through interpretation, understanding; through understanding, appreciation; through appreciation, protection
Freeman Tilden's quote about the importance of interpretation fifty years ago still rings true today. If people do not understand why something is important, they often do not appreciate it, and therefore don't see the need to protect it.
In Tilden's theory interpretation is the front-line defense, protection stems from this, and not the other way around. But, as is a common theme through many of these readings, interpretation must be more than just providing information. It must provide a means of understanding and appreciation of a site, whether it be historic or natural. The interpreter must care about and understand the site themselves before they can impart that knowledge to others.
Interpretation is important not only after a site is founded, but even to found the site in the first place. Patricia West shows us that politics is interpretation. In order to get a site preserved it must be interpreted as something worthy of saving. Some of these are easier "sells" than others. The preservation of Orchard house was an easy to sell to preserve, although the reason for why it was protected was not the reason many people thought it should be protected. (It emphasized Mr. Alcott's utopian dreams, and not his daughters writing.
the past is the stories we tell is what Handler and Gable call what people discuss about history. History is fact, the past is the story woven from the "important" facts. Tilden would say that a compelling story is not enough for good interpretation, you must go beyond the story and find some way to compel the interest of the audience Handler and Gable show how that is done in Williamsburg, and how it is also prevented. The story is highly commercialized and sensitized, one must feel that things are better than they once where--the scripted idea of progress.
But these all also discuss that history is not static, the stories we tell change, and interpretation must change with new experiences.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Preserving America
The idea of preserving historic America is well over one hundred years old. However the movement as really accelerated in the past fifty years. But what impact does this historic preservation have on the surrounding area? Do “historic districts” really accomplish what they say they will accomplish? And what exactly is “historic preservation”.
Both Cathy Stanton and Diane Lea leave out building codes that while do not preserve the historic character of a building; do preserve the historic vista of the property. The District of Columbia has such a rule, keeping the height limits of all buildings with D.C. below that of the statue on top of the Capitol Dome. All this code has done is pushed the towering behemoth from the center of town out into nearby suburbs such as Bethesda, MD. and Rossyln, VA.
Cathy Stanton’s book on Lowell, Massachusetts is an interesting look at urban historic preservation in America’s oldest manufacturing city. The book is combination of an anthropological look at the people involved in preservation, and a critical look at modern urban planning. Lowell, like many urban preservation projects, is a living city, while at the same time is also a historic entity. Stanton finds that many of those involved in the preservation of Lowell—both guides and consumers—have an insular existence when it comes to interacting with the city itself. Many want to do so, and think they are (such as those who take the tours of residential neighborhoods) but they just look, and do not interact. It becomes a situation in which tourists are served by a small number of community members, and you hope that the prosperity somehow trickles down to the rest of the city. As we have seen in Lowell—and elsewhere, just across the Anacostia River from the National Mall is Southeast Washington D.C., (a poverty-stricken neighborhood that a tourist only enters if their GPS badly routes them)—that isn’t always the case. Even with the Lowell Museum and Lowell NHS the city is still reliant on the boom and bust of the manufacturing industry, its attempts to create a post-industrial economy lagging behind the rest of Boston metro—with millions spent on an entertainment industry (including tourism) that doesn’t seem to have the benefits promoters believe it does.
Lowell is not the only urban preservation project in this country. Many cities all across the nation have developed historic districts and urban historical parks. The difference is historic districts remain in private hands, but any decision regarding renovation is subject to review by a historic preservation committee, often an intensive and expensive process. Originally developed as a counterpoint to urban renewal, historic districts have become the new urban renewal poster boys. They do cause property values and rents to rise, because history makes it “hip” to live and shop there, but as we also see in Lowell, housing usually isn’t affordable. In these cases it also isn’t new housing created, it is old affordable housing taken off the market as rents rise. On the other hand, it does preserve the character of an area and keeps America interesting.
Dorothy Lea laments that preserving America isn’t as natural as saving endangered species. Maybe it shouldn’t be. There is such a thing as too much of a “good” thing.
Both Cathy Stanton and Diane Lea leave out building codes that while do not preserve the historic character of a building; do preserve the historic vista of the property. The District of Columbia has such a rule, keeping the height limits of all buildings with D.C. below that of the statue on top of the Capitol Dome. All this code has done is pushed the towering behemoth from the center of town out into nearby suburbs such as Bethesda, MD. and Rossyln, VA.
Cathy Stanton’s book on Lowell, Massachusetts is an interesting look at urban historic preservation in America’s oldest manufacturing city. The book is combination of an anthropological look at the people involved in preservation, and a critical look at modern urban planning. Lowell, like many urban preservation projects, is a living city, while at the same time is also a historic entity. Stanton finds that many of those involved in the preservation of Lowell—both guides and consumers—have an insular existence when it comes to interacting with the city itself. Many want to do so, and think they are (such as those who take the tours of residential neighborhoods) but they just look, and do not interact. It becomes a situation in which tourists are served by a small number of community members, and you hope that the prosperity somehow trickles down to the rest of the city. As we have seen in Lowell—and elsewhere, just across the Anacostia River from the National Mall is Southeast Washington D.C., (a poverty-stricken neighborhood that a tourist only enters if their GPS badly routes them)—that isn’t always the case. Even with the Lowell Museum and Lowell NHS the city is still reliant on the boom and bust of the manufacturing industry, its attempts to create a post-industrial economy lagging behind the rest of Boston metro—with millions spent on an entertainment industry (including tourism) that doesn’t seem to have the benefits promoters believe it does.
Lowell is not the only urban preservation project in this country. Many cities all across the nation have developed historic districts and urban historical parks. The difference is historic districts remain in private hands, but any decision regarding renovation is subject to review by a historic preservation committee, often an intensive and expensive process. Originally developed as a counterpoint to urban renewal, historic districts have become the new urban renewal poster boys. They do cause property values and rents to rise, because history makes it “hip” to live and shop there, but as we also see in Lowell, housing usually isn’t affordable. In these cases it also isn’t new housing created, it is old affordable housing taken off the market as rents rise. On the other hand, it does preserve the character of an area and keeps America interesting.
Dorothy Lea laments that preserving America isn’t as natural as saving endangered species. Maybe it shouldn’t be. There is such a thing as too much of a “good” thing.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Which Launius exhibit do you want?
http://caliber.ucpress.net/doi/abs/10.1525/tph.2007.29.1.13
For those of you who aren't in Managing History here is a link to an article, at the end is a list of 10 exhibits that Launius wishes he could create at the National Air and Space Museum
which is your favorite?
Mine is Thinking about the Unthinkable: Cold War and the Nuclear Triad
although most of them look good.
For those of you who aren't in Managing History here is a link to an article, at the end is a list of 10 exhibits that Launius wishes he could create at the National Air and Space Museum
which is your favorite?
Mine is Thinking about the Unthinkable: Cold War and the Nuclear Triad
although most of them look good.
Controversial History
How do you deal with controversial history?
Do you shove it under the rug? Give it some tame euphemism? Confront it outright?
These are the questions that this week’s readings on slavery and technology discuss.
A history museum must do more than simply exist. It must engage and enrapture the visitor, while at the same time being aware that it cannot blaspheme or overtly distort history. If visitors do not enter the doors, the museum is not serving any purpose at all. As Slavery and Public History and The Public History of Science show controversial history is often overlooked, tamed, or forced out of the museum.
The difficulty is compounded when one tries to create an overarching national narrative. There is usually not one narrative of history, but several, each more controversial than the ones that were promulgated before. There is also the problem of trying to invoke a past that the entire nation doesn’t share. Rosensweig and Thelen have shown us that most people care about their family history, and those parts of the narrative that they can see themselves, or their family in, but do not care to share those parts of history where they do not see involvement.
Slavery has always been controversial in American life—although it didn’t solely cause the Civil War it didn’t help things any. There is no easy way to interpret slavery. Calling them “servants” or totally ignoring the subject is just bad history. But it is a difficult topic to approach. My personal feeling is that slavery should be portrayed as accurately as possible—a benevolent master (where credit is due) or cruel or indifferent one, some representation of slave quarters (even if it’s a diorama), and of course, if it is a “living history” museum, slaves themselves.
Funny side story: While walking through Old City Philadelphia a black interpreter approached me and asked if he looked like Thomas Jefferson—I asked if his last name was “Hemings”, but the reason he asked was somebody said he looked just like Thomas Jefferson.
Technological History can be almost as difficult to discuss. Especially when it comes to things such as the Enola Gay. (For those that do not know the Enola Gay was the bomber that dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima) Having not seen the Enola Gay exhibit I cannot comment specifically on it, but my hope is that it involved a discussion—not an absolute—of the necessity of dropping the A-bomb in the first place. This problem can be viewed down the road at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (USHMM). While discussing the American response (or more lack of response), you encounter a massive map of the Aushwitz-Birkenau camp complex. The purpose of the map is to show that the Allies knew of what was happening there, and knew how to stop it. It gives a very negative analysis of the reasons why America did not bomb the camps without giving full credence to reasons why that did not happen. (It’s on their website too http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/article.php?lang=en&ModuleId=10005182)
Controversial history is a tough nugget to deal with—especially in places where the history has been either obliterated or turned into office space—but it must be acknowledged. A museum with a one-dimensional narrative cannot properly evaluate all sides of a controversial problem. Perhaps this is the most important time when the final decision must be left to the visitor, all that can be done is ask thought provoking questions and provide as much evidence as possible.
Do you shove it under the rug? Give it some tame euphemism? Confront it outright?
These are the questions that this week’s readings on slavery and technology discuss.
A history museum must do more than simply exist. It must engage and enrapture the visitor, while at the same time being aware that it cannot blaspheme or overtly distort history. If visitors do not enter the doors, the museum is not serving any purpose at all. As Slavery and Public History and The Public History of Science show controversial history is often overlooked, tamed, or forced out of the museum.
The difficulty is compounded when one tries to create an overarching national narrative. There is usually not one narrative of history, but several, each more controversial than the ones that were promulgated before. There is also the problem of trying to invoke a past that the entire nation doesn’t share. Rosensweig and Thelen have shown us that most people care about their family history, and those parts of the narrative that they can see themselves, or their family in, but do not care to share those parts of history where they do not see involvement.
Slavery has always been controversial in American life—although it didn’t solely cause the Civil War it didn’t help things any. There is no easy way to interpret slavery. Calling them “servants” or totally ignoring the subject is just bad history. But it is a difficult topic to approach. My personal feeling is that slavery should be portrayed as accurately as possible—a benevolent master (where credit is due) or cruel or indifferent one, some representation of slave quarters (even if it’s a diorama), and of course, if it is a “living history” museum, slaves themselves.
Funny side story: While walking through Old City Philadelphia a black interpreter approached me and asked if he looked like Thomas Jefferson—I asked if his last name was “Hemings”, but the reason he asked was somebody said he looked just like Thomas Jefferson.
Technological History can be almost as difficult to discuss. Especially when it comes to things such as the Enola Gay. (For those that do not know the Enola Gay was the bomber that dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima) Having not seen the Enola Gay exhibit I cannot comment specifically on it, but my hope is that it involved a discussion—not an absolute—of the necessity of dropping the A-bomb in the first place. This problem can be viewed down the road at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (USHMM). While discussing the American response (or more lack of response), you encounter a massive map of the Aushwitz-Birkenau camp complex. The purpose of the map is to show that the Allies knew of what was happening there, and knew how to stop it. It gives a very negative analysis of the reasons why America did not bomb the camps without giving full credence to reasons why that did not happen. (It’s on their website too http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/article.php?lang=en&ModuleId=10005182)
Controversial history is a tough nugget to deal with—especially in places where the history has been either obliterated or turned into office space—but it must be acknowledged. A museum with a one-dimensional narrative cannot properly evaluate all sides of a controversial problem. Perhaps this is the most important time when the final decision must be left to the visitor, all that can be done is ask thought provoking questions and provide as much evidence as possible.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
What makes a good museum?
What makes a good museum? Are all museums good? How do you measure the quality of a museum? What is the value of an object?
These are all questions from the readings this week. Most are hard to answer, although the second should have an obvious one, NO. There are museums are bad, either because they do “bad history” or because they have not been able to articulate and make themselves matter.
A good museum is one with a clear purpose, adequate resources, efficient use, and good interpretation. A failure in any one of these areas will make a museum “bad”, and failures in multiple would probably put a museum under—or at least make it lightly visited.
Museums tread a fine line; they must balance the truth with what their visitors can stand to hear. A museum does not matter if it has no visitors, because regardless of how well they do any of the other factors, no one will know it exists. Often this can involve tempering the truth, offering it selectively, speaking in euphemisms. But sometimes one must stand up to the public, and surprise them with facts that might be troubling.
What is exhibited and how it is described is an important part of this equation. Whether it is a controversial work of art, or the “servants quarters” of a historic home, controversial exhibits bring questions, and often make people think about the past, present, and future in new ways. Today museums matter because they encourage thought and reflection in ways that the average person understands.
But how does one determine if a museum is meeting these new goals. One way is AAM accreditation, another is a new assessment program that helps museums compare themselves to each other, in a way this is beneficial, it helps one to understand what else the field is doing. But Stephen Weil points out a problem with this model, the resources of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and the South Cupcake Art Museum are entirely different, one simply cannot compare with another. SCAM may be the only cultural institution in town, therefore it must not only exhibit art, but serve the other needs of the community as well, it probably also has less resources to do this, so instead of staging massive art exhibits, SCAM would stage smaller exhibits, perhaps some live music shows, school programs, and other community events. But does the lack of a major collection (even one major work) make SCAM a scam? If its purpose is to serve the community in multiple ways, then it is doing its job well, but if SCAM wants to be PMA, then it truly is a scam.
These are all questions from the readings this week. Most are hard to answer, although the second should have an obvious one, NO. There are museums are bad, either because they do “bad history” or because they have not been able to articulate and make themselves matter.
A good museum is one with a clear purpose, adequate resources, efficient use, and good interpretation. A failure in any one of these areas will make a museum “bad”, and failures in multiple would probably put a museum under—or at least make it lightly visited.
Museums tread a fine line; they must balance the truth with what their visitors can stand to hear. A museum does not matter if it has no visitors, because regardless of how well they do any of the other factors, no one will know it exists. Often this can involve tempering the truth, offering it selectively, speaking in euphemisms. But sometimes one must stand up to the public, and surprise them with facts that might be troubling.
What is exhibited and how it is described is an important part of this equation. Whether it is a controversial work of art, or the “servants quarters” of a historic home, controversial exhibits bring questions, and often make people think about the past, present, and future in new ways. Today museums matter because they encourage thought and reflection in ways that the average person understands.
But how does one determine if a museum is meeting these new goals. One way is AAM accreditation, another is a new assessment program that helps museums compare themselves to each other, in a way this is beneficial, it helps one to understand what else the field is doing. But Stephen Weil points out a problem with this model, the resources of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and the South Cupcake Art Museum are entirely different, one simply cannot compare with another. SCAM may be the only cultural institution in town, therefore it must not only exhibit art, but serve the other needs of the community as well, it probably also has less resources to do this, so instead of staging massive art exhibits, SCAM would stage smaller exhibits, perhaps some live music shows, school programs, and other community events. But does the lack of a major collection (even one major work) make SCAM a scam? If its purpose is to serve the community in multiple ways, then it is doing its job well, but if SCAM wants to be PMA, then it truly is a scam.
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