Permissions: The Other Side

The research process has always been an exciting application of quasi-scientific methods within humanities; proper formatting, whether bibliographical or page numbering, provides just enough rigidity that a standard can be set and subsequently conformed to, shifting the creative focus appropriately to the utilization of sources and proliferation of final products (i.e., the paper itself.) And while the taboo of plagiarism often looms large over the conscientious writer, the consequences of such a ethical violation often remain isolated to in-house discipline, without an understanding of the broader implications of such action within the scholarly community.

As the Rosenbach holds the papers, and library, and living room, of Marianne Moore among their collections, she is a figure of much study within the confines of the Museum & Library. And while I have been aware of the forms needed from researchers before their work on Moore begins, working with the files of research on her elucidates her importance within the poetry community. Beginning with a compilation of reference works the Rosenbach already holds, I have now begun to sort through the files of scholars who examined her materials, finding out which researchers had their work published, and confirming proper citations to the Rosenbach. A gratis copy is also a requirement of publication on Rosenbach holdings; it has been truly shocking to note how many researchers were not compliant with these two conditions of permission. (The files aren't particularly welcoming, either, perhaps distorting my perception of the extent of "transgressors" in the academe.) However -- especially as someone interested in pursuing a career that would consist of such research -- the work I have done on her files is as personally beneficial as it is exciting to read from some of the most prolific scholars' and poets' work done at, and inspired by, the Rosenbach. Examining some of the older files also contextualizes the Rosenbach as an institution rich with history, and expertise, within its collections; among the organization's former staff members are the executor of the Marianne Moore estate, as well as a preeminent Moore scholar, whose knowledge of Modernism in poetry facilitated a position at Yale's prestigious Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library. Despite my ineptitude regarding poetry, seeing so many creative and compelling analyses of one individual's work by the academe is a true inspiration for my own research interests and goals.

Class Is In Session

Hello, All,

I have recently made the decision (semi-forced because of approaching deadlines) to take a gap year before applying to graduate school. The reason why this is relevant to TPC and the APS Museum will make sense soon.

Last year I was in a semester long program that was the scholarly parallel of TPC: it was a test run for students who were considering graduate school rather than immediate careers/forays into the "real world." Although I struggled with the deadlines for writing papers, I felt confident that I was excited for graduate school. But when I got back to campus for my junior year I saw my friends applying (and accepting) programs to do research or teach abroad and to do other exciting, challenging adventures. I remember adamantly believing that I would break with my father's wishes and enroll in a similar program, but here I am applying to graduate programs...

Now that I am one week away from my first GRE and less than a month away from my first grad school application deadline, I am (in typical Natasha style) realizing that I am procrastinating and stalling for a reason. This is where my story becomes relevant :)

TPC has stressed that the world is a challenging and worthwhile classroom to explore; the APS Museum has modeled how academics can find engaging careers outside of the ivory tower. When I think about my life as a set of courses, I notice that I am barely managing passing grades in "Time Management" and "Work Environment." I value being a well-rounded person; maybe this is the only chance in my life that I will have to "study" for and "pass" these courses?

This is an announcement to myself that I am willing to take on the challenge of re-invigoration. I want to find a way to re-invent what I thought was my "for-sure" future as an English Major. Now I sound a bit like Obama. These are broad declarations of Change I Can Hope For but what I can pragmatically believe in are these next few days of stress and fear. I don't think I'll go back on this decision but I am very grateful for the advice and support of the staff at both TPC and the APS Museum. I already have some employment leads that may lead to a more genuine future grad school application.

Don't really know how relevant this post is, but it's what's going on right now :)

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.

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 19^th 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 2^nd-4^th 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!

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.