C O N T E X T 1 1 4 : M A Y 2 0 1 0 11 Working with building preservation trusts A once splendid building, now decayed, derelict, beyond hope. The solution? Here is a group expecting to be given this precious piece of our culture (often for a peppercorn) with a promise, often on a wing and a prayer, to return it to the market in pristine condition. But let’s rewind there. Here is a building that no one is quite prepared to take ownership of or responsibility for. There has been a seismic market failure, the building a symbol of negligence on a grand scale, the victim of an inheritance squabble, industrial collapse or policy shift. The building carries with it a burden far beyond the physical scars of its manifest dereliction. It is that lack of action that motivates the group, which shares a passion fuelled, one suspects, by a complex bundle of perceptions: neglected buildings as places of childhood exploration; neglected buildings as opportunities to explore questions of history, value, meaning, memory; and, most important, neglected buildings as eyesores and frustrations that offend our sense of place. If no one else will accept the challenge of breathing new life into an empty shell, why should not that peculiarly idiosyncratic British construct, the third sector – historically diverse, powerful, effective and skilled in so many spheres – reclaim it and return it to the community as an asset? Building preservation trusts (BPTs) have been doing precisely that for over quarter of a century. From infancy to maturity, the movement has grown steadily, unassumingly. BPTs have rescued over 1,000 historic structures, varying enormously from windmills to warehouses. This volume of activity has pumped some £1 billion of funds into regenerating buildings that would otherwise have been lost. The statistics speak for themselves. But BPTs can not and should not claim all the credit. Imagine three aligned plinths – the policy-makers on one, the enablers in the middle (enabling projects to happen by using enforcement powers or administering funding streams), the deliverers of projects (BPTs) on the third. The portfolio of successful projects has been built on this delicate triumvirate of interests working, if not always in absolute harmony, then at least with a collective interest in tackling problem buildings. It is clear that the whole landscape of building preservation has changed, dislodging most of the original occupiers and perhaps even shifting the original plinths out of alignment. In the short term, those who formulate and dictate policy are faced with political uncertainty amid the impact of global recession. In the longer term, we have become consumed by materialism, seduced by the cult of privatisation. Since the 1980s, the public sector has become emaciated to the point where it can no longer support the notion of a public mission – the duty to provide certain sorts of goods and services just because they are in the public interest. As the public sector is forced to withdraw from using its powers to secure our heritage, the third sector is correspondingly sucked into bolstering the delivery of frontline services in the fields of health, education and policing. By contrast, as a result of the increasingly close conversation between the public and private sector, the latter in particular has stepped in to fill the role of historic environment champion, embracing the notion of regeneration and sustainability. One of the critical pillars in the enabling camp, the funders inevitably have enormous strains placed on them as a result of low interest rates and competition. It is not just that the funding pot is contracting. Complex funding packages need to be constructed against criteria which address a whole new set of political, social and economic agendas. End uses have to cater for much more diverse needs. Most projects carry an added responsibility to create a thriving, buzzing new hub for the community. The funds once targeted largely at saving fabric are now being stretched to encompass the costs of delivering access, learning, community benefits and skills programmes. The funds once targeted at saving a whole range of building types are increasingly restricted to those of very exceptional quality. Widening the remit and raising the bar has emptied the central pot, often leaving a vacuum that translates into chronic conservation deficits. What of those who deliver the projects? BPTs have achieved so much, and yet as the studies undertaken on building preservation trusts (in Scotland (p20) and the East Midlands (p17)) show here, the movement is at a crossroads. Most trusts struggle to deliver increasingly complex projects resulting in, as Andrew Beckett’s study shows (p13), the decline of the revolving-fund model. This means that many BPTs fail to retain or secure any reserves to fund core activities. And despite statistics suggesting that the historic environment supports numerous volunteers, many of the baby-boom generation have palpably withdrawn their services from third sector engagement, with many voluntary organisations struggling to recruit trustees or re-energise their commitment. Potential recruits are perhaps driven away because a number of BPTs have become involved in monstrously large undertakings. BPTs, like many third sector organisations, are struggling to unite professional staff and volunteers in pursuit of a shared vision. Fulfilling the potential of building preservation trusts depends on the right organisations, the right partnerships and the right people. James Moir, guest commissioning editor, introduces this issue of Context in which we review the most inspiring experience.
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