The Burra Charter and the Life of a Place

When I approach a heritage house, I am looking at the building as a physical thing that has aged, moved, been repaired, and been altered over time. I want to see age and patina, repairs and additions, alterations and modifications. I want to know where the building is moving, where it is broken or cracked. I check whether the floor is level or sloping, whether walls are plumb or leaning, whether finishes are cracked or intact.

This is not sentiment. It is observation. Each of these things tells me something useful.

Age and patina show me what is original and what has been touched. Repairs tell me where problems have occurred and whether they were addressed properly or just covered over. Additions and alterations reveal how the house has been used differently over time. They show me what people valued enough to modify, and whether those modifications respected what was already there or worked against it.

Movement, cracks, and breaks tell me about the structure, showing me how the building has settled and where stress is accumulating. A floor that is not level or walls that are out of plumb means the house has moved. That informs what is possible now.

Finishes that are in good condition or deteriorating tell me what has been maintained and what has been neglected. They tell me what can be kept and what will need replacing.

All of this matters because heritage work is not about preserving an idea of the past. It is about understanding what the building actually is, how it has evolved, and what it can still support. The decisions that follow depend on observing the building carefully first.

The Burra Charter provides a framework for this kind of thinking. Adopted by Australia ICOMOS in 1979 and revised in 2013, it is not a rulebook but a set of principles for working with places of cultural significance. It asks what makes a place significant and how we honour that without freezing it in place or erasing what matters.

The Charter encourages what it calls a cautious approach: do as much as necessary, as little as possible. Intervene where needed, but retain or reveal significance rather than altering it without reason. It recognises that places can carry historical, Indigenous, social, or aesthetic importance, and that each layer deserves consideration. It also acknowledges that adaptation is part of conservation. Places can have new uses, provided these do not erase what makes them meaningful.

These principles align with how I already work. When I assess a house, I am looking for what is significant and what is not, what can be altered and what should not. The Charter gives structure to that process and provides language for decisions that might otherwise feel case-by-case or intuitive.

Heritage work involves tension. People want to use a house differently, or more comfortably, or in ways that suit contemporary life. The Charter does not resolve that tension, but it provides a way to navigate it. It asks you to understand what you have before deciding what to change. It asks you to weigh what is gained against what is lost. It asks you to be deliberate rather than reactive.

In practice, this means decisions emerge gradually. I assess the significance of the place, its history, its fabric, its setting, and the way it has been used over time. I identify what matters and why. I consider how the place can be maintained or adapted without losing its essential character. As work unfolds, I observe the building again, adjust as needed, and weigh every decision against what truly matters.

This approach is useful even for houses that are not formally listed as heritage. Any older house carries evidence of how it has been used, altered, and maintained. That evidence informs what is possible and what is not. Changes that ignore this tend to weaken the building or erase what made it coherent. Alterations that work with it tend to feel right, even when they are substantial.

I have noticed that well-adapted houses retain their character not because they have been preserved exactly as they were, but because the alterations respected what was there. The structure was understood, the proportions maintained. Materials were compatible. The additions felt like they belonged rather than like they were imposed.

When alterations erase what mattered, houses tend to feel incoherent. The scale is wrong, the materials clash. Spatial relationships no longer make sense. The building has lost what once held it together.

The Burra Charter does not prevent alteration. It provides a way to work thoughtfully, so the building can continue to function without losing what makes it meaningful. That is useful whether you are working on a house with formal heritage recognition or simply an older house that deserves careful attention.

Conservation is not about freezing the past. It is about understanding what you have and making decisions that allow the building to adapt without forgetting itself.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Source:
Australia ICOMOS, The Burra Charter and Practice Notes (2013)
https://australia.icomos.org/publications/burra-charter-practice-notes/