The ‘art factory’, a natural re-use process James DOUET
[email protected] Paper presented at VCPD Research Centre for Industrial Heritage conference Prague, 14/15 October, 2011 Summary The importance of the informal occupation of old, redundant industrial spaces by artists and performers, sometimes leading to the creation of an ‘art factory’, is undervalued. It can be a critical early phase in the process of adaptation and revitalisation, leading later to more stable and economically viable forms of use. By changing negative perceptions and demonstrating the qualities and possibilities of a degraded site or neighbourhood, artists can open the way for more orthodox and longterm uses. This paper argues that this process is analogous to the concept of ecological succession. According to this theory, the first plant species to grow on barren or toxic industrial waste also change the substrate, allowing other species to move in and eventually replace them. The end of the process will be a stable community of ‘normal’ plants. Different examples of this progression are examined to support an argument in favour of encouraging gradual, unofficial or spontaneous adjustments to postindustrial uses as an alternative to formal, large-scale re-use projects. Key words Adaptive re-use, art factory, brown field, Introduction The occupation of industrial buildings by performers or by artists has a long history. They have often been the first people to move into old production sites which are disused or abandoned1. The primary attraction is probably the low cost of such spaces. Artists are sometimes welcomed as caretakers, to deter vandalism, or may simply occupy an empty building without the owner’s permission2. But industrial spaces also present positive values in themselves. Space is the foremost attraction: wide open floor spans, high ceilings, plenty of natural light (at least in older factories) all appeal to the contemporary artist. It is also reasonable to include an aesthetic appreciation. Industrial architecture is famous for its functionality, being clear of historical or decorative accretions. Years of dirt and machine oil that put off more conventional users can appear as a rich patina full of suggestive associations. And there may be a social dimension in groups occupying old spaces: shared experiences, the fruitful exchange of ideas, feelings of solidarity in facing official hostility or legal threats... Since the 1970s, numerous cultural institutions have appeared spontaneously based in spaces left behind by structural changes to our economic base. In cities in Europe and North America, these are associated with the historical changes we refer to as deindustrialisation, but they’re also more and more common in cities in China and other parts of Asia still with a fully industrial economy3. As a general definition, we are speaking about former industrial sites or buildings which have been occupied, adapted and re-used for contemporary art or performance uses. 1
In the extensive work on the subject by French scholars, these post-industrial sites are called espace en friche - ‘fallow’ spaces. And this is an interesting guide toward the attraction which they hold for creative people, suggesting as it does a lull, or waiting for new growth to start. The activities for which they want to use the sites are frequently experimental, innovative, and unsuitable for established or conventional creative spaces. Loud noise may make isolated abandoned sites attractive, and the chance to be spontaneous and escape the long production runs and planned programs of established centres is another. ‘Factory’ here is obviously a double reference, in part to the typology of the building, but also to new, creative ‘productions’ as in the name of Andy Warhol’s famous studio/gallery in New York. The ‘artists’ are typically varied, with many disciplines at work: as well as visual art, there is dance, music, theatre, broadcasting, film, writing, etc. One of the important internal advantages of the art factory is that all the stages of artistic production can sometimes be found in one place: as well as fellow artists, there may be sound engineers, lighting technicians, stage managers even public relations specialists, all the skills necessary for the proper functioning of the ‘chain of artistic cooperation’. Further opportunities for support and promotion may come from radio broadcasters, publishers, specialists in new technologies and cultural enterprises. The initial occupation and adaptation of the site may be spontaneous, poorly planned, completely under-financed, dangerous and in many cases illegal both in terms of the lack of permission from the legal owners and in the permitted uses of the site under local zoning regulations. But I would suggest is that this initial occupation of abandoned industrial buildings is a significant first step in a transformation process which will bring the site back into full economic ‘beneficial use’, and is akin to the ‘colonizing’ of areas of contaminated or barren industrial waste by particular plant species. In this sense we can employ the metaphor of ecological plant succession. According to this theory, land which is empty or ‘fallow’, perhaps after a fire or other natural event, is first colonised by a ‘pioneer’ group of plants. This original community gradually transforms itself, passing through several different assemblages of species, until a stable community known as the ‘climax community’ is reached. The key idea here is that it is the plants themselves which cause the succession - by enriching a barren substrate with more nutrients, in the case of waste, or by stabilising silt so lakes or wetlands fill in and dry out. This will give the opportunity for different plant communities to develop which in time will take the place of the earlier ones.
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Fig. 1 Urban functions of use, density and recognition show a succession of changes over 200 years, in SoHo, Manhattan. From Barr, 1995. How does the pattern of use of defunct industrial buildings after occupation by creative groups conform to this metaphor? In our case it is closure and abandonment which leave the building unoccupied, and the artists are the pioneer species, the only users who see the potential of the site. Their presence and activities, however, gradually changes the functions of the site – with occupation and use it becomes safer, for instance - as well as how it is perceived. Local people stop seeing it as a negative asset. Alternative users begin to see other possibilities. The diversity of uses grows. The building itself and the surrounding area start to undergo a revaluation as commercial interests adhere to the artistic projects – shows and exhibitions, bars and clubs, designers and so on. Rents and land values start to rise, and the pioneer, low cost community may find itself being displaced by commercial tenants, galleries or fashion outlets. Visitors stimulate the leisure economy and tourists become interested. This process may continue until finally a form of stable ‘climax community’ is reached, with the permanent re-use of the old spaces for wealthy residential users, conversion to mainstream arts spaces or offices4. Alternatively, and less welcome from our point of view, the market intervenes in a different way, and enhanced valuation of the land and its re-insertion into the commercial market prompts developers to seek redevelopment of the site for new offices or houses. This is obviously not the outcome we would want and points up the necessity for statutory protection regimes to work with market-led re-use. 3
So two aspects of this process will contribute to the conservation of historic industrial sites and buildings, and to the social and economic regeneration of their surroundings, which is our interest. One is that it results directly in the sustainable re-use of a historic building, and at minimal cost. The other is the ‘place-making’ effect on the surroundings and local area, a catalytic effect which changes negative perceptions, brings activity and reverses economic decline. As far as local communities are concerned, the early phase is generally a positive development, bringing greater security, social development and maybe economic options. The later stages, however, usually result in these residents being driven out in a pattern generally referred to as gentrification, as land values rise and rents go beyond their reach. The classic case study of this succession process is the SoHo district of Manhattan, famous for its extraordinary concentration of cast-iron facades. Some of these are older factories which were refronted to attract new commercial clients, but most were constructed from 1840 to 1880. By the early 1970s, the old industries were moving out, and the area became blighted by state schemes to build an expressway across the area5. In this ‘fallow’ moment, artists began to occupy the open lofts, attracted by their natural light and low rents, and often illegally occupying buildings which were still zoned for industrial use. After at first trying to expel them, the city government responded positively to this change in the community. From 1971, it created a special zoning category, ‘Live-Work Quarters for Artists’. By the 1980s, this had changed the perception of lofts to fashionable living spaces, and the community was again changing, rents were going up and galleries, clothes shops and restaurants from the leisure and tourist economy were moving in – in fact, gentrification. This is process is celebrated in the US as the ‘Soho effect’. Not so well known is that although some artists in time had to move away, surprisingly anti-free-market interventions limited or held back the advance of gentrification, as the city administration imposed rent controls and other local legislation. Many spaces are occupied by the same people for over 30 years ago, even if hedge-fund managers rather than artists now form the media’s profile of the local inhabitants. How can conservators or heritage managers use this process to promote its more positive aspects, of sustainable re-use and local regeneration? We can look at some lessons from the experience of Shanghai over the last two decades6. Following the Chinese economic reforms of the 1990s, the old industrial base of the city began to implode. Factory managers with heavy pension obligations rented out the old industrial spaces, and the low rents, coupled with the inherent attractions discussed above, began to draw in artists. Following a precedent set in Beijing by the 798 factory, a number of ‘art factories’ formed spontaneously, and the succession process began. 4
There the SoHo effect has gone in three directions. 1. Improvement to the sites attracted more commercial uses, though still related to the ‘art factory’ theme. The original artists were unable to stay when rents started to rise. As a result, while the industrial buildings survived and have been restored, they are often occupied by higher value uses from the cultural industry sector - galleries, architects’ offices, design studios – and tourist/leisure sector - cafes, shops, and restaurants. For instance, Warehouse 1305 was restored in 1997 and sparked an artistic renewal of the surrounding industrial district, winning the UNESCO Asia-Pacific Heritage Awards for Culture Heritage Conservation for changing attitudes to the re-use of historic industrial buildings7. 2. Improvements to the perception of the sites promptly attracted private capital which wanted to build high-rise buildings, and the factories were demolished. Warehouse 1131 was erected in 1921, the building had been used as a hotel, and then was run by the Second Rice Factory of Shanghai after 1949. It became one of the most successful of the early arts factories, but was a victim of its success. Commercial and political interests overcame local opinion and historic value and it was demolished in 2002. 3. Official policy changed in 2004 to promote arts/cultural industries as new centres of economic growth. The government sought to appropriate the succession process, starting its own art factories as seeds for new ‘cultural clusters’. This policy was summed up in a policy called ‘3 remain, 5 change’: property rights, structure and land use stay the same, while five aspects of the use and management of the site were allowed to change. So historic sites were sustained, although it’s nice to report that the official projects have lacked the dynamism of the spontaneous ones and have not always enjoyed the same successful trajectory. Conclusions The argument in this paper is largely an intuitive one. There is a lot of anecdotal evidence that informal occupation of redundant buildings, perhaps going on to the establishment of an ‘art factory’, is an effective way to kick-start the adaptive re-use process, but I must conclude by using the familiar formula that ‘further research is needed’. This process is a natural progression, which is found in many contrasting cultures and economic circumstances – as in the two examples here from New York and Shanghai. If redevelopment doesn’t lead to the historic site being demolished, then it is a satisfactory one from the point of view of the heritage building, irrespective of whether the creative users continues or are replaced by more conventional communities. Some aesthetic qualifications might be added to that statement, and we 5
all know examples which show how higher financial value has come at the cost of a site’s heritage value or authenticity, but the basic goal of keeping a building in ‘beneficial use’ is met in both outcomes. Occupation by artists can also have a favourable catalytic effect on the local area, even if the succession may in time result in the displacement of older communities by younger, richer ones through gentrification. Illegal occupation may be stimulating at first and foster a feeling of community, but it will kill off most projects in the end. But imaginative solutions can be found, as in the Manhattan case where special zoning permission was invented for registered artists, who were certified as such by the Department of Cultural Affairs. Administrations can help in other ways, especially through local environmental or infrastructure improvements. The New York planning department removed the planning blight over SoHo by cancelling the planned expressway. Shanghai city council helped the process of regeneration by carrying out environmental improvements on sections of the local Suzhou Creek, cleaning up a heavily polluted stretch of the waterway. Finally, there is no substitute for the legal protection for historic sites. SoHo was designated a Historic District by the city Preservation Committee in 1973. The success of the art factory movement and their persistent lobbying caused the Shanghai Municipal Peoples’ Congress to pass a resolution in 2002 to protect the industrial heritage of the area.
References 1
TRANSEUROPEHALLES, Les Fabriques, Lieux Imprevus. Paris: Editions de l’imprimeur, 2001. 287. 2
SKARBEK MALCZEWSKI Frédéric, L’initiative individuelle à l’aune des politiques culturelles. Mémoire de DESS. Responsabilité de projets culturels sous la direction d’Odile Blin, Université de Rouen, 2003. 115. 3
LEXTRAIT, Fabrice: Friches, laboratoires, fabriques, squats, projets pluridisciplinaires... une nouvelle étape de l’action culturelle, 2001. 4
WYNNE, Derek, ed. The Culture Industry: the Arts in Urban Regeneration. Manchester Polytechnic, Centre for Employment Research, 1992. 5
BARR, Alistair: SoHo, New York, mixed use, density and the power of the myth. University of Greenwich, 1995.
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NANXI, Su: Art Factories in Shanghai: Urban Regeneration Experience of PostIndustrial Districts. Doctoral thesis, National University of Singapore, 2008. 7
DE MUYNCK, Bert: The Rise and Fall of Beijing's Creative Business. Building Review, 2007 (5). 12-13.
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