Academic literature on the topic 'Produce trade – Barbados'

The Atlantic world became Britain’s main early imperial arena in the seventeenth century. Subsequent to Ireland, North America and the Caribbean were the most important zones of British settler colonialism. At the northern limits of settlement, around the Atlantic coast, the St Lawrence River, the Great Lakes and on the shores of the Hudson Bay, cod fisheries and fur-trading networks were established in competition with the French. This intrusion, while it had profound effects on the indigenous population, was comparatively constrained. Secondly, British settlements were founded in colonial New England from 1620. Expanding agrarian communities, based largely on family farms, displaced Native Americans, while the ports thrived on trade and fisheries. In the hotter zones to the south, both in the Caribbean and on the mainland, slave plantations growing tropical products became central to British expansion. Following in Spanish footsteps, coastal Virginia was occupied in 1607 and various Caribbean islands were captured from the 1620s: Barbados in 1627, and Jamaica in 1655. The Atlantic plantation system was shaped in part by environment and disease. But these forces cannot be explored in isolation from European capital and consumption, or the balance of political power between societies in Europe, Africa, and America. An increase in European consumer demand for relatively few agricultural commodities—sugar, tobacco, cotton, and to a lesser extent ginger, coffee, indigo, arrowroot, nutmeg, and lime—drove plantation production and the slave trade. The possibility of providing these largely non-essential additions for British consumption arose from a ‘constellation’ of factors ‘welded in the seventeenth century’ and surviving until the mid-nineteenth century, aided by trade protectionism. This chapter analyses some of these factors and addresses the problem of how much weight can be given to environmental explanations. Plantations concentrated capital and large numbers of people in profoundly hierarchical institutions that occupied relatively little space in the newly emerging Atlantic order. In contrast to the extractive enterprise of the fur trade, this was a frontier of agricultural production, which required little involvement from indigenous people. On some islands, such as Barbados, Spanish intrusions had already decimated the Native American population before the British arrived; there was little resistance.

Although some find it unpleasant and others find it flippant, the term ‘starchitect’ is theoretically useful for the sociology of architecture. It connects the world of the architect with the world of celebrity, and it con­nects architecture as an esoteric aesthetic practice with architecture as an industry in the public eye. Over the last few years, the term has become well established in the mass media and in trade publications, and it is also, slowly, starting to be taken seriously by scholars in and around architecture (e.g., McNeill 2009, Ponzini and Nastasi 2011; Knox 2012; Gravari-Barbas and Renard-Delautre 2015). The quest for fame, of course, is not new. Leon Battista Alberti, universal man, prodigious self-promoter of the early renaissance, and still an architectural notable, wrote an allegorical play on fame in the 1440s, recently reprinted (Alberti 1987). Neither Frank Lloyd Wright (1869–1959) nor Le Corbusier (1887–1965, Corb) shunned public­ity; both were what we would now call celebrities. Their rivalry is well documented, mostly in arguments around different conceptions of modernism—they never met. Noting that Wright called the Villa Savoye, one of Corb’s most celebrated buildings, ‘a box on stilts’, the cultural historian Nicholas Cox Weber, in his life of Corb, comments: ‘Today, it is an icon of twentieth-century design and has spawned countless imitations all over the world’ (2008: 288; see also Etlin 1994). Wright and Corb died around the time capitalist globalization was beginning to establish itself as a truly global system, and their own lives contained significant measures of socially produced iconicity. Although these terms were not used about them during their lifetimes, they can be considered proto-global and proto-iconic architects, by which I mean that the terms ‘global’ and ‘iconic’ are fruitfully employed today about them and their surviving architectural works. So, before considering the starchitects of our time, it is instructive first of all to delve briefly into the careers of these two most iconic architects of the first half of the 20th century. Wright and Corb both enjoy institutional legacies and continue to have plenty of enthusiasts.