The Northland Pattern Wall: City of Past and Future Craft is an assemblage artwork created by artist and architecture professor Dennis Maher with coinstructors and students of the Society for the Advancement of Construction-Related Arts (SACRA) program. SACRA is an arts-based vocational training program providing construction skills training to individuals in need. It is based at Assembly House 150, an artist-led experiential learning center in Buffalo, New York. This article employs qualitative methods inspired by the hermeneutic spiral to examine the Northland Pattern Wall, SACRA, and Assembly House 150. This article highlights takeaways for heritage conservation, as well as allied professions, about the relevance of building trades and creative practices that help to shape and conserve the built environment. The story behind the Northland Pattern Wall is used as an opportunity to reflect on the potential to build stronger alliances between professionals, tradespersons, and artists in designing creatively out of the patterns of the past to build a more sustainable and equitable future city.

Starting in 1895 with the work of Wallace Clement Sabine (1868–1919), the science of architectural acoustics was born. Sabine's work on the materialization of sound influenced countless architects and physicists alike, including the famous New York City–based architect Charles A. Platt (1861–1933) and MIT physics instructor Clifford Melville Swan (1877–1951), a former student of Sabine. Both Platt and Swan collaborated on the design of the Coolidge Auditorium, housed in the Thomas Jefferson Building of the Library of Congress in Washington, DC. Built in 1925, the five-hundred-plus seat chamber hall highlights the idealized listening environment of the interwar period in America, which was still reeling from the noise-filled horrors of World War I as it embarked on a progressive agenda to build the modern urban metropolis. In spite of the increased popularity at the time for large purpose-built halls to house films, big band jazz performances, and grand spectacle entertainment, the Coolidge Auditorium presented a small, intimate space with an explicit desire to reform music in America. In this article I explore this early twentieth-century listening environment and conclude by comparing the Coolidge Auditorium to the concert hall of today, which I argue is directly connected to the built environment of the early twentieth century, with its growing fascination with radio transmission and electronically reproduced music.

This manuscript, "Oradour sur Glane: French Identity Memorialized," is a study of the commemoration of the village Oradour sur Glane that was destroyed by German forces in World War II. To this day, the ruins themselves remain evidence of the vicious attack that took place on October 8, 1944. Part of the story of the ruins includes the decision to use them for remembrance. The other part includes the considerations as to how to maintain them enough to stop them from completely disappearing over time. The preservation decisions involved both the co-operation and assistance of local, regional and state authorities. At the same time, the symbolic significance of these ruins, independent of their material condition, remains a continuing issue. From the very beginning, what the ruins meant to those who survived--and those who emphasized more national and even universal concerns--has been a source of political and now historical dispute.

Sound Archives and Online Repositories Pamela Jordan (bio) Few institutions prominently feature sound recordings of architectural spaces directly. Archives may include audio/visual materials that offer sources of study, such as descriptions of built environments by witnesses, performances conducted in certain built environments, or unintended "background" recordings, that can be rich in contextual information. Many national archives hold collections that are a helpful starting point for researchers (for one example, the National Sound Library of Mexico also includes an interactive map with hundreds of field recordings: https://mapasonoro.cultura.gob.mx/). Focused or private collections oriented around specific regions, stakeholders, or themes are also available; the International Association of Sound and Audiovisual Archives (IASA) provides a helpful listing of diverse archival collections (https://www.iasa-web.org/links?tid=All&combine=&field_country_value=All), as does the Observatorio de Archivos Sonoros y Audiovisuales de Iberoamérica (Observatory of Sound and Audiovisual Archives of Iberoamerica, https://www.ripdasa.iibi.unam.mx/geoportal/home). The recordings and outputs of smaller research projects are often located online as well, such as the Social Housing Sound Archive (https://www.socialhousingsoundarchive.com/), The Roaring Twenties, a companion interactive website to Emily Thompson's book The Soundscape of Modernity (http://vectorsdev.usc.edu/NYCsound/777b.html), or the "One Square Inch Project" (https://onesquareinch.org/). The following institutions contain holdings relevant to acoustics in the context of built heritage: British Library Sound Archive, https://sounds.bl.uk/** As one of the foremost sound archives worldwide, the British Library's Sound Archive soundscapes collection is among the largest sources of acoustic ecology, urban environments, and preserved locations in the United Kingdom and the British Commonwealth. Lighthouses, churches, and industrial sites feature prominently in their "Sounds and Society" section. Max Planck Institute for the History of Science, Sound and Science: Digital Histories, https://acoustics.mpiwg-berlin.mpg.de/** This digitization project by the Epistemes for Modern Acoustics research group at the Max Planck Institute for the History of Science allows users to examine hundreds of items in the database. This is a newer site with excellent resources and essays from a wide range of scholars that contextualize the recordings. Search categories include performance spaces (such as theaters, concert halls, lecture halls), industrial laboratories, hospitals, and laboratories. [End Page 257] Library of Congress, Recorded Sound Research Center, https://loc.gov/rr/record/ In addition to preserving most of the audio-visual, musical, and broadcast material produced in the United States, the Motion Picture, Broadcasting, and Recorded Sound Division of the Library of Congress has oral histories, live music, and audio field recordings specific to stated built environments. World Soundscape Project Database, https://www.sfu.ca/~truax/wsp.html A comprehensive collection of recordings, interviews, and other materials related to the "World Soundscape Project," the education and research group at Simon Fraser University that established much of the terminology and approaches to soundscape and humansonic relationships since forming in the 1960s. The database includes seminal projects in North America and Europe. EMI Archive Trust, https://www.emiarchivetrust.org/collection/ Including most of the recordings produced by EMI Records, the EMI Archive Trust holds a comprehensive collection related to the historic development of sound recording in general. This includes, for example, robust holdings on acoustic horns, lathes, and playback devices—media technologies that, when traced, afford the development of approaches to recording an event in space. Indiana University, Archives of Traditional Music, https://libraries.indiana.edu/archives-traditional-music The Archives of Traditional Music is among the largest university collections of ethnographic sound, including one of the most extensive wax cylinder archives in the world. Its collection includes the oldest known "stereo" recording of a live musical performance in China (ca. 1901), and by default one of the first indoor recordings ever produced, restored in the summer 2020. Phonogrammerarchiv, https://oeaw.ac.at/phonogrammarchiv/ Founded in 1899, the Phonogrammerarchiv in Vienna is the oldest sound archive in the world. Among its mission activities is to collect scientific sound and video recordings from a variety of disciplines and geographic locations. Although primarily ethnolinguistic and ethnomusicological, the Phonogrammer Archiv has a large number of musical recordings in a broad range of contexts, institutions, and...

San Francisco's continued economic boom threatens to displace much of its culturally diverse population, including LGBTQ residents who have made the city a center of the national and international struggle for civil rights and equitable treatment. Queer activists and their preservation allies have worked together to apply several new cultural preservation strategies to help LGBTQ people maintain their place in the city and preserve their significant local cultural heritage. This article examines three particular strategies – the Legacy Business Program, a Citywide LGBTQ Cultural Heritage Strategy, and a series of Cultural Districts – to consider their effectiveness in preserving the tangible remains of LGBTQ heritage and sustaining contemporary queer culture in an increasingly unaffordable city. The analysis yields several recommendations for advocates of preserving LGBTQ culture in rapidly-changing, high cost communities: develop tools that move beyond traditional preservation methods to capture the intangible aspects of culture; act at a citywide scale and in a manner that includes the broad range of LGBTQ practices and perspectives; integrate economic and community development strategies into standard preservation methods; and recognize the salience of identities other than and in addition to queer as part of an intersectional approach to sustaining the city's diverse cultural heritage.

LGBTQ Heritage Ken Lustbader (bio) KEY WORDS Stonewall, LGBTQ place-based heritage, LGBTQ historic properties, LGBTQ heritage, LGBTQ history Click for larger view View full resolution Figure 1. Participants of the Stonewall uprising in front of the bar, June 29, 1969. (Photo Estate of Fred W. McDarrah. Used with permission) [End Page 136] This issue of Change Over Time, focused on LGBTQ heritage, is published to coincide with the fiftieth anniversary of the Stonewall uprising, a key turning point in the LGBTQ rights movement.1 It is ironic that Stonewall, a seedy, Mafia-run bar in New York City that had a brief run from 1967 to 1969, is now the most officially recognized LGBTQ historic site in the country, if not the world, given that twenty-five years ago the first attempt to secure federal recognition was rebuffed due to "lack of context."2 Today, its significance, stemming from a police raid and its aftermath, is not in question, nor is the fact that it was popular with a diverse cross-section of the LGBTQ community in spite of the general oppressive climate of the era. What is not widely known is that the site's significance is derived from events that occurred outside the bar on the un-gridded streets of Greenwich Village and not inside the space itself (Figure 1). Another aspect of importance, and of some confusion, is that the Stonewall Inn, which closed soon after the uprising, had occupied two architecturally undistinguished buildings at Fifty-One and Fifty-Three Christopher Street. In 1930 these two buildings were combined at the ground floor into one commercial space and were unified with a single façade. Soon after the Stonewall uprising, the buildings were divided into two distinct spaces, and since then have been leased to various commercial businesses. Today, apart from the removal of the iconic "Stonewall Inn" sign, the two façades remain intact.3 Fifty-One Christopher Street, the site of the main historic bar, is now vacant and for lease and Fifty-Three Christopher Street houses the current Stonewall bar. The Stonewall bar of today has no association with the historic bar and was opened in the early 1990s. Its current owners have become important stewards of the Stonewall legacy. While the above facts provide context, they also lay bare the complexities associated with the identification, documentation, evaluation, and interpretation of LGBTQ place-based sites. The official recognition and interpretation of Stonewall exemplifies myriad conservation challenges: the recognition and regulation of a historically and culturally important site without architectural significance as the primary determination; the exploration of changing values from a place of oppression to a place of celebration; the need to document multiple narratives to reflect the diversity of the LGBTQ community; and the impact of alterations and changes in use on authenticity. I often question if the site would be so revered and appreciated without the current Stonewall bar as a tenant. Yet Stonewall has become a symbol and easy-to-understand—albeit limited—calling [End Page 137] Click for larger view View full resolution Figure 2. Participants at one of the earliest known demonstrations in support of LGBTQ civil rights at The Black Cat in Los Angeles, CA, Feb. 11, 1967. (Courtesy of ONE Archives at the USC Libraries) card for what defines an LGBTQ historic site while simultaneously conveying the importance of LGBTQ place-based heritage. Unfortunately, the focus on Stonewall perpetuates the myth that the first act of American LGBTQ resistance erupted in June of 1969 in New York City and minimizes similar occurrences that preceded it at Cooper Do-Nut in Los Angeles in 1959, Compton's Cafeteria in San Francisco in 1966, and the Black Cat Tavern in Los Angeles in 1967 (Figure 2).4 It overshadows the much older, richer, and geographically diverse LGBTQ past that can be documented centuries earlier. The emphasis on a bar also limits public understanding of the various categories of LGBTQ historic properties—a catchall term for sites, buildings, structures, objects, landscapes, and historic districts. These can be sites that are self-referential, emphasizing LGBTQ history, as well as those sites that illustrate the community's broad cultural influence and...

Exploring twentieth-century LGBTQ Jewish London, this article argues that the everyday places where intersectional, sexual and cultural, religious and spiritual identities were negotiated, experienced, explored and reconciled must be preserved in place. Adopting a historical method, it draws on the experiences and resources recorded by the community-led "Rainbow Jews" heritage project, 2012–15, including a new collection of 40 oral histories. Over the course of the twentieth century, the nexus of Jewish and LGBTQ lives, the places where people lived, rallied, played and prayed, the streets and parks, community halls and parks, shifted from the East End to the West End, from central to north London. This reflected broader urban, social and historical changes, overlapping with the evolving geographies of the broader LGBTQ and Jewish communities. Few of these places are significant for their architectural value or historical fabric, so evade conventional urban heritage practice. This article suggests that treating heritage as a social and historical and an urban and spatial process generates challenging yet surmountable demands for preserving heritage in place. It proposes that dynamic means are required to safeguard the legacy of valuable LGBTQ heritage projects such as "Rainbow Jews."

TellTale was a temporary, site-specific installation commissioned for the Adelaide Festival in Australia. It comprised a series of interventions located on a riverfront esplanade that had a long history of recreational use as well as cruising and violence against gay men. The installation altered the activity in a section of the park and gave greater visibility to a range of social and sexual encounters. It marked the seam between authorized and unauthorized activity, highlighting the complexity of uses of public space. As George Chauncey observed in Gay New York, gay men "appropriate for themselves spaces that were not marked as gay, and construct a gay city in the midst of, yet invisible to the dominant city." This article describes the TellTale installation in the context of artists' and architects' explorations of Queer Space in the 1990s. It seeks to reflect critically on ephemeral and overlooked parts of cultural heritage and reveal more substantial accounts of these histories

Representations of LGBTQ history in the built environment abound and comprise a range of property types beyond that quintessential symbol of LGBTQ space: the gay bar. This article presents one way of categorizing the types of properties related to LGBTQ history. Sites discussed include sites of support and social life, sites of protest and political organizing, LGBTQ businesses and organizations, sites of spirituality, sites of persecution and violence, health-related sites, sites of separatism, and sites of art and architecture. Examples of each type of site further elaborate the range of LGBTQ history and the ways it dovetails with the larger story of the United States past

By meshing the concerns of preservation and design we might arrive at a more productive condition of "critical reflection" that considers time, space, and their interactions. Such interlacing yields both an operative mode of preservation and a post-operative mode of design. Through an examination of the methods of several examples, this article explores how inverting expectations of where the creative act lies provokes the redefinition of both preservation and design.