Valuing Material Cultural Heritage: Engaging Audience(s) Through Development-Led Archaeological Research

1 Introduction

We understand archaeology as the scientific discipline that aims to reconstruct the history of societies based on materiality (Quirós Castillo, 2013, p. 20; González-Ruibal & Ayán, 2018). But, if we analyse whether it is a suitable resource for engaging audience(s), generating heritage links, and proposing didactic resources for educators, we should first understand what is required of us and what purpose society grants to heritage and archaeological investigation in order to determine our level of usefulness.

In this sense, to understand what value this discipline has in society, we should first look at the pan-European regulations, those that have set up the minimum basis for design regulations and the application of our practice.

As stated in the Valletta Treaty,^[1] the notion of heritage encompasses everything that has meaning for society and communities, and these communities are, precisely, responsible for specifying what heritage is. This is, no doubt, an innovative approach to heritage at the time – and therefore to the archaeological one – towards its democratisation and socialisation, with society becoming a major actor in its definition, as an active agent in its valorisation, and not only as a public or recipient. In terms of archaeological practice, the introduction of this idea led to a shift towards a more selective approach to excavation, abandoning the primacy of extensive techniques and moving towards the confluence of different archaeological practices and narrative constructions.

Because of this, what is known as the Amersfoort Agenda,^[2] in 2014, sets up the duty to “embed” archaeology in society. This means, first, securing and ensuring public participation and the need to integrate archaeology into education. A second line of action stresses the need to be conscious, explicit and transparent in the decisions taken and implemented in the management of archaeological heritage, while the third one focuses on the management of the archaeological record in the digital age.

Finally, we must mention the European Heritage Strategy Twenty-First Century proposal.^[3] It is based on three pillars: (i) the social component of heritage (understood as participatory governance and that heritage is a resource in social cohesion and in the development of democratic values); (ii) the economic and territorial sphere (working on the relationship between heritage and territorial development, sustainable development through local and regional governance, and, especially, working on strategies that avoid the heritage homogenisation – that is, mass tourism and gentrification; and (iii) finally, the scope dedicated to knowledge and education (relationship among heritage, shared knowledge, and education).

These regulations, – which are not compulsory, set up the need to involve society in our activity, although they show the specificity of having to be aware of what this society expects, needs, and values from our practice. In terms of decision-making, conditions, criteria, and execution of work, society must be aware at all times of how we act and why. All this should base on easy and universal access to the archaeological documentation generated and the one generated in the future. The aim must be to generate open and shared knowledge, and for this to be possible, archaeology has to integrate into education, generating collaborative networks between the sectors involved to actively take part in society (Campos-Lopez, 2019a) (Figure 1).

Figure 1

Treaties and legislation at a pan-European level.

Thus, thanks to the evolution of the concept of heritage in recent decades, we now consider that the ultimate reason of cultural assets is none other than its benefit to society (Querol, 2010). Thereupon, this should include free access to the published content and the data generated, something that matches the postulates of Open Archaeology (Edwards & Wilson, 2015), as well as the development of heritage and identity links. With this scope in mind, archaeology, understood as a science that works in favour of this heritage (Criado-Boado, 2013; Quirós Castillo, 2013), should indeed-participate in these purposes.

Therefore, if the ultimate reason for our archaeological heritage is to be “of benefit” to society, the scientific work that gives meaning and fills this heritage with scientific content should have as aim to revert it to society through channels that will allow this flow and unimpeded access to knowledge, management, and practice. Neither has academia nor professional archaeology, constrained by the limitations of the market and/or administrations, set a clear goal for these new development strategies to be improved. There has always been a tendency to scorn the results dissemination, considering that it takes away valuable time from research, which is supposed to be the main purpose of archaeology, keeping that elitist conception quite common in past centuries. These dissemination strategies will be carried out, only, if there is time and resources (most of it, funds) to do so; understood as an appendix to the important part. However, we advocate that the true aim of the academic activity we carry out should be, generating tools that enable this transfer, since these audiences need to understand what we do, in order to be understood. Research should be landed for society’s well-being and financed, even more so, if possible, in times of adverse economic conditions (Campos-Lopez, 2019a; Monckton, 2021; Vaquerizo Gil, 2017, 2018).

As Carver pointed out (2011, p. 142), archaeological research is a creative activity for inventive people. Every project, regardless of whether it is small or not, is a challenge to curiosity and our intellect. For researchers, he continues, the most important points that enhance what we do in fieldwork are the goals we set for ourselves, the physical terrain in which we move, and the attitudes of the community towards our approaches, that is, the social context in which we work. These three pillars should always interweave together in any project. However, unfortunately, despite what this author writes down, this is not the case these days. In the current model, the “social context” is not taken into account most of the times (Alonso González & Aparicio, 2011), it is not part of the project from its origin, it is not understood as a recipient of this activity in most cases; the work is finished when the report is delivered and there is full permission to build. This circumstance becomes clear in the case of development-led archaeology (DLA).

So, having analysed the ultimate purpose of heritage, it is quite interesting to approach the implementation of a concept such as DLA and whether it is compatible with these ideas of society benefit, community participation, and the engagement of audiences and educators.

Nevertheless, if we try to give a definition to Preventive or Development-led Archaeology it is a much complex issue. A first approach to a definition, the one provided by Martínez Díaz and Querol (2013, p. 153), in which DLA is undertaken to offset the impact that development (such as the building of new houses, schools, or roads) has on our historic environment. This practice is often paid for with our taxes, sometimes by private money, it is carried out by law, and it can involve different audience(s) – it is already carried out in public view (in our cities, when they want to build a new building, etc.), in common and open spaces where it shares presence with people’s daily activities. It is the archaeology that makes people stand behind the fences; it is done in our building when a lift is installed, that is said to “paralyse” the metro works or to be the “surprise” when building the cultural centre of the neighbourhood. It is a discipline that should implement research-action strategies based on the strength of this – physical – proximity to people (Criado-Boado, 2017). However, being the archaeological practice closest or nearest to society, the one that is most seen in our daily lives, it is, at the same time, the one that society suffers the most. Paradoxically, it is distanced from society in terms of the generation of historical knowledge (Criado-Boado, 2016), dissemination, heritage significance, and, especially, the implementation of heritage education strategies, which should be the way to connect the two spheres (Campos-Lopez, 2020b).

Dissemination is the capacity of making something available to the public – which would allow its comprehension, benefit, and enjoyment – and this access should be improved through proper channels for society and audience(s) (Querol, 2010). We refer to the processes by which heritage elements are communicated and made known to a group of people (a community), normally developed in the non-formal and informal education sphere (Cuenca-López & Martín-Cáceres, 2009). These definitions, in our opinion, fit perfectly with the characteristics and elements that define DLA and, therefore, its archaeological practice.

In this sense, and when contemplating this communication with different audiences and different publics, we must consider that archaeological heritage is one of the most complex ones in order to carry out dissemination strategies, although it has a great pedagogical value. In particular, archaeological heritage is a trickier one if we work on its visualisation, on its dissemination, and understanding. Especially those strategies related to its transmission, derived from the use of a positivist and unidisciplinary approach, as well of a single narrative point of view (Fredheim & Watson, 2023; Vicent et al., 2015); that is, those derived from the excessive linking of the archaeological remains and artefacts with a “monument” and with the great societies of the past (Meseguer et al., 2018).

However, nowadays, there are increasingly novel approaches in which the interdependence of various agents and disciplines, as well as the method and the sources consulted, has increased weight to go over this positivist approach. Currently, this perspective is giving way to new methodologies that consider the interdependence of several factors, the methodology used, and sources consulted, and, at the end, the implementation of more interdisciplinary interventions (Martín-Cáceres, 2012; Campos-Lopez, 2019a).

In other words, this dissemination and socialisation process approach is done in terms of communication of the scientific research carried out (how the work is done) and the knowledge obtained (what the results are). This strategy reinforces the value and possibilities of archaeology, as it allows us to understand our past based on our society’s material culture, which should be the final aim of its study. This perspective will allow us to experience and generate links with this past, in addition to developing a sense of belonging to our community (Fontal & Martínez, 2016) and to our environment, carrying out processes of heritagisation and (re)signification of these assets (Corbishley, 2011).

Considering all this, it is undoubtedly necessary to propose strategies for education and awareness rising in archaeology and archaeological heritage to reach the audiences, being aware of its significance and importance, generating attitudes of active protection, conservation, and valuation. Like any type of property or heritage, how we understand and value these elements depends on the education that society receives about them and the links that are generated around it depends on the processes of heritagisation that are generated (Campos-Lopez, 2019a; Fontal, 2013; Gómez-Redondo, 2012).

This heritage and archaeological significance through education strategies are especially necessary in research on material culture and on archaeological record. This approach must be the driving force for society to be aware of and to take part in it, and, furthermore, it should be the way to understand archaeological heritage as a finite resource and be consistent within the need for its preservation and conservation.

Therefore, the socialisation of this archaeological heritage, in addition to generating links, identity, memory construction and providing a critical relationship with the present, must also aim to generate an educational and pedagogical content that builds a specific discursive practice that addresses social needs and integrates knowledge and action (Corbishley, 2011; Vienni Baptista, 2014). Thus, both the socialisation of the scientific knowledge generated, understood as a necessary parameter for the promotion of social participation and democratisation in decision-making, and the use and benefit of the results will lead us to a social use of heritage, understood as a consequence of the processes of socialisation and heritagisation described.

The use of the knowledge generated in a scientific or academic level can lead us to strategies linked to heritage education developed in the formal educational sphere. In fact, if these processes take place during the school stage, there is a greater probability of success (Collado Moreno, 2016). However, it will be the use and enjoyment of this archaeological heritage, linked to heritage education found in the informal sphere where preventive actions have real potential. Thus, it is in this frontier space, with structures that are less rigid and straitjacketed than formal settings, where we can develop initiatives with an important level of success (Campos-Lopez, 2019b).

This is the commonplace in which, for example, the proposal here presented takes place. This change of paradigm and the fact of considering the potential of the research itself by connecting audiences, heritage and education, reinforces the public benefit and social value, as well as the possibilities of archaeological heritage, as it allows us to understand our past from the knowledge of its material culture. All of this will allow us to experience and generate links with that past, as well as develop a sense of belonging to our community (Fontal & Martínez, 2016; Ibañez-Etxeberria et al., 2015) and territory.

As a case study, we propose that the project carried out in the Besoitaormaetxea farmhouse in the town of Berriz in Biscay (Spain) deals with one of the most characteristic heritage elements of the Basque Country. We propose this example as a case study that has generated mechanisms for the participation of the audiences (community), the construction of heritage, and educational strategies for dissemination through research into material culture. The starting point is a DLA intervention (i.e., the documentation of the remains that are going to disappear because of the imminent reconstruction of the house). Nevertheless, in the end, it became a process of open socialisation of the research results, something that we understand as the best preventive conservation action.

This article is divided into two parts. On the one hand, the description of the context, the archaeological work carried out, and a brief approach to the results, and on the other hand, the socialisation of the results and research project carried out.

At the end, discussion and some conclusions will be addressed.

2 The Study of Farmhouses: Historical Context and Approaches

Taking into account a historical and archaeological point of view, this case is undoubtedly a unique and remarkably interesting example, as it has given us the opportunity to study and investigate the material culture and the development and changes that have occurred in the production systems of this farmhouse, which could extrapolate to Biscayan farmhouses in general.

This research has helped us to consider what was known about farmhouses and their significance in the context of the historical development of Biscay, Spain: the current physiognomy of this territory is not understandable if we do not consider the past of the farmhouses and their way of life. Actually, the word “farmhouse” encompasses two meanings: on the one hand, those precious stone buildings that appeared from the sixteenth century onwards, and, on the other hand, in an economic sense, the family production cell originated in the twelfth to thirteenth centuries. In fact, these structures go far beyond the mere concept of a family residence or an agricultural and livestock farm. Their purpose is to provide for economic and self-survival, with distinct functions being in it: dwelling, stable, storeroom, wine press, granary, cellar, work area, attic, barn, dovecote, apiary, etc. (Santana et al., 2001).

In terms of understanding, which are the strengths of the approach of this research, we must underline that the study of these elements has been approached over time in a different way. First, we must consider their analysis as structures, their genesis, and evolution. In addition to the systematic study of their characteristics and elements, we must especially mention works that have addressed the subject from an architectural perspective. Baeschlin’s work (1929) on “The Architecture of the Basque Farmhouse,”^[4] which analyses the structural elements that characterise this example of typically Basque rural architecture, as well as its function, is worth mentioning.

Art history has also delved into this topic, with Barrio Loza’s works (1989) being obligatory references. However, the most significant reference is undoubtedly Alberto Santana Ezquerra. Books like “The Architecture of the Homestead in Euskal Herria: History and Typology”^[5] (Santana Ezquerra et al., 2001), “Igartubeiti: A Guipuzcoan Homestead” (Santana Ezquerra & Otero, 2003), and many articles are important and essential for approaching this topic from different perspectives. An ethnographic approach has also been noteworthy, detailing the distinctive way of life in these spaces, starting with Barandiarán (1925, 1926), among others.

An especially interesting approach to this topic is from the standpoint of archaeological research, emphasising that, ontologically speaking, there has been a development of archaeology focused on the architectural dimension of the homestead in the last 20 years. In this regard, several examples have been crucial in shaping this research path. One such example is the work carried out on the Igartubeiti farmhouse (Gipuzkoa, Spain) (Santana Ezquerra & Otero, 2003) based on two fundamental pillars: a detailed analysis of the functions and traces of use in various spaces of the homestead and archival research on historical sources.

However, all these bibliographic and study references share a common aspect: the approach to these elements by understanding them as individual domestic units (especially the building). Still, more integrative and diachronic perspectives, in which the landscape and territory carry more weight, are beginning to develop (Narbarte & Iriarte, 2023; Quirós Castillo et al., 2022), proving the maturity of archaeological and historical science. Studies on settlement and landscape, for example, as well as Archaeology of the Modern Age itself, provide tools for more accurate contextual approaches that generate genuine historical knowledge (Campos-Lopez, 2020a).

3 Developing Archaeological Heritage: Once Upon a Time […]

3.2 Archaeological Results and Historical Meaning

In Besoitaormaetxea, the remains of two huts were documented inside the building: the first was circular and the second rectangular. The latter one was dated thanks to C14 analysis with a twelfth-century chronology, with larger postholes and with the interior space probably divided for different activities.^[6]

In recent years, a series of archaeological interventions have been carried out inside different farmhouses such as Igartubeiti (Ezkio-Itsaso, Gipuzkoa) and Landetxo Goikoa (Mungia, Bizcay), among others, which have already revealed the earlier occupation of the site with medieval dwelling structures built with posts driven into the ground. Even so, almost everything is still to be defined about their use. These dwellings were nothing like the farmhouses that appeared in the last few years of the fifteenth century and which have survived to the present day (Figures 2 and 3).

Figure 2

First of the documented huts. Right-hand image: 3D reconstruction. Right-hand image: author, Imanol Larrinaga. Scientific assessment: article author.

Figure 3

Second of the documented huts, twelfth century. 3D reconstruction. Scientific assessment: article author.

Almost all the farmhouse models that exist today in the region were set up in the sixteenth century; no one prior to this date. In addition, their name is one of the most characteristic elements of these Basque farmhouses, its name is the name by which their owners and inhabitants will be recognised, and it is something that will remain in time.

The sixteenth century was a period of experimentation and innovations in almost all fields related to architecture. After the first decades, the farmhouses renounced the use of wood as an enclosure material and unanimously accepted the advantages of some materials and elements. That is, the advantages of stone and the possession of a porch were unanimously used as a suitable place for storage, work, and social relations. The farmhouse was built with wooden interior supports, stonewalls on the ground floor and light, and half-timbered partitions on the upper floor.

Besoitaormaetxea farmhouse itself is a magnificent stonework, as can be seen on its great north wall. It also has an exterior high silo, granary, used for agricultural surplus, one of the last examples of one of the last surviving examples of Biscayan type. It stands on four stone pillars and was used to store foodstuffs for the whole family; different food for the whole family was kept in different compartments, protected from rodents, humidity, and dampness.

The cider-press, the heart of the building surrounded by the stonewalls, as if they were enveloping it, is found at the back. There is continuity in agricultural resources, such as apples, to produce cider; in addition, barrels to store the cider as specialised production (Figure 4).

Figure 4

Farmhouse built during the sixteenth century. Author: Imanol Larrinaga. Scientific assessment: article author.

Life and customs changed radically when, in the eighteenth century, maize and American crops appeared. The farmhouse, as a building, had to adapt to the maize production process.

It became necessary to husk each ear of corn by hand and, before shelling it, to let it dry for more than a month in a ventilated place to prevent the grain from fermenting. Thus, the upper front area became the best place to dry the grain; it was the best place to dry the cobs. The spread of maize did not mean the disappearance of wheat; even if it had a much lower yield, its white flour was still the most appreciated, and it was the only one that was marketed.

For this property system – inherited by the eldest son and rentier landowners – this new crop meant the possibility of making marginal plots of land, previously only used by livestock, profitable. New farmhouses appeared in the countryside. Sometimes offered in sharecropping or rented to the peasants’ descendants, who had previously been condemned to emigrate. Thus, in order to compensate the cattle for the disappearance of natural pastures, the annual period of stay was increased.

In addition, the time that cows and oxen stayed in the stables was increased. Because of that, as we can see in Besoitaormaetxea, the interior cider press disappeared, leaving space for the livestock: the stable, as we understand it today, became usual.

The cider and apples did not disappear; production is now local, almost for self-consumption (Figure 5).

Figure 5

Seventeenth-century changes. Author: Imanol Larrinaga. Scientific assessment: article author.

In the Basque farmhouses of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, men and women worked equally hard at the hardest work in the fields, and so the number of arms available for ploughing or mowing was, at this period, quite high. Production was thus elevated, but the yield per person (productivity) was exceptionally low, and the land drive to exhaustion. Before the end of the eighteenth century, it became clear that the harvests were smaller each year while the number of people to feed continued to increase.

In the Basque countryside, it was normal for each house to be the residence of a single-family unit. However, the eighteenth-century rentist landowners started sawing these farms to get the most out of their plots of land by renting each house to several families of settlers. The demand for farmhouses was so great that there were always several candidates willing to marry and settle down on their own. Thus, many of the inherited properties abandoned during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were segregated internally into two or more dwellings to be inhabited by tenant families (Figure 6).

Figure 6

Project main topics and results.

3.3 Dissemination Project Proposals: What, How, and in What Way Manage It

Once the archaeological work was completed, it was clear that the importance of the results obtained would allow us to construct a solid narrative of communication and heritage (re)significance around these traditional assets.

Thus, we found that the results were particularly interesting, as they meant that a series of hypotheses we had been working with on the origin and location of the farmhouses and their historical significance were confirmed.

Therefore, the idea of the results dissemination of this project came from different perspectives: (i) from the conviction of the archaeological team, which always understood the need to carry out a project of social construction of knowledge; (ii) the need to generate strategies of knowledge of value also originated in society itself, through a local association,^[7] which demanded its right to participate and be an accomplice in the study and research of its heritage; and (iii) finally, with the involvement of the administration.

This combination of factors, understood as a symbiosis, allowed a (re)valorisation and (re)cognition of the results obtained, which meant crossing the bridge between what could have been a merely communicative action and another active and participatory action, involving this society, which allows us to speak of social management of this project.

Thus, the scope was to give continuity to this DLA intervention. Where archaeology would take part, along with other disciplines, in the interpretation of the data, dealing with issues such as the functioning of the farmhouse, the relationship of structural elements, the study of production models associated, and, especially, the dissemination and socialisation of the results obtained and of the research process. With all of this, a complete and complex research was carried out, and, especially, the final idea was to get the most of this information from an open source and the results dissemination (Campos-Lopez, 2020a) (Figure 7).

Figure 7

Relations and interactions during project implementation.

One of the main points of this project was to incorporate the need to work with the involvement of the public through the analysis of material culture, the generation of links, and the construction of heritage and memories, as well as promoting active educational and dissemination strategies.

First, the characteristics and potential of the project were analysed, as well as its shortcomings and limitations. In this sense, from the point of view of the research carried out, the results were interesting, as they confirmed a series of up-to-date hypotheses. Therefore, the enhancement of these contents gave us the opportunity to put into practice didactic and educational strategies of research into history, in this case archaeology – a discipline that, as such, is not present in the school curricula (Ibañez-Etxeberria et al., 2017, p. 138) – as a source of historical knowledge. Thinking historically requires knowledge of the past, but also an understanding of how this knowledge is acquired and what it is based on. It requires understanding that historical sources sometimes may not be direct sources of information about the past but that historians use them as evidence of their knowledge (Domínguez Castillo, 2015). It is noted that the knowledge and teaching of Archaeology and History – through the development of historical thinking – favour the understanding of societies and that their methods and techniques encourage critical and reflective capacity (Prats & Santacana, 2001).

Second, similar work has been done on the visualisation of archaeological work: use of historical sources and archaeological methods. The reality that the archaeological professional sees in an excavation is always a fragmentary and fragmented reality. The interpretation of the material culture – objects, archaeological record, and context – is only possible when all the parts integrate into a coherent conceptual scheme that seeks an answer to previously asked questions. Thus, developing research projects based on material culture ultimately fosters interest in and knowledge of the nearby heritage, a key aspect to ensure that society becomes an active agent in the protection and safeguarding of its heritage (Collado Moreno, 2016; Ibañez-Etxeberria et al., 2015).

Likewise, before any interpretation of this type, we must ask ourselves about our veracity and objectivity in any research or reconstruction. As Santacana I Mestre and Masriera Esquerra (2012, p. 162) pointed out, it is necessary to differentiate very clearly between what it was and what it must have been. Thus, in its reconstruction, archaeology must explain, not evaluate or state. Any social science must try to be, above all, objective (Santacana I Mestre & Masriera Esquerra, 2012). However, in our opinion, complete objectivity is not possible. We all are conditioned by the context in which we move, although we advocate patterns of rationality that give meaning to this reconstruction.

Besides, this proposal made visible those who carry out projects based on archaeological heritage through the study of material culture. Attempting to be a starting point from which to devise future collaborations, activities, and projects bringing these professionals closer to society.

To carry all this out, various strategies have been implemented to return to society the knowledge generated about this heritage asset, how it is defined (that is, heritagisation), and the importance of it being endowed with historical content by researchers, thanks to heritage education, in this specific case, a heritage communication developed in the non-formal sphere. Thus, a scientific infographic^[8] was chosen to show the research process and not only the results obtained. A tool, in fact, that has allowed us to reflect the research project carried out in a simple and attractive way, as well as considering that this format was particularly useful, as a large amount of information was concentrated in these images thanks to the use of images. Images like material culture supply more implicit than explicit information. They are also attractive and easy to use, especially for young students, and allow us to develop key skills for historical knowledge by setting up a constructive and active dialogue in the teaching-learning process. In addition, different videos were made freely accessible on the web together with distinct cultural associations in the area, as well as guided tours (Figure 8).

Figure 8

Project development graphic.

The aim was to encourage public participation in the management of these elements, generating heritage links thanks to a research project based on the study of the material culture and the historical and archaeological information generated.

4 Discussion

As we have set up in this article, this research is carried out from the analysis of material culture and, in our specific case, from the practice of DLA. In addition, it presents a series of aspects that we consider important to underline:

1. In line with the European Heritage Strategy Twenty-First Century, these projects allow us to involve society in our activities while also being aware of what these audiences demand from us, the need and value of our practice. In this sense, proximity becomes vital, as well as highlighting the work of archaeology professionals, in all its fields (field, laboratory), as a strategy to humanise our work beyond just highlighting its scientific and historical results.

2. Linkage with the local. Taking advantage of the physical proximity to the archaeological remains and their surroundings makes it possible to generate links of identity and feelings of belonging to the community (Jameson & Musteațǎ, 2019). It is important to encourage cooperation and joint work between different local agents.

3. Research based on the analysis of material culture allows us new readings of received historical discourses, approaching the record with new questions, which leads to new historical narratives and the recognition of hitherto erased historical agents, such as the case of female agency (Campos-Lopez et al., 2023).

4. Research must be continuous and must generate accessible knowledge in a sustainable way to generate this return. Thinking that any deposit or archaeological artefact or knowledge stands on its own, not supplying continuous research and generating valuable knowledge strategies, is the end of any initiative. Dissemination without continuous and sustained research is pure mercantilism (Vaquerizo Gil, 2017; 2018). One project could be concluded because the return to society has been generated when the mechanism has been set in motion, and it has the capacity to continue “on its own.”

5. Archaeological methodology and competence development. The archaeological method encourages teamwork and the development of key competences. It allows the use of dynamics that help understanding and historical thinking, being an effective tool in the teaching of historical research processes, especially in a context where the time dedicated to history in the school curriculum is limited (Campos-Lopez, 2019b; Corbishley, 2011).

6. The convergence between taught and researched history helps students understand how historical knowledge is constructed. Interventions based on proximity and working with archaeological heritage can promote a teaching-learning approach that highlights the relevance of acquiring knowledge about the past and using skills to access, understand, and explain history to different audiences (Egea & Arias, 2018; Egea et al., 2018).

7. Educational potential of material culture research. The study of material culture enables the development of skills such as spatial interpretation, temporal awareness, and the processing of information and working with objects. Teachers can use archaeology as a source of historical knowledge in teaching-learning processes (Campos-Lopez, 2019b; Corbishley, 2011; Fredheim & Watson, 2023).

8. Integration of formal and informal education. The boundaries among formal, non-formal, and informal learning are increasingly blurred and permeable. Educational informal learning experiences, such as archaeological interventions or working with archaeological material, can be highly effective in teaching and learning processes (Hernández et al., 2016).

In short, this text highlights the importance of taking advantage of physical proximity, valuing archaeological heritage, and using archaeology, DLA especially, as an educational resource to promote an enriching approach to audiences and in the construction of heritage through research projects developed from material culture.

5 Conclusions

Projects linking audiences, heritage, and education seek to harness the potential of cultural heritage, including archaeological remains and their material culture, as educational resources to promote the active participation of diverse audiences through inclusive and holistic discourses. These projects, as the one presented here, often involve the local community and distinct audiences and may encompass activities such as archaeological excavations, guided tours of historic sites, research workshops, outreach programmes, and collaboration with educational institutions.

Similarly, the interdisciplinary connections generated allow heritage to be approached from different perspectives and enrich the understanding and educational value by involving disciplines such as history, archaeology, social sciences, anthropology, education, and heritage conservation.

Successful practices are those that involve the local community in the research and protection of archaeological heritage, fostering a sense of ownership and care for cultural heritage. As well as educational programmes that combine theoretical learning with practical experience and collaborations between educational institutions, archaeologists, museums, and community organisations to design and implement educational projects that promote the appreciation of heritage.