Music and Sense of Place

I love listening to music, as I'm sure everyone here does, too. While listening to some music and working on a paper tonight, I heard a song that reminded me of a place that I had been. Has that ever happened to you? And not just a concert you went to and the artist sang the song that night, but maybe a song that was playing at a high school dance, or in your car on your birthday.

I think music and history are intertwined more than we care to realize. And not just our personal history, but the history of a country, or the world. Like the Star Spangled Banner (or any other national anthem), or Celine Dion singing "My Heart Will Go On" at the Oscars, or Bruce Springsteen singing "The Rising" after 9/11, or the Olympic Theme.

I think music takes us back to the exact place we heard it; sometimes songs just stop you in your tracks, and this could be a good or bad thing. For example, my first dance was in 6th grade and it was to "I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing" by Aerosmith. Do you know how long that song is, especially for a couple of sixth graders at a Catholic school dance? Every time I hear it, I laugh and think about my awkward first dance in my grade school gym. Obviously this is not some profound sense of place breakthrough, but it does illustrate my point.

I think it would be cool to have a museum that plays music at different parts of exhibits. It could involve visitors, and it could help transport them back to a certain time and place in a way that written words just can't.

Diseased Cakes

Museum Teaches Anatomy And Disease With Ghoulish Body Part Bake-Off

What a cool concept! No, really. As far as outreach goes nothing beats an educational bake-off. Apart from some desserts that look well, gross, I am pretty sure they taste better than they look. I think this is a really neat idea, especially for natural history museums. Aside from the baking events, the museum also paired the event with a series of health-related lectures. Perfect timing for Halloween! (I highly recommend clicking the link and viewing the slide show; some of the cakes/etc. might look gross but they certainly are an impressive feat.) Should more museums try unconventional forms of outreach? Baking certainly seems like one.

Museum Perspectives

Last night, I watched the move The Relic (1997).  In short, the movie consists of a tiger-beetle-lizard-human combination that wreaks havoc inside a Chicago museum.

Throughout the movie, besides being scared of a brain eating monster, I was worried for the general safety of the people, objects, and museum.  Things that we have learned in class flashed before my eyes.  I hope they have a good disaster recovery plan.  This can’t be good for the museum’s credibility.  How will they ever secure sponsors after this?  How will the public feel safe in this museum again?  

In the movie, the museum had just opened an interesting exhibit on superstitions from around the world. It was actually really interesting.  As patrons walked through, they were faced with many of the common superstitions of today: open umbrellas, pictures of black cats, and walking under ladders.  The path then led to other rooms and introduced superstitions from other cultures.  I thought it was an effective way of placing the foreign superstitions in perspective. 

However, I could not help but notice that there were not enough text panels on the walls.  In fact, I don’t remember seeing any text.  Also, as visitors continued down the path, a stone-like cover slid away to expose an open grave in the middle of the floor.  The grave cover was some sort of automatic moving display that could move back and forth over the fake grave.  I immediately thought, “Where’s the railing? That doesn’t look very safe, but maybe it’s protected by glass.”  However, during the creature’s rampage, two visitors fell straight in the open grave and probably destroyed everything inside.  Then the stone cover slid back and trapped them inside.  At least they were safe from the monster, I guess.   

This is a silly example, but the point is that before I started the public history program, I would never have considered any of these ideas.  Before this program I was simply an innocent museum visitor.  My understanding of museums is still developing, but what I have learned so far has permanently altered my museum perspective.  During the entire movie I was thinking about the policies, the people, and the collections.  I was looking for what was done well and what could have been better in the exhibit.  I’m sure as I progress through the public history program, my eyes will only become more aware and critical of museums. 

Hurricane Sandy

The AAM sent me an email providing tips for hurricane preparation and recovery.  I’ve been hearing about Hurricane Sandy for a few days, but I never stopped to consider how it will affect the museums and historic sites that are hit.  The links are helpful, and I hope everyone is okay!

 http://www.magnetmail.net/actions/email_web_version.cfm?recipient_id=1063387233&message_id=2370142&user_id=Museum&group_id=443827&jobid=11912695

Having fun with history and photography on Tumblr

I'm not quite sure how I came across this blog but it is....ummm....very interesting. The title of the blog is My Daguerreotype Boyfriend.  The punchline is "where early photography meets extreme hotness." The photos are of men from various periods of history who people think are "hot" or attractive. Information about the photos include the photo's medium, the year the photo was taken and a story regarding that person or group of people in the photo. The photos allow visitors to see what people wore during a certain time period. It also demonstrates the evolution of photography from black and white to sepia tones and color photos. 

Blogging: The National Archives

The National Archives hosts several blogs. The most fascinating one is Prologue. This particular blog is very user friendly and encourages its users to contribute. For example, on Thursdays the blog has a "Put a caption with this photo" contest. The Archives posts a funny or interesting photo from their collection on the blog and encourages the users to come up with funny and creative captions for the photo. Another interesting trend on the site is Facial Hair Fridays. Apparently facial is extremely popular (for those of you in Dr. Herringer's class- remember the article about the beard movement?) and the blog has taken advantage of this trend. Every Friday the Archives will post a photo of a historical figure with very interesting facial hair and details the history of that person and his impact on history. The person with the best caption wins a prize from the online gift shop. 

Date with Google

So I got on my computer today and saw that Google wanted me to relive the 20th century with it. Obviously I never reject dates with Google, so I clicked on the link and found this:

Google Cultural Institute

Talk about interesting use of technology! This combines, photos, videos, original manuscripts, and a bunch of other cool stuff into one place. The array of topics is not super wide, but it is a great start. I think this is awesome, personally. It's a great resource for schools to use -- way better than Wikipedia.

What does everyone think? Yay or nay?

Thoughts on public grieving

Watching the film on Tuesday made me think about my feelings on the public displays of emotion that have become so prevalent in our society. Personally, they make me quite uncomfortable, so I am going to try and deconstruct my reasoning on this to see if you all think I'm just out of step with the rest of the world.

When we were discussing the film it was mentioned that the first time this kind of mass memorialisation had been seen was in the immediate aftermath of the death of HRH Diana, Princess of Wales. (I should caveat this before I start by saying that I am an ardent monarchist who has framed pictures of the Royal family on her wall like some sort of 1950s housewife). I remember the seas of flowers littering central London, the wailing and gnashing of teeth at the gates of Buckingham Palace and the hideous smell as all those flowers rotted in the street because no one was brave enough to just tidy them up. I also remember the way the tabloid press decided to dictate the way that HM Queen Elizabeth II and her family should grieve for their own personal loss. I understand that Princess Diana was a well loved and respected figure and people would be shocked and saddened (as I was) by her sudden and tragic death. I don't understand the idea that they were grieving. I don't see how you can grieve for a person that you have never met. I can understand sorrow and empathy for those who are grieving, but I don't understand how you can feel true grief for someone who's life you experienced through magazines and television. I think that the British public, in trying to publicly show their love and sense of loss for Princess Diana, robbed the people who were actually grieving her loss of their right to do so in the way that they chose to, by forcing them to conform to what they as a mass thought was the appropriate way of showing their feelings. (Gosh, sorry that was a shockingly constructed sentence)

I think that the issue I have is that public grieving now seems to be seen as the only way to grieve. If you are not showing how upset you are then you cannot be upset at all. I have a schoolfriend who was killed 5 years ago. He was shot in an alleyway on a council estate (like a project I think? - social housing financed by the State). People left flowers and candles and other things at the spot where he died but I didn't. I didn't want to remember Jason bleeding to death in an alleyway, I wanted to remember him alive. Although I keep objects that remind me of him, I keep them privately, so that I can remember him in the way I choose. Maybe it is just me, but I don't think remembering him in this way is any less respectful of his memory or any less important. I'm not a public crier (for much the same reasons as Sarah gave in her post) but that doesn't mean my sense of loss is any less acute than someone who wears their emotions on their sleeve. I carry photos of those I have loved and lost around with me, I talk about them, I remember their birthdays. I try to remember them, rather than how they died.

I found the idea of people leaving objects at the Vietnam memorial, World Trade Centre and Federal building fascinating because I think I might have had the same initial reaction as the curators did. "Why has all this random stuff been left here?" I can understand this more now because the people who leave the objects leave them in memory of people that they knew and loved. I still don't think I would do it. I still think I would want to keep the stuff private and safe. I do see why they want to put something there that represents their loved one though. To stop them being a number or just another victim in a list. To say to the world that they were an individual. So I think in the case of major events that genuinely effect large numbers of people, leaving objects is a good thing. I think we have to consider the people as being more important than the event and personal items help to do that. Preserving them shows that we respect life above other things and that can only be good.

I just think that we need to know how to differentiate between grief and sorrow and respect how people choose to deal with their own emotions.

*Awkward rant over*

Crying in Public

I hate crying in public. It's basically my least favorite thing to do. So you know I'm definitely passionate or upset about something if you see me cry about it in front of you. The film Objects and Memory hit a chord with me, and I cried in public. But I think it was worth it. The film reminded me not only of the brave people involved with 9/11 -- on that day and in its preservation afterwards -- but it also reminded me a lot of my own life experience, as well as the importance of objects in my own life.

Here's the scoop. I wear this necklace sometimes that has two silver charms: one has two dolphins, a big one and a small one. The other is a small cross, and they're on a thick silver chain. My mom gave it to me the morning I started college when I was 18. It belonged to my dad, who passed away when I was 12 of a rare form of cancer. My mom said that the dolphins represent our family, (the large dolphin as my parents and the small one as my sister and me) and the cross was my dad's Confirmation cross. He used to wear this necklace all the time.

As the people in Objects and Memory spoke about their loved ones, I felt a real connection to them. I saw their important objects, and related to the fact that this object represents this person.

I know that my necklace won't stay intact forever, and that is the trouble with objects. They are finite; however, while we have them, it is our job as public historians to preserve them for the public so they can understand their significance. The preservation of objects that surround tragedies is one of our most important duties; these objects have huge potential to inspire hope, and I think this is the strongest force history offers.

As for my phobia of crying in public: I guess I'll just have to work that one out on my own.

Objects that are Memory

Seeing Objects and Memory made me think of a new show called Revolution on NBC.  The show is set in the future where something has caused the world to lose power.  Nothing works and it has become a sort of apocalyptic world.  Military republics have sprung up and are sort of a government; but that's not the point here.  One of the characters, Maggie, still carries around her iPhone.  The only pictures she has of her kids, their whole lives, are on that phone.  She looks at it to remember them since they are back in England and she was in the US when the power went out.  So she hasn't seen them in 15 years.

That phone is her connection to her kids and her past.  Sadly, on one of the recent episodes, she got hurt and later died.  When she was dying she asked for her phone and you saw her memories of when she was last with her kids and what they did and what they looked like.  The main character, Charlie, collects post cards of Chicago, her home town, and gets an idea of what Chicago was like before the blackout.  All the characters have an item that has meaning to them and connects them to their pasts before the blackout.

This all got me thinking as to what I would have if I lived in their world without power or something like it.  I think I'd have pictures of my loved ones, my dogs' collars and my book of Sherlock Holmes mysteries. 

What would you keep?

Iniquity and Antiquities?

When one thinks of questionably acquired objects, one usually thinks of the Getty Museum. There are other cases where the issue is murkier, the Elgin marbles for example. (Note the Elgin marbles have no legal basis for return as the case with items returned to Italy that were looted during the 1970s in violation of international treaties. Elgin's actions were carried out over 200 years ago and with the approval of the rulers the in power.) Archeologically rich countries have recently started to lobby for the return of their cultural heritage. However, this calls into question what defines cultural heritage and a nation’s history, be it a continuous evolution from cultures from the past or a separate thread that emerges. Can countries truly claim items that belong to them only in terms of geography and still lay claim to their cultural heritage? Regardless of where someone falls on these issues when it comes to the possibility of returning items, is it fair to deny a country articles based on their economic and political instability. Let us consider the Elgin marbles and Greece for a moment or Ancient Egyptian artifacts and modern-day Egypt.

“Museums argue that they are custodians of the world's cultural heritage, but they are increasingly careful to avoid buying artworks that may have been looted. These issues are part of a larger debate about the rights to define cultural heritage and own cultural property.” –Anthony Kuhn

The above quote comes from a recent story on NPR regarding Cambodia lobbying for the return of a statue that they suspect has been looted from the temple complex at Koh Ker. Cambodia is recovering from 30 years of civil war. However, the country has a growing tourist industry to its fabulous archeological sites, namely the temple complex at Angkor Wat. The site a Koh Ker is older and larger. but less well-known. The site is also surrounded by dense jungle and until recently, landmines. Despite these factors, apparently a 1,000 year old statue of Hindu warrior Duryodhana went missing from the site only to appear in New York at Sotheby’s auction house. Sotheby’s denies that the object was conclusively looted from Cambodia and as a result maintains that it should be able to auction the item. The case will be decided by a U.S. court.

Regardless of the decision of the court, if the item is returned to Cambodia, can it be protected to make sure it is not potentially stolen again? If not, will a museum purchase the item? Would it be ethical for a museum to do so considering the controversy? And if a museum does not acquire the item due to the issues and it is not returned to Cambodia, will it vanish from public view all together into a private collection. I think these are points worth considering. Personally, I hope the Cambodian government does recover the statue if it can be proven that the artifact was looted. If this cannot be proven, I hope the statue goes to a museum, even if the object’s background is a little sketchy.

"Cambodia Vs. Sotheby's In A Battle Over Antiquitie​s" by Anthony Kuhn describes the situation and the evidence that Cambodia has produced supporting its claims to the statue. "Romancing the Stones: Who Owns the Rights to the Elgin Marbles?" appears on the Daily Beast and offers a discussion of the topic regarding the marbles.

A story about a pigeon

Those of us who were in the Museum Administration class last night enjoyed a story about a troublesome pigeon. I thought I'd share my own story about a pigeon who caused a ruckus at my former workplace, Eltham Palace.

We used to have quite a lot of TV/ film / photo shoots there. They were generally the most long and boring days, but this one had a brief episode of excitement.

I was standing in the entrance hall of the building, it looks like this:  The glass doors you can see were open and a film crew was bringing in all there equipment. Myself and my colleague, Tom, who was new at the time were stood in a doorway just to the right of the picture. It was Tom's first time supervising filming and I was explaining what goes on and what we had to do etc. I was just saying something about having to watch people closely because they like to touch things and move furniture when something flew past my head. I assumed that one of the film crew had thrown something so I was about to put my grouchy face on, when I looked down at my feet. There was a pigeon. I looked up at Tom, then looked back at the pigeon. It was still a pigeon. "Right, that's not supposed to be there" I said (just in case the obvious needed stating) I put Tom on pigeon guard duty (this was a mistake, despite being a wonderful human being, Tom has no air of authority when it comes to birds) I went to see if we had a net or anything (cue conversations with other staff involving the words "No, I'm not joking, there is a pigeon in the entrance hall") We were concerned about the pigeon getting on to the expensive and irreplaceable rug in the centre of the room. Tom had valiantly stopped this but had managed to terrify the pigeon into hiding under a sideboard.

After a lengthy discussion about what to do we blocked the pigeon in with 'Caution - wet floor' signs then emptied the basket we used to store audio guides out and used the signs to coax the pigeon into the basket. We then set it free to cause havoc and destruction elsewhere.

I'm not sure what the moral of the story is, pigeons are trouble perhaps. Probably that common sense and the ability to deal with the unexpected are important to any public historian.

The "History Channel"

At the risk of going off on a tangent, I thought I'd make another post about history on film and television. In the mid-1990s, a new cable channel came into existence that was supposed to be dedicated towards providing educational programming about history. Called "The History Channel", it eventually became known as the "Hitler Channel" for the large amount of programming that the station devoted towards World War II-related material. While they certainly did seem to prefer World War II, the station also at least was presenting historical material. Unfortunately, that trend has reversed itself today. Several years ago, the station's parent organization, A&E, gained a new head, Nancy Dubac. She said that the station would be making efforts to have higher-rated programming than previously. The first show that showed this new direction was called "Ice Road Truckers", which was a reality show. The success of this show encouraged the station to continue making similar programs. Since then, there have been shows such as Ancient Aliens, Axe Men, UFO Hunters, Pawn Stars, Nostradamus Effect, and others. This has led to the channel becoming derided by many professional historians and writers, who say that the channel has become caught up in the quest for higher ratings. The following is content from an article on Cracked.com:
 



The full article can be found at: http://www.cracked.com/funny-5720-the-history-channel/ .
Another article that has a similar discussion is available from:
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/12/19/business/media/now-in-top-tier-history-channel-struggles-to-stay-there.html?_r=1&pagewanted=all

It is very disappointing to me that the History Channel has turned to such a methodology. Back when it was a more genuine educational source, I spent hours absorbed in its content. I would say that it is a contributing reason to why I am interested so much in military history. Unfortunately, it has now become a source of the "Historicidal" attitude that Glassberg referred to in his article, and has fallen to the wayside of good public history.

I suppose this has turned into a rant, so I will rest my case and leave the floor open for comments.

History in Our Own Back Yards

I was planning to use this weekend to visit a museum for my site evaluation. Being new to Dayton, I thought I might take the opportunity to familiarize myself with the Dayton Art Institute or one of the other impressive Gem City historic sites. But then that unexpected phenomenon known as "car trouble" occurred and I ended up back home in Hillsboro, waiting for my wheels to be functional again. Not wanting to endanger my homework plan (tsk-tsk) my mom volunteered to take me to one of the local hole in the wall museums we've passed countless times but never gotten around to visiting.

So that's how I ended up spending a rainy Saturday touring the Dr. John Harris Dental Museum in Bainbridge, Ohio. Less than fifteen minutes east of home on Route 50, Bainbridge is a less-than-hopping town of about 1,000 residents. We pass through it periodically on our way to Chillicothe. Major attractions include a Dairy Queen, an IGA, and Mystical Retreat Cheesecakes (they claim to have "Possibly the world's greatest cheesecake." I have yet to judge that for myself). I was going to call it a one stoplight town, but I think there might be two.

The museum on the day I stopped in (the tents and cars are there because a festival was going on in town).

And it's home, of course, to the Harris Dental Museum. Dr. John Harris lived here in the 1820s, and he operated the first dental school in the United States from his home. It was technically more of a preparatory school for students who planned to attend medical college and had an interest in dentistry. Two of his students went on to found the first official colleges of dentistry in the country. So the museum calls itself the "Cradle of Dentistry." They had the cringe-worthy old dental implements you might expect to find, but they also had several displays on prominent Ohio dentists. One of them, Dr. Levitt Ellsworth Custer, was from Dayton. And guess what? He invented some newfangled electric-powered dental devices. Those crazy Daytonians.

But one of the most interesting things I found out while interviewing the volunteer docent was the fact that the vast majority of patrons are from out of town. Few local residents bother visiting the museum. The docent said that we "tend to neglect what's in our own backyard." I think this can be very true, especially in small towns. I know I'm guilty of it. I've driven the 1 1/2 hours to Cincinnati to go to the Museum Center, but I've never checked out the local historical society. I've hardly been to any of the mom and pop stores and restaurants in Hillsboro and Bainbridge, despite having lived a few minutes away almost my entire life. And every time one of those businesses disappears, I end up saying the same thing: "That's such a shame. It's been there forever. I should have gone there when I had the chance." We know from both this public history course and the museums class how hard it can be for small historical institutions to keep themselves afloat.  I think we should make an effort to visit and support the small, unique historic sites (and businesses) that contribute to a local sense of place and community identity, before they disappear due to lack of funds or interest.

I think with the Dental Museum, a lot of the locals might say "A museum about dentists? Um, thanks but no thanks." But if they took the time to visit, they would see that it's more than a collection of toothbrushes. It takes what might seem like an otherwise insignificant small town, and it shows how that town played a role in bigger historical trends , even if it is the history of a somewhat niche subject. Now, every time I drive through town, I'll think of the dentists of Bainbridge and the volunteers who manage to keep their odd little museum running. Then I'll try that cheesecake.