With what ears do we hear?

I was listening to some medieval music the other day (yes, it might be a history person thing).  Though I was really enjoying it, I noticed was that the music was being played on contemporary instruments.  This gave the music a different sound than when I had heard the same piece played earlier on period instruments.  I began thinking about how “more authentic” using the older instruments was because that was how the people who originally composed and listened to the music being performed would have heard it.  The more I thought about it though, the more I realized that no matter what instruments are played, we cannot remove the “modern us” from the equation.  How different, often, are our expectations for music (instant access, performers can re-record as many times as necessary, etc.).  How different are the environments in which we hear it (concert hall, CD player in the car, iPod, and so on).  Finally, we can never erase the sense that we are listening to something historic, a product of a place and time that is not now.  No matter what, I listen with a modern mind and consequently, modern ears.  But I still listen appreciatively.

 

The 1920 U. S. Census

I was working in a local archive the other day, looking for some information about the original owner of a historic property. My search for information led me to the census records, which I accessed via an internet database. I had some extra time, so I thought I would see if I could find some information about my grandfather’s family, which none of the relatives seems to know much about.

With a few clicks of the mouse, I had accessed the 1920 U. S. Census records and found my grandfather’s name. His entire family was listed: father, mother, older brother and sister, and then my grandfather, age seven. The census told me where they had been born, their occupations, and where they lived.  Finding this information was pretty exciting, and I look forward to delving deeper when I have time.

What struck me most as I read, however, was the way this document seemed to freeze time. Here, captured in this census record, my grandfather wasn’t the old man who had come to my birthday parties or taken me to visit veterans at the local V. A. hospital. Here, for all time, my grandfather is a seven-year-old boy, whose world consists of his mother, father, brother, sister and the street where he grew up. All the hopes and dreams, ups and downs, and mistakes and successes of his life are yet to be. At this moment in time, his life path remains to be decided. Here, Grandpa is not yet grandpa; he is a little boy playing with his toys, running through the warm rain on a summer day, going to school, and wondering what his future holds.

My grandfather passed away over twenty years ago, having lived a long, full life. In this document, though, he is seven forever.

 

My Fortune

I had dinner at a Chinese restaurant the other night, and I received an interesting fortune inside my after-dinner cookie. The fortune read, “The problems of today will be buried by the sands of time.” I thought this was a particularly relevant sentiment for a history and museum person to spend some time pondering.

First of all, should we comforted or frightened by this idea? What does it mean to bury? What does it mean to uncover? What happens if/when things resurface in some distance future? What will our problems mean to people who are not us? How are we (mis)interpreting what we uncover from the past?

Food for thought after a great meal.

 

America’s 11 Most Endangered Historic Places 2010

The National Trust for Historic Preservation announced the 11 most endangered historic places in the United States, including Saugatuck Dunes in Saugatuck, Michigan.

To learn more and find ways to help, visit the National Trust’s website http://www.preservationnation.org/issues/11-most-endangered/.

 

Selexyz Dominicanen

Talk about a miraculous adaptive reuse! The Selexyz Dominicanen bookstore is housed in a thirteenth-century Gothic monastery in Maastricht, The Netherlands. Construction began on the complex in 1267 and was completed in 1294. Following the French Revolution, Maastricht was annexed by the French, and the monastery was used for other purposes (including stabling horses) but was never again used as a church. In the last two hundred years, the structure has been reused multiple times, most recently by the Dutch bookstore chain Selexyz beginning in 2006 (see this article in Crossroads magazine: http://crossroadsmag.eu/2008/03/between-two-selexyz-dominicanen-as-church-and-bookstore/).

At a time when “green” building is in, adaptive reuse is seen by many as the greenest way to go. Existing buildings have embodied value in their materials and the energy, both physical and human, that was used to construct them. They also have historical and cultural value to the communities in which they stand.

From an environmentally conscious point of view, finding new purposes for buildings that are already here instead of tearing them down, bulldozing everything into a landfill, and building an (often) inferior structure on the site, adaptive reuse makes good sense.

From a cultural point of view, reusing existing buildings brings a number of issues to the fore. What about buildings that are markers of hegemonic power in communities? What about reuses that may seem distasteful to some, like a nightclub in a deconsecrated church, complete with dancing on the former altar? I recently read about controversy over the National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Hotel, the site of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s assassination, being reused as a museum. Some feel that the site should be reused in other ways. These are important considerations that are part of any decision to adapt buildings and ones that communities must face.

In many cases, adaptive reuse is a great thing to do. So, bibliophiles rejoice! The Selexyz Dominicanen promises to be an uplifting book buying experience.

 

The An Gorta Mor (“The Great Hunger”) Memorial

Located on US-12 in the Irish Hills area of Michigan, the An Gorta Mor (“The Great Hunger”) memorial is a permanent memorial to the victims of the Irish Potato Famine of 1845-1850. The An Gorta Mor memorial is built on the grounds of the 1854 St. Joseph’s shrine. Sponsored by the Ancient Order of Hibernians, the memorial was created by Kenneth M. Thompson and dedicated September 19, 2004.

The choice of materials – stone and metal – reflects the desire for the memorial to be enduring. It is a post and lintel structure, consisting of two limestone columns that support a stone step from the Penrose Quay in Cork Harbor, Ireland as a lintel. A large empty bronze bowl between the posts symbolizes the Great Hunger. The base of the structure is surrounded by cobbles from Donegal, Ireland, which represent the journey of many Irish people to the United States to escape the famine.

Memorial spaces have a dual function. This structure is a physical manifestation of emotion, as the public nature of the memorial brings the private into the public eye. Conversely, public experiences of the memorial may become private depending on people’s history or how they react to the memorial.

 

A Perspective on Presentism

I have been reading The Old Wives’ Tale by Arnold Bennett (1908). Near the beginning of the book, the author describes how the townspeople lived in

“An era so dark and backward that one might wonder how people could sleep in their beds at night for thinking about their sad state….They never even suspected that they were not quite modern and quite awake. They thought that the intellectual, the industrial, and the social movements had gone about as far as these movements could go, and they were amazed at their own progress….Having too little faith and too much conceit, they were content to look behind and make comparisons with the past. They did not foresee the miraculous generation which is us.”

How often do we look to the past and compare ourselves or make judgment about historical others? How often do we forget that future others likely will judge us in the same ways! Our present reality too quickly will become a past. How do we think people in the future will imagine us and interpret our beliefs and intentions? Reflections on Bennett’s (albeit tongue in cheek) words may help us to be aware of and evaluate our own tendencies toward presentism.

 

America’s 11 Most Endangered Historic Places 2009

 

Working on New Projects

I have been working on a lot of projects lately, including some work with a local museum. My first experience working in a “face-to-face” university classroom has been interesting and rewarding. As the fall semester ends, I am looking forward to finishing some work and moving on to developing my dissertation proposal. Happy holidays!

 

MMA Conference 2008

Although I had the opportunity to attend for only one day, the Michigan Museums Association conference in Traverse City, MI was a great experience. It’s always a chance to see colleagues from around the state, hear about new projects, and enjoy being with fellow museum folks.