Category: Reading Reflections

Early in Historic Preservation readers are presented with the ideas of Violett-le-Duc who’s preservation philosophy was to restore buildings to a better state than they could have been constructed originally. This reminded me a lot of that old Boy Scout rule my uncle taught me while camping, “Always leave the campground cleaner than you found it.” However, this philosophy is no longer en vogue.

Instead, there are preservationists who boast that they are environmentally sound and that their work benefits local communities. Yet, they also frown upon installing energy efficient windows and actively  at those who reuse of historic building’s remains in the construction of new buildings. (p. 16, 117-118).

Sure, it might not be historically accurate to do so, but I think that “remixed” buildings with non-traditional uses have a lot more potential to be helpful to society than these some of these preservationists want to admit.

Even guidelines for building rehabilitation are semi-problematic. “A property shall be used for its historic purpose or be placed in a new use that requires minimal change to the defining characteristics of the buildings and its site and environment.” (p.112) Which, according to Historic Preservation, means that a historic church should be restored for use as a religious bookstore or community space rather than a gym or clothing boutique. What if a gym, clothing boutique, or non-religious business was more beneficial to the neighboring community? What if these non-traditional uses improved neighborhood health or brought more jobs to the area?
I’m not saying, “Let’s pave paradise & put up a parking lot.” What I think I’m trying to say here, is that this book truly is an introductory text. Honestly, I’m getting a sense that the book might be more than a little biased as well. The issues of preservation are far more nuanced than Tyler & Co. are presenting here. Does anyone else get this impression?

For example, one of the most interesting parts of this reading was the brief section that discussed how the Chinese, Native American, and Japanese cultures view preservation. (p. 24-5) This portion really deserved to be expanded upon because the ideas presented were completely different, but just as valid as those presented in Historic Preservation. I wanted more detail into why these differing ideas are not a solution for contemporary America’s historical buildings.

I’m hoping that the chapters assigned next week will better detail how preservation connects with economic revitalization, gentrification, and similar issues.

Stray Observations:
-Loved the Eisenman’s Arrow thing. (p. 104)

-What is happening with the citations in this book? They are so few & far between.

This week’s reading raised two questions for me; How do I get hired? and How important is private property in preservation?

My first concern is in the relevance of preservation to our qualifications. Last year, I attended a “Speed Dating” night of history professionals and history students. We were exposed to different avenues that our history degrees could lead us. One of those was historical preservation and it was one of the paths that I was most intrigued by at first. Unfortunately, my interest was way-laid as I learned from the two professionals that a MAHR does not really equate to historical preservation. Both of them had Master’s of Historical Preservation and either majored or minored in architecture.

As we learned from chapter 3 of Tyler’s Historic Preservation, knowledge in architectural history is a pretty essential component to being a historic preservationist (at least professionally). I would love to work for a city or in a State Historic Preservation Office, but I’m doubting my qualifications? Tyler asserts that preservation is done either by private individuals as part of a personal crusade, or government entities. My question is…how does one make a living in this? Who is doing these jobs and can we, as MAHR students, actually get hired?

I am also contemplating the tricky issue of private property. I was disappointed in the toothless National Register “Does and Does Not” list. While it’s wonderful that the register identifies places and “encourages their preservation”, I was dismayed that it has no power to protect or guarantee preservation. In true American fashion, the Register does not, “restrict the rights of private property owners in the use, development, or sale of privately owned historic property.” (p. 49) What then is the point? If we are not going to actually fight the good fight, why bother identifying those places at all? I was particularly irked by Tyler’s assertion that “it was politically necessary to leave such control (federal government protection) out of the original act.” (p. 50) I’m exposing my radicalism, but I believe that once artifacts and places mature past a certain point, they should enter into the public domain and should be removed from private ownership in order to be enjoyed by all. It is no different than classic literature.

I know. That will never happen. But I’d like to see preservation have a little more punch and power. Had we had that in Boise, we might not have lost so many fantastic historic buildings downtown to the gharish mall renovation in the 1970’s or seen so much gentrification and renconstruction of historic districts like the North End or Warm Springs.

In Historic Preservation’s introduction, the authors’ talk of a movement from “quantitative to the qualitative” in order to “preserve our built heritage because it represents who we are as a people” (15). While recognizing this link between buildings, history and people, I would expound further that part of what makes a building aesthetically important is its symbolism. I am thinking of structures that to the eye are not necessarily grand or imposing, the O’Farrell Cabin or the Pierce Courthouse, but whose fundamental crudeness embody simplicity conjoined with the precariousness of survival in pioneer times, yet simultaneously they also symbolize the advent of Euro-American expansion, subjugation of the indigenous way of life and the exploitation of nature. Europe emptied its “excess” populations into America to observe the biblical injunction to be “fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.” And by God we did so.

O’Farrell Cabin (Boise, built 1863) 

Pierce Courthouse (Shoshone County, built 1862)

The text also gives an overview of two competing ur-theories of preservation. I understand the criticism of Viollet-le-Duc’s restoration methods that allowed for reconstruction with a lot of artistic license “not based on the original design,” but using what he esteemed appropriate, however I also like the creativity it allows (20). And while agreeing with Ruskin that there is grandeur, a sense of ancient nexus in untouched ruins, perhaps his vision is overly romantic in an unpractical fashion. As the text suggests there is a middle ground in this tension depending upon the building or structure, and the subjective taste of persons and period.

The explanation on page 81 was helpful to me in understanding why, sometime in my life, homes in Boise that had always been described as “Victorian,” suddenly at least to me, began to be described as “Queen Anne.” Apparently, there is little historical link to Queen Anne (R. 1702-14), but the term Victorian is reserved for “the period of Queen Victoria’s reign not a style.” Chastise yourself accordingly.

In Historic Preservation, the authors’ talk of buildings being “links between what came before and what will come in the future” reminding me of the stories in Letting Go? about the house on Hopkins Street and the Eastside Tenement Project (104). It also made me think of the Central Addition section of Boise if it is viewed “only in terms of its current condition,” which is dilapidated (104). As described in Preservation Idaho’s website, the Central Addition (bounded by Front, Myrtle, 2nd & 5th streets) was platted in 1890, was home to many of Boise’s early elite and only has buildings still standing through ‘preservation by neglect.’ When the railroad came to Boise and extended east in 1903, it was only a block from the neighborhood inducing those of means to move out. Illustrating that the wealthy still have options today that others did not, and do not have, a 2013 AP story on NBCNews.com reported that “minorities suffer most from industrial pollution” while the “poor, uneducated breathe the worst air.” Our text’s passage on teardown exactly mirrors the problem for the Central Addition where the land is valued far and above the value of the remaining houses (117). A January 20th, 2015 Idaho Statesman article states that part of the Central Additions is owned by a developer who has planning permission for a seven-story apartment block, with parking and commercial space valued at $24 million. According to the story, the developer and preservationist are on good terms and hope to move three houses built over a hundred years ago. The developer says he will give the houses, and pay to move them, to anyone with a viable plan for their preservation. Prompted by this week’s link in our syllabus, the houses concerned are shown below.

 Jones House (built 1893) on 19 February 2015

  

Fowler House (built 1894) & Beck House (built 1906) on 19 February 2015

New Deal programs were responsible for many works in Idaho including what is now termed the Old Ada County Courthouse, a 1939 Public Works Administration Art Deco/ziggurat style building that boasts murals completed under the Works Progress Administration. The building’s future was in doubt until it was announced, in the February 9th, 2015 edition of the Idaho Statesman, that the building will become a University of Idaho Law and Justice Learning Center, in accordance with an agreement between the state and the University of Idaho. At least one of the WPA murals proved controversial when it was uncovered in 2008, because it depicted two white men preparing to hang an American Indian.  Even the wording above can be contentious, are they preparing to hang or lynch the Native American?  Hang may imply some sort of criminal offense, trial or justice (assuming such concepts were afforded to American Indians) whereas lynch conotes a starker reality.

WPA Mural in the Old Ada County Courthouse

Some wanted the mural painted over, as reported by Ann Finley writing in the Boise Weekly (30 July 2008) who quoted Larry McNeil, then and currently a BSU art professor, who said it should be painted over because of its offensive nature. Many Native Americans and others agreed with him, however Idaho’s five federally recognized Native American tribes, in accord with the State of Idaho, agreed to the mural’s continued presence in the courthouse conditioned upon an interpretative plaque which addressed “the bloody clashes between the cultures that occurred as white settlers took over the Boise Valley a century ago” (Betsy Russell, Spokesman-Review, December 12, 2008). The debate over this mural is instructive to all who are interested in how we should deal with artifacts, objects, and depictions of racism in our history. Should we hide them, ignore them, or destroy them in case they encourage further discrimination? Or is it we subconsciously want to erase them because they are reminders of a past that indicts our hallowed version of then, while also accusing us in the present? I believe the tribes and the state made the correct decision in keeping the mural rather than sparing our feelings by destroying a work that hurts today’s sensitivities.

I do believe planning review, design boards and historical preservation districts should be an integral part of any development or existing community.  Though my proviso is that rules should be in place prior to anyone buying property and any proposed change after that needs to be evaluated in a manner sympathetic to property owners.

This is my first foray into Historic Preservation literature, and I’ll admit I was a little wary and had a few preconceived notions about how engaging this book would be or not be. I was pleasantly surprised and entirely engaged in the reading. The authors do a great job of introducing the history of preservation practices and legislation in the United States while intermixing the theoretical and philosophical background of different schools of preservation.

While studying archaeology both here and in the UK, I often encountered the question of “Why?” Why do we spend long, hard, cold days in the field minutely recording and recovering pieces of the long dead past? Why do we meticulously map and illustrate standing buildings? These are great essential questions of archaeology, history, and preservation – of public history in all forms. This book addresses these questions through the theoretical discussions of how preservation should and has occurred in the United States. The authors pose the question “Does preservation stand in the way of progress?” (p. 12). They answer this question using numerous sources, but my two favorite quotes sum up my feelings on the issue rather nicely. The first is from John Lawrence: “The basic purpose of preservation is not to arrest time, but to mediate sensitively with the forces of change. It is to understand the present as a product of the past and a modifier of the future.” (p. 14). The second, in the authors’ own words, supplements the first quotation and serves to begin answering the essential questions I mentioned earlier. “Our society will have matured when its primary focus shifts from the quantitative to the qualitative – when we recognize the need to preserve our built heritage because it represents who we are as a people.” (p. 15).

How then should we preserve the past? I absolutely loathe the philosophy of Viollet-le-Duc. Rebuilding structures as the ‘should have been’?! How pompous and narcissistic! However, this was certainly the philosophy in the United Kingdom during the Victorian period. It was practically championed by Queen Victoria herself and is exemplified in the current structure of Edinburgh Castle. It was basically redesigned under Queen Victoria’s orders to look more like an ancient fort. The problem is, now everything dates to the Victorian period except two buildings! On the other hand, leaving structures completely untouched is a rather melancholy thought. I am far more a fan of Ruskin and the idea that “The greatest glory of a building is not in its stones, or in its gold. Its glory is in its Age.” (p. 22). However, I believe both philosophies are cautionary tales that should be used as points to start the discussions of individual preservation projects. I also very much enjoyed the inclusion of preservation philosophies of other cultures. I was particularly intrigued by the Japanese philosophy that reflects the cycle of life, death, and renewal. The question for modern preservationists is how can elements of each philosophy serve to preserve this particular structure, in this particular setting?

The evolution of preservation movements in the United States was very interesting. It is easy to see connections between the changing theories in both preservation and history. Both switched from a focus on prominent men or their houses, to thematic research or preservation. In light of the piece we read about the Black Bottom, I appreciated the section “A Reaction Against Urban Renewal”. The authors poignantly point out the relationship these projects have with the communities in which they are implemented: “The past was no longer being ignored, but now was purposefully being destroyed.” (p. 44). The authors point to Jane Jacobs’ book The Death and Life of Great American Cities to further emphasize this point. “Her book was an important catalyst in stirring the public’s recognition that more than just saving some landmark structures, preservation dealt with preserving the very fabric of communities.

As a final thought, I appreciated the list of Boise’s endangered historic sites. I only knew where a few of them were and I am intrigued by those listings and by the bike tours mentioned by Mandy. And as a final, final thought – Does anyone else really dislike modern architecture or is that just me? Straight lines, no embellishment, harsh, cold materials. No thank you.

If you have not done so already, I give you a challenge to participate in Preservation Idaho’s bike tour of architectural styles found in Boise.   There are three reasons to do so:  you get to ride your bike, you get to learn about Boise history, and the best reason of all, is that it is free.   (Or at least has been).   I have participated in two bike tours.  The first was the Art Deco tour of the North End.  My life centers on the Bench and so I was amazed about the large number of homes both large and small that contain elements of the Art Deco style.  The second tour was about small houses on the Boise Bench created by an architect who cared nothing for architectural rules and regulations.  He just put together elements that he liked of all types of architectural styles.   (His name escapes me now which does not help with the point that I am trying to make about this being a memorable experience).  These homes are largely located in the Rose Hill area.   If you Google 4006 Rose Hill Street, you can see an image of his work.     As you can imagine, these houses were the laughing stock of proper architecture.  Now, they are seen as unique homes full of character.

So this brings me to the book.   How can preservationists and new developers come to a consensus on what to preserve, what to build, and in what style?   If Mr. No-name architect did not have the opportunity to build in his wonky way, would Boise now lack a distinct house style different from anywhere else in the U.S.?    Preservationists, I think, have to have the ability to see value in the past as well as what will be valued history in the future.  Also, the preservationist has to see value in architecture (or sites, etc.) for themselves, but for other groups within the community.  There is a great responsibility to preserve the collective history.  The book mentions later that even though for me, personally, Starbucks is not especially important. But, in how many years will generations younger than I want to preserve the coffee shops as they are today as a representation of the culture of the 2000’s?

Then again, there are the hard questions.   At what point do old buildings need to be demolished?   Even if I find a building to be too far gone, but it the cultural center for others,  who gets the say?  Or should get the say?   Also, if we look too much to the past, are we limiting future good things?

Hard philosophical questions aside, take a bike tour next time the opportunity arises.

 

I don’t really have one cohesive, overarching thought about this week’s reading. So here’s a collection of my random thoughts while reading!

– Making personal profiles for visitors and taking tools from amusement parks. I wonder if The Wizarding World of Harry Potter changes their visitor’s experience based upon what Hogwarts House they’re sorted into. It’s like J.K. Rowling planned ahead to have a participatory amusement park or something!

– I’m glad Simon mentioned adding a sticker color or label for those who do not want to talk to others about the exhibit. As someone with social anxiety, trying to make small talk with people is extraordinarily difficult for me. This is especially true in situations where I feel like I’m being put on the spot. If a stranger randomly asked me about my opinion on a painting, I’d freeze up and feel uncomfortable. One thing I hate museums doing is designing part of an exhibit where you HAVE to interact with another person in order to proceed through the exhibit.

– You’d be surprised how many of these participatory ideas Starbucks is using to attract repeat business. As a barista I was empowered as a front line employee to give away free drinks & food whenever I felt it was necessary or would help connect with a customer. Now, as a retired barista, I still follow Starbucks’ news, continue to care an abnormal amount about cafe quality, and expect a certain level of customer service when interacting with other businesses. I mean they’ve somehow made me invested in this company even after we officially parted ways. Further, they have both the free membership card featuring custom coupons and a coffee passport book to help engage return visits.

-Simon asks how we might put Illich’s Phonebook of talents into play. While I don’t really have a solution, it would be interesting to post a listing on something like Fiverr offering to pay people $5 to teach you something new. Anyone up for a social experiment?

-One thing I do worry about is that many of Simon’s ideas are require a high level of technical savvy. How many museums are going to have funds and skills to accomplish these ideas? Not to mention upkeep. During my visit to BAM for this class, I noticed that half of the interactive exhibits were broken. “Managing & Sustaining Participation,“ AKA the chapter of broken museum dreams, did little to settle my worries. It just made me even more worried that wonderful institutions full of great information will fall by the wayside due to their inability to keep up.

 

The Participatory Museum is perhaps one of the most useful reads we have had so far. I appreciate that Nina Simon has thoroughly developed design models surrounding types/ levels of participation, but also spews out basic brainstorming around each of the types to get the ball rolling for readers and perhaps spawn creativity in translating the case studies and levels of interactivity into their own institutions.

Firstly, I love the idea of “multi-directional content experiences.” It seems common sense that not every museum visitor should have the same experience or take-away from their visit. In fact, even if this is what the institution was aiming for it would be impossible since every visitor has their own unique set of experiences, values, preferences, that shape their understanding. Why, then, is there so often a single narrative and direction in which to follow it? The idea, then, of “opportunities for diverse visitor co-produced experiences” to me reads like a choose-your-own-adventure story. I find it thrilling and democratizing that visitors should shape their own experience in the place, and even more so when Simon considers the ways in which an individual visitor’s actions can shape the experiences of other visitors in the me-to-we vein.

I also appreciated Simon’s different types of web participants and how that could translate to an institution. Not everyone is a creator, some choose to consume media as spectators, other simply like to lurk. Further, these identities should be structured as a continuum, or a fluid identity that changes between moments, platforms, subjects, etc. I also liked that in encouraging increased opportunity for participation in museums, Simon continuously reminds us that we shouldn’t simply replace the rigorous content-driven approach with co-curated level 5 interactivity, but to create opportunities for each type depending on the preference of the users. Another idea we have previously discussed that reappeared in this reading is the idea of dissonance, and productively using it as an opportunity to advance dialogue. My favorite example of dissonance here was the use of profiling/division as a tool, in separating visitors to the Apartheid Museum upon entry. This could be used in institutions with missions related to race, gender, or other types of identity that have been politicized at certain points in time. It needs to be used gently as does create discomfort, but I think the dissonance can be particularly useful in helping visitors understand the discomfort that certain individuals experience(d) daily. I think this goes beyond the passport/nametag approach that tries to encourage identification with historical figures on a surface level.

Like Katrina, I tremendously enjoyed the scaffolding model for encouraging participation in a guided manner. It seems odd that a blank canvas is more daunting than a coloring book page, especially to sophisticated audiences of cultural institutions, but the guided-participation approach is more productive for both the institution and the visitor. I think one aspect in which it is more useful for the institution is that it stays relevant to the theme or learning objective of the exhibit it corresponds to, ensuring that its later incorporation or display (which Simon points out is an integral part of developing the participatory model into the higher stages) remains relevant, educational, dialogic, etc. for the institution and later (perhaps returning) visitors.

I was drawn to the “I like museums” trails, and I think it is an important lesson in curation vs. contribution. While originally the editors/staff created trails surrounding specific interests, visitor types, location, etc., the ability for the museum-going public to contribute their own trails not only creates interactivity between visitors with different interests but contributes to a deeper understanding to the value of institutions to unexpected visitors. If there isn’t an American version of this I think there should be. I also liked the paper approach in museums which is easily replicable. I think one of the insights I gained from Simon is that every participatory initiative need not be an expensive, time-consuming, digital platform, but can be similarly accomplished in simple traditional ways such as brochures of different guided tours depending on your mood, “talk to me about stickers,” a plywood advice booth, physical “punch cards” on a wall, sticky notes, and voting booths. An institutional model I gained a lot of insight from was the idea of different levels or types of memberships, which allow visitors to customize their own interactions with the institution and gain a certain experience from them depending on their desires or interests. I think this could be easily applied to the focus groups and behind-the-scenes experiences Simon mentions, but could also be useful in more “risky” encounters such as the dialogue series we have mentioned in class.

The Participatory Museum is both useful and entertaining. The style of writing is detailed, articulate, and witty. The major themes that jumped out at me throughout the first half of the book were scaffolding, clear communication, trust between visitor and institution, scaffolding, individualization, staff involvement, and scaffolding. Yes, scaffolding. I do love a good bit of scaffolding. “The misguided perception is that it’s more respectful to allow visitors to do their own thing—that the highest-value participatory experiences will emerge from unfettered self-expression. But that idea reflects a misunderstanding of what motivates participation. Visitors don’t want a blank slate for participation. They need well-scaffolded experiences that put their contributions to meaningful use.” Love it. I think this should be a key takeaway from this reading for our group project. Often institutions become overzealous and want everyone to be creators. Many of the best participatory experiences I have had are when I engage with what other visitors have created. I enjoy being a part of the process of creating, but am not prepared or willing to start from scratch. Creating programs that involve all versions of participation from individual intake to active creation is obviously challenging, but ultimately the most rewarding.

I appreciate her focus on audience-centered design and the examples she uses to illustrate it, especially the I Like Museums trails. The idea of creating ‘user profiles’ within the museum and the inherent difficulties intrigued me as someone who worked as a Visitor Services Assistant in a national museum. There was a strange paradox in the directives from on high – we were always counting visitor numbers, but we were supposed to be focused on creating memorable moments for individuals. I thought our maps were pretty good, but now, thinking about really creating individual experiences, they were absolutely useless unless all of your individual desires centered on a highlights tour.

I really like the “me-to-we” design that Simon has created and outlined. I think the most useful aspect of this design is that it provides scaffolding (yes) for developing and for evaluating participatory programs. We can look at or participate in events/exhibitions and begin to understand how they can be scaled up to include stages 3-5, or maintained as is, to engage with the desired audience. I love the idea of creating opportunities for individuals to become a community. After all, museums are public, social institutions and we were just discussing their role in bringing communities together around difficult subjects. The example of Free2choose sounds like an amazing experience, not only as a way to create a true participatory experience at stage 3, but also a great way to tackle difficult issues and at least get people thinking and talking amongst themselves, if not in the larger group.

There was a lot of information to take in and the number and quality of examples Simon uses is extremely helpful in understanding her major points. As a final thought, we should use the example of It Is What It Is as cautionary tale while we design our group project. Our idea for Conversations for Common Grounds is amazing, but the key is the scaffolding. We are taking the best aspect of the Human Library and remixing it with conversations between ‘serious students of…’ (which is a better way of saying ‘expert’) that can then be broken down by individuals in groups. Thinking about this, what is our goal? Is it the dialogue? Having a well-defined goal and designing the specifics backwards (Understanding by Design) may be a great way to continue developing our group project, which, if you can’t tell, I’m super excited about.