Enormous urban growth—and with it, the rapid transformation of the urban environment—took on a new dimension with the onset of industrialization. These tangible transformations gave rise to numerous new challenges and a multifaceted, ongoing debate about central issues that became increasingly pressing with modern urbanization. Among the most important questions were those concerning the design of a livable urban environment. How could the city be and remain a place worth living in, and how could the ever-changing conglomerate of people gathered within it be transformed into a community? What concerns people today in various fields, such as politics or urban planning, was already, in earlier eras, an unmistakable backdrop to the changing urban landscape. In the rapidly expanding metropolises of the 19th century, one answer to these questions lay in the attempt to bring the countryside into the city. A look at Western metropolises such as London, New York, Madrid, and Barcelona illustrates the internationally observable effort at that time to counterbalance or even eliminate the negative aspects of urban change by establishing parks that were accessible to all residents. Spending time in the city’s green spaces was intended to bring calm, grounding, strength, and healing to both individuals and urban society as a whole, thereby ultimately helping to stabilize existing social conditions.

The Ruhr region was once Germany’s industrial heartland par excellence. Then, as a result of the coal and steel crises, came what is euphemistically described as “structural change.” Today, the Ruhr region promotes itself as a “region of industrial culture.” In this process, old identities and the region’s former image have been undergoing a transformation. How exactly are structural change, identity change, and image change interconnected in the Ruhr region? How are not only industrial facilities changing, but also everyday life, self-perception, and public image? The research project “Industrial Culture, Image, and Identity” explored these questions using the Zollverein Coal Mine—Europe’s largest coal mine, now a World Heritage Site—as a case study to examine perceptions of its transformation. Approximately 150 interviews conducted in 2003–2004 and 2006 with residents of the surrounding neighborhoods, former employees of the Zollverein coal mine and coking plant, visitors to the World Heritage Site, former migrant workers who stayed even after the jobs had disappeared, visionary new users of the Zollverein site, local politicians, and business owners form the basis of the study. Their opinions, attitudes, wishes, hopes, and fears reflect the shift in the mindsets of the residents of a region undergoing structural change.

In the late 1950s and 1960s, economic restructuring began in the Ruhr region as a result of the coal and steel crisis. Using promotional brochures from various cities in the metropolitan region, this research project examines how these cities sought to counteract the associated industrial and urban decline and find ways out of the crisis. The most important strategy was to attract both new residents and new industries by projecting a positive image. The message conveyed by the cities of the Ruhr region was that, despite its industrial heritage, life in the Ruhr region was just as good as anywhere else. Urban green spaces, municipal infrastructure, and cultural institutions were intended to ensure this. Nevertheless, industry could not be denied in a region that was still seen as more than just a synonym for coal and steel. Sometimes colorful, sometimes gray, always a bit contrived: this is how the brochures from that era often appear. In doing so, they reflect a snapshot of the regional identity amid structural change. Analyzing them brings to life the spirit of the Ruhr region as it transitioned from an industrial region to a region of industrial culture.

Factory tourism is generally known to the public primarily as a contemporary phenomenon, such as tours of breweries or automobile manufacturing plants. In fact, however, factories in German-speaking countries had already been increasingly becoming places of tourist interest as early as the 1890s. Just as traveling to foreign countries did, exploring the unknown right on one’s own doorstep became particularly appealing to the middle class. This is evidenced not only by richly illustrated reports in magazines but also by tourist materials such as postcards bearing greetings from the factory, descriptions of tour itineraries for visiting groups from company records, and menus for multi-course banquets that some companies hosted for their guests. As a result, factory visits came to be regarded on par with trips to exotic countries, modern metropolises, or visits to classic attractions such as museums. The research project reveals that, in addition to curiosity about the foreign and the unknown, the visitors’ motivations included a search for their own identity within the unfamiliar surroundings of the factory halls. The transformation of the factory—a place of work—into a tourist attraction created a new tourist space in which the bourgeoisie reinvented itself in the face of the dual challenge posed by the increasingly aggressive demands of social opponents and by the crises emerging during the transition to modernity. In this context, the encounter with technology became a spectacle focused less on factual understanding and more on the extraordinary personal experience.

The industrial mode of production, which began in the 18th century, brought about a truly revolutionary transformation over the course of about a hundred years in the lives of people, which until then had been uniform and manageable for a long time. The resulting profound changes in economic activity, work, housing, community life, and even ways of thinking continue to shape our present day. Where did the innovations that were to transform life so fundamentally come from? Why did this development take hold in one particular country in Europe and not in another there or on a different continent? How did the changes in the economy spill over into other areas of life, such as housing, transportation, communication, social structures, and social interaction? Industrialization began in Great Britain, but this by no means predetermined its subsequent course in countries such as Belgium, France, and the German states. Each country underwent the process under its own unique circumstances. This publication examines the course of events in Great Britain and the German states—or the German Empire—to trace, from a cultural-historical perspective, various aspects of industrialization and its consequences, which had led to a “nervous age” by the end of the 19th century at the latest. The historical account is complemented by an examination of the key controversies within the field of historical scholarship at the time.

This research project focuses on hearing and the (auditory) experience of sounds in the three industrial cities of Erfurt, Essen, and Birmingham. It examines discourses, practices, and bodies of knowledge concerning sensory perception and their transformation between 1880 and 1960. Making noise is understood here as a practice that signifies power and domination. It can take on economic, legal, medical, social, cultural, technological, or political dimensions. Its content stems from experiences, memories, and encounters with sound. These created diverse bodies of (auditory) knowledge that have shaped the human understanding of noise and sound right up to the present day. They arise in phonotopes, travel along auditory pathways, and contain acoustic elements that are imbued with specific values through social negotiations. Therefore, they are not simply numerical values of sound energy moving within a space for action, work, or leisure, or between people. Nevertheless, the social dimension of hearing, the desire for silence, and the experience of noise were consistently overlooked in decision-making for a long time. Among other things, this promoted the standardization of limit values based solely on (minimum) criteria that hardly restricted—or only did so with a time lag—economic exploitation and profit maximization. For a long time, the protection of noisy machinery was considered more important, both socially and economically, than the protection of citizens’ health. Against this backdrop of tension, the project investigates how conflict-ridden negotiation processes surrounding the various acoustic spaces in a city developed.

In his 1896 book *Work and Rhythm*, the Leipzig economist Karl Bühler developed a concept regarding the significance that can be attributed to time-oriented and metered movements in the processes of goods production. According to this view, rhythm organizes time and space, connects similar and contrasting elements, and regulates speeds and sequences. Tact, in turn, divides rhythms into segments. Their repetition allows for the calculation and prediction of certain processes. Building on these purely technical processes, broader concepts of rhythm and timing emerged, such as symmetry, uniformity, and predictability. These can be examined interdisciplinarily in the context of their temporal, spatial, social, cultural, and communicative functions. In the context of Erfurt’s space-time research, 13 scholars examined phenomena of rhythm and timing from various disciplinary perspectives. Their findings were published in 2018 in an anthology edited with the participation of the Chair, represented by PD Dr. Heiner Stahl. Thematically, the studies focus on cultural-historical, literary, and medical analyses of rhythms and timing within a spatiotemporal context. For example, early modern trade fair calendars are examined in relation to trade and the seasons; the seasonal development of tourist destinations is explained using models; psychiatric evaluations are interpreted in terms of treatment routines, the temporality of improvisation in jazz music is analyzed, and the disruption of rhythms in public transportation due to the effects of war is discussed.

In the 1960s and 1970s, many European cities began to reinterpret their urban spaces through demolition and new construction. The resulting physical and symbolic structure of a city was of great significance for its identity and image. This often remains true to this day, as it has shaped urban life in diverse ways for decades. Within the context of both physical and cultural urbanization, various historical groups of actors appropriated urban space both structurally and mentally. Different perspectives and ideas competed with one another, negotiating positions of power and control. The aim of the project is to explore this process in various European cities. On the one hand, the focus is on the negotiation process behind various construction projects: What visions of the city were realized through construction measures? How were they legitimized? What power structures are revealed in them? On the other hand, the project aims to shed light on the feedback loops between the built urban landscape and the behavior of the population: How did the built image of the city change people’s self-image? How did it alter their spatial behavior? And how, in turn, did this spatial behavior change the symbolic image of the city or of specific neighborhoods? Drawing on various theories of space based on the work of Henri Lévi-Bruhl and Michel Foucault’s reflections on power structures, this study will employ discourse analysis to examine urban self-representations, administrative reports, urban planning documents, and articles from the local press. These will be supplemented by interviews with members of the various stakeholder groups.

During the Nazi regime, the acoustic control of public space had a technological dimension, a propagandistic dimension, and a dimension aimed at warning the population in the event of a disaster. Radio masts and loudspeaker systems created public “auditory spaces.” Although temporary, these spaces could be repeatedly recreated; residents were turned into listeners and brought together, with coercion and consent equally shaping these formations. From the distracted, disinterested “mass” of people emerged a “people” who listened and heeded speeches. The underlying motives and interests of local politics, companies in the broadcasting industry, and various Reich ministries form the core of this research. The project highlights which (sonic) aesthetic concepts guided the sound design, mood-setting, and auditory control of citizens during the Nazi regime—and what effects this had on their experiences, expectations, and memories of listening. Alongside propaganda as a significant factor, the economic exploitation of these acoustic spaces also plays a role. On the other hand, the offerings were well-received by the public, who were willing to make use of them. The resulting scope for action available to the various groups of actors is understood as part of a complex interplay between the regime and other active individuals, organizations, and companies. Thus, the project contributes to an understanding of Nazi rule and its acceptance among the German population.