Museums around the world are often affected by major catastrophes, and yet planning for these disasters is an often neglected aspect of museum practice. New Zealand is not immune from these events, as can be seen in the recent series of serious earthquakes in Christchurch in 2010 and 2011. This dissertation considers how prepared the New Zealand museum sector is to handle unexpected events that negatively affect its buildings, staff, operations and treasured collections. The central research question was: What is the overall state of emergency planning in the New Zealand museum sector? There was a significant gap in the literature, especially in the local context, as there has been only one other comparable study conducted in Britain, and nothing locally. This dissertation makes a valuable contribution to the field of museum studies by drawing on theory from relevant areas such as crises management literature and by conducting original empirical research on a topic which has received little attention hitherto. The research employed a number of methods, including a review of background secondary sources, a survey and interviews. After contextualising the study with a number of local examples, Ian online survey was then developed an which enabled precise understanding of the nature of current museum practices and policies around emergency planning. Following this I conducted several interviews with museum professionals from a variety of institutional backgrounds which explored their thoughts and feelings behind the existing practices within the industry. The findings of the research were significant and somewhat alarming: almost 40% of the museum and galleries in New Zealand do not have any emergency plan at all, and only 11% have what they considered ‘complete’ plans. The research revealed a clear picture of the current width and depth of planning, as well as practices around updating the plans and training related to them. Within the industry there is awareness that planning for emergencies is important, but museum staff typically lack the knowledge and guidance needed to conduct effective emergency planning. As a result of the analysis, several practical suggestions are presented aimed at improving emergency planning practices in New Zealand museums. However this study has implications for museum studies and for current museum practice everywhere, as many of the recommendations for resolving the current obstacles and problems are applicable anywhere in the world, suggesting that New Zealand museums could become leaders in this important area.
Local independent radio stations in Christchurch, New Zealand, had their operations severely disrupted by major earthquakes in September 2010 and February 2011. This article examines the experiences of three radio stations that were shut out of their central city premises by the cordon drawn around the city after the 22 February quake. One of the stations continued broadcasting automatically, while the others were unable to fully get back on air for several weeks afterwards. All of the stations had to manage access to workspaces, the emotional needs of staff and volunteers, the technical ability to broadcast, and the need to adapt content appropriately when back on air. For the locally based radio managers decisions had to be made about the future of the stations in a time of significant emotional, physical, and geological upheaval. The article explores how these radio stations were disrupted by the earthquake, and how they returned to air through new combinations and interconnections of people, workspace, technology, content and transmission.
Architecture and music have a long intertwining history.These respective creative forces many times have collaborated into monumental place, harboured rich occasion, been catalyst for cultural movement and defined generations. Together they transcend their respective identities. From dinky local church to monstrous national stadia, together they are an intense concentration, a powerfully addictive dosage where architecture is the place, music is the faith, and people are the reason. Music is a programme that architecture often celebrates in poetic and grand fashion; a superficial excuse to symbolise their creative parallels. But their relationship is much richer and holds more value than just the opportunity to attempt architectural metaphor.While music will always overshadow the architecture in the sense of a singular event, architecture is like the soundman behind the mixing desk. It’s not the star front and centre grabbing your attention, but is responsible for framing the star. It is the foundational backdrop, a critical pillar. Great architecture can help make great music. In this sense music is a communication of architecture, it is the ultimate creative function. Christchurch, New Zealand, is a city whose story changed in an instant. The seismic events of 2010 and 2011 have become the overriding subject of its historical narrative, as it will be for years to come. Disaster redefines place (the town of Napier, struck by an earthquake in 1931, exemplifies this). There is no quantifiable justification for an exploration of architecture and music within the context of Christchurch. The Town Hall, one of New Zealand’s most architecturally significant buildings, is under repair. The Christ Church Cathedral will more than likely be rebuilt to some degree of its former self. But these are echoes of the city that Christchurch was.They are saved because they are artefact. Evidence of history.This thesis makes the argument for the new, the better than before, and for the making of opportunity from disaster, by proposing a ‘new’ town hall, conceived from the sound of old.
This thesis revisits the topic of earthquake recovery in Christchurch City more than a decade after the Canterbury earthquakes. Despite promising visions of a community reconnected and a sustainable and liveable city, significant portions of the city’s core – the Red Zone – remain dilapidated and “eerily empty”. At the same time, new developments in other areas have proven to be alienated or underutilised. Currently, the Canterbury Earthquake Recovery Authority’s plans for the rebuilding highlight the delivery of more residential housing to re-populate the city centre. However, prevalent approaches to housing development in Christchurch are ineffective for building an inclusive and active community. Hence, the central inquiry of the thesis is how the development of housing complexes can revitalise the Red Zone within the Christchurch city centre. The inquiry has been carried out through a research-through-design methodology, recognising the importance of an in-depth investigation that is contextualised and combined with the intuition and embodied knowledge of the designer. The investigation focuses on a neglected site in the Red Zone in the heart of Christchurch city, with significant Victorian and Edwardian Baroque heritage buildings, including Odeon Theatre, Lawrie & Wilson Auctioneers, and Sol Square, owned by The Regional Council Environment Canterbury. The design inquiry argues, develops, and is carried through a place-assemblage lens to housing development for city recovery, which recognizes the significance of socially responsive architecture that explores urban renewal by forging connections within the social network. Therefore, place-assemblage criteria and methods for developing socially active and meaningful housing developments are identified. Firstly, this thesis argues that co-living housing models are more focused on people relations and collective identity than the dominant developer-driven housing rebuilds, as they prioritise conduits for interaction and shared social meaning and practices. Secondly, the adaptive reuse of derelict heritage structures is proposed to reinvigorate the urban fabric, as heritage is seen to be conceived as and from a social assemblage of people. The design is realised by the principles outlined in the ICOMOS charter, which involves incorporating the material histories of existing structures and preserving the intangible heritage of the site by ensuring the continuity of cultural practices. Lastly, design processes and methods are also vital for place-sensitive results, which pay attention to the site’s unique characteristics to engage with local stakeholders and communities. The research explores place-assemblage methods of photographic extraction, the drawing of story maps, precedent studies, assemblage maps, bricolages, and paper models, which show an assembly of layers that piece together the existing heritage, social conduits, urban commons and housing to conceptualise the social network within its place.
A Transitional Imaginary: Space, Network and Memory in Christchurch is the outcome and the record of a particular event: the coming together of eight artists and writers in Ōtautahi Christchurch in November 2015, with the ambitious aim to write a book collaboratively over five days. The collaborative process followed the generative ‘book sprint’ method founded by our facilitator for the event, Adam Hyde, who has long been immersed in digital practices in Aotearoa. A book sprint prioritises the collective voice of the participants and reflects the ideas and understandings that are produced at the time in which the book was written, in a plurality of perspectives. Over one hundred books have been completed using the sprint methodology, covering subjects from software documentation to reflections on collaboration and fiction. We chose to approach writing about Ōtautahi Christchurch through this collaborative process in order to reflect the complexity of the post-quake city and the multiple paths to understanding it. The city has itself been a space of intensive collaboration in the post-disaster period. A Transitional Imaginary is a raw and immediate record, as much felt expression as argued thesis. In many ways the process of writing had the character of endurance performance art. The process worked by honouring the different backgrounds of the participants, allowing that dialogue and intensity could be generative of different forms of text, creating a knowledge that eschews a position of authority, working instead to activate whatever anecdotes, opinions, resources and experiences are brought into discussion. This method enables a dynamic of voices that merge here, separate there and interrupt elsewhere again. As in the contested process of rebuilding and reimagining Christchurch itself, the dissonance and counterpoint of writing reflects the form of conversation itself. This book incorporates conflict, agreement and the activation of new ideas through cross-fertilisation to produce a new reading of the city and its transition. The transitional has been given a specific meaning in Christchurch. It is a product of local theorising that encompasses the need for new modes of action in a city that has been substantially demolished (Bennett & Parker, 2012). Transitional projects, such as those created by Gap Filler, take advantage of the physical and social spaces created by the earthquake through activating these as propositions for new ways of being in the city. The transitional is in motion, looking towards the future. A Transitional Imaginary explores the transitional as a way of thinking and how we understand the city through art practices, including the digital and in writing.