The Value of Archives for Students of History

                On our last day of class, we discussed our evaluation of this Archives and Manuscripts course. We unanimously agreed that records management was our least favorite thing to learn about, but as is the way with records management, it’s a dry, but necessary component of understanding archives.

                One of the questions that I had tinkered with throughout the semester was: Why aren’t all of the history graduate students required to take this course? And what about the undergraduate history majors? To me, it just seemed obvious. If historians-in-the-making aren’t aware of how records are created and placed in the archives, how can they more competently question the sources with which they’re working to construct their various arguments?

                That is not to say that no one has discussed archives in traditional history courses. My historical methods class delved into power and silences in the archive, but focused very little on these creations. The archives are one of the primary, if not the primary source, of information for historians. The provenance of documents is just as important as their contents. Historians, myself included, need to understand how records change hands and what this means for the information that they’re using to create their historical arguments.

                As I said in class, I think taking this course in a modified version for traditional-track history students would be beneficial to training historians more effectively. As evidenced in several comments in class, there is a working tension between the academy and those outside of it. But to more effectively practice history, there needs to be some sort of consensus in how public and office historians can work together. Taking a course in archival theory might be a step towards achieving that goal.  

Oral History - Immediacy

                Oral history is the process by which interviews are recorded to document the lives and stories of everyday people as they describe their experiences during important historical events. As I conducted my research for my final paper, I found that several scholars had traced the roots of oral history to the archives themselves. Several archives create oral history projects and its own archivists even conduct these interviews to expand the scope of their collections in support of their mission.

                One particular example that I found to be the most fascinating was Columbia University’s September 11, 2001, Oral History Narrative and Memory Project. In the days and weeks following 9/11, Columbia’s Oral History Research Office prepared the project to interview as many different people as possible to gain an understanding of people’s thoughts and emotions of those living in New York City in the midst of the chaos. It was an inclusive project, recording the voices and memories of hundreds of people, including Afghan-Americans, immigrants, refugees, and other marginalized groups who faced fear-based violence from other Americans in such a time of uncertainty.

                What most interested me about the project was that the project was conducted just a few weeks after 9/11. During my first week of graduate school last year, I learned that one of the four pillars of public history is immediacy. Public historians ask themselves what a particular community needs at any given moment. In the case of Columbia’s project, the immediacy of 9/11 was more than evident.

                I do think that conducting projects in the midst of important events serves to create a valuable piece of historical documentation for the future. However, it is also concerning that the oral historians in this case are also affected, at least indirectly, by the events of 9/11 as well. They lived, worked, and played in New York City and its surrounding areas just as their informants did. Archivists, of course, are never neutral in any of these scenarios, but their participation in this project is especially contentious because they also have experiences that may color the way in which they conduct interviews. Perhaps this is a positive thing because it becomes a way to connect with informants and potentially better shapes the narrative. Either way, Columbia’s foresight in creating this record will be an invaluable record of one of the most defining moments of American history. 

On Preserving Star Wars Audio Tapes

       I always receive a shocked reaction (and sometimes outright anger) when I reveal that I have never seen Star Wars. I promise it's on my list, but training to become a public historian has taken up quite a bit of my time at the moment.

     But what I did recently learn about Star Wars is that to preserve the audio recordings of the original films, Hollywood engineers are baking the tapes as a method of preservation![1] I remember we had discussed this method in class, but it was intriguing to see this process was used on such a valuable piece of popular culture.

     Baking the audio reels helps to slow the process of "sticky-shed syndrome," a condition in which the glue that holds the magnetic tape together begins to come apart. Baking the reels at a low temperature helps to reactivate the magnetic bonds for a period of time, but it can do only do so much and is only sometimes effective. This is an issue faced at other archives as well, though I wonder about the precedents of this method. The Atlantic reported on this strange preservation case, citing other precedents in which The British Museum bakes the cuneiform tablets at over 1300 degrees Fahrenheit. While the Star Wars reels are baked at very low temperatures, it is an interesting measure to slow deterioration.

     In 2002 Jim Wheeler created the Videotape Preservation Handbook. In it, Wheeler describes the symptoms of "sticky-shed syndrome." A strange gummy film develops on the tape's surface, which over time, can begin to distort the film itself. Wheeler explains that the baking process should be repeated to continually solve the problem, but it is no permanent fix. [2]

     What is certainly interesting about this particular example is that science, archival preservation techniques, and popular culture all feed into one another. The deterioration process is for the time being inevitable, but measures are being taken to convert the film to other formats so that not all is lost.

A Case of Strange Provenance

          An isolated incident of apartment renovation in Budapest turned into an archival miracle and historical breakthrough. The Telegraph reports that while a Hungarian couple renovated their Budapest apartment this year, they found Holocaust-era documents tucked into a hole in the wall. What was hidden in the walls were 6300 immaculately preserved 1944 census records that documented Budapest just before the liquidation of its over 200,000 Hungarian Jews. The documents listed the name of every individual that lived in each apartment building in Budapest, including inhabitants’ religious affiliation. After the census was completed, large groups of Hungarian Jews were moved into “Yellow Star Houses.” With this discovery, historians can better understand the latter two years of World War II and the Nazi occupation of Hungary. You can read more about it here: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/hungary/12009564/Nazi-holocaust-documents-found-behind-wall-of-Budapest-apartment.html.

            The discovery is not only intriguing for its content, but also for the physical condition of the records. The couple donated the records to the Budapest City Archives, where head archivist Istvan Kenyeres was astounded at the pristine state of condition of the documents. With the exception of yellowing, the ink was still legible on the documents. The archival staff is now working to literally iron out the papers for future storage and use.  

            But what is most intriguing is that the documents were found within the encasings of a wall. We’ve discussed in class that archivists make extensive contacts with donors and other institutions in locating sources of documents. However, I imagine that the strange discovery of documents like this makes provenance an interesting factor in assessing the history and value of the records. The Telegraph doesn’t make mention of any understanding of how the records ended up there in the first place. Who stored them there and why?

            This is an interesting case study in how documents are found, and I imagine that archivists come across situations like this at least once in their career. I wonder what other documents are out there hiding somewhere just waiting to be found. Finding out how they were placed where they were is the challenge of provenance, especially in a situation like this where secrecy was likely involved. I hope the answer sheds light on the content of the documents themselves. 

Otto Frank as Co-Author of Anne's Diary: Issues of Copyright and Authorship

             On November 13, The New York Times released an article that announced that the copyright on “The Diary of Anne Frank” would be extended for another seventy years. Initially set to expire on January 1^st in many parts of Europe, the diary’s copyright was extended after Anne’s father Otto Frank was designated co-author for his editorial contributions. The Swiss foundation that owns the copyright declared that this entitled an extension of copyright. Otto Frank died in 1980, so the copyright is set to end in 2050. You can read more about it here: http://www.nytimes.com/2015/11/14/books/anne-frank-has-a-co-as-diary-gains-co-author-in-legal-move.html.

            The situation is also complicated by the fact that Anne’s legacy is managed by several different parties. This includes the Anne Frank House museum in the Netherlands and the Swiss-based Anne Frank Fonds. For the last five years, the Anne Frank House had been working with historians and researchers to publish a web-based version of the diary once it came under public domain. However, these efforts will not immediately launch as a result of these proceedings. Following the war, Mr. Frank dispersed much of Anne’s tangible legacy to various institutions, which makes the matter more complicated. We’ve seen this time and again in issues of ownership and copyright when things are donated to archival institutions.

            It is also a basic issue of creator and provenance. The Anne Frank House museum issued a statement and countered that Anne is the sole author of her diary.[1] However, an extension of the copyright will limit Anne’s legacy rather than further it, which seems counter to what the Anne Frank Fonds wants to accomplish. The stewards of the Anne Frank Museum, as part of their mission, hope to “disseminate” the life of Anne as widely as possible. This recent development hinders in some ways their ability to achieve their mission. It will be interesting to see how the story plays out and how the archival institution within the House museum fights to demand that the copyright enter into the public domain.

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[1] http://www.annefrank.org/en/News/News/2015/November/Copyright-diary-papers/

Digitization

                  In this week’s readings, we were introduced to the world of digitization – a world still without a compass for navigation the digital realm, but one which archivists and other cultural institutions are bravely taking on.

                  The historian Roy Rosenzweig, founder of the Center for New Media at George Mason University, wrote an article that described the pitfalls of the digital era. How will historians craft their histories when there is even more information and documents to choose from? This “culture of abundance” makes it more challenging to construct histories, especially when future historians will work with digital documents that are even less stable than their paper counterparts. Rosenzweig published this article in 2003, and today’s world is vastly different just twelve years later. We now have Google Drive and various cloud services, the iPhone, among other innovations. But many of these questions and problems still remain.

                  It’s especially difficult when you’re working even just to digitize paper documents, let alone worrying about born-digital files. Digitization efforts cost institutions quite a bit of money, and institutions are already strapped for cash. I found it interesting that Rosenzweig made a call for historians to also concern themselves with the preservation of digital material. I’m not sure under which model this would happen, seeing as graduate programs are already under such financial and staffing constraints.

                  Even so, Rosenzweig makes a major point. Historians are substantial archival users, and they should also concern themselves with these materials as the profession moves further into the digital era. Archivists, however, will play a major role in assessing the value of this information in order to weed out information that will undoubtedly take up too much space. I’d be interested to see if any collaborations transpire between historians and archivists as the trajectory of the history profession moves towards the digital course.

                 

                  

Outreach - NARA at Philadelphia

This week, we discussed another facet of an archives functions – outreach and advocacy. Initially, I saw the two terms as being synonymous, though upon examining the readings and listening to our class discussions, it became clear that while they feed into another, they are two different functions. Oftentimes, outreach and advocacy occur simultaneously.

           

Discussing outreach in class reminded me of an initiative that I became aware of when I was first introduced to the world of cultural institutions in Philadelphia. About three years ago, I volunteered at the National Archives at Philadelphia (Hi, Grace!), where I worked with its education specialist, Andrea “Ang” Reidell. I worked on a few different projects in the education department. I helped Ang with several teacher’s workshops, National History projects, and a myriad of other outreach initiatives. But the one that stuck out to me the most was her project with Esperanza Academy.

            Esperanza Academy, a Philadelphia high school, has a large number of Hispanic students. Ang developed a partnership with the school to bring in students to use the archives to create family histories, a project called La Historia de Mi Familia. Many students’ families had emigrated from Puerto Rico, which meant that as a commonwealth of the United States, NARA had these holdings. Students not only developed skills in archival literacy and primary source documents, but they constructed stories and projects based off of what they found. The project also expanded further when many students interviewed their family members and looked within their own families’ treasure troves of photographs and letters that might help them to construct a narrative of their ancestry.

            This project was an effective way to increase NARA’s visibility and strength its relationship to different corners of the city, but it also gave students valuable skills. As we discussed in class, however, many cultural institutions don’t have adequate staff that can take on such large-scale recurring projects. The value of the archives in this regard is apparent, but more needs to be done to expend more resources on similar initiatives. I hope to see and contribute to different outreach models that enhance an institution and its surrounding neighborhood of users.

Lost Documents: The Case of the "Declaration of Sentiments"

          About two weeks ago, the Washington Post published an article entitled "White House is searching for the origins of women's rights." Reported the article, the White House chief technology officer Megan Smith wanted to track down the "Declaration of Sentiments," the document passed at the 1848 Seneca Falls convention organized by and for women in the pursuit of equal political, social, and economic rights. You can read more about it here:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/post-politics/wp/2015/10/14/the-white-house-is-searching-for-the-origins-of-feminism/.

          The only problem is: the document is missing and seems to always have been.

          We know the exact contents of the document because it was published by The North Star and undoubtedly a part of contemporary national media discourse. Smith attempted to track down the original Declaration at the National Archives, but because it's not a federal document, it was never housed in any NARA institution. So, Smith is essentially going on a national hunt to see if anyone knows where it might be housed.

          Is the Declaration housed in an archives? Is it owned by an individual? Or, is it gone forever? The value of the document is obvious, but its absence speaks volumes. For me, the issue is more than just that its missing, but who will house it if it's ever found? David Ferriero, the Archivist of the United States, explicitly stated that it was not currently housed at NARA. However, I wonder if the federal government would ever take possession of it. Perhaps it would be appropriate for the document to be housed in Seneca Falls, New York, but to accession it as a federal document would also make a watershed moment in women's history central rather than peripheral to the American historical narrative.

          Either way, I hope it's found one day. And even though the document itself is lost, its central concept of equality for women has certainly not been lost on us today.

Still Defending Archivists

                At the beginning of the semester, we were introduced to the question “What is an archivist?”. I wrote my first class blog on this very topic and defined it that first week, where I wrote “An archivist processes, manages, and makes available a variety of media that serve audiences in their pursuit of knowledge.” Now that we’re about halfway through the semester, I thought it would be a good time to reflect on my first definition and see d since I initially wrote it.

                In the last couple of weeks, though, I’ve noticed that my own definition is a scant coverage of what archivists actually do. Archivists are also grant writers, budget managers, negotiators, preservationists, timekeepers, researchers, exhibit builders, digital developers, social stewards and communicators, etc. etc. and the list goes on infinitely. It’s certainly a far cry from “the archivist in the stack” image I had before going to college.

                While that captures the nuance, importance, and challenges of the archival profession, it still doesn’t get to the heart of the matter. Why are the archives themselves important – and how would I articulate that value for someone in an elevator speech? We’ve seen over the weeks, as has argued David Bearman in his chapter on “Access and Use” that archives are only reaching small portions of the population. About one in four people will access the National Archives at least once.[1] Archives are important because they are the sources of information that promote a stake in society, both in the past and the present. Perhaps the sooner archives are introduced in our educational lives, the more people are aware of their value. This isn’t a new argument, but if there is more an investment archives from beginning educational ages with programs such as National History Day, archivists might have to spend less time defending their profession and their collections.

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[1] David Bearman. "Access and Use." Chapter 4 in Archival Methods. Pittsburgh: Archives and Museum Informatics Technical Reports, Vol. 3, no. 1, Spring 1989. pp. 39-48. http://www.archimuse.com/publishing/archival_methods/#ch4.

 

Disaster Management: 1973 Fire in St. Louis at the Military Personnel Records Center

In this week's class, we discussed several different topics including audiovisual and photographic preservation, as well as the difference between conservation and preservation. What I found to be most interesting was our discussion on disaster management. Having worked at several institutions where disasters have occurred, I've witnessed firsthand the implications of unexpected events, even if the institution was properly prepared. 

This past summer, I interned at Independence National Historical Park, where a fire broke out in the basement of the Second Bank of the United States. I worked on the conservation effort helping to mitigate soot presence on over 10,000 artifacts. However, it is intriguing to see how the cleanup and conservation effort is handled in an archival setting where not only the physical copies can be damaged, but the actual information contained within them can be permanently erased. 

A particular case study is the July 1973 fire that erupted within the Military Personnel Records Center (MPRC) just outside of St. Louis. The MPRC held over 22 million records that documented the service of Army, Army Air Force, and Air Force veterans between 1912 and 1963. You can read more about it here: https://www.archives.gov/publications/prologue/2013/spring/stl-fire.pdf 

While the fire damaged over 70 percent of the MPRC's records, the incident proved fundamental in sparking new disaster management protocols. This included installing fire suppression sprinklers, as well as new strategies for conserving damaged documents. The first thought that comes to mind, however, is: how are veterans and their families to access records that relate to them if they've been damaged? The Records Reconstruction Branch helps to make the information in burned records available to those who seek it, though some information is undoubtedly lost forever. It is certainly a loss of power for an archives, but it also affects veterans' access to important benefits they are eligible for through the state. 

Disasters within archives, such as this one, are detriments to larger archival functions and purpose. However, they established precedents that demonstrated the importance of preparedness for possible disasters and protocols for appropriate response. 

The Power of Archives

This past week, our classmates took the floor to discuss various topics in the archives world that pertained to our particular interests. I noticed that the nature of the archival focus was split between the class. While half of us focused on individual archives, others spoke about local archival institutions or an online archival presence. About half of us spoke about federal records site, which was an intriguing opening to a conversation about the inherent power of the archives. 

The focus on U.S. government-owned archives is not surprising. It often has the most visibility, as it documents a "grand sweep - type" history of the United States. It is one of the biggest sources of historical power. As Mark Greene explained in "The Power of Archives", the power of the archives and the archivist comes, in part, from "shaping the historical record." (Greene 20). As the visibility of government archives is often more apparent than private ones for its roots in authority, it seems to represent those who are powerful and neglects the powerless.

So, how do you represent groups that are all but absent from the archives? Keith brought up in last week's class some of the readings that we had consulted our first year of graduate school that delved into this issue. The historian Saidiya Hartman, in "Venus in Two Acts" wrestled with properly documenting the experiences of enslaved women in the Atlantic world. Hartman articulates the ultimate struggle, "Is it possible to construct a story from “the locus of impossible speech” or resurrect lives from the ruins? Can beauty provide an antidote to dishonor, and love a way to “exhume buried cries” and reanimate the dead?" (Hartman 2).

Historians can't transcend what does exist in the historical record. That would violate the virtues of our profession and some semblance of truth that exists. Even so, archives hold all sorts of documents that can lead us to historically oppressed groups, but it sometimes takes being a little creative. I've had friends tell me they search all kinds of archives for store registries for purchases made by women, or journals, and any other number of ways to document the experiences of those silenced by the archives. Government archives hold power, but local archives do, too. It just takes a little bit of searching. 

Archives as the Site of Social Action and Retribution

                In last week’s readings and class discussion, we came across a case in which the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) was contacted in heavy waves by Japanese-Americans in the 1980s who were forcibly held in internment camps during World War II. In order to be compensated by Congress and seek retribution, they were asked to prove their internment. (David Bearman, “Access and Use,” Chapter IV). For a student like me who uses archives almost exclusively for academic work, it’s a reminder that archives are sites not only established for the pursuit of academic knowledge, but in search of a personal and social one as well. Archives can serve as power tools for social and political action in the pursuit of retribution.

                I encountered a situation directly this past March while I was researching at NARA in College Park, Maryland, just outside of Washington, D.C. While waiting for my new researcher card, I was seated next to an older gentleman. We began talking about our reasons for visiting, to which he told me that he had traveled halfway across the country to obtain records to prove that he had served in a specific battle and troop during the Vietnam War to prove he was eligible for certain veterans’ benefits.

                While I don’t know the outcome of this man’s story, I think it speaks volumes about the place of archives within the public sphere. Mark Greene, in his “The Power of Archives” piece articulated democracy as one of the enduring values of the archival profession. Said Greene, “archivists are more concerned with governmental accountability in a republic.” (Greene 31). In many ways, as others have argued, this is how an archives can determine its enduring value to justify its existence. 

NARA Releases 9/11 Emails: The Politicization of Processing and Access

What priorities decide how quickly things get processed and made available? Last night’s class discussion, centered, in part, on this prioritization of this goal. One of those priorities, of course, was political. This was particularly relevant when I stumbled upon this week’s New York Times article “9/11 White House Emails Capture History Through Modern Lens,” which you can read here: http://nyti.ms/1gbFvw4

The George W. Bush Presidential Library, managed by the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA), released several emails sent out the morning of 9/11 fourteen years ago. While many were not made public due to strict privacy and national security concerns, several were released that highlight some of the day’s initial shock.   

NARA released the emails to The New York Times as the country commemorates the fourteenth anniversary of 9/11. The anniversary of 9/11 as well as its presence in very recent memory makes these emails a particularly relevant set of records in public discourse and collective remembering. I certainly have held the trope that scholars and historians are bulk of an archives’ visitors. But Frederic Miller’s “Use, Appraisal, and Research: A Case Study of Social History” on social historians’ use of archives has debunked that notion. Everyone accesses archives; scholars are just a minute percentage of users. (Miller 374).

The NYT article demonstrates that as well. Archivists are more visible than we think they are, so their audiences are far-reaching and ever-present. NARA’s decision to release these previously classified items indicates the politicization of processing and release. But it further indicates archivists’ participation in modern-day discourse and shaping of memory and national conversations.

While I wish I could say that I was in the board room meetings when NARA decided to release these records, I imagine that it was challenging and maybe even polarizing. However, I’m sure that these archivists were unanimous on their appraisal value, but how do we determine the value of other records that may at first look less immediately significant? I hope to explore this more as the class goes on! 

What is an Archivist?

            My favorite thing about blogging is this that I can trace how my ideas evolve over time. It’s a document of where I started and charts the time frame that led me to where I am now in my thinking. Continuing my public history blog for my Archives and Manuscripts class is a way for me to think about how I define the archivist’s profession after one class and see how I articulate its purpose a few months down the line in December.

            Margery, my professor, asked us at the end of this week’s class to think about how we would define in an “elevator” speech the purpose and value of an archivist and the archives profession. It got me thinking. How would I define it right now?

            Well, I would say, “An archivist processes, manages, and makes available a variety of media that serve audiences in their pursuit of knowledge.” This definition, though, comes from the perspective of a researcher who has used archives extensively in the past. I’ve looked at archives as a way to acquire the information that I need and seen archivists as the medium through which I could obtain this knowledge.

            However, I had been unaware of how archivists viewed themselves and their profession until I read Mark A. Greene’s “The Power of Archives: Archivists’ Values and Value in the Postmodern Age.” Explained Greene, many, including myself, view archivists as people who simply “do.” This is in large part due to a lack awareness of archivists’ own power. But that leaves out the larger mission that archivists work towards. It also leaves out from the larger conversation their power in shaping the historical record.

            Having read Greene’s piece has made me wrestle with my own definition that I came up with above. This is a challenge that I hope to further refine in my blog as the semester continues.  My biggest revision in my definition and in my general view of the archivists' profession is that archivists are active shapers of the historical process.

Share Your Story

            My story with the National Park Service (NPS) officially began with my participation in the George Wright Fellowship at Independence National Historical Park (INDE) in Philadelphia. At least, that was the official beginning. Even so, I suppose you could trace my trail to the Park Service much further.

            I’ve always loved history. Despite my quick stint with wanting to become a doctor in my high school years, my passion for understanding worlds so different than my own was a paramount interest in my life. I was an anomaly among my classmates; while others were lost in the ticking hands of the clock until history class was over, I thought forty minutes weren’t nearly enough.

            My house was a history classroom all on its own. My parents, Portuguese immigrants, introduced me to new narratives outside the ones I was being presented in school. Teenagers during the Revolution of 1974 in Portugal, they told stories of a socialist regime, censorship, and the democratic reforms that came in its aftermath. I had a personal connection to these stories. But while most of my classmates’ histories were mirrored in our assigned textbooks and displayed in local heritage sites, I struggled to see and identify myself in courses that truncated Portuguese history after Prince Henry the Navigator and Vasco Da Gama. If I couldn’t see myself in it, I was determined to contribute and make myself a part of it.

            My decision to major in history in college was my attempt to become an active participant in the historical process. I didn’t just want to write about history, but I wanted to encourage others to be as excited about history as I was. I volunteered at different museums wherever I could to work with audiences. My journey to personally connect with history has directly influenced my desire to help others develop relationships with their past and the cultural sites around them. In many ways, I see myself in the NPS mission.

            When I began graduate school to study Public History, I became immersed in the National Park Service. During my first semester, I read the 2014 “Imperiled Promise” report, which introduced me to a world I had previously left unexplored. After reading the Report, I wanted to come involved with the NPS. That opportunity came around when I applied and was accepted to the George Wright Fellowship at Independence. Myself, along with seven other graduate students, designed an exhibit for New Hall Military Museum, site of the first United States War Department. It was an incredible opportunity to witness how history “is done” within the NPS. I later combined my interest in international and NPS history when I wrote a paper that examined the NPS’s Division of International Affairs in the 1950s and 1960s and its various projects abroad.

            A few months following the George Wright Fellowship, I was invited back to Independence for a summer internship. In January 2015, a fire erupted in the historic Second Bank of the United States. While no damage occurred in the building, I was asked to participate in the conservation project cleaning and restoring over 10,000 objects in the Second Bank’s collection storage area.

            The opportunity to assist in such a vital project has been a learning experience for me. Without these resources, we are endangering the public’s access to important artifacts that tell multiple and intersecting stories. Working with the NPS in the conservation effort has made me a contributor and participant in the park’s past. I’m so grateful to be a part of it, and I want to invite others to do the same in my future career as a public historian. The NPS makes strides to make the past learning grounds for audiences, and I’m excited to collaborate with an institution that takes learning about the past very seriously.

            This is my story. 

Week Nine at Independence: Data Entry and Art Conservators

            It’s the last week of July, which means I’ve been at INDE for almost two months! The coming month seems to be quite a few “lasts” – I’ll be starting my last first day of school in a few weeks, and my last day at INDE is fast approaching. Before I dive into a wave of nostalgia, let me take you into the final week of July here at INDE.

           

            I started off the week continuing with the data entry, which I presume will take me several weeks to complete seeing how there are a few hundred records that I need to modify. I’ve finished the records for the cabinets in one of the rooms, and I’ve moved on to the records pertaining to the flat-file cases.

           

            Perhaps the most interesting part of this week has been touring the Portrait Gallery in the Second Bank. Following the fire, tests were conducted by conservators to assess the damage of the various paintings in the Gallery. While none were charred or suffered water damage, heavy layers of soot rest on the canvases of individual paintings. This week, Karie toured around several conservators and bidders interested in working on the project to clean the individual paintings in most need of attention. Karie showed them the various work spaces where they would be conducting their work, as well as the actual artworks. A conservator will be chosen later this year, but it will be interesting to see how the process turns out.

            I always enjoy observing when outside conservators come to the Second Bank because it gives me a chance to not only learn about the conservation process, but it’s also also an opportunity for me to learn how contracts are drafted by the NPS and independent contractors, budgets, etc. The work that occurs in a cultural institution has value, and this process ensures that individuals are being compensated for the important work that they do.

            Next week, I’m set to meet with another conservator to take another look at the Sharples in the Portrait Gallery. When I helped to clean them during my first few weeks here, I noticed that three of them were not covered in conservator’s tape, so the conservator is coming to examine them. These mini field trips are wonderful! 

Week Eight at Independence: Cataloging and Data Entry

             This week was a catch-up game with data entry. Over the last two weeks, the IT team here at INDE was working on migrating the outdated server to Windows 7. Thus, the cataloging system ICMS has been down while IT works on moving all of the records to the new server. At the several museums and archives I’ve worked in throughout the years, I’ve learned the importance of having reliable technology to ensure that all data pertaining to the institution and the artifacts themselves kept safe. It’s important that the data and information pertaining to artifacts be maintained and preserved with the same care that that we give to physical artifacts. 

            While this was happening, I finished polishing the silver this week, which I asked my coworker to inspect. (I passed with flying colors!) Once ICMS was up and running, I spent most of my week doing data entry. As I worked in the Second Bank for the first few weeks, I didn’t have access to the catalog records, so I wasn’t always sure of the history behind the individual artifacts I was treating. In working with the online catalog, however, I’ve gotten to enter data for the objects in the Second Bank and learn more about the collections here. For example, I noticed in my first few weeks that there was a set of hinges in one of the storage rooms in the Second bank. When I searched the number later on, the description revealed that these were the original 1750s hinges from the guard room door in the Independence Hall Tower Stair Hall! Looking through the catalog is a nice chance to learn about the kinds of objects in INDE’s collection, as well as the particulars of when and how they were acquired.

            Many of the catalog records were cataloged anywhere between the early 1950s and the present, but most of the objects I’ve worked on were cataloged between the 1960s and 1980s. Some of the information in the catalog books wasn’t completely transferred to the computer database, so I’m working on entering information that labels the object’s description, origin, market value, measurements, condition report, location, etc., just to name a few. Karie explained to me that this is a project that has been in the works for quite some time, so having me here is a way to catch up with all of the work. Without an organized and standardized system, it would be impossible to manage INDE’s 2.5 million objects. 

Shelves of the paper catalogs for all historic objects at INDE.

On-line cataloging system.