As usual, this week’s reading spurred a great many thoughts. We finished Cathy Stanton's The Lowell Experiment: Public History in a Postindustrial City and read Diane Lea's introduction to A Richer Heritage entitled "America's Preservation Ethos: A Tribute to Enduring Ideals."
The Lea piece was a fairly straightforward history of preservation, both of land as well as buildings. However, while reading the article, I started thinking about two things. First, America is a growing, ever-changing nation with limited space and land. How can we draw the line when deciding what gets preserved as historic and what doesn't? I certainly do not believe that everything should be paved over to make way for something new, but I think we must be smart about preservation and city planning in order to maintain the balance of community heritage and history with progress. For this reason, I was really interested when Lea wrote about how a desire to preserve led to improvements in city planning and developments in architecture. On the flip side, Lea discusses the use of preservation as a means of preventing overcrowding and overgrowth in cities. The dichotomy there is food for thought. Second, the issue of who makes preservation decisions is intriguing. Should wealthy individuals get to decide what to buy and preserve or should this be a community effort? Maybe the best solution is a balance of both. The answer to some of my questions may just be preservation through repurposing. For instance, living in restored old homes preserves the homes while keeping them usable. Or, turning an old, historic office building into apartments means that the building remains standing, but there is room for residential growth as well. For me, though, Lea's most interesting anecdote was that the federal government thought that the National Register of Historic Places was a list that could be compiled and then remain static as if new things would never become old.
I'm still not quite sure what I think about Cathy Stanton's book. Stanton is an anthropologist and an ethnographer; she clearly writes from a very different perspective than a historian. In her book, Stanton hopes to address whether or not public history can change or challenge the status quo and if so, how that might occur. What I took from the reading is that Stanton wants public historians to do two things. They should do good history which engages the community and makes the public want to learn about the past. But, she also wants public historians to bring attention to issues people are facing in the present. Clearly, she’s been disappointed with how Lowell National Historic Park did the latter, particularly in the case of the local Cambodian community. I feel that there is quite enough of a challenge in presenting good, accurate, interesting history which encompasses everyone’s voice and makes people want to come learn. In an ideal world, public historians might be able to be community activists as well, but I’m not sure doing both is possible. It’s something I’ll have to keep thinking about.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
"If You Don't Tell It like It Is, It Can Never Be as It Ought to Be"
I think Roger Launius’s article, "American Memory, Culture Wars, and the Challenge of Presenting Science and Technology in a National Museum" might just be my favorite reading so far. Dr. Launius writes with self-awareness and humor which is much-appreciated. His article nicely demonstrates more pitfalls of shared authority in a museum setting. He candidly expounds on the trickiness of sorting through what history is versus what people’s perception of history is and shows just how difficult this can be with a topic as controversial as the moon landing. The challenge facing all public historians is how to address the zeitgeist while still doing accurate history that people will want to come and see in a museum. Is there some way to take a "customer is always right" approach while presenting good history that teaches people and encourages them to question what they know?
Launius’s article definitely showcases how harsh criticism of museums and their exhibits can be. Some of the critiques cited in the article were tremendously severe. However, I think that controversy is worthwhile when it starts important conversations and brings attention to little-known or vital topics. As I was reading, though, I was wondering if national, publically-funded, government-affiliated museums like the Smithsonian are more lightning rods than privately-funded museums might be. Are there different or higher expectations? Certainly, more voices must be brought into the mix.
I was really interested to read about the exhibits that Dr. Launius would like to see come to fruition, but which haven’t due to difficulty or controversy. Since we read the AAM’s 2008 Annual Report, I’ve been thinking that maybe the wave of upcoming retirements won’t be such a bad thing. It might be useful to get some new blood into museums which could result in some innovative ideas for tackling tough issues and controversies.
I also enjoyed James Horton and Lois Horton’s Slavery and Public History. Again, this book emphasized for me how public historians must find a way to address all the voices in a conversation, which is extraordinarily difficult. That being said, I don’t think we should shy away from controversy just because it’s difficult. I loved David Blight’s essay, particularly his use of Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude as a metaphor for the role of memory in history. Blight also had one of the most striking quotes in his essay when he discussed the forum he participated in. Here, Fred Shuttleworth said, "If you don’t tell it like it was, it can never be as it ought to be." This sums up exactly why I’m doing public history, but Shuttleworth put it more eloquently than I ever could have.
The Hortons’ book also made me wonder why as a society we’re so much more willing to accept museums and exhibits about the Holocaust than about slavery. I think some of the answers might be obvious, but maybe we can learn from the way museums deal with the Holocaust in order to better address slavery. Overall, I thought the book did an excellent job of laying out the problems and difficulties of including slavery in public history, but I wanted more suggestions on how to remedy the issues. I did, though, love the quote they used to end the book: "We accept this and together we will transcend it." Would that we, as the next generation of public historians, further that goal.
Launius’s article definitely showcases how harsh criticism of museums and their exhibits can be. Some of the critiques cited in the article were tremendously severe. However, I think that controversy is worthwhile when it starts important conversations and brings attention to little-known or vital topics. As I was reading, though, I was wondering if national, publically-funded, government-affiliated museums like the Smithsonian are more lightning rods than privately-funded museums might be. Are there different or higher expectations? Certainly, more voices must be brought into the mix.
I was really interested to read about the exhibits that Dr. Launius would like to see come to fruition, but which haven’t due to difficulty or controversy. Since we read the AAM’s 2008 Annual Report, I’ve been thinking that maybe the wave of upcoming retirements won’t be such a bad thing. It might be useful to get some new blood into museums which could result in some innovative ideas for tackling tough issues and controversies.
I also enjoyed James Horton and Lois Horton’s Slavery and Public History. Again, this book emphasized for me how public historians must find a way to address all the voices in a conversation, which is extraordinarily difficult. That being said, I don’t think we should shy away from controversy just because it’s difficult. I loved David Blight’s essay, particularly his use of Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude as a metaphor for the role of memory in history. Blight also had one of the most striking quotes in his essay when he discussed the forum he participated in. Here, Fred Shuttleworth said, "If you don’t tell it like it was, it can never be as it ought to be." This sums up exactly why I’m doing public history, but Shuttleworth put it more eloquently than I ever could have.
The Hortons’ book also made me wonder why as a society we’re so much more willing to accept museums and exhibits about the Holocaust than about slavery. I think some of the answers might be obvious, but maybe we can learn from the way museums deal with the Holocaust in order to better address slavery. Overall, I thought the book did an excellent job of laying out the problems and difficulties of including slavery in public history, but I wanted more suggestions on how to remedy the issues. I did, though, love the quote they used to end the book: "We accept this and together we will transcend it." Would that we, as the next generation of public historians, further that goal.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
The African American Museum in Philadelphia - Audacious Freedom: African Americans in Philadelphia, 1776-1876
The African American Museum in Philadelphia (AAMP) brings to life the story of the African American experience for visitors to Philadelphia’s historic Old City district. The facility houses four galleries, two of which currently contain Audacious Freedom. The new exhibit is an exciting and engaging blend of history with technology that is a welcome and unique addition to the Old City region of Philadelphia.
Upon entering the museum, guests pay $10 for an adult admission or $8 for a child, student, or senior citizen ticket. One then walks into a small room designed to appear as a modern-day art gallery. Titled "Foundings," contained herein are 5 screens which highlight important influences on African American life and political thought at the time. Possibly the most striking aspect of “Foundings” is the illustration on the back wall. A rendering of John Trumbull’s painting, “The Signing of the Declaration of Independence” appears from floor to ceiling. However, there is a notable deviation from the original: this version includes depictions of minorities, including African Americans and Native Americans, in order to draw the observer’s attention to how much further the new nation would have to go before living up to the ideals of the Declaration.
In Gallery 1, guests find themselves facing a wall of photographs and reproductions of primary source documents. The wall serves as a timeline taking visitors through history from 1776 to 1876. A podium is situated in the center of Gallery 1. Museumgoers can choose, via touchscreen technology, to hear a portion or all of the audio relating tales behind the images on the timeline.
Once a selection is made, the lights go down and the show begins. Overhead projectors illuminate photos or documents relevant to the audio voiceover playing at the time. In addition, moving images are projected onto the white portion of the wall above the photographic timeline. These features come together to create an impressive show which is completely engaging. Panels below the timeline wall tell more in-depth stories of the images featured above. So as not to induce museum fatigue, these panels are not necessary to an understanding of the history presented, but are completely supplemental.
Visitors make their way to Gallery 2 by way of a ramp upon which a period map of Philadelphia has been superimposed. This map details the neighborhood in which many African Americans would have lived in the 18th and 19th centuries. Gallery 2 features nine large-scale panels containing video screens. These screens show actor portrayals of several Philadelphia African Americans. Each panel includes an interactive portion which presents visitors a set of questions to ponder. Guests can push the corresponding buttons and get the answers to the queries straight from the characters themselves. The performers are emotional and make their tales personal and as a result, the videos are powerful and convey the difficulties and challenges even free African Americans faced during America’s first 100 years.
Behind the video screens is the Children’s Wall, the only portion of the museum aimed directly at youth. The wall tasks children with a small scavenger hunt, asking them to lift built-in flaps to find images which answer questions included on the featured scenes. Though the museum is intended to bring history to children, there isn’t much for youngsters beyond the Children’s Wall.
The strength of the museum lies not in its use of artifacts, but in its ability to make history come alive. In light of the dazzle provided by Galleries 1 and 2, Galleries 3 and 4 are a let-down. Gallery 3 features five pieces of contemporary art done by African American artists in a stripped-down room. Gallery 4 houses “Private Stock: Art from the Collection of AAMP and the Board of Directors.” This room contains many pieces of contemporary African American art. and does have labels. The star of the show is most definitely Audacious Freedom.
Audacious Freedom is an affecting feature housed in an important museum. The AAMP uses state-of the-art technology to enhance the museum experience. The exhibit does an excellent job of paring history down into palatable bites and bringing to life little-known stories which deserve attention. The AAMP has succeeded in blending memory with established academic fact and figured out how to make history serious and fun at once. Audacious Freedom proves that individual stories can enhance big-picture history and make what might be a daunting topic (the African American fight for freedom) accessible and approachable for the average person.
Upon entering the museum, guests pay $10 for an adult admission or $8 for a child, student, or senior citizen ticket. One then walks into a small room designed to appear as a modern-day art gallery. Titled "Foundings," contained herein are 5 screens which highlight important influences on African American life and political thought at the time. Possibly the most striking aspect of “Foundings” is the illustration on the back wall. A rendering of John Trumbull’s painting, “The Signing of the Declaration of Independence” appears from floor to ceiling. However, there is a notable deviation from the original: this version includes depictions of minorities, including African Americans and Native Americans, in order to draw the observer’s attention to how much further the new nation would have to go before living up to the ideals of the Declaration.
In Gallery 1, guests find themselves facing a wall of photographs and reproductions of primary source documents. The wall serves as a timeline taking visitors through history from 1776 to 1876. A podium is situated in the center of Gallery 1. Museumgoers can choose, via touchscreen technology, to hear a portion or all of the audio relating tales behind the images on the timeline.
Once a selection is made, the lights go down and the show begins. Overhead projectors illuminate photos or documents relevant to the audio voiceover playing at the time. In addition, moving images are projected onto the white portion of the wall above the photographic timeline. These features come together to create an impressive show which is completely engaging. Panels below the timeline wall tell more in-depth stories of the images featured above. So as not to induce museum fatigue, these panels are not necessary to an understanding of the history presented, but are completely supplemental.
Visitors make their way to Gallery 2 by way of a ramp upon which a period map of Philadelphia has been superimposed. This map details the neighborhood in which many African Americans would have lived in the 18th and 19th centuries. Gallery 2 features nine large-scale panels containing video screens. These screens show actor portrayals of several Philadelphia African Americans. Each panel includes an interactive portion which presents visitors a set of questions to ponder. Guests can push the corresponding buttons and get the answers to the queries straight from the characters themselves. The performers are emotional and make their tales personal and as a result, the videos are powerful and convey the difficulties and challenges even free African Americans faced during America’s first 100 years.
Behind the video screens is the Children’s Wall, the only portion of the museum aimed directly at youth. The wall tasks children with a small scavenger hunt, asking them to lift built-in flaps to find images which answer questions included on the featured scenes. Though the museum is intended to bring history to children, there isn’t much for youngsters beyond the Children’s Wall.
The strength of the museum lies not in its use of artifacts, but in its ability to make history come alive. In light of the dazzle provided by Galleries 1 and 2, Galleries 3 and 4 are a let-down. Gallery 3 features five pieces of contemporary art done by African American artists in a stripped-down room. Gallery 4 houses “Private Stock: Art from the Collection of AAMP and the Board of Directors.” This room contains many pieces of contemporary African American art. and does have labels. The star of the show is most definitely Audacious Freedom.
Audacious Freedom is an affecting feature housed in an important museum. The AAMP uses state-of the-art technology to enhance the museum experience. The exhibit does an excellent job of paring history down into palatable bites and bringing to life little-known stories which deserve attention. The AAMP has succeeded in blending memory with established academic fact and figured out how to make history serious and fun at once. Audacious Freedom proves that individual stories can enhance big-picture history and make what might be a daunting topic (the African American fight for freedom) accessible and approachable for the average person.
Making Museums Matter
This week's readings, as usual, left me with a lot to think about; we were assigned Stephen Weil's collection of essays, Making Museums Matter, Amy Tyson's article entitled "Crafting Emotional Comfort: Interpreting the Painful Past at Living History Museums in the New Economy," and the American Association of Museums's 2008 Annual Report called "A New Journey Begins."
Though there is no mention of Stephen Weil in the 2008 AAM report, it almost seems as though the AAM is taking up Weil's call to arms in effort to continue to make museums matter. The AAM report inspired some questions to which I may have to research the answers. For instance, the text alludes to "ambiguity" in pending legislation about which I'm curious and would like to know more. In the same paragraph, a mention is made of IRS Tax Form 990 and its bearing on the status of museum collections as financial aspects (8). I would love to know details and the outcome of the AAM's efforts.
I am intrigued by the trend Weil takes issue with, that museums have become public service institutions rather than places to gain knowledge. I think the readings this week highlighted some of the dark side of the concept of "shared authority." I am certainly not of the opinion that, as Weil says, that museums be places "maintained by the high for the low" (196). However, I'm really starting to think that education should be the first and foremost goal of museums and similar institutions, for reasons that Tyson highlights nicely in her piece, but more on that shortly.
I found the third section of Weil's book, "The Museum in the Public Sphere" particularly pertinent to the Wagner project. The portion really got me thinking about how an institution can and should interact with the public. Also, it dovetailed nicely with David Post's September 28 discussion regarding copyright and fair use. I think Weil's essays in the third section really brought the issues of how images are used and how this can be a problem even more to life for me.
I was most taken with Amy Tyson's article of the three readings we were assigned this week. I'm especially glad that we read Tyson's essay as it really got me thinking about how sensitive topics should be approached in museums. Tyson really got to the heart of the issues around shared authority and I thought she did an excellent job of approaching authenticity in ways that Kim and Jamal didn't quite reach in the reading from a couple of weeks ago. I appreciated that she tried to take a more psychological look at the phenomenon behind participants' reactions to living history experiences. I was quite arrested by her comparison of the "Follow the North Star" activity to participation in sadomasochistic sexual activities. I'm still not sure if I agree or disagree with the analogy. I think Tyson brings up a really good point about owning experiences. I don't share the view that sensitive topics such as slavery, the treatment of Native Americans, etc., are something to be swept under the rug. I think they should be dealt with and that getting people to own such history might be an important step in bridging some of the racial divide we're currently experiencing. I'm not sure that the right approach to interpretive history is to always ensure visitors' comfort. Sometimes history is uncomfortable and that's okay. Maybe in such a way we can start conversations. I don't feel that taking a "the customer is always right" approach is helpful to anyone. I've recently noticed a trend toward romanticizing portions of antebellum history that I find particularly disturbing; the customer is not right in that case. I really would love for Tyson to have interviewed African Americans or Native Americans for their views on how Fort Snelling and Conner Prairie dealt with the histories of oppression in their respective locales. Right now, I'm not sure what the best way is to handle sensitive issues like slavery or conflicts with Native Americans in living history contexts, but Tyson got my brain going. I don't think such issues should be ignored, but instead it's important to find a way to acknowledge that bad things happened; history isn't always happy.
Though there is no mention of Stephen Weil in the 2008 AAM report, it almost seems as though the AAM is taking up Weil's call to arms in effort to continue to make museums matter. The AAM report inspired some questions to which I may have to research the answers. For instance, the text alludes to "ambiguity" in pending legislation about which I'm curious and would like to know more. In the same paragraph, a mention is made of IRS Tax Form 990 and its bearing on the status of museum collections as financial aspects (8). I would love to know details and the outcome of the AAM's efforts.
I am intrigued by the trend Weil takes issue with, that museums have become public service institutions rather than places to gain knowledge. I think the readings this week highlighted some of the dark side of the concept of "shared authority." I am certainly not of the opinion that, as Weil says, that museums be places "maintained by the high for the low" (196). However, I'm really starting to think that education should be the first and foremost goal of museums and similar institutions, for reasons that Tyson highlights nicely in her piece, but more on that shortly.
I found the third section of Weil's book, "The Museum in the Public Sphere" particularly pertinent to the Wagner project. The portion really got me thinking about how an institution can and should interact with the public. Also, it dovetailed nicely with David Post's September 28 discussion regarding copyright and fair use. I think Weil's essays in the third section really brought the issues of how images are used and how this can be a problem even more to life for me.
I was most taken with Amy Tyson's article of the three readings we were assigned this week. I'm especially glad that we read Tyson's essay as it really got me thinking about how sensitive topics should be approached in museums. Tyson really got to the heart of the issues around shared authority and I thought she did an excellent job of approaching authenticity in ways that Kim and Jamal didn't quite reach in the reading from a couple of weeks ago. I appreciated that she tried to take a more psychological look at the phenomenon behind participants' reactions to living history experiences. I was quite arrested by her comparison of the "Follow the North Star" activity to participation in sadomasochistic sexual activities. I'm still not sure if I agree or disagree with the analogy. I think Tyson brings up a really good point about owning experiences. I don't share the view that sensitive topics such as slavery, the treatment of Native Americans, etc., are something to be swept under the rug. I think they should be dealt with and that getting people to own such history might be an important step in bridging some of the racial divide we're currently experiencing. I'm not sure that the right approach to interpretive history is to always ensure visitors' comfort. Sometimes history is uncomfortable and that's okay. Maybe in such a way we can start conversations. I don't feel that taking a "the customer is always right" approach is helpful to anyone. I've recently noticed a trend toward romanticizing portions of antebellum history that I find particularly disturbing; the customer is not right in that case. I really would love for Tyson to have interviewed African Americans or Native Americans for their views on how Fort Snelling and Conner Prairie dealt with the histories of oppression in their respective locales. Right now, I'm not sure what the best way is to handle sensitive issues like slavery or conflicts with Native Americans in living history contexts, but Tyson got my brain going. I don't think such issues should be ignored, but instead it's important to find a way to acknowledge that bad things happened; history isn't always happy.
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