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title: "Conservation – Adaptation"
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summary: "Conservation – Adaptation is a collection of peer-reviewed papers from the 5th Workshop on Conservation organized by the European Association for Architectural Education in Hasselt/Liège in 2015. The volume explores strategies for adaptive reuse of heritage sites with symbolic value, particularly focusing on deconsecrated churches and maintaining the spirit of place through contemporary interventions."
tags: "heritage-conservation, adaptive-reuse, architectural-education, historic-churches, symbolic-value"
key_entities: "European Association for Architectural Education (EAAE) (organization), Donatella Fiorani (person), Loughlin Kealy (person), Stefano Francesco Musso (person), Hasselt (location), Liège (location), 5th Workshop on Conservation (event), Hasselt University (organization), Université de Liège (organization), adaptive-reuse (concept), spirit-of-place (concept)"
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# Conservation – Adaptation

Donatella Fiorani
Loughlin Kealy
Stefano Francesco Musso 
E d i t o r s 
KEEPING ALIVE THE SPIRIT OF THE PLACE
ADAPTIVE REUSE OF HERITAGE WITH
SYMBOLIC VALUE
CONSERVATION
ADAPTATION 
European 
Association for 
Architectural 
Education 
EAAE Transactions on Architectural Education no. 65 

Donatella Fiorani 
Loughlin Kealy 
Stefano Francesco Musso 
E d i t o r s 
KEEPING ALIVE THE SPIRIT OF THE PLACE 
ADAPTIVE REUSE OF HERITAGE 
WITH SYMBOLIC VALUE 
CONSERVATION 
ADAPTATION 

EAAE Transactions on Architectural Education no. 65 
Editors 
Donatella Fiorani, Loughlin Kealy, Stefano Francesco Musso 
with 
Claudine Houbart, Bie Plevoets (Managing Editor), Koenraad van Cleempoel 
Proofreader 
Anna Kealy 
Graphic layout 
Edizioni Quasar - Rome, Italy 
Production assistant 
Silvia Cutarelli 
Published by EAAE, Hasselt, Belgium 2017 
Printed in Italy. Arti Grafiche CDC srl 
ISBN 978-2-930301-65-5 
2nd edition 
ISBN 978-2-930301-66-2 
Copyright ©2017 by the authors. All rights reserved 
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, by print, photoprint, microfilm or by any other means 
without the written permission of the publisher. 
EAAE 
European Association for Architectural Education 

This book presents presents the papers written by 39 participants following the 5th Workshop on 
Conservation, organised by the Conservation Network of the European Association for Architectural 
Education in Hasselt/Liège in 2015. All papers have been peer-reviewed. The Workshop was 
attended by 73 participants from the following countries: Belgium, Czech Republic, Ireland, Italy, 
Montenegro, Netherlands, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Slovakia, Turkey, United Kingdom. 
Organising Committee 
Stéphane Dawans, Claudine Houbart, Inge Lens, Bie Plevoets, Daniela Prina, Koenraad Van Cleempoel 
Scientific Council 
Donatella Fiorani, Giovanna Franco, Claudine Houbart, Loughlin Kealy, Stefano Francesco Musso, 
Bie Plevoets, Koenraad van Cleempoel 
Hasselt University 
Université de Liège 
Hosting Institutions 

V V 
CONTENTS 
IX Acknowledgments 
01 Introduction 
Bie Plevoets and Daniela N. Prina 
Hasselt University, Belgium; Université de Liège, Belgium 
Essays 
11 New lives for deconsecrated churches. Symbolic values and the identity of places 
Francesca Albani 
Politecnico di Milano, Italy 
17 Building and urban space: the capability of this symbiosis or dialogue to keep the 
‘spirit’ of a place alive 
Simonetta Ciranna 
Università degli Studi dell’Aquila, Italy 
29 The dilemma of the redundant churches: to lose or to reuse? 
Rodica Crișan 
Ion Mincu University of Architecture and Urbanism, Romania 
41 Strategies for dissemination of historical knowledge and promotion of tourism in 
the reuse of churches 
Carolina De Falco 
Università degli Studi della Campania “Luigi Vanvitelli”, Italy 
49 Industrial architecture and society: the responsibilities of restoration 
Maurizio De Vita 
Università degli Studi di Firenze, Italy 
55 Suitable use rather than adaptive reuse: religious heritage in contemporary societies 
Carolina Di Biase 
Politecnico di Milano, Italy 
65 Modernity and oblivion. Adaptive-reuse and collective memories in heritage 
conservation experiences 
Sara Di Resta 
Università Iuav di Venezia, Italy 
73 Reuse and structure in historical architecture: constraints in the conservation project 
Adalgisa Donatelli 
“Sapienza” Università di Roma, Italy 

VI 
85 What is the meaning of this place? Loss of understanding and the place of the 
imagination in the context of historic church reuse 
Fintan Duffy 
Waterford Institute of Technology, Ireland 
93 Preserving the building - keeping the Sacred. The case of the Sainte Croix Collegiate 
Church in Liège 
Elena-Codina Duşoiu 
Ion Mincu University of Architecture and Urbanism, Romania 
105 The adaptive reuse of monastic structures. Portuguese examples and didactic 
experiences 
Teresa Cunha Ferreira 
University of Porto, Portugal 
117 Conservation and new uses in spaces of the holy 
Donatella Fiorani 
“Sapienza” Università di Roma, Italy 
131 The reuse of Gothic and neo-Gothic churches: fragile architectures, resilient in the 
face of change 
Caterina Giannattasio 
Università degli Studi di Cagliari, Italy 
139 The reuse of heritage with ‘symbolic value’ and university research 
Luca Giorgi 
Università degli Studi di Firenze, Italy 
151 Genius Loci restored: the challenge of adaptive reuse 
Marion Harney 
University of Bath, United Kingdom 
163 The ritual aspect of time in (religious) heritage – balance between daily and sacred 
life as a link between past and future 
Karen Lens 
Hasselt University, Belgium 
173 Mutation des valeurs primitives, relance de nouvelles. Mémoire et réutilisation du 
patrimoine à valeur politique-commémorative 
Bianca Gioia Marino 
Università degli Studi di Napoli “Federico II”, Italy 
181 Changes and continuity in material and immaterial values: experiences of accidental 
conservation 
Pietro Matracchi 
Università degli Studi di Firenze, Italy 
191 The ancient church of St. Augustine as ‘Aula Magna’ of the University of Bergamo 
Giulio Mirabella Roberti 
Università degli Studi di Bergamo, Italy 
201 Defending defences. A parallel between two cases: Loncin and Bucharest 
Monica Muresanu 
Ion Mincu University of Architecture and Urbanism, Romania 

VII 
207 Adaptive use and reuse: a time-specific process 
Francesca Murialdo 
Middlesex University, United Kingdom 
217 Permanencies and disappearances 
Stefano Francesco Musso 
Università degli Studi di Genova, Italy 
227 Adaptive reuse of heritage and conservation of atmosphere: an attainable target? 
Lucina Napoleone 
Università degli Studi di Genova, Italy 
235 The ‘change in meaning’ of built heritage bearing social value. The case of the 
former psychiatric hospital ‘Leonardo Bianchi’ in Naples (Italy) and the mining sites 
of Genk (Belgium): enhancement strategies 
Renata Picone 
Università degli Studi di Napoli “Federico II”, Italy 
247 Capturing the spirit of the place. A special conservation for intangible heritage 
Daniela Pittaluga 
Università degli Studi di Genova, Italy 
255 Conservation vs Adaptation: the role of Riegl’s historic values in Fort de Loncin in 
Liège, Belgium, and in the former Casa del Fascio in Predappio, Italy 
Marco Pretelli 
Università degli Studi di Bologna, Italy 
263 Preserving the ‘spirit of place’ through a ‘material conservation’: the interesting 
Neapolitan case of the ‘Sacred Temple of Scorziata’ 
Giuseppina Pugliano 
Università degli Studi di Napoli “Parthenope”, Italy 
273 Sacred architecture as space of the present time. Recent experiences in conservation 
and reuse of the churches in the historical centre of Naples 
Valentina Russo 
Università degli Studi di Napoli “Federico II”, Italy 
283 The project as re-signification between “lieux de mémoire” and “lieux d’histoire” 
Emanuela Sorbo 
Università Iuav di Venezia, Italy 
293 Adaptation of post-industrial architectural heritage to new cultural functions: the 
examples of Genk and Łódź 
Julia Sowinska-Heim 
University of Lódz, Poland 
305 The Dance of Dead Things 
Sally Stone 
Manchester School of Architecture, United Kingdom 
315 ‘Difficult heritage’. Use and re-use of prisons, sites of massacres and of other 
problematic places 
Nino Sulfaro 
Università Mediterranea di Reggio Calabria, Italy 

VIII 
323 Material heritage and cultural heritage 
Rita Vecchiattini 
Università degli Studi di Genova, Italy 
331 Conservation and adaptive reuse of industrial heritage: a case study in Sicily 
Antonella Versaci 
Università di Enna “Kore”, Italy 
341 The spirit of socialism and Czech post-war architecture in the shadow of 
preconceptions 
Petr Vorlík 
Czech Technical University, Czech Republic 
351 Adaptive reuse and challenges in value-associated historic buildings: adaptation of 
old churches to new uses 
Pooya Zargaran 
Università degli Studi di Bologna, Italy 
359 Can social significance be a good reason for the restoration of industrial buildings? 
The case of Borghetto’s warehouse (Brescia, Italy) - the reuse of a redundant 
industrial building 
Barbara Badiani and Barbara Scala 
Università degli Studi di Brescia, Italy 
369 Epilogue 
Loughlin Kealy 
University College Dublin, Ireland 
Annexe 
375 Reports of the Working Groups 
381 List of Participants 

IX 
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 
The Editors of this publication and the Scientific Council of Workshop 5 of the EAAE 
Conservation Network wish to acknowledge the contributions of all who contributed 
to the Workshop and the production of this book: the organising Committee from the 
Universities of Hasselt and Liège: Stéphane Dawans, Claudine Houbart, Inge Lens, Bie 
Plevoets, Daniela Prina and Koenraad van Cleempoel, and their institutions for their sup - 
port; the custodians of the sites visited in Liège, Maastricht and Hasselt; the rapporteurs 
of the Workshop sessions; the participants in the Workshop and the authors of the con - 
tributions to this publication. We acknowledge in particular the preliminary research by 
Claudine Houbart and Bie Plevoets in establishing the groundwork for the deliberations 
of the Workshop. 
We thank also Anna Kealy for her work in proofreading papers and texts and Silvia 
Cutarelli for her assistance in finalising the production. 
We acknowledge with gratitude the financial support of the European Association for 
Architectural Education (EAAE). 

Introduction 
1 
Workshop theme 
The theme of the 5th EAAE Workshop, Conservation/Adaptation, captures one of the 
most critical questions in addressing the legacy of inherited buildings and sites of cultural 
importance. Over time, protection of the architectural heritage has become recognised as 
a cultural imperative, supported by international conventions and deepening scholarship. 
The adaptation of such heritage for contemporary uses is one of the major issues in sus - 
tainable development of the built environment, and it has long been recognised that the 
continuing appropriate use of historic buildings is one of the best ways of ensuring their 
survival. In this context, the concept of ‘adaptive reuse’ has emerged. 
Adaptive reuse can be described as ‘the process of wholeheartedly altering a building 
by which the function is the most obvious change, but other alterations may be made to 
the building itself, such as the circulation route, the orientation, the relationship between 
spaces; additions may be built and other areas may be demolished’ 1 . In context, besides 
retaining the material values of buildings or sites, an important aspect of reuse is the pres - 
ervation of immaterial significance. This is particularly important in the case of symbolic 
buildings or sites where the spirit of the place is important, such as those with social, po - 
litical, commemorative or religious meaning, or those with a negative or ‘infected’ history. 
The workshop addressed some difficult questions: how to combine the reanimation of 
such a building or site with the transmission of its material and immaterial values? What 
are the limits and opportunities in the adaptive reuse of this type of ‘sensitive’ heritage? 
How is the genius loci – the spirit of place – to be preserved? 
These issues in the adaptive reuse of historic buildings that embody special meanings 
were addressed under three headings: 
Social meaning 
Europe is experiencing fundamental socio-economic changes, a shift from an industrial 
society (product oriented) towards a knowledge-based society (service oriented). This has 
an important impact on built environments and landscapes. What is the future for the 
relicts of this industrial past that are strongly imbued with social meaning and collective 
memory, but that sometimes have limited architectural value? 
Religious/sacred meaning 
Religious buildings form a rich part of our European cultural heritage, with not only im - 
portant historical and architectural value, but also an important symbolic value. Over re - 
cent decades, however, in different European countries this particular type of heritage has 
faced major challenges: in some countries, a marked decrease in religious practice com - 
bined with a general economic decline has caused the abandonment of many churches, 
INTRODUCTION 
Bie Plevoets and Daniela N. Prina 
Hasselt University, Belgium; Université de Liège, Belgium 
bie.plevoets@uhasselt.be; dprina@ulg.ac.be 

Bie Plevoets and Daniela N. Prina 
2 
chapels, convents and monasteries. Together with presbyteries and other types of service 
buildings, they tend to be privatised. What future do these buildings have? How far can 
we go in reanimating these sites? Do the new functions need to incorporate the ‘sacral 
atmosphere’ of the building? Or can we approach these buildings as ‘empty shells’ and 
convert them into concert halls, libraries, hotels or supermarkets? 
Commemorative/political meaning 
Whether intentionally or unintentionally, some buildings or sites carry a particular politi - 
cal message, or the memory of an historic event - sometimes tragic, sometimes positive. 
Is it appropriate to reuse such buildings or sites? How far can we go to exploit them, and 
make the memory more accessible for the public (musealisation versus Disneyfication)? 
Can we afford to simply conserve them? How are we to prevent them from being ideo - 
logically misused? 
Participants were invited to submit abstracts addressing one or several of these as - 
pects, related to case studies of conservation and/or adaptive reuse of architectural her - 
itage that embodies special meaning. 
Case study sites 
To steer discussion among participants, local case studies and reference projects were 
presented by the organising team and visited during the workshop. 
Industrial sites in Genk 
In the early 20th century the city of Genk rapidly became industrialised, mainly through the 
mining industry. After the closure of the mines in the 1980s the city was confronted with 
widespread unemployment, and also with the question of how to deal with the built relicts of 
the mining industry, and with its surrounding landscape, also strongly shaped by this industry. 
New industries were attracted to Genk in order to create jobs and give a new dynamic to the 
city and in the last decade, several former mining sites were rehabilitated into commercial, 
social, cultural and educational facilities. However, the recent closure of the Ford automobile 
factory, the largest employer in the region, has created a new crisis for the city. Again the 
question has arisen as to how to deal with the desolate industrial site, which has limited ar - 
chitectural value but is nevertheless important for the collective memory of this city. 
C-Mine 
The workshop participants visited C-Mine, the former mine of Winterslag, which closed 
in 1986. In the late 1990s Genk started the redevelopment of this site into a creative hub, 
organised around four key aspects: education, creative economy, recreation and artistic 
creation. It now houses various functions, including a school of art and design, an incu - 
bator for young entrepreneurs, a cinema, a cultural centre, an art gallery and a museum. 
Various architects have worked on the different buildings at the site; some of these are 
adapted industrial buildings, while others are new constructions but respecting the origi - 
nal layout of the site. C-Mine, an enormous labyrinth of gray steel construction designed 
by the artist studio Gijs Van Vaerenbergh, was positioned on the central square. The laby - 
rinthine structure creates unique views of the site and its different buildings. 

Introduction 
3 
The most prominent and best preserved historical building is the Energy Building, 
transformed into a cultural centre by 51N4E (Fig. 1). A large steel volume marks the en - 
trance at the front falding, transformed into a cultural centre by 51N4E. The turbine halls 
and machine rooms are preserved, along with much of their machinery and patina, and 
serve as foyer, exhibition space, event location, etc. At each side of the central turbine 
hall, a new construction with auditoria is added. Rooftop spaces serve as terraces in be - 
tween the existing building and auditoria. 
The Sainte-Croix Collegiate Church (Liège) 
Liège Sainte-Croix Collegiate Church is listed as ‘exceptional heritage’ in the Walloon re - 
gion due to its historical and architectural importance (Fig. 2). 
It was founded in 978 or 979 by Notker, the first Prince Bishop of the Bishopric of Liège 
was whose ambition was to make of the Episcopal City one of the most renowned centres 
of the Holy Roman Empire. Sainte-Croix was one of seven collegiate churches built in 
the city between the 10th and the 11th centuries, its impressive octagonal tower aimed 
at establishing a symbolic bond between collegiate churches, thus defining the religious 
topography of the city. It is still an important urban landmark. 
Fig. 1. The interior of the Energy building at C-Mine, now a cultural centre (photo by L. Kealy). 
Fig. 2. The Sainte-Croix Collegiate Church, Liège (drawing by G. Michel ). 

Bie Plevoets and Daniela N. Prina 
4 
The present building, erected between the 13th and the 14th centuries on the foun - 
dations of the original church, is an example of the Gothic influence in the eastern 
part of the Holy Roman Empire and retains an exceptional architectural significance. 
Characterised by its two opposed apses, an eastern choir inspired by the Sainte-Chapelle 
in Paris, and, uncommonly for the Mosan region, a three-aisle nave, the building is 
highly relevant to studies exploring the influence of the relics of the Passion (which 
were preserved in Sainte-Croix) on the design of a medieval church, as well as for its 
neo-Gothic external and internal features, both the result of important restorations 
conducted in the 19th century. 
The fate of Sainte-Croix was, however, dramatically altered by the urban changes that 
occurred in the 19th and 20th centuries. Formerly situated at the edge of the historic 
centre of Liège on the eastern side of a natural promontory (the Publémont hill), Sainte- 
Croix was surrounded by the Sauvenière, a tributary of the Meuse river, and the Lègia 
stream, which flowed into the Meuse close to Saint Lambert Square. Both rivers were 
diverted and covered in the 19th century and are no longer visible today. Additionally, 
in the 1960s the urban area on the northern side of the church was torn down to make 
room for a speedway connecting the city centre with the highway. As a consequence, 
Sainte-Croix was deprived of a crucial portion of its built surroundings and its parish, and 
went through a slow process of abandonment and structural deterioration that eventually 
led to the church’s closure and to its insertion in the World Monument Fund 2013–2015 
‘watch list’ of endangered monuments. In recent years, campaigns for the preservation of 
the collegiate church of Sainte-Croix and for its restoration have been conducted by sev - 
eral associations. In February 2017, the Walloon regional government announced a €15 
million, 10-year restoration project aimed at transforming the building into an ecumenical 
place of worship and cultural centre. 
The Interallied Monument in Liège 
Characterised by a double identity as both a civilian and religious site, the Interallied 
Monument originated from two joined initiatives launched respectively by the 
International Federation of Veterans of the Allied countries to celebrate the bravery of 
the soldiers who fought in the First World War, and by the Catholic segments of Liège 
society, who wanted to build a monument dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, in 
the aftermath of the First World War. It was during a congress in Paris in 1923 that the 
International Federation of Veterans determined on the creation of a monument which 
was financed by public subscription from the Allied countries, aimed at honouring their 
soldiers. Two years later, in Rome, the Federation chose Liège as the monument’s ide - 
al location, as it was the first city to be impacted by the First World War. When the 
Federation discovered that a private association had also opened a subscription to cre - 
ate a pilgrimage church in Liège, the two plans were merged, and a competition for the 
construction of their joint project was launched. The Interallied Monument and the 
Church of Our Lady of Lourdes and the Sacred Heart of Jesus were thus two comple - 
mentary parts of an international symbolic project recognising the key role of Liège in 
the First World War. 
The architectural competition was won by Flemish architect Jos Smolderen. Composed 
of a memorial tower, an open-air esplanade and a pilgrimage church situated in the Liège 
suburb of Cointe, on a hill above the Guillemins Station, the complex’s construction had 

Introduction 
5 
a long gestation, mainly due to a lack of funding and the outbreak of the Second World 
War. It was therefore built in phases between 1923 and 1968 in a geometrical Art Deco 
style. It is adorned by a great number of sculpted monuments offered by former Allied 
countries (Fig. 3). 
Although the monument’s crypt and esplanade still regularly host commemorative 
ceremonies (for instance, the European commemoration of the First World War in 2014) 
and welcomes new monuments, the extensively deteriorated church, a listed monument 
since 2011, has been neglected by the parishioners and abandoned. Many possibilities 
for private reuse have been explored, but they have not yet led to any adequate solution. 
Besides its obvious architectural, symbolic and artistic values, the site, built on a hill 
overlooking Calatrava’s Guillemins Station with tremendous views over the city, remains a 
key element of the city landscape. 
The Military Fort of Loncin 
Built between 1888 and 1892 according to the plans of General Henri Alexis Brialmont, 
the military Fort of Loncin is one of twelve forts built in a ring around Liège as part of 
its fortified belt towards the end of the 19th century. The triangular fort, surrounded 
by a deep ditch and semi-submerged in the landscape, has a dual cultural relevance. It 
is an important element of built heritage. It is also a burial ground as a result of mas - 
sive bombardment from the 12th to the 15th of August 1914. The fort had been built 
Fig. 3. The Interallied Monument and Church, Liège (photo by S.F. Musso). 

Bie Plevoets and Daniela N. Prina 
6 
to a particular design and using an experimental building technique of non-reinforced 
concrete rather than masonry. This played an unexpected role in its destruction and 
transformed the ruins of its powder magazine into a permanent sarcophagus protecting 
the corpses of the 350 soldiers who were killed by an explosion. The weakness of the 
structure made the ammunition storage – it contained twelve tons of explosive – vul - 
nerable to the impact of large-calibre shells. The wreckage became first a war grave 
and then a remembrance site. Although the majority of the bodies could not be moved 
after the explosion, some remains were buried in a crypt placed at the western tip of 
the triangle forming the site. In the aftermath of the war, the sentiment of respect in 
Belgium for the fort’s victims resulted in the erection on the site of a number of monu - 
ments honouring their memory. Besides its commemorative value, the natural location 
and the partially wrecked concrete structures confer on the site a broader and powerful 
landscape significance (Fig. 4). 
The Military Fort of Loncin was listed in 2004 and its site now includes a museum. 
Although the Fort is especially popular for its symbolic role, the motivations for its 
listing also included its historical interest as a major element in the Belgian fortifica - 
tion of its time as well as its importance in the events of August 1914. Furthermore, 
the Fort of Loncin was listed for its scientific value (it still contains original weapons 
and equipment) and for its landscape importance as a privileged site for biodiversity 
development. 
Fig. 4. The destroyed Fort de Loncin: its wreckage 
is a sarcophagus and a site of commemoration 
(photo by D. Prina). 
Next page: 
Fig. 5. The former prison of Hasselt now houses 
the faculty of Law of Hasselt University (UHasselt), 
the octagon seen from a courtyard (photo by P. 
Vorlik). 

Introduction 
7 
Former prison of Hasselt 
The Faculty of Law of Hasselt University (UHasselt) is located in a former prison, built in 
1859 on the panopticon model and used as a prison until 2005 (Fig. 5). The buildings of 
the university were initially located at the outskirts of the city, but it wished to move clos - 
er to the city centre. The only available site in this rather small city was the former prison. 
UHasselt, which prides itself on being an open and approachable institution, did not at 
first want to preserve the existing building’s characteristics, as these features seemed the 
exact opposite of the university’s vision of a centre city campus. Hence the redesign was 
opened to an architectural competition, won by noAarchitecten. The architects’ concept 
saw the prison as an enclave within the city. Thus, instead of being a symbol of confine - 
ment, the walls were to serve as a symbol of prestige attaching to the community of the 
students and staff of UHasselt. 
The original prison wall was preserved in its entirety, and no changes were made to the 
front facade. The side entrance doors were replaced by fence gates to allow views of the 
green courtyards behind the wall. The basic structure of the interior and the characteris - 
tics of the typology were retained. The centre space of the panopticon served as the main 
entrance hall, which was made more monumental with the addition of a new staircase 
and terrazzo flooring. The former cells were kept, serving the new function of individual 
study cells for students. To fit the large programme within the existing building, the trian - 
gular courtyards between the different wings were partly filled with two auditoria and a 

Bie Plevoets and Daniela N. Prina 
8 
Notes and references 
1 Brooker, G., Stone, S., 2004. Re-readings: Interior 
architecture and the design principles of remodelling 
existing buildings. London. 
cafeteria. The original corridors running along the side of each wing were enlarged to give 
access to these new spaces. In the original prison building, daylight could barely enter the 
building interior, owing to the extremely small windows. Throughout the transformation, 
daylight was brought into the building through the roof, where old and new parts of the 
building were connected. A number of the green roofs were made accessible; the prison 
and the city may be viewed from there. 
In addition to these buildings and sites, participants also visited three buildings in 
Maastricht which had religious uses in the past: the Minorite Monastery, now an archive; a 
13th-century former Dominican church, which is now known as the Selexyz Dominicanen 
bookstore ; and the 15th-century former Crutched Friars monastery and church, which has 
been converted into a 5-star and 60-room hotel (Kruisherenhotel). These buildings were 
to prove a significant element of several papers. 

Essays 

New lives for deconsecrated churches. Symbolic values and the identity of places 
11 
There are many reasons why a religious building loses its sacred character. New political 
and social developments, abandonment of previous religious practices in favour of others, 
economic necessity, a reduction in the number of people in the local communities: these 
are just some of the possible reasons why it is decided to deconsecrate a church and turn it 
into a secular building. The means by which new life can be injected into buildings conceived 
and built to be sacred places is simple. In the case of Catholic churches, there are several 
reasons why a church may be deconsecrated, such as changes in parish structures or the 
population in the area, damage to the structure rendering impossible to use or simply that 
it is no longer practical to use it (Montini 2000) and they are ruled by Canon law, in particular 
Can 1211, Can 1212, Can 1222 (§ 1 e § 2). The key question is whether this gesture is enough 
to efface the complexity of the meanings embodied in a church at different scales and levels, 
transforming it into a simple container in which a new use can be installed. 
Very often the way these places are in fact reused does not have a close relationship with 
the ‘container’ – that is, with the material nature of the building – but is the result of other 
kinds of logic (commercial, economic, occasional, spatial and architectural) which partially 
interpret the tangible and intangible components of the built heritage. The cases are many 
and varied. The solutions that can be observed range from unplanned interventions to highly 
sophisticated operations. One of many possible examples of this process is the Dominican 
church in Maastricht in the Netherlands (Hovens et al. 2006) which since 1796, the year when 
it was reassigned to military use, has served widely varied functions, alternating with periods 
of abandonment: storage room for Maastricht town council, headquarters of the Municipal 
Orchestra, art gallery, flower display (Fig. 1), parties (Fig. 2), boxing arena, car shows, storage 
facility for bicycles and finally a bookstore 1 (Figs. 3-4). The current solution is the result of 
a complex design process whose outcome focuses on a specific item – a multi-level, steel, 
black, walk-in bookcase situated asymmetrically in the church – to which is entrusted the 
value of the solution found (Weelen 2014: 25–27). The basic idea is that the customers of the 
bookshop, while browsing the books on sale, can ‘experience the colossal dimensions of the 
church and view the historical murals from close-by’ 2 . The question that underlies the opera - 
tion, which needs to be argued in depth, is whether the refined design of the furnishings and 
the use of the space, avowedly designed to be reversible, are sufficient to preserve the spirit 
of the place and safeguard the tangible and intangible heritage (ICOMOS 2008). 
Multi-layered palimpsests and the loss of identity of places. Italy vs the Netherlands 
The phenomenon taking place in Maastricht, where other former places of worship have 
been manipulated and reused – the Franciscan monastery that now houses the reading 
room of an archive centre and library 3 and the former Monastery of the Friars of the Holy 
Cross, which today is the lobby, bar and restaurant of a hotel 4 – is not an isolated case tied 
NEW LIVES FOR DECONSECRATED CHURCHES. SYMBOLIC VALUES 
AND THE IDENTITY OF PLACES 
Francesca Albani 
Politecnico di Milano, Italy 
francesca.albani@polimi.it 

Francesca Albani 
12 
FIG. 1. Dominican church in Maastricht. Flower exhibi - 
tion, 1899-1903 (Hovens et al. 2006: 142). 
FIG. 2. Parties and meeting in Dominican church, 1912 
(Hovens et al. 2006: 144). 
FIG. 3. Steel bookcase of Selexyz Dominicanen book - 
store during construction (Hovens et al. 2006: 242). 
Next page: 
FIG. 4. First and second level of the steel bookcases 
(photo by F. Albani, 2015). 
FIG. 5. Madonna della Neve church at Portichetto 
(Como) converted into mechanical workshop (© An - 
drea Di Martino). 
to a specific cultural context, but is broad and widespread. In a country like Italy, whose 
culture has been deeply influenced by the Catholic religion, it might be thought that the 
issue of the deconsecration of places of worship would be limited and the phenomenon 
would be dealt with differently. It might be supposed that the authorities, the offices 
responsible for conservation, historians, art historians, designers and local communities 
together – catholics and laity – would concentrate and devote their energies to devising 
strategies to identify a new use for a cultural heritage that is part of their identify. In reality, 
growing numbers of churches are being deconsecrated (Marzano 2012), as is the practice 
that sees these ‘containers’ adapted arbitrarily to functions in which the old structures – 
walls, vaults, frescoes, plaster – remain in the background, forming the setting for a new 
life that no longer has any ties with that of the past. In the place of the altar, the ambo 
and the candles, there appear tables, car hoists, the counters of bars or theatrical stages. 
A glimpse of this reality can be seen in the work The Mass is Ended by the photographer 
Andrea Di Martino, winner of the Amilcare Ponchielli Prize in 2010 and the Fotonoviembre 
2015 ‘Authors in Selection’, revived and expanded for a recent exhibition in Basel 5 
(Di Martino 2016). It is a collection of images of deconsecrated churches that have found a 
new future 6 . ‘Research soon led me to discover a much larger world than I expected. From 
north to south the former churches, sometimes refurbished, sometimes just kept standing, 
told me stories of a variegated Italy: refined and superficial, fashionable and popular, out - 

New lives for deconsecrated churches. Symbolic values and the identity of places 
13 
rageous and believing, but in the end surprisingly mixed’, 
told Andrea Di Martino in an interview in 2016. These 
buildings, previously symbols not only of the ‘sacred’, but 
also places in which communities and cultures identified 
themselves and which often acted as poles capable of in - 
fluencing urban development, have become branches of 
banks, warehouses, pizzerias, weaving workshops, gyms 
and classrooms for municipal councils. A photo that will 
surely not leave viewers indifferent shows the church of 
the Madonna della Neve at Portichetto near Como, closed 
for worship since 1959, and since 1966 converted into a 
mechanical workshop (Fig. 5). The situation is certainly ex - 
treme, but not particularly rare. 
However, the phenomenon does not affect only small 
towns afflicted by more or less pronounced forms of de - 
population. In densely populated Milan, there are also 
churches converted and reused in various ways. They 
range from the most complex situations and careful - 
ly pondered cases, such as that of the church of Santa 
Teresa in Via della Moscova, which after a period of ne - 
glect was reopened in 2003 as a media centre, an inter - 
active multimedia library of the Biblioteca Braidense, to 
that of the former church of SS. Simon and Giuda in Via 
Correnti, deconsecrated in the Napoleonic period and 
turned into a theatre known since 1976 as the Teatro 
Arsenale. Other examples are: the church of San Paolo 
Converso or alle Monache in Corso Italia on the corner 
of Via S. Eufemia, converted by a private foundation 
into a hall for cultural events; the Oratorio SS. Filippo 
and Donato at Molinazzo, turned into private offices 
(Scaraffia 2010); and the most extreme examples of the 
nightclubs called ‘La Chiesetta’ in Lomazzo Street and ‘Il 
Gattopardo’ in Piero della Francesca Street 7 (Fig. 6). 
Each of these places has endured various vicissitudes that have affected their current 
states. But the factor they have in common is the loss, in different degrees and proportions, 
of those values and historical, cultural, social and symbolic meanings that characterise the 
tangible and intangible heritage of religious buildings, transforming them in ways that are 
more refined or coarser – sometimes with traces of vulgarity – into new places that no longer 
have any link with the density and multiplicity of meanings which they embodied in the past. 
The illusion of reversibility 
Justifying every change, even the most bizarre, with the argument of its reversibility ap - 
pears a widespread and common practice. In fact it is widely known and firmly established 
that ‘reversibility’ is inconceivable (Petzet 1995), since the actions that have taken place 
and that have altered the tangible – but also the intangible – reality of a place cannot be 
effaced (Oddy 1999). 

Francesca Albani 
14 
‘Reversibility’ is not a lexical problem related to specialist debates (Biscontin, Driussi 
2003). It is a way of conceiving the project that deals with existing situations, the conse - 
quences of which can be read in many of the examples given. Even when the emblem of 
reversibility is trumpeted and emphasised, if one looks closely and enters into the merits 
of the choices and the architectural details, the alterations are very often highly invasive 
and far from ‘minimal’. 
It can be assumed that the pretext of reversibility entails a danger of losing the aware - 
ness that no action is truly reversible and this leads – perhaps unconsciously – the project 
to be conceived as ‘provisional’ and/or ‘precarious’ (Trivella 2002). Hence there is a lack 
of reflection conducted with a due sense of responsibility for the future, which should 
underlie the identification of new uses and changes. And even if, in physical terms, a con - 
version project is actually respectful (and this is hardly ever the case) it would never be 
possible to reverse the use, the memory, the significance that this alteration has had in 
cultural, social, economic and historical terms. 
The question, however, is more complex than it might seem, because the new use of 
these former religious buildings – parish churches, shrines, monastic churches, oratories, 
chapels – has repercussions not only on the architectural scale, but also on the urban 
level. These architectural forms have usually played a central role in the evolution of set - 
tlements; the changes in the uses of the buildings and the perception of them by local 
communities mean in most cases altering the equilibrium, the significance and the way of 
life in portions of the city, and sometimes even of the city itself. 
It goes without saying, therefore, that to guarantee a future for this multi-layered cul - 
tural heritage rich in symbolic values, one of the objectives should surely be to define a 
FIG. 6. Night club “Il Gattopardo” in San Giuseppe della Pace church in Milan (© Andrea Di Martino). 
FIG. 7. San Quirico and Giulitta church in Azzanello, Cremona, Italy (photo by F. Albani, 2009). 
Next page: 
FIG. 8. Exhibition of rural life in San Quirico and Giulitta church (2011). 

New lives for deconsecrated churches. Symbolic values and the identity of places 
15 
conversion project which seeks to avoid being invasive – and even perhaps with some small 
temporary aspects! But above all, the project must be openly based on an awareness of the 
importance it will have on different levels and from a number of points of view, not only in 
the present, but in the future, since the act of design will inevitably foster a process that will 
unfold in time, leading to unpredictable and uncontrolled interpretations and uses. 
Conclusion: the need for a broad participatory process 
How to combine the needs related to new uses of these buildings with the transmission of 
their tangible and intangible values is the central question in this paper. Religious buildings 
clearly form a rich part of our cultural heritage, not only with important historical and archi - 
tectural values, but also an important symbolic value. These buildings are affected by com - 
plex events that have undergone transformations, expansions and changes, whose mean - 
ings are embodied in the stratification of their historic structures. As shown by many of the 
examples given, the simple timely conservation of these historic structures, with the new 
uses being installed in them as if in a box, is insufficient. The considerations underlying the 
design have to be moved onto a different plane. In identifying a form of intervention that is 
not highly invasive, it is important to involve different skills and subjects, including contribu - 
tions from the authorities, experts and scholars active in the cultural heritage and the local 
authority, but above all, local communities with their various members. 
One such case is the church of San Quirico and Giulitta at Azzanello (Fig. 7), a small 
farming village in the province of Cremona in the Po Valley in northern Italy (Aporti 1837; 
Prati 2006). The church, dating from the 16th century, stands on a morphological terrace 
of the River Oglio and on the main road of the village, a medieval road that once linked 
Cremona to Bergamo. Originally maintained by the confraternity of the Disciplinati, its rich 
ornamentation comprises frescoes, wall paintings and stucco decorations. After it was de - 
consecrated, despite being a listed heritage building, in the 1980s it was used as a workshop 
for car repairs. Bathrooms were installed in the plinth of the bell tower, the walls were cut 
open to install machinery and a number of windows were opened in the chapels. From the 
early 1990s to 2009, it lay in a state of profound degradation, in part because of abandon - 
ment and lack of maintenance, but mostly because of thoughtless and chaotic alterations 
and additions. In 2011, about a decade after its acquisition by the municipality, followed 
by restoration work, a permanent exhibition was inaugurated within it devoted to rural life 
in the Po Valley (Fig. 8). The church, an important urban landmark in relation to the de - 
velopment of the town, continues in this way to be 
a symbol – no longer religious, but social – for the 
local community, linked to tradition and to the ‘vo - 
cation’ of the village. The exhibition tells of the daily 
lives of people who perceived this church as a place 
of gathering and prayer. This solution, interesting 
above all for the process by which it was discovered, 
is the result of a complex procedure that involved 
the Cultural Heritage Office, the region, the prov - 
ince, the city, the university 8 , professional training 
schools, scholars and local professionals 9 , and above 
all the community of Azzanello. It is a project per - 
ceived as a stratification, characterised by a certain 

Francesca Albani 
16 
degree of reversibility, which is configured as yet another stage in the life of the place and 
which interprets many of the relevant symbolic, historical, artistic and cultural factors. In this 
case, the process that accompanied the decisions relating to the conservation and reuse of a 
complex place charged with significance, a deconsecrated religious building, was broad and 
shared. This resulted in each of the actors in the process becoming aware that they were 
only temporary custodians of this cultural heritage, in which the contingent needs of the 
present have not prevailed or effaced the record of the past. 
Notes 
1 The design of the Selexyz Dominicanen book - 
store was coordinated by the Satijnplus Architecten 
office, while the design of the interior and the en - 
trance portal is by Merkx+Girod. The bookstore was 
opened in 2006, but the restoration work was com - 
pleted in 2011. See SATJNplus Architekten . [online]. 
Satjnplus. Available at: < http://www.satijnplus.nl >; 
Merkx+Girod . [online]. Merkx&Girod. Available at: 
<http://merkx-girod.nl/> [Accessed 26 June 2017]. 
2 Selexys Dominicanen Maastricht . [online]. Merkx - 
&Girod. Available at: <http://merkx-girod.nl/en/ 
projects/retail/shops/selexyz-bookstore/dominica - 
nen-maastricht> [Accessed 26 June 2017]. 
3 Today the church is used by the Regionaal Histor - 
isch Centrum Limburg. 
4 The design of the Kruisherenhotel of the Chateau 
Hotels & Restaurant chain is by Satijnplus Architects 
together with the Groningen-based interior design - 
ers Henk Vos and Ingo Maurer. 
5 The mass is ended is the catalogue of the exhibi - 
tion held in Basel in the Church of Don Bosco from 
15.1.2016 to 5.3.2016. 
6 Andrea Di Martino presents a collection of 70 im - 
ages – one for each church – in square format with 
the same point of view and perspective. 
7 In Milan, the San Giuseppe della Pace Church, 
built in 1930, was deconsecrated in the 1970s. In 
2001 it was transformed into a disco bar named ‘Il 
Gattopardo’. 
8 For two consecutive years the students of the 
Laboratory of ‘Historical Building Preservation Stu - 
dio’ of the Politecnico di Milano, School of Archi - 
tecture, academic years 2008/2009 and 2009/2010 
(Proff. Francesca Albani and Anna Ferrugiari), 
studied and advanced design conjectures on the 
Church of SS. Quirico and Giulitta. The presence of 
the students, teaching exhibitions, conferences and 
debates triggered a process that has stimulated the 
interest of the local community. I especially wish to 
thank the then deputy mayor Carlo Dusi, and Elena 
Manzoni. 
9 The School of Restoration ‘Cr Forma’ in Cremona 
conducted a campaign of diagnostic inquiry in 2007 
(stratigraphic analyses and description of the mate - 
rials) in collaboration with the local administration. 
References 
Aporti, F., 1837. Memorie di storia ecclesiastica cre - 
monese , II. Cremona. 
Biscontin, G., Driussi, G. (eds.), 2003. La reversibilità 
nel restauro. Riflessioni, esperienze, percorsi di 
ricerca . Venice. 
Di Martino, A., 2016. The mass is ended . Basel. 
Hovens, F. et al., 2006. Domenicanen. Geschiedenis 
van kerk en klooster in Maastricht . Maastricht. 
ICOMOS, 2008. Québec Declaration on the Preser - 
vation of the Spirit of Place . Québec. [online]. 
Icomos. Available at: <http://www.icomos.org/ 
quebec2008/quebec_declaration/pdf/GA16_ 
Quebec_Declaration_Final_EN.pdf> [Accessed 
21 June 2017]. 
Marzano, M., 2012. Quel che resta dei cattolici: in - 
chiesta sulla crisi della Chiesa in Italia . Milano. 
Montini, G.P., 2000. “La cessazione degli edifici di cul - 
to”, in Quaderni di diritto ecclesiale , 13. 281–299. 
Oddy, A., 1999. Reversibility. Does it Exist? . London. 
Petzet, M., 1995. “Reversibility as Principle of Modern 
Preservation”, in Restauro , 131/132. 868–867. 
Prati, C. 2006. Chiesetta dei SS. Quirico e Giulitta (ex) – 
complesso . [online]. Regione Lombardia. Availa - 
ble at: <http://www.lombardiabeniculturali.it/ 
architetture/schede/CR180-00005/?view=ricer - 
ca&offset=1> [Accessed 26 June 2017]. 
Scaraffia, G., 2010. “Quasi quasi mi compro la chie - 
sa”, in Io donna , 11-17 September. 
Trivella, F. (ed.), 2002. Reversibilità? Concezioni e in - 
terpretazioni nel restauro . Turin. 
Weelen, P., 2014. Boekhandel Dominicanen. The most 
beautiful bookshop in the world . Maastricht. 

17 
Building and urban space 
BUILDING AND URBAN SPACE: THE CAPABILITY OF THIS SYMBIOSIS 
OR DIALOGUE TO KEEP THE ‘SPIRIT’ OF A PLACE ALIVE 
Simonetta Ciranna 
Università degli Studi dell’Aquila, Italy 
simonetta.ciranna@univaq.it 
This theoretical reflection will be on the intimate connection between a building and the 
urban space where it stands and, more specifically, on the capability of this symbiosis or 
dialogue to identify and keep alive the ‘spirit’ of a place in recurring reuse and re-adap - 
tion. The latter involves both the building (structure, plan, spatial layout, use, architectural 
qualities, etc.) and its setting or location (relationship to a road, square, surroundings, 
etc.). 
Some important Italian examples are cited, geographically and historically diverse, 
which underline the importance of that ‘reciprocity’: they are used as paradigms to com - 
pare with the cases of Genk and Liège, which were the objects of debate in this workshop. 
Two specific Italian examples are taken to represent the extremes to which this reflection 
refers. 
The first points out the capability of ‘regeneration’ of a building and its urban context 
in their mutual adaptation. This is Hadrian’s Temple (2nd century ad ) in Rome, now seat 
of the Chamber of Commerce, and its relationship with the present Piazza di Pietra, where 
the original eleven columns belonging to the north side of the Roman building still exist 1 . 
During the 17th century, the temple ruins became the Customs Palace and part of the 
north side was reused as the main front, opening onto the square (Fig. 1). Another im - 
portant transformation occurred after the unification of Italy, when the building became 
the seat of Rome’s stock exchange, until the recent adaptation of the main hall (originally 
the cell of the temple) as a ‘political space’ and of the square as a pedestrian tourist at - 
traction. 
The second case concerns the ‘transfer’ of a symbolic place. It involves the loss of the 
older place and the reinvention of a newer one which is still not fully established. The case 
refers to the church and the square, which from medieval times represented the heart of 
the urban centre of Avezzano (L’Aquila, Italy) until it was destroyed in a disastrous earth - 
quake in 1915 (Fig. 2). Subsequently the decision was taken for the complete removal of 
the entire ancient centre, cancelling out the original religious and civic nucleus and identi - 
fying a new symbolic centre in the area of contemporary urban expansion. This new urban 
centre is still searching for its identity 2 . 
These two examples represent the antipodes of the capability of humankind and of 
history to reinvent or delete the topoi of a town – the synthesis of significant architecture 
bound physically and ‘sensorially’ to the surroundings. 
Within these theoretical extremes and related remarks it is intended to present some 
reflections in relation to the sites visited and which were the focus of discussion during 
the workshop – Sainte-Croix Church, the Inter-Allied Monument, the Fort of Loncin at 
Liège, converted churches at Maastricht, the C-Mine site at Genk and the Law Faculty 
of Hasselt University. The architecture of these is significant in relation to the meeting’s 

Simonetta Ciranna 
18 
FIG . 1. View of the Hadrianeum (formerly the Customs House) in the Piazza di Pietra (etching by Giovan Battista 
Piranesi, 1760-78). 
FIG . 2. Ruins of church S. Bartolomeo in Avezzano after the earthquake of 1915. 

Building and urban space 
19 
theme, Conservation/Adaptation: keeping alive the spirit of the place; adaptive reuse of 
heritage with ‘symbolic value’ . 
These complexes, whether of recent and more or less extensive transformation (the 
C-Mine site, the converted churches and the Law Faculty), or in partial disuse (Sainte-Croix 
Church, the Fort of Loncin and the Inter-Allied Monument), are strongly characterised by a 
close relationship between several factors: original destination of use and symbolic value 
(religious, civil, historical, politico-social); notable scale and typo-morphological specific - 
ity (church, monument, fort, factory); architectural distinction and connection with the 
neighbourhood, town and countryside. 
The specific architectural resilience of these buildings, evident in their singularity, 
contrasts, however, with the fact that today they are seen and valued as ‘foreign’ in the 
ever-changing cultural and environmental context; a quality that denies both their contex - 
tual value and their individual worth. 
In this regard, certain observations arose during the workshop concerning the rela - 
tionship between the interior and exterior, the building and surrounding space: a relation - 
ship comprising factors such as the contrasting scale of the building and of its surrounding 
context, the capability of the building and its layers to communicate not only the essence 
of the location, but also its social value in terms of community memory and cultural back - 
ground – so creating the possibility of generating a process of integration and a sense of 
belonging; offering the community a new space to occupy whilst remembering their own 
roots and facilitating the creation of new memories. 
With respect to these reflections, a sort of generational clash has occurred regarding 
design hypotheses, involving a re-run of the timeless dispute between ‘conservatives’ and 
‘innovators’. This confrontation has been reiterated many times in history, particularly in 
Italy, sometimes generating attitudes and technical indications of compromise or easy 
consensus. This has occurred mainly but not exclusively following catastrophic events (in 
Italy, the recent earthquakes in Umbria, Abruzzo and Emilia), with solutions endorsed by 
collective emotionalism and carrying the risk of ‘façade architecture’, especially in the 
rebuilding of the long-established ‘minor’ centres such as the legendary village of Prince 
Grigorij Aleksandrovič Potëmkin (1739–91). 
However, the recomposition of spaces whose values go beyond the figurative is a com - 
plex matter: it is difficult to restore bonds of contiguity that have been disrupted, and to 
counteract fragmentation, creating a new dialogue between elements and their urban, 
territorial or landscape contexts. 
The C-Mine site at Genk, the Sainte-Croix Church and the Inter-Allied Monument, 
(both at Liège), although very different from one another, testify to the importance of 
this relationship in order to keep alive the spirit of the place. The first advocates the need 
to re-join its disiecta membra , scattered across a very large area; membra that have ir - 
reversibly lost the logical continuity of an industrial process (Fig. 3). The second requires 
spatial and symbolic unity both in internal space ( Hallenkirchen with opposing apses) and 
in the strong relationship with the neighbourhood – the roads of Saint-Pierre and Haute- 
Sauvenière and the part of town that it dominates from the hilltop (Fig. 4). The third 
vigorously declares the historical, figurative and landscape quality of its architecture, and 
the symbolic value that it represents uniting a religious monument and a civil memorial 
planned to commemorate the fallen in defence of Liège and the neutrality of Belgium 
during World War I 3 . The history of this ensemble, a synthesis of two ‘competing’ initia - 

Simonetta Ciranna 
20 
FIG . 3. C-Mine site at Genk (photo taken during the workshop). 
FIG . 4. Sainte-Croix Church and the town of Liège. 

Building and urban space 
21 
tives (a far from simple project that is also the result of changing alliances in the twenty 
years between the two World Wars), demands consolidation because it expresses the 
worldwide memory of the history of the 20th century, which was the foundation stone for 
the European Union 4 (Fig. 5). 
Rome offers several examples – often unresolved or incomplete – to compare with the 
three selected Belgian sites. The examples are drawn from both the historical centre of 
Rome and also from its original industrial outskirts, which became an integral part of the 
city decades ago. They represent the renovation of architecture, or of parts of the urban 
texture of Rome, in which the critical role of the reconnection of the parts emerges more 
and more. 
Among these, the reconstruction of the Ara Pacis Museum and the integration of 
Augusto’s Mausoleum (still in progress) and the entire Piazza Augusto Imperatore is a 
paradigmatic case. The relationship forms a whole, in which the Ara Pacis constitutes the 
boundary toward the Tiber, the embankment and road, and the Mausoleum forms the 
fulcrum of the square. Although it owes its origins to massive demolition and the opening 
of the archaeological venue at the end of the 1930s, the site emerged as a proposition 
at the beginning of the millennium. A fragmentary and unappreciated space, it had lost 
its earlier vivacity, derived from the popularity of the Mausoleum site (from 1780 to the 
1930s), Corea’s Theatre, the multi-purpose Teatro Umberto I and the auditorium of the 
Academy of St. Cecilia. The new Ara Pacis Museum, commissioned from the famed archi - 
FIG . 5. Interallied Monument at Liège. The status of partial abandonment of the religious monument. 

Simonetta Ciranna 
22 
tect Richard Meier in 1996, generated great controversy both before and after its opening 
in 2006. Without entering into those arguments, it should be emphasised that the project 
was conceived outside the framework of the plan for the entire space, thus amplifying its 
function as a border of the monument and its strong marginality in this context (Fig. 6). 
Subsequently, the renovation of the square was entrusted to the architect Francesco 
Cellini, winner of an international competition in 2006 5 (Fig. 7). The plan, still in progress, 
focuses on accessibility and usability of the archaeological site, considered from the per - 
spective of its being a significant urban space to give back to the community. The ‘hub’ of 
the project coincides with the southern part of the area, between the apse of San Carlo 
al Corso Church and the staircase leading to the entrance of Ara Pacis Museum. At the 
archaeological level, this axis touches and reinstates the Mausoleum, whose restoration 
is assigned to the Capitoline Superintendent 6 . 
Thus the solution interweaves routes and spaces, creating visual and movement flows 
that tie together each monumental element of this special urban palimpsest. 
Similarly, the rearrangement of the archaeological-urban area of the Portico of Octavia 
aims to rehabilitate the ruins as an integral part of the town – an accommodation brought 
about as a result of the archaeological excavations that revealed the base of the propy - 
laea, part of the pavement relevant to the Flaminian Circus and the medieval necropolis 
connected to Sant’Angelo in Pescheria, a church created within the Portico itself 7 (Fig. 8). 
Similarly, in the early 2000s the planners Laura Romagnoli and Guido Batocchioni worked 
FIG . 6. The entrance of new Museum of Ara Pacis in Rome. 

Building and urban space 
23 
on a system of ramps and paths in order to reconfigure the ratio between the old site and 
today’s dynamic urban space 8 (Fig. 9). This solution has once again given accessibility to 
the area inside the propylaea: a permeability that celebrates and does not segregate the 
complex stratigraphy of Rome’s architecture. 
No less intricate, and still under discussion, is the adjustment of the tract of via Giulia at 
the height of the Carceri Nuove. Here the Master Plan of 1931 had provided for the 1939 
demolition that led to the destruction of three city blocks. The demolition of that section 
of residential housing caused a disruption in the rectilinear road, designed by Pope Julius 
II Della Rovere at the beginning of the 16th century and a key element of his Renovatio 
Romae. This gap is formed by a declined plane that, in cutting via Giulia, joins Lungotevere 
dei Tebaldi to the lower via dei Banchi Vecchi (Fig. 10). The engineer Marcello Rebecchini 
began a project in the 1990s, realised in 2000, for part of this area – the block between 
via della Moretta and vicolo Malpasso 9 . A partial recomposition of a single building block 
also includes the church of San Filippo Neri (San Filippino). However, the resolution of the 
entire area still remains open, namely the restoration of buildings in front of via Giulia and 
the renovation of the riverfront. 
The solution was complicated by the decision in 2008 to provide a three-storey un - 
derground parking area in the block between via Giulia and Largo Perosi. In 2011, archae - 
ological investigations brought to light important Roman remains, in part attributable to 
the stalls of the racing teams ( factiones ) of the Aurighi that ran in the Circo Massimo 
FIG . 7. Piazza Augusto Imperatore in Rome. The renovation of the square by architect Francesco Cellini, winner 
of an international competition in 2006. 

Simonetta Ciranna 
24 
FIG . 8. Octavia’s Portico and church of Sant’Angelo in Pescheria at Rome. 
FIG . 9. Longitudinal internal sections of Octavia’s Portico before and after the project (Portico d'Ottavia 2000: 57). 

Building and urban space 
25 
FIG . 10. Rome. View of the 
declined plane that, in cut - 
ting via Giulia, joins Lungote - 
vere dei Tebaldi to the lower 
via dei Banchi Vecchi. 
(in the Augustan era). This discovery has further exacerbated controversy between the 
Municipality and the Associations of Residents 10 . 
In February of the same year, the auditorium of the Ara Pacis organised a meeting and 
exposition on the theme ‘The Moretta and via Giulia’. The past and new ideas meet, in - 
volving seven projects developed by Italian and foreign designers invited by the Municipal 
Administration, namely Aldo Aymonino, David Chipperfield, Stefano Cordeschi, Roger 
Diener, Paolo Portoghesi, Franco Purini and Giuseppe Rebecchini. The design of the ate - 
lier Diener & Diener (in partnership with the Roman atelier Garofalo Miura Architects 
and Gunther Vogt, landscape painter of Zurich) was selected from among the projects, 
all of which differed but focused on the role of roads and viewpoints 11 . Diener & Diener’s 
project planned to create a garden above the parking – a green secret place enclosed by a 
wall which, citing the nearby garden of Palazzo Farnese, was intended to restore the street 
alignments (Fig. 11). 
Meanwhile, the parking dealership submitted a completely different project by the 
architect Stefano Cordeschi, a design that (in addition to making the archaeological re - 
mains accessible) contains a museum, an urban centre, a hotel and some dwellings. Today 
the issue is still uncertain, with strong opposition from the organisation representing the 
residents of the historic town. This organisation succeded in stopping the development, 
through a ‘precautionary instance’ from the Consiglio di Stato (Fig. 12). 

Simonetta Ciranna 
26 
FIG . 11. Diener&Diener’s project for the area of via Giulia. 
FIG. 12. A recent image of the situation of the site via Giulia, Lungotevere dei Tebaldi. 

Building and urban space 
27 
The cited examples underline the prob - 
lematic nature of ‘re-welding’ the connective 
tissue of the buildings in the historical strati - 
fied context of Rome. However, this difficul - 
ty has also emerged in the original industrial 
fringe of the city. 
A meaningful example is that of the for - 
mer ‘Mattatoio’ in Testaccio – a structure and 
neighbourhood with a strong historical and 
architectural identity. The industrial plant was 
built to the design of architect Gioacchino 
Ersoch, Director of the Division III (Aedile and 
Architecture) of the Municipality of Rome, 
between the end of the 1880s and the ear - 
ly 1990s 12 . The plant, consisting of rows of 
sheds (built with mixed technology in brick, 
stone, iron and double-pitched roofs), was al - 
ready improved between 1910 and 1920 by 
installing a refrigeration building and shelters along the road. Finally, in 1975 it was de - 
prived of its original function because the activity of animal slaughtering was reallocated 
to the New Meat Centre in the Prenestino area. 
In the 1990s, the municipality decided on the re-adaptation of several pavilions as 
places dedicated to culture, art and interdisciplinary studies, in agreement mainly with 
the Roma Tre University and the Academy of Fine Arts (Figs. 13–14). 
FIGS . 13-14. Rome. The area of ‘Mattatoio’ in Testaccio reused as a cultural place. 

Simonetta Ciranna 
28 
At this time, despite the high quality reuse of many specific pavilions, the lack of a 
cohesive project and the fragmented nature of the ensemble (entrusted to several man - 
agement groups: Città dell’Altra Economia, Accademia di Belle Arti, M.A.C.R.O. La Pelanda, 
Ararat, M.A.C.R.O. Testaccio, Villaggio Globale, etc.) significant critical matters have aris - 
en 13 . A coordinating function capable of linking together all (individually valid) compo - 
nents is missing. In addition, ‘empty’ spaces create a less enjoyable appearance of the 
ensemble as a whole. 
The Roman examples mentioned aim to offer some suggestions for the three selected 
cases of Liège and Genk, stressing the important role of the context – the historical and 
social urban texture – with the intention of maintaining the spirit of place alive in the 
present and also into the future. 
Notes 
1 Ciranna, Altobelli 1987. 
2 Ciranna, Montuori 2015. 
3 See Smolderen 1935. 
4 On this topic the author presented the report “Un 
faro su una commemorazione ‘sospesa’: il Memoriale 
interalleato a Cointe, Liegi” at International Conference 
Lest we forget: Cemeteries and Military Ossuaries of 
the Twentieth Century in Europe (Rome, Accademia 
Nazionale di San Luca, 31st March – 1st April 2016). 
5 Progetto di riqualificazione di piazza Augusto 
Imperatore . [online]. Divisare. Available at: < http:// 
divisare.com/projects/287270-francesco-cellini-pro - 
getto-di-riqualificazione-di-piazza-augusto-impera - 
tore > [Accessed 9 April 2016]. 
6 ATP Urbs et Civitas, Cellini, F., 2015. Il Mausoleo di 
Augusto e la sua piazza: uno spazio pubblico, non solo 
archeologico . [online]. Comune di Roma. Available at: 
< https://www.comune.roma.it/PCR/resources/cms/ 
documents/piazzamausoleoaugusto.pdf > [Accessed 
9 April 2016]. 
7 Salvagni 2000. 
8 Batocchioni, Romagnoli 2004. 
9 Rotondi 2013. 
10 Up to request to TAR of suspension of work by 
the Coordinamento Residenti Città Storica. See, 
among others: Serloni, L., 2014. “ Salvate le Scude - 
rie di Augusto”, appello per gli scavi di via Giulia . 
[online]. Repubblica. Available at: < http://roma. 
repubblica.it/cronaca/2014/09/17/news/salvate_ 
le_scuderie_di_augusto_appello_per_gli_scavi_di_ 
via_giulia-95929979/ > [Accessed 5 March 2016]. 
11 Diener & Diener Architekten, Garofalo Miura 
Architetti, Vogt Landschaftsarchitekten, 2010. Via 
Giulia. Roma . [online]. Comune di Roma. Available 
at: < http://www.comune.roma.it/PCR/resources/ 
cms/documents/VIAGIULIA_idee_SCREEN.pdf > [Ac - 
cessed 7 March 2016]. 
12 Cremona, Crescentini, Parisi Presicce 2014. 
13 Ex Mattatoio di Testaccio 2015. 
References 
Batocchioni, G., Romagnoli, L., 2004. "Scavi e siste - 
mazioni nell'area del propileo del Portico d'Ot - 
tavia", in Restauro architettonico , Atlante VIII, II. 
Torino. 860–866. 
Ciranna, S., Altobelli, C., 1987. Il Palazzo di Piazza di 
Pietra. Roma. 
Ciranna, S., Montuori, P., 2015. Tempo, spazio e ar - 
chitetture. Avezzano cento anni o poco più . Roma. 
Cremona, A., Crescentini, C., Parisi Presicce, C. 
(eds.), 2014. Gioacchino Ersoch Architetto Co - 
munale. Progetti e disegni per Roma capitale 
d’Italia . Roma. 
“ Ex Mattatoio di Testaccio. Analisi storica e riflessioni 
sulla gestione ” , 2015. In ar - ArchitettiRoma , 
112. 40–45. 
“Portico d'Ottavia - L'occasione per un intervento 
esemplare”, 2000. In Capitolium , IV, 13. 45–59. 
Rotondi, S., 2013. “Marcello Rebecchini e il cuore di 
Roma. Restauro architettonico e recupero ur - 
bano a via Giulia”, in Rassegna di Architettura e 
Urbanistica , XLVII, 140. 49–60. 
Salvagni, I., 2000. “Da ‘tempio’, a ‘portico’ a propileo: 
le soluzioni del conflitto con l’antico nella chiesa 
di Sant’Angelo in Pescaria nel Portico d’Ottavia”, 
in Archivio della Società romana di storia patria , 
123. 133–168. 
Smolderen, J., 1935. “Le mémorial interallié de 
Cointe à Liège”, in La Technique des travaux , 11. 
577–600. 

The dilemma of the redundant churches: to lose or to reuse? 
29 
Within the 2015 EAAE conservation workshop focused on adaptive reuse, one of the dis - 
cussion topics coupled two concepts – historic building and sacred meaning – each of 
them involving specific values that impact on the intervention. On one hand, the con - 
servation of the historic building is conditioned by the cultural values recognised in that 
building and the principles generally considered in this matter. On the other hand, when 
the historic building is a former church, other added values are brought to the fore and 
these ones are mostly put in question when considering the adaptive reuse. Yet it is to be 
noticed that both categories of values are determined by the way people relate to build - 
ings, recognising – more or less – these values, and this relation changes in time. 
A church is both architectural construction and sacred place. ‘By manifesting the sacred, 
any object becomes something else, yet it continues to remain itself […]. A sacred stone 
remains a stone; apparently (or, more precisely, from the profane point of view), nothing 
distinguishes it from all other stones. But for those to whom a stone reveals itself as sacred, 
its immediate reality is transmuted into a supernatural reality’ (Eliade 1959: 12) 1 . 
When a historic church loses contact with religious people able to experience the man - 
ifestation of the divine there, it becomes redundant as sacred place, yet remains architec - 
tural construction. In other words, the materiality of the church is no more transmuted into 
supernatural, but it continues to be historic architecture representative of the faith which 
gave it birth. In this case, the conservation mainly refers to the values usually considered 
with regard to architectural heritage. Yet these values are enhanced by the memory of the 
sacred embedded in the construction: even for the profane man, the old churches still retain 
an exceptional architectural quality as materialisation of an act of faith. 
Sacred and profane 
Sacred and profane are two existential situations assumed by man in the course of his his - 
tory (Eliade 1959: 15). For those people who have a religious experience, a church build - 
ing reveals itself as sacred and its material reality is invested with supernatural qualities. 
The irruption of the divine which occurs within the sacred precincts results in detaching a 
territory qualitatively different from the surrounding profane milieu. 
In a sacred space, the religious man comes in contact with the manifestation of the 
divine through a personal sensory experience stimulated by the way in which the space 
is conceived. First of all, there is the symbolic value of opening and passage between two 
modes of being, the profane and the religious. ‘The threshold, the door shows the solu - 
tion of continuity in space immediately and concretely; hence their great religious impor - 
tance, for they are symbols and at the same time vehicles of passage from the one space 
to the other’ (Eliade 1959: 25). Moreover, the church itself represents an opening in the 
THE DILEMMA OF THE REDUNDANT CHURCHES: TO LOSE OR TO REUSE? 
Rodica Crișan 
Ion Mincu University of Architecture and Urbanism, Romania 
rodica.crisan@uauim.ro 

Rodica Crișan 
30 
upward direction and ensures communication with the world of the gods. ‘On the most 
archaic levels of culture this possibility of transcendence is expressed by various images of 
an opening; here, in the sacred enclosure, communication with the gods is made possible; 
hence there must be a door to the world above, by which the gods can descend to earth 
and man can symbolically ascend to heaven’ (Eliade 1959: 26). 
A sacred space is a strongly significant space. Often there is no need for a hierophany 2 , 
properly speaking; some signs suffice to indicate the sacredness of a place. When no sign 
manifests itself, it is provoked or asked within rituals (Eliade 1959: 27). 
But only religious man is actually able to live the sensory experience of the sacred 
within a church. Modern man has desacralised his world and largely assumed a profane 
existence. Desacralisation pervades the entire experience of the non-religious man of mo - 
dem societies and, in consequence, he finds it increasingly difficult to understand and 
rediscover the existential dimensions of religious man in the archaic societies. In this case, 
do the signs and symbols embedded in the construction of the historic church still have 
the same meaning today as they did in older times? 
Signs and symbols 
Semiotics generally deals with two issues: one concerns what signs and symbols mean, the 
other how they work or the logic by which they come to mean something. There is distinc - 
tion between signifier (the perceptible vehicle or external form), signified (the meaning, 
referent, connotation, etc.) and signification (the relation between the two) 3 . There are 
also differences between signs and symbols. A sign tends to have a singular meaning; sig - 
nifier and signified are closely connected, typically come from the same context, and the 
signification itself is mostly metonymic; for example, the cross sign stands for Christianity. 
Symbols expand the notions of signs. Symbols are characterised by rich meanings that are 
multiple, fluid, diverse, layered, complex and frequently based on metaphorical associa - 
tions – as are those between typical church architectures and the corresponding spiritual 
attitudes with respect to divinity, proper to different Christian religions 4 . 
Whether the signifier is a sign or symbol embedded in an object, the communication 
is determined not by the object itself but rather by how the signifier works. A sign or 
symbol conveys information only insofar as it has meaning to a specific community. The 
meanings of signs and symbols – especially those of religious ones, often charged with 
emotion – are dependent on cultural contexts and thus variable, both in space and in 
time. This means that if the sign or symbol (signifier) is preserved intact but the mean - 
ing (signified) is changed in a new cultural context, the signification (as relation between 
signifier and signified) can have a result different from the original one; moreover, the 
signification can be completely lost when a sign or symbol no longer has meaning to a 
specific community. 
Secularisation 
The theory of secularisation in sociology explains that as society advances in modernity, 
religion withdraws. Intellectual and scientific developments have undermined the spir - 
itual, supernatural, superstitious and paranormal ideas on which religion relies. Bryan 
Wilson, one of the main supporters of the theory, defined secularisation as ‘the process 

The dilemma of the redundant churches: to lose or to reuse? 
31 
whereby religious thinking, practices and institutions lose their social significance’ (Wilson 
1966: XIV). 
Proponents of the secularisation theory assert that religion loses its social significance 
as a direct and inevitable result of three processes involved in modernisation: 
1. Rationalisation – which means that society is increasingly organised according to 
rational principles and procedures, where religious concepts and values have no 
place. 
2. Differentiation (social fragmentation) – which considers that we live in societies 
with increasingly specialised institutions (economy, education, health, politics, 
family, etc.), and religion is no longer directly relevant to the operation of any of 
them or of the social system as a whole. 
3. Decline of community and socialisation – which refers to the fact that modern life is 
increasingly organised and regulated not within close-knit local communities, but 
on the societal level governed by state bureaucracies. Religion used to be at the 
heart of local community life, and it is irrelevant for a society regulated by bureau - 
cratic rules (Shterin 2007). 
The same scholars (e.g. Bryan Wilson, Steve Bruce) point to some trends, mostly observ - 
able in developed Western European societies, which are of interest for our topic: 
- Previously accepted religious symbols, doctrines and institutions lose their pres - 
tige and importance. 
- People live in greater conformity with the material world and no longer have much 
interest in the supernatural. 
- Religion has become a private matter and no longer has much influence on other 
spheres of life. 
- People are increasingly less committed to religious values and practices. 
- Religion has become more a ‘leisure pursuit’ rather than a significant public en - 
deavour (Shterin 2007). 
Anyone familiar with Western European societies can observe the drastic decline of or - 
ganised religion and the phenomenon is confirmed by statistical data. ‘In 1851 about half 
the population of Britain attended church regularly. Now it is about 8 per cent. […] In the 
Netherlands, the percentage of the adult population describing themselves as having no 
denomination rose from 14 per cent in 1930 to 39 per cent in 1997 and 42 per cent in 
2003. An overwhelming majority of Swedes (95 per cent) seldom or never attend public 
worship’ (Bruce 2006: 36). 
The explanation of the decline of religion is certainly complex and there are many 
scientific works dedicated to this matter. Yet the phenomenon itself is undeniable. It is 
evidently there and generates effects: an increasing stock of redundant churches. A sign 
with the words ‘for sale’ on a church building is not uncommon in certain parts of Western 
Europe (Fig. 1); sometimes such ‘useless’ churches are demolished to make space for new 
constructions. 
Admitting this phenomenon and considering its extent, in 1989 the Parliamentary 
Assembly of the Council of Europe adopted Resolution 916, titled ‘Redundant religious 

Rodica Crișan 
32 
buildings’. This document points out ‘the very 
considerable number of religious buildings 
throughout Europe that no longer fulfil their 
original function and are therefore vulnerable 
through neglect to demolition or inappropriate 
transformation.’ The mentioned Resolution 
recommends the integrated conservation of 
redundant religious buildings, which are of - 
ten of architectural and historic significance, 
‘through their sensitive adaptation to new 
uses’, avoiding, except in particular cases, 
their preservation as ruins. At the same time, 
the responsible authorities (Church, govern - 
ment and local administration) are called to 
promote ‘projects for reuse and readaptation 
which are not incompatible with the original 
function of the building and do not cause irre - 
versible alteration to the original fabric’, and 
to encourage ‘a more imaginative use of exist - 
ing religious buildings’. 
Adaptive reuse 
The reuse of religious buildings for other pur - 
poses is not new. Moreover, there is a long 
tradition of changed use of sacred places, as a 
result of various processes and events that oc - 
curred throughout history. Probably the most 
famous case is the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul – 
the patriarchal church of Constantinople built 
by Emperor Justinian in 532–537, which was 
turned into a mosque by the Turks in 1453 af - 
ter their conquest of Constantinople and then became a museum in 1938. Many church 
buildings, which today are considered milestones of our architectural heritage, have only 
survived thanks to adaptive reuse. After the French Revolution, confiscated churches were 
used as stores, barns and stables. In the early 19th century a Carthusian church in Ghent was 
converted into a textile factory. The abbey of Fontenay in Burgundy, which is inscribed on 
the UNESCO World Heritage list since 1981, was used as a paper factory from 1820 to 1903 
(Coomans 2012). And the examples could continue. Before the development of scientific 
theories on historic monuments, restoration and compatible use, many churches had been 
reused mostly based on economic considerations and their potential to serve as ‘public util - 
ities’. Some of these uses would now be considered inappropriate, but they have assured 
the preservation of those buildings, sometimes with little change to their original structure. 
As times are changing, religious needs are changing too. As shown above, nowadays 
fewer people consistently attend religious services, faith communities have less economic 
force, and maintenance of worship buildings becomes unsustainable for their owners, re - 
FIG. 1. ‘Grade II listed’ church for sale in Pres - 
ton, Lancashire, UK (2014). The local Baptist 
congregation cannot sustain the property 
anymore and in 2011 decided to sell it (by 
< http://www.bbc.com/news/ uk-england-lan - 
cashire-14080311 > [Accessed 19 June 2017] ). 

The dilemma of the redundant churches: to lose or to reuse? 
33 
sulting in a significant number of churches left unused and subject to decay. Yet churches 
are in most cases buildings of historic and architectural interest valued by the community; 
therefore, it is imperative to consider their preservation. But preservation without reuse 
is not easy to justify in sustainable economic and financial terms. 
Churches are expressions of faith, which is a decisive factor in the identity of social 
groups and communities, even in times when religious practices mean only tradition and 
historic reference. A religious building historically acquires a complex range of psycholog - 
ical and ideological values referred to power and authority, emotion and devotion, ethic 
and aesthetic, theology and liturgy, individual and group, divine and human, etc. For that 
reason, the reuse of churches – where sacred and secular aspects are mixed in different 
proportions – is a delicate question. Moreover, one should note that there are significant 
differences between different Christian religious institutions and communities when it 
comes to potential adaptive reuse of derelict churches. 
A church was born as a worship place but it is essentially a public space which be - 
longs to the community rather than to a limited group of devoted churchgoers. Within 
the prevalently secular modern society, a historic church should continue to pertain to the 
local community. Conservators should always have in mind that heritage values are con - 
ditioned by their social acceptance, which can be enhanced through socially efficient use. 
From an architectural point of view, churches are very different from other buildings – 
through their particular spatial typology, iconography and environmental characteristics. 
Based on their characteristics, churches are not the best candidates for a pragmatic pro - 
fane reuse. Many churches are saved from being demolished not just for the fact that 
they are sustainable (an old church or cathedral can be expensive to heat in the winter 
and the maintenance costs are generally high) but for their distinctive artistic and histor - 
ic qualities. In practical terms, they translate simultaneously into advantages, protecting 
churches from being altered significantly, and constraints on the adaptive use: elaborate 
façades, interior decorations and features like steeples, altars, religious carvings and large 
wooden doors might be visually stunning but impractical for secular purposes. 
Churches are generally characterised by spacious interiors, with large spans and 
heights. Dividing up that interior space with walls and flooring (often required by inves - 
tors for functionality and/or maximisation of profit) means to cancel the essence of its 
architecture. In such cases the church is reduced to nothing more than a large shelter 
maintained only in order to preserve its role in the urban landscape and/or to give a cer - 
tain touch of ‘antiquity prestige’ to the new, profitable use. 
Speaking about conservation of historic buildings, Feilden asserts that the supreme ar - 
chitectural values are spatial and environmental. ‘It is by walking through an architectural 
ensemble that one senses its quality, using eyes, nose, ears and touch’ (Feilden 2003: IX). 
The interior of a church is by its essence a place of quiet contemplation, with discreet 
general light emphasising local effects due to candles, translucency and luminous strips; a 
church has specific acoustic qualities, as well as particular haptic properties. In designing 
the adaptive reuse, these environmental characteristics should be also considered as spe - 
cific values, defining the architectural quality to be preserved. 
It appears obvious that a derelict church cannot be given just any use: on the one 
hand, the activities should be compatible with its spatial and environmental qualities; on 
the other hand, they have to meet the broad consent of the residents. Broadly speaking, 
cultural uses are considered to be the most appropriate functions for former churches, 

Rodica Crișan 
34 
since the buildings can remain open to the public and be a further part of community life. 
But in pragmatic terms the new use has to be economically sustainable too. Therefore, 
the choice of the new use to be assigned to a former church is to be questioned from at 
least three points of view, which must be reconciled: conservation of architectural values, 
social acceptance and economic sustainability. 
Subsequently, the manner in which the intervention is designed also leaves room for di - 
vergent opinions and confrontations, generating strong debates and critiques, sometimes 
virulent. On one hand, there are opponents whose inflexible approach ‘seems to be in - 
creasingly caught in progressive bureaucratisation of conservation’ (Frampton 2001: 11) 5 . 
On the other hand, excessively daring interventions sometimes leads to ‘a kind of Disney 
World that nobody needs or desires’ (Frampton 2001: 11). However, cases of sensitively 
calibrated ‘middle-ground’ adaptive reuse of former churches certainly exist, and relevant 
examples are not scarce. They demonstrate how, with appropriate interventions, a former 
church building can be suited to a number of purposes – sometimes with alluring results, 
providing unique visitor experiences obtained with little change to the original structure 
and by reversible construction. 
The Netherlands is an interesting case from this point of view, exhibiting many examples 
of adaptive reuse of churches as a consequence of the dramatic drop in religious practice 
over the past fifty years. At one time the Dutch Catholic church attendance was one of 
the highest in Europe. In the 1970s the Dutch population was 40 per cent Catholic, but 
today only 24 per cent identify themselves as Catholic. And many of those who declare 
themselves Roman Catholic do not regularly attend church. As a direct result, hundreds of 
Catholic churches in the Netherlands have been shut or sold 6 . But the Dutch have given cre - 
ative new uses for these derelict historic building and three examples, all in Maastricht, have 
been visited and discussed within the 2015 EAAE Conservation workshop. In the following, 
we will comment on these examples, in ascending order of invasiveness of the intervention. 
An incontestably successful example of adaptive reuse was achieved by the monu - 
mental Franciscan ‘Minderbroeders’ church in late Gothic style. The Franciscans started to 
build the church in 1300 but the choir was only completed in the 15th century. However, 
in 1485 the church was again in ruins. It was probably then that the restoration work 
began, the relieving arches and buttresses were built and the monastery constructed. 
The year 1632 (when the troops of Frederik Hendrik conquered Maastricht, previously 
occupied by Spanish troops in 1579) marked the end of the Franciscan monastery. In the 
following years, the Franciscan ‘Minderbroeders’ were forced to leave the city and the 
church was turned into an arsenal until 1867. By the end of 1881, a section of the church 
was taken to be used for archives. The monastery buildings had several uses, including a 
reformed orphanage (1640–1690), a military hospital (1685–1798), a prison (until 1917), 
a sauerkraut factory, the workshop of the Dutch sculptor Charles Vos (d. 1954), and a 
workplace for the blind and people recovering from tuberculosis. After the Second World 
War, the Franciscan church remained furnished for a long time as an archive depot with 
beautiful neo-Gothic cabinets. By the beginning of 1962, the cupolas were restored and a 
more modern archive establishment was installed. 
In 1980, plans were made to extend the State Archives of Limburg and in 1984 it was 
decided to realise the extension at the existing location, under the motto: ‘To use a mon - 
ument is to maintain it’ 7 . The Franciscan church is now host to the study hall of the State 
Archives of Limburg, officially opened in November 1996. 

The dilemma of the redundant churches: to lose or to reuse? 
35 
This building, more than 700 years old, was created as a Catholic church, but it has had 
a sacred function for less than half of its life. For over one hundred and thirty years (since 
1881) it has been used for archives; thus the recent intervention didn’t involve a change 
in use so much as the ‘updating’ of an historic adaptive reuse. The discreet and stylish 
design valorises the spatial and environmental characteristics of the church, as an historic 
memory of the original spirit of place (Fig. 2). 
The second example – one of the most well-known and largely discussed cases of adap - 
tive reuse – is the 13th-century former Dominican church in Maastricht. Built in 1294, this 
building served the local Dutch community as a Dominican church for 500 years. Since 1794 
(when Maastricht was invaded by Napoleon and the Dominican religious order was forced 
out) it has served as: a parish church, a warehouse, then an archive, and most recently as 
a bicycle storage location. Since 2007 it has housed the Selexyz Bookstore, designed by the 
architecture firm Merkx+Girod in Amsterdam 8 . After more than 200 years of different uses 
(more or less appropriate), the redundant Dominican church was returned to a decent ac - 
tive life and the present community benefits from the new use of the historic space. 
Within a sensitively calibrated adaptive reuse, the old church was fitted with a min - 
imalist and modern interior design, intended to emphasise the distinctive architecture 
of the church while ensuring requested functionality 9 . The major addition is a three-sto - 
rey book stack asymmetrically placed in the church, thus leaving to the left the entire 
height of the Gothic church intact. Thanks to the slender frame structure in black steel 
and the use of perforated steel plates, the new insertion looks discreet and does not 
conflict with church’s architecture. Moreover, the new walk-in book stack is similar to a 
scaffold which stretches up to the stone vaults, allowing the visitor unprecedented views 
of historic architectural details from close-by and an impressive overall perspective of the 
colossal space of the Gothic church. Last but not least, the construction of the new walk- 
in book stack is reversible and can be dismantled at any time without altering the historic 
substance. (Figs. 3–5). A cross-shaped reading table was included into the former choir: 
in the new profane cultural context, a new signification is generated by the old Christian 
sign, recalling the primary, sacred use of the building. 
The third example shows a completely different approach. It is about the complex of 
the former Kruisheren monastery in the centre of Maastricht, recently transformed into a 
luxury hotel designed by the Dutch firm Satijnplus Architecten. 
After the foundation of the Order of Crutched Friars (the Kruisheren) in 1238 in Huy 
(Belgium), in about 1437 it was decided to establish a new monastery in Maastricht. 
Construction started in 1440 with the chancel of the church, completed in 1459. In 1461, 
paintings were added to the Late Gothic ceilings. The construction of the east wing of the 
monastery began in 1483, and the entire complex was completed in 1520 with the finali - 
sation of the south wing of the monastery. During the French occupation, the monastery 
was closed down and the monks were exiled. From that moment on, the complex was 
used for the storage of munitions and later as a barracks and military bakery. 
Following the departure of the French, the building became the property of the Dutch 
state and, in time, the complex started to show signs of decline. By the end of the 19th 
century, Squire Victor de Stuers, the founder of the Dutch cultural heritage movement, 
started to show his interest in the complex and began organising its restoration. He de - 
cided to house the National Agricultural Research Station here, with the aphorism: ‘There 
is no better solution to the decay of old buildings than to give them a good purpose’ 10 . 

Rodica Crișan 
36 
FIG. 2. The State Archives Limburg in the former Franciscan ‘Minderbroeders’ church in Maastricht: view of a 
meeting room in the former chapel Our Lady Star of the Sea (CC-BY-SA-4.0). 
FIGS. 3-5. Selexyz Bookstore in the former Dominican church in Maastricht. 

The dilemma of the redundant churches: to lose or to reuse? 
37 
In 1900, after radical restoration work, the cloister remained in use as the National 
Agricultural Research Station. In the mid-20th century, the Kruisheren cloister became a 
protected national monument under the Dutch monuments law. 
The Kruisheren monastery was abandoned in the early 1980s and the complex be - 
gan to fall into disrepair once again due to disuse and neglect. Afterwards the city of 
Maastricht bought the buildings and started looking for a new use. The first idea was to 
accommodate the Academy of Fine Arts there. However, this plan was not feasible be - 
cause the educational establishment could not bear the repair and maintenance costs. 
Other uses suggested in the following years were rejected due to the same problem of 
insufficient financial resources. In late 2000, Camille Oostwegel, owner of Chateau Hotels 
and Restaurants, proposed that the city of Maastricht accommodate a luxury hotel in the 
derelict monastery. His proposal was received with enthusiasm by the municipality, pro - 
vided that all interventions would be reversible in order to preserve the historic values 11 . 
The Kruisheren Hotel was inaugurated in 2005 and is advertised as a ‘design hotel 
between heaven and earth’ 12 . The Gothic church of the former monastery houses sev - 
eral hotel facilities: reception, lobby, three lounge corners (in the former side chapels), 
three modern boardrooms, a library, a glass lift and the wine bar exhibiting an unusual 
wine storage. The nave of the church also contains an extensive mezzanine with a restau - 
rant area. The modern intervention is particularly impressive (not necessarily in a positive 
sense) due to the stunning manner in which the many hotel facilities have been designed 
and inserted in the monumental Gothic building. 
Entering the building, it becomes evident that the design of the conversion was mainly 
focused on the commercial attractiveness of the profitable new use, and not on the valo - 
risation of the 15th-century Gothic church. The historic construction is assigned only the 
role of shelter and its prominent murals become only a background for the futurist design 
which emphatically redefines the architecture of the place. The typical Gothic spatiality is 
cancelled by numerous partitions, and by the dizzying agglomeration of strange forms and 
striking colours. Visual effects (recalling funfair amusements) deflect the attention from 
the original architecture. The acoustic and haptic characteristics of the historic building 
are completely changed too. On the whole, the heavy and inflated interior design seems 
a gathering of stalls and amusements for public entertainment that totally clash with the 
austere architectural character of the monumental church 13 (Figs. 6-8). 
Even if disputable from a theoretical perspective, the adaptive reuse saved from ruin 
a valuable historic building fallen into disrepair after a long period of vacancy and neglect. 
As it was proved impossible to support the renovation from public funds, a high amount 
of private financing (80 per cent) was used, leading to the prevalence of commercial profit 
criteria in designing the adaptive reuse. The best part of the intervention is that the trans - 
formations are based on a ‘box-in-box’ construction: independent construction units are 
positioned in the church and could be removed at a forthcoming change of use. 
Conclusions 
As society advances in modernity, people are ever less committed to religious values and 
practices. In the new cultural context, previously accepted religious symbols, doctrines 
and institutions lose their prestige and importance. 

Rodica Crișan 
38 
The drastic decline of organised religion generates an increasing stock of redundant 
churches. They are vulnerable through neglect to demolition or inappropriate transforma - 
tion. In most cases, derelict churches are buildings with historic and architectural interest, 
worthy of being preserved. But preservation without reuse is not easy to support in eco - 
nomic and financial terms. 
Redundant as sacred space, a church building remains representative of the religion 
for which it was created, testifying to local identity and traditions. Even in a prevalently 
secular society, the historic and identity values of religion still exist. Preserving and reusing 
a church for socially accepted purposes enriches the community with historic values. 
FIGS. 6-8. Luxury hotel facil - 
ities in the Gothic church of 
the former Kruisheren Mon - 
astery in Maastricht. 

The dilemma of the redundant churches: to lose or to reuse? 
39 
Reuse is a continuous process and reflects the constantly evolving society. Each 
successive reuse can be considered as a new start in a building’s life, one which adds a 
new layer in its history. History proves that successive reuses can alternate religious and 
non-religious uses. During their long existence, some churches were used less for worship 
than for other purposes; in critical periods this prevented their loss. 
Reusing redundant churches is always better than demolishing them. Adaptive reuse 
can turn these at-risk churches into buildings of opportunities. A more liberal attitude to 
the reuse of churches may be beneficial in preventing their definitive loss, as long as the 
adaptive intervention does not cause irreversible alteration to the original fabric and is 
based on reversible construction. 
For the architect, the adaptive reuse of historic church buildings with exceptional ar - 
chitectural qualities can be a professional exercise on the highest level and ‘the best way 
to keep the tools sharp until the great job, the great moment, comes along’ (Rexroth 
1959). It is also an exercise in understanding and appreciation of the work of predeces - 
sors. The architect who can project himself into exultation of another learns more than 
the craft of designing a building. He learns the stuff of architecture 14 . 
Notes 
1 Mircea Eliade (1907–1986) was a Romanian his - 
torian of religion, fiction writer, philosopher and 
professor at the University of Chicago. He was a 
leading interpreter of religious experience, who es - 
tablished paradigms in religious studies that persist 
to this day. 
2 Hierophany (Greek: hieros , ‘sacred’, + phainein , 
‘to show’). The manifestation of the divine or the 
sacred, especially in a sacred place, object or occa - 
sion. Manifestations of some particular aspect may 
be named after the aspect revealed, e.g. theophany 
(of divinity), kratophany (of power). Apud Bowker, 
J., 1997. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of World Re - 
ligions . [online]. Available at: < http://www.encyclo - 
pedia.com > [Accessed 17 February 2016]. According 
to Mircea Eliade’s theory, hierophanies form the 
basis of religion, splitting the human experience of 
reality into sacred and profane space and time. 
3 Symbols . [online]. International Encyclopedia of 
the Social Science. Available at: < http://www.ency - 
clopedia.com/topic/Signs_and_symbols.aspx > [Ac - 
cessed 2 March 2016]. 
4 Analysing the three major types of Christian archi - 
tecture – the Romanic basilica, the Gothic cathedral 
and the Byzantine church – Lucian Blaga (philoso - 
pher and writer, commanding personality of the Ro - 
manian culture of the interbellum period) proposes 
an interpretation of the metaphysical determination 
International of the architectural forms based on 
specific relations with the transcendence proper to 
different religions. The severe architecture of the 
Roman basilica focuses on the altar and the priest. 
Its architectural concept is based on the idea that 
transcendence can be forced to show itself through 
a miracle due to the strong power of the magic rit - 
ual act performed by the priest in front of the altar. 
The Gothic cathedral, with its frenzy of verticality, 
expresses the spiritual aspiration to rise toward 
transcendence through human effort, interior trans - 
figuration and sublimation. The Byzantine church 
seems to float between earth and sky like a world in 
itself, bounded only by its own vaults. Through their 
construction, Byzantine churches express the idea 
that the transcendence is descending to become 
palpable and a revelation from above is possible 
at any time. This feeling is reinforced by the role of 
light rays, which penetrate the obscurity and acquire 
material consistency in the sacred space; the light 
is an integral part of the Byzantine architecture, as 
a visible and symbolic expression of transcendence 
(Blaga 1969: 78). 
5 ‘Have our standards become so exacting that 
they inhibit a more liberal approach to the recon - 
stitution and appropriation of antique form? The 
world as a whole seems to be increasingly caught in 
progressive bureaucratisation of conservation… with 
architectural purity on one side of the argument, 
and crass reconstructivism operating with impunity 
on the other; the latter leading to a kind of Disney 
World that nobody needs or desires. Between these 
two poles, there surely exists an intelligent sensitive - 
ly calibrated “middle ground”’ (Frampton 2001: 11). 
6 Maastricht. New Live for Old Churches . [online]. 
Available at: < http://viewfromsintpieterstraat.blog -