Once ubiquitous on the island, Saint-Barthélemy's traditional huts have gradually disappeared from the landscape. Witnesses of an era, they were imbued with local know-how and adaptation to the climate, as well as a strong social and family history. Today, very few of them remain.
Starting this Wednesday, May 28, at the Brigantin Heritage Museum, an exhibition pays tribute to these emblematic buildings, which were once an integral part of the island's urban landscape and identity. "It's about a contract that was signed and published, to carry out an inventory of the island's built and architectural heritage.and architectural heritage," explains Bettina Cointre, vice-president in charge of culture. This exhibition is aimed at everyone, with the aim of introducing visitors to the traditional habitat and huts; it also offers a more contemporary take on the traditional huts: "We're going to have three exhibitions one after the other. This is the first one, with traditional huts and wind-powered huts. The second part will focus on traditional houses and local stores. And the third will focus on Gustavia's architecture, with Swedish buildings and typical Gustavian buildings. "These dwellings, now rare, are essential to understanding the architectural evolution of Saint-Barthélemy.
Balancing luxury and memory
Today, their memory is precious. As the island's image changed in the 1980s with the development of luxury tourism, these houses gradually gave way to more modern constructions. The exhibition at Le Brigantin is a reminder of the importance of preserving what remains. "Bettina Cointre emphasizes that highlighting these houses is a priority: "That's what I've been trying to do since the beginning of this mandate. I have the impression that we'd turned our backs on everything local, thinking that perhaps it wasn't compatible with the tourism we wanted to promote. On the contrary, it can attract tourists. "It's in this sense that broader actions come into play.
"With the commission, we set up workshops on straw braiding, and on Heritage Days, we tried to get a lot of people involved in highlighting know-how and traditional dress, as well as culinary skills," she explains.
Preserving traditional huts poses concrete challenges. In Saint-Barthélemy, only a handful of very old huts remain today. These huts, remnants of the 18th-19th century heritage, embody a unique architectural style, and it is important to preserve and promote them. But the institutional framework remains unclear. There's no preservation policy at the moment," says Bettina Cointre. I'd like to and I hope to, but the problem is that local residents would like to... unless it's something that concerns them personally. "The approach has elicited contrasting reactions. There were two types of reaction," she explains. Some people were happy that we were promoting our heritage, while others were very wary." However, Bettina Cointre assures us that there is still a willingness on the ground: "We saw that there were quite a few adaptations and people who were keen to keep their house, even if they are making it evolve by adding things around it. "
Through this exhibition, La Collectivité territoriale is initiating an in-depth study of the island's architectural heritage, which is still largely absent from the heritage framework.
The traditional hut, witness to an endangered memory

Emilie Duhard
This year's census identified almost 150 traditional huts still standing. An unexpected number, which highlights the extent of a heritage that is often invisible, forgotten or little-known, even by those who live there. "When I worked on this census, some of the inhabitants living in huts were even wondering whether there were any left," says Émilie Duhard, an architect involved in the project.
This work has brought to light architectural treasures hidden throughout the island. "The most beautiful are often hidden...or abandoned," confides the architect. And yet they bear the social history of Saint-Barthélemy: a modest architecture, born of the means available at the time, built stone by stone, plank by plank, as a result of a lifetime's income. "In Flamands, a gentleman told me how he had built his house gradually, and that only after his marriage had he been able to add windows," says Émilie Duhard.
Through these stories, a whole local memory resurfaces. For the Creole hut is not just a type of dwelling: it was a social marker, reflecting an era when people built according to their means, depending on the natural resources available. Cloboard cladding, gable roof, small proportions, anchored to the ground by tree roots; guaiac or rosewood. Everything about the structure was designed to meet the constraints of the climate and economic realities.
Families, often modest, built little by little, without banks or loans, according to the income they earned over time. And this "light" architecture proved its resilience, as Émilie Duhard explains. Well-focused, with little exposure to the wind, these houses have weathered cyclones thanks to the right siting choices.
"It's not the architecture that's made them disappear, but the price of land".
But today, this heritage is becoming more fragile. While some of the huts are maintained, the majority are in joint ownership or have been abandoned.
Some are falling into disrepair for lack of work, while others are being replaced by more profitable constructions. "It's not the architecture that's making them disappear, but the price of the land. Many prefer to sell or build villas for rent," laments Émilie.
For in Saint-Barthélemy, the economic appeal weighs heavily. Land is worth a fortune, and real estate projects are more often driven by profit than by a concern for heritage: "Modern architecture here is all about Miami-style white roof terraces. There are a few clients who want to return to a more local style, but that's one in fifty..." says the architect.
Nevertheless, a timid return to Creole inspiration is taking shape. Proportions are changing, volumes are expanding, but certain signs are reappearing in certain buildings. When I talk to certain clients about the census work, it appeals to them, it touches them," she confides.
Preserving traditional huts is much more than an architectural gesture: it's about maintaining the link between a land, a history and those who still inhabit it. In Saint-Barthélemy, this link is unravelling, but like the foundations of old houses, it holds on to a few solid roots.
Preserving vernacular buildings: each island has its own method

Adobe/ Ayma stock
The gradual disappearance of traditional huts is not unique to Saint-Barthélemy. Other islands, such as Saint-Martin and Guadeloupe, are facing the same erosion of their heritage. But their responses vary considerably from one island to another.
On Saint-Martin, a neighboring island with a shared history, these small wooden dwellings have also largely disappeared. Rapid urbanization, devastating hurricanes - notably Irma in 2017 - and a lack of conservation facilities have greatly reduced the presence of Creole huts. While a few remnants remain in neighborhoods such as Marigot and Grand Case, they are rare and often integrated into modern buildings, with no real heritage recognition.
Guadeloupe, on the other hand, has embarked on a more structured project. In several communes, such as Le Moule, Sainte-Rose and Capesterre-Belle-Eau, inventories have been carried out and classification or renovation projects are underway, with the support of the Architectes des Bâtiment de France and local authorities. Heritage associations such as ASVP-G (association pour la sauvegarde et valorisation du patrimoine de la Guadeloupe) are also participating in this movement. These operations are aimed at safeguarding elements of identity: wooden structures, traditional roofs and the use of local materials.
On Marie-Galante, a more rural and less densely urbanized island, the huts are still inhabited or handed down from generation to generation, preserving an ancient know-how that has not been officially recognized. These examples illustrate a variety of approaches, between active policies, associative initiatives and living memory. The contrast highlights the fragility of a heritage that is shared, but unequally protected according to territorial dynamics.
Preserving traditional huts means passing on an entire section of local heritage.
They are silent landmarks in a constantly changing landscape.
(Sources: Association ASVP-G, Diagnostic du patrimoine bâti de Guadeloupe, Maison créole- Analyse de l'habitat traditionnel)
