The object of conservation is the result of a collaboration between heritage expert Siân Jones and social anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, who focus on heritage management organisations, the individuals who work for them, and sites and objects they are tasked with conserving. Their fieldwork draws on several projects in Scotland, where the authors—usually together but occasionally individually—have followed, observed and interviewed individuals associated with Historic Scotland (HS). These include professionals with backgrounds in conservation and related fields, such as architecture, archaeology, masonry and art history, all of whom become known to us—under pseudonyms to protect their identities—through the authors’ observations of them and their work. Typical of many national heritage agencies that often seem to be in a constant state of flux and regeneration, HS and its operational parameters have already changed since the time of data collection, being superseded by Historic Environment Scotland (HES).
The book is concerned with how people work in heritage management organisations such as HS, but also with the objects of conservation—in this case, the historic properties and archaeological sites and monuments under the stewardship of HS/HES. Drawing on post-humanist approaches, such as Actor-Network Theory, and assemblage theories, the authors show how ethnographies of working life emerge, shedding light on the practice of conservation and heritage management. This reveals a dynamic and open-ended dialogue between the objects of conservation and the humans that care for, manage and make decisions about them. The authors share close analysis of processes taking place in different situations, from office meetings—often in nondescript locations that contrast greatly the historic properties being discussed—through to site visits and long-term projects. What comes to light is a recognisable picture of competing priorities and expectations, but also of how compromise, and eventually consensus, are achieved. The perception of temporality is also striking—the future as well as the past—especially as described by the highly skilled stonemasons.
The book provides a fascinating insight for heritage professionals, who will likely nod knowingly as they read many of its sections. The tensions between conservation practices and policy developments are particularly well documented, as are the frustrations, doubts and moments of optimism among those observed and interviewed. Humour is also apparent: “Asked by one of us if she thinks these medical metaphors and parallels [concerning conservation work] are used a lot, Erika replies ‘oh not really’, just as Jim approaches and exclaims, ‘What's the verdict doctor?’” (p. 171).
The volume stands also as a fine exemplar for humanities and social science researchers seeking to employ ethnographic approaches. It delivers a superb illustration of ethnographic analysis, drawing upon anecdotes, observations, quotations and ultimately making sense of this often fuzzy material in ways that are accessible, relatable and theoretically informed. It deftly incorporates a historical perspective of the development of conservation studies, from Ruskin and the foundation of the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings in 1877, through to the establishment of key international agreements, such as the Athens, Venice and Burra Charters and, more recently, the Faro Convention.
A particularly welcome element of The object of conservation is its subtle but clear critique of some of the more abstract areas of critical heritage studies. Jones and Yarrow follow other researchers of the heritage profession in pointing out that the communities and individuals involved within professional heritage organisations are not devoid of agency. They note that critical heritage, and especially descriptions of the so-called ‘authorised heritage discourse’ can “tend to render heritage expertise as a relatively undifferentiated discursive nexus, flattening the diverse forms of expertise involved in constituting conservation objects” (p. 9). On the contrary, this can be messy work—both figuratively and literally—and while official policy plays a role, the professionals involved must constantly make judgement calls. Decisions that can have a long-term effect can be reached with confidence, but also at times with elements of doubt. The examples presented by the authors illustrate how individuals working within official heritage agencies have their own perspectives on their work and its possible consequences and legacies.
A minor criticism of the book concerns the concluding sections of each individual chapter. While it is obviously useful to revisit discussions, the tone sometimes feels like reading a summary page of a grant funding report in which the work is justified and is perhaps unnecessary in the context of the book. These sections are sometimes starkly impersonal to read compared with the richer descriptive sections in the main bodies of the chapters.
I particularly enjoyed the later chapters, and especially Chapter 9, with its case study of Glasgow Cathedral as an object of conservation, not least because of the diversity of stakeholders involved in Jones and Yarrow's study. In this chapter, we hear not only the perspectives of HS professionals, including the conservators and stonemasons, but also of individuals from the ‘Friends of Glasgow Cathedral’, including worshippers at the Cathedral. Interviewees comment on the influence, perhaps even the understood presence, of God as an important facet of what makes Glasgow Cathedral such an interesting case study. On top of the general management planning, conservation and preservation is an awareness of the ‘numinous’, as Jones and Yarrow put it, and the implications this has for how to care for this place and how to allow for continued additions and interventions. Like many historic sites and properties, the Cathedral is not a static structure, but a living place.
