Kuwait City witnessed an unparallel redevelopment project in the 1950s; the planning, execution, and implementation of the 1952 Master Plan for Kuwait City. By the 1960s only a handful of historical buildings survived the redevelopment project. It was the era of modernization when anything other than modern was unacceptable. It was a period of political and social change, manifested mainly through architecture. It was the time to move out of the old introverted courtyard house and into the new extroverted modern villa. While most scholars attribute the speed and degree of modernization of Kuwait City to the production of oil in the 1940s and the subsequent increase in wealth, other factors contributing to this drastic transformation have been overlooked. The social, cultural, political, in addition to the economic situation of Kuwait right before the discovery of oil was quite dynamic and filled with ideas and ideals of departing from the past and joining the new modern world. Hence, the wealth generated by the production of oil became a facilitator to achieve a new vision of what the outlook of modern Kuwait should be. The drastic transformation of the Kuwaiti society was most evident in the new styles of domestic architecture. The modern villa was viewed a positive, progressive place to raise a modern family. Subsequently, the traditional courtyard house emerged as a negative icon of the past. This paper explores the transformation of Kuwait’s domestic architecture during the 1950s modernization era, and examines the intertwined relationship between the social and physical attributes of this transformation.

My paper examines the controversies surrounding plans by the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA) to replace the crumbling World War II barracks that were at the origin of Palestinian refugee camp of Neirab Camp in northern Syria with apartment buildings. UNRWA argues that apartment buildings will solve the humidity, flooding, leaking, lack of sunlight and overcrowding faced by barrack residents and liberate space for larger roads, green areas and playgrounds which are nonexistent in the camp. In my paper, I reflect on the tensions between the goals of this UNRWA sponsored project which seeks to transform Neirab Camp into a space of “healthy modern living” and the views of some Palestinian refugees in Neirab who see the project as threatening to erase the traces of exile and dispossession that are constitutive of Neirab’s landscape and of their identity as refugees. These refugees argue that “Neirab must keep its features as a [Palestinian Refugee] Camp” and not be transformed in a homogeneous space that would resemble a typical urban Syrian neighborhood and blend in to its surroundings. On the other hand, there are Palestinians who wonder if holding on to their refugee identity must necessarily entail giving up some of the comforts associated with ‘modern living.’ By analyzing the different viewpoints regarding how to improve the space of the Neirab barracks, my paper examines whether is possible to come up with a notion of progress which bridges the goal of improving Neirab Camp’s infrastructure with Neirab’s inhabitants’ commitment to maintaining their difference as Palestinian refugees and preserving their right of return to their pre-1948 homes.

The Turkish House is a memory device rather than an architectural form with precise definition. Despite the diversity of housing forms across Turkey, Istanbul’s vernacular timber houses from the 18th and 19th centuries lend their looks to this apparition. Architectural commentaries on the Turkish House in the Republican Period (1923-50) have been the subject of several studies, but its reappraisal starting in the mid1970s and growing popularity until the present day remains unexplored. How can its “return” be explained? What does it mean for the negotiation of socio-political identities that formed around its documentation, protection, branding, and consumption? Based on archival research and analysis of select popular media representations, this paper suggests that the renewed attention was informed by the process of European integration, and heritage discourses actively promoted by institutions such as the Council of Europe. This return is significant to understand the nostalgia for old Istanbul that has framed discourses of the city since the 1980s, and materialized ranging in form from the fictional restoration of urban fragments to plans to freeze historic quarters. Nostalgia for old Istanbul centers partly on the Turkish House, and the traditional neighborhood it constituted. This longing contrasts with the evaluation of the Turkish House in the Republican Period by several prominent local architects where it was upheld for embodying a timeless form on par with principles of architectural modernism, and consequently, turned into an object of typological research. In the immediate post-WWII phase (1950-70s) of rapid urbanization, despite the drastic speed with which old houses disappeared, architects and other environmental design professionals remained dispassionate about the Turkish House. Amongst the general public, too, the renovation of Istanbul’s urban fabric with boulevards and concrete-frame blocks at the expense of the historic fabric of timber houses was celebrated. By the mid-1980s, however, this modernist frame of mind had completely changed. Several associations, organizations, and universities had developed an active interest in the documentation of old houses. At this junction, the relaxation of Turkey’s formerly state controlled audiovisual media enterprise helped popularize the Turkish House and participated in its return as the focus of a nostalgic urban modernity.

The historic preservation programs in the intramural Old City of Damascus are mediated local responses to global exchanges that are creating new ways of imagining the city. Whereas in the past many Syrians called for the demolition of the Old City as backward and traditional, it is now emerging as the site for the consumption of local heritage and history. Based on an interdisciplinary approach that combines ethnography, history, and architecture I demonstrate how global capital, in the guise of investors, creates new forms of investment and patterns of consumption in the Old City. I will focus on how conversion of courtyard houses into restaurants and hotels, in the name of historic preservation, is increasing the value of ordinary houses thereby encouraging many owners to sell their homes. Moreover, the restaurants and hotels cater to a specific cliental that excludes many of the local inhabitants. As a result the demography of the Old City is changing. I will illustrate the dichotomy between consumers who tend to live outside the Old City and are perceived to be more modern and western than local inhabitants who are considered to be more traditional. As investors perceive houses as investments rather than residences, long-term residents of the Old City are further marginalized from investment and consumption opportunities in their neighborhoods. I conclude with how this new approach to historic preservation is leading to new ways of imaging the Old City by re-defining ownership and stewardship of heritage in the historic neighborhoods.