Tag Archives: Environment & Sustainability

Report on AHRC/LABEX Franco-British Research Workshop 1

Northcott 1Fondation Royaumont, Val d’Oise, France 16-17 January 2015

By Michael Northcott, m.northcott@ed.ac.uk

A Franco-British Research Workshop of grant holders from the AHRC’s Care for the Future grant call and LABEX’s (Laboratory of Excellence) grant call ‘Les passes dans le present: histoire, patrimoine, memoire’ was held at the former Cistercian Abbey of Royaumont 20 miles north of Paris in January 2015. The Abbey was built in the thirteenth century and patronised by Louis XIV. It is situated in a large walled enclosure of gardens, water features and stone buildings. Over the centuries the monks instituted some remarkable hydrological features. The abbey is situated between two lakes on raised ground Northcott labex 2and water from one lake flows through the Abbey grounds and buildings and out to the other lake, Along the way it was stone and sand filtered for drinking water, its flow was used for a mill, while separate channels combined with settlement pools and small weirs were used to separate and cleanse waste water. The resultant water use and supply was very advanced for its era while at the same time the channelling of water around the site considerably enhances the beauty of the buildings and grounds. I was reminded of the similar use of water in the Alhambra at Grenada and indeed the Abbey is an interesting example of Islamic influence on French ecclesiastical aesthetics. This influence is acknowledged in the commentaries provided by the Royaumont Foundation – who are the present owners of the Abbey – on the gardens in which it is pointed out that until 1100 monastic gardens were working gardens providing foodstuffs, herbal medicines and beverage related plants to the monasteries. Northcott labex 3But under Islamic influence the uses of gardens as places of contemplation, and for aesthetic appreciation, became more prominent and vestiges of this turn can be seen income of the restored gardens at Royaumont. The Abbey also had managed woodlands for fuel which can still be seen to the North of the present site.

The title of the workshop was ‘Delving back into the past to look into the present and future’ and the main aim was to explore interconnections between the AHRC Care for the Future and LABEX Pasts in the Present research calls. Both grant themes sponsor modes of representation of the past from interdisciplinary perspectives. A number of the presentations raised issues relevant to the AHRC Environment and Sustainability theme, and I will just highlight these. A fuller Northcott labex 4discussion of presentations is available in the blog by Lucy Veale athttp://careforthefuture.exeter.ac.uk/blog Sophie Richter-Devro, from the University of Exeter, in her presentation on her research into the oral history of Bedouin women in Palestine highlighted the difficulties of writing or documenting flexible, ever changing oral traditions, and the dangers of ‘freezing’ narratives and communities. Paulo Jedlowski, from the University of Calabria, in a philosophical presentation on ‘Memories of the Future’ drew on the work of Koselleck in examining portrayals of ‘future presents’ and ‘present futures’, for example in science fiction novels and films, and discussed how such past imagined futures might underwrite intergenerational connections. Intergenerational connections were also addressed by Richard Haynes, from the University of Stirling, whose presentation on sports heritage in Glasgow demonstrated the use of archival research, geo-referencing and mapping activities with school children to engage with communities across generations. The presentation of Carry van Lieshout from the University of Nottingham on the ‘The Power and the Water’ project linked historical with contemporary research around water management, access and the environment, and revealed conflicts and solutions of the past that may be useful today. Lucy Veale of the University of Nottingham gave a presentation on the Extreme weather project in which she highlighted the importance of archive, datasets, memory and narrative in framing present-day responses to extreme weather. Northcott labex 5Religious understandings of temporality, and specifically deep time, was tackled by Michael Northcott, of the University of Edinburgh, who described the way geological time – as invented by James Hutton and Charles Lyell -displaced human intergenerational history from earth or natural history, a displacement that the new geological epoch of the Anthropocene reverses in ways that are generative of cultural imaginaries of climate change and species extinction. A presentation by Carlos Lopez Galviz, School of Advanced Study, University of London, compared the nineteenth century development of the urbanscapes of London and Paris, and the role of futuristic imaginaries in their respective shaping. In a helpful summative comment Andrew Thompson observed the importance of recognising the multiplicity of imagined todays, tomorrows and yesterdays in our respective projects.

Northcott labex 6The joint workshop was an excellent example of Franco-British cooperation and a new initiative for AHRC and LABEX. Andrew Thompson and director of the LABEX theme, Marie-Claire Lavabre, in their concluding remarks also indicated their clear and joint intention to launch a joint funding call between AHRC and LABEX for research projects involving collaboration between researchers from the Care for the Future theme and the LABEX ‘Les Passes dans le present’ theme.

 

Between cultural and natural heritage

marianna-dudleyby Dr Marianna Dudley, University of Bristol. Cross-posted from The Power and the Water: Connecting Pasts with Futures blog

Between cultural and natural heritage

Dudley 1 chateau

“Fairytale castle”, chateau Chenonceau. Photo: Marianna Dudley.

Chenonceau is a chateau worthy of a fairytale princess. It has turrets and gardens and galleries – and a river running through it. Built between 1514 and 1522 on the site of an old mill, it became the home of Diane de Poitiers, mistress of King Henry II. Diane loved the chateau, and built the bridge over the river. On Henry’s death in 1559, his widow Catherine de Medici demanded that Diane exchange Chenonceau for her chateau Charmont. Catherine built the galleries upon Diane’s bridge, and ruled France as regent from the building. Renaissance intrigues, not fairytales, brought this building to life.

Foundation Royaumont, a former abbey. Photo: Marianna Dudley.

Foundation Royaumont, a former abbey. Photo: Marianna Dudley.

I was in France following an AHRC-Labex Franco-British workshop, where Care for the Future project members were brought together with French Labex counterparts, to discover each other’s research and discuss possibilities for future collaboration. The 2-day workshop was held in a former abbey transformed into a cultural centre – the Royaumont Foundation – to the north of Paris, a stunning setting for the ‘Delving Back into the Past to Look into the Present’ workshop.

The workshop was the result of an initiative by Andrew Thompson, director of the Care for the Future programme for the AHRC in Britain, and Ghislaine Glasson Deschaumes, director of Les Passés dans le présent (the Laboratoire d’excellence based at the Université Paris Ouest Nanterre la Defense, France). The two funding schemes had such close themes – Care for the Future: Thinking Forward through the Past, and The Past in the Present: History, Patrimony, Memory – as well as an emphasis on working with external heritage partners, and supporting early career researchers, that Andrew and Ghislaine have taken the opportunity to forge collaborative links between the two. Future funding will allow members of the two schemes to connect and apply for funding for joint research projects.

Carry van Lieshout and I were there to represent ‘The Power and the Water’, describe our research and be alert for potential links with French researchers present. My paper, ‘Between natural and cultural heritage, and human and natural archive’, discussed the importance of placing environments and natures at the heart of our understandings of heritage – as they have been historically, for example in the conservation movement in the UK and the global national park movement. It suggested that the language of heritage acquires new meaning when situated in a public sphere with many and multiple ties to place and nature – heritage breeds, heirloom vegetables, and keystone species are just some of the vocabulary used to add value to things by invoking heritage both cultural and natural. I suggested that, as historians and heritage professionals, we should be alert to the natural archive as a source and site for history, in addition to the cultural archive, and continue to place importance on landscapes, animals, ecosystems, natural cycles – and the histories and cultures they inform – in our discussions of heritage. In her paper ‘River or Ruin? Connecting Histories with Publics’, Carry explored how different valuations and understandings of an intermittent river and its heritage are playing out in the Peak district, and suggested that to widen our understanding (and expectations) of heritage-in-place to accommodate both natural and human interventions might allow contestations between past, present and future use to move forward.

Splendour of the interior of interior of Chateau Chenonceau. Photo: Marianna Dudley.

Splendour of the interior of interior of Chateau Chenonceau. Photo: Marianna Dudley.

After an intense two days of workshopping, I took some time to see more of French heritage in situ. Thus, I ended up at Chateau Chenonceau on a bitterly cold January morning, fully absorbed in the Renaissance splendor of the house, from the kitchens down below to the roaring fires that brought life (and much-needed warmth) to bed chambers and sitting rooms. This was cultural heritage at its best.

But then, in the gallery exhibition, a quote from Marguerite Yourcenar stopped me in my tracks, and brought the natural heritage of the chateau, somewhat hidden beneath the weight of tapestries and brocades and copper pans, back to the fore:

Let’s look at it from a new perspective, leaving aside these very well-known figures, these silhouettes on the magic lantern of French history… let’s think about the countless generation of birds that have flocked around these walls, the skillful architecture of their nests, the royal genealogies of animals in the forests and their dens or their unadorned shelters, their hidden life, their almost always-tragic death, so often at the hands of man.

Take another step along the paths: let’s dream about the great race of trees, with different species taking over in succession, compared to whose age four or five hundred years means nothing.

Another step further on, far from any human concerns, here is the water in the river, water that is both older and newer than any other form, and which has for centuries washed the cast offs of history. Visiting old residences can lead us to see things in a rather unexpected way. (Sous bénéfice d’inventaire (1962)

Yourcenar, the French writer and first woman to be inducted into the Académie Française (in 1981), looked beyond the materiality of the chateau to connect its history with that of the surrounding lands and waters that supported it, and suffered for it.[1] Her words spoke to me as an encouragement for environmental historians to raise the profile of the natural archive, and as a reminder that we are far from the only ones to seek and value natural heritage alongside other manifestations of history. I look forward to the opportunities that the initiative between AHRC and Labex presents for us to connect with French scholars with similar convictions and research interests. Sincere thanks to Andrew, Ghislaine, and the AHRC/Labex staff for bringing us all together, and starting conversations that are sure to develop.

[1] ‘Becoming the Emperor: How Marguerite Yourcenar reinvented the past’, The New Yorker (February 14, 2005)

When the Lights Go Out

Trentmann FrankProfessor Frank Trentmann, Birkbeck College,
PI, Material Cultures of Energy: Transitions, Disruption, and Everyday Life in the 20th century. The research group consists of Frank Trentmann, Hiroki Shin, Vanessa Taylor, Heather Chappells and Rebecca Wright.

What happens when the lights go out? During a blackout it’s not only light that you lose. Electric cookers, heaters, TV and the radio stop working, and your computers, wifi and mobile phones will probably be off-line. A major part of our life today depends on the constant supply of energy. Cars might still run but traffic lights might not, nor would lifts, ticket machines, ATMs and the tube.

Such scenarios might appear the stuff of thrillers or routine in Africa and India, but even in the rich world, we have yet to overcome energy disruptions. Just to take a few examples, there were blackouts in Italy and the USA in 2003 and across Europe in 2006. Japan had rolling blackouts in 2011. It can be tempting to think energy disruptions are of recent origin, a problem that started with the oil crises of the 1970s. But this would be too simple. The 20th century is peppered with them.

Understanding the history of these disruptions better is one of the aims of the ‘Material Cultures of Energy’ research project based at Birkbeck College, University of London – the project’s other three themes look at energy futures; how rural spaces were transformed by grids; and how people managed and experienced the transition from one fuel to another. We investigate these themes by comparing the UK, Germany, Japan, North America and India, with their different energy systems, cultures and everyday practices. We are historians and a geographer, who believe a better understanding of the past can be useful for how we think and approach the future.

“More electricity for building socialism”, East Germany 1952. Image: Landesarchiv Berlin.

“More electricity for building socialism”, East Germany 1952.
Image: Landesarchiv Berlin.

How did people in the past respond to energy disruption and what difference did norms and values, technologies and politics make? One thing that is clear is that energy disruption did not affect all energy users equally. In Japan in the late 1940s, families would have seen from their dark homes brightly lit factories, as the country was frantically trying to recover from the destruction of war. In the same period, British factory managers were blaming shortages on “excessive” household consumers.

Past disruptions tell us how unevenly burdens were distributed between different groups of consumers. In a very real sense, the course of disruption was often determined by society, based on ideas about who should have more energy and who less, and who should have it at what time of day or night. Culture and society shaped where and when the lights went out – not just nature or technology. It is therefore no surprise that tensions emerged not only between suppliers and consumers but also among consumers. In historical sources, we can see how different consumers were weighed against each other. After the Second World War, British homes, for example, were far more favourably treated than Japanese households, which until the 1950s were placed at the bottom of the supply list. Yet, people did not always accept their fate. In Japan, dissatisfied consumers organised protest movements. Some just ‘cheated’ suppliers.

Trentmann 2 - MOSI EDA-1659

Electrical Development Association, “No Electric Fires” Campaign, c.1950. Image reproduced by permission of the Museum of Science and Industry, Manchester.

Such distributional conflicts also affected the rhythm of day and night, as governments tried to shift electricity use out of peak hours. The lack of energy triggered a reconfiguration of work and everyday life. During the 1946/7 fuel crisis in Britain, waking up late would have meant missing out on hot water and hot breakfast. Household chores needed to be done within specified hours when electricity was permitted, or they had to be done without electrical appliances at all. In East Germany, industrial workers were told to work into the night – in order to shift the peak hours. Such shift work had knock-on effects on eating rhythms, sleeping, shopping and child care that were particularly hard on mothers.

Understanding how past shortages worked themselves out provides vital knowledge in helping us to think about how societies might deal with such situations in the future. In November 2014, we met with international experts at Caltech to look at various scales of scarcity, from scenarios of population growth in the past to the challenge of renewable energy in the future. At the symposium, historians, social scientists, engineers and scientists examined various types of scarcity, including water, food and energy, and the interplay of natural, economic and political forces.

Today, there is once again talk among politicians and energy providers in Britain and Europe about future blackouts and a more precarious allocation of energy. Developing nations cannot expect smooth growth and energy security either. If there is one lesson from the past, it is that it is too simple to trust technology will fix the problem. Abundance and scarcity go hand in hand. Shortages involve politics and culture, as do societies’ strategies to deal with. What people did when the lights went out in the past could tell us something about our flexibility and resilience in the future.

Sustainability and subsistence systems in a changing Sudan

Dr Philippa Ryan, Department of Conservation and Scientific Research, The British Museum, Principal Investigator

Philippa sampling a 3,100 year old hearth in a large villa.

Philippa sampling a 3,100 year old hearth in a large villa.

Professor Katherine Homewood, Department of Anthropology, UCL, Co-Investigator

Nubian agricultural practices are rapidly changing due to infrastructure development, technological and environmental changes. Our project explores how comparisons of present-day and ancient crop choices can inform on risk management within agricultural strategies of small-scale riparian Nile village settlements. Research is focused on present-day Ernetta island (620km north of Khartoum) and nearby 2nd millennium BC Amara West, which was also located on an island during its occupation. Today, as in the past, islands are important due to their agricultural potential. PR blog - amara_west_map_624Compared to further north in Egypt, there are fewer areas of wide floodplain suitable to traditional floodplain agriculture in the Middle Nile Valley.

We have been interviewing Nubian farmers to investigate the characteristics of customary agriculture and in what ways these have been impacted by new farming methods, population movements, dam and road-building – as well as changing patterns of imports and trade. Interviews were undertaken in February and March of this year, and have so far focused on the car- and electricity-free island Ernetta. Several farmers we met were over 80 years old and we have begun to outline several phases of change in crops grown over the last century. Key agents of change have included the introduction of new crops, the shift in irrigation techniques from the water wheel to water pumps (1950s-1970s) and the impact of bird attacks on certain crops.

Removing crop weeds from wheat, Ernetta

Removing crop weeds from wheat, Ernetta

We have been finding out about customary harvesting, threshing, storage and food preparation practices as well as about land-use and irrigation. We discussed what animals people keep, how this has changed and foddering/grazing practices. Despite the changes, some practices have remained relatively traditional till very recently. For instance, harvesting is still done by hand, and a threshing machine was only introduced to the island in the mid-2000s. There seems to be shifts in farming approaches amongst the older and younger generations of farmers, with a potential loss in knowledge about how particular crops have been used in the past. We are examining our evidence for temporal changes alongside ethnographic and historical sources. For comparative purposes, we are also carrying out interviews in nearby river-bank farms, as well as in other locations in northern Sudan.

The ancient town of Amara West was also originally situated on an island like Ernetta. Geomorphological evidence suggests a river channel north of the site drying during the site occupation, which would have exposed the settlement and agricultural fields to encroaching sands. (Find the complete report here.) The town has well-preserved architectural phases, together with associated plant remains, spanning this timeframe. (For further information, click here.)

Ful (broad bean) fields after harvest, Ernetta island
Ful (broad bean) fields after harvest, Ernetta island

Charred seeds are providing information about a wide range of taxa, whilst phytoliths (opaline silica casts of plant cells) preserve information about plant parts that rarely survive charring. We are studying the plant remains to investigate whether or not the increased localised aridity impacted agricultural and plant-use strategies. Little is published or known about agricultural practices prior to the 1st Millennium BC, and the evidence from Amara West is providing new information about crops grown for the 2nd millennium BC.

The subsistence information from the Amara West and the farmer interviews will be situated within a long temporal review of crop choices in the region. Crop diversification is one way of managing agricultural risk given that using a number of cereals and pulses with different growing tolerances (such as to heat or water stress) helps to buffer against crop failure. This includes reviewing archaeobotanical literature for ancient plant use as well as twentieth Century sources to better understand more recent changes. Combining the ethnographic and archaeological record aims to establish firstly which of today’s crops have a particularly long established history in the region, and secondly whether some of these are being grown less in recent decades.

Animal enclosure, Ernetta island

Animal enclosure, Ernetta island

For instance, hulled barley is found in abundant quantities at Amara West and was grown as a food cereal until the mid-twentieth century but is now grown mostly by older farmers, and only for animal fodder or for making a drink thought to have medicinal properties. This study aims to create a long-term perspective of adaptive solutions and how these are relevant to the future, and aims to record and promote local knowledge of sustainable natural resource exploitation.

Research and fieldwork at Amara West is made possible with the permission of the National Corporation of Antiquities & Museums (Sudan).

Project website

http://www.britishmuseum.org/research/research_projects/all_current_projects/sudan/amara_west_research_project/sustainability_and_subsistence.aspx

Wheat fields, Ernetta

Wheat fields, Ernetta

Caring for the Future Through Ancestral Time. Engaging the Cultural and Spiritual Presence of the Past to Promote a Sustainable Future.

Professor Michael Northcott, University of Edinburghmichael_northcott1
PI of Caring for the Future through Ancestral Time, funded under AHRC Care for the Future: Thinking Forward through the Past

The global spread of a consumer culture, through electronic forms of communication, multinational trade networks, and airplane and shipping containers, creates a culture of instantaneity which changes human perceptions of time. At the same time rituals which used to marked the passage of the years, and linked time’s passing to daily life, are declining. Many of these rituals were associated with the planting, tending and harvesting of crops as determined by the seasons. The culture of instantaneity reflects a growing disconnect between culture and nature, and between consumption and production. This break was anticipated in the Victorian era when modern humans first migrated en masse from solar-powered fields and species to dwelling in fossil fuelled cities. As land for burials in crowded cities was scarce, the Victorians initiated a new rite of passage – cremation – which broke the visible link between human mortality and the earth. But the Victorians nonetheless built the infrastructure of their cities as if they intended them to last, even as most of their mortal remains were cremated and so ‘melted into air’.

Lichen on a grave stone of new red sandstone of the Permian era in the churchyard of an ecocongregation in Nithsdale, Southwest Scotland

Lichen on a grave stone of new red sandstone of the Permian era in the churchyard of an ecocongregation in Nithsdale, Southwest Scotland

Since the Victorian era, human powers have grown to the extent that natural scientists suggest industrial humans have inaugurated a new geological epoch – the Anthropcene. Homo industrialis is a ‘force of nature’, capable of shaping the geologic and evolutionary future of life on earth. Anthropogenic forcing of the earth system through changes in the refraction of solar heat energy from the earth’s surface to space, and species extinction many times the background extinction rate, are two of the ways in which a high consumption civilisation is challenging and changing the life support systems of the planet. But the time scale in which industrial greenhouse gas emissions provoke new climates which are observably different from pre-industrial climates, and the rate of industrial species extinction compared to pre-industrial, are not annual, but multi-decadal and even multi-centennial. Such long-term temporalities map poorly onto the presentist tendencies of consumer culture.

The cult of instantaneity and speed, combined with the long production and supply chains of global production systems, encourage citizens and corporations to neglect long run consideration, and the cost-benefit pathways which guide infrastructure and investment decisions are increasingly short term. Environmentalists argue for a greater attention towards ecological legacy in investment decisions in the light of the irreversible consequences of accelerated species extinctions, and of runaway anthropogenic climate change. However there is evidence that the apocalyptic terms in which environmentalists often narrate long run ecological consequences depoliticize decision-making processes and provoke denial (Bettini, 2013). This is partly because ecological apocalyptic represents the post-ecological future as radically changed from the present, as for example in J G Ballard’s Drowned World (1968) or Christopher Nolan’s film Interstellar (2014). Ecological apocalyptic may therefore fail to repair the short-termist tendencies of consumption and investment decision making.Northcott jpg2

Religious organisations sustain heritage sites, rituals and traditions that represent a ‘chain of memory’ between the past and the present (Herviue-Leger 2000). They engage stories from past lives – such as the lives of Moses, Christ and the Buddha – in ways that continue to shape daily life in the present. Religions also sustain eschatological imaginaries that link present actions to the future destinies of souls and the cosmos. In this project we call this awareness of past time in the present ‘ancestral time’. This understanding of time is reflected in the awareness of intergenerational community which Christians call the ‘communion of saints’, and which is annually celebrated at All Hallow’s Eve in secular as well as sacred customs and practices. Chinese have related customs, which may include maintenance of an ancestral altar in the home, or annual observation of the Feast of Hungry Ghosts. In these rituals and beliefs present generations are conscious of the presence of the past, of their debts to the dead, and of their legacy and responsibilities to future generations.

Gravestones, Durisdeer Kirkyard, Dumfrieshire

Gravestones, Durisdeer Kirkyard, Dumfrieshire

Memorials to the dead are among the oldest built structures in most cultures, including in Scotland, and often play an orienting role in the siting of places of dwelling and worship. For those who lived before the advent of the consumer society, reverence for the dead was connected with a sense of responsibility to the ancestors to live well, and to leave the earth in as good or better a condition as they left it. Reverence for ancestors symbolised the old idea of stewardship: that life is a gift and that diminishing the beauty or fertility of the land, or frittering away ancestrally acquired property, dishonours the dead.

Ancient grave stones on which engraving marks are eroded may be dated by counting the number of species of Lichen that they sustain (Leger and Forister 2009). Hence ‘Ancestral Time’ may represent an ecologically and culturally situated temporality that resists the dominant time management and economic accounting procedures of consumer society. In this approach church buildings, gravestones, clocks and church installations such as roof top solar panels, represent ‘objects of time’ (Birth 2013) that situate time in ecological and social worlds, and resist the instanteneity and virtuality of consumer time.

Solar panels on Selkirk Parish Church, Scottish Borders

Solar panels on Selkirk Parish Church, Scottish Borders

In this project we aim to discover whether ancestral time constitutes a representation of temporal experience that still has purchase in faith communities in their thinking and acting around ecological legacy. The project team are investigating this possibility through an ethnographic investigation of faith-based ecological activism. A key site of such activism is Eco-Congregation Scotland, which links 280 churches in the largest environmental network in Scotland. The project researchers are conducting interviews and participant observation at around 40 churches in the network. We are also investigating other faith based ecological activist networks, and comparative field studies in Transition Towns and other secular ecological networks.

If the long time scales that undergird natural scientific accounts of climate change and extinction are counter-cultural to contemporary moderns, they may map rather better onto the longer term life-time accounting that was common in the Christian era until the consumer age (Northcott 2014). In this project we are investigating the possibility that an ‘ancestral’ representation of intergenerational and ecological legacy may have cultural purchase within and beyond faith based communities in the quest for modes of existence that conserve ecological legacy for future generations.

Further details about the project can be found at:
http://ancestraltime.org.uk/about-the-project/
Project Blog: http://ancestraltime.org.uk/project-blog/

References and further reading

Ballard, J G (1962) The Drowned World Penguin, Harmondsworth.

Bettini, G (2013) Climate Barbarians at the Gate? A critique of apocalyptic narratives on ‘climate refugees’, Geoforum 45: 63 – 72.

Birth K (2012) Objects of Time: How Things Shape Temporality Palgrave MacMillan, New York.

Hervieu-Leger D. (2000), Religion as a Chain of Memory. Polity Press, Cambridge.

Leger E A and Forister M L (2009) Colonization, abundance, and geographic range size of gravestone lichens. Basic and Applied Ecology doi:10.1016/j.baae.2008.04.001

Nolan C (2014) Interstellar. Paramount, Los Angeles, CA.

Northcott M (2014) A Political Theology of Climate Change. SPCK, London

de Vos, Joppa et al (2014) Estimating the Normal Background Rate of Species Extinction. Conservation Biology DOI: 10.1111/cobi.12380

This post was originally uploaded on 18 November 2014. It was edited and had new images added on 19 November.

‘The Power and the Water’, the Power of Water and the Flows (Visible and Invisible) Connecting Energetic Environments and Landscapes

Professor Peter Coates, School of Humanities, University of Bristol
PI of The Power and the Water, funded under AHRC Care for the Future: Thinking Forward through the Past

Peter at project partner Northumbrian Water’s Howdon Sewage Plant, Newcastle, on an unseasonably chilly day – even for the northeast – in June (photo: Jill Payne)

One of the places ‘The Power and the Water’ team visited during our gathering on Tyneside in June 2014 was the Baltic Centre for Contemporary Art, on the river’s Gateshead (south) bank. The exhibit that caught my attention was ‘Near Here’ by Nina Canell, who, a guidebook explains, is ‘fascinated by forces that affect us every day but that we can’t see with our eyes – things like electricity and air. If we can’t see them, how do we know they exist?’ Canell takes materials like cables, steel and water to create sculpture that, according to the Baltic’s press release, gives ‘substance to the intangible’. This strategy renders the invisible visible and brings the seemingly distant closer to us (near here?). The installation ‘Forgetfulness (Dense)’ consisted of a water-filled tank (raised on a frame like a display case) that contained a suspended length of underwater telecommunications cable which bore an uncanny resemblance to an oversized, particularly colourful liquorice all-sort. The combination of power and water appealed to me, as did the severed nature of the cable: a power supply cut off at both ends, disconnected from its source and destination.

Environmental connectivities reside at our project’s heart and supply the ties that bind its three strands. Strand 1 (based with me in Bristol) addresses river systems and their connected bio-physical, energetic, commercial and cultural flows (with reference to Tyne and Severn). [See below Alexander Portch’s poster on the broader historical context for barrage proposals to generate electricity from the Severn Estuary’s tidal power (Severn Estuary Partnership, Severn Estuary Forum 2014, Cardiff, September 2014). Alexander is the research student at Bristol.]

Strand 2 (based with Paul Warde at the University of East Anglia, though about to move with him to Cambridge at the end of this year) deals with infrastructure and energy systems/sectors and their connected sites of generation, transmission and consumption (with reference to the national grid’s emergence and the energy environments of twentieth-century Somerset). [See below Kayt Button’s poster on the UK National Grid (Second World Congress of Environmental History, Portugal, July 2014). Kayt is the research student at UEA.]

Strand 3 (based with Georgina Endfield at Nottingham) examines the infrastructure of constructed watercourses and how they connect notions of natural and cultural heritage and watercourses above and below ground (with reference to soughs [drainage channels/artificial rivers] in Derbyshire’s former lead mining district). [See below Carry van Lieshout’s poster on soughs in Derbyshire’s former lead mining areas (Second World Congress of Environmental History, Portugal, July 2014). Carry is the post-doctoral researcher at Nottingham.]

Alexander Portch’s poster
Kayt Button’s poster on the UK National Grid (Second World Congress of Environmental History, Portugal, July 2014). Kayt is the research student at UEA.
Kayt Button’s poster
Carry van Lieshout’s poster on soughs in Derbyshire’s former lead mining areas (Second World Congress of Environmental History, Portugal, July 2014). Carry is the post-doctoral researcher at Nottingham.
Carry van Lieshout’s poster

PC blog logo

Our project logo (Jonny Aldrich’s winning entry in an open design competition for students of Graphic Communication at Plymouth University) foregrounds connectivity. The first of the three triangles (green) joins up the locations of our three universities to convey Connection and Landscape. Jonny then duplicated and rotated the triangle twice to form an abstract star that represents Energy/ Power/ Electricity (Gold), Environment/ Landscape (Green) and Water (Blue).

We are constantly on the lookout for connective tissue, which usually resides beneath the surface, like the infrastructure of sewage and water pipes, broadband Internet cables and other electrical wiring within the walls and under the floorboards of where we live and work. Where this domestic analogy breaks down, though, is that in the lives of the people, and the enveloping places and socio-natural systems we study, not all of the connections between point of supply and point of use, between places of production and places of consumption, remain ‘live’.

‘Power and Water’ is in the business of re-establishing severed connections. Reading up on Canell after I visited her exhibit, I was relieved to find that I hadn’t been too reductive in embracing her artworks as richly suggestive material for our project. Through objects such as ‘amputated’ cables, one reviewer explained, she ‘puts industrial, mundane objects that connect the sources of energy of our modern world into the viewer’s consciousness’ (Morais, 2014). And in a video interview, Canell explained that ‘Near Here’ aims to ask questions such as ‘what is nearness?’ and to examine notions of proximity and distance. The electric cable helps her grapple with ideas of movement and fluidity – and the interruption of a connective form when it is chopped up.

As our project moves into the second of our three years, we are devoting increasing thought to how the three strands connect. While they are all self-standing and discrete, with their own distinctive themes and flavours, we want to tease out the connections and foreground them in publications that emerge. Potentially nourishing food for connective thought is provided by the twin notions of the ground and the grid that Paul Warde brought to our attention at the Newcastle meeting and has expanded on in a recent blog. Referring to the changes in the agrarian landscape of his boyhood home, Seamus Heaney noted ‘that old sense of tillage and season and foliage has disappeared. Once trees and hedges and ditches and thatch get stripped, you’re in a very different world. You’re deserting the ground for the grid’ (O’Driscoll, 2008: 24). The duality of ground and grid also encompasses the polarities of traditional and modern, personal and impersonal, real and abstract, connection and disconnection as well as of place and placeless. Largely absent from the grid are the qualities of materiality and tangibility: we cannot see it, touch it, or manipulate it. And, unless we visit a nuclear power station or hydro plant, we find it hard to place. Moreover, in forging new connections, the grid creates disconnections, empowering and disempowering.

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Cromford Sough Tail, near Cromford Mills, Derbyshire, site of the first water-powered cotton spinning mill developed by Richard Arkwright in 1771, and locale of a recent team meeting (photo: Georgina Endfield)

‘The Power and the Water’ explores why we so readily recognize dualities such as ground and grid but also their complicated nature. Our trip to Tyneside, for instance, deepened our appreciation of the complex connections between Tynesiders and the Tyne. We might assume that the river’s industrialization, the canalization of its form, the depletion of its biotic life and the degradation of its water loosened more intimate pre-industrial bonds, so that people turned their backs on the river. And we might also assume that, with deindustrialization and ecological revival since the 1970s, Tynesiders are returning to the urban river, rediscovering lost connections. Yet the association of a dirty river with a dead, disconnected river is by no means axiomatic. For those who worked on the river during the heyday of commerce and industrialism, a working river was a living river, a big river they felt connected to. A river might be dirty, but, more vitally, it was busy, and a busy river was very much alive – a river to which people felt closely connected and in which they were grounded. In 1995, the Newcastle singer and actor, Jimmy Nail, released the elegiac song ‘Big River’. ‘When coal was king’ and the tidal river bristled with the shipyards of Swan Hunter, the Tyne was ‘a living thing’ , a mighty, mightily impressive watercourse that was a huge source of pride regardless of its state of naturalness or cleanliness. In his bittersweet tribute to the Big River that has become a Small River in a post-industrial age, a dead river was a deindustrialized river, not a biologically deceased river. Those who share Nail’s sentiments now feel more distanced from a river whose significance has shrunk enormously since the shipyards shut (also the subject of Sting’s most recent album, ‘The Last Ship’) and the mines closed, pulling the plug on their local connection as the river is transformed from the ground into the grid.

Through a series of site-based studies, the project emphasizes the place- and context-specific character of ‘environmental connectivity’; its historical development and contingency; and the idioms that have been employed to explain and convey understanding of environmental change, as well as the language we use to talk about different types of infrastructure. What kind of future envisioning, and possibilities for progress toward sustainable development or risks of degradation and dissolution, are associated with particular forms of environmental connectivity? How far are people and communities aware of connections undergirding their lives? And do we frame examples of environmental change and infrastructure in a common tongue or disparate language?

Project team members (left to right) Leona Skelton, Erin Gill (impact and engagement officer), Carry van Lieshout and Alexander Portch, with Northumbrian Water official, at Howdon Sewage Treatment Works, Newcastle, 5 June 2014 (photo: Marianna Dudley)

Project team members (left to right) Leona Skelton, Erin Gill (impact and engagement officer), Carry van Lieshout and Alexander Portch, with Northumbrian Water official, at Howdon Sewage Treatment Works, Newcastle, 5 June 2014 (photo: Marianna Dudley)

To date, the full team has gathered for meetings in London (November 2013), Newcastle (June 2014) and the Peak District (October 2014). There was also full representation at the Second World Congress of Environmental History (Guimaraes, Portugal, July 2014), where we organized a panel on ‘Fluvial histories of the Tyne and Severn: connective flows in and between two major British rivers’, another team member presented a paper on ‘Nuclear pasts and fracking futures in southwest England’, and others displayed posters (another venue for poster display was the Severn Estuary Partnership’s 2014 Forum).

Team members also generate a steady stream of substantial blogs – well over thirty to date – about their activities. These have included visits to a state-of-the-art sewage treatment plant in Newcastle; a Five Star Severn Bore; a Barmote (ancient court dealing with disputes and claims related to lead mining since 1288) in Derbyshire; the South Western Electricity History Society’s Museum of Electricity in suburban Bristol; and Hinkley Point Nuclear Power Station (you can subscribe to receive e-mail notification of new blog posts). There is also a regular flow of other postings, among them project student Kayt Button’s call for recollections of how individuals, families and communities perceived and received the arrival of electricity.

As well as working with a range of external groups (including the Clean Tyne Project, Tyne Rivers Trust, Peak District National Park Authority and Peak District Mines Historical Society – Carry and Georgina recently gave a talk at the latter group’s AGM), we’re also hooking up with adjacent AHRC projects. Angela Connelly, a researcher on the Jetty Project (an artwork-based project focused on Dunston Staiths, a wooden structure [1893] on the Tyne for loading coal onto ships that is reputedly Europe’s largest wooden structure), led our project team on a field trip – a joint activity that generated a cross-posted report (http://jetty-project.info/connecting-with-power-and-the-water/).

Team members with archaeologist John Barnatt of Peak District National Park Authority (in the ditch, to the right), Lathkill Dale, 8 October 2014 (photo: Jill Payne)

Team members with archaeologist John Barnatt of Peak District National Park Authority (in the ditch, to the right), Lathkill Dale, 8 October 2014 (photo: Jill Payne)

Four members of another project funded through Care for the Future’s ‘Environmental Change and Sustainability’ highlight call, ‘Material Cultures of Energy: Transitions, Disruption, and Everyday Life in the Twentieth Century’ (PI: Frank Trentmann) attended our Peak District meeting at Cromford Mills to discuss potential synergies – and Paul is a member of its advisory board. Meanwhile, Georgina’s sough strand is in discussion with colleagues on the Connected Communities programme project, ‘Stories of Change: The Past, Present and Future of Energy’ (PI: Joe Smith), one of whose three stories (‘Industry Story: Future Works’) shares a Derbyshire dimension (and Paul is a ‘story fellow’ on this project). We are also in contact with another Connected Communities project, ‘Towards Hydrocitizenship: Connecting communities with and through responses to interdependent, multiple water issues’ (PI: Owain Jones), which includes a Bristol case study, not least with regard to plans for coordinating and linking our projects’ contributions to next June’s Festival of Nature, an annual Bristol-based event which, in 2015, will be given added weight by Bristol’s status as European Green Capital.

Further details about the project can be found at: http://powerwaterproject.net/
Follow Power & Water (@envirohistories) on Twitter

References and further reading

Drought, deluge and dearth: exploring British extreme weather events over time

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Georgina on top of Great Dun Fell in a howling snow storm

Professor Georgina Endfield, University of Nottingham
PI of Weather Extremes, funded under AHRC Care for the Future: Thinking Forward through the Past

In 1952, climatologist Gordon Manley suggested that “if a census were taken of common topics of conversation amongst British people, it is very probable that the weather would take first place” (Manley, 1952:13). This statement is probably as true today as it was over sixty years ago, and while in no way being unique in this, it is fair to say that the British have a something of an obsession with the weather.

British weather comicYet the weather has arguably become an even more popular topic of conversation in recent years. In part, this is a function of narratives highlighting the apparently looming, apocalyptic climate changes that global society faces, but it may also be a result of rising concern over the impacts of anomalous, ‘extreme’ weather events such as droughts, floods, storm events and unusually high or low temperatures. While social and economic systems have generally evolved to accommodate some deviations from “normal” weather conditions, this is rarely true of extremes. Such events, therefore, can have the greatest and most immediate social and economic impact of all climate changes, exemplified most recently in the UK by the storms of January and February 2014.

Yet extreme weather, our fascination with it and more particularly our eagerness to write and talk about it, are of course far from unprecedented. As popular weather writer Philip Eden notes, “Bad weather has always been part of the British scene” (2005: vii). In our 3 year project, we are drawing on a wide range of historical records and conducting community based oral histories to investigate the timing and implications of- and responses to extreme weather in a range of spatial contexts across the UK, dating back to the late seventeenth century.

Different regional circumstances, particular physical conditions, an area’s social and economic activities and embedded cultural knowledges, norms, values, practices and infrastructures all affect the impacts of and responses to extreme weather. The way in which an extreme event is experienced and perceived in turn determines whether it becomes inscribed into the memory of a community or an individual in the form of oral history, ideology, custom, narrative, artefact, technological and physical adaptation, including adaptations to the working landscape and built environment. These different forms of remembering and recording the past represent central media through which information on past events is curated, recycled and transmitted across generations and into the future.

In our project we are tapping into these different forms of remembering and recording. The archive has been the most obvious place to start and as our own project blog is demonstrating, the many regional archival collections we are exploring are yielding some fascinating insights into the socio- economic, cultural and environmental implications of past extremes. We are drawing on a very wide range of sources. Although official meteorological observations rarely extend back beyond the mid nineteenth century, climate and weather have long been the subjects of private narratives, diaries, chronicles and sermons dating back to the later seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. A very diverse group of people were involved in observing and recording weather in this period, either in networks or independently, including farmers, gentlemen scientists, physicians, sea captains, religious figures and naturalist curates, university professors and travellers. Over and above using such sources for identifying extreme weather and its impacts, our work is revealing much about such observers, the way in which they recorded the weather and what form their observations took, as well as insight into their motivations for weather observation. In the earliest records, emphasis was often placed on the qualitative, narrative framing of unusual or extreme events that disrupted everyday life. From the mid to late eighteenth century, more quotidian recording practices were adopted whereby people collated daily local weather records, based on their own personal observations, though extreme events tended to be more noteworthy and are often described in detail. Harrisons-diary-420x210There are very many such records- too many to consider here- but one example is John Harrison’s notebook, now held in the Derbyshire Records Office in Matlock. Written when he was 20 years old and from his home town of Belper, his diary represents in his own words a “hemerologium”, a “calendar of events” or, a “Book of Remarks”. He recorded his observations between 1734 and 1747 and throughout this period, in addition to recording regional. national and international news he documents the timing, frequency and impacts of storm events and unusual atmospheric phenomena including visual phenomena, eclipses, comets and instances of the aurora borealis. Of particular interest for our project are his detailed weather observations during “the great frost” or “the great freeze” which was experienced across much of northern Europe between 1739 and 1744.

From the 1700s, there is a greater availability of local, regional and national newspapers, which represent an important source of high resolution climate and weather data which also provide detailed accounts of the ramifications and implications of unusual or extreme events. Alongside these more direct sources of information, however, there are other historical documentary sources travel accounts and descriptions, legal documents, poems and literary sources, crop and tax records, as well as maps, paintings and images, all of which can contain potentially useful information about periods of anomalous and extreme climate over the historical period.

We are also exploring the history of extremes and associated implications through personal testimony, oral histories and behaviour. Many folk and rural narratives and proverbs regarding the weather are based on familiarity with long-term climate variability, or what historian Katherine Anderson has referred to as “weather wising”. Local weather, and departures from perceived norms in this respect, can also become inscribed into everyday practices, including farming, gardening and a variety of domestic and recreation pursuits, and can also be embedded in the design and construction of vernacular buildings, while extreme events that resulted in trauma, such as flood events, and the epigraphic records of such events, can also become a focus of community memorial and mourning. All such examples of weather’s cultural inscription are offering insight into the ways in which people have documented, recall and remember particular types of weather.

People’s nostalgia about past weather events or weather conditions offers another area of research which we will be pursuing specifically through our oral history work. This aspect of the project brings an interesting challenge- a subject of further study in itself – for we do not have to have a lived experience of the past to feel nostalgia for it. Rather there is a distinction between what has been referred to as ‘real’ nostalgia and nostalgia for some remembered previous time and a so-called ‘stimulated’ nostalgia – a form of vicarious nostalgia evoked from stories, images and possessions or received wisdoms (Baker ad Kennedy, 1994). It is also important to remember that our weather memories depend heavily on idealized stereotypes of seasonal conditions. As Rayner (2009) notes, “we still expect to see snowmen on Christmas cards”, though white Christmases are in fact very rare. Anything deviating from stereotypical norms thus become unusual and in some cases extreme.

There is of course a value to this historical research beyond unearthing very many fascinating and engaging accounts, memories, narratives and stories. Investigating the different ways in which people document, remember and recall past events, from eighteenth century personal diaries through to 21st century tweets and Flickr images, allows us to identify the type of events that become inscribed into the social, cultural and infrastructural fabric of a community and, through comparison with available instrumental weather records, those events that do not. This issue of memory and remembering and identifying how and why certain weather events are remembered while others are forgotten, is one of the central issues within the Care for the Future theme. We hope to be able to identify the way in which weather events provide a metacognitive role in memory and to highlight the degree to which weather events per se, relative to other events, including those associated with trauma, assist in memory making. This is important for several reasons. First, recent research is suggesting that cultural memories, experiences and knowledge of past weather and weather events, whatever form these may take, can condition how people comprehend and respond to the problems of risk and uncertainty with respect to climate change (Lazarus and Peppler, 2013). Knowledge of past events may thus serve an important orientating function with respect to adaptability to future change, thereby again feeding into key questions raised through Care for the Future.

Second, such local, ‘experiential’ weather records and memories in turn are assuming new importance as legitimate sources of climate knowledge in themselves and communication of climate change risk is thought to be far more effective and appropriately targeted if it takes into account these relevant personal and vicarious experiences in the form of narrative, memories and anecdotes (Marx et al., 2007). The reconstruction of regionally specific climatic histories and historical extreme weather events, and investigations of the memories of and social responses to these events are, therefore, of crucial significance if we are to be able to assess how people in different contexts might be affected by, might comprehend and respond to future events.

Further details about the project can be found at:Nottingham Extreme weather Project-team
www.nottingham.ac.uk/weatherextremes
blogs.nottingham.ac.uk/weatherextremes
Twitter @weather_extreme
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References and further reading
Anderson, K. (2010) Predicting the weather: Victorians and the science of meteorology. University of Chicago Press

Baker, S.M and Kennedy, P.F. (1994) Death by nostalgia: a diagnosis of context-specific cases. Advances in Consumer Research 21 (1): 169-176

Eden, P (2005) Change in the weather. Continuum Books, London

Lazarus, H. and Peppler, R (2013) Ways of knowing: traditional knowledge as key insight for addressing environmental change, theme introduction, Weather, Climate and Society special collection (2013) http://journals.ametsoc.org/page/Ways [accessed 20/11/2013].

Manley, G (1952) Climate and the British Scene. Collins New Naturalist Series, No. 22

Marx, S.M., Weber, E.U., Orlove, B.S., Leiserowitz, A., Krantz, D.H., Roncoli, C., Phillips, J. (2007) Communication and mental processes: experiential and analytic processing of uncertain climate information. Global Environmental Change 17, 47–58

Rayner, S (2003) “Domesticating Nature: Commentary on the Anthropological Study of Weather and Climate Discourse,” in Strauss and Orlove, Weather, Climate, Culture (cit. n. 17), 277–90, on 281