On 21 August 1966, the Venice Charter was discussed by Turkey’s High Council for Immovable Historic Works and Monuments (High Council). Within a year, the Charter went into effect in Turkey. It heralded the official alignment of expertise on historic preservation with Europe. Prior to the Charter’s adoption, historic preservation in Turkey had followed outdated approaches all over the country.
The backstory to this movement relied on the efforts of Cevat Erder, who founded one of the earliest training centres in conservation studies in the world at the Middle East Technical University (METU) in Ankara in 1964. He examined the existing courses in Europe and the US and created a new course with the aim of training personnel for architectural conservation. That same year, Cevat Erder and his students translated the Charter within the context of the coursework of the newly established graduate programme. Erder presented the Turkish translation of the Charter to the High Council with the aim of avoiding poor restoration work.
Another translator, Doğan Kuban, translated the Carta del Restauro – the other massively influential preservation document among the European countries – into Turkish in 1961, 30 years after the Carta was published, with the same aim of updating the country’s knowledge regarding preservation. Kuban went on to found the Architectural History and Restoration Institute (AHRI) at Istanbul Technical University (ITU) in 1973. Aside from creating a concrete curriculum to train graduate students of architecture to be experts in preservation, the new institute aimed to establish collaborations with other state offices and institutions, including conducting preservation projects.
This study examines the academic formation of historic preservation in Turkey through the translation of international knowledge. It aims to discuss the agency of the academic institutions in both theoretical and practical fields.
On 23 September1980, the Grand National Assembly of Turkey passed a law establishing the AtatürkCultural Centre. This law aimed to create a building that would highlight and perpetuate the significance of the Turkish Revolution in both Turkish and global history. The building to be designed was intended to emphasise various aspects, including the scale of the revolution, its unifying role, nationalism, secularism, educational principles, Atatürk’s leadership in national independence movements, his world view, his commitment to humanistic values and his advocacy for peace. Therefore, the building was expected to carry the symbolic significance of the revolution, serving as a monument to it and preserving the memory of the revolution. Nevertheless, all of this was envisioned on a completely blank canvas.
In May 1992, the Ministry of Public Affairs released a brief for a design competition. This brief outlined the competition’s goals and described the functional aspects of the construction area, which covered 39,076 square metres. It was indicated that urban planning would be determined after the competition, based on the jury’s assessment of suitable urban and parcelling conditions.
Architecture’s role as a powerful force shaping societies and collective memory due to its materiality is well-established. However, perceiving it as a dynamic tapestry encompassing both remembering and forgetting and as a dialectical mediator of memory is often overlooked.
Therefore, the primary objective of this study is to fill the existing gap in our understanding of the intricate relationship between memory, amnesia and the agency of architecture in shaping memories in terms of the proposed building. This study seeks to establish a framework in the context of architectural-spatial politics and architecture’s agency on amnesty around the controversies of the PresidentialSymphony Orchestra Building during that period.
On 3 February 1825, the fourth “SeptennialFestival held in honour of Bishop Blase” (patron saint of woolcombers) was celebrated in Bradford, in the county of West Riding in the north of England. Celebrations of Bishop Blaise had been held from the early medieval period, in various forms, throughout the country, but as Bradford became the centre of a prosperous and growing worsted (long-wool) industry, there was renewed interest in formally celebrating the saint.
The festival day began with a seven-hour procession of over 800 workers and masters from the industry through significantBradford streets, and concluded in dinners for the apprentices and masters’ sons at one venue, and the spinners, manufacturers and merchants at another. It was a demonstration of the wealth and importance of the industry to the region, and whilst it was claimed to be a day for all classes to celebrate together, the structure of the parade and dinners displayed the hierarchies within the industry.
On the day of the festival, King George’s opening of Parliament also took place. His words on the prosperity of the nation(and of all classes) were echoed during the festival dinner speeches, which were congratulatory in tone and revealed much about how the industry had changed over the previous seven years and how it would change in the coming years. The 1825 festival was the grandest of the 19th century iterations and was thought to be the last “public demonstration” of the festival – a knowing declaration, as 1825 was to be pivotal to the experience of many of those working in the industry. Three months after the festival, the woolcombers’ union (also established that year) called a strike for recognition (of the union) and higher wages. It lasted 22 weeks and ended in favour of the employers.
Since the founding of the People’s Republic of China, Zoige Plateau, located at the boundary betweenTibet and China’s mainland, has always been transformed by national politics. Priorto July 2001, both summer and winter pasturelands in Heta Village were common lands shared by local herders, and there was no clear boundary between different villages, or zhaizi. After 2001, Heta’s pasturelands were divided along geometrical patterns according to the previously estimated border of each zhaizi and the number of people per household. In addition to pasture privatisation, the construction of infrastructure, towns, national natural conservation areas, and the encouragement of education were also boosted from 2000 in the context of “Great Western Development”– a national scientific strategy aiming to promote the economic development of westernChina. This series of interventions not only transformed lands from shared territory to the concept of properties and resources through the figure’s abstraction, but also trained or disciplined Tibetans to become citizens by articulating the dualism of “advanced” and “backward” and also by cultivating their desires and competitive nature.
Currently, grasslands and wetlands are both deteriorating, according to interviews with local people during my field trip, but the government tells people the opposite by selecting “reasonable”scientific research and noting the positive result of their environmental restoration practices at some point. This paper will use both large-scale counter-mappings and micro-scale on-site materials to resist political discourse.
This paper examines the effects of the introduction of the Eucalyptus plant to Chile in the early 19th century It focuses on the landscape of the Biobío river basin and the complex entanglement of man-planted nature and architectural and urban infrastructure. The case studies and mappings in this thesis aim to critically assess how the extractive-based economy on the landscape and architecture has introduced administrative and political borders that have historically been home to native communities and their farmlands. frontier territory. Eucalyptus plantations were a key economical factor in support of Chilean general and dictator Augusto Pinochet’s neoliberal constitutional legacy between 1973 and 1990. The large-scale plantations that expanded under his rulership replaced once fertile landscapes, stripping indigenous communities of their ancestral land, and plunging them into precariousness. These indigenous groups, such as the Mapuche, were excluded from the national economic structures established during this period, and were deterritorialized into ‘reductions’, land towards the Andes with less commercial potential. Following the military dictatorship in 1990, the proliferation of Eucalyptus plantations was continued by centre-left Concertación governments, and today, the Eucalyptus plantations in Chile have become the battlefield of heated conflicts between promoters, critics and rebels of the future of the country’s administration of resources.