Barn baby barn!

Susan Stava for The New York Times

One of the more complex issues of preservation is how to, or whether to, preserve buildings that have little architectural merit but help provide a sense of place or meaning. Some would argue that many rowhouses or brownstones have little architectural merit in and of themselves. But we are lucky they have been, and continue to be, preserved because of the sense of place they give our neighborhoods.

In New York, one of the current fights is over the industrial landscape which is rapidly disappearing due to new development. This is particularly true in Williamsburg/Greenpoint and Red Hook. Part of the problem is that many of these buildings have outlived their use, are in poor condition, and are architecturally nondescript (i.e. no major architect designed them, there's no extraordinary design, etc.). However, they stand as reminders of our city's industrial past and are distinct parts of the city's landscape. Luckily, many old factories and warehouses are being adapted for residential, business, or other uses.

But what do we do when buildings have outlived their use and are much more difficult to reuse?

This brings me to barns. The barn and silo are probably the most emblamatic features (non-animal) of the American farm. They have also disappeared from much of our country's formerly agrarian landscape and those that survive are often under threat from new developments. There is an interesting article in today's New York Times about just such a barn in Putnam County, New York:

When the Barn is the Battlefield

The barn is in the path of a road that would be widened for a new housing development. Many locals are hoping not to lose it.

“'It reminds us of the day when farms framed Patterson,' said Judy Kelley-Moberg, a retired earth science teacher who is writing a book about the town’s history. 'I understand the reasons for development, but there are certain spots in the landscape that are important to a community in terms of letting them know who they are.'”

The idea of "letting [people] know who they are" through the built environment is what preservation is all about. It applies to all types of buildings, be they residential, industrial, institutional, agrarian, etc.

Will upstate New York still be upstate New York if is loses all traces of its agrarian roots?

Will the Gowanus Canal still be the Gowanus Canal if it loses all traces of its industrial roots?

Will the Bowery still be the Bowery if it loses all traces of its seedy roots (the flophouses, McGuirk's Suicide Hall, CBGB's, etc.)?

Luckily for the barns of America, there are people fighting to save them. And in some cases, winning. Two of the more than two dozen groups nation-wide are the National Barn Alliance (quoted in the article) and BARN AGAIN! (an organization co-sponsored by the National Trust and Successful Farming magazine). And the article notes that New York has done plenty of good in this regard:

"New York has led the way, spending $6 million to rehabilitate 340 historic barns throughout the state since 2001."

But back to my earlier point, it gets hard to save barns when they've outlived their use. And I'm not talking about barns that are still are working farms but need some renovation (a lot of what BARN AGAIN! does), but barns that have survived past their farm's demise. Barns whose sole purpose is to stand as a link to our past. Unfortunately, many barns are looked at as (and maybe are) unsuitable for any productive reuse. They are not unlike the buildings that make up Officer's Row, the Domino Sugar Factory, the Todd Shipyard graving dock, or many of the other historic buildings threatened with demolition in New York City. Buildings that make our neighborhoods unique, give them character, and tell us who we were. We must preserve them when we can before we realize what we've lost.