Fake Heritage: Why We Rebuild Monuments by John Darlington review: An invitation to the curious
Fakery has a bad image, conjuring up thoughts of art forgeries created to rip off unwary collectors and the horrors of fake news. But when it comes to heritage, the situation is more complex with many buildings or artefacts that aren’t the real thing bringing enjoyment and public benefit, says John Darlington. True, there are the archaeological finds such as Piltdown Man, the skull of a supposedly 500,000 year-old human that was nothing of the sort, or the forged Tiara of Saitaphernes, bought by the Louvre in the mistaken belief that it was an antiquity, that turn out to be modern creations produced to enhance the fame or fortune, or both, of the makers.
Often, however, as the author demonstrates, fakery is deployed for better reasons. The most obvious is a desire to protect or restore aesthetic appeal. He cites Frankfurt’s medieval Altstadt, re-created relatively recently in response to popular demand after its destruction in the Second World War and initial replacement with modern architecture, and the famous campanile in Venice’s St Mark’s Square, which many admirers probably don’t realise is a replica of the original which collapsed in 1902.
In London there’s 23 and 24 Leinster Terrace in Bayswater, which appear to be part of a terrace of stuccoed townhouses, but are in fact a façade a few bricks deep constructed to mask a vented section of Tube line while maintaining the symmetrical beauty of the street. Another illustration of fakery’s positive side is replication for protection. The ancient caves at Lascaux and Chauvet in France can’t tolerate large numbers of visitors, but nearby replicas give tourists the chance to see their wall art as it looks in the originals.
Other fakes, such as mock ruins in landscape gardens, seek to entertain in different ways or pay tribute by copying a landmark, although success depends partly on people’s views of whether a building out of context works in the same way and Darlington looks at how far factors such as location and motive matter. London Bridge rebuilt in Arizona isn’t the same, but shifting the Egyptian temples of Abu Simbel higher to avoid being flooded feels justified and didn’t stopped it later being declared a World Heritage Site. Similarly, when it comes to motive, the need to restore Notre Dame to its former magnificence feels obvious because of its role as a symbol of French culture, even if there’s a valid argument that change over time is part of a great monument. By contrast, Saddam Hussein’s clumsy attempt to rebuild Babylon seems less worthy because it was partly about bolstering the dictator’s power.
The degree to which the intent to deceive matters is also explored, along with the role of nationalism in some instances of fake heritage. Other subtle debates covered include whether or not the repair or replacement of parts of a building, be it roof tiles in a house, stones in a cathedral, or the metal in the Eiffel Tower, undermines authenticity and turns an original into a fake.
Darlington’s concludes that whether fakery is good or bad is often nuanced, but that it’s important to “look closer, be curious, challenge” what’s in front of us to understand better what we’re being presented with. He’s right and this enjoyable book offers a good way to learn how to do that.
Fake Heritage: Why We Rebuild Monuments by John Darlington (Yale University Press, £25)
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