Introduction

Cultural Heritages and Their Transmission

in Historical Reflections/Réflexions Historiques
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  • 1 University of Aberdeen, UK

This Spring 2021 issue of Historical Reflections/Réflexions Historiques is about cultural heritages and their transmission, focusing on the period from the middle of the eighteenth century to the present. An important stimulus for the creation of the issue was the European Year of Cultural Heritage (EYCH) in 2018. There were four main themes for the EYCH: protection, engagement, sustainability, and innovation. National coordinators and local organizers of events and initiatives across the continent adopted the unifying slogan “Our Heritage. Where the past meets the future.” The articles brought together here serve as an invitation to readers to continue reflecting on subjects and questions that were at the heart of planning for and supporting public participation in EYCH 2018. The European Year of Cultural Heritage provided myriad opportunities to discover the roles played by individuals and groups in the preservation and valorization of natural sites and landscapes, public monuments, cultural institutions, artifacts, digital resources, and intangible cultural heritage. It highlighted educational initiatives to raise awareness of multiple, diverse cultural heritages within communities and to promote intercultural dialogue. It pushed governments and nongovernmental organizations to address matters of financial investment, legal accountability, partnership management, and the shaping of policies on conservation and ownership rights. It challenged professional historians as well as archivists, librarians, archeologists, conservators, and curators to think hard about widening access and about ways of integrating local, national, and international perspectives when communicating with audiences about surviving traces of the past.

This Spring 2021 issue of Historical Reflections/Réflexions Historiques is about cultural heritages and their transmission, focusing on the period from the middle of the eighteenth century to the present. An important stimulus for the creation of the issue was the European Year of Cultural Heritage (EYCH) in 2018. There were four main themes for the EYCH: protection, engagement, sustainability, and innovation. National coordinators and local organizers of events and initiatives across the continent adopted the unifying slogan “Our Heritage. Where the past meets the future.1 The articles brought together here serve as an invitation to readers to continue reflecting on subjects and questions that were at the heart of planning for and supporting public participation in EYCH 2018.2 The European Year of Cultural Heritage provided myriad opportunities to discover the roles played by individuals and groups in the preservation and valorization of natural sites and landscapes, public monuments, cultural institutions, artifacts, digital resources, and intangible cultural heritage. It highlighted educational initiatives to raise awareness of multiple, diverse cultural heritages within communities and to promote intercultural dialogue. It pushed governments and nongovernmental organizations to address matters of financial investment, legal accountability, partnership management, and the shaping of policies on conservation and ownership rights. It challenged professional historians as well as archivists, librarians, archeologists, conservators, and curators to think hard about widening access and about ways of integrating local, national, and international perspectives when communicating with audiences about surviving traces of the past.3

At the formal launch of the EYCH in Brussels, and numerous subsequent gatherings, people from all parts of Europe were asked to share knowledge and to define future priorities.4 Communications about the EYCH reminded participants of the principles set out in the Council of Europe's 2005 statement on the value of cultural heritage for society, which is otherwise known as the Faro Convention.5 In signing the statement at Faro, representatives of the twenty-eight member states of the European Union recognized the need “to put people and human values at the center of an enlarged and cross-disciplinary concept of cultural heritage.” The signatories of the Faro Convention agreed that “every person has a right to engage with the cultural heritage of their choice, while respecting the rights and freedoms of others, as an aspect of the right freely to participate in cultural life enshrined in the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948) and guaranteed by the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (1966).”6 One of the UN bodies—the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO)—contributes at the international level to the rules, institutions, and practices concerning heritages of all kinds. Goals and aspirations for the future are already being set, for example in the UN 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development, where the role of cultural heritage is explained in terms of supporting global citizenship, cultural diversity, and intercultural dialogue.7

Article 2 of the Faro Convention provides a set of definitions. First, it states that cultural heritage is “a group of resources inherited from the past which people identify, independently of ownership, as a reflection and expression of their constantly evolving values, beliefs, knowledge and traditions. It includes all aspects of the environment resulting from the interaction between people and places through time.” Second, it proposes that a heritage community “consists of people who value specific aspects of cultural heritage which they wish, within the framework of public action, to sustain and transmit to future generations.”8 The Faro Convention emphasizes the need for equitable treatment of cultural heritages across Europe, which constitute “a shared source of remembrance, understanding, identity, cohesion and creativity.” European citizens have rights and obligations that require efforts to achieve mutual understanding and to promote positive relations, taking into account linguistic diversity. “Everyone, alone or collectively, has the responsibility to respect the cultural heritage of others as much as their own heritage.”9

The subject of Leonard Rosenband's article in this issue of Historical Reflections/Réflexions Historiques is the production of fine paper and pottery as well as watertight ships in the Europe of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Mills and shipyards established by Josiah Wedgewood, the Montgolfier family, and Samuel Bentham in Britain and France were labor environments characterized by strict hierarchy and discipline. During the early industrial era, bosses sought to control the exercise and reproduction of skills. Workers deployed tools, techniques, and materials in the creation of novel and familiar products.

In the case of papermaking, Rosenband explains that across Europe under the Old Regime paperworkers “still spoke of masters, journeymen, and apprentices; recognized standards for proper entry into each rank; and celebrated their brothers’ passages up the craft ladder.” These kinds of human interactions have been portrayed in some marvelous novels about the lives of paperworkers. One thinks of Henri Pourrat's Dans l'herbe des trois vallées, written in the France of the interwar years, with its rich description of the mills in and around Ambert.10 More recently, Albert Pignol has taken up the subject in L'apprenti papetier, which is also set in the Auvergne. Pignol skillfully blends a romantic story with details about the secrets of papermaking that were jealously guarded in the territory where the Montgolfier family set up their first mills.11

From his extensive archival research, Rosenband provides us with historical analysis of the “hours and efforts of Europe's journeymen paperworkers” who labored in the mills established by the Montgolfiers in France. He enriches this analysis by making a comparative study of conditions in the pottery works established by Josiah Wedgewood and in the naval shipyards established by Samuel Bentham in Britain. The products, materials, and techniques differed between trades, but Rosenband finds that across the various locations for goods manufacture, on both sides of the English Channel, the employers “were managing to rule.” Undoubtedly, some practices on shopfloors were never documented, or if there was some form of oral account transcribed in writing it may have been destroyed. The evidence that does exist provides insights about the complexity of power relations in the transformation of apprentices into employees, and about the circumstances in which loyalty to the master took priority over solidarity with fellow workers.

“Innovations” with regard to paper, pottery, and ships look different in Europe today. The concept of paperless work practices is connected with efforts to reduce waste, conserve energy, and reform human habits in order to protect the Earth's natural environment. Porcelain china tureens and tea sets are cleared out in garage sales, or given away to thrift shops, because food and drink might be ordered on the Internet, or from one's seat in an airplane, rather than prepared and consumed in the company of friends and family at home.

As craft industries, papermaking, pottery, and wooden shipbuilding continue to involve savoir-faire, but that “know-how” has come to be understood in terms of intangible cultural heritage. Various projects that were documented in reports for the EYCH in 2018 illustrate the transmission of knowledge and skills. As a form of apprenticeship scheme, Crafts Traditions in Georgia provides “a small grants program for local crafts producers aimed at transferring their knowledge to future generations.” It involves the promotion of crafts revitalization by 600 individual artisans and crafts-based businesses all over Georgia.12 In Norway, the Norwegian Coastal Federation (Forbundet Kysten) was established in 1979 for the preservation of historic vessels, coastal culture, and maritime heritage. Some 126 local coastal associations are members, and a further 10,500 individuals and organizations subscribe and contribute in various ways.13 Volunteering and training schemes for cultural-heritage-related activities enable people of all ages to develop self-confidence and professional expertise as part of life-long learning. In Spain, the Escuela Taller (Training School) provides teaching of specialist craft and heritage-building and landscaping skills, specifically for ongoing repair and regeneration of sites. In France, Acta Vista is an association that supports the employment of people engaged in vocational pathways in the building trades.14 In Romania, the Mihai Eminescu Trust incorporates education in building skills as part of its “Whole Village Concept.”15

The second article in this special issue is by Eloise Grey, who, like Leonard Rosenband, has research interests in journeys undertaken by men for work during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Grey has studied the archive of the Ogilvie-Forbes, a Scottish gentry family, to understand the consequences of sons going abroad for periods of “sojourning.” Theodore Forbes was brought up in northeast Scotland and fathered one illegitimate son by a working-class Scottish woman, Isobel MacDonald, prior to taking up a position with the East India Company in 1808. Following his arrival in India, Theodore met an Armenian-Indian woman, Eliza Kewark, with whom he pursued another relationship. This couple lived first in the port town of Surat (in present-day Gujarat) and then moved to Mocha on the Arabian Peninsula. During their time in Mocha, Theodore fathered two surviving children by Eliza Kewark, and there is written evidence of the couple's mutual affection and physical attraction. In 1815, however, when Theodore was invited to become a partner in the private trading house of Forbes & Co., he realized that for reasons of propriety and the reputation of the firm Eliza and their two children could not accompany him to live in Bombay.

Theodore believed that his loyalty toward Forbes & Co. had to take priority over his emotional and sexual feelings toward his partner, Eliza. In the “management” of Theodore's separation from Eliza, family members back in northeast Scotland played a strategic and practical role because they took charge of the couple's illegitimate children. Grey has uncovered a clutch of letters about this painful period in the lives of Theodore and Eliza, noting that there are oblique patches in the archive too, for “silence was also a tool of management.”

Grey situates her case study from northeast Scotland and India within the growing historiography on empire and sexualities, showing how “Europe was produced by its encounters as much as colonial spaces were produced by theirs.” The lower gentry milieu as well as the wealthier aristocratic circles of Britain and continental Europe are being researched by scholars interested in heritage spaces and artifacts that belonged to elites.16 Landed properties range from country manors that were lived in year-round to the rarely occupied mansions of absentee landlords. Many of them are still in private ownership and are significant drawcards in Europe's tourism industry, as demonstrated during the Private Heritage Week and celebration of gardens for the EYCH in 2018.17

The authors of the report Heritage Is Ours point out that “it is important to take into account that there is also ‘bad’ heritage; heritage that demeans some while unjustly elevating others.”18 As Višnja Kisić argues, “heritage is being understood as a fluid and evolving sphere which is continuously reshaped, re-formulated and in the making.” A “plurality of new actors in the heritage field has paved the way for acknowledging the plurality of interests and dissonances concerning heritage interpretations.”19 Research on indigenous heritages in India, the Middle East, Canada, the Americas, Africa, Australia, and the Asia-Pacific is bringing “new voices” to the fore.20 “Instead of viewing heritage as having an unquestionable positive prefix, we have to remember that numerous heritage practices and traditions are the bastions of patriarchy, colonialism, ageism and other discriminative and enslaving ideologies.”21

Links between Europe and other parts of the world are further discussed in the third article of this special issue, which is written by Lorraine Macknight. Through careful examination of the cultural transmission of hymns, from nineteenth-century Germany and England to colonial Australia, Macknight contributes to knowledge about the “deep-seated interdependence” between intangible cultural heritage and tangible cultural and natural heritage.22 At the center of her analysis is a particular artifact: an 1833 hymnbook, the Gesangbuch, conceived by the Prussian diplomat Christian Karl (Charles) Josias von Bunsen (1791–1860). Various translations of hymns from the Gesangbuch found their way into English-language hymnbooks, thanks to the work of hymn translators who were personally known to Bunsen. One of these translators, Catherine Winkworth (1827–1878), is an important historical figure for her role in the history of Australian hymnody.

The UNESCO Convention for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage includes in its coverage “oral traditions and expressions, including language as a vehicle of the intangible cultural heritage.”23 Bunsen and Winkworth, although from rather different social backgrounds, lived in era when families of the middle and upper classes were extremely conscious of the importance of mastering several languages and of proper training in elocution. Success in a European diplomatic career—of which Bunsen was, on the whole, an exemplar—required immersion in a deeply literate environment from an early age, which consisted in learning linguistic and cultural subtleties of tone, gesture, comportment, and facial expressions. Bunsen's professional work included challenges and excitement as well as difficulties; in that respect, his experiences have some commonality with the experiences of Scottish sojourners in India like Theodore Forbes. Elite masculinity in the nineteenth century carried social expectations of a life of action and movement, of juggling roles and responsibilities. As Macknight argues, Bunsen was constantly negotiating private loyalties to his faith as a Christian and his public status as a diplomat.

Piecing together evidence about the religious sentiments and affiliations of individuals in the past, as well as the characteristics of religious groups whose names may be unfamiliar except to specialists, is an exacting task for historians. It is also a vital one for the global community of scholars, church leaders, members of the general public, and diverse organizations who are taking forward projects for “The Future of Religious Heritage.”24 The protection of sacred spaces, and the promotion of positive relations between people of different faiths, starts with an effort to acquire and to share knowledge. Hymnbooks are a relatively understudied source for historians. Attention to hymns, and to the cultural contexts in which they were sung, illustrates the widening scope of possibilities for discussion and debate about conservation and transmission. As a report for the European Commission states, “a passion, no less, exists for collecting historical artefacts, nurturing traditions and protecting historic places. This enthusiasm has moved far beyond the traditional boundaries of the monument and the museum case.”25

Italy—a country where Bunsen lived from 1816 to 1838 to conduct negotiations in Rome—is also the focus of Nikolaos Mavropoulos's article in this special issue. Mavropoulos's research provides another angle on the history of politics and diplomacy in Europe; his article deals with the imposition of political and administrative systems by military force during colonial warfare. In the late nineteenth century, Italy was seeking to bolster its standing in relation to the Great Powers. Mavropoulos investigates Italian motives for the conquest of Eritrea using archival records and newspapers. Italy's legacies in Africa included a bitter war, and this dark side of Italian history researched by Mavropolous contrasts with a number of celebratory approaches to Italian cultural heritages today. Projects in twenty-first-century Italy include the Apprendisti Ciceroni for youngsters to learn how to interpret sites as cultural guides with the support of “education delegates” from the Fondo Ambiente Italiano.26 I luoghi del cuore (Places I Love) is a scheme to encourage citizens to nominate the places special to them that they would like to see protected; people are invited to vote for their favorite nomination.27 The crowdfunding platform For Italy enables people from all over the world “to show their love of Italy, interact with each other and contribute concretely to the protection of Italy's unique art and culture (including food and lifestyle).”28

Of course, it is precisely historians’ concern to refrain from “value” judgments, and to resist commercial or popular pressures that may distract from or distort the research process of analyzing surviving traces of the past that has for a long time been at the crux of awkwardness with the subject of heritage.29 Perhaps the most recognizable mission of national and world heritage authorities is to establish criteria and to undertake a selection based on “quality” and “universal value.”30 Historians, on the other hand, like archeologists, do not engage in hierarchical ranking of sources; it is not the beauty of an object or document, for example, that determines whether or not it constitutes evidence and becomes a subject of scholarly interpretation. Heritage studies as a field of academic research necessarily draws upon knowledge developed in the discipline of history as well as knowledge developed in other disciplines. Critical reflection—alongside some rather more celebratory approaches—is an increasingly clear and crucial component of how the public engages with cultural heritage initiatives.

Public access to war archives is a right of citizens—but can be a contentious battlefield in itself, when citizens choose to exercise that right. The Croatian Memories Archive, one of the projects reported on for the EYCH, is an initiative to make available online video-recorded testimonies of war experiences.31 “Rather than telling a heroic story of leaders and their cohesive nation,” the Croatian Memories Archive is designed to bring out “the diversity of individual voices” and to create “a multi-perspective heritage” that can be further researched and used for educational purposes. The project illustrates how “civil society involvement and citizen engagement in relation to contested heritage have deep relations to human rights, human dignity and dialogue in post-conflict societies.”32

In the fifth article of this special issue, Josephine Hoegaerts casts her eyes to the future in developing a methodology for use of sound archives. Hoegaerts shares a concern that is common to historians and to heritage specialists who look for “ways to ‘listen anew’ to familiar sources as well as less conventional source material.” She builds on work conducted across the humanities that has provided “approaches to deal with aspects of voices, vocality and their sounds.” As Hoegaerts observes, French historian Arlette Farge is among those scholars who have researched “the lives of those who have landed in the archives against their will.” In Le goût de l'archive, Farge discussed the nature of institutional archives where written traces exist because “people spoke of things that would have remained unsaid if a destabilizing social event had not occurred.”33 Harassment and bullying in workplaces, pregnancy outside of wedlock, and rape during warfare are among the types of circumstances in which the individuals who suffer, as well as bystanders, may keep silent, and where “erasure” and “closure” are in the minds of those who wield power to control institutional or family memory. But sometimes it is precisely in circumstances of injustice and violence where individuals spoke out: either because of pressure from others or voluntarily, as the Armenian-Indian woman Eliza Kewark bravely chose to do.

Hoegaerts proposes a four-step methodology for researching the sounds of humanity. Her ideas are relevant to researchers in diverse fields including the history of science, cultural history, and the history of the body, as well as scholars working on intangible cultural heritage such as languages, music, film, dance, and theater. The article's methodology may also open up interesting possibilities for students and members of the public thinking about sounds in their own environments. In Finland, for instance, Näppärit is a landmark project of musical heritage.34

One of the ten key findings of the Cultural Heritage Counts for Europe report is that heritage “provides an essential stimulus to education and lifelong learning, including a better understanding of history as well as feelings of civic pride and belonging, and fosters co-operation and personal development.”35 How, then, might historians, as individuals and collectively, bring the knowledge developed in our discipline to the forefront of twenty-first-century debates? What might be envisaged as the future for cultural heritages?

First, we can be confident that the EYCH in 2018 produced wide-ranging impacts that are ongoing and that will be measured in different ways. Initiatives to study and learn about cultural heritages are flourishing, with greater receptiveness to new voices and innovative technologies for communication. Policymaking structures and institutions will continue to adapt and evolve in the mission to improve knowledge and protect landscapes, environments, historical records, objects, and intangibles. Citizens generate projects, donate funds for restoration, and show care toward treasured places, not least by casting a vote in online ballots. These are some of the activities seen to help “deliver social cohesion in communities across Europe, providing a framework for participation and engagement and fostering integration.”36 It is crucial not to take all of these examples of participation for granted, either in Europe or elsewhere throughout the world. The European Heritage Alliance 3.3 brings together forty-four European and international networks for partnership-building and knowledge exchange. The dynamics of learning that were energized through the EYCH must be sustained by discussions that reach far beyond the continent.

Second, as leaders of communities and members of the public respond to urgent global problems, notably climate change, the world of culture cannot be separated from the world of science.37 Imagining and creating a sustainable future depends upon the integration of cultural and scientific knowledge, as outlined in the UN 2030 Agenda and work by UNESCO. An illustration of citizens’ commitment to such integration of knowledges is the Sustainable Aegean Program in Greece set up by Elliniki Etairia (Society for the Environment and Cultural Heritage).38 In 2020 the ravaging effects of COVID-19 have created havoc in all sectors of the global economy, including the arts and culture. Innumerable cancellations of events dismay artists, performers, choreographers, set designers, costume and make-up assistants, technicians, ticket-sellers, and cleaners whose paid work hours tend, by nature, to be intermittent and who depend upon public audience attendance for their livelihoods. Newspaper headlines warn of the curtain falling on culture.

Various financial and statistical studies show the solid reasons for continuing to invest in arts and culture, which, like science, contribute to economic growth. In the French economy as it stood in 2010, an estimated 30,000 to 40,000 jobs were directly connected with cultural heritage, with a further 200,000 to 250,000 jobs being indirectly impacted, essentially through tourism. Every euro invested in cultural heritage in France led to ten euros of economic activity.39 Another report in 2016 found that some 620,000 people were working in French cultural sectors—that is, employment for roughly 2.4 percent of France's active population.40 Such economic considerations assume even greater proportions when a view is taken across the continent. In 2014 tourism contributed around 415 billion euros to the European Union's Gross Domestic Product and employed 15.2 million citizens, many of whose jobs are linked to cultural heritage.41

A third point, then, leading on from sustainability, is that to tackle the terrible effects of a global pandemic, dangerous political populism, and damage to the Earth's natural environment, there must be willingness and maturity to keep creating solutions for inclusivity. Digital technologies and their significance were highlighted fifteen years ago in the Faro Convention.42 The Council of Europe's Strategy for European Cultural Heritage in the Twenty-First Century includes recommendations about accessibility for people of all ages with or without a mental or physical disability; it also provides web-based resources on good practice.43 In 2020 communities of scholars have been rapidly discovering more about how the staging of virtual conferences and other events open up opportunities for recording, providing captions, linking with podcasts, reaching larger audiences through social media, and permanent recordkeeping. New regulations that require public sector bodies to make their websites more user-friendly, including for people with disabilities and learning difficulties, shape universities’ preparations for teaching and learning wholly, or in large part, online.

The importance of inclusivity is a recurring message across a report by the Horizon 2020 Expert Group on Cultural Heritage. On the topic of “Economy,” the Group found that promoting innovative finance, investment, governance, management, and business models increases the effectiveness of cultural heritage as an economic production factor: “All over Europe, there have been experiments in developing new models of financing for cultural heritage.”44 On “Society” and “Environment,” the Group pointed out that “cultural heritage has traditionally been identified, protected, and maintained by heritage specialists and/or professional heritage institutions. Although this has brought many benefits it has resulted in a heritage management system in which local communities often bear little responsibility for their own cultural landscapes, monuments, collections and intangible heritage.”45 New collective arrangements and strategies for management must begin from “stronger engagement and involvement of local communities.”46

There are signs that the recognition of “the need for local involvement in the preservation of European heritage is gaining momentum.”47 We must not underestimate, however, the challenges facing tiny villages and rural towns where inhabitants wish to take responsibility but face a “wall” of financial and administrative constraints, and where resource shortages are compounded by geographical distance from state offices located in metropoles. Daily struggles go on to ensure continuity of preservation efforts in depopulated remote areas. “It is difficult to understand why previous generations have not recognized the value of some demolished heritage sites until it has been too late, but similar acts are happening around us still today … we are simply unable to see the failures of our own generations.”48

For professional historians working in academia, and in the primary and secondary education sectors, classes with pupils or students are “where the past meets the future.” Whether in a schoolroom, lecture hall, or online, it is historians’ engagement with the questions that young people ask them that enables better understanding of sources and helps catalyze fresh and original interpretations for the next crop of historical research and scholarship. Just as teachers play fundamental roles in “stimulating young people to engage with their environment,” so too universities, schools, and vocational training colleges ought to be inclusive places where youth are encouraged “to see the value of heritage sites around them.”49 As professional historians investigate human activities in the past through critical inquiry and interpretation, there will always be differences in our approaches and reactions to conceptions and manifestations of heritage. But it is not a topic to be dismissed as popular entertainment for the masses. Rather, the cultural heritages that societies are discovering more about today must be presented, explained, and made accessible to public audiences, in all their diversity and complexity. As the ecologist Baba Dioum wisely put it: “In the end we will conserve only what we love. We will love only what we understand. We will understand only what we are taught.”50

Notes

1

European Union, 2018 European Year of Cultural Heritage: #EuropeForCulture. Visual Identity Toolkit (November 2017), 4, https://matis.hr/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/eych2018/pdf.

2

Decision (EU) 2017/864 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 17 May 2017 on a European Year of Cultural Heritage. Official Journal of the European Union, 20 May 2017.

3

On widening access for people with disabilities, see Decision (EU) 2017/864, 2, point 9.

4

Numerous publications from Creative Europe and the European Commission provide information on events that were held in public institutions such as museums, galleries, and gardens; Private Heritage Week; the Digital Humanities Conference; and the European Heritage Summit. EYCH newsletters and updates were disseminated by email and social media through 2018. One of the outcomes from the EYCH was the adoption of a European Heritage Label.

5

Council of Europe, Framework Convention on the Value of Cultural Heritage for Society, Faro, 27 October 2005. Council of Europe Treaty Series no. 199 (hereafter Faro Convention 2005).

6

Faro Convention 2005, Preamble.

7

Decision (EU) 2017/864, 2, point 12.

8

Faro Convention 2005, Article 2, Definitions.

9

Faro Convention 2005, Article 3, The Common Heritage of Europe, and Article 4, Rights and Responsibilities. For an elaboration on rights, see Anna-Maija Halme, Tapani Mustonen, Jussi-Pekka Taavitsainen, Suzie Thomas, and Astrid Weij (eds.), Heritage Is Ours: Citizens Participating in Decision Making (Helsinki: Europa Nostra, 2018), 74 − 93. On diversity, see Antonio A. Arantes, “Diversity, Heritage and Cultural Politics,” Theory, Culture and Society 24, no. 7–8 (2007): 290 − 296, doi:10.1177/02632764070240072506.

10

Henri Pourrat, Dans l'herbe des trois vallées [In the grass of three valleys] (Paris: Albin Michel, 1943).

11

Albert Pignol, L'apprenti papetier [The apprentice papermaker] (Vertaison: Éditions La Galipote, 2015), 23.

12

“Rejuvenating Intangible Heritage: Georgian Crafts,” in Awareness Raising and Advocacy: Learning Kit for Heritage Civil Society Organisations, ed. Višnja Kisić and Goran Tomka (The Hague: Europa Nostra, 2018), 56 − 58.

13

Erik Schultz, “The Norwegian Coastal Federation: A Successful ‘Bottom-Up’ Approach,” in Heritage Is Ours: Citizens Participating in Decision Making, ed. Anna-Maija Halme, Tapani Mustonen, Jussi-Pekka Taavitsainen, Suzie Thomas, and Astrid Weij (Helsinki: Europa Nostra, 2018), 48 − 51.

14

Getting Cultural Heritage to Work for Europe. Report of the Horizon 2020 Expert Group on Cultural Heritage (Luxembourg: Publications Office of the European Union, 2015), 9 (society) and 14 − 15 (case studies). See also http://www.actavista.fr.

15

“New Perspectives for Villages: Whole Village Concept, Romania,” in Citizen Engagement and Education: Learning Kit for Heritage Civil Society Organisations, ed. Višnja Kisić and Goran Tomka (The Hague: Europa Nostra, 2018), 56 − 58. See also http://wwwmihaieminescutrust.ro.

16

In Ireland and Britain, for example, the Centre for the Study of Historic Irish Houses and Estates (Maynooth University) and Yorkshire Country House Partnership facilitate international conferences and publications. The European Network for Country House and Estate Research (ENCOUNTER) is similarly active and based in Denmark.

17

The European Historic Houses Association, based in Brussels, is a key source of statistics and other information, including information about the Private Heritage Week, 24 − 27 May 2018. See http://www.europeanhistorichouses.eu. On the celebration of gardens, 1 − 3 June 2018, see https://rendezvousauxjardins.culturecommunication.gouv.fr.

18

Halme et al., Heritage Is Ours, 8.

19

Višnja Kisić, “Heritage in the Era of Plurality” in Heritage Is Ours: Citizens Participating in Decision Making, ed. Anna-Maija Halme, Tapani Mustonen, Jussi-Pekka Taavitsainen, Suzie Thomas, and Astrid Weij (Helsinki: Europa Nostra, 2018), 134 − 140, here 135.

20

Silke von Lewinski (ed.), Indigenous Heritage and Intellectual Property: Genetic Resources, Traditional Knowledge and Folklore, 2nd ed. (Alphen aan den Rijn: Kluwer Law International, 2008); Australia Council for the Arts, Protocols for Producing Indigenous Australian Writing, 2nd ed. (Surry Hills: Australian Government, 2007); Irene Maffi and Rami Daher (eds.), The Politics and Practices of Cultural Heritage in the Middle East: Positioning the Material Past in Contemporary Societies (London: I. B. Tauris, 2014).

21

Kisić, “Heritage in the Era of Plurality,” 138.

22

UNESCO Convention for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage (Paris: UNESCO, 17 October 2003), 1. See also Chiara Bortolotto (ed.) Le Patrimoine culturel immatériel: les enjeux, les problématiques, les pratiques [Intangible cultural heritage: Issues, problems, practices] (Paris: Éditions de la Maison des Sciences de l'Homme, 2011).

23

UNESCO Convention for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage, Article 2, Definitions, 2.

24

The Future of Religious Heritage is a Brussels-based organization that held a major international conference during the EYCH in 2018. See http://www.frh-europe.org. For a case study of public involvement, see “Caring for Religious Heritage: Faith in Maintenance, United Kingdom,” in Kisić and Tomka, Citizen Engagement, 53 − 55, and the website of the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings: http://www.spab.org.uk.

25

Getting Cultural Heritage to Work for Europe, 6. On the evolution of museums, see, for example, Eilean Hooper-Greenhill, Museums and the Shaping of Knowledge (London: Routledge, 1992); Marilena Alivizatou, “Museums and Intangible Heritage: The Dynamics of an ‘Unconventional’ Relationship,” Papers from the Institute of Archaeology 17 (2006): 47 − 57; Dominique Poulot, Patrimoine et musées: L'institution de la culture [Heritage and museums: The institution of culture] 2nd ed. (Vanves: Hachette, 2014); and Andrea Meyer and Bénédicte Savoy, The Museum Is Open: Towards a Transnational History of Museums 1750 − 1940 (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2014).

26

“Interpret Your City: Apprendisti Ciceroni, Italy,” in Citizen Engagement and Education: Learning Kit for Heritage Civil Society Organisations, ed. Višnja Kisić and Goran Tomka (The Hague: Europa Nostra, 2018), 59 − 61. See also http://www.faiscuola.it.

27

Višnja Kisić and Goran Tomka, Fundraising: Learning Kit for Heritage Civil Society Organisations (The Hague: Europa Nostra, 2018), 46.

28

Getting Cultural Heritage to Work for Europe, 18. See also http://www.foritaly.org.

29

The relationship and distinctions between history and heritage have been widely explored, for example by David Lowenthal in The Past Is a Foreign Country (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985) and The Heritage Crusade and the Spoils of History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998). On heritage movements in three countries, see Astrid Swenson, The Rise of Heritage: Preserving the Past in France, Germany, and Britain 1789 − 1914 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015).

30

Roger P. Droit, Humanity in the Making: Overview of the Intellectual History of UNESCO, 1945 − 2005 (Paris: UNESCO, 2005); Jukka Jokilehto, “World Heritage: Observations on Decisions Related to Cultural Heritage,” Journal of Cultural Heritage Management and Sustainable Development 1, no. 1 (2011): 61 − 74, doi:10.1108/20441261111129942; Sophia Labadi, UNESCO, Cultural Heritage and Outstanding Universal Value (Walnut Creek, CA: Left Coast Press, 2013).

31

“Unveiling Memories of Wars: Croatian Memories Archive,” in Citizen Engagement and Education: Learning Kit for Heritage Civil Society Organisations, ed. Višnja Kisić and Goran Tomka (The Hague: Europa Nostra, 2018), 62 − 64. See also http://www.croatianmemories.org.

32

Kisić and Tomka, Citizen Engagement, 64.

33

Arlette Farge, Le goût de l'archive (Paris: Seuil, 1989). An English translation, The Allure of the Archives (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2013), is cited by Hoegaerts in this issue of the journal.

34

“Musical Heritage for All: Näppärit, Finland,” Citizen Engagement and Education: Learning Kit for Heritage Civil Society Organisations, ed. Višnja Kisić and Goran Tomka (The Hague: Europa Nostra, 2018), 47 − 49. See also http://www.napparit.fi.

35

Europa Nostra, Cultural Heritage Counts for Europe (The Hague: Europa Nostra, 2015), key finding 9.

36

Europa Nostra, Cultural Heritage Counts for Europe, key finding 10.

37

Maria Luisa Parracchini, Pier Carlo Zingari, and Carlo Blasi (eds.), Reconnecting Natural and Cultural Capital: Contributions from Science and Policy (Luxembourg: Publications Office of the European Union, 2018); Marjatta Sihvonen, “Biodiversity, Cultural Heritage, and Science Communication: How to Spread the Message of Irreplaceable Values?” in Heritage Is Ours: Citizens Participating in Decision Making, ed. Anna-Maija Halme, Tapani Mustonen, Jussi-Pekka Taavitsainen, Suzie Thomas, and Astrid Weij (Helsinki: Europa Nostra, 2018), 38 − 41.

38

“Linking Heritage with Desired Future: Sustainable Aegean Programme, Greece,” in Citizen Engagement and Education: Learning Kit for Heritage Civil Society Organisations, ed. Višnja Kisić and Goran Tomka (The Hague: Europa Nostra, 2018), 44 − 46. See also http://www.egaio.wordpress.com.

39

Alberic de Montgolfier, Rapport sur la valorisation du patrimoine culturel [Report on the valorization of cultural heritage]. Presented to the President of the Republic, 8 October 2010. Paris, 3.

40

Tristan Picard, Culture chiffres: Le poids économique direct de la culture en 2016 [Culture figures: The direct economic weight of culture in 2016] (Paris: Ministère de la Culture et de la Communication et Département des études, de la prospective et des statistiques, 2018), 1 − 3.

41

Getting Cultural Heritage to Work for Europe, 6.

42

Faro Convention 2005, Article 14, Cultural Heritage and the Information Society.

43

Conseil d'Europe, Stratégie pour le patrimoine culturel au XXIe siècle [Strategy for European cultural heritage in the twenty-first century]. Recommended by the Committee of Ministers to State Members, 22 February 2017. Brussels. Examples of action on p. 45. See the Council of Europe webpage: http://www.coe.int/en/web/culture-and-heritage/cultural-heritage.

44

Getting Cultural Heritage to Work for Europe, Economy, 8.

45

Getting Cultural Heritage to Work for Europe, Society, 8.

46

Getting Cultural Heritage to Work for Europe, Environment, 9.

47

Schultz, “The Norwegian Coastal Federation,” in Heritage Is Ours: Citizens Participating in Decision Making, ed. Anna-Maija Halme, Tapani Mustonen, Jussi-Pekka Taavitsainen, Suzie Thomas, and Astrid Weij (Helsinki: Europa Nostra, 2018), 48 − 51.

48

Halme et al., Heritage Is Ours, 8.

49

Getting Cultural Heritage to Work for Europe, Executive summary, 5; Halme et al., Heritage Is Ours, 8.

50

From a speech made by Baba Dioum (b. 1937) to the General Assembly of the International Union for the Conservation of Nature in New Delhi India, 1968.

Contributor Notes

Elizabeth C. Macknight is Senior Lecturer in European History at King's College, University of Aberdeen, and a Scottish Crucible Alumna of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. She was educated in Australia and France. Email: e.macknight@abdn.ac.uk

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