Thirty years of design control
David Stenning looks back to see what progress has been made.
I joined the Essex County Council Planning Department in 1968 as one of the new, five person, conservation team. The Civic Amenities Act was a recent event and conservation was a topical idea with a remarkably illdefined agenda. A few months previously, an article in the Architects' Journal provided photographs of supposedly appropriate new buildings, with a view to stimulating debate. Housing in the Barbican at Plymouth received a particular paean of praise, responding to a narrow street, with an assertive saw-toothed facade. I recently re-visited that structure and discovered that it now has a twin further down the street. It is now difficult to understand the particular state of mind that prevailed in that remarkably distant time.

Those of us, in the new team, with architectural qualifications were, inevitably, products of the 'modernist' mainstream with particular ideas to exploit. We felt duty-bound to pursue our flat-roofed utilitarianism, with a fine sense of moral purpose. Very soon, we felt obliged to adjust to our new scenario in the face of unexpected demands. Whilst we, in timehonoured fashion, felt the need continuously to 'reinvent the wheel', other pressures made themselves felt A move towards vertically proportioned windows was soon apparent, as were pitched roof variants, with originality of shape a prime consideration. This particular 'cultural pressure' was to lead others, in other local authorities, to follow a similar path.

Being the 'office junior', I had more opportunity for theoretical speculation, which led me increasingly towards more 'historicist' thoughts. This heresy remained bottom-drawer material, awaiting more propitious circumstances.

It was a new, enthusiastic staff member, Michael Shepherd, who should be credited with the real breakthrough. Housing developments were always the testbed and a series of vigorously negotiated, small infills provided the usefully appropriate means. By marrying simple, geometrical block forms, with symmetrical windows and appropriate materials, their qualities were selfevident. Looking back now, this pioneering approach produced a certain hard-edged austerity that was seen to be desirable in reflecting the climate of the times. 'Joining everything together' became our obsessive motto, as we purposefully sought enclosure and traditional English townscape.

It was out of this ferment that the first Essex Design Guide was conceived and produced. As chief illustrator (for better or worse), I tentatively pressed towards more evident historicism, much to the consternation of some colleagues! It was this docu- ment, with all of the ensuing controversy, that established Essex as a socalled 'reactionary force'. We obviously felt otherwise and, on the contrary, felt more like a potential 'avantgarde' moving in new directions.

In the following years, this Essex approach gained the benefit of accumulated experience. The extremely selective use of 'traditional' elements, chosen for their practical virtue rather than their nostalgic values, formed the backbone of the efforts. Such use, providing as it does 'unifying' qualities, led to the achievement of the necessary and cohesion and integration with the existing, historic environments.

Many colleagues have contributed to this work and Peter Richards, Roy Chandler, Michael Munt, Alan Stones and Hillary Brightman are just some of the creative individuals (too numerous to list) who have assisted this progress. However, despite the superficialities, the modernist agenda has always been apparent. Individuals can never escape the spirit of the times - which is all-pervading and always informs all of our endeavours.

My pet label of 'vernacular-purism' was adopted to reflect that abstracted us of traditional language, seen in the light of our late 20th century sensibilities.

There was a brief period in the 1970s when the architectural profession seemed prepared to move in a similar direction. The reaction against bleaker aspects of modernism seemed to promise a welcome new beginning. Sadly this petered out in the apparent culde-sac of post-modernism and in narrow revivalist tendencies. We were soon to return to that striving for stylistic novelty that is so unhelpful to our cause and which often leads to selfindulgent chaos.

Over recent years, other conservation officers, in other areas of Britain, seem to have echoed our experiences. The so-called 'Leeds style' has attracted attention, not always favourable, for its use of urban, Edwardian vocabulary. The emergence of a similar language in the Essex towns of Colchester and Chelmsford is clearly due to similar pressures. In a somewhat different vein, strong-minded development-control in Wiltshire and North Norfolk has achieved exceptionally appropriate results.

An unfortunate by-product of the process has been the abuse and missapplication of 'historical' detail by various commercial interests. Concerned primarily for the symbolic and sentimental qualities of 'olde England', our ideas have been systematically hijacked. Unfortunately and inevitably, the two strands are confused and we become the undeserving scapegoats.

There should never be any intention to impose bureaucratic restraints on those who have good ideas of their own. Frequently, we find ourselves working in situations where the building team lacks any positive thinking. In such a vacuum of ideas, we are obliged to offer possibilities, and positiveness, on our part, is actively encouraged. Clearly, such situations have their limitations and basically good concepts, spoilt by poor detailing and a lack of conviction, are the usual, unwelcome outcome.

Fortunately, there are some architects who do share, at least, some of our interests and who are prepared to ,preserve and enhance the existing character'. it is with working with them that real progress is made and we remain entirely reliant on their good intentions. However, there is much we can do to influence the climate of opinion, by means of theoretical debate and by our own efforts at negotiation.

How many satisfactory in-fill schemes do you know that have enhanced the character of a Conservation Area? Clearly, there are many gallant attempts, but the overall standard remains disappointing. Little wonder that Conservation Officers turn increasingly to repair of old buildings as an apparently more manageable task. Nevertheless, new works, whether as extensions or complete structures, remain part of our task. This should not be nervously side-stepped.

Over the years, I have attended numerous conferences and listened to many papers on the thorny subject of historic infill. The same arguments and the same colour slides inevitably appear, to little, apparent effect. Rarely do the examples seem relevant or the arguments particularly pertinent, but the roundabout continues to turn. Often I gain the impression of a deliberate effort to obscure, with the 'architect knows best' as the all-pervading message. As an architect myself, I find this deeply unhelpful and a mystifying process, designed to prevent rational thought.

It seems to me that there is a general failure to address the basic issues or of any attempt to find common ground. Perhaps unsurprisingly, our agenda and that of the architectural profession fail to coincide, despite all these years of seemingly rational discourse. Unfortunately, it would appear that the task itself is not viewed with sufficient seriousness. There appears too much more credit, and thus peer approval, for the individual, personal statement. Conversely, there is little incentive to work within an established context, despite the obvious intellectual challenge. There was a time when the Civic Trust awards seemed to offer the opportunity of establishing an appropriate critical platform. Unsurprisingly, awards can only reflect the nature of the entries and a lack of suitable candidates can reduce the beneficial effects.

In fundamental terms, I see our task as one of achieving continuity and that this historic, cultural and social continuity as being central to a 'conservationist' stance. Preservation tends to stress separateness and the isolation of objects in metaphorical, or literal, glass cases.

I can obviously enjoy a useful discourse with those who share a conservationist point of view, as defined in this manner. Preserving 'character' seems to require such a need for continuity, whereas the preservation of individual artefacts inevitably leads to disjunctures. Are we sure that we have arrived at an appropriate philosophy, by which to guide our responses? In my mode of thought, A (the old) + B (the new) ought to lead to C (the new conservationist outcome). When A and B remain separated, disunity is stressed and harmony
remains unachievable.

In conclusion, it is my view that the professional Conservation Officer is uniquely placed to play a vital part in the building design debate when it involves dealing with the historic context. Our special experience, gained in our daily tasks, provides us with a markedly relevant point of view. I believe we should be proud of our knowledge and sure in our purpose and that we should actively pursue our aims.

With this in view, I believe that our new Institute could take up the challenge and establish a usefully proactive role. I have in mind making use of a suitable forum for debate and in achieving a general initiative-seeking profile. What do you think?

D F Stenning, Historic Buildings and Design Section of Essex County Council Planning Department.

Context 60 December 1998