Industrial culture embodies the stark sobriety of modernity and, perhaps precisely for that reason, possesses a unique beauty. Mine shafts, machine shops, coking plants, power plants, company housing complexes, and rail yards were not built to please the eye. They were meant to function, bear loads, harness energy, and speed up processes. And yet they have long since developed an aesthetic presence that extends far beyond their original purpose. They embody not only the history of technology but also a way of interpreting the world.

Testaments to an Ambivalent Progress

For industrial heritage tells the story of an era that believed in progress—often with admirable consistency, not infrequently with brutal ruthlessness. It tells of work and discipline, of resources and overexploitation, of social advancement and social hardship. Hardly any other cultural field forces us so clearly to endure ambivalence. Industrial culture is never merely a monument; it is always also a diagnosis.

Preservation Means Taking a Stand

It is precisely in this that its significance for the present lies. Those who preserve a testament to industrial history are not merely conserving steel, concrete, or brick, but a specific conception of humanity’s relationship to the world: organizing, producing, intervening. The question of how we deal with these places is therefore more than a technical one. It is also an ethical and social one. What do we preserve—and why? The pride of engineering? The memory of work and community? Or even the impositions of a system whose traces continue to have an impact to this day?

Heritage Preservation: Between Conservation and Remembrance

Restoration and historic preservation face a unique challenge here. Industrial buildings demand precision on both a grand and a detailed scale. Their dimensions are impressive, their materials are often rough, and their aging process is complex. At the same time, their history must not be glossed over. Patina, alterations, periods of disuse, and transformations are all part of their truth.

This issue invites readers to view industrial culture not as a nostalgic backdrop, but as cultural memory in monumental form. For even where production once took place, something else has long since emerged: a place of remembrance, of insight—and, despite its harshness, sometimes even of wonder.

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Installation for the Blue Night

Building design

“Forest sculpture” was the title of a light and space installation by landscape architecture students from the Technical University of Munich. For the “Blue Night” in Nuremberg on May 3, 2014, they transformed market umbrellas with bags and LED light tubes into an illuminated forest.

“Like a sea of clouds! Like an illusion! Simply beautiful! Wow!” The visitors to the “Blue Night” are visibly impressed. They gaze almost reverently into the shimmering blue-green treetops. There is hardly anyone who doesn’t pull out their cell phone camera to capture this unreal moment shortly after sunset.
The “forest sculpture” was one of the main attractions of the “Blue Night” on May 3. The theme of this year’s annual cultural event organized by the city of Nuremberg was longing. The basic idea behind the illuminated installation was to translate the everyday location of the main market into a symbolic place of longing.

Landscape architecture students from the Technical University of Munich took the fruit and vegetable market and its visitors on a walk through the woods: into a forest of artificial trees built from typical elements of the market. Market umbrellas became tree trunks, bags became foliage and fruit crates became seats.
For six months, 24 students worked together with the chair towards this moment. Up to 44 students worked on the main market during the six days of construction. The students had to inflate 20,000 plastic bags, assemble 240 wooden pallets, set up 80 market umbrellas and hang them with bags and LED light tubes.

In October 2013, the students entered the design phase through a constructive competition process. After several stages, the “forest sculpture” installation emerged from the 24 proposals, which all participants then worked on together until it was ready for implementation. Numerous questions had to be clarified during the development phase: What is the volume of 20,000 plastic bags and how long does it take to fill them with air? Which light source is suitable and how do I make 400 meters of cable invisible in the square? The students were confronted with hurdles such as fire protection and stability. Burning plastic bags dripping down on visitors, for example, or market umbrellas toppling over in a storm – the installation had to withstand all eventualities.

Understanding and solving the pitfalls of implementation and approval planning is one of the most important contents of “studio1zu1” – a teaching format and field of research of the Chair of Landscape Architecture and Public Space at the Technical University of Munich. Despite all the specifications, regulations and compromises, the installation was to be realized in line with its original intention – and of course within budget. The spontaneous applause after the lighting was switched on was a well-deserved reward for everyone involved.

Forest sculpture, Nuremberg main market, a light and space installation
Chair of Landscape Architecture and Public Space (Prof. Regine Keller), Technical University of Munich;
Project management: Felix Lüdicke; Supervision: Thomas Hauck, Felix Metzler;
Design: Julian Birkmaier, Rita Codea, Franziska Cußmann, Sabrina Daubmeier, Tobias Drexler, Elisabeth Egerter, Vanessa Frisch, Katharina Gebhart, Eva Grömling, Felix Gutmann, Franziska Hepp, Ines Hofmann, Melanie Hölzl, Kristjan Kohu, Yun Kyeong Hoh, Hannah Layer, Martina Lehmann, Theresia Loy, Pim Lucassen, Fabian Obert, Benjamin Schwab, Philipp Uerlings, Georg Wagner, Michael Wenzel

Location: Google Maps

Dream houseboat

Building design
Living dream houseboat buy book tip

Before the conversion: the old Bauhütten ship from GDR times

A family dares to fulfill a lifelong dream and converts a houseboat. You can read about the construction work and life on the boat in “Four rooms, kitchen, boat”.

“Isn’t it cold there?” is the most common question asked of houseboat residents. Concerned passers-by also ask whether the boat rocks and makes them feel sick or whether the plates fall out of the cupboard from time to time. The Eisenhardt family is happy to provide information, as they have fulfilled a dream that many people only dare to dream of: they have purchased an old GDR-era construction ship, converted it and made it their permanent home on the water. And to answer at least the first question: No, it’s not cold, because the crew, consisting of father, mother and two children, have insulated their ship “Helene” with 20 centimeters of rock wool. They are also self-sufficient in terms of energy and have already survived several winters in the crunching ice.

The woman on board, Berlin journalist Uta Eisenhardt, has now compiled her experiences in a small book entitled “Vier Zimmer, Küche, Boot – Eine Familie zieht aufs Wasser”. What is interesting for houseboat aspirants and leisure captains, for example, is that she describes the search for a berth on the Spree in Berlin as particularly grueling. The officials at the city planning office were anything but delighted: buying a houseboat and mooring it in Berlin’s inland waters? This was not permitted under building law, because “riverbanks are public spaces for recreation and nature conservation”. Only persistence will help, says Uta Eisenhardt. She also gives a few useful tips at the end: Costs, approval, living space, floor plan, mooring fee, condition, year of construction through to sleeping berths. As the reader learns in the course of reading the book, inexperienced boat owners have many misfortunes – after all, the home sweet home can not only burn down, but also sink.

“Four rooms, kitchen, boat”
Uta Eisenhardt
22.90 euros. Published by Delius Klasing, Bielefeld 2016

Anyone who wants to find out more about this exotic form of living also has the opportunity to do so at the first “Houseboat Conference”: Verlag Delius Klasing is organizing it on 20 October in Hamburg (at a price of 398 euros). Many questions can be clarified there, such as: What does it mean to live on the water, what options are there, what needs to be considered when building and constructing floating structures and what is the legal framework?

All photos: Eisenhardt