The Tradition and Symbols of a Place in Shaping Public Spaces through the Example of the Transformation of Litewski Square in Lublin, Poland

Abstract

Litewski Square is widely known as the place where the Lithuanian envoys camped to attend the Union Sejm in 1569. Today, Litewski Square represents a space of transformation. The urban public spaces of the square have been rebuilt several times, each instance delineating a distinct rendering of tradition and history. In this article, the evolution of the square is presented in order to analyse three main aspects. Over the years and under changing political conditions, its meaning, role, and function have shifted. Traditions and symbols that shape the space of the square have changed; these changing symbols have influenced how the meaning and functionality of the square have evolved over time. The research methodology of this paper is based on historical and interpretative studies. This form of analysis made it possible to identify the successive stages of the transformation of Litewski Square and, accordingly, in the context of changing political conditions, identify the elements that are important for the meaning of the square today. Litewski Square has evolved from an urban space with a clearly defined function to a multifunctional public space: from a memorial square into a modern space of leisure and entertainment. This paper argues that the accumulation of commemorative elements and directly adjacent recreational spaces give the impression of a lapidary, the constituent elements of which devalue each other. What this means is that, even as the number of commemorative symbolic elements have increased, their status is degraded, as well as that of Litewski Square as a whole.

1. Introduction

1.1. Research Topic—The City Square as a Research Subject

Squares and markets typically form the central public spaces of the modern city. They serve a cultural function and showcase historical rank, prestige, and symbolic importance. These spaces play a critical spatial and social role in the urban structure. In the space of the square, city dwellers connect to the heart of urban culture, history, and memory [1]. The integrative function of the city square brings people together, fosters relationships between them, and produces community—squares serve as a kind of community living room [2,3]. As a characteristic feature of the spatial structure of European cities, squares confer historical identity and symbolic values upon the city [4]. On the basis of their great spatial and social importance, city squares are considered key elements in the process of revitalising the urban structure of cities [5]. Accordingly, they are typically subject to transformations that correspond to the cultural and social conditions in which they are situated.

Previous research on urban squares has focused on issues such as the evolution of urban squares [6,7], typology [8,9,10], attractive and good public spaces [11,12,13,14,15,16], and revitalisation [17,18,19,20]. Currently, an increasing number of works deal with future forms of urban living and topical design trends in the context of current social, economic, political, and environmental problems. Among them are works that respond to current challenges such as the principles of sustainable development [21,22,23], climate change [24,25,26], and the COVID-19 pandemic [27,28,29,30,31]. Some of these works propose a set of key design principles that should be adopted [21,30,31]. A separate group of works consists of analyses of contemporary transformations of public spaces conducted on the examples of selected urban squares located in different countries and cultural regions [32,33,34,35,36,37]. These works show how modernity is interpreted and manifested and that the transformations carried out are often closely linked with a country’s shifting political and socio-cultural contexts [34,35,36,37].

The first squares were founded in cities primarily as places of trade. They became of central importance for social and public life in ancient cities. The agora in ancient Greek cities was a place for political activities, assemblies of inhabitants, political debates, and expressions of opinion [38]. Above all, the agora was a place for social interaction [39]. The forum in ancient Rome became the scene of public ceremonies, triumphal processions, public speeches, and criminal trials. It has become known as the most famous meeting place in the world and in all of history [40]. In the Middle Ages, the town square primarily functioned as a space of trade and exchange of information; subsequently, it was transformed into a place with a prominent representative function. Throughout the pre-industrial period, squares facilitated daily communication, social contact, and trade: the elements that gave each city its unique character [41] and which constituted the origin and logic of the space. By becoming places of commemoration for specific events and people, many public squares acquired a special social significance rooted in historical and political circumstances. This phenomenon is explained by Kevin Lynch’s theory. The perception process of a square depends on the meanings imprinted on our minds according to our memories [42].

At the same time, public spaces are being transformed in line with contemporary trends that affect the development of modern city squares. Among the most important trends are the fragmentation of the urban fabric and the degradation of public space, the privatisation of public space, and the revival of such spaces [43,44,45]. New and modernised contemporary city squares are frequently designed to be ‘living rooms’ for leisure and recreation, as well as places for occasional events. The temporal functions assigned to them, such as ceremonial (during festive occasions and celebrations), cultural (concerts, events, picnics), and commercial functions (occasional fairs and markets) [46], are intended to give the impression of a never-ending series of highlights.

On the other hand, public health and socio-economic crises change public space design, perceptions, use, and management in diverse ways across and within cities [30]. This requires new approaches in urban space design and management. As Sepe notes, good design of public spaces is closely linked to their mutability and adaptability in relation to the changing needs of citizens, environmental disasters, and pandemic emergencies [31].

The transformation of squares towards multifunctionality, the changes made over time, and the contemporary attempts to modernise them have not always been crowned with success. The continued “supplementing” of cultural traditions in response to changing social needs and political conditions often results in multifunctional spaces having a blurred tradition of place and a lack of clear historical genesis. Social and historical change over time mean that symbols previously considered important and present in the space of the square lose their significance and message. Accordingly, the cultural value of former monuments can be diminished. As the old traditions of place are erased and new ones introduced, the meaning of the square changes. New spaces emerge, often filled with new monuments, new signs, and symbols that create a kind of pantheon of memory. Yet, these spaces run the risk of commemorating mere abstraction, as relics of long-forgotten history get lost in the maze of contemporary information and meaning.

1.2. Litewski Square in Lublin as a Subject of Research

Litewski Square (Lithuanian Square or Plac Litewski) in Lublin is a clear example of an urban public space where the collision of history and the present has resulted in the emergence of multiple changes in the narrative of the space.

Although the origins of the square date back to the 16th century, it has only existed in its current form since 2017. Unofficially, it was first called Litewski Square in 1839 [47] (p. 26); previously, it was called guberniya square, timber yard square, or timber market [48] (p. 47). During the German occupation (1940–44), the square was called Adolf Hitler Square. After 1945, it was called J. Stalin Square, and, from 1956, it became Litewski Square once again. Within its historical boundaries, Litewski Square combined the traditions of a nobleman’s manor house, a military parade ground, and a representative city garden. Nowadays, together with the adjacent part of Krakowskie Przedmieście (Kraków Suburb) Street, which has been transformed into a promenade, Litewski Square appears to be a kind of utilitarian hybrid that fulfils both communication and recreational functions. Despite its name, Litewski Square, today, the space it is not a square in the traditional sense, but rather a large and open city square dominated by tall greenery and water ponds.

Above all, Litewski Square is the site of a legend that has taken root in the public consciousness. It is commonly known as the place where the Lithuanian nobility, who came to the Union Sejm in 1569, set up camp. Despite being rebuilt several times, the square has been a place underpinned with symbolic meaning for several hundred years; it is a powerful, representative space of tradition and history. Numerous monuments on the square form important elements of its composition [49]. They affectively point to its centuries-long history, yet the significance of the monuments has changed, in turn, also affecting the significance of the square itself. The social and cultural significance of Litewski Square as an urban public space has made it an attractive case study for several scholars [49,50,51,52,53]. It has also been discussed in papers on the urban development of Lublin [54,55]. The existing studies deal with the transformation of Litewski Square from a historical and preservation-related perspective. However, there is a lack of works analysing the square’s transformations up to the present, including the state of development after the modernisation works carried out in 2017.

The evolution of Litewski Square presented in this article illustrates the historically conditioned and socially important function of the city square. At the same time, it shows the changing importance of the place of tradition and symbolism and the blurring of the square’s historical genesis through the breakneck attempts to rebuild it, introduce new symbols, and imbibe the space with new meaning. The longue durée of time covered in our analysis (from the 16th century to 2021) and the way the history of Litewski Square is presented according to the changing narrative of the space (existing and newly introduced symbols, erased or removed old ones) represent a novel methodological approach to the study of Litewski Square. The paper also looks to make a contribution to wider discussions on the revitalisation of contemporary, historically conditioned city squares.

2. Materials and Methods

Using the example of the development of Litewski Square in Lublin (Figure 1), this paper offers an analysis of:

• the changing significance of the square, its role, and function over time under different political conditions;
• the changing traditions and symbols shaping the space of the square;
• the influence of the changing symbols on shifts in the function and significance of the square.

The research methodology of the paper is based on historical and interpretative studies. Historical-interpretive research, widely used in architecture and urban planning, was selected in so far as it reveals the relationships between the place of analysis and the context of past and present events [56].

The interpretative and historical research of the paper utilises a selection of source materials. It draws upon iconology and iconography to interpret graphical representations (historical postcards, photographs, maps) and historiography to deal with archival research (archive documents, journals, books). The research was conducted in the following steps:

• data search, collection, recording, and structuring;
• evaluation and analysis of the value of the evidence;
• clarification and interpretation of the evidence.

This approach to methodology is in line with the commonly accepted scope of historical-interpretive research [57]. Archival research and literature studies were complemented by fieldwork. The archival materials analysed (cartographic, photographic, iconographic, and others) were the collections of the Lublin Museum, the State Archive in Lublin (Lublin Digital Archive), the Mazovian Digital Library, the Digital Library of Maria Curie-Skłodowska University in Lublin, the National Digital Archive, the Digital Library of the H. Łopaciński Regional Public Library in Lublin, and the archives of the Regional Office for the Protection of Historical Sites and Buildings in Lublin. The source materials analysed included plans and views of Lublin from various historical periods and archival photographs and postcards of the city and Litewski Square, as well as articles in archival periodicals, including the Kurier Lubelski (published since 1860), Głos Lubelski, a daily newspaper (published between 1913 and 1939), Nowy Głos Lubelski (published between 1940 and 1944), and Ziemia Lubelska (published between 1900 and 1945). The oldest possible studies on the history of the city and Litewski Square were also used in the research [58,59,60].

3. The Evolution of Litewski Square

3.1. The Genesis—Square “at the Crossroads”

Litewski Square originated from the period of intense development of the city in the 15th and 16th centuries when the first new buildings were erected outside the city walls. Urban settlements, including churches and monasteries began to move to the suburbs. From the 16th century onwards, the business magnates of the city increasingly moved their mansions and palaces to the suburbs. The densest development was concentrated near the road of Krakowskie Przedmieście and the square formed at the fork of important roads to Kraków and Mazovia. The mansion of the Firlej family was built here, followed by the church of the Brothers Hospitallers of St. John of God. In the 18th century, other palaces were built on this site: those of the Sieniawski (Czartoryski) family and of the Lubomirski family, converted from the Firlej family manor house. The Capuchin church and the monastery were built nearby. In this context, over a period of about 200 years, the outline of the square now called Litewski was formed [61].

The conclusion of the Polish–Lithuanian Union was an important event in the history of the city. The Union united the two nations for almost two and a half centuries. According to tradition, the Lithuanian nobility, who had come to the Sejm, set up camp here. To commemorate this historic event, the square was named Litewski Square many years later. During the reign of Sigismund Augustus, a brick-and-stone obelisk was erected on the square, but it was destroyed in the early 19th century. A new monument, which still stands today, was erected in 1826 [61] (p. 56). It is not certain what that first monument looked like (Figure 2). From the chronicles of the Capuchins of Lublin, we can only discern that the façade of the quadrilateral tiled obelisk had a niche containing two stone statues representing Władysław Jagiełło and Queen Jadwiga [54].

It should be noted, however, that verifiable knowledge of the beginning of the tradition of a connection between today’s Litewski Square and the act of signing the Polish–Lithuanian Union in Lublin is problematic due to the absence of surviving original plans of the Lublin area around Krakowskie Przedmieście Street. The earliest sketch plan of the city made by C.V. d’Orken dates from 1715. Confirmation of this event—described in the allegedly lost church chronicle of the Fathers Capuchins—would (undoubtedly) have been the founding of a monument at this site by King Sigismund Augustus. However, no 16th- or 17th-century image of this monument has survived to the present day. No photograph from the 19th century has preserved the appearance of the square nor do we know of any drawings or paintings depicting the square. Although, that being said, 19th-century diarists claim that it existed until the ruins of the Church and the Hospital of the Brothers of St. John of God were demolished and the adjacent cemetery removed in 1819 in connection with the preparation of part of the site for the creation of a new “muster ground”. Regardless of the lack of any trace of an iconographic message, questions remain as to why the square is not marked on the maps of 1715, 1783, and 1816 if it was indeed an important symbol of the strength and glory of Polish statehood. The monument to the Union of Lublin was marked on the Józef Ryt Sławiński’s “Plan of the city of Lublin” of 1829, created three years after its foundation.

3.2. Muster Square—A Ground for Military Drill Display

The 17th and 18th centuries were not happy times for Lublin. The city was severely degraded in terms of civilisation and culture. This happened due to wars and numerous fires. As a result, the formerly well-kept suburban estates and palaces either fell into disrepair or repeatedly changed hands.

Paradoxically, only the era of partition brought peace to Lublin. In 1772, the territory of the Republic of the Two Nations (often called the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth) was divided among the neighbouring states: Russia, Austria, and Prussia. Under both tsarist and Austrian rule, Lublin once again became a city of growth. At that time, the centre of the city began to shift slowly from the Old Town to the west. It began with the decision to establish the new city hall outside the medieval city walls. The space of Litewski Square occupied by the monastery and the church of the Brothers Hospitallers of St. John of God, with the area of the former graveyard and the abandoned, partly devastated former Lubomirski Palace (built on the site of the Firlej manor), represented a potential space worth exploiting for the establishment of a new, autocratic power with the clear goal of political domination. By order of the tsarist governor, General Zajączek, the monks were relocated, and the monastery and church, abandoned by the Brothers Hospitallers of St. John of God, were demolished in 1818–1819. After the demolition and levelling of the monastery cemetery, a new muster ground was created on an area of about 2 ha, planted with Lombardy poplars and surrounded by railings (1821) not only to meet the needs of the army, but also to beautify this part of the suburb.

During the demolition of the monastery, the nearby obelisk commemorating the Polish–Lithuanian Union was destroyed. This was carried out on the orders of Józef Domański, then chairman of the Lublin provincial commission, who became infamous for his actions. The obelisk was pulled down and smashed to pieces together with stone statues [54].

In 1826, on the initiative of S. Staszic, a new monument to the Union of Lublin was erected in Litewski Square; it was made in the state foundry in Kielce.

It stood on a specially raised mound and was initially accessible to everyone (Figure 3). Over time, the surrounding area was planted with trees and shrubs and fenced in with a wooden fence. In the early 20th century, this was replaced with a stylish iron fence. A brick gazebo was erected at the monument for the governor, and the green square was cordoned off and made available only to him [54].

As a result of these development works, the area in front of the former Lubomirski Palace was turned into a garden with a monument to the Union. It was not, however, accessible to the public and, thus, could not be used by ordinary city dwellers. The building of the former palace was converted into the seat of the newly established Lublin provincial commission [62] and, after 1837, of the governor of Lublin. The planned development activities were crowned by the placement of the building of the ‘customs chamber’ at the south-western corner of the palace. As a result of an arbitrary decision by the tsarist governor choosing a new place for military drill displays, the space thus developed remained unchanged in form until 1870. As time passed, the square was no longer used for military drill displays, and the ‘Palace of the Guberniya’ was built on its northern boundary in 1859–1860, designed by Julian Ankiewicz and constructed in a post-classical style.

3.3. Guberniya (Governorate) Square—The Representative Square of the City

After the suppression of the January Uprising (1863), a Russification campaign was launched in eastern Poland. It encompassed the entire Russian partition of the former Republic of Poland. The Russians decided to build a monumental Orthodox church, the Cathedral of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross (Figure 4). It is important to note that only from that moment can we speak of “Litewski Square” as a uniformly designed public space that has the character of a representative city square. On this basis, it was not the Lithuanian camp, nor the memory of the alleged monument to the Union of 1569, but the defeat of the January Uprising that was the main reason for the creation of the square in its present form. Today, many of the people of Lublin reflect with bitterness that they owe the most beautiful square in the city to the January Uprising. According to Wrana, from this time on, we can recognise the synergistic meaning of the square as an important, central point in the contemporary development of Lublin. The aesthetic beauty of the square attracted significant and prestigious, urban, functional buildings, including hotels, banks, and offices of more than local importance [63]. During this time, the square was successively surrounded by many important buildings: to the north, the former Lubomirski Palace, constituting the seat of the governor, and the guberniya government building (1862); to the east, the European Hotel building (1867); to the west, the neo-Gothic customs chamber building with the district office; and, to the south, on the opposite side of Krakowskie Przedmieście, the Capuchin monastery and church and the post office building. The Monument to the Union of Lublin, which stands on a high mound, reminiscent of an ancient burial mound, retains its closed monumental composition and remains outside the composition of the street and the square (Figure 5). On the other hand, the square has been subjected to continual metamorphosis. The space of the square, which was transformed into a large, inner-city green square designed by Warsaw planner Z. Kisielewski, was divided into three separate parts that are compositionally connected to the Radziwiłł Palace and the cathedral. The square surrounded by avenues of pyramidal oaks was maintained in the landscape style in its expiring phase, with geometricised, ornamental elements [64] (p. 270). During this time, the monument to the Lublin Union was joined by a new symbol of Polishness: a Lombardy poplar (called a baobab), planted to commemorate the January Uprising (ca. 1880). The tree was planted in the southern part of the square and became an important symbolic element for many generations of Lublin locals.

The composition of the space, with its centre dominated by the central Orthodox church, crowned by four onion-shaped domes and a 43-metre-high tower, became one of the most important public squares in the city (Figure 6). The importance of the square as an urban space was underlined both by the status of the government buildings adjoining the square and by the newly built church, the titular Cathedral of the Orthodox Bishops of Lublin. The square retained this shape practically until the decision was made to demolish the cathedral. For many inhabitants of Lublin at that time, the decision to destroy the cathedral was symbolic of the enslavement of the Polish nation.

3.4. Litewski Square as a Commemorative and Relaxation Square

At the time of the completion and consecration of the cathedral (i.e., 1876), the square’s development appeared to be set. It was not until 1916, after the rise of the power of Austria, that a memorial stone was consecrated on the western edge of the square to commemorate the 125th anniversary of the Constitution. Initially, the monument to the Constitution of 3 May had the form of a modest sandstone about 150 cm high, which was given the form of a rough, cracked rock. In the interwar period, it was integrated with a decoratively trimmed hedge. In the 1950s, overgrown by bushes, it disappeared from the sight of passers-by. Major changes took place only after Poland regained its independence. In November 1918, the first post-war Polish government was installed within the walls of the former guberniya’s palace. One of the first decisions made by the Polish authorities in Lublin (as was the case in Warsaw and a number of other Polish cities) was to remove all remnants of the former partition era, especially buildings with a clearly symbolic character, regardless of their objective artistic value. In the case of Litewski Square, the decision to demolish the cathedral, which happened between 1924 and 1925, brought with it palpable disharmony, and the impression of a void or absence of an object that could render the space into a coherent composition (Figure 7). The perceived need to restore a landmark in the place of the removed building, and to return composition to the square, became readily apparent during the demolition works. The solution to the problem was apparently to be found in the all-Poland competition announced in 1925 for a comprehensive regulatory sketch of Lublin. The competition brochure included the requirement to put the Litewski Square in order by removing tall trees and exposing the palace buildings at its rear part, as well as the monuments to the Union of Lublin and the Constitution of 3 May. Unfortunately, no documentation on the works awarded in the competition has survived; it is possible that documentary evidence was destroyed during World War II. One can only speculate that the result of the competition was the development of the square, as it can be seen in the archival photographs from the mid-20th century and in the only inventory sketch (found so far) in the publication by N. Przesmycka [55] (p. 184).

In the 1920s, further events on the square turned the western and southern parts of the square into a nationalist pantheon. Even before the decision to demolish the cathedral, on 13 March 1920, on the occasion of the celebration of J. Piłsudski’s birthday, five linden trees named the trees of freedom were planted in Litewski Square as a symbol of freedom and the revival of the Polish state [65] (p. 2). In 1924, another monument in the form of a rectangular plaque was erected near the monument to the Constitution of 3 May: the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, in which the ashes of the defenders of Lviv rest. On a separate plaque near the monument, the following invocation was placed: O passer-by, bow down and pay tribute to the hero who fell for Poland.

According to information in the Kurjer Lubelski (Lublin Courier) of 23 April 1932 that same year, work began on developing the square and turning it into a large lawn beautified by various types of flowerbeds [66] (p. 3).

In 1944, a monument to the soldiers of the Polish Armed Forces in the West was erected in Litewski Square, on the spot where the model of J. Piłsudski’s monument had stood in 1935. After a few weeks, the monument was renamed “Brotherhood of Arms of Slavic Nations” in commemoration of the harsh intervention of the Soviet commanding office of the city. The monument, which had the form of an obelisk topped with three banners of the allied powers, was dismantled a few months later. In 1945, it was replaced by an ideologically more compatible monument to “eternal gratitude” imported from the USSR. On the day of its ceremonial unveiling, work began on redevelopment of the square, to be crowned by a rectangular pool with a fountain in its centre. In the new arrangement, the square was to be a uniformly composed plane intended as an urban public space and a place of rest for the working class freed from capitalist bondage. Only the front section, adjacent to the Krakowskie Przedmieście and paved with concrete slabs, remained reserved as a traditional area for occasional state ceremonies of a national and local character. In this way, curiously, the black poplar, which had been a living symbol of Lublin’s local patriotism (next to the Union Monument) since the day it was planted, was, perhaps unconsciously, highlighted when the square was redesigned (Figure 8).

Nonetheless, the renaming of the square in 1953 as Stalin Square perfectly reflected the political conditions of the time and the dependence of Poland on the USSR.

3.5. Litewski Square as a Site for Recreation and Leisure

In the post-war period, the former palace buildings integrally connected with the square were taken over by the new university, making the square a popular recreational and leisure area.

The decision to give Litewski Square a completely new spatial composition more in line with the aesthetic standards of the time was made in 1960. The previous three-part composition along the north–south axis was replaced by a development project completed in 1962 that adopted a two-part division on the east–west axis. This additionally highlighted the monuments from the side of Krakowskie Przedmieście Street.

The square, known to Lubliners for more than another half-century (until 2017), was officially opened on 22 July 1962 (Figure 9). The project was designed by two young architects from “Miastoprojekt-Lublin”, T. Bobek and T. Augustyniak, and continued the tradition of composition that began before 1870. It was a compromise solution that provided a clear division of the square into a recreational park and a representative section lengthwise on the east–west axis. This decision was novel; it had nothing in common with the division existing in the past, either in the era of partition or after regaining independence. The central point of the square’s composition was a fountain, albeit with its rectangular shape replaced by a hexagonal one. The remains of a geometrically laid-out lawn from the 1930s were replaced by hardened paths leading freely across the surface of the square. The original division into three plots separated by wide, paved alleys perpendicular to Krakowskie Przedmieście Street was completely erased. Over time, groups of freely placed trees were planted, producing the aesthetic of something resembling an urban grove.

Nonetheless, this did not apply to the entire space of the square. A small part of its surface, covered with decorative tiles, was left for a “representative square” connected to Krakowskie Przedmiescie, the boundaries of which were clearly marked by a low wall, stairs, and concrete planters. This representative part was accentuated by a monument to a Soviet soldier (Figure 10) and a solitary Lombardy poplar. In accordance with the ideology of the time, neither the monument to the Union, integrated into the space of the “forest park”, nor the monument to the Constitution of 3 May, which was hidden among bushes near the public toilet, were located in the representative part of the square. The pre-war plaque symbolising the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier was replaced by a new, sculptural composition which, according to the authorities of the time, conveyed a “correct” ideological message. It was created by Jerzy Jarnuszkiewicz and directly referred to the symbolism of the time and post-war tradition of the Polish People’s Army. The only remaining tradition of the square, which, so to speak, was already established, was the tradition of holding important ceremonies and national holidays in this part of the square.

3.6. Litewski Square, a Multifunctional Square

At the end of the 20th century, the need for a new ‘reading’ of the space became the basis for discussions about the role of Litewski Square and its actual purpose, both among professionals and city dwellers themselves.

There was no lack of radical ideas, such as the 1997 idea of local city urban planners to build a multi-storey car park under the newly constructed ‘slab’ of the square. The technical elements of the car park, such as ventilation, signalling, and information systems, were to be housed in the space of the square [49]. The fact that this project was abandoned was perhaps only due to the political and economic crisis that was unfolding in Poland at the time.

In 2000, a detailed study was prepared by the Lublin City Planning Studio of the Lublin City Hall: “Litewski Square in Lublin”. In 2007, the city authorities announced the preparation of a comprehensive project for the revaluation of Litewski Square. The Provincial Conservator of Historic Sites and Buildings issued preservation guidelines; of particular note was the directive to adopt the principle of continuity with limited recomposition.

Given the “legend” surrounding the square, as well as the post-World-War-II tradition of its use as an urban public space, worthy place of rest, and recreational space for the working class of the socialist state, it was not easy to formulate the terms of a competition that would update the square to 21st-century standards. In the context of the new political reality, the difficulty would be to meet the expectations of local authorities on the one hand and ordinary Lublin citizens on the other. A key issue was maintaining the square’s tradition of holding occasional ceremonies of a local or national character.

Finally, on 28 June 2010, a nationwide competition was announced to develop a concept for the revitalisation of Litewski Square in Lublin. The aim of the competition was to obtain a design that would combine the space of a civic forum with a meeting place of intimate character. At the same time, preserving and highlighting key symbolic and national values. As the main public space of the city centre, Litewski Square should serve as a ‘living room’ for the people and showcase and reflect the city’s image on a national and European scale. The formulated goal was to include all possible wishes of the city’s inhabitants while preserving both the space of the square and the surrounding buildings—they were declared a legally protected historic site in 1972. The defined competition terms [67] were a hybrid synthesis of conditions that presented an attempt to “record” the history of what had happened to the area within the boundaries of the today’s Litewski Square since the 16th century. This required a rigorous acceptance of a tripartite division, which was a consequence of the erection of an Orthodox church on this site, with its central location; the separation of part of the square’s space into a representative zone that had its compositional origins in the period of the Polish People’s Republic; and the preservation of the alleged “road to Wieniawa” in the composition of the square. The form and placement of the existing monument to the Polish–Lithuanian Union was considered unalterable due to its particular location on an embankment mound, in line with the axis of the former governorate palace and the Krakowskie Przedmieście [67]. In the context of these defined criteria, the requirement to preserve a certain amount of the existing tree stand in the area was a marginal problem, together with the mythical role attributed to the Lombardy poplar called “baobab tree” by the people of Lublin.

The first prize was awarded to a team of designers from the Krakow-based company SAO Investments. The work selected for implementation was consistent in creating a solution that effectively broke the “dichotomy” of Litewski Square, despite (or perhaps due to) its reference to the tradition of the “road to Wieniawa”. The arrangement of the programme reflected the intention to create two separate squares, one adjacent to the university buildings—in some way complementing their function by creating an external university forum—the other, adjacent to Krakowskie Przedmieście Street, with a purely commemorative function. The “diagonal road” was to form a kind of border between two new and separate squares within the boundaries of Litewski Square.

In the end, the results of the competition were eventually cancelled, because the project selected for realisation proved to be too radical. It did not have a purely recreational function but was intended to create a ‘living room’—an urban representation space. If realised, it would have been a complete departure from the tradition created during the communist era of the square’s purpose as a green square with monuments or even a departure from a city park.

A much more conservative concept, which was finally approved for implementation by the Provincial Conservator of Historic Sites and Buildings, was the result of the evolution of the competition project that initially won third prize. This design eventually became the basis for the modernisation of the square (Figure 11).

The basis of the concept was a new division of the square into a recreational zone with a playground and an urban promenade zone with four monuments. The compositional dominant of the layout was planned in the form of a multimedia fountain, which, due to its size, could be assumed to be a symbol of the new development of the square (Figure 11).

Eventually, the process of remodelling the Litewski Square, one of the most important places in Lublin, was completed in 2017 after many years of public debates, preparations, competitions, and design changes (Figure 12).

The changes that were made in the development of the square concerned both its accessories, the greenery, and the organisation and function of the space. Part of Krakowskie Przedmieście Street was transformed into a pedestrian zone and integrated into the space of the square. In the central part of the square, a multimedia fountain was built, which, due to its area and location, became the dominant feature of the composition and a symbol of Litewski Square’s contemporary image. The modern, interactive complex of water devices, capable of facilitating shows with spatial lasers and music, covers more than 1400 m². It is complemented by seven linear fountains located in the walkway of Krakowskie Przedmieście Street. The functional programme of the square also includes: an open-air exhibition venue, a seasonal café, a meteorological point (a station for observing weather phenomena), a row of chess tables for adults, and two playgrounds, one of which, the so-called ‘goat playground’, is a symbolic nod to the city’s coat of arms. The playground is equipped with various seats, which can be used by up to 650 people at a time. The existing historical monuments, symbols of Polishness, were complemented by new spatial forms and landscaping elements. These included: the installation of the digital bridge Lublin–Vilnius Portal (2020–2021); a standing spatial inscription “I Love Lublin”; a time capsule, a metal box buried under a poplar tree for 100 years with a message for future inhabitants of Lublin (2017); and an “independence” music bench (Figure 13, Appendix A—Figure A2).

The result is a radically new and not necessarily comprehensible space, devoid of a logical message. Litewski Square has become a multifunctional square with extensive entertainment and commercial functionality and the kind of modern aesthetic that denotes an apparently ‘attractive’ public space. It is an egalitarian space designed to meet a variety of needs that will surely find many followers. However, the question remains of whether the new design of the square is an appropriate redesign of a historically conditioned, symbolic, prestigious space.

The subsequent stages of the transformation of Litewski Square are a record of the metamorphosis from a square with a clear function to a multifunctional and multi-threaded square—from a memorial square to an entertainment square, despite the increasing number of elements with a symbolic message (

Table 1. Stages of the transformation of Litewski Square and the symbols in its space. Source: prepared by authors.

Name of the Square and Time Period	Symbols in the Space of the Square	Significance and Function	Development
Square “at the crossroads” (16th–early 19th century)	Brick-and-stone obelisk commemorating the Polish–Lithuanian Union (16th century)	Utilitarian square   Supposed camp site of the Lithuanian envoys who came to the Sejm to sign the Union of Lublin (1569)	Straw depot, timber market
Muster Square, other names: Mars square, Arms square (1819–1870)	New monument to the Union of Lublin (1826)   Demolition of the Brothers of St. John of God Church (1818–1819) for the purpose of constructing a military space	Military drills and parade square as well as green square	Duality of space   The main element of the composition is the monument to the Union of Lublin
Guberniya (Governorate) Square (1870–1918)	The Orthodox Church, the Cathedral of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross (1870–1876), a symbol of the domination of the tsarist power   New symbols of Polishness: black poplar (called baobab), planted to commemorate the January Uprising (ca. 1880); a monument to the Constitution of 3 May with the consent of the Austrian authorities (1916)   Previous symbols: the monument to the Union of Lublin	Representative square—the most important public space in the city, a green city square	Trichotomy of space   The orthodox church—composition’s dominant feature in the centre of the square   Prestigious buildings surround the square (government buildings such as the seat of the General Governorate)
Litewski Square, called Adolf Hitler-Platz during the Nazi occupation (1918–1945)	Demolition of the cathedral (1924–1925)—a symbol of enslavement and tsarist rule   New symbols of Polishness: the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier (1924), five linden trees symbolising freedom and rebirth of the Polish State (1920), model of the monument to Marshal J. Piłsudski (1935)   Previous symbols: monuments to the Lublin Union and the Constitution of 3 May, Lombardy poplar (called baobab)	Representative and memorial square	Decomposition of space after the demolition of the cathedral   Continuation of the tradition of locating prestigious functions around the square, the seat of the current authorities
Litewski Square, in the 1950s: J. Stalin Square (1945–1989)	Monument to the Brotherhood of Slavonic Nations/Monument of Gratitude to the Red Army (1945) (in place of the model of the monument to Marshal J. Pilsudski), a message of Soviet propaganda   Polish symbols: the monument to the Lithuanian Union and the monument to the Constitution of 3 May are hidden in the park part   Monumental Tomb of the Unknown Soldier—replacement of the slab with one acceptable for the government and dedicated to the Polish People’s Army   New function of buildings of former palaces—now university buildings   Fountain—a symbol of new development and devaluation of space	Recreation and leisure area—downgrading of the space   Blurring of the commemorative function	Division of the space into two parts: park part and representative part   Development project (1962)   Hexagonal fountain—the main feature of the composition
Litewski Square (1989–2022)	Dismantling of the Monument of ‘Gratitude’ (10 September 1990) and erection of the Monument to Marshal Piłsudski in its place (10 November 2001), a symbolic separation from the USSR   The existing symbols of Polishness: the monument to the Constitution of 3 May, the monument to the Union of Lublin, the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in a new form which is a continuation of the pre-war one (2017)   Removal of the Lombardy poplar, “baobab”, and planting of a new tree (2017) (a monument commemorating the tree is planned)   New symbols: a multimedia fountain, a playground with a goat (similar to that in the city coat of arms), an installation of a digital bridge “the Lublin–Vilnius Portal” (2020–2021), a time capsule—a metal box buried under a poplar tree for 100 years holding a message for future residents of Lublin (2017), an “independent” music bench, a standing spatial inscription “I Love Lublin”	Multifunctional square with a leading function of entertainment   Largely obliterated meaning of historical symbols	Litewski Square revitalisation project (2017–2018)   The main element of development—multimedia fountain

) (Appendix A—Figure A1).

4. Discussion

Multiple studies argued that there is an evident relationship between the meaning of a place, collective memories, and the experiences people have with others in urban public space [68,69,70,71]. The significance of a place increases further when the place reveals values that are important to the community, i.e., history, traditions, and symbols. One can find an examination of this phenomenon in the numerous works on the theory of place attachment. A place is a space that has meaning [72,73,74]. Place attachment, in turn, is commonly understood as a person’s attachment to a place [75,76,77], which, in turn, corresponds to concepts such as place identity, place dependence, place belongingness, place familiarity, and place rootedness [78]. Attachment to a place consists of the functions of a given place, the emotional ties that connect people to it, and the socio-cultural attributes that form the place [79]. Levels of attachment are influenced by spatial and social conditions such as age, gender [76], and the passage of time [80]. Attachment to a place contributes to shaping the place identity [70]. These two concepts are interrelated through socio-cultural factors and symbolic meanings [81]. In this regard, the identity of a place is defined as a set of characteristics that constitute the distinctiveness and continuity of a place over time [82] and, hence, its uniqueness.

The identity of a square refers to its physical and ecological markings, the mental and emotional meanings that people perceive in the given space, and the activities and functions of the place [73]. Each place has a unique character, which is referred to as the spirit of place or genius loci [83]. A place does not exist without an identity. On this basis, the public spaces in a city that can be called a place have an identity [84] (p. 66). Significant places, and major public urban squares can certainly be counted among such places, defined by an arrangement of signs, associated with a specific cultural code understood by all inhabitants, can prove to be a factor that integrates the collective around certain values [85] (p. 125). The strong orientation of the urban public square towards local people typically imbibes users with a strong sense of belonging. This phenomenon is related to the feeling of space and its saturation with users’ experiences. These experiences undergird the square with the meaning of a special place in so far as it is linked to memory—the history of events and shared participation in them [86,87]. Awareness of the history of a place increases attachment to it, but attachment to a place also promotes interest in the past of the place and one’s own roots [88].

Culturally significant urban public spaces typically have elements that symbolically highlight the history or recall the tradition of the given place. An integral part of public space is its information layer, which is encoded in symbols, signs, and traditions. Symbols convey non-material assets (idea, sensation, memory, tribute) in the form of a specific, material feature (building, statue, monument), whereas a symbolic place is an instrument of communication; it entails a social communion around a shared meaning and, thus, defines the communing, communicating group [89]. Memorial plaques and monuments placed in squares and people’s participation in events reflect national and global events [90]. Monuments preserve memory—they ‘remember’. They are also a ‘memento’ of the past, a testimony left to future generations by those who lived before them. They tell of heroism, tragedy, victory, and defeat. They refer to an important character whose life or deeds can be an example for others [91] (p. 5). The presence of monuments in space increases the importance of a place in so far as symbolic elements unite the local community around shared values and integrate and encourage participation in the history of a place, thus building its identity. According to Mueller and Schade [92], symbols are important for the sense of belonging; they connect to a place, and they are especially important for the development of the group identity of local stakeholders. However, their presence in public space can also be used as a means of political propaganda. Every significant change in power is associated with a change in the pantheon of symbols and monuments representing it. To topple the monuments from their pedestals is a hasty erasure of history, a disruption of the continuity of the city’s history, but one that cannot be avoided [85] (p. 126). Changes in symbols, the removal or erasure of older symbols, and the introduction of new symbols in their place effectively change the narrative of space and, accordingly, work to adapt the image of a given place to the current political situation. This was the case with the transformation of Litewski Square, which ultimately led to the abandonment of the commemorative character of the square in favour of an egalitarian and recreational functionality—despite the further accumulation of a number of symbolic monuments and spatial forms in the space of the square.

The tradition of symbolic commemoration of significant events in Poland’s history, which began in 1826 with the erection of the monument to the Union in the square and continued with the monument to the Constitution of 3 May (1916) and the monument to the Unknown Soldier (1924), has turned the square into a kind of national pantheon. A “hallowed” place was created that requires appropriate behaviour towards the monuments: remembrance and reflection. Even though this was apparently clear to the vast majority of people of Lublin during the Second Polish Republic, the erection of a monument to a Russian soldier in 1945 deliberately desecrated the square and thus deprived it of its prestige. A renewed attempt to return to this tradition was set in motion following the removal of the monument and its replacement by the monument to Józef Piłsudski. The decision taken in 1945 to completely redesign the square ended up having nothing in common with the former premise of a “commemorative square”. The concept of collective memory became merely a “trace of memory” and “force of habit” by the end of the 20th century. From this time, it has become apparent that the earlier form of Litewski Square has finally passed into history.

As Ożóg notes, monuments are a kind of mirror. What we put up on our squares and streets says a lot about us—about our value system and hierarchy, our taste in art, our sensitivity to certain ideological and historical themes. Therefore, any false tone in the monuments is so easily noticed by the community that lives near them. Very often this is the reason why they are destroyed or despised [91] (p. 5). Removing symbols and introducing new ones are expressions of defiance against the pre-existing narrative of space and its potential misunderstanding by contemporary actors.

Given the crucial role that historic squares and buildings play in the urban heritage of a given city, squares and buildings alike should reinforce each other’s identity in order to preserve significant values and the architectural integrity of the city [17]. In practice, this, of course, is not always the case. One of the challenges in revitalising historic spaces is a lack of positive response between the historic place and its context and environment [93].

Lithuanian Square is not the only case of a square influenced by political conditions. Nor is it the only case of a square whose recent transformation has resulted in multifunctionality and blurring of symbolic content. The meaning of a number of city squares has evolved to become less political and more pluralistic [32,35], as can be seen in such squares as Potsdamer Platz in Berlin, People’s Square in Shanghai, Civic Square in Shenzhen, and Taksim Square in Istambul. Such a trend, while seemingly safe, can generate spatial conflicts. On the one hand, there is a growing interest in preserving the historical values of city squares, while, on the other hand, there is pressure to redevelop them in order to maximise economic returns and provide a wide range of entertainment. Privatisation and commercialisation are considered irreconcilable with the concept of public domain, but that discrepancy is less absolute than it might seem [94] (p. 41). At the same time, it is becoming necessary to adapt their development to the principles of sustainable development, including reducing energy consumption and greening [21,22,23].

It is worth protecting given elements and features of space that are exceptional and uniquely able to create a specific genius loci of the city [95]. At the same time, one must be careful not to fall into the trap of using the word ‘memorial’ to describe, for example, an old building (“historical memorial”), a tree several centuries old (“natural monument”), or a gravestone (“funerary monument”). Perhaps this is why many people are satisfied with a monument in the form of a stone with an engraved plaque on its front or a vertically erected, polished slab with an engraved inscription [91] (p. 5).

The final development and character of Litewski Square may have been determined in and through the contemporary logics of commercial culture. This, to some extent, explains why Litewski Square went from being an urban public space with such strong symbolic connotations to being an exclusive space for commercial entertainment and consumption. The contemporary square’s superficial symbolism (e.g., replicating a hypothetical trace of the road “to Wieniawa”) was replaced by a local attraction: a multimedia fountain, which, due to its size, became the dominant feature of the bisected space of the square. The dilemma of whether Litewski Square is a square, a city park, or simply the byproduct of the demolition of the cathedral in 1924 was solved by connecting the so-called representative part of the square with Krakowskie Przedmieście Street, which was then effectively turned into a ‘promenade’. In this way, the square within the borders listed in the development plan ceased to exist. Although it was essentially (in its internal division) a repetition of the 1962 plan, the complete blurring of the boundary between the former street and what had previously been its borders radically changed the spatial relations of the square. Litewski Square was divided into two functionally different and now entirely independent parts: the representative part (from the south) and the recreational part from the north.

In the wake of the longue durée of urban transformation noted above, a critical question comes to the fore. Is the “proscenium” of the former square—its functionality as an urban stage for various festivals and celebrations—now only present in the form of a fragment of a city pavement that passers-by walk past indifferently, busy with their own affairs and brushing against the monuments grouped there? Or do the contemporary monuments of the square themselves make this space sacred? Placed in the “front” part of the city promenade, it would appear that these monuments merely function as a collection of toy-like figurines, more or less visible in the space but received without reverent attitude towards their symbolic message.

5. Conclusions

This analysis of the transformations of Litewski Square shows that the meaning and functions of the square have changed over the longue durée since the square’s original genesis as an urban public space. The functionality and symbolism of the space have been influenced significantly by the political conditions and the desire of the rulers of the time to manifest their power.

The stages of Lithuania Square’s transformation were indicated to be:

• Utilitarian square;
• Military drills and parade square;
• Representative square;
• Representative and memorial square;
• Recreation and leisure square;
• Multifunctional square.

Characteristic and symbolic elements of the development were identified for each stage of development. Each of the indicated stages was associated with a specific function and significance of the square influenced by political conditions. The main elements of the square’s composition, the location of buildings with a specific function within the boundaries of the square, and the placement of elements with symbolic significance within the square reflect the current rank and importance of the square.

The coherence and logic of the message of the individual elements are a prerequisite for the preservation of the distinctive character of the space and the continuation of the tradition of the place. In the case of Litewski Square, both the excessive number of elements and their contradictory messages have not only disturbed the space and its narrative layer, but also contributed to its unification and the loss of its genius loci. The accumulation of commemorative elements and directly adjacent recreational spaces give the impression of a lapidary, the constituent elements of which devalue each other. What this means is that, even as the number of commemorative symbolic elements have increased, their status is degraded, as well as that of Litewski Square as a whole.

The impact of political conditions on the development of the square, the successive transformations and changes in its narrative, and the evolution towards egalitarianism of the space observed in Lithuanian Square are noticeable in the public space of other cities around the world as well. The problem of increasing multifunctionality and blurring of space specificity is not a local problem. However, its solution should be sought in local conditions and in-depth historical studies preceding revitalisation processes.

The changing function, significance, and politicised narrative message of the square over the centuries have lost the original coherent and homogeneous character of the space. The essence of the transformation, instead of emphasising and highlighting, redefines, shallows, and, as a result, through a profusion of symbolism mixed with recreational elements, loses the status of a prestigious square, becoming a sad compilation of a playground with an “avenue of merit”.

The final concept for the development of the square, which retained all the compositional principles adopted in the 1962 project, the elements of which were given a novel, post-modern form, determined its aesthetic form and ‘dichotomous’ function for years to come. The Lithuanians, who, according to legend, were said to have set up camp on the site of the square to celebrate the moment of signing the Union with the King, have been almost completely erased from the symbolic narrative of the space.