
Cultural Responses to Ynys Môn’s Archaeology

Through the Public Map Platform project we’re exploring ways that we engage with our environment and what the spaces in which we live mean to us. As an archaeologist, I have spent plenty of time considering how people in the past engaged with their landscapes. From a heritage management perspective, I have also thought about the value modern communities place on the physical remains left by previous generations.
In my experience, I have found that most people do take some interest in archaeological remains; it’s fascinating to think about how people used to live. But when these remains are within the area that we call home, and the people who built them once inhabited the same place as us, the interest runs deeper.
The spaces we travel through each day are the consequences of generations of work and development. Most of the buildings, roadways and field boundaries that we see and use every day were constructed initially by past generations. Other relics of the past, some perhaps no longer in use, are scattered throughout the landscape. Ynys Môn is rich in archaeological remains, ranging from prehistoric, through the Roman and medieval periods, up to more recent generations.
These features in the landscape can contribute to a feeling of familiarity to a place. I grew up in the West Midlands and the red brick, the old industrial buildings, the canals, and the malty smell of the brewery where my grandfather used to work all contribute to my sense of ‘home’. This was not something I had realised until I moved away from the area. Residents of Ynys Môn will have their own equivalent features; perhaps the chambered tombs, which often seem to resemble the natural outcrops of the island. The remains of the old windmills, scattered across the higher undulations of the landscape. The two bridges which connect the island to the mainland. The quarries, which contrast with the lush green of the surrounding fields. The stone houses of the numerous settlements. Or even some small, unique architectural quirks of a particular village.
These features also contribute to a feeling of belonging and identity. They are evidence of the people who came before, and who these people were. For those whose ancestors also inhabited the landscape, they provide connection and continuity. For those who are new to the area, they help explain the stories of the land in which they now play a part.
But how do we capture these feelings on a map? There has been debate amongst archaeologists, especially since the introduction of Geographic Information Systems, about how best to represent a sense of place on a map; how to capture what people might feel about the world around them. With this in mind, I wondered how I could gather information about people’s feelings about the island’s archaeology, and also how to record them onto the digital map we are creating. I discussed this with Tristian Evans, a researcher in the cultural team and a fellow Public Map Platform mapper. He was aware of a number of cultural projects that had been inspired by archaeological remains on Ynys Môn and thought this could be an initial approach. I did some research and found many more examples of such projects. A variety of Ynys Môn’s prehistoric monuments have inspired art, film, music and events, such as an art project where local artist Julie Williams worked with school children to interpret some Ynys Môn standing stones artistically, the Songs from Stones film, which premiered at Beaumaris Castle, and Llyn y Cwn’s Megaliths album, which is inspired by standing stones, including some on Ynys Môn. Other archaeological features have inspired works, such as the mills and agricultural buildings painted by Kyffin Williams.
Recording these projects onto a map layer seemed a great approach to gathering data concerning how we feel about the archaeology of the island. Individuals or groups had identified features that were important to them and expressed these feelings in a creative and open way. I thought that this was a particularly useful place to start, because these creative works were not prompted by research projects to encourage people to think about what archaeological features are important to them; the inspiration occurred naturally and therefore gives an idea of the breadth of feature and landscape types that are important to our communities, plus the ways we feel comfortable expressing these feelings. This could then be used to help shape approaches to gathering further data about the importance of Ynys Môn archaeology to us, with the hope that these features can be mapped and identified as worthy of protection. The range of dates over which these projects were created can also help us follow how attitudes might change over time.
Furthermore, the map that we’re creating will include links to websites, images, videos and sound and therefore the creative works can be shared in these ways via the platform. This helps to reveal the thought behind the cultural projects beyond a point, line or polygon on a map, which is a step closer to conveying thoughts and feelings about a place via a digital mapping platform.
I very much hope that, once the Public Map Platform is fully established, all of us who spend time on Ynys Môn, or hear of relevant projects, will continue to add examples of cultural responses to the archaeological remains of the island, and to record the archaeological sites that are important to them.