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Monday, October 25, 2010

The Union League and The Conservation Center

As my time between posts has been inordinate, I fear wasting anyone else's with the more mundane details of my life recently -- it would undoubtedly require the readership's stifling of many a yawn throughout my yarn. I would like to take the opportunity, therefore, to highlight two of my recent field trips: the Union League of Philadelphia, and the Conservation Center for Art & Historic Artifacts.

The Union League has loomed large over much of my time in Philly, quite literally; its placement kitty-corner from TPC makes for a startling work of architecture amid the skyscrapers of Center City -- many of which the Union League trumps nonetheless with its powerful presence and arcane aesthetic. Founded in 1862 to support President Lincoln and the Union during the tumult of the Civil War, the functionality of the institution has changed markedly, although many of its standards have not; despite my attendance at a meeting for the Civil War Consortium -- counting many of the premier cultural institutions of Philadelphia among its members, including the Rosenbach -- the Union League's dress code was explicitly outlined, with jacket and tie among its requirements. A tour following the aforementioned meeting elucidated the Union League's historical relevance from its inception onward; stately Sullys were situated strategically beside portraits of every Republican U.S. president, and a marvelous statue of Lincoln was bordered by a singular collection of Civil War-era books in the Lincoln Memorial Room. The gentlema... erm, patriotic social club's collection of paintings also included an unforgettable work (in scale and stature) of George Washington by the aforementioned Thomas Sully, two individuals I can't help but become intimately familiar with in a city of such deep historical relevance as Philadelphia.

While the Conservation Center for Art & Historic Artifacts has a decidedly more muted facade than the Union League, the objects inside were equally impressive -- and ever-changing! From the Rosenbach's own John Henry Brown journal to daguerreotypes, enrollment lists, maps, and illustrations by Disney himself, almost every imaginable form of media was in the process of conservation, providing a fascinating glimpse at the "during" stages of such intricate work. The knowledge base of the staff at the Conservation Center was astounding; in addition to the training necessary for curators, a strong foundation in chemistry -- organic chemistry included -- is prerequisite for work that often involves, for instance, the submersion of highly soluble objects into water. The eclectic demography of the Conservation Center was also a neat surprise; in the inherently classed structures of cultural institutions, seeing an array of individuals bound only by their passion for preservation (and buffed fingernails!) was settling, in ways. Needless to say, I am extremely lucky to have had the opportunity to visit both the Union League of Philadelphia and the Conservation Center for Art & Historic Artifacts, as both buildings house magnificent collections and are illustrious examples of Philadelphia's historical relevance within the larger US cultural and historical scene.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Knocking on the Cabinet of Curiosity's Door

Recently I’ve been searching the APS Library and Museum collections for thematic connections that could translate into a potential future exhibition theme. Specifically, the APS Museum is looking to put on another “Treasures Revealed” exhibition which brings forth wondrous artifacts from the inner cabinets of dusty history and presents their unique life stories to curious visitors. For example, the last Treasures Revealed exhibition included Lewis and Clark’s field journals, Eugene Buguet’s gothic photographs of spirits communicating with clairvoyants, and the Works of Confucius & his disciples, a book bound in human skin.

Because we both work in an area that is devoted to the history of the Founding Fathers, I’ve spoken to Anne (fellow Fellow) about the Independence National Historic Park museum/library/offices’ worship of all things Great White Male. Benjamin Franklin and Lewis and Clark are two of the APS’s beloved mascots. Therefore I appreciate the mission of the APS Museum to give air-time to other (Other?) significant people/events/objects who also shaped our nation’s character. Their 2006 exhibition, The Princess and The Patriot, celebrates the achievements of some of the first female members of the APS. Because of this precedent, I’ve been wondering how I could bring forth collections material that are currently unidentified or do not fit with the majority of the collection strengths.

The objects that I have chosen to research have led me into the cracks between the collection catalogues where 27 item donations from 1797 have curiously become a 10 item remainder and where 19th century replicas/fakes of original Aztec art masquerade in mystery. My cosmic question is how to present these items as treasures that fit with what the APS Museum defines as a ‘treasure’? In the past “Treasures Revealed” exhibition there were a few Inuit and unidentified American Indian artifacts that did not go through to the final object list because the researchers couldn’t accumulate enough of the right kind of information for a complete and relevant story. Unfortunately, I have been having the same kind of road-blocks with my own research but Lyndsey Rago Claro has been a great help and advisor so I can look forward to leaving an educational and comprehensive packet of potential exhibition material for a few artifacts in our collection.

Now I can’t help this next part because I’ve been trained to sniff out and (over) analyze the current living habits of historic disparities between human populations/communities. I am sensitive to throwing around these ‘-ist’ words (racist, classist, sexist, and their many friends) because I think people resist recognizing their pervasive influences in the assumedly “safe” and “politically correct” arenas of academe and liberal arts. These words put people on the defensive because they connote shame and blame. I’m not a friend of these words but I am a participant in our examination of them, so the way that I talk about these issues may be more bold or off-hand than others are used to.

Therefore, while I am going through the APS’s manuscript and material collections, I am trying to apply my specific skill set as a student of these ‘-ist’ words so that my contribution to the APS Museum will be significant because it is something that is unique to me and what I can offer. My time in class and in the city is a part of this perspective. Last week my Education and Difference at Work class visited the Belmont Charter School in West Philadelphia where each of us entered the classrooms of 2nd-4th graders. Besides being an inspirational experience that has turned me on to education as a career, my time at Belmont helped me brainstorm ideas for Treasures Objects—what would the children from my Belmont classroom want to see in a small history of science museum? These kinds of questions bring up the ‘-ist’ words because exhibition preparation has to take into account who we are serving, what is our intent, and as a consequence how can we broaden our reach? I’ve been excited to see how, as the Museum is becoming a professional icon, the shows and public programming are finding ways to serve under privileged neighborhoods…I hope my own interests and research will connect with these communities in some way.

I am currently pulling together past research that the APS Museum staff had begun on some of these “unidentified” or “random” collection objects that are testimonies of histories other than Benjamin Franklin and Co. There are lots of promising artifacts that ran into a dead end because they couldn’t fit in with the exhibition’s themes or because of technicalities with rights and reproduction laws. Sometimes I worry that if these objects are displayed that acts like NAGPRA (Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act) will require the APS Museum to return the objects, which is “good” but also a loss for the Museum (interesting ideas of identity through ownership going on here…) So that’s what’s up in my neck of the woods and I’m optimistic about the results!

Friday, October 15, 2010

The Unexpected

In my first post, I talked about contributing to an upcoming exhibit space inside the First Bank:

Despite setbacks, the staff are hoping to open the first floor of the bank building to the public as the new site of the archaeology lab. If their plan pans out, the second and third floors would remain split between storage and office space and the basement would remain somewhat creepy and totally awesome.

It turns out the Bank is open to the public much earlier than expected. I haven’t gotten all of the details straightened out yet, but I figure that’s what the ‘edit’ button is for. There hasn’t been time to ask too many questions with the urgency of First Bank’s debut. Though not all of the grand plans for the Living History Center have worked out yet because of time constraints, much of what was planned (my panels included) will be added at the pace originally intended.

The park’s Living History Center used to be in an annex of the old Visitor’s Center. It stands on Third Street, directly across the street from First Bank. The Visitor’s Center was purchased by an outside group, as detailed in this article. They hope to raze the building and construct their own museum, focusing on the US War for Independence (1775-1783). In anticipation of the move, the Living History Center (seemingly) packed up and moved to a small, but functional temporary location for the winter.

In a surprise twist of incredible timing, which set the events in my post in motion, I am happy to inform you that October is Pennsylvania Archaeology Month! It being such a month, the Living History Center is open to the public. Without lights, air conditioning, or much free floor-space to work with, the Bank building needed lots of work done to prepare the small exhibit on the park’s archaeological digs. Watching everyone present pull an exhibit together so efficiently was, for lack of better word, inspiring. I was lucky to be there during the install.

Despite the unexpected rush, the staff weren’t careless or bitter. The install illustrates two things I have noticed favorably among the staff during my placement. They are incredibly focused on getting a job done and keeping everyone safe during work. Both traits are a joy to watch.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Philly and the Rosenbach

Much like Natasha and Ann, my time in Philadelphia thus far can only be described with superlatives. I am particularly pleased with my experience at the Rosenbach Museum and Library, one of the (many) hidden gems in the robust academe scene here. In a few short weeks, I have had the privilege of holding John Brown's letters, one of which was written in the days before his execution following the Harpers Ferry raid; Cervantes' first published edition of Don Quixote, widely regarded as the first modern novel; and James Joyce's Ulysses manuscript, considered by many to be the epitome of the modernist movement, among many other fascinating objects. I have been given two main projects thus far at the Rosenbach, each of which has been instrumental in introducing me to the multifarious nature of work at cultural institutions.

In commemoration of the upcoming sesquicentennial of the Civil War, the Rosenbach has planned an exhibition chronicling the factors leading to our nation’s most fractured era through its collections, and I have the incredible opportunity to contribute a subtheme to the exhibit. From choosing the pertinent objects for display, to determining a compelling and informative storyline through which to connect each of the items, even to creating labels and citations for the exhibit, I have, in an intensive three weeks of work, been exposed to the process of exhibition development – in many ways, similar to the construction of a research paper, but with additional elements of artistic license and intimacy in working with manuscripts, letters, and other media. Academic research in topics of interest is engaging enough, but it pales in comparison to the potentiality of educating the masses through exhibition development.

My other focus thus far at the Rosenbach has been in relation to Marianne Moore, the (decidedly) American modernist poet whose works are largely housed in the library. While the Rosenbach is dedicated to programming and education as a museum open to the public, its library is equally valued as a resource to researchers and other scholars; and with a significant portion of Moore’s work among its collections, many who engage in research at the Rosenbach are particularly interested in her papers. The logistics behind permissions and property rights are still rather unfamiliar to me, but in essence, I have been assigned to make sure that research and related work has been properly acknowledged as done through the library’s collections – thus, I am gaining invaluable insight on the methods and procedures of academic research on both sides of the equation, individually and institutionally. There are additional side projects that I have begun working on as well – manuscript transcriptions and independent research, in particular – that, in all, have framed an unequivocally positive experience thus far at the Rosenbach Museum and Library.

Friday, October 1, 2010

A Few Firsts

The First Bank. You can see its very tiny label in the bottom
left corner of the window to the right of the front door.

The First Bank of the United States

The First Bank of the United States acted as an early commercial bank and regulated of currency. The bank also served as the US government’s fiscal agent during its chartered life (1791-1811). It was an integral part of Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton’s overarching plan to stimulate the struggling US economy. During its first years of operation, Carpenter’s Hall housed the bank. In 1797, the bank moved to its own, permanent location nearby at 116 South Third Street. The building is currently a part of the Independence National Historical Park (INHP). Though its textbook name is First Bank, the distinction of ‘first’ came long after the bank had ceased operations to differentiate from the nearby ‘second’ bank of the same name.

After the Bank of the United States’ charter expired in 1811, local merchant Stephen Girard bought the property and opened his own bank. The building remained a bank until the Girard National Bank moved to a new building in center city in 1926. The original interior of the Bank of the United States is largely unknown because the bank has few surviving records to work with. Documentation is especially between the years of 1800 and 1901. From the few photographs and written accounts, the NPS knows the first floor originally contained a barrel vaulted ceiling running east-west that was held by a series of Corinthian columns. All banking took place on the first floor. The original layout of the second floor and third floor are unknown.

With the sole exception of the basement, the entire interior of the bank was gutted for renovations in 1901. James H. Windrim is credited with redesigning the interior of the bank. The center of the first floor was opened up into a rotunda and topped by a massive skylight. Series of Corinthian columns hold up the rotunda and skylight on the first and second floors. Also, a large winding staircase and elevator were added to the back (west) end of the bank. The NPS acquired the Bank of the United States from the City of Philadelphia in 1954 and it is currently not in use.

The First Project of a CRM Intern

Lucky for you, I’m not just posting on random historic buildings because it’s the trendy thing to do. In my semester-long quest to do what work has been sitting around for ages, I am preparing exhibit panels for the Bank of the United States. The above is a very diluted version of the bank building outline I made using the park’s collection of Historic Structure Reports as preliminary reading. To supplement the reports, I am currently in between a small mountain of books concerning Finance and Classical architectural themes in the early United States. Hopefully, I'll gain a bit of fluency in both. Alongside reading, I’ve also located images of the bank and related records within the park's collections. There are also a few local collections I need to look into that are not affiliated with the National Park Service, but seem promising. Reading books about commerce and porticoes isn’t all there is in the Cultural Resources Management (CRM) department. There are also statues, ceramic shards, historic wallpapers, government bureaucracy, and all sorts of fantastic museum professionals! There are a ton of fascinating things I am excited to have the opportunity to take part in, but I think I’ll take this blogging business one thing at a time.

My search for a general understanding of the Bank of the United States isn’t entirely random, either. From my office window, I can see a steady stream of park visitors wander past the bank. People take pictures of the façade, try to decipher the roman numerals on the entablature, and generally look very confused. To many, the building stands as a point of interest in part because it isn’t labeled very well. Though it’s rare for uniformed park staff to not be nearby, I often walk by the bank building and overhear someone curious as to what they are looking at. Closed to the public and somewhat isolated, the bank building doesn’t provide much in the way of context all by its lonesome self.

National Park Service staff have used the Bank of the United States building as the park welcome center, storage, offices, and then storage again. The bank's days as storage will (hopefully) soon draw to close. Despite setbacks, the staff are hoping to open the first floor of the bank building to the public as the new site of the Independence Living History Center (archaeology lab). If their plan pans out, the second and third floors would remain split between storage and office space and the basement would remain somewhat creepy and totally awesome.

Along with doing research and preparing exhibit materials, CRM staff also look after the maintenance, management, and preservation of the Independence National Historical Park’s cultural resources. The CRM staff are overall very dedicated to their work and I'm thankful to have the chance to work with them this fall. Below are some links that have to do with CRM and a reference to the historic structures report I derived the First Bank summary from.