The debate about ‘over-tourism’ in Edinburgh has become a common topic in the local press: the pro-tourism side argues that the city is a living, evolving entity that cannot be locked in a museum case, while the anti-tourism campaigners allege that Edinburgh is quickly falling victim to ‘Disneyfication’.

This threat of a loss of ‘authenticity’ is particularly important in the context of Edinburgh’s historic built landscape, as the Old and New Towns precincts have been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1995. They were listed because of the global significance of ‘a remarkable blend of the two urban phenomena: the organic medieval growth and 18th and 19th century town planning’ (UNESCO, 1995). Indeed, Edinburgh’s distinct townscape and architectural appearance is a significant factor in its tourism success: millions visit each year to see Edinburgh Castle, the medieval and 18th century tenements of the Royal Mile, and the Classical Revival New Town. The conservation of existing structures and the introduction of new architecture is, in theory, strictly controlled to maintain heritage values. In practice, however, there have been numerous examples of developments that have challenged Edinburgh’s architectural status quo. This paper will explore two recent examples of contemporary architecture in hotel developments within Edinburgh’s historic centre that have attracted a range of reactions from the public and press. In doing so, the increasingly irreconcilable needs and outcomes of tourism, community management, urban planning, architectural design, and heritage conservation will be highlighted.

Keywords
World Heritage, Edinburgh, Contemporary Architecture, Development, Tourism
The Scottish National Party (SNP) was elected into government in 2007, and in January 2012 announced plans for an independence referendum. In the same period, the SNP government implemented substantial cultural and heritage projects -... more
The Scottish National Party (SNP) was elected into government in 2007, and in January 2012 announced plans for an independence referendum. In the same period, the SNP government implemented substantial cultural and heritage projects - some of which showcased the long history of Scottish-English animosity. In the accompanying political rhetoric, it was clear that the SNP was utilising history for the 2014 independence campaign. This referendum ultimately resulted in Scotland's retention of the Union, though the SNP remained in power. The Scottish-British relationship was further tested in 2016, however, with the UK referendum on leaving the EU. All Scottish electorates voted in favour of remaining, and the chasm between Scottish and British identities and future trajectories has since widened further. This article compares the SNP's promotion of nationalist historical narratives prior to the 2014 referendum, particularly those seen in government-supported heritage initiatives, with subsequent historical narratives expressed especially through diplomatic engagements in light of Brexit. In doing so, the infusion of nationalist histories in contemporary Scottish politics - and the potential complications of this approach for the SNP in the post-Brexit political landscape - will be highlighted.
Review of 'Home: A Suburban Obsession', curated by Chenoa Pettrup and Adam Jefford, State Library of Queensland, Brisbane. December 7, 2018 to July 14, 2019.
Australia’s laid-back, sun-drenched beach lifestyle has been a celebrated and prominent part of its official popular culture for nigh on a century, and the images and motifs associated with this culture have become hallmarks of the... more
Australia’s laid-back, sun-drenched beach lifestyle has been a celebrated and prominent part of its official popular culture for nigh on a century, and the images and motifs associated with this culture have become hallmarks of the country’s collective identity. Though these representations tend towards stereotype, for many Australians the idea of a summer holiday at the beach is one that is intensely personal and romanticised – its image is not at all urbanised. As Douglas Booth observed, for Australians the beach has become a ‘sanctuary at which to abandon cares – a place to let down one’s hair, remove one’s clothes […] a paradise where one could laze in peace, free from guilt, drifting between the hot sand and the warm sea, and seek romance’.1 Beach holidays became popular in the interwar years of the twentieth century, but the most intense burst of activity – both in touristic promotion and in the development of tourism infrastructure – accompanied the postwar economic boom, when family incomes were able to meet the cost of a car and, increasingly, a cheap block of land by the beach upon which a holiday home could be erected with thrift and haste. In subtropical southeast Queensland, the postwar beach holiday became the hallmark of the state’s burgeoning tourism industry; the state’s southeast coastline in particular benefiting from its warm climate and proximity to the capital, Brisbane. It was here – along the evocatively named Gold Coast (to Brisbane’s south) and Sunshine Coast (to its north) [1] – that many families experienced their first taste of what is now widely celebrated as the beach lifestyle [2]. ...
In June 2017, the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York marked the sesquicentenary of Frank Lloyd Wright's birth with the opening of a major new exhibition, ‘Frank Lloyd Wright at 150: Unpacking the Archive’. Drawing extensively upon... more
In June 2017, the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York marked the sesquicentenary of Frank Lloyd Wright's birth with the opening of a major new exhibition, ‘Frank Lloyd Wright at 150: Unpacking the Archive’. Drawing extensively upon the holdings of the Frank Lloyd Wright Archives, acquired by MoMA in partnership with the Avery Library at Columbia University in 2012, the exhibition was announced by its host institution as an occasion to ‘open up Wright's work to critical inquiry and debate’. Given its promise to assay the archive for new interpretations and insights, it is curious that MoMA said nothing of the kind of questions needing to be asked of Wright's work—nothing of the proverbial stones that remain unturned. After all, what needs to be said about an oeuvre that has been so exhaustively researched, so extensively published, and so widely celebrated that Frank Lloyd Wright was already a household name in his own lifetime? MoMA ultimately addressed this question by delving deep into the archive to present a small number of works – many largely unknown – in rich detail. But what was surprising for an exhibition drawn from, and ostensibly about, one of the world's most coveted architectural archives, was how little it had to say about the archive itself, and its silence on the archive's present-day relationship to the more than 400 extant buildings, and many hundreds of unbuilt designs, that are identified with Wright.
This Forum evolved from a provocation by the Editors of this special issue of Fabrications that “too often heritage conservation assumes an apolitical stance by neglecting to acknowledge its own unsettling agendas.” The Forum's five... more
This Forum evolved from a provocation by the Editors of this special issue of Fabrications that “too often heritage conservation assumes an apolitical stance by neglecting to acknowledge its own unsettling agendas.” The Forum's five contributors highlight a range of challenges and trends that architectural heritage professionals – including historians – have begun to identify and engage with in a critical fashion. These pieces demonstrate the need to commit to historical practice that embraces the “critical turn,” and to acknowledge our responsibilities as “gatekeepers” and producers of knowledge. While we cannot control the multitude of interpretations that our work will surely generate across time and space, we can consider whether we are contributing to, or challenging, existing silences, inaccuracies, and regimes of knowledge. This Forum does not claim to provide answers, but instead seeks to foster discussion and identify some of the avenues along which work in the general realm of “Architecture / Heritage / Politics” is – or should be – progressing.
Chapter in Handbook of Cultural Security (edited by Yasushi Watanabe).
In recent years, digital heritage has emerged as an important new eld of research and practice, with an implicit ambition to record, conserve and even reconstruct culturally signi cant sites and artefacts threatened by war, climate... more
In recent years, digital heritage has emerged as an important new  eld of research and practice, with an implicit ambition to record, conserve and even reconstruct culturally signi cant sites and artefacts threatened by war, climate change, natural disasters, development and neglect. Digital heritage initiatives have been enthusiastically promoted and adopted by government bodies, institutions and philanthropic organisations from around the world. Despite its allure, the application and utility of preserving, managing and reproducing built heritage via digital technology remains largely untested, and carries with it risks that may ultimately undermine the practice altogether. Drawing from recent examples such as the Institute of Digital Archaeology (IDA)’s replica Palmyra Arch, and Factum Arte’s facsimile of Tutankhamen’s Tomb, this paper identi es some of the particular challenges raised by the physical replication of heritage using digital technologies. Issues such as the quality of reproduction, the motivations for such projects, and unintended outcomes (e.g. neglect, complacency) are considered, as are more philosophical questions such as the revision of history. As such, the paper takes on a critical and provocative future vision of digital heritage technology and its use in replication, by highlighting some of the threats such practices may pose to the very cultural heritage it aims to protect.
Super-sized structures that mimic or quote smaller 'real world' things have been a feature of our landscape for many centuries. Largely as a result of the introduction of the motorcar, a new phase of structures with amplified proportions... more
Super-sized structures that mimic or quote smaller 'real world' things have been a feature of our landscape for many centuries. Largely as a result of the introduction of the motorcar, a new phase of structures with amplified proportions swept North America from the 1920s: roadside cafes, service stations and hotels utilised what David Gebhard labelled " programatic architecture " to capture the attention of passing motorists. This trend first appeared in Australia in the 1960s and peaked in popularity in the 1980s. Numerous " Big Thing " ' (to use the common Australian label) have been constructed in the past decade, such as the Big Golden Gumboot in Tully, QLD (2003), and thus the trend continues. Recent years have also seen the emergence of a 'Big' dilemma for local and State authorities, as Australia's earliest Big Things start to decay, go bankrupt, or attract criticism for the outdated versions of Australian history and identity that they seemingly promote (as with the Big Prawn in Ballina [NSW]), the Big Lobster in Kingston [SA] and the Big Captain Cook in Cairns [QLD]). These roadside attractions have become significant landmarks with many layers of social, aesthetic and cultural importance at local and national levels, and their heritage value has begun to be acknowledged. In 2009 the Big Pineapple (Nambour, QLD) was inscribed on the Queensland Heritage Register, and as other landmarks have come under threat of closure or demolition, debate about the future of these structures has quickly followed. This paper will historicise Australia's Big Things and consider the emerging heritage dilemma, and in doing so will reflect on the changing socio-political landscape that these architectural features occupy.
Australians have been fascinated by “Big Things” since the 1960s, when statues such as Adelaide’s Big Scotsman and the Big Banana in Coffs Harbour were opened to great fanfare. These super-sized structures can be found in other countries,... more
Australians have been fascinated by “Big Things” since the 1960s, when statues such as Adelaide’s Big Scotsman and the Big Banana in Coffs Harbour were opened to great fanfare. These super-sized structures can be found in other countries, too. The United States is known for its Big Donut, Canada has the world’s largest fiddle, but the attachment to Big Things here has an almost patriotic quality.

Many will recall childhood road trips punctuated by such highlights as a giant Merino sheep or a towering rocking horse, or an assortment of fruits – the Big Avocado, the Big Orange and the Big Mango. When the latter was reported “missing” in 2014, the news made national headlines, only to be later revealed as a publicity stunt.

But in a nation now littered with at least 200 Big Things, there is a sizeable problem. What to do with them as they age and wear out? Many Big Things were built cheaply from concrete and fibreglass – materials that inevitably fade and decay.
The rights of the state to protect heritage within its borders, to ratify international conventions and to cooperate in bilateral engagements have been foundational concepts of heritage governance. Extreme circumstances may result in an... more
The rights of the state to protect heritage within its borders, to ratify international conventions and to cooperate in bilateral engagements have been foundational concepts of heritage governance. Extreme circumstances may result in an intervention by non-state parties, but in times of peace it is typically the state that prevails. Drawing from recent efforts (2000s) of the Australian Federal Government to create a ‘List of Overseas Places of Historic Significance to Australia’, this paper explores the complications that can arise from the privileging of state authority in current approaches to heritage. This serves as a point of departure for considering the more widely applicable contradictions, limitations and loopholes of a global approach that favours the ‘state’ and the ramifications this might have for heritage diplomacy.
On April 25th 2015, Australian politicians and invited guests attended a memorial service at the newly completed Australia Memorial in Wellington, New Zealand. This architectural installation symbolising the ANZAC (Australia & New Zealand... more
On April 25th 2015, Australian politicians and invited guests attended a memorial service at the newly completed Australia Memorial in Wellington, New Zealand. This architectural installation symbolising the ANZAC (Australia & New Zealand Army Corps) bond between the two nations was a multi-million dollar gesture paid for by the Australian Government, the most recent in a long list of war memorials constructed in overseas territories with Australian funds. Earlier examples include multi-million dollar memorials in Thailand (Hellfire Pass, 1990s-2000s), the United Kingdom (London, early 2000s), Papua New Guinea (Kokoda, 2000s), France and Belgium (Western Front locations, 2000s-2010s) as well as Turkey (Gallipoli, 2000s-2010s). At one end of the memorial spectrum are what we might consider traditional war memorials such as those at First World War battle sites in Turkey, France, and Belgium; plain neoclassical plinths or cenotaphs, often accompanying a military cemetery or ceremonial landscape. Some memorials take the form of site museums, such as at Villers-Bretonneux (France) and Hellfire Pass (Thailand). At the other end of the spectrum are memorials such as those built in Wellington and London; abstract and evocative in design, these structures are situated in the heart of the capital cities of New Zealand and the United Kingdom respectively, serving as reminders of the close relationships Australia has with the recipient nations.
Zaha Hadid built a career that was both celebrated and divisive. At the time of her death last week, Hadid, 65, had achieved an array of professional accolades including the Pritzker Prize (2004) and RIBA Gold Medal (2015). But she was... more
Zaha Hadid built a career that was both celebrated and divisive. At the time of her death last week, Hadid, 65, had achieved an array of professional accolades including the Pritzker Prize (2004) and RIBA Gold Medal (2015). But she was also caught up in controversies over major projects such as her now-rejected design for the Tokyo 2020 Olympic Stadium.
Hadid was a “starchitect”. Her designs for projects ranging from the London 2012 Olympics to the world’s largest airport passenger terminal in Beijing attracted international acclaim.
But what happens when a celebrity architect’s career ends abruptly, leaving numerous projects mid-construction, awaiting approval, or still on the drawing board?
There are countless examples of explorers and prospectors being duped by the gleam of fool’s gold, or pyrite: a mineral that has a remarkably golden sheen but on closer inspection is revealed to be something altogether different. Pyrite... more
There are countless examples of explorers and prospectors being duped by the gleam of fool’s gold, or pyrite: a mineral that has a remarkably golden sheen but on closer inspection is revealed to be something altogether different. Pyrite has its own uses and can be found in close proximity to real gold deposits, but it lacks the prestige that has long been bestowed on its metallic namesake. A similar phenomenon can be observed in urban environments, where seemingly ‘normal’ neoclassical terraces, castellated towers, 1950s bungalows and even strangely rigid palm-trees pepper the landscape, blending in to their surroundings through cunning acts of architectural camouflage. These carefully crafted façades can sometimes echo their surroundings so effectively that passers-by fail to notice the subtle differences that hint that these structures are not, in fact, what they seem. Appearing on the surface to be one thing whilst operating as something different, one might regard these as architectural ‘fool’s gold’: terraces obscuring subway vents, bungalows masking electrical substations, castellated forms hiding pumping towers and telecommunications masts that take the form of palms, pine trees and church crosses. This paper uses the phenomenon of architectural camouflage, drawing on examples from North America, Europe and Australia, to challenge existing attitudes about authenticity in architectural design and heritage practice. Are these ‘fake’ forms essentially worthless, serving only to highlight a predominantly Western distaste for ugly infrastructure? Or are they of value for a different reason, serving
as an indicator of contemporary fondness for ‘hyperreality’, whereby a convincing ‘fake’ of one form is preferable to the gritty reality of another?
Outlander (1991), by American author Diana Gabaldon, tells the story of an English heroine, Claire, who is transported from the 1940s to the 1740s when she steps through an ancient stone circle in the hills above Inverness (Scotland).... more
Outlander (1991), by American author Diana Gabaldon, tells the story of an English heroine, Claire, who is transported from the 1940s to the 1740s when she steps through an ancient stone circle in the hills above Inverness (Scotland). Claire is drawn into the intrigue of the Jacobite Rebellion, and readers follow her journey as she tries to change the series of historical events that ultimately lead to the Battle of Culloden and subsequent Highland Clearances. Outlander has grown dramatically in popularity since its first publication, with a new generation of readers discovering the story as a result of the Outlander television series adaptation, broadcast in 2014-15.

The popularity of Outlander amongst North American audiences (many of whom are members of the Scottish diaspora) is clear from book sales and viewer numbers, and there appears to have been a flow-on effect in terms of tourism in Scotland and, indeed, visits to specific heritage sites featured in the story. The Scottish Government’s tourism and heritage agencies, VisitScotland and Historic Scotland, have been quick to promote the links between Scottish heritage attractions and the Outlander series, and authorities at sites such as Culloden have long been aware of the prominence of Outlander fans paying their respects to the fallen Jacobite soldiers on the battlefield. This paper investigates Outlander-related heritage tourism campaigns and trends in Scotland over the past two decades, and in doing so highlights the similarity in the narrative of this literary-themed tourism with the romantic Highlands narrative that so often features in diaspora-oriented tourism campaigns in Scotland. In addition, this paper documents the intentional twinning of these two tourism themes by Scottish heritage and tourism operators, and ultimately suggests that North American interests in Outlander and in heritage tourism attractions in the Scottish Highlands are fostered by the same underlying desire to be ‘transported’ back to a more ‘romantic’ and ‘authentic’ moment in Scotland’s history.
Entry in SAGE International Encyclopedia of Travel and Tourism, edited by Linda Lowry  (4 vols)
Entry in SAGE International Encyclopedia of Travel and Tourism, edited by Linda Lowry (4 Vols)

And 7 more

There are several ways in which heritage diplomacy takes place: we can see it in the high-level negotiations between nations with regards to conservation decisions at the global level; we can see it in donations of funding and expertise... more
There are several ways in which heritage diplomacy takes place: we can see it in the high-level negotiations between nations with regards to conservation decisions at the global level; we can see it in donations of funding and expertise offered by one or more nations to another; and it is even apparent in the exchange of artefacts and exhibitions between nations as a means of promoting bonds. Heritage professionals and diplomats have a shared interest in this concept, and yet academic interest in heritage diplomacy has only developed in the past decade. Nonetheless, the observations now emerging suggest that fields such as international relations, heritage studies, sustainability and cultural studies have much to gain from this idea. Furthermore, it seems that diplomatic engagements with heritage are becoming commonplace – perhaps more nations will follow the lead of the US, Japan and Turkey, who have each founded state-sponsored heritage diplomacy agencies. With this in mind, it is important that universities, heritage organisations and governments now consider how best to incorporate diplomatic strategy into training and practice.
Though not the most common location to seek out and analyse architectural history, the open-air museum, a type of institution which typically has folk-culture, agriculture or early industrial change as its focus, exhibits architectural... more
Though not the most common location to seek out and analyse architectural history, the open-air museum, a type of institution which typically has folk-culture, agriculture or early industrial change as its focus, exhibits architectural history in the form of numerous and closely arranged buildings selected for their ability to represent an era, structural use or innovation. One of the primary challenges experienced by museum managers is to ensure a collection of architectural exemplars that adequately represents the culture or time period the museum has as its focus, and to organise these buildings in the landscape in a way that visitors can understand.  There is more than one type of visitor to the open-air museum, however – aside from the typically under-informed tourist, these museums support and indeed are supported by a community, often of a specific cultural background.  This paper will focus on two museums, the Highland Folk Museum in Scotland and the Highland Village Museum in Nova Scotia, and the ways that their associated Highland Gaelic communities engage with and authenticate the architectural history exhibited at the museums.  This paper will suggest that despite being moderated by the often academic approaches of the museum management, as the buildings included on site are used for accessing memories and traditions by their related communities in the present-day it is this community authority which dictates the inclusion, appearance and use of the buildings. As such, this paper will conclude that open-air museums, which have faced criticism in the past from architectural historians and heritage conservationists as being locations of fakery and fiction, can in some instances be genuine sites of cultural and community response and as such provide architectural historians with the opportunity to examine an altogether more modern history – that of the selection of and interaction with architectural history by communities for the purpose of extending cultural memory.
Since devolution in 1997 Scotland has been a nation increasingly conscious of its national brand. From the Year of Homecoming in 2009 to the opening of sites such as the Robert Burns Birthplace Museum (2011) and the Culloden Battlefield... more
Since devolution in 1997 Scotland has been a nation increasingly conscious of its national brand.  From the Year of Homecoming in 2009 to the opening of sites such as the Robert Burns Birthplace Museum (2011) and the Culloden Battlefield Visitor Centre (2007), Scotland has utilized its long history and widespread diaspora to stimulate its tourism and business sectors and promote its cultural identity on a global scale.  The Scottish government has undertaken several international partnerships in the fields of culture, education and commerce, and through its rhetoric and policy the government appears to be encouraging a global perception of Scotland as a nation in the throes of a ‘New Enlightenment.’

The National Museum of Scotland (and former Royal Museum) has benefited from this alleged cultural renaissance,  having reopened this July following its second renovation in less than 15 years.  Comprised of two separate buildings, the former Royal Museum (1854) and the Museum of Scotland (1998), the National Museum of Scotland’s most recent construction program restored and modernised the Royal Museum structure, which had originally been built as an Industrial Museum before receiving Royal status in 1904.  The renovation returned the Museum to its original 19th century appearance but added installations such as a four-storey ‘Window on the World’ structure that uses 850 artefacts to showcase “where the cultures of Scotland and the world meet.” 

Given the fact that the Royal Museum’s origins were in part a testament to Scotland’s position in the United Kingdom and British Empire, the current Museum’s new form communicates much about the evolution of Scotland’s national identity and its relationship with the world.  The 1998 and 2011 construction programs for the National Museum of Scotland are clear examples of Billig’s suggestion that “national histories are continually being re-written, and the re-writing reflects current balances of hegemony.”  Scotland’s evolution from 19th century industrial powerhouse of the British Empire to the increasingly independent ‘Enlightened’ nation of today has been echoed by the ever-changing form of its national Museum.

This paper will explore the evolution of the National Museum of Scotland from its origins as an Industrial Museum to its modern conception, paying particular attention to the parallels between events in Scotland’s national history and changes to the Museum’s format.  The recent renovation will be of specific focus, with an analysis of the exhibition content, marketing campaigns and architectural changes being cross-referenced against recent Scottish government policies, plans and rhetoric.  This paper will ultimately seek to show that the National Museum of Scotland fulfils an alternate role as an historic artefact in and of itself, as much a victim of Scotland’s evolving identity as the historic relics it houses.


Keywords: National Museum of Scotland, Royal Museum of Scotland, Enlightenment,cultural renaissance, independence.
Once a jewel in British India’s crown, Kolkata (formerly Calcutta, capital of the Indian state of West Bengal) has retained its status as an important cultural and financial centre and has numerous heritage structures that were built... more
Once a jewel in British India’s crown, Kolkata (formerly Calcutta, capital of the Indian state of West Bengal) has retained its status as an important cultural and financial centre and has numerous heritage structures that were built during the city’s time as the capital of British India (1772-1911).  Although perhaps not as recognisable to the British as Buckingham Palace, sites such as the Victoria Memorial (1906), Clive House (1760s) and St Andrews Kirk (1815) are acknowledged by authorities such as English Heritage and Historic Scotland as being worthy of preservation.

In recent years concerns over the declining state of colonial-era heritage structures in Kolkata have resulted in several British and Scottish attempts to coordinate funding and support for conservation.  The efforts of parties such as English Heritage, Historic Scotland, the British High Commission and the Scottish Government have had mixed success.  Agreements such as the English Heritage/Heritage Lottery Fund-West Bengal Government conservation deal (2000) have fallen through; restoration programs such as that instigated by the Scottish Government (2009) have stagnated through lack of funding, and international publicity campaigns, such as that concerning the protection of Robert Clive’s House (1760s), have similarly had little effect. 

There are however small victories, such as the on-going conservation program at the Scottish Cemetery that is being championed by Scottish and local heritage authorities, that suggest there is potential for bi-lateral partnerships in the heritage industry in West Bengal.  A recent change in state government (2011) holds further promise – the new Chief Minister of West Bengal has implemented a program to restore Kolkata’s Hooghly Riverfront and transform the area into the ‘Thames of India,’ and is being assisted in her goal by the British Deputy High Commission.

This paper will outline recent attempts by British and/or Scottish heritage authorities to engage with the colonial built heritage of West Bengal.  In doing so, this paper will consider whether historical, political and cultural factors might have an impact on the selection, initiation and overall success of these projects.  Through exploring the examples of British/Scottish involvement with the built heritage of West Bengal this paper will ultimately consider the role of a former colonising power in the designation, preservation and promotion of built heritage located beyond its national borders.


Keywords: Colonial heritage, India, Britain, Scotland, bi-lateral partnership, West Bengal
Once a jewel in British India’s crown, Calcutta has retained its status as an important cultural and financial centre and still has numerous heritage structures that were built during Calcutta’s time as the capital of British India... more
Once a jewel in British India’s crown, Calcutta has retained its status as an important cultural and financial centre and still has numerous heritage structures that were built during Calcutta’s time as the capital of British India (1772-1911).  Although perhaps not as recognisable to the British as Buckingham Palace, sites such as the Victoria Memorial (1906) and Clive House (1760s) are acknowledged by authorities such as English Heritage as being worthy of preservation.

In recent years concerns over the declining state of colonial-era heritage structures in Calcutta have resulted in several failed attempts to coordinate funding and support for conservation.  Agreements such as the English Heritage/Heritage Lottery-West Bengal Government conservation deal (2000) have largely failed.  International publicity campaigns, such as that concerning the protection of Robert Clive’s House (1760s), have similarly had little effect.

In contrast the Scottish government has initiated and begun a program of conservation in Calcutta independently of British authorities.  Following a Memorandum of Understanding between the Scottish and West Bengal governments in 2009, restoration has begun on sites such as the Scottish Cemetery (1820) and St Andrews Kirk (1818).  This program was fostered by existing professional and community partnerships between Scots and Indians, and has focussed solely on the preservation of Scottish heritage sites in Calcutta.

This paper aims to examine whether historical and cultural factors have impacted on recent attempts by British and Scottish authorities to undertake heritage preservation in Calcutta.  The approach and rhetoric of British and Scottish authorities in negotiations will be assessed, as will the historical significance and contemporary relevance of the heritage sites in question to British, Scottish and Indian audiences.  This paper will ultimately consider the perception of Britain and Scotland in modern Calcutta, and the impact these views may have on the management of the colonial heritage.

Keywords: Calcutta, British heritage, Scottish heritage, heritage management
Capital Designs: Australia House and Visions of an Imperial London. By Eileen Chanin (North Melbourne, Vic.: Australian Scholarly Publishing, 2018), pp.xix + 416. 47 Images. AU$49.95 (pb). The physical manifestation of a nation’s sense... more
Capital Designs: Australia House and Visions of an Imperial London. By Eileen Chanin (North Melbourne, Vic.: Australian Scholarly Publishing, 2018), pp.xix + 416. 47 Images. AU$49.95 (pb).

The physical manifestation of a nation’s sense of power and identity via the conduit of an embassy is an intriguing subject. Such structures are intended to assert steadfast national confidence and pride, but almost always end up expressing something more: the relationship between two governments, the prevailing architectural opinions about civic (yet necessarily functional) design, and the influence of the host nation on matters ranging from site selection to labour regulations. Eileen Chanin’s Capital Designs: Australia House and Visions of an Imperial London brings these facets — via Australia House in London — to the fore, and ...
Book Review: Independence or Union: Scotland's Past and Scotland's Present. By T.M. Devine (London: Allen Lane, 2016), pp. xiii + 306. £20.00 (cloth).
Emma Waterton and Steve Watson’s The Semiotics of Heritage Tourism offers a concise and fresh perspective on a deeply theoretical approach to understanding heritage tourism, and the notion of “affect,” through semiotics. While this may... more
Emma Waterton and Steve Watson’s The Semiotics of Heritage Tourism offers a concise and fresh perspective on a deeply theoretical approach to understanding heritage tourism, and the notion of “affect,” through semiotics. While this may not be an entirely new mode of analysis, particularly in the realm of Tourism and Cultural Studies, the authors set out to encourage fellow scholars and practitioners to “move thinking about heritage tourism, towards that which occurs within it” (11), as they...
Research Interests:
Jenni Calder’s Lost in the Backwoods: Scots and the North American Wilderness utilises several intersecting themes to chart the history of Scottish experiences in North America, with a particular focus on the eighteenth and nineteenth... more
Jenni Calder’s Lost in the Backwoods: Scots and the North American Wilderness utilises several intersecting themes to chart the history of Scottish experiences in North America, with a particular focus on the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The notion and perception of ‘wilderness’ serves as the central axis for Calder’s text, and it is around this theme that other subjects, such as exploration, exploitation and conservation, rotate. Calder’s approach is informed by a variety of period sources as well as more recently published literature that takes Scottish experiences of wilderness as inspiration, and in some respects Lost in the Backwoods could be read as a broad literary history of Scots in frontier landscapes. This is not the text’s only contribution, however, as the inclusion and organisation of topics has been orchestrated in such a way as to highlight the diversity of motivations, approaches and outcomes wrought by the wider social and economic issues of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The suffering of reluctant settlers and ill-prepared explorers features alongside examples of Scots who capitalised on the wilderness for industrial wealth and leisure; while the feverish impulses to farm, mine and hunt contrasts with the appreciation of the wilderness as a source of knowledge and beauty.

The study of Scottish experiences in eighteenth and nineteenth century North America is not a new field, and many of the people and events that Calder includes in Lost in the Backwoods will be familiar to both academic and general audiences. The Red River settlement in Manitoba and the 1773 voyage of the ship Hector to Pictou (Nova Scotia) are commonly included in historical accounts of Scottish settlement in North America, for instance, and while Calder follows this tradition by incorporating them in her text, they serve not as focal points but instead as recognisable features in what might otherwise be unfamiliar terrain. The ‘Desperate Undertakings’ narrative of Chapter Three, for example, weaves together the relatively well-rehearsed accounts of the experiences of Alexander Mackenzie, Simon Fraser and John Rae with the lesser known journeys of Scottish fur-traders in the employ of the Pacific Fur Company, and Scottish scientists and explorers on the ill-fated 1819 overland expedition in to the Arctic. Though, as Calder acknowledges, “obscurity has […] been the legacy of most of the many hundreds of Scots” involved in the exploration of large swathes of the North American wilderness (p. 82), the inclusion of some of these Scots alongside the formidable figures of Mackenzie, Fraser and Rae in Calder’s text serves as an invitation for others to revisit this aspect of Scottish-American history.

There are two common characteristics that unite the men and women who are featured in Lost in the Backwoods, their wilderness surroundings and their nationality, and both commonalities are drawn upon by Calder as means for comparing experiences. It is acknowledged early in the introductory chapter that Scots were “identified as robust material for settlement in the New World” (p. 2) as they often exhibited traits of perseverance in (and resignation to) adverse conditions. Throughout the text, stories of survival and endurance are accompanied by the observation that, at least to eighteenth and nineteenth century observers, the attributes that made these feats possible were inherently ‘Scottish’ in origin. This is not to say that every Scot who travelled through and experienced the North American wilderness was identical in temper and ambition, Calder is careful to point out (p. 81-82), but instead that the singular and self-reliant nature of many of these Scots appears to have been inspired by common social, cultural and environmental factors such as the Scottish Presbyterian faith, and the acceptance of remote and inhospitable locations in which to eke out a living. This is an interesting observation that contributes to our understanding of the intentional recruitment of Scots on the basis of ethnicity, as well as the perception of ‘Scottishness’ as a distinct set of character traits, that occurred in many locations around the world in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

The other common attribute amongst those featured in Calder’s text, that of the wilderness locale, also offers up a wealth of observations about the experiences of Scots in North America. While ‘Scottishness’ was typically perceived as ensuring a specific (usually positive) outcome amongst those who possessed it, the same is not true of the wilderness which had all manner of effects on the people it encompassed. The isolation, destitution and danger experienced by some Scots as a result of settling or exploring the North American wilderness directly contrasts with the feelings of liberation and wonder that were inspired in others; and what was a landscape of opportunity for some was for others a place of suffering. All of these people were Scottish, and therefore – by the perceptions of the time at least – possessed of similar qualities, and yet the wilderness appears to have provoked a wide variety of reactions. Perhaps, as Calder has noted (p.2), the reaction of individual Scots was determined by the cards they were dealt upon arrival: the type of wilderness they were exposed to, the applicability of the skills and knowledge they brought with them and the proximity of their new abode to trade routes and other settlements could each have a dramatic impact.

Lost in the Backwoods is ambitious in scope, and while it is liberally furnished with chapter end notes and a bibliography, its relatively short length and relatively quick pace ultimately result in a work that is more of a starting point than a definitive study. In some respects this is one of the text’s strengths as its appeal extends beyond academic discourse on Scottish migration history and Scottish-American literature, reaching out to more general audiences and providing a point of access into these fields. Much of the material contained within Lost in the Backwoods was already known to historians, however Calder has compiled and analysed this material in such a way as to raise new and wide-ranging questions about Scottish and Scottish-American identity that warrant further exploration by social and literary historians alike.
A review of: Marjory Harper, Scotland No More? The Scots who left Scotland in the Twentieth Century (Edinburgh: Luath Press, 2012) ISBN 978-1-908-37335-9, Paperback, 275pp., £14.99. Though it has been of some interest to scholars for... more
A review of: Marjory Harper, Scotland No More? The Scots who left Scotland in the Twentieth Century (Edinburgh: Luath Press, 2012) ISBN 978-1-908-37335-9, Paperback, 275pp., £14.99.

Though it has been of some interest to scholars for several decades now, the Scottish diaspora has been the subject of increasingly detailed research in recent years, helped along no doubt by devolution and the forthcoming referendum for
Scottish independence. While the romanticised portrayal of a predominately Highlands-originated community in exile may linger in some corners of the world, the work of scholars such as T. M. Devine, Paul Basu, Duncan Sim and Marjory Harper has challenged this description of the Scottish diaspora, throwing into greater relief the incredible diversity of motivations and outcomes of those Scots – from the Highlands, Lowlands and Islands alike – who have emigrated over the
past several centuries. Harper’s most recent book, Scotland No More? continues in the pursuit of providing a fuller picture of the diaspora, focusing specifically on the migration of Scots in the twentieth century. This era in the history of Scottish
population movement has yet to be given the coverage that has been afforded the nineteenth and eighteenth centuries and as such Scotland No More? serves the dual purposes of addressing misapprehensions about the migrants of this period while also providing an overview of the underlying themes that facilitated the departure of millions to North America, the Antipodes and South Africa.

In focusing on the ‘carrots’ and ‘sticks’ motivators for emigrants, Scotland No More? dissects the common chronological approach to Scottish migration and provides a fuller understanding of the geographic and demographic diversity of the millions who departed. This is certainly not a new approach for Harper, who has a substantial track-record in publications on Scottish migration. Far from rehashing old material, however, Scotland No More? provides an overview of
many of the better-known instances of twentieth-century emigration from Scotland, as well as introducing lesser-known stories and previously unpublished accounts of migration experiences. In doing so the text serves as both a sufficient
account of the twentieth-century diaspora for those with a passing interest, as well as a sound introduction for those seeking a starting point for more detailed research.

Following a brief introduction in which Harper acknowledges the growing public interest in the Scottish diaspora and in family history, chapter one delves into cross-border emigration to England. It is clear from the outset that Harper’s text trades comprehensive detail for a quick narrative pace, and she acknowledges that it would be impossible to describe all of the circumstances for Scottish migration to England - though there are several common threads. Geographical concentrations such as that documented in Yarmouth (East Anglia) prior to the
First World War and in Corby (Northamptonshire) in the 1930s are included as evidence of the waves of Scots who followed specific employment opportunities south, while the some 100,000-110,000 Scots who have called London home throughout the century are also acknowledged. It is in this first chapter that one of the overriding motivations of Harper’s narrative becomes increasingly apparent – in order to do justice to the vast array of individual experiences of Scots migrants, it is necessary to acknowledge the hardships as well as the success stories, without dwelling too long on any one example.

The following four chapters continue in this vein, though they move away from the specific location of England to instead consider the different motivations for, and outcomes of, inter-war and post-Second World War emigration. Chapter two
takes the 1920s and 1930s as its focus, and given that the chapter is predominately concerned with a period dominated by recovery from the First World War and the later Depression era it is of little surprise that the overall impression is one of desperation and discord. The process of emigrant
recruitment, which is outlined in chapter two, carries over into chapter three, which looks more closely at sponsored settlement programs. The chapter pays particular attention to the settlement of orphaned children and disadvantaged
youths through various charitable schemes. Harper notes that the experience of these young emigrants ranged from successful integration in their new country at one end of the spectrum to claims of exploitation and discrimination at the other. Chapter four, which focusses on the post-war period through to the 1970s, further reinforces this theme: regardless of whether the emigrants were war brides to North America or ‘Ten Pound Poms’ to Australia, the challenges of finding
employment and suitable accommodation, and of renegotiating individual and community identities, resulted in a mixed-bag of triumphs and failures.

It is in the final two chapters of Scotland No More? that the overriding challenge of describing a diverse group of migrant experiences in a way that finds commonalities without compressing or discarding divergent voices is most
convincingly met. Chapter five, which contemplates the dysfunctional elements of the twentieth-century diaspora, and chapter six, which incorporates excerpts from interviews undertaken in the 2005 University of Aberdeen ‘Voices from the
Scottish Diaspora’ project, address themes such as the resistance to emigration within Scotland and the recipient countries, and incidences of return-migrants and ‘transilients’ (those migrants who were permanently mobile). These chapters
highlight the shift in motivations to emigrate, from the chronic unemployment and industrial decline of the early decades of the century, through to the desire for better employment opportunities and quality of life in the 1960s and 1970s.

In seeking to provide an accurate picture of the twentieth-century migration of Scots, Scotland No More? walks a fine line between the necessary, but at times overwhelming, quantification of the exodus on one hand, and the prejudices
inherent to accounts of individual migrants’ experiences on the other. There are moments when the pace of Harper’s narrative overtakes the provision of detail, though such brevity is established from the outset as a necessity given that the
aim of the text is not to provide an exhaustive history but instead to contribute to the ‘patchy tapestry’ (p. 16) of the Scottish diaspora. This approach is ultimately successful, and Scotland No More? achieves an overriding impression of the
cacophony of voices of millions of Scottish migrants now dispersed around the globe.
A review of: Robert Crawford, Bannockburns: Scottish Independence and Literary Imagination, 1314-2014. (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2014) ISBN 978-0-7486-8584-4, Paperback, 288pp. £19.99. Robert Crawford’s Bannockburns:... more
A review of: Robert Crawford, Bannockburns: Scottish Independence and Literary Imagination, 1314-2014.
(Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2014) ISBN 978-0-7486-8584-4, Paperback, 288pp. £19.99.

Robert Crawford’s Bannockburns: Scottish Independence and Literary Imagination, 1314-2014 offers a timely perspective on the Scottish independence debate, as seen through the lens of various literary portrayals of the battle of Bannockburn (23-24 June, 1314). Bannockburn has just passed its 700th anniversary, and Scotland is soon to meet another historical milestone with the independence referendum set for 18 September 2014. It is clear that Bannockburns was written with both of these events in mind, and at times Crawford’s prose has an anticipatory edge, almost as if the author was holding his breath in expectation of the next, as yet unwritten, chapter in Scotland’s independence narrative. Crawford acknowledges that Bannockburns is intended for general consumption and that the tone and content were kept intentionally simplistic in order to be accessible to more than one audience. With this in mind, as well as the fortuitous date of release, it is tempting to dismiss Bannockburns as a persuasive, yet undeniably politicised, opportunist exercise. Viewed from another angle, however, the text is itself a contribution to the very narrative it sets out to survey, and Crawford is the latest in a long line of chroniclers, poets, playwrights, novelists and historians to use Bannockburn as a vehicle to navigate the contemporary politics of their own times.

Bannockburns follows a vaguely chronological order, opening with medieval and early modern accounts of the battle, and proceeding through to the twentieth and twenty-first centuries to conclude with the 2013 inscription of a Kathleen Jamie poem around the rotunda beam at Bannockburn battlefield. At times the narrative wanders off the path and out of sight of the fourteenth-century battle, concerning itself instead with the pursuit of literary expressions of Scottish independence in
its various guises. This is particularly true of chapter four, which charts the works of ‘difficult modern Scots’ such as Hugh MacDiarmid, the contributions of Hamish Henderson and the Scottish folk revival, and the impact of publications such as The Modern Scot magazine (helmed by James H. Whyte), amongst other things. Scottish nationalism in the early twentieth century was eccentric, Crawford notes, and while this period saw the rise of organised nationalist politics, it also saw the emergence of a ‘Modernist literary spikiness’ (p. 133) that captured the Scottish independence movement in abstract, avant-garde forms. Far more overt in content and intention are the medieval and early modern accounts, which Crawford considers in chapter one and two, and it is here that readers expecting a straight-forward assessment of literary portrayals of Bannockburn will find satisfaction.

There are several overarching themes interspersed throughout Bannockburns, and Crawford considers issues of gender and religion alongside that of politics and literary genre. One of the most interesting of these analytical threads is Crawford’s observation that literary accounts of Bannockburn have consistently been informed by the contemporary issues of the day. The Battle of Flodden (1513) occurred almost two hundred years after Bannockburn and it resulted in a dramatically different outcome, for instance, and Crawford ponders how this
event might have impacted the reception of Blind Hary’s Wallace (1470s) or the composition of John Mair’s Historia majoris Britanniae tam Angliae quam Scotiae (1521). This thread emerges again with events such as the unification of
the crowns under James VI and I in 1603 and the union of the parliaments in 1707; and Crawford notes that the portrayal of Bannockburn began to shift towards the tastes of an increasingly ‘British’ audience. The influence of Jacobitism on the Bannockburn narrative is observed through eighteenth-century works of men such as Robert Fergusson, William Hamilton and, of course, Robert Burns, whom Crawford suggests was careful in the concealment of the more ‘dangerous’ elements of his patriotic tendencies. Burns was also influenced by contemporary events outside Scotland’s borders, Crawford notes, such as the American Declaration of Independence of 1776 and the French Revolution, and both of these events may well have contributed to Burns’ well-known
Bannockburn composition Scots Wha Hae (alternatively Robert Bruce’s March to Bannockburn) of 1793. Crawford’s text demonstrates the frequency with which Bannockburn is repurposed for modern audiences and events, and in doing so it invites the reader to question whether the battle’s real victory is one that is realised with every subsequent retelling and new audience.

One of the strengths of Bannockburns is its consideration of the position of poets and authors within the broader discourse on Scottish independence, and it is this theme above all others that unites Crawford’s text. This is an interesting question, and one that perhaps Crawford is not best placed to answer given his closeness to the subject himself. Chapter five, which incorporates figures such as Edwin Morgan, Gregory Burke, James Robertson and Liz Lochhead, places this issue in its contemporary context. How might works such as Lochhead’s Mary Queen of Scots Got Her Head Chopped Off (1987) and Morgan’s Lines for Wallace (2004) contribute to this debate, and what role, if any, do these writers play in generating
discussion? Crawford does not offer any definitive answer, though in the final pages of the chapter he notes that Bannockburns was not written with the intention of insisting ‘that all a country’s writers should engage with one specific
political issue’, but instead that ‘over the centuries authors from Scotland and beyond have engaged with Scottish independence […and] designedly or not, all have played a part in constructing a resilient and adaptable “political imaginary”’
(p. 232). Bannockburns walks a fine line between these two aims, and at times the distinction becomes clouded, perhaps, in part, because the narrative terminates while several contributing factors remain unclear (the battle’s 700th anniversary had not occurred when the book was published, the new Bannockburn Battlefield Visitor Centre had not yet opened, and the independence referendum not yet been held). Bannockburns achieves Crawford’s aim of being accessible, and it certainly draws attention to the intersections between Scottish nationalism, literary works and politics. In publishing Bannockburns before the 2014 referendum rather than after, however, Crawford has inevitably contributed to the same landscape of literary imaginings that his book set out to survey. If the plural ‘Bannockburns’ of the book’s title are any indication, it is possible Crawford foresaw this outcome and the impossibility of his position in the midst of the debate, and proceeded in the expectation that there will be future versions of the Bannockburn story in addition to his own.
Previous chapters in this thesis have considered the intersection of identity and politics through built heritage, first on a domestic level and then from the point of view of bilateral diplomacy. This is not the complete picture,... more
Previous chapters in this thesis have considered the intersection of identity and politics through built heritage, first on a domestic level and then from the point of view of bilateral diplomacy. This is not the complete picture, however, as the sizeable Scottish diaspora also has a stake in the promotion of Scottishness. In this chapter the analysis turns toward this dispersed community, focussing in particular on its presence in the Canadian province of Nova Scotia, where people have made a past-time and a living out of the Scottish narrative. Throughout the province there are Scottish-themed tourist attractions and annual events, many residents still claim Scottish descent, and a small percentage continue to speak the Gaelic language. The intensity with which Nova Scotia markets its Scottishness is deceptive, however, as the history of the province’s settlement reveals that the Scottish migrants, though certainly numerous, were not especially prominent except for a few decades during the nineteenth century, and once in Nova Scotia they typically assimilated quickly. As will shortly be discussed, evidence of this assimilation is apparent in the eighteenth and nineteenth century architecture of the region, which shows an almost universal adoption of a timber-framed New England Georgian hybrid amongst settler communities regardless of their ethnic or cultural background. Nova Scotia might claim a Scottish past and might promote its Scottishness in the present, but as historian Ian McKay has convincingly argued, this notion was not introduced until the post-war period and as such the architectural heritage of the region does not endorse this identity in the way modern Nova Scotians and tourists might expect. The ‘Scottish’ architecture that is now identified in Nova Scotia is instead the result of translation and integration with other cultural activities; the Scottishness is enhanced and performed, making visible what would otherwise be invisible.
There has been a great wealth of academic analysis on the Scottish diaspora in Nova Scotia, but very little on its architecture and even less on its built heritage. This chapter offers a new dimension to the discourse by exploring the importance of performance (such as the integration and display of the Gaelic language, the exhibition of rural practices and craft traditions, and the staging of regular concerts, ceilidhs and milling frolics) in emphasising the Scottishness of a site.
In September 2013 the Scottish Government announced the scheduling of four ‘Focus Years,’ including a Year dedicated to ‘History, Heritage and Archaeology,’ that would “support and drive Scotland’s tourism and events industries.” First... more
In September 2013 the Scottish Government announced the scheduling of four ‘Focus Years,’ including a Year dedicated to ‘History, Heritage and Archaeology,’ that would “support and drive Scotland’s tourism and events industries.” First Minister Alex Salmond explained the choice of themes, suggesting that “Scotland’s incredible influence on the world has encouraged invention, inspired creativity and fired the imagination of generations.” The implementation of ‘Focus Years’ had already been successful, Salmond and other Government representatives alleged, and it was logical to use such a strategy to promote Scotland’s “fabulous food and drink, history, architecture and heritage” as these were the things international visitors were “keen to learn more about.” These claims are not without grounds: Scotland’s global cultural reach has been documented in academic discourse (as was discussed in earlier chapters of this thesis), and rankings such as those published by the Anholt–GfK Roper Nation Brands Index place Scotland highly in terms of international perceptions of the nation’s tourism and heritage industries. In the recently released Historic Environment Strategy for Scotland (2014), Fiona Hyslop (Cabinet Secretary for Culture and External Affairs) made the Government’s perception of the connection between Scotland’s cultural heritage and its global reputation even more explicit. “Scotland is internationally renowned for the quality and diversity of its historic environment,” she suggested, and people “have long placed a high value on it” in part because of the “contribution it makes to a modern, dynamic and flourishing Scotland.”

The Government’s ambition for heritage projects such as Bannockburn Battlefield Visitor Centre and the Robert Burns Birthplace Museum to be received positively on the at a global level has already been noted in this thesis, but this is not the only avenue that Scottish authorities have used to promote Scottish heritage in recent years. The analysis can now turn to instances in which Scottish authorities (the Scottish Government and heritage agencies) have engaged with built heritage outside the nation’s borders, either for the sites’ historical connections to Scotland (as is the case with several built heritage sites in the Indian city of Kolkata that have had Scottish support since 2008) or for their desirability as symbols of Scotland’s contemporary diplomatic partnerships (as with the five international sites selected for inclusion in the Scottish Ten digital heritage scanning initiative). As this chapter will shortly demonstrate, these international built heritage engagements are intended to promote Scotland and narratives of modernity and progress; where they differ from the domestic examples mentioned in earlier chapters is in their processes and outcomes. It is also important to note that in order to be effective acts of cultural diplomacy, these international engagements must draw on or emphasis an aspect of Scottishness: in some instances, as will shortly be discussed, this identity is embedded in the history of the individual heritage sites; in others the Scottishness is perceived as a behaviour.
The built heritage sector in Scotland has undergone significant changes over the past two decades, in both its governance and its organisation. Earlier chapters in this thesis touched on some of these developments, and also highlighted... more
The built heritage sector in Scotland has undergone significant changes over the past two decades, in both its governance and its organisation. Earlier chapters in this thesis touched on some of these developments, and also highlighted the effects felt by the sector as a result of the devolution of the Scottish Parliament and Government in 1999. The present chapter builds on this discussion by analysing in greater detail two recent projects, the Robert Burns Birthplace Museum (2007-2011) and Bannockburn Battlefield Visitor Centre (2009-2014), which were undertaken at existing heritage sites of national significance to Scotland. As will shortly be shown, these projects received support from the Scottish Government and the Heritage Lottery Fund (HLF), and have played important roles in recent Scottish public events such as the 2009 and 2014 Year of Homecoming programmes. They also involved the construction of substantial new buildings and exhibition spaces. This chapter explores the projects’ histories and analyses their outcomes in terms of design and narrative, and in doing so it considers the ways in which both of these projects promote a specific perception of Scottishness through new design in historic landscapes. The Robert Burns Birthplace Museum and Bannockburn Battlefield Visitor Centre represent sites with starkly different histories: the former serves to interpret and exhibit the life and works of poet Robert Burns (1759-1796), and the latter works to commemorate and interpret the 1314 victory of Scottish forces over the English just south of Stirling Castle. Despite their different historical contexts and connotations, the recent projects undertaken at both sites have favoured a similar overarching narrative, the expression of the Scottish nation (and its people) as progressive, egalitarian and culturally distinct. This chapter investigates the contemporary significance of this narrative at both sites, and in doing so the combined effects of the politicisation of Scottishness and the politicisation of the built heritage sector are thrown into greater relief.
In a speech entitled ‘Past, Present and Future: Culture and heritage in an independent Scotland’ that she delivered at the Talbot Rice Gallery at the University of Edinburgh in June 2013, Fiona Hyslop (Cabinet Secretary for Culture and... more
In a speech entitled ‘Past, Present and Future: Culture and heritage in an independent Scotland’ that she delivered at the Talbot Rice Gallery at the University of Edinburgh in June 2013, Fiona Hyslop (Cabinet Secretary for Culture and External Affairs) suggested that Scotland’s heritage and culture could not be reduced to a single description or image because Scotland and the Scottish people were diverse and complex. In speaking about the heritage landscape, Hyslop noted there was not one particular motif or event that defined Scotland, because "the connections and threads between our past, our present and our future are flexible and fluid; we both take and create meaning when we look deep into the history of our nation, shaped by those who have settled here and those who have left for faraway shores; our connections with other countries, other peoples all linked by these threads connecting people, forms and ideas."

In this speech, Hyslop claimed a notion of Scottishness unrestrained by borders or ethnicity, a Scottishness driven by ideas and attitudes as much as by birth. She also demonstrated an understanding of Scotland’s heritage that is grounded in the present-day and is active rather than passive: Scotland’s heritage is ‘flexible’, ‘fluid’ and open to new interpretations. There are undercurrents in this speech that are indicative of the Scottish Government’s ambitions for the future (and for the role of heritage in this ambition); and of the Government’s intention to sweep away old stereotypes and unwanted connections in order to create new understandings of Scotland’s national history. Hyslop’s approach to framing and describing Scotland’s heritage makes sense, as it aligns with the type of civic nationalism that the Scottish National Party (SNP) led Scottish Government has been promoting in recent years, and it is flexible enough to cater to different narratives of Scottishness, such as the romanticised variety popular amongst the diaspora and the enlightened variety promoted domestically. This approach to ‘taking and creating meaning’ is explored in more detail in this chapter, bringing together the discourses on Scottish identity and built heritage outlined in previous chapters of this thesis. The form and function of the built heritage sector within Scotland in recent years is outlined here in order to consider the interconnections between built heritage, Scottish politics, and Scottish identity narratives.
The task of defining Scottishness would seem, at least superficially, to be an easy one given its apparent associations with the nation of Scotland, a discernible geopolitical entity within the United Kingdom. It quickly becomes apparent... more
The task of defining Scottishness would seem, at least superficially, to be an easy one given its apparent associations with the nation of Scotland, a discernible geopolitical entity within the United Kingdom. It quickly becomes apparent upon wading into the extensive discourse on Scottish identity, however, that there are differing ideas about what (or who) Scotland is, where it is, and even when it is – and these ideas are informed by a range of social, economic and political contexts. Has the entity known as ‘Scotland’ faded in and out of public consciousness over time, as R. J. Morris and Graeme Morton have suggested was the case in nineteenth century Scotland, or did it cease to exist altogether when Scotland joined with England in the Union of 1707? Is ‘Scotland’ an imaginary concept that was forged by nineteenth century Romantics and is perpetuated by twenty-first century tourists, or, as Edward J. Cowan and Richard J. Finlay have argued, is it instead an entity that is defined by those who live outside its borders? Is there even such thing as Scotland at all, or is it instead a fragmented region divided into ‘Highland’ and ‘Lowland’ traditions? These questions, though rhetorical, indicate the complexities involved in producing definitions of ‘Scotland’ and ‘Scottishness’ that can be applied universally across time and space. The markers and rules of Scottishness, to borrow a phrase from Richard Kiely and others, are constantly changing, and those elements that we now regard as indicative of Scottish identity may once have been attributed a very different label. Much like earlier contributions to the discourse, the present research is inevitably contextualised by contemporary issues; the forthcoming referendum for Scottish independence (18 September 2014) has brought renewed focus to the concepts of nation and nationality, and to the economic, political and social contexts and outcomes that such concepts are defined within and produce. This chapter builds on the discussion, exploring the processes and parameters of Scottishness in order to highlight the operative relationship between this identity narrative and built heritage at the beginning of the twenty-first century.
The nineteenth century is often associated with architectural revivals and the increasing awareness of the ability of architecture to communicate specific messages. The revival of Tudor architectural styles in nineteenth century Scotland... more
The nineteenth century is often associated with architectural revivals and the increasing awareness of the ability of architecture to communicate specific messages. The revival of Tudor architectural styles in nineteenth century Scotland has not been given much attention by historians, and it is often relegated to the status of a minor trend that was vastly overshadowed by the success of the Neo-Classical, Gothic Revival and Scots Baronial styles. While the use of the Tudor styles in Scotland in this period is acknowledged briefly in publications such as A History of Scottish Architecture and The Gothic Revival 1745-1845,1 it is a movement which has been largely ignored. The lack of attention is understandable – after all, Tudor architecture was perceived by many in the nineteenth century to be ‘English’, and Scotland already had its own national style, that of the Scots Baronial. What will become apparent over the course of this study, however, is that the Tudor Revival genre was used in varying degrees throughout the nineteenth century in Scotland by patriotic Scotsmen, Anglophiles, members of the aristocracy and the nouveaux riche alike. In one of the few texts that acknowledges the Revival in Scotland, James MacAulay notes that “not only was Tudor architecture well established before the close of the second decade of the nineteenth century [but it became] the generally accepted style for a country house.”2 This presents an interesting scenario whereby a style, understood to be ‘English’ by architects, commentators and even clients, was used in significant numbers by several demographic groups in a country that had relatively recently seen major rebellions against the English crown (the Jacobite rebellions of 1715 and 1745 were less than a hundred years passed when many Tudor Revival buildings began to spring up across the Scottish countryside). It will be the aim of this study to determine the extent of the styles use, to discuss the reasons for the success of the Tudor Revival in Scotland, to identify the people who adopted the styles (both architects and clients), and to consider the contemporary reactions to the styles use.
In the Victorian period there was an increase in interest in the historical pursuit brought on by the alienating effects of industrialization, modernization, and the rise of the middle class. In a time of great societal and environmental... more
In the Victorian period there was an increase in interest in the historical pursuit brought on by the alienating effects of industrialization, modernization, and the rise of the middle class. In a time of great societal and environmental change, the Victorians sought not only to re-establish their bonds with the English past, but to escape the present and seek guidance for the future. Moreover, the Victorians pursued an historical identity which justified their present position as a colonial power, and which celebrated their Protestant pride. The Tudor period was the obvious historical solution, as it had set the precedent for England as a naval nation, and had seen the establishment of the Anglican Church. As such, the Tudor era took a prominent position in the popular historical mindset of the Victorians. This earlier period in England’s history also came to be used as a means of emphasizing Victorian ideals, such as the relationship between the concept of ‘Englishness,’ domesticity and the rural landscape. Moreover, the well-known historical figures of the Tudor years, such as Henry VIII, Elizabeth I, Mary Stuart and Sir Francis Drake, were used by the Victorians as the champions of nineteenth-century causes. Henry and Elizabeth were ‘Englishness’ and Protestantism personified, whilst Mary Stuart displayed all the hallmarks of romanticized femininity, and Sir Francis Drake was the hero of the imperialist dream.

Ultimately the Tudor era was utilized by the Victorians as a portion of the English past which legitimized the attitudes and aspirations of the present. The period came to stand for the very concept of an English identity, and as such it was frequently revisited by Victorian popular historians, journalists, children’s authors, artists and architects as a source for patriotic inspiration.
Open air museums (or living history museums, or outdoor museums) originated in the late nineteenth century out of the fear that folk architecture and traditional crafts were being lost to modernisation. These museums, which were typically... more
Open air museums (or living history museums, or outdoor museums) originated in the late nineteenth century out of the fear that folk architecture and traditional crafts were being lost to modernisation. These museums, which were typically created by transporting historic buildings and equipment from around a region or nation, were seen as a solution to this threat. The popularity of this museum type has not waned, and there are now a few thousand museums of this kind globally. Many received buildings donated by private individuals, as well as from local authorities needing to relocate structures to make way for new infrastructure or development. Though sometimes anachronous and spatially inaccurate, there is value in such buildings being grouped together, as it allows people to experience a region’s geography and history in one place. As with traditional museums, there is an assumption that the structures and artefacts at open air museums are ‘safe’, and will remain accessible to the public in perpetuity.

This paper questions this assumption by looking to numerous global examples of open air museums that have either closed indefinitely or been dismantled and demolished, beginning with the Abbey Folk Museum (England, closed 1930s) and extending through to sites closed in the past decade. This paper reflects on the responsibilities of museum curators, and the (perhaps unreasonable) expectations of donors and the visiting public. The small-scale, volunteer-driven and not-for-profit nature of many of these institutions is highlighted, as are their precarious operating budgets. Finally, the future of structures held by defunct or at-risk museums is considered: should ‘authentic’ heritage structures relocated to these sites be treated differently than their reconstructed/replica structures? In raising these questions, this paper calls for a rethink of the open air museum model, and argues it was perhaps never the ‘solution’ it seemed to be.
In 1963, two landmarks—a Big Banana (Coffs Harbour, NSW), and a Big Scotsman (Adelaide, SA)—were constructed. This marked the beginning of a vernacular architectural/kitsch phenomenon, and by 2019, over 400 ‘Big Things’ had been built or... more
In 1963, two landmarks—a Big Banana (Coffs Harbour, NSW), and a Big Scotsman (Adelaide, SA)—were constructed. This marked the beginning of a vernacular architectural/kitsch phenomenon, and by 2019, over 400 ‘Big Things’ had been built or planned Australia-wide. The boom period was undoubtedly the 1980s when Australiana dominated popular culture and events, but over the past decade we have been in the midst of revival. This paper explores shifting trends in the ‘type’ of Big Things being built in Australia, and in doing so, will argue that this ‘home-made’ tradition has more recently become the domain of regional councils and tourism authorities. Is the tongue-in-cheek self-awareness of the Big Bogan (Nyngan, NSW, 2015) and slick folksiness of the Big Watermelon Slice (Chinchilla, QLD, 2018) a sign of Australian cultural maturity, or of a push for commercialised and distinctive regional identities?
Fast-food restaurants are typified by motifs that operate as brands: bold, primary colours; trade-marked mascots and fonts, and large (and often plastic) signs or symbols. The primary goal of the fast-food restaurant's façade is to... more
Fast-food restaurants are typified by motifs that operate as brands: bold, primary colours; trade-marked mascots and fonts, and large (and often plastic) signs or symbols. The primary goal of the fast-food restaurant's façade is to convince passers-by to stop, enter and consume. Moreover, with the emergence-and rapid spread-of franchises in the U.S. from the 1920s, the importance of communicating the 'brand' (and thus, the notion of predictable and universal dining experiences) has become paramount to their success. We have become accustomed to seeing these complexes by highways, in city malls and on urban intersections; we seem to have accepted the cacophony of symbols, signs, colours and play areas as inextricable from the notion of fast-food itself.

While in most scenarios fast-food restaurants operate with few restrictions, within heritage structures (often situated in historic precincts heavily populated by tourist foot-traffic) visual cues must be stripped away. In this scenario, maintaining heritage façades and the historic aesthetic of the streetscape, as well as allowing tourists to 'travel back in time,' overrides the perceived need of the fast-food chain to signal its existence to consumers. In this paper, we aim to explore the paradox emerging when "the non-conventional expanded Pop architecture of hamburger bars and fast food restaurants," as Reyner Banham defined "Fantastic," the second of his four architectures of Los Angeles, invades heritage buildings. No matter how well hidden the golden arches 'M' might be-in both Australian and international examples-customers still find it: how, and why?
The Scottish National Party (SNP) was elected into government in 2007, and in 2011 announced plans for an independence referendum. The SNP Government implemented substantial cultural and heritage projects-many of which showcased the long... more
The Scottish National Party (SNP) was elected into government in 2007, and in 2011 announced plans for an independence referendum. The SNP Government implemented substantial cultural and heritage projects-many of which showcased the long history of Scottish-English animosity. In the accompanying political rhetoric, it was clear that the SNP was utilising history for the independence campaign. The 2014 Referendum ultimately resulted in Scotland's retention of the Union, though the SNP has remained in power. The Scottish-British relationship was further tested in 2016, however, with the UK Referendum on leaving the EU. All Scottish electorates voted in favour of remaining, and the chasm between Scottish and British identities and future trajectories has since widened further. This paper will compare the SNP's promotion of nationalist historical narratives prior to the 2014 Referendum with subsequent cultural and heritage initiatives in light of Brexit. In doing so, the centrality of nationalist histories in contemporary Scottish politics will be highlighted.
School sports houses have been a feature of the Australian school system for over a century, spreading from private boarding colleges and universities in the 1910s-1920s into the public system (both primary and secondary) to become nearly... more
School sports houses have been a feature of the Australian school system for over a century, spreading from private boarding colleges and universities in the 1910s-1920s into the public system (both primary and secondary) to become nearly universal in the present day. While some schools implemented ‘houses’ as a way to encourage cohort bonding and to facilitate pastoral care, this approach—sorting students of all year levels into rival houses and using a points system to encourage competition—has also created an atmosphere of tribalism that now permeates the Australian schooling experience.

Since their inception, school sports houses in Australia have typically been named after prominent historical figures (local, national, sporting, religious and cultural), geographic features, native flora and fauna, mythical figures from the Ancient world, indigenous places and words, and the four elements (earth, water, air, fire). Many schools allocate a colour to each house, and since the 1970s it has become increasingly common to see the use of mascots  (typically animals, but sometimes weaponry, meteorology or more abstract ideas like ‘courage’ and ‘determination’). Most Australians born in the post-war era have experienced sports houses themselves, or have seen this tribalism through the eyes of their children and grandchildren. It is a national and increasingly intergenerational phenomenon, and yet at its core the house system relies upon and encourages a kind of hyperlocalism that is triggered by specific combinations of names and figures, colours, and mascots.

This paper examines the cultural history of school sports houses in Australia (and particularly Queensland), and reflects on local, regional and national patterns of socio-cultural identity as expressed through what is essentially a modern form of heraldry. Data collected from over 450 Queensland public and private high schools reveals geographic and generational trends in house name selection and associated identity narratives and values. This research builds upon existing discourses regarding sporting and cultural identities in Australian history, and in doing so highlights the way local communities come to embody or adopt aspects of broader historical narratives through school sports. While of limited significance in isolation, these local performances of identity can be understood as parts of an Australia-wide network that has expanded with and reacted to socio-cultural developments over time. This allows new facets of debates concerning postcolonialism and sovereignty, globalism, environmentalism, gender, race, and Australia’s preoccupation with sporting ‘heroes’ to emerge.
In 2008, sixty-one years after India’s independence from British rule, Scottish heritage professionals began an ambitious project to revive a neglected cemetery in Kolkata (formerly Calcutta) with the backing of both the Scottish and West... more
In 2008, sixty-one years after India’s independence from British rule, Scottish heritage professionals began an ambitious project to revive a neglected cemetery in Kolkata (formerly Calcutta) with the backing of both the Scottish and West Bengal governments.  As the final resting place of over 1,500 Scots who lived and worked in Kolkata during the British colonial period, the cemetery was deemed of significant cultural and historical importance to Scotland.  Shortly after work was begun on the conservation of the cemetery, Scotland and West Bengal took a further step to foster increased heritage partnerships, signing a Memorandum of Understanding which was intended to facilitate Scottish involvement in additional conservation projects in Kolkata. 

This paper will discuss the notion of transnational heritage with specific reference to Scotland’s on-going interests in Kolkata, and will highlight the role these heritage projects play in the broader political interests held by Scotland.  This paper will argue that in recent years Scotland has sought to establish (or re-establish) a distinct cultural identity separate from the United Kingdom, and that cultural diplomacy – in this instance the instigation and support of transnational heritage projects – has been viewed as a favourable method for fostering positive international relations with key partner countries such as India.  In recognising the political context in which the Scottish heritage projects in Kolkata have been established, this paper will go on to address the notion of collective or shared identity, noting the important role that the Kolkata Scottish Heritage Trust has played in ensuring bilateral involvement in the conservation projects in Kolkata.
In 2009 the Scottish Government launched the Scottish Ten initiative, a digital heritage programme that was driven by advancements in 3D scanning technology. The aim of the Scottish Ten was to document Scotland’s five UNESCO World... more
In 2009 the Scottish Government launched the Scottish Ten initiative, a digital heritage programme that was driven by advancements in 3D scanning technology. The aim of the Scottish Ten was to document Scotland’s five UNESCO World Heritage Sites as well as an additional five international heritage sites, the latter group being determined by the Government’s diplomatic agenda. Four of these international sites have now been scanned: Mt Rushmore (U.S.), Rani Ki Vav Stepwell (India), Eastern Qing Tombs (China), and the Sydney Opera House (Australia); the fifth international site, Nagasaki Giant Cantilever Crane (Japan), was announced in August 2014. The Scottish Government have recently instigated a second digital heritage project, the scanning of the Scottish conservationist John Muir’s homes in Scotland and California, and while this project is separate to the Scottish Ten it utilises the same technology and is accompanied by similar diplomatic rhetoric.

The Scottish Government favours the use of these kinds of diplomatic engagements as an important part of its soft power agenda; under the devolution agreement Scotland is not permitted to engage independently in foreign affairs, but cultural and educational initiatives provide a loop-hole through which Scotland is able to forge international partnerships. The Scottish Government has acknowledged that the Scottish Ten initiative is part of a broader diplomatic agenda, and that the international sites included in the Ten are selected on the basis of their countries’ contributions to Scottish ambitions. The demonstration of Scottish expertise in the field of heritage documentation has also been a driving factor in these international engagements, as the Scottish Government is keen to promote its position at the forefront of what Scottish First Minister Alex Salmond refers to as the ‘digital diplomacy’ movement.

These examples of digital heritage initiatives undertaken on an international scale raise a number of questions, and this paper will use the Scottish examples as a basis for highlighting several key issues that warrant further exploration. What are the benefits of digital heritage diplomacy to the instigating and recipient nations (or communities), and are these benefits short- or long-term? What are the risks, and how do these differ between instigating and recipient nations (or communities)? What role should international agencies such as UNESCO play in the governance and ongoing management of these digital programmes, or is it possible that these kinds of programmes circumvent the likes of UNESCO altogether? This paper aims to draw attention to an emerging area of heritage diplomacy, and in doing so, to foster discussion on the existing frameworks of governance and their ability to manage such diplomatic agendas in the future.
The past decade has seen a proliferation of digital heritage organisations and initiatives gaining media coverage and industry acclaim for their efforts. When news cycles are filled with reports of war, unchecked climate change, conflict,... more
The past decade has seen a proliferation of digital heritage organisations and initiatives gaining media coverage and industry acclaim for their efforts. When news cycles are filled with reports of war, unchecked climate change, conflict, and unstable economic systems, the use of digital documentation and reproduction to ‘protect’ cultural heritage offers a glimmer of hope for increasingly dark times. The fear of slow, incremental loss that propelled heritage conservation over past centuries has evolved into a paralysing mix of desperation and resignation: we are more aware than ever that heritage can—and will—be destroyed more rapidly today by natural and manmade forces, regardless of diplomatic and industry protests to the contrary. Digital documentation and 3D printing technologies have flourished in this anxious atmosphere; the optimistic rhetoric that surrounds these programmes offers reassurance that heritage will be ‘saved’ for all humankind, present and future. For precisely this reason, digital documentation, archiving and replication have been launched into with altruistic aplomb by government bodies, heritage institutions and philanthropic organisations. However, its application and utility in preserving, protecting or reconstructing built heritage remains largely untested, and carries with it risks that may ultimately undermine the practice altogether.
The rights of the state to protect heritage within its borders, to ratify international conventions, and to cooperate in bilateral engagements, have been foundational concepts of heritage governance. Extreme circumstances may result in an... more
The rights of the state to protect heritage within its borders, to ratify international conventions, and to cooperate in bilateral engagements, have been foundational concepts of heritage governance. Extreme circumstances may result in an intervention by non-State parties, but in times of peace it is typically the state that prevails. Drawing from recent efforts (2000s) of the Australian Federal Government to create a 'List of Overseas Places of Historic Significance to Australia', this paper explores the complications that can arise from the privileging of state authority in current approaches to heritage. This serves as a point of departure for considering the more widely applicable contradictions, limitations and loopholes of a global approach that favours the 'state', and the ramifications this might have for heritage diplomacy.
Sport plays an important role in the conception of Australian national identity. Much of the scholarly work on this topic has concentrated on professional, high-profile sports and athletes. In this article, we draw attention to a highly... more
Sport plays an important role in the conception of Australian national identity. Much of the scholarly work on this topic has concentrated on professional, high-profile sports and athletes. In this article, we draw attention to a highly symbolic aspect of popular sporting culture-school sports houses-and the prominent historical figures and motifs that they project through their team names, mascots and colours. School sports houses are potent examples of banal nationalism, whereby elements of Australianness are reinforced through the tradition of school athletics and swimming carnivals. Here, we highlight the overlap between the school-based agenda of encouraging group identity and the broader notion of the nation as an imagined community. Using a comprehensive dataset of Queensland high school sport houses in 1969 and 2023, we observe several trends, such as the persistence of houses named after colonial explorers and the disparity between houses with women's and men's namesakes. We consider the role of school sports houses as "identity primers", or scripts, that encourage schoolchildren to identify with specific historic figures, landforms, animal totems, character traits and other qualities as indicators of the region and nation in which they live.
The highly visible yet poorly studied phenomenon of roadside colossi-oversized commercial buildings and statues in the shape of everyday objects, referred to in this article as Big Thingshas often been dismissed as a kitschy by-product of... more
The highly visible yet poorly studied phenomenon of roadside colossi-oversized commercial buildings and statues in the shape of everyday objects, referred to in this article as Big Thingshas often been dismissed as a kitschy by-product of American postwar consumerism and car culture. There are no universal definitions or typologies for this form of material culture, nor is there a sufficiently global history that explains the origin, spread and contemporary popularity of these landmarks. In this article, I address these gaps in the discourse, drawing attention to the rich yet largely untapped theoretical underpinnings of Big Things. In doing so, I highlight the potential for further study of these landmarks as material evidence of broader socio-cultural impulses, particularly in communities across North America and Australia, where Big Things can be found in their greatest numbers.
Sport biographies and autobiographies are popular among the general public and a prominent feature of the sport sections of Australian bookshops and libraries. This chapter reflects on the popularity of this genre, and particularly on the... more
Sport biographies and autobiographies are popular among the general public and a prominent feature of the sport sections of Australian bookshops and libraries. This chapter reflects on the popularity of this genre, and particularly on the overarching messages that are communicated through the variety of, and display methods for, these books in such spaces. Drawing upon our professional experience, academic discourse on library management and book publishing, and data taken from an informal survey of bookshops and libraries in Brisbane (Queensland, Australia), we consider how, why, and what the composition of sport shelves represent in terms of sport within society today. The continued obfuscation of women athletes is noted, as are some of the broader commercial and institutional pressures that impact the ways in which bookshops and libraries operate. We conclude this chapter by contemplating the agency that book consumers might exercise over bookshelves, particularly via social media hashtags such as #sportshelfie.
Nation-themed retail, hospitality, and entertainment spaces are a valuable yet underutilised resource for the analysis of national stereotypes and dominant brand narratives. When such spaces operate outside the borders of the nation upon... more
Nation-themed retail, hospitality, and entertainment spaces are a valuable yet underutilised resource for the analysis of national stereotypes and dominant brand narratives. When such spaces operate outside the borders of the nation upon which they are themed, they can be interpreted as presenting a ‘stage’ national identity: one that is understood as being unreal, and yet simultaneously hyperreal. This article explores the visual signifiers (e.g. décor, displayed products, promotional materials) and consumption opportunities (e.g. food, drink, cultural events) at 110 Scottish-themed pubs, bars, and restaurants located outside of Scotland’s borders. In doing so, it highlights how national historical narratives, symbols, and motifs are commercialised by and for people outside that nation, often to the extent that outdated views are perpetuated, stereotypes are exacerbated, and the signifiers of other nations are absorbed and/or hybridised. This has potential impacts inside said nation, too: on the tourism industry, food and drink sector, and on the nation’s ability to attract and retain the interest of outside investment and skilled migrants, among other things. This research thus draws attention to the complex role(s) of nation-themed spaces in overseas settings, particularly in mediating and—in some instances, contradicting—the collective and commercial identities and/or official (government-endorsed) brands of the nation being displayed for consumption.
Big Things—oversized three-dimensional representations of everyday objects, often situated on the roadside—have received minimal academic attention to date, despite being a popular phenomenon across several countries including Australia... more
Big Things—oversized three-dimensional representations of everyday objects, often situated on the roadside—have received minimal academic attention to date, despite being a popular phenomenon across several countries including Australia and Canada. Sometimes dismissed as “lowbrow” or commercialised art forms, they are, in fact, landmarks that can be investigated as material evidence of the identities and values of the communities—local, regional and national—who build, maintain and visit them. This article takes a comparative approach to the 1,075 Big Things in Australia and 1,250 in Canada, revealing chronological, geographical and typological trends that highlight the capacity of these structures to represent their surrounding regions. In doing so, this article also demonstrates the value to be gained through studying Big Things as networks of meaning that evolve over time, reflecting the changing nature of their host societies.
Open-air museums are commonplace in many parts of the world, with hundreds dotting the landscapes of Europe and North America, and a smaller but not insignificant assortment throughout Asia and Oceania. These are places in which a... more
Open-air museums are commonplace in many parts of the world, with hundreds dotting the landscapes of Europe and North America, and a smaller but not insignificant assortment throughout Asia and Oceania. These are places in which a selection of buildings, often with an overarching theme, are curated in a landscaped environment and then exhibited to the visiting public. While this may seem a relatively niche format, there is a surprising degree of variety among open-air museums. They can be understood as both museum collections and heritage sites, which reveals the difficulty in categorising them in museological terms, as well as in differing approaches to conservation and display. Some are based on an original group of in-situ structures in an historic landscape and may have added replicas or reconstructions of other buildings and infrastructure to the site in order to create a fuller 'picture'. Others comprise relocated buildings and replicas, brought together in a staged outdoor environment to form a collection that illustrates a particular theme, while others still are complete reconstructions of an earlier environment, sometimes based on remnant archaeological or documentary evidence. Villages, forts, gold mining towns, and rural settlements are common forms of open-air museums, as is the organisation of the museum around buildings and structures of a specific time period, or those associated with a particular culture. The underlying purposes of open-air museums vary too, though in recent decades they have generally had conservation, education (and/or research), entertainment--or some combination of these--as their focus. All of these factors must be considered when attempting, as this chapter does, to make generalised observations about the evolving relationship between open-air museums and architectural heritage, particularly with regards to the value of architecture itself to open-air museum operations. Despite the great variety of open-air museums, there are some obvious common issues and trends that warrant greater reflection, and all revolve to some extent around the growing desire of these museums to attract visitors.
Australia’s laid-back, sun-drenched beach lifestyle has been a celebrated and prominent part of its official popular culture for nigh on a century, and the images and motifs associated with this culture have become hallmarks of the... more
Australia’s laid-back, sun-drenched beach lifestyle has been a celebrated and prominent part of its official popular culture for nigh on a century, and the images and motifs associated with this culture have become hallmarks of the country’s collective identity. Though these representations tend towards stereotype, for many Australians the idea of a summer holiday at the beach is one that is intensely personal and romanticised – its image is not at all urbanised. As Douglas Booth observed, for Australians the beach has become a ‘sanctuary at which to abandon cares – a place to let down one’s hair, remove one’s clothes […] a paradise where one could laze in peace, free from guilt, drifting between the hot sand and the warm sea, and seek romance’.1 Beach holidays became popular in the interwar years of the twentieth century, but the most intense burst of activity – both in touristic promotion and in the development of tourism infrastructure – accompanied the postwar economic boom, when family incomes were able to meet the cost of a car and, increasingly, a cheap block of land by the beach upon which a holiday home could be erected with thrift and haste. In subtropical southeast Queensland, the postwar beach holiday became the hallmark of the state’s burgeoning tourism industry; the state’s southeast coastline in particular benefiting from its warm climate and proximity to the capital, Brisbane. It was here – along the evocatively named Gold Coast (to Brisbane’s south) and Sunshine Coast (to its north) [1] – that many families experienced their first taste of what is now widely celebrated as the beach lifestyle [2]. As one reflection has it:

In the era before motels and resorts, a holiday at the Gold and Sunshine coasts usually meant either pitching a tent and camping by the beach or staying in a simple cottage owned by family or friends […] Simplicity, informality, individuality […] were the hallmarks of these humble places.