Modern Solutions in a Heritage Setting: Clare College, Cambridge

When Jonah Balmford, TSA Riley’s Head of Project Management for the UK, arrived in Australia, he unpacked something unexpected. Tucked into his suitcase were 2 pieces of slate from Clare College in Cambridge, one taken from a roof laid hundreds of years ago and one newly cut. He brought them to show how past and present meet on a project where materials, decisions and judgement travel across generations.

Speaking to our NSW people, Jonah shared lessons learned from one of the most complex heritage projects his team has ever managed: the restoration and renewal of Clare College, a 17th-century College of the University of Cambridge set on the banks of the River Cam. It’s alive with students and still stands after 7 centuries of weather, ceremony and change.

“It looks peaceful from the outside,” Jonah said. “But it’s one of the most complex live projects we’ve ever managed.”

The work focused on Old Court – the historic centre of the College – where TSA Riley delivered new social and dining spaces, modern services and full accessibility for the first time in Clare’s long history. At its core was the creation of the River Wing and River Room Café, transforming previously segregated spaces into a shared, inclusive environment while preserving the craftsmanship and character that define the college.

The renewal works were delivered in a live environment and formed part of Clare’s preparation for its Septcentenary in 2026. For TSA Riley, the challenge was both technical and cultural. It meant modernising one of Cambridge’s most historic precincts without disturbing its rhythm or sense of place.

Hidden in the Walls: How the Past Shapes the Future

Clare College is nearly 700 years old, and its rhythms haven’t changed much. “You’ve got people with titles that have existed for centuries, and meetings that run exactly the same way they did in 1326,” Jonah said. “It’s a bit Hogwarts at times, but that’s the beauty of it.”

Working within that tradition meant respecting the past while preparing for the future. “You’re not choosing between preservation or conservation,” Jonah said. “On a job like this you need both working together.” The goal was to protect the building’s fabric and function, keeping it safe, accessible and alive for the next generation without losing what made it special.

That balance played out in many ways. When the team was asked to replicate the original roof, the work was about permanence. “We had to reopen a quarry that had been closed for decades,” Jonah said. “Same Jurassic-era slate, cut by hand, 28 different sizes.” Heritage, he said, is slow, deliberate work. “You’re working with materials that will outlive you.”

Elsewhere, the focus was on impermanence. The new River Wing Café was built a centimetre off a 1200s wall, designed to be fully reversible so it could one day be removed without leaving a trace.

Every decision leaves a legacy. “You open a wall and realise someone 200 years ago made a call you now have to live with,” Jonah said. “And the work you do today, someone else will uncover later.” Heritage isn’t static. It’s the transfer of judgement across generations.

The Bridge Between Eras

Delivering through a live, fully occupied College demanded precision. The site was never empty. “Students are there for 30 weeks, then you’ve got conferences, summer schools, and 12 weeks of exams,” Jonah said. “It makes programming interesting.”

Those 12 exam weeks were the toughest. “We can’t make any noise at all, but the contractor still has to keep working,” he said. Keeping the programme alive meant sequencing quiet and noisy work in layers to match the rhythm of college life. In 2025, Clare waived its 12-week noise ban for the first time, a move that required cross-stakeholder approval because the College sits within a conservation and heritage-protected precinct and shares boundaries with other live college environments, including King’s and Trinity Hall. Physical access was just as demanding. “Access at the front is under 3 metres wide. Access at the rear is near impossible,” Jonah said. “You have a bridge that’s the oldest on the river, limited to 3 tonnes, and it can only open 6 times a year.”

To move machinery and materials, the team built a new bridge across the River Cam – a 57-metre span craned into place overnight. “We had to close the river and in one night get it in place,” Jonah said. “At one point, Clare had the oldest and the newest bridges in Cambridge.”

It took layered programming, strict timing and constant coordination to keep construction moving in a place that never stood still.

The Psychology of Heritage Delivery

Heritage delivery, Jonah said, is as much about psychology as structure. “You have to go with the grain. Push too hard and you lose trust.”

That trust had to be earned again and again. “You bring the conservation officer into the room,” he said. “You show them what you’re doing and why. It keeps momentum, and it keeps everyone honest.”

The same approach guided relationships across the project – regular updates for the College, early conversations with planning, and bringing contractors into design while things could still move.

He laughed about how slow the process could be. “We’ve had moments where it takes 8 weeks just to sign off a drawing,” he said. “But that’s the cost of working somewhere that’s been standing since Chaucer was alive.”

Inside TSA Riley’s team, that slow pace brought its own challenge. “We’ve been working on Clare since 2018,” Jonah said. “That’s 3 full cohorts of students who’ve lived through scaffolding. You have to find ways to keep your own people energised too.” Milestones became small but vital celebrations – moments to mark visible progress when the finish line felt far away.

And at the centre of it all sits one quiet act of progress that captures what the project stood for: modernity and accessibility delivered with care inside centuries of history. A lift, cut discreetly into the stonework, opened the whole of Old Court to wheelchair users for the first time in Clare’s 700-year history. “You wouldn’t even know it’s there,” Jonah said. “That’s the part I’m proudest of.”

Lessons That Stand the Test of Time

Clare demanded every dimension of heritage delivery: governance, sequencing, contingency, communication and craft. Each phase built on the last, with enabling works, early contractor involvement and clear decision-making keeping the college operational. Progress relied on planning, collaboration and respect for process. The team anticipated risks, managed change before it slowed momentum, and found creative ways to solve constraints in a live, heritage-protected environment.

Most of all, it meant working with people. Trust had to be built and rebuilt, with the conservation officer, with planning, with the College community, and with contractors who joined early enough to influence buildability, sequencing and cost. Progress was slow, deliberate and sometimes frustrating, but every decision carried the same purpose: keep Clare alive, safe and accessible without interrupting the life that defines it.

By the time the hidden lift quietly opened Old Court to wheelchair users for the first time in its 700-year history, the philosophy behind the project was unmistakable. As Jonah put it, “That’s the trick with heritage. You add value, but you don’t scar the fabric.” Heritage isn’t about choosing tradition or change. It’s about holding both, one careful, deliberate decision at a time.