In July of this year Asian Longhorned Beetles were found in six red maple trees in a wooded area about a mile from my house in Boston’s Roslindale neighborhood. Asian Longhorned Beetles bore into hardwood trees like birch, maple, and elm, eventually killing them if left untreated. Authorities consequently set up a quarantine area that includes my street. This means no one is allowed to transport firewood or yard waste out of the area, and an inspection is being conducted within the quarantine zone. There is a particular concern for the trees of Arnold Arboretum, which lies within the quarantine area.In 2008 there was an Asian Longhorned Beetle outbreak in Worcester, Massachusetts. The city was forced to cut down 25,000 trees. Here’s a before and after comparison:
With old trees, as with historic buildings and artifacts, sometimes you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.This August in Amsterdam, the tree that Anne Frank studied (and wrote about) from her attic hideaway (adjacent to the Anne Frank House but not on its property) fell down, despite efforts since 2008 to support its weakened trunk. Its owner plans to donate parts of the tree to Jewish museums around the world.On Boston Common, in the heart of the city, there used to be an elm tree, called the Great Elm. It was a landmark, and some people called it Boston's Oldest Inhabitant. When a storm felled it in 1876, L. Prang & Co. printed portraits of the tree onto thin, veneer-like slices made from its trunk; Mayor Samuel Cobb even signed the image to certify its authenticity:
Another Boston tree had even greater historical significance: the Liberty Tree. During the years leading up to the American Revolution, Bostonians met under the Liberty Tree to mount public acts of protest against the British government. Unlike Boston’s indoor meeting places—Faneuil Hall, Old South Meeting House, and the Town House—anyone could witness or participate in the goings-on under the Liberty Tree, regardless of class, race, or gender. British troops cut down the tree when they occupied Boston in 1775-1776 at the beginning of the Revolutionary War.Other cities have particular relationships with trees. Helsinki would be nothing without its birches. Every resident of Tokyo, and Washington, DC, marks the coming of spring in their city with cherry blossoms. The ombú trees in Buenos Aires are captivating, with their exposed roots and deeply shaded canopies.So how can we more fully recognize these trees that have witnessed so much change in our cities? Artist Katie Holten organized an outdoor “Tree Museum” along the Grand Concourse in the Bronx in 2009. The main feature of her project is a cell phone audio tour, in which 100 trees “talk” through the voices of local residents from all walks of life. Organizations in San Francisco and San Jose lead walking tours of interesting trees in their cities. And the UK’s Woodland Trust has an “Ancient Tree Hunt” feature on its website that allows users to find notable trees, both urban and rural, on an interactive map, and also to nominate trees for inclusion in the Trust’s registry. Plenty of science museums have organized exhibitions about trees, but I haven’t found any history museums that have explored, in an historical context, what trees can mean to a place. I think it would be an interesting project. With hugging allowed.
Living History in Rauma
You’re looking at a birds-eye view of the historic district in the port city of Rauma, on the southeastern coast of Finland. Named a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1991, Old Rauma consists of about 600 wooden buildings, a particularly high concentration of 18th- and 19th-century Finnish vernacular architecture. I was there on Friday for an expert tour given by Tanja Vahtikari. The photo was taken from the tower of Rauma’s 15th-century Church of the Holy Cross.I know Tanja through the network of urban historians at the Universities of Helsinki, Tampere, and Turku. Tanja is about to complete her PhD dissertation on UNESCO World Heritage sites, and she is using Rauma as a case study. As we spent the day meandering through the old town, with Tanja pointing out sites of interest on each block, we had a meandering conversation about historic districts, heritage policy, and 21st-century compromises.Most of the 600 buildings in Old Rauma are privately owned and occupied. While it is certainly a tourist destination, Old Rauma is also a high-functioning residential neighborhood. According to Tanja, the historic district has cultivated an identity as a living heritage site. So, for example, there is no attempt to make Old Rauma a pedestrian zone; residents are free to drive and park throughout the district. And, in contrast with the old wooden town of Porvoo, whose businesses—restaurants and knick-knack shops—serve mainly tourists, Old Rauma boasts hair salons, a hardware store, and other amenities needed by locals.
I was impressed with the resources the City of Rauma provides to assist residents in negotiating the tricky business of living in an historic home. There is a preservation restriction on each of Old Rauma’s wooden buildings, which means that all exterior and any major interior alterations are subject to an approval process. The city employs a preservation architect devoted exclusively to Old Rauma, who works out of Tammela, a building renovation center with extensive services for residents. Homeowners can stop by Tammela to consult informally with the architect on projects big and small. There is a salvage operation where you can get a period-appropriate stove door and other architectural details at reasonable rates. There are demonstration rooms where you can learn how the walls of Rauma houses were constructed:
Or how to restore your doors:
Tammela also makes paint the old way, and will sell it to you for cheap:
You can even rent this workshop, with tons of power tools, for a mere 2 Euro a day:
So that you can make sure those 19th-century windows continue to look like this:
The result? There are plenty of instances in Old Rauma when the present intrudes on the past: the occasional 1920s or 1950s building mixed in with the older architecture, some decidedly contemporary commerce peeking out from 19th-century windows (I spotted both Subway and Benetton), and the hectic buzz of 2010 work and play. But preservation permeates Old Rauma nonetheless, and you get the sense that residents actively contend with the past on a daily basis. Moreover, thanks to resources like Tammela, Old Rauma is not a neighborhood exclusively for the upper class, as are many historic districts I’ve seen at home in the US—there are middle and even working class folks living here too.Historic preservation junkies might want to check out Tammela’s Renovation Guide, and here’s a great post by former Finland Fulbrighter Kenneth Kolson that explores the issues above in greater detail. I for one spent the entire bus ride home thinking about DIY projects for my 1914 duplex in Boston—that’s Old Rauma rubbing off on me.