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O moştenire culturală a
lemnului: cunoştinţe şi metode
Göran ANDERSSON*
Peter Sjömar**
Cu toate că artefactele
constituie surse importante în cercetarea condiţiilor istorice ale
realizării construcţiilor, studiile etnologice contemporane
acordă o atenţie sporită interviurilor şi descrierilor
scrise, furnizori rapizi de informaţie la nivel general, dar care pierd
din vedere valori ale detaliilor unui obiect ca rezultat al
manufacturării.
Materialul din care este
realizat un obiect sau o construcţie constituie vehicolul unui tip de
informaţie cu totul diferit de cel conţinut în textul scris şi
reclamă o artă a citirii şi a interpretării; artefactele
sunt expresia epocii căreia îi aparţin, sunt expresia ideologiei, a
sentimentelor, a nevoilor şi cunoştinţelor ce o definesc; cu
alte cuvinte, studiind obiectele şi construcţiile putem
învăţa ceva despre generaţiile anterioare de constructori
într-un context istoric concret.
Dacă dorim să
cercetăm istoria arhitecturii cu ajutorul metodelor de lucru şi
produsului finit rezultat, actul muncii este punctul de pornire al
investigaţiei. Actul muncii este transpunerea în concret a unor gânduri,
idei şi sentimente, iar înţelegerea construcţiilor ca pe rezultate
ale muncii ne permite să facem afirmaţii mai sigure despre aceste
idei şi sentimente care sunt cauză şi creează
condiţiile premergătoare creaţiei.
Istoria arhitecturii a
neglijat aspectul muncii iar ştiinţa a fost interesată într-o
foarte mică măsură de meşteşug. De aceea, prin
proiectul “Construcţiile de lemn în societatea pre-modernă –
cunoştinţe şi metode”, intenţionăm să punem
problema construcţiei, a materialelor, a artizanatului, uneltelor şi
maşinilor.
Împreună cu o nouă
categorie de interpreţi ai moştenirii culturale,
meşteşugarii, dorim să examinăm aspectul real al
lucrurilor, felul în care acestea sunt realizate şi să
interpretăm cauzele care au dus la crearea lor.
Conservarea
construcţiilor şi workshop-urile
Conservarea clădirilor
este în strânsă legătură cu construcţia lor, de la
aspectele generale până la cele mai mici detalii, şi cu istoria
oglindită în ele; conservarea unui edificiu sfârşeşte
întotdeauna într-un act de construcţie, fapt de o potrivă important
şi provocator prin intervenţia asupra istoriei. Casele nu pot fi
conservate doar pe hârtie, nu există metode rapide de conservare cu efect
imediat, ci trebuie, pe de o parte, înţeles sensul construcţiei, al
materialului şi metodelor de lucru, iar pe de altă parte trebuie
cunoscută istoria edificiului în cauză, ca parte a istoriei
arhitecturii.
Industrializarea
societăţii europene a înlocuit metodele tradiţionale de
construcţie cu sistemul de producţie puternic industrializat, fapt ce
a determinat, în Suedia de pildă, o ruptură totală cu
tradiţia. Credem că multe ţări europene se confruntă
cu o situaţie similară. Astăzi ne aflăm în dificultatea de
a mai găsi meşteri capabili să realizeze lucrări de
conservare cu ajutorul aceloraşi materiale, unelte şi tehnici cu care
au fost ridicate edificiile respective şi, totodată, capabili de a
analiza şi interpreta edificiile istorice. Ţinem să subliniem
că măiestria în realizarea obiectelor tradiţionale presupune un
sistem de cunoştinţe, diferit de cel ştiinţific, ce nu
poate fi comunicat verbal sau vizual ci doar transferat direct prin actul
creaţiei, al muncii la care se participă activ. Principalul obiectiv
devine, astfel, familiarizarea meşteşugarilor cu metodele
tradiţionale de prelucrare a lemnului şi implicarea acestora în
interpretarea modului de realizare a monumentului istoric. Deşi diferite
în detaliu, construcţiile europene pre-moderne din lemn dovedesc şi
similarităţi, fiind un patrimoniu comun. Astfel,
meşteşugarii, arhitecţii şi etnologii participă la
restaurarea monumentelor din toate cele şapte ţări participante
la programul iniţiat de noi.
O bisericuţă în
România
În cadrul workshop-ului
desfăşurat în România am participat le restaurarea a două
biserici, dintre care cea mai mică, construită pe la mijlocul
secolului XVII, a suferit modificări substanţiale: uşoare
reparaţii şi lucrări de consolidare acum trei sau patru decenii
şi reconstruirea acoperişului de deasupra altarului, probabil în
secolul 19. Nu am asistat la realizarea unei investigaţii complete asupra
tuturor etapelor de construcţie din istoria monumentului, dar
meşteşugarii şi arhitecţii au fost foarte interesaţi
atât de calitatea originalului, cât şi de lucrările de
reparaţie.
În cadrul aceluiaşi
workshop am avut şansa să vizităm un mare număr de biserici
din regiune, care, dacă nu puteau fi considerate toate nişte
capodopere, cu siguranţă dovedeau evidente calităţi din
punct de vedere al artei prelucrării lemnului (chiar şi
bisericuţa de lângă Racăş, şi ea restaurată în
timpul workshop-ului)
Studiile aprofundate ale
meşterilor participanţi la workshop au dovedit că cei care au
ridicat bisericuţa din Baica nu cunoşteau regulile elementare de
construcţie a caselor din bârne. Bisericuţa a fost mutată la
actuala locaţie de pe un deal şi a suferit câteva reparaţii.
Privind peretele despărţitor dintre naos şi altar, este greu de
înţeles cum s-a realizat potrivirea pereţilor. Problema slabei
calităţi a execuţiei nu se putea pune, ea nefiind
interesantă pentru disciplinele academice tradiţionale; dar ce facem
când este identificată de către meşteri? O bisericuţă
de ţară este rezultatul posibilităţilor şi eforturilor
reunite ale sătenilor. În context regional şi local apare
interesantă întrebarea “de ce această bisericuţă, din acest
sat este, comparativ cu altele, de calitate inferioară?”. Dacă este o
problemă de resurse, atunci despre ce resurse este vorba: sociale,
economice, legate de cunoaştere sau de numărul redus de locuitori?
Câţiva buşteni în
Lituania
În cadrul workshopului din
Lituania am participat la restaurarea unei case şi a unui grânar.
Căsuţa era construită din bârne pe la 1861 şi fusese
demontată şi mutată în valea râului Daugyvene. La examinarea
materialelor de construcţie am constatat, pe lângă slaba calitate a
lemnului de molid din care erau confecţionate bârnele pereţilor,
şi faptul că acestea erau cioplite inegal la capete, atât la exterior
cât şi la interior, afectând calitatea estetică a pereţilor.
Bârnele de la bază erau prelucrate cu fierăstrăul, ceea ce ne-a
făcut să credem că proprietarul nu a dispus de suficiente
resurse şi a continuat construcţia cu buştenii ciopliţi
manual; curios este însă faptul că şi bârnele prelucrate cu
fierăstrăul comportau aceeaşi inegalitate la capete, iar
căsuţa noastră nu era singura construită în această
manieră. Cert este că nimic nu a fost întâmplător, tipul acesta
de construcţie aparţinând probabil unui anume sistem.
Un acoperiş în Suedia
şi o fântână în Germania
Satul Gallejaur a luat
fiinţă la începutul secolului XIX, în mijlocul vastelor păduri
din nordul Suediei. Acolo am descoperit un hambar octogonal, construit în anul
1892 (hambarele octogonale constituiau o caracteristică a zonei în secolul
XIX), al cărui acoperiş era din şiţă. Dedesubt,
planşeul era format din plăci de lemn tăiate şi ajustate
manual, doar cu ajutorul unui topor, pentru a obţine o grosime
similară. Această metodă se utiliza cu precădere în
perioada medievală, mai cu seamă la acoperişurile bisericilor,
diluându-se în timp şi devenind rară în a doua jumătate a
secolului 19. Dacă presupunem că acest acoperiş din 1892 este
unul din ultimele exemple ale acestei metode de construcţie din Suedia,
este firesc să ne întrebăm care ar fi primul? Răspunsul a venit din Germania, dintr-o
localitate în afara Leipzig-ului. Este vorba de vestigiile unei fântâni vechi
de mai bine de 7.000 de ani (datată în jurul anului 5084 î.Ch), ai
cărei pereţi din lemn de stejar sunt realizaţi prin
alăturarea unor plăci tăiate manual. Metoda este similară
celei descrise în cazul hambarului octogonal, plăcile din lemn purtând peste
timp urmele uneltelor care le-au ajustat. Şapte mii de ani îi despart pe
cei doi fermieri care au construit fântâna, respectiv hambarul, însa în ceea ce
priveşte tehnica meşteşugului singura diferenţă
constă în înlocuirea toporului din piatră cu cel din metal.
Din exemplele de
interpretare a monumentelor istorice prezentate în această lucrare
rezultă că acest tip de abordare, de multe ori centrată pe
micile detalii, poate conduce cercetarea în varii direcţii. Întrebări
sunt multe, răspunsurile poate nu sunt întotdeauna suficiente dar,
relaţionându-le cu alte surse istorice putem face lumină în
direcţia dorită, dizolvând graniţele geografice sau
naţionale.
Trecutul reprezintă domeniul
profesional al moştenirii culturale iar prezentul este perspectiva.
Sarcina noastră este aceea de a interpreta trecutul, contribuind la
propria interpretare a unui popor. Totul, de la conservarea materialelor
şi până la aspectele critice şi sociale implicate în redarea
istoriei, se constituie într-o sarcină unică a celui ce
cercetează moştenirea culturală.
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A Cultural
Heritage of Wood: Knowledge and Methods
Göran ANDERSSON*
Peter Sjömar**
The artefacts
are very important as sources when it comes to studies about historical
conditions. Not many doubt that, although there can be a discussion about how
these sources are used. There is often a lack of written sources or they are at
least very fragmentary and the oral sources do not always reach as long back in
history as we many times want. In ethnological contemporary studies the
artefacts many times seems to have lost ground to sources as interviews and
written descriptions that more immediate can give a broader and more easy
available information.
In
architectural history the studies often are about contexts and complexes and
one seldom comes very close; what the single part actually looks like and the
sometimes very fine traces of the manufacturing process.
Processed,
built and used materials are carriers of a different kind of information than
written texts. Buildings and objects call for another art of reading and
thereby also special experiences and methods. To some extent archaeology and
ethnology have tried to deal with this through typologies and chronologies. One
has tried to structure a body of information in, for the purpose and the point
of time, relevant categories. The preconditions have often been that the
objects are a part of, or can be put into, a lapse or a period. It is the
context between the object and the lapse that gives meaning. But the objects,
or mostly the buildings in our case, are also the expression for certain
situations. They are the material result of somebody who did something. They
are signs from a certain point of time of thoughts and ideas, feelings, needs,
means, knowledge and skills. In other words we can learn something about human
beings, for instance previous generations of builders, in a concrete historical
situation.
If we want
to investigate the architectural history through the practical working methods
and the built, material results, the starting-point is simple. Without labour
there would be no buildings. Behind every act in the constructing process there
are feelings and thoughts. It is in the sphere of thoughts and feelings we find
causes, values and standpoints but it is through practical labour that they
will become both buildings and reliable experiences. In the meeting with the
built cultural heritage the first that requires interpretation is historical
work. Therefore it is reasonable to presuppose that if we can understand
buildings as actions of work and building techniques, we will also with more
certainty make statements about the thoughts, ideas and conditions behind.
The labour
is a neglected part of the architectural history. Science has only to a small
extent been interested in the crafts. Our intention with the project “Wooden
constructions in pre-modern society – knowledge and methods” is to put new
questions to buildings, materials, craftsmanship, tools and machinery. Together
with a new category of interpreters of the cultural heritage, the craftsmen, we
want to examine what the things look like, how they are made and try to
interpret the causes that have directed the workmanship.
Building
conservation and the workshops
Building
conservation always have to deal with the real building - both overall and down
to the smallest objects and details - and about what kind of history is
represented within the building. And building conservation always ends up in
building actions. This is both important and challenging because we are doing
something with history. We intervene in history as one of the first statements
in the Venice Charter says. Houses cannot be preserved just on the paper and
there is no “preservation remedy” that can be powdered over our buildings and
landscapes. Accordingly the building conservation needs a standpoint to the
actual historical materials.
To
formulate the possibilities and to recognise different kind of historical
values for these standpoints there is a need for knowledge. We think that the
required knowledge therefore follows two lines: to understand the meanings in
constructions, materials and working methods we need knowledge about the
history of building in practice. To make choices among levels and extension in
a restoration, the overall knowledge about architectural history is needed.
Between these two lines there must be connections. One discovery in the detailed
observation is important for the interpretation of the overall perspective and
reversed.
The industrialisation of the European society has to a
large extent changed the methods of building. The traditional way of building
has been replaced by a highly industrialised production system. In Sweden there
was a total brake with the traditional way of building and there is no
continuos, living tradition in the crafts related to traditional wooden
constructions. We think the situation is similar in many other European
countries. We have ended up in a situation where there is extremely difficult
to find craftsmen skilled in traditional crafts related to traditional or
pre-modern ways of building and that are capable of doing conservation work
with the same materials, tools and techniques that once was used to erect these
historic buildings. The implication of this is that it is very difficult to
preserve historic wooden buildings “within its own logic”.
The preservation
is also depending upon the existence of craftsmen that are capable of making
detailed analysis and interpretations of the historical constructions. This
loss of accumulated knowledge is a fundamental problem today as the
modern, scientific (natural science) paradigm only offers a number of modern
skills, materials and methods, very different from the traditional knowledge of
the craftsmen and the local community.
An
important thing we must take into account is that skills in crafts represent a system
of knowledge different from scientific knowledge. This knowledge cannot be
fully described and communicated in words and pictures. On the contrary, this
knowledge is developed through the practical application of craft and can only
be transferred through a working situation where people are participating. The
conclusion must be that the main task is to develop methods for training
craftsmen in traditional wooden crafts and involve them in the interpretation
of how historical work was executed.
This knowledge
is relevant to every detail of the preservation of the European wooden building
heritage. The pre-modern wooden constructions differs in many details between
countries, but the conclusion must be that the pre-modern wooden buildings of
Europe shows striking similarities. In any significant dimension, this is a
common heritage. In this project craftsmen, architects and ethnologists are
working together at building restoration sites in all the seven participating
countries.
If we
improve our possibilities to read our built environment not only with
the help of the traditional academic knowledge - as unique or representative
parts of a chronology or category, or a well preserved building from a certain
style or important era, region or nation – we may be able to come closer
to the individuals in history and to the local environmental and social
conditions in which these persons were living.
In the
Romanian workshop we participated in the restoration of two churches (see
article by Ana Bârca). After the presentations by the restoration architect and
the different team’s own investigations we understood that there had been some
substantial changes of this very small church from the middle of the 17th century. Some not very sensitive reparation and reinforcement
measurements were carried out in the some three or four decades ago. There had
also been a rebuilding of the roof over the “altar” (sanctuary), probably
during the 19th century. A complete
investigation of all the phases in the history of the building was not carried
out during the workshop. But craftsmen and architects together became more and
more interested of the quality of both the original work and reparations.
During the workshop we had the opportunity to
see a lot of other churches in the region. Our first impression of the church
in Baica was strengthened after these visits. Many of the other churches was,
if not masterpieces all of them, of very high quality in terms of
craftsmanship. Even the church in the nearby village of Racâs, which was also
restored during the workshop, was originally of higher quality considering the
skills in the way the church was built. Close studies by the participating
craftsmen could show that the men that originally erected the church in Baica
had problems with almost elementary rules for log-house constructions. The
church has been moved down from the hill to its present placing and maybe at
this time one did some necessary repairs. In the partition wall between the “naos”
(nave) and the “altar” it was almost impossible to understand how one had
managed to make the walls fit together.
This question of comparatively “poor quality”
could of course be left behind. Poor quality is usually not very interesting in
the traditional academic disciplines or in preservation contexts. But what to
do about it when it is now identified by the craftsmen? A village church is the
result of the villager’s common possibilities and efforts. In the local and
regional context it must be interesting to ask: Why was this church, in this
village, of comparatively low quality? If it is a question of recourses, we can
ask what kind of resources: just the number of the inhabitants (a small
village?) or social, economic or knowledge resources?
As pointed
out before, in serious building conservation one always has to face the traces
and signs from the manufacturing and construction process. But at the same time
we can presume that we many times uncover values whose meanings we are unable
to evaluate. The shortcomings are of course bigger in the fields where the lack
of knowledge is big; i. e. that parts where the history disciplines has shown
little interest. Working processes belongs to them.
We can
appreciate the beauty in worn and used materials and the elaborated details of
old craftsmanship techniques but we do not understand, or at least to a less
extent, how cause and effect hang together. In Sweden there has been a clear
changing in the way that old techniques and old materials now are very much
appreciated. So-called traditional materials and methods seems more and more
form the standard for the meaning in the words quality and ecology.
But the
understanding of the cultural aspects of labour has however not reached the
corresponding level. That is for example how we understand the concepts of
theory and practice. Still the knowledge of crafts is looked upon as practical
and the academic knowledge as theoretical, when in fact it is a question about
different kinds of theory and practice. Yet there is an obvious difference:
knowledge of different kinds is developed and educated in different ways. In
crafts this is done in the practice. The theoretical dimension is a part of the
practice. We can say that the knowledge is both conceived and performed.
To fully
understand the historical buildings as the result of historical work, we must
be even clearer about theory and practice. There are ideas that advanced
knowledge is equivalent to theoretical knowledge and that practical craftsman
knowledge should be less advanced and of a simpler kind. In the industrial
production there has been a division between the conceived and the performed,
between the “thinkers” and the “doers”. But in historical work, when people took
part in much more of the process from the raw material to the completed
product, we many times face an advanced complex of knowledge. The knowledge
about the raw materials is one part of this, but we want to point out another
thing. With a slight simplification one can say that the more of the raw
materials natural forms that are kept when we start a construction, the more
“thinking” is needed. Pieces of exactly the same dimensions with straight and
square forms, for example processed by a sawmill, are comparatively easy to use
in a construction. But in constructions were almost every piece is of a unique
dimension and the dimensions of each piece differ from one end to the other,
for example in a log-house construction, and maybe upon that the round form of
the stems are kept, we are dealing with a somewhat advanced, applied geometry.
At the
workshop in Romania the Swedish team demonstrated how to make corner-joints in
round logs. There was a great interest among the craftsmen for this and the
understanding of the problems was almost immediate. The elder Polish craftsman,
Kazimierz Lacek, said that this was what he will remember at first, because he
had wondered for many years how this was done. And the Romanian craftsman and
entrepreneur, Vasile Pop, immediately commented: “There are not many craftsmen
in Romania that could do this. But on the other hand, this is so complicated
that we can do ten of our joints while you do one of these.” The very
experienced Romanian restoration architect, Niels Auner, that has done a lot of
models of joints in wooden constructions also realised the problems and used
the words “the beauty of this construction”.
At the
Lithuanian workshop we participated in the restoration of a dwelling house and a
granary (se article by Dale Puodziukiene). The dwelling house is a log-house
construction and was built about 1880 as many of the other buildings in the
village of Kleboniskis. At this time free farmers erected the buildings in the
village. Before 1861 the village belonged to the church. This building was
dismantled and moved from a place nearby to the wonderful, little valley of
Daugyvene´s River, were the Daugyvene´s cultural historical museum-reservation
was placed. It is a building like the other dwelling houses in the village; a
big living room with the stove and a big guestroom in the other end. In the
middle there is a big hallway and in the corner of this pace there is a cooking
and storage room.
When the teams of craftsmen and architects
together examined the traces of the historical work in the logs and the other
construction materials there were some interesting notifications. Some of them
were maybe more ordinary but one thing was completely new for everybody. At
first we can state that the logs in the wall constructions was spruce of poor
quality. Poor quality is always a difficult judgement, one have to consider
local conditions, judgements and conceptions. But together with the Lithuanian
craftsmen there was an agreement that this wood did not represent a good
quality by any means.
The second thing was the very thin “lines”
across many of the logs. It was weak but fully readable traces of a knife, or
perhaps an axe, which went all around the log at distances of 50-70
centimetres. Nothing of these two first notifications is sensational. It is
known that bark was used for different purposes. And if you want it for a
special use you can chose the size of the bark-sheets by cutting around the
stem at suitable distances. Dale Puodziukiene, the workshop manager and
architect from Lithuania, remembered that she had read about the use of bark
for fire-protection in some case. If one does not need the bark for anything
special, or at least any bark-sheets, one can take away the bark the usual way
and there will be no traces of this kind. Poor quality of wood we could meet
anywhere, but there use to be a reason.
The most interesting thing we noticed was about
the logs in the wall construction. All the logs were hewn, both on the inside
and the outside. But they were not hewn so the logs had the same width all the
way. One end was thicker than the other, a difference of about ˝ - 1 inch.
This is not very much over a length of about six meters, but fully possible to
observe in the walls. After this discovery we could see that many of the other
houses were constructed in the same way. There is no explanation for this due
to the construction method; it is as hard or as easy to make a wall of these
logs as it is with logs of the same width. But there is a difference in the
esthetical effect of the wall. With the same width in both ends of the logs it
is easy to achieve a plane wall, in the other case it is impossible. When the
widths differs in this way there will be a pretty big difference in each corner
of the wall in the thickness between each “layer” of logs. If we compare to a
“normal” hewn and plane log-wall the difference is substantial, but on the
other hand, if we compare with a not hewn wall of round logs there is no
difference.
Even more strange is that the bottom logs, the
sills, were not hewn but instead manufactured by saw. It was not possible to
judge that if it was done by a sawmill or with a crane saw. It is not
remarkable with sawn logs among hewn logs in a construction. Usually they
belong to different periods and are the result of reparations. But the
Lithuanian participants did not find it very strange that the sill was sawn.
They argued that these logs were not from reparation; it belonged to the
original construction. Sawn logs were expensive and maybe could the owner not
afford any more sawn logs and instead he had to use hewn logs for the rest of
the walls. And that is very plausible. The sawn logs were prepared in the same
way as the other logs, in terms of the difference in width between the both
ends of the logs. No one of the participants had ever seen this before.
One can think about the reasons for this
difference. This was nothing that occurred by chance; it was done by purpose
and must belong to some sort of system. We have already been into technical,
constructional or esthetical arguments. If we instead look at the preparation
of the raw material, the trunks, to the hewn logs ready to fit in the wall
construction, there may be an answer. At least if we look at the sawn logs. All
trees are broader at the root than at the top. Conifer trees are very straight
and the stems are evenly getting more and more narrow at the top. Therefore
they are more suitable to process to construction material, especially when
long parts are needed, than for example the oak tree.
If one use this very odd method to saw the
trunks that was used in the houses in Kleboniskis village, the natural form of
the tree with a broad and a narrow end is kept. The boards one get from the
sides of the trunk after sawing in this way has almost the same width. If it is
sawn the other, more “normal” way, we get the opposite result. The logs will
have the same width, but the boards will differ a lot in width in both ends.
Many times the difference is so big, with one very broad end and almost nothing
in the other, so it is not even a useful board. It is possible that this is
what was wanted; the sides of the trunks that were taken off by saw, should be
easy to use as boards in a roof construction for example.
But what about the hewn logs? If one had tried
to get boards from the sides of the trunks by cracking with wedge and axe the
result would have been the same. By cracking the crack will follow the fibre of
the wood that follows the shape of the stem and the result would be a log with
difference in width, but boards of almost the same width. We could not state
that one had taken boards of the hewn logs. There were not enough evident
traces of the cracking method. Then there is maybe only one alternative left:
laziness – or effectiveness? To hew a trunk to a log with the same width is a
little bit harder than if one just follow the form of the stem all the way.
Legitimacy
What kind
of knowledge, understandings and possibilities could the combination of new sources
and a new perspective (the practical historic work) give? One result is already
implied: studies of materials, techniques and working processes are
investigations of the direct historical materials as “carriers of meanings”. No
matter if the purpose is building conservation or to clarify a historical
condition or a historic event the sources of information must be analysed for
what they are. Not giving interest to the aspects that belongs to the origin
and the use of the historical materials is obviously a limitation of the
investigation. One result could therefore be more ensure historical conclusions
and maybe also other conclusions of historical conditions and transformation
processes. In this way building conservation would not only be an objective in
itself, but means that can contribute to the interpretation of history. We may
also expect historical disciplines and the cultural heritage sector to reach
out and engage more people. How things are made and the use of them is a direct
road into the questions of the cultural heritage for many people that do not
have scientific knowledge as an accessible entrance.
To a large
extent this is about the legitimacy of the cultural heritage sector. The values
of the cultural heritage must be related to the historical materials, the
objects and the buildings, that should be preserved and restored, and not only
to the category in general, the “evolution” of a style or just the idea about a
type of building. But also because the objects and the buildings can tell us
about everyday life, local conditions and social categories where other
historical sources are not very rich. We must of course bear in mind the
difference between social categories and institutions that use the written
language as memory and those whose memories are almost only manifested by
artefacts and oral and manual traditions.
Previously
we touched the question about the legitimacy of the cultural heritage sector.
In our opinion this is basically about democracy. If we want the cultural
heritage to be a living and essential force in society, if the cultural
heritage shall be able to be a resource for the many people, the citizens must
be invited to influence and interpret the cultural heritage. This is a big
challenge. If the cultural heritage should play an important role in society we
think that we can not delegate to one profession – the officers of cultural
heritage departments – to judge about this by their own. There are many
questions connected to this. What kind
of phenomenon should be a part of the cultural heritage? And, last but not
least, who is going to make the choice and who will be given the mandate to add
meanings to the cultural heritage, to tell the stories?
In times
like these one can argue that nations have not the same valid as before. There
is competition from both the big European region, but also the regional and
local. New entities are valid beside the nation and they are not necessary
bound to the borders of a nation or even a territory. As an alternative to
national and territory identities there are good reasons for using other
categories, such as social, gender or professional.
The village Gallejaur was established as a new
settlement during the first years of the 19th century in the wide forestlands in the very north of
Sweden. In one of the farmsteads an octagonal threshing barn was built in 1892.
Those octagonal threshing barns are very characteristic for this area during
the 19th century. A specialist that was not from the village
constructed the building and it was a masterpiece in terms of craftsmanship.
The roof was covered with wooden shingles. Under the shingles there are boards
that are cracked – divided only by the use of an axe and wedges – and then just
slightly worked up afterwards with an axe to boards of the same thickness. The
area of the roof is about 150 m2.
Most people today associate construction wood as wood
prepared by a sawmill. The imagination of construction wood assumes that the
tree trunks are divided into useful pieces by a sawmill. This is so evident
that very few are reflecting over the alternative, but how was the construction
wood produced before we had the sawmills?
The sawmills close the watercourses are very rare in
the north of Sweden before the 17th
century. During the 19th
century they became frequent and many new wood processing machines were
introduced. In the medieval churches in Sweden with original roof constructions
there are boards produced in the same way as in the threshing barn in
Gallejaur. We sometimes also find it in the elder log-houses. We don’t know
when this manufacturing method ended, but in the first decades of the 19th century this method must have been limited to a few
places where a sawmill or a crane-saw was not accessible. During the second
half of the 19th century this
“cracking method” should only have been used at few occasions when the building
site was very isolated. Most likely we can presume that this roof from 1892 is
one of the last ones in Sweden that is constructed of boards not manufactured
by saw. The roof of the threshing barn should accordingly give us the end of one
of the ways that was used to benefit and work up the resource that the
trunks of the forests provided.
In any case we can state the fact that when the people in the farmstead
needed a new threshing barn 1892 one could have chosen to produce the boards
with a crane saw (that was available in the village) or to transport the trunks
to the sawmill in the “neighbour”-village some 10 km away. But they choose to
use the method they had used many times before. What seems remarkable for us
was maybe hard work for them, probably rational and fairly ordinary. If the
octagonal treshing barn in Gallejaur possibly represents the end of a
manufacturing and constructing method we can put the question: where do we find
the beginning?
In Zwenkau outside Leipzig in Germany the remains of a well is found.
The wooden walls in the well are of oak and are dated to 5084 BC. In other
words the construction is more than 7 000 years old. All the wood from the
remaining parts is from the same tree – an oak tree that has been cut into the
lengths of 1,5 to 2 meters and then cracked into planks. The planks are jointed
together in a familiar log-house technique. Many of the planks in the well are
so well preserved that it is possible to see the traces of the tools. The
traces show that these farmers with stone-axes could cut down and then crosscut
oak wood of big dimensions. They could crack the wood to planks to fit in a construction.
The rough surface of the planks they could make even by using the stone-axe.
The ends they could cut off straight and they were able to make holes, wooden
nails and notches; that is all the moments that belongs to the craft of a
log-house constructor from the trunk to the manufactured wood put together in a
construction.
At this well we can get a hunch of the beginning of something were the
boards in the roof of the threshing barn are in the ending. 7 000 years divide
these farmers, but as far as to craftsman technique the main difference is that
axes of stone has been changed to axes of iron. Almost as long as we possible
can imagine people obviously have had both knowledge and means to process the
recourses that the forests provide.
The traditional
knowledge about style or different categories and types of farmhouses does not
help us to identify the small traces of the manufacturing process of the boards
in the threshing barn in Gallejaur. The very well constructed, octagonal
building maybe becomes a little more remarkable by these traces of this ancient
manufacturing process. But, the category Threshing barns, the special Type or
this characteristic building, this “label”, of this region is by no means
influenced by this little observation. About the Gallejaur village though, and
about the inhabitants that lived their lives there, it must be possible to tell
an interesting history. One identified detail, described and explained, can
give a broader context. The end of the development of making settlements out of
forests, without any other means than the knowledge and the tools one could
self produce and carry about, is as interesting as the beginning.
From the examples
of interpretation of historical work mentioned in this article we can see that
this perspective, many times focused on very small details, can lead in
different directions. There are several questions and in the examples not many
answers are given, but put together with and compared to other historical
sources we may have some answers in the indicated directions. In the examples
given we have discussed local resources mostly in terms of knowledge and the
asset to natural resources – here of course particularly wood and forests. The
labour, the historical work in our case, is a necessity between those natural
and human resources.
In
Lithuania we saw the traces on the logs that showed that one had used the bark
of the tree for something. We don’t know exactly for what, but some questions
to elder people in the region will give the answer for certain. We have also a
question about the manufacturing process. Did one use the material from the
sides of the trunks for anything? At the workshop in Lithuania we looked at
pictures taken in the village around 1930. At this time there were no forests
in the area, almost not a tree. The buildings were made of spruce of poor
quality and we can always put the question about where did one get the
materials for building houses. For the dwelling houses in the village there is
at least 100 trees needed. Why the poor quality? Were they from the small
forests that belonged to the village, was there enough for every villager after
1861 or did they have to organise this in a special way? Or did the villagers
have to by the trees, or trade (with what?), to get it, and one could not
afford a better quality? Or was this the only available quality in the region –
why?
In Rumania we worked together at a beautiful
little church with paintings inside. But after examining the craftsmen work in
the construction, we could state that this was not, compared to the many other
churches we saw, very well executed. Actually it was pretty bad in some parts.
Why? Why here in Baica, in this village? Is it chance or is there any
explanation connected to the history of this village, the neighbour villages or
the region? If we will have some answers we may have a monument over a
significant local context and history. Anyhow it is a very good decision by the
authorities to spend money on restoration of this very small and humble church
in Transylvania.
In the
village of the very north of Sweden there also were some interesting questions
about local conditions and choices made according to abilities and factual
possibilities. And here we could also at least imply, that if we choose the
historical work in wooden constructions as a perspective, we could “cross
borders” and find interesting connections that goes way back in time.
The
knowledge about historical work may have other borders than regions and
nations. For example during these first two workshops we have observed that
there is knowledge associated with the different varieties of trees.
Discussions about the pine tree or the characteristics of the spruce among
craftsmen ended up in an exchange of experiences that were very much of the
same kind.
The
perspectives we have tried to argue for in this article are not very peculiar
ideas. One can think in this way about most objects or buildings. There will be
a direct connection to the physical materials, to small traces, details or
strange measurements. We have had questions directly from the buildings and
they could be put into a larger context. If we get answers we can bring them
back to the building and find a history that will be concrete and tangible in
our cultural heritage. And the meaning of those traces we can all experience
and question with all our senses since they are a physical reality.
The
past is the professional field of the cultural heritage sector and present time
is the perspective. An essential task is to interpret the past, to contribute
to people’s own interpretation and supply a matter for many kinds of history to
be told. This involves a lot of undertakings. Everything from the technical
preservation of the materials, to the aspects of criticism about how the
history will be told and further the social issues about whose history is going
to be presented and what is possible to be told. Taken together this task is
unique for the cultural heritage sector.
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* Göran Andersson este
conservator şi coordonator de proiecte la Timmerdraget –
centrul pentru construcţii tradiţionale al
Muzeului Regional Jämtland dinSuedia.
** Peter
Sjömar este director al departamentului de cercetare al Universităţii de meserii tradiţionale
Dacapo din Mariestad, Suedia.
*
Göran Andersson, conservation officer and project manager for Timmerdraget –
centre for traditional log-house constructions at the County museum of
Jämtland, Sweden. E-mail: goran.andersson@jll.se.
** Peter Sjömar, techn, dr. and research director at the Dacapo Vocational School of Crafts in Mariestad, Sweden. E-mail: peter@dacapo.mariestad.se