Architectural Stories

Over the last month, I have been busy exploring events across Norfolk and into Suffolk including Heritage Open Days and Local Archive talks. I have visited a range of fascinating buildings that I was unaware of, and aren’t normally open to the public. I have furthered my knowledge of Norwich and Great Yarmouth by walking though the cities and discovering new routes and exploring exhibitions of local maps. And I have re-visited buildings with new and different insights. 

This is expanding on my long term interest in heritage buildings. Partly from having grown up in a Grade 2 listed cottage, and from my 7 years working at LBR Architecture to extend, refurbish and rejuvenate heritage properties (un-listed heritage assets as well as those listed at Grade 2, 2* and 1).  

Heritage building Conwy, Wales

And in the last month, as I look to explore the possibility of making a career out of both writing and architecture, I have had a dawning realisation. My interest in architectural heritage is the same as my urge to write. It is all story telling. 

Reading the architecture, some of which can be seen immediately, some of which is hidden and only revealed once work starts on site can allow us to trace changes through time. These changes may be obvious – such as the lines of a former roofline in an external wall – and some may be less so – such as a change in the brickwork, or floor levels. Sometimes the reasons and the timings for these changes are equally clear, sometimes they require research and sometimes they will forever remain a mystery. 

Architectural story telling

This is what excites me, both as a writer and as an architect (pending final qualification results). The building fabric can lead me to speculate over the choices made by the occupants, and who those occupants may have been. A building cannot change on it’s own after all, it is a record of human choices. Its story is created by it’s occupants. 

But as an architect I am also excited by possibility of participating in the development of that story. Editing aspects that no longer work (whist recording the former shape of the building in drawings to remember the buildings’ last incarnation), adding chapters in the form of extensions, and enhancing key features and highlights. 

Researching a building’s history is essential to understand the context of your work. Whilst most detailed research is focused on listed buildings or those in conservation areas – not just to influence your design, but as a Ppanning requirements – this should never be completely overlooked for the less historically ‘exciting’ buildings. 

The research feeds into the story, into the design, potentially identifying key characters, and explaining or dating the changes. The significance of this information then informs the impact of any new proposals, if they need to be adjusted to be more sensitive or if there is a justification to adapting the story for the requirements of new occupants. 

This research fascinates me. I enjoy looking through the historic maps, investigating old documents – including paintings, photographs and written records – as well as making the most of research already completed and available online in order to create Heritage Impact Assessments on the buildings. Where possible, working with the current owners to expand on their existing knowledge. My confidence in dating heritage fabric is less strong, although I can often identify where the change is I can’t easily date it, and this is on my radar for future studies. 

Map of Paris

But the research has other exciting possibilities. It can also feed into the work of fictional works, and I am excited to have several ideas I’m taking forward in this vein. In some instances the information will be entirely fictionalised, but for others, I will need to tread carefully and consider how to approach telling the story of a real building and it’s real occupants.