The scientist who asks what remains

This question has been with her for many years. Born in Canada, Blokker studied art and architectural history in Montréal and Toronto, and later at the renowned Institute of Fine Arts at New York University. Looking back, she says she actually wanted to become a classical architectural historian. But then something changed. Antiquity, the Middle Ages, the Renaissance: it was all so far away and ultimately beyond our knowledge. What did it have to do with us, why should it interest us?

The turning point came with her dissertation on the reconstruction of Cologne's Romanesque churches after the Second World War. What initially seemed like an art historical topic turned out to be a much bigger question: why does a society in deep crisis invest so much energy in the reconstruction of centuries-old buildings? How does it decide what stays and what is abandoned? And what does that say about itself?

"These churches were not simply restored," recalls Blokker. "They were emotionally and politically charged. They stood for continuity, for hope, for life after the break."

Since then, she has focussed on cultural heritage not as an object, but as a relationship. As something that people actively create - often unconsciously, sometimes highly politically. In her research, she shows how the past is used to stabilise the present, create identity or negotiate conflicts.

Blokker is not a detached observer. She speaks openly about the fact that research is always personal. "I don't believe in neutral science," she says, "I believe in conscientious, reflective science."

What drives her is not nostalgia, but responsibility. Responsibility towards the people for whom places and buildings have meaning and represent a living environment. Towards stories that are easily overlooked. And towards future generations. Especially in times of climate crisis, structural change and social polarisation, she sees her profession as necessary - perhaps more necessary than ever.

"The heritage is not ballast," she says, "it is a resource. Ecologically, culturally and emotionally."

Despite her international career, Blokker remains down-to-earth. She listens, asks questions, doubts. Students describe her as demanding but encouraging. Someone who does not prescribe enthusiasm, but exemplifies it. For her, teaching is not a sideshow, but part of her academic responsibility.

In her private life, she feels particularly attached to certain places. She still calls the Romanesque churches in Cologne "her" churches - not out of a sense of ownership, but out of a relationship. "They taught me that buildings can carry memories," she says, "and that we should be very careful when deciding to throw something away."

In the end, it all boils down to a simple but uncomfortable question - a question that Johanna Blokker asks again and again, in lectures, seminars and conversations: "What is so important to us today that we still want to use it tomorrow?"

It is this question that drives her research. And perhaps that is precisely why it touches so many people.