THE DILEMMA is stark: adapt to modern times or die. The answer is simple: adapt in character and survive.

More and more of York's historic buildings are being adapted to uses their architects could never have dreamed of one, two or even three centuries ago.

Critics complain that the buildings should be preserved untainted and retained in keeping with their original use.

In the case of disused churches, they scream sacrilege at the thought of a house of worship being changed, say, into an arts centre where modern plays and entertainment might feature nudity or foul language.

The true value of our ancient city's old buildings has been recognised. They are part of the rich fabric of heritage; they make York the lovely, historic city that each year attracts hundreds of thousands of visitors.

City fathers are charged with the onerous responsibility of protecting that heritage. With a few notable exceptions of several decades ago, they have performed that duty with admirable dedication.

There were grumbles earlier this month when it was revealed that the Grand Assembly Rooms were to be turned into a pizza restaurant, following in the footsteps of the Yorkshire Gentlemen's Club beside Lendal Bridge.

That particular change of use, though, has proved the experiment works. So has the conversion of St Sampson's Church into an older people's centre. Turrets above or in the city walls have successfully been turned into small businesses, breathing new life into otherwise dead, empty structures.

York is a shining example of how new can exist alongside old; how old can be made young without being desecrated.

If an ancient building has outlived its original use, it would be a sad, expensive affair to keep it immaculately preserved but empty.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.