Why Imitating the Past Isn’t Preservation—It’s Erasing the Present

A Quick Introduction

In an architectural landscape dominated by illusions, an urgent question arises: what are we really building when we imitate the past? This text offers a critical reading of the “historical fake” and argues for an honest, contextual architecture, rooted in its own time. An architecture capable of dialoguing with history without betraying it.

Sidebar – Quick Summary for the Reader

What you are about to read:
This manifesto deconstructs the phenomenon of pseudo-ancient architectures, often presented as “restorations.” It demonstrates how these projects mask the present, erase real memory, and impoverish the cultural landscape.
An alternative is proposed: critical continuity, a contemporary approach that respects the past without plagiarizing it.

A text for architects, mayors, developers, and investors sensitive to the identity of places.

INTRODUCTION

The Betrayal of Sight and Mind

Imagine yourself sitting on a small, cobbled square in Provence. Sunlight filters through the gnarled branches of plane trees, the scent of lavender wafts from stone planters. Before you, a harmonious sequence of light stone houses, sage-green shutters, tiles weathered by time. It feels like a medieval village, and you are at the heart of an ancient story.

Then you realize it was all built in 2022.

The stones are industrial cladding. The arches are prefabricated concrete. The façades are perfect, too perfect. The materials simulate aging. And what seemed a place of memory is merely a stage set, designed to produce an effect. To seduce. To please.

This is the betrayal: when everything seems ancient… but nothing is, we lose our sense of the present—and of the past.
We understand that History is no longer legible, but reconstructed.
That the identity of the place is not the fruit of real stratification, but of a stylistic collage.

So, we ask ourselves:
 Where does real history end, and its caricature begin?
 Where does architecture stand today, between responsibility and staging?
 What becomes of a territory when we erase its historical trace and replace it with an illusion?

This article is not just a critique of the “historical fake.”
It is a commitment to an honest, critical, culturally conscious architecture.
One that knows how to dialogue with the past… but without imitating it.
One that leaves a mark of its own time… instead of denying it.
One that builds a future memory through the clarity of the present.

Welcome to the architecture of truth.
Against the architecture of the lie.

1 – It’s Not Restoration, It’s Scenography

There is a subtle but crucial difference between restoring, reconstructing, imitating, and staging.
A difference that concerns historical truth, but also the cultural message an architectural work communicates to the landscape and its inhabitants.

Restoration, according to the Italian critical tradition—from Boito to Brandi to Giovanni Carbonara—is an act of conscious care: a critical restitution of the work, respectful of its material, its era, its historical trajectory.
Reconstruction, if well-documented, is a philological operation: it assumes the intervention, justifies it on verifiable historical grounds, and declares it.
Imitation, on the other hand, seeks to resemble, to evoke a style, a memory, but often in a hybrid, ambiguous, decorative way.
And then there is the scenographic fake: constructions that are neither restoration, nor reconstruction, nor a critical project, but rather thematic environments, imagined to suggest, not to last. Think of the fake masserie in Puglia, the neo-medieval villages built in Provence in the 2000s, the “Tuscan” residential villages that appeared like film sets in the rural landscapes of southern France.

Behind the façade of “enhancing the territory” hides a purely aesthetic operation, designed to create an illusion of authenticity: thin stones glued onto industrial insulation, reinforced concrete arches aged to look medieval, prefabricated tile roofs artificially weathered.
Everything is perfectly coherent, but nothing is true.

According to Cesare Brandi,

“Restoration aims to reestablish the potential unity of the work of art, as far as possible without committing a historical or artistic fake, and without erasing any trace of the passage of the work through time.”

In the scenographic fake, this rule is systematically flouted.
There is no potential unity to reestablish, because no pre-existing historical work exists.
And there is no trace of the passage of time, because everything is fake and everything is new, designed to look old.

The paradox is that the more these architectures seek to evoke the past, the more they trivialize it, reducing it to a style, a repeatable scheme, a tourist product.
Form replaces substance.
And architecture abdicates its cultural mission, becoming permanent, static, depthless scenography.

This is not memory.
This is not architecture.
This is real estate entertainment disguised as preservation.

And when the fake replaces the true, it is not only the past that is betrayed, but also the present.
Because a building constructed today that refuses to declare its era leaves no trace of our time, no reading for those who will come after.
Step by step, we begin to erase real history and replace it with a copy without era, without place, without meaning.

This is why we cannot call this restoration.
Nor even enhancement.
Because it is not architecture. It is scenography.

Definition

Faux historique (Historical Fake): Contemporary architectural work that imitates forms of the past, without declaring its recent nature and without a critical or documented function. It is neither restoration nor reconstruction: it is staging.

2 – The Landscape as a Palimpsest of Time

The built landscape is never neutral.
It is a stratified text, written slowly over centuries, where each era has left a trace, a plan, a geometry, a technique.
To inhabit is always, even unconsciously, to inhabit a history.

Some territories preserve a continuity of millennial use, like Rome. Others tell a more recent, interrupted history. Then there are territories where the stratification is fragmented but visible.
It is this invisible temporal map that every place carries.
A map made of superimpositions, discontinuities, transitions.
A map that is cultural heritage, not only for what it shows, but for how it can be read.

And it is precisely here that the historical fake acts as a short-circuit.
A “pseudo-ancient” construction, inserted into the landscape like a theater set, does not add a new chapter, but conceals it.
It does not dialogue with what exists; it suppresses it.
It does not write a new line in the text of the landscape; it covers it with a confusing ornament.

The effect is comparable to a botched painting restoration: instead of leaving the gaps visible, one paints over them, simulating continuity. But where one simulates, one lies. And where one lies, we lose the possibility of an authentic reading.

The genius loci (spirit of the place) is not a form.
It is a fabric of historical, material, social, and territorial relations.
It is not in the pitch of the roof, but in the why that roof was built there, at that altitude, with that slope.
It is not in the exposed stone, but in the constructive and cultural necessity that made it a choice, not a decoration.

When we imitate the past without understanding it, we destroy its meaning.
When we add fake medieval villages where history had planned none, we alter the geography of memory.
We can no longer distinguish which part of the town is authentic, where it developed, which trace withstood time. Everything seems ancient, everything is fake, nothing is legible.

If architecture must build the future, it must also allow the past to be read.
And this is only possible if the stratification remains clear, distinguishable, intact in its complexity.
Without true stratification, the landscape becomes a false palimpsest: an indistinct collage where history fades and only representation remains.

Key Concept

Palimpsest: Metaphor describing the landscape as a stratified text, where every authentic intervention adds a new, legible layer.

3 – The Cultural Disarray of the Fake

There is a particular form of unease when you discover that what seemed true… is not.
It’s a slight but profound sensation. A slippage of perceptual trust.
You are in a town that seems from the 16th century, but was built in 2021. The stones are decorative, the arches prefabricated, the aging artificial.
And yet, a moment ago, you believed it. You projected onto this place an imagination of memory, rootedness, permanence.

This experience is more than an aesthetic disappointment. It is a cognitive trauma.
You realize the landscape has deceived you. And you wonder: how many other times has this happened, without me noticing?

What one might call the “simulated authenticity syndrome” is a widespread contemporary condition: we live in environments designed to look like the past, without being it. These architectures do not declare their era; they mask it behind a misleading stylistic coherence .

The result is a disorienting landscape, where eras blur, traces overlap without logic, languages lose all meaning.
It is not only the territory that is distorted.
It is our gaze that is trained towards cultural blindness.

We perceive as authentic what is merely coherent.
And we lose the ability to distinguish the real from the artificial, the document from the copy, the heritage from the staging.

The damage is profound because the landscape—like architecture—is a cognitive interface.
It serves to orient ourselves, to understand where we come from, where we are, where we are going.
When architecture betrays this function, it deprives us of cultural and temporal coordinates.
It produces a loss of meaning, a flattening of history into an eternal present without real memory.

In an authentic town, every misaligned stone, every change in level, every added detail tells a story of transformation.
In a fake town, everything is perfect—and that is precisely why everything is silent.

Simulation is not neutral.
It is a cultural choice.
And its consequences are not limited to the visual aspect: they seep into our relationship with the truth of a place.

When fiction becomes the norm, we grow accustomed to the fake as if it were true.
And, at that moment, we cease to see.

Critical Note

The historical fake, beyond perceptual damage, often serves as a tool for speculative real estate operations. The appearance of an “ancient village” becomes a marketing lever. A reassuring image is sold, while quality of life, sustainability, and the cultural depth of the project are relegated to the background.

Mini-Timeline of Perceptual Decline

1. We build in a pseudo-old style to “enhance value.”

2. It sells easily, thanks to nostalgic aesthetics.

3. Time reveals the lack of substance and authenticity.

4. The property devalues, the narrative wears thin.

4 – Architectures That Betray Their Era

Every era has a duty to leave legible traces of itself.
Architecture has always been one of the primary means for a civilization to tell its vision of the world, its technique, its material culture. To build is therefore much more than a functional act: it is taking a position in time.

And yet, today, too many architectures renounce this responsibility.
They take the easy way out: mimicry, undeclared evocation, stylistic quotation.
They disguise themselves as old, but silence their present.

A contemporary building that imitates the form of a 17th-century mas without telling us about our own era adds no historical information to the landscape; it merely fills space without meaning. The historical fake doesn’t just lie about the past—it denies the present.

This betrayal manifests on several levels:

• Formal: Reuse of elements out of context.

• Material: Materials that simulate disappeared techniques.

• Technological: Structural or energy efficiency is masked with a historicizing veneer.

But the deepest problem is cultural.
These architectures refuse to declare their era, as if the present had nothing to say.
As if only the past was worth celebrating—and the present had to be concealed.

Conversely, the works that create true continuity are those that know how to quote without imitating, interpret without copying, dialogue without blending in.
An arch can exist in a contemporary building, certainly.
But it must be an arch of our time: clear in its technique, its function, its material.
Not a heritage fetish meant to reassure the eye.

Temporal honesty is not a limitation: it is an act of responsibility towards the future.

Because if every era only built copies of the past,
the landscape would remain frozen.
And in a hundred years, no one will find traces of our vision, our materials, our needs.

The truth of our time deserves to be built.
Otherwise, if everything imitates the past, no one builds the present.

5 – The Alternative: Critical Continuity, Not Imitation

If imitating the past causes disorientation and loss of meaning, how can we do otherwise?
The answer is not to cut all ties with history.
But to build an architectural project based on critical continuity: listen to the past, but speak in the language of the present.

No need to invent, just look better.

Contemporary architects work on this subtle threshold between memory and novelty.
Peter Zumthor, in Vals, sculpts thermal baths that seem to emerge from the rock, without imitation.
Eduardo Souto de Moura, in his restorations, inserts clear gestures in concrete or steel.
Luigi Buzzi, in the Italian countryside, deconstructs the archetype of the farmhouse.

Daimon Design shares this approach.
In several projects in the Maritime Alps, the studio reinterprets vernacular elements—arch, roof pitch, mineral textures—without seeking to camouflage them.
The arch becomes an integral part, the stone is real, resting on contemporary technical gestures.
Every gesture is an interpretation, not a copy.

The key is clear:
 It is not the form that matters, but the intention.
 It is not the image, but the cultural statement one makes by inserting oneself into the landscape.

Architecture can be respectful, sober, evocative.
But it must be true.
Truth is only built when one assumes one’s responsibility in time.

6 – The Cultural Value of Historical Legibility

There is a subtle, but powerful, value that the historical fake destroys:

• the legibility of time,

• the ability to distinguish eras,

• the possibility of telling a true, stratified, continuous story.

A legible landscape is a narratable landscape.
And a narratable landscape is valuable, both culturally and touristically or economically.

In urban and territorial enhancement, interest is growing for projects that do not imagine the past but tell it.
In the context of so-called heritage investing, projects that declare their era are favored for their cultural credibility.

In Occitanie, some local authorities now encourage temporally transparent projects over historicizing simulacra.
A new building that respects and enriches the narrative of a place has more value, attraction, and future.

Building an “old-style” edifice today is equivalent to falsifying a document.
Building a deliberately contemporary, but contextually connected, edifice is like writing a new, legible chapter.

Thus, authentic architecture is more than ethical—it is also intelligent.

7 – The Architect’s Responsibility Today

Architecture is not just form.
It is cultural positioning.
It is a political and temporal declaration.
Today, designing is not just about solving functions or aesthetics: it is about assuming one’s place in history.

The contemporary architect can no longer be a mere “creator of territory looks.”
They must become a curator of contextual truths, a guardian of the narrative of places.

Building a fake old village today is a regressive act.
It is neither innocent nor neutral.
It sends the message: the present has nothing to offer, better to repeat the past.

Conversely, designing with temporal honesty, sobriety, and respect is to offer the landscape a possibility of a future.
It is to give places a legible and coherent identity, transmissible in the cultural, tourist, and economic programs of the territory.

The architect thus becomes a strategic consultant for territorial positioning.
Not to sell “reassuring” styles, but to build a narratable authenticity.

History does not repeat itself.
It continues.
And it is up to us to decide what kind of traces we leave in the landscape of tomorrow.

CONCLUSION – Truth as the New Luxury

In an era of perfect simulacra, truth has become a luxury.

A cultural luxury.
An architectural luxury.
A strategic luxury.

Today, choosing to build with true materials, honest forms, and a clear temporal declaration is a choice that is at once refined, ethical, and foresighted.

Architecture that imitates to seduce is destined to age poorly.
That which listens to the past to interpret the present is destined to become future heritage.

This is the vision Daimon Design carries in its projects between Provence and the Maritime Alps:
a cultural, narrative, situated architecture.
Capable of dialoguing with history without betraying it, and with the territory without vulgarizing it.

Against the architecture of the lie,
it is time to choose the architecture of the truth.

CRITICAL APPARATUS & RESOURCES

Essential Bibliography

• Cesare Brandi, Theory of Restoration, Einaudi

• Giovanni Carbonara, Approach to Restoration, Liguori Editore

• Giorgio Bozzoni, Architectural Restoration and Design Culture, Laterza

• Camillo Boito, Restorations in Architecture, Marsilio

• Eduardo Souto de Moura, Architecture and Memory, Electa

• Peter Zumthor, Atmospheres, Birkhäuser

Glossary (excerpt)

• Historical Fake: Architectural imitation without historical basis or critical justification.

• Architectural Scenography: Construction designed to resemble without real or historical function.

• Simulated Authenticity: Misleading stylistic coherence masking the falsity of the intervention.

• Critical Continuity: Design method creating a link with the past without reproducing it.

Checklist for Architects and Developers

To build respecting the landscape, memory, and present:

• Temporal Authenticity: Does the project explicitly declare its era of construction?

• Respect for Stratification: Does the intervention insert itself legibly into the history of the place?

• Dialogue with Context: Does the project interpret the genius loci and local materials?

• Constructive and Material Clarity: Are the materials authentic and transparent?

• Cultural Responsibility: Does the project generate a durable territorial identity?

Daimon Design develops architectural and landscape projects in dialogue with time, territory, and identity.
Against the fake. For the truth of building.

“Against the architecture of the lie, it is time to choose the architecture of the truth.”