The older I get, the more I realize there is so little I actually know. It was invigorating and highly educational to read the assigned chapters and article this past week. My knowledge of cultural landscapes was shaky at best prior to the readings, but the readings cemented a foundation for further understanding and reading. I appreciated the introduction to the study of landscapes in chapter one as well as the biographical information provided on J.B. Jackson.
This being a public history course, I could not help but find connections between the study of cultural landscapes and public history. In many ways it seems that some of the driving concepts of studying cultural landscapes can be applied toward public history. In chapter one, Groth and Wilson explained that Jackson “took ordinary settings usually overlooked by academic study and made them interesting” (11). This makes me question whether public historians are doing enough to research and analyze topics that are unseen or dismissed. Public history can be so much more than an interpretive sign. I think Jackson’s passion is inspiration for future public history projects. Additionally, Jackson’s fervent belief in making the information accessible to the “intelligent layman” again can be brought back to the application of history for the public. The hoarding of new perspectives and knowledge by elite scholars within their inner circle is not unlike a squirrel stock piling nuts for the winter. Share the wealth. History, in general, should be available and obtainable by all. Another lesson learned from Jackson are his methods in asking probing questions. Instead of inquiring “What’s the history of this particular place?” models like “How do places like this come to exist?” and “What do they mean to us today?” are questions historians, public or otherwise, should consider (114-115).
On a side note, I was fascinated by Jackson’s beliefs on historic preservation. I found his reasoning compelling, especially the idea that “preserving architectural relics that outlived their social usefulness was a sign of obsessive traditionalism and cultural rigidity…[and] should not be allowed to constrain the vitality of evolving social forces” (74-75). This made me ponder other perspectives on the topic and where they diverge or intersect with Jackson’s belief. Needless to say, I am excited to start Historic Preservation by Tyler, Ligibel, and Tyler.
Excellent observations, Stephanie. I struggle to articulate my own philosophy of historic preservation. On the one hand, we don’t need to preserve every architectural relic that has outlived its social usefulness. On the other hand, how do we determine “social usefulness”? For example, Henderson’s essay mentions the slave cabins at Carter’s Grove plantation. Certainly slave cabins, mindfully interpreted, still have a social usefulness, though it’s incredibly different from their original use. How do we make decisions about buildings that occupy that liminal space where their original function is no longer of us but for which we haven’t yet discerned a new usefulness? How long do we wait, and how can we develop locally informed rubrics for helping communities make these decisions?
We were on the same page Stephanie! I found the relationship between cultural landscapes and public history so engaging, I know that I will be carrying Jackson’s questions with me when I consider new projects.