Downloaded By: [University of Virginia] At: 15:37 25 September 2007 From industry to culture: leftovers, time and material transformation in four contemporary museums Phoebe Crisman University of Virginia, School of Architecture, Charlottesville, VA 22904 USA Introduction Contemporary western cities are, to differing degrees, populated by derelict, dirty and toxic archi- tecture resulting from prior manufacturing activities. Leftover places of industrial production have often been transformed into art museums and other cul- tural venues through various processes of cleansing and conversion as well as rebuilding, but relatively little has been written about the underlying attitudes towards accumulations of dirt and leftover materials which often feature in such projects. ‘Dirtiness’ is broadly conceived to include architectural palimp- sest, imperfection, and even the problems of pre- vious social or economic inequities. As a practising architect, I am particularly interested in the different design strategies employed in converting such industrial buildings and spaces, and ultimately their outcome as experienced by museum visitors. What does it mean, for example, when surfaces are scrubbed clean, or when layers of grime and weath- ered materials are retained? If a building conversion or urban revitalisation project are considered as preservation, what is it that is being preserved — the physical stuff of the architecture, the cultural significance of the place, or the palpable material traces of the passing of time and inhabitants? Although enamoured with the idea of conserving and recycling industrial buildings, we are rarely willing to forgo the increasingly high expec- tations of cleanliness and comfort fundamental to contemporary western culture. A simultaneous attraction to the ‘new,’ and to the predictable spaces of global commodity culture, frequently out- weigh the desire to experience old materials and the peculiarities of lived-in spaces intended for earlier functions. When derelict industrial buildings are trans- formed into contemporary art museums, an appetite for pristine cleanliness often prevails. Accumulated and unnecessary features are removed, surfaces are sanitised, and the stigmas of former economic or social disenfranchisement and neglect associated with particular buildings are purposefully forgotten. Can the past be literally erased, however, or do materials insistently record the passage of inhabitants and events? John Ruskin examined questions of memory and historical authenticity in The Seven Lamps of Architecture (1849), where he described architectural restoration as ‘the most total destruction which a building can suffer.’ 1 Ruskin’s argument for architectural conservation was developed at a time when restoration was the accepted method of working with significant old buildings. Following the lead of Viollet-le-Duc (1814–1879), monuments were routinely stripped of accumulated additions and signs of weathering and often radically rebuilt in order to return them to an idealised moment in time. Ruskin argues that the productive and poetic changes induced by physical weathering are lost when the ‘golden stain of time’ is washed away. 2 His scathing critique of these destructive restoration methods greatly influenced William Morris and others, thereby encouraging the creation of Britain’s Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings in 1877. 3 Even today, in the recycling of industrial 405 The Journal of Architecture Volume 12 Number 4 # 2007 The Journal of Architecture 1360–2365 DOI: 10.1080/13602360701614698