My Uncle Caleb I was just five or six years old. The last memory I have of him at our house was the only time I remember him with two legs. After that, we got news he had been shot by a man he thought was a friend. Shot at close range through his knee and half of his left thigh. Gangrene set in and took a long time to heal. He was in the hospital for quite some time. Dad brought him to our home with one leg and a crutch. He had to carry him across the high river to keep his cast and crutch dry. For the next few years we kids, who were older, helped take care of him. We would take the train to stay with him and Grandma for two or three weeks at a time. We would work the fields and river banks. Uncle couldn't get a job, so he started his own business making fishnets to sell to neighbors and keep himself busy. He would set traps in the winter to capture animals for skins and sell them to a Louisville fur company. Sometimes I would go to the woods with him. Those woods were full of all kinds of fur creatures. Uncle would tell me how he owned land up on the mountain, and one day he was going to cut trees from his property and have a houseboat made from the wood. Many years passed. I lived in Ohio and would take trips to visit my hometown when I could. I had heard Uncle Caleb had built his houseboat, so on one trip, I ventured to find Uncle Caleb's houseboat nestled under the river bridge. Boy, was he surprised when I knocked on his door. We had a wonderful visit--my last one. Later I went to his funeral on the mountain, where the trees that made his home were cut from. I am so glad I got that unplanned wonderful visit.

In this volume, some of the leading figures in the field have been brought together to write on the roots of the historic preservation movement in the United States, ranging from New York to Santa Fe, Charleston to Chicago. Giving Preservation a History explores the long history of historic preservation: how preservation movements have taken a leading role in shaping American urban space and development; how historic preservation battles have reflected broader social forces; and what the changing nature of historic preservation means for efforts to preserve national, urban, and local heritage. The second edition adds several new essays addressing key developing areas in the field by major new voices. The new essays represent the broadening range of scholarship on historic preservation generated since the publication of the first edition, taking better account of the role of cultural diversity and difference within the field while exploring the connections between preservation and allied concerns such as environmental sustainability, LGBTQ and nonwhite identity, and economic development.

Winner of the 2016 Antoinette Forrester Downing Award presented by the Society of Architectural Historians. In many cities across the world, particularly in Europe, old buildings form a prominent part of the built environment, and we often take it for granted that their contribution is intrinsically positive. How has that widely-shared belief come about, and is its continued general acceptance inevitable? Certainly, ancient structures have long been treated with care and reverence in many societies, including classical Rome and Greece. But only in modern Europe and America, in the last two centuries, has this care been elaborated and energised into a forceful, dynamic ideology: a ‘Conservation Movement’, infused with a sense of historical destiny and loss, that paradoxically shared many of the characteristics of Enlightenment modernity. The close inter-relationship between conservation and modern civilisation was most dramatically heightened in periods of war or social upheaval, beginning with the French Revolution, and rising to a tragic climax in the 20th-century age of totalitarian extremism; more recently the troubled relationship of ‘heritage’ and global commercialism has become dominant. Miles Glendinning’s new book authoritatively presents, for the first time, the entire history of this architectural Conservation Movement, and traces its dramatic fluctuations in ideas and popularity, ending by questioning whether its recent international ascendancy can last indefinitely.

Dance is the art least susceptible to preservation since its embodied, kinaesthetic nature has proven difficult to capture in notation and even in still or moving images. However, frameworks have been established and guidance made available for keeping dances, performances, and choreographers’ legacies alive so that the dancers of today and tomorrow can experience and learn from the dances and dancers of the past. In this volume, a range of voices address the issue of dance preservation through memory, artistic choice, interpretation, imagery and notation, as well as looking at relevant archives, legal structures, documentation and artefacts. The intertwining of dance preservation and creativity is a core theme discussed throughout this text, pointing to the essential continuity of dance history and dance innovation. The demands of preservation stretch across time, geographies, institutions and interpersonal connections, and this book focuses on the fascinating web that supports the fragile yet urgent effort to sustain our dancing heritage. The articles in this book were originally published in the journal Dance Chronicle: Studies in Dance and the Related Arts.

This book provides a single-volume introduction to the principles, strategies and practices currently applied by librarians and record keepers to the preservation of digital information. Also included are case studies of practice from the library, record keeping, audiovisual archiving, data archiving and geospatial communities.