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T W E N T Y S E C O N D E D I T I O N
T H E B U I L D I N G C O N S E R VAT I O N D I R E C T O R Y 2 0 1 5
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Foreword
I
F GOD IS IN THE DETAILS, as the cliché
goes, then this directory is the bible for those
seeking skilled practitioners who can preserve
the essence of historic buildings – an essence that
often consists as much in patina and the subtle
touch of a craftsman as in the raw materials. The
BCD is, in effect, a celebration of skill of the kind
that can easily be side-lined in a homogenised,
standardised and mechanised world.
Erosion of detail is one of our big problems. The
number of demolitions of historic buildings has
fallen, if not to negligible levels then certainly to
levels that are far lower than the post-war average.
In 1979 nearly 700 buildings were the subject of
demolition applications. That figure fell to just over
ten in 2013, a reduction of nearly 99 per cent and a
real vindication of the sustained efforts of building
conservation lobbyists over the past half-century.
So far, so good: on one level, the climate for historic
buildings is unprecedentedly benign. But behind
the figures lies a mass of smaller alterations, to
windows, doors, plan-form, fabric, setting. Assessing the impact of these now forms the bulk of the day-to-day casework of amenity
societies, for whom the staple is now not so much avoidance of catastrophic change as mitigation and amelioration of incremental
impacts. Cumulatively, over time, these can be almost as damaging.
The fact that we are in this position is hardly surprising. In part it is a product of success: if buildings themselves are being saved,
it is likely that more and more work will involve altering existing fabric. In an ideal world, it would also follow that the skills to do that
sensitively would be in greater demand and be placed at a premium. To some degree that has happened: the satisfying bulk of this
volume is testament to a thriving marketplace for building conservation skills.
But we can never be complacent. The will to save buildings is a necessary but not a sufficient condition of a healthy historic
environment. That also requires a willingness to seek and follow the right advice from people who know how historic buildings are
made, how they mature and how they decay: people, if you like, with an intuitive understanding of organic architecture. Quite often,
in the interests of a historic building, we suggest that applicants go back to the drawing board,
literally; or find a new architect; or commission a conservation appraisal; or seek specialist
skills. The last two of these, certainly, are about encouraging a deeper awareness of a living
building that is capable of speaking to those who understand the language. These days, when
house owners are routinely subject to anything from time pressures, to onerous building
regulations, to the blandishments of modern-day snake-oil salesmen peddling plastic windows,
it can be difficult, especially for the novice and even for those with good intentions, to follow
the path that is truly best for the building. In the midst of these confusions, time spent
browsing this directory is time well spent.
Lord Crathorne KCVO
President
A restored radial window is returned to its rightful place during the conservation of a 1750s
townhouse in Newcastle upon Tyne. The project was commended in the Georgian Group/Savills
Architectural Awards for demonstrating light-touch conservation with an emphasis on retention of
patina and recovery of lost detail.