Thursday, September 30, 2010

Putting it All Together

One way we as human beings make sense of the world around us is to  place ourselves, others, objects and spaces in relationship to each other.  The statement, "You may place your coat on my bed," to a visitor defines ownership of both the coat and the room.  It also defines a purpose for both the bed and the room - places to store a coat. 


The term relationship can denote a simple equation or function between two things, such as a bed being located in the middle of a room, or a barnacle attached to the flipper of a whale.  A relationship can also be described at a deeper level than placement, containing an understanding of reciprocal actions.  These actions can be functional - the barnacles aid the whales in securing food - or emotional - a parent loves a child, a child hates dark spaces, including the one under the guest bed where her coat is placed when visiting Nana's.  

Whether one is reading the University of Rochester's core curriculum statement or Alfred North Whitehead's "The Aims of Education," you will learn that there are those of us who strongly advocate the idea that humans engage most fully - be it learning, working, or giving of themselves - if we fully engage - yes, love -that on which we are focused.   

If learning happens best when you have the freedom to study what you love and if to learn something new you must first fall in love with the subject matter, how does an exhibit creator in a museum create a romance between visitor and object?  Interpretive planner Alice Parma advocates creating "entry points that allow your visitors to connect, relate and fall in love."

Let's use Parma's six steps of exhibit planning to envision an entry point for the First Person Museum experience that will create functional relationships that elicit emotional responses to the objects in question. 

STEP ONE  Successful exhibit planning emerges when one uses the organization's mission statement - its reason for being - as a starting point to determine both the key messages you wish visitors to learn and the storyline that will be the teaching tool.  


"Ordinary things can capture extraordinary stories." 
The First Person Museum experience is built on seeing stories behind objects.
   
"Transforming the drama of real life into memoir and documentary art 
to foster appreciation for our unique and shared experience. 
Everyone has a story to tell. 
Sharing our stories connects us with each other and the world."
First Person Arts Mission Statement

Visitors to the exhibit need to leave with a sense that objects tell stories 
and that through sharing our most beloved objects, 
we share our own story, 
pieces of ourselves.

In a very real sense,
these objects are windows 
into the individuals who share their stories.  
The exhibit offers a chance 
to go beyond looking in from the outside, 
and allow us to step through the glass 
into the story.
   
STEP TWO  Galleries of thought allow "visitors to make sense of unfamiliar material."  Key concepts during this step are perspective and organization.  How will you organize what visitors see in order to pull them into the subject matter, engage them emotionally, and begin the journey towards internalizing your take home messages?  Parma suggests several organizing concepts: category, chronology, analogy observation/deduction, comparison/contrast, theme, watchword.  I am going to combine and spin the concepts of category and comparison/contrast slightly.








How can we pair items with each other in a way that simultaneously give us enough of a categorical grounding that we can establish a starting point of understanding while launching a line of what is similar/what is different questioning?
Grouping the objects allows us to play 
with the concepts of community and interconnectivity 
while challenging how people think about how things fit together.  
Knowing the stories, and history, of each object 
allows us to pull key, but not necessarily obvious facts to the surface.
For example, the stories for Kathy's Pendant and Jon's Fishing license both feature a car, and how the object was used in relation to the car.
Beth's Sock and Renee's Boxer shorts both represent a life halted or ended. 
This type of grouping draws visitors into a specific 
element of the story, and lends a tangible sense of inclusion.






STEP THREE  What to display?  From our starting point, the objects are chosen.  If we step back to the process First Person Arts employed, we need to return to step one, and the importance of mission.  The objects that were chosen were the ones with the staff felt had compelling stories with the best chance of drawing people into a connection.  These are our objects: 





STEP FOUR  Motivate and engage.  This step is about the curiosity and knowledge visitors bring with them to your exhibit and how you validate their questions and understanding. The form of the First Person Museum lends itself well to this step, as by design multiple viewpoints are provided.  Where we need to be creative is how to invite interaction with the object and contribution by the visitor to the comprehensive experience that is the exhibit.  







We need to bring the visitor into the space 
that physically represents a piece of the story 
invites the visitor to be an active participant.  

STEP FIVE  What is our exhibit's "visual style?" How will we use scale, color, dimension, dynamic angles and groupings, timelines, context, comparisons, and contrasts to "communicate key messages?"

Window frames.  
On the way into the space allotted for each grouping of items,
you will pass by a  close to life size window frame.  
Depicted in the four panes of the frame 
will be a collage highlighting elements of each story.  
Colors and textures will be used on both the windows and  in the images.  


The objects themselves will be displayed in a way that continues to pull the visitor into the story. 
A picture of the inside front of a car on the wall behind the display cases 
for Jon's Fishing License and Kathy's Pendant.  
And on the next wall, blowups of newspaper headlines 
of the news related to Beth's Sock and Renee's Boxer Shorts.


When you step by the window, you are in essence stepping into the story, 
which is then depicted on the wall and represented by the object.        


STEP SIX  Before producing and installing an exhibit, smart steps include: creating a blueprint and thinking through how you will assemble the pieces. 
Grouping the Objects
Sketching a Blueprint
Thinking out loud
Another option


Getting the right window

Thoughts for Assembly 


If the exhibit comes together as envisioned (and budget and time and resources allow), one has a physical and visual experience that brings the visitor directly into the story.  Other elements planned by First Person Arts such as films and audio recording of the story can be build into the design presented.  (Imagine turning on a car radio to hear Jon tell of fishing with his grandfather.)  The collages and wall backdrops allow the historian to intersperse images and pictures that speak to the objects history beyond the story.  To finish the goals, there can be a large window on the way out of the exhibit on which visitors can tape hand written notes of their own stories or pictures of their own objects.  



Tuesday, September 21, 2010

What Is a Fishing License?

What is a fishing license?
You, there. American, living in the 21st C.
What is a fishing license?

<silence for your answer>

How do you know?
Have you held one?
Seen one?
Used one?

If you answered yes, you have first hand knowledge, or primary experience, with fishing licenses.  If you answered no, how is it that you answered my questions? Hmm?

Members of a community share a common knowledge of objects.  Popular culture is an example of this.  The movies we see, books we read, billboards we use to play the alphabet game - all of these items provide images that supply messages.  You used these images to answer my question.

What do we as a culture know about fishing licenses? Let's consult a couple of sources.

Cartoons can reflect public opinion, political atmosphere, ideological trends.  Cartoonstock.com is an archive, a "searchable database of more than 200,000 gag cartoons, political cartoons, cartoon pictures and illustrations by more than 600 cartoonists." These cartoons are both current and historical, just like popular culture, as what a culture knows is a culmination of what has been created, shared, and passed down through generations.  

What do we know about fishing licenses from what cartoons tell us?  Let's look:


All four of these cartoons talk about permissions, specifically, the permission to be in a certain place engaging in a certain activity - fishing.  This sense of the object matched the intent of the object, something that is not always true.  

Another source of current popular cultures is film. When I think of fishing licenses and film, I think of Grumpy Old Men, starring Jack Lemmon and Walter Mathau.  I swear I remember an image of Burgess Meredith's character, Grandpa Gustafson, depicted with a fishing license on his fishing cap.  So I went looking for a picture to back up my memory.  Nothing. 

What I did find was fascinating, however.  Of all the images of the main characters, in a film where fishing is a key activity, not a single image does show a fishing license.  Let's go back to the cartoons. What is absent, or assumed to be absent, in each sketch? 

The license.

So what do we, as members of popular culture know about fishing licenses?  

You are supposed to have one. 

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

A question of ownership

"Jon's Fishing License" seems a misnomer.  Clearly printed on the license is the name, "Jack Zove. Doesn't the license belong to him?


Assuming a simple answer to ownership of an identifying document, such as a license, passport or birth certificate, is tempting. "Whose name is on it?"  While an obvious starting point, the very nature of objects, and history, renders such an assumption a false lead the moment the document is created, and the probability increases with time.  Knowing how much time has passed is a critical key to verifying ownership of a legal document issued to a specific person.  Asking questions can determine if the object still belongs to whom it was issued.  How many years have passed? Is the number less than a human lifetime?  Or simply, is Jack Zove still alive?  


A Google search provides three hits; all tie the name to memorial gifts to organizations in Philadelphia.  While not proof of the death of our Jack Zove, they are reasonable leads. Another search indicates a death certificate exists for a Jack Zove of Pennsylvania. We could pay the fee to obtain that record and solid proof.  As it is, we know that Mr. Zove is deceased, who owns his license, and why because we know the story of the object.  (Or at least, I do, and you will too, with time.)  While one of the challenges of this project is navigating the line between story and history, for now, we will stay focused on our goal of using historical method, not story, to define the license.  


We need to also ask what the license's surroundings tell us.  In whose possession does the object live?  In this case, Jon's, because Jon brought the object to a Storytelling Session hosted by First Person Arts in a quest for objects and stories for the First Person Museum project.  How it was or is it used?  Seeing the back would show if there was a trout sticker, but still wouldn't prove that he did such fishing.  Is there wear on the license? Is it dirty? Scuffed? In a case for pinning to a fishing vest? While these questions can indicate use, we still don't know how Mr. Zove used it.  Without proof, the assumption that he used it to fish is still an assumption.  What about how Jon uses the license? At this point, unless we use the story, we are limited to what we know about how he does not use it.  Jon does not use the license to fish, because PA Lifetime Fishing licenses are only issued to individuals over 65.  We have a picture of Jon which indicates he is significantly younger than 65.   


Asking questions of the object, of its surroundings, and of other documents can all help place an object in context and provide information about its use.  My next post will look at the larger context of popular culture to explore what we know about the societal role of fishing licenses.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

The art of description

At 10:31 a.m. on April 19, 1994, Jack Zove was issued a Senior Resident Lifetime Fishing License from the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania.  At the time he lived on Claremont Road in Philadelphia.  He was 68 years old, 5 foot nine and a half inches, and weighed 176 pounds.  His hair was brown and his eyes hazel.  The license number is 236099 and was issued by agent number 22047-2 of the PA Fish and Boat Commission.  The license form number is PFBC-L 161, REV 8-92.  Also printed on the license is a large blue L.  

The above information comprises the data that is printed on Jack Zove's Lifetime PA Fishing License, which is currently owned by his grandson Jon.  Jon will tell the story of his grandfather's fishing license, of the license he possesses, in other forums.  The goal of this blog is to trace the process of exploring the history of Jon's Fishing License via different methods of analysis within the larger context of accessing history through the study of material culture.  

The goal of this post is to describe the license.  As I will not have the opportunity to interact with the license directly, my observations are based on a photograph of the front side of the object and information gathered about lifetime fishing licenses in general. 


The picture shows a rectangular piece of white card stock placed in a plastic cover.  The form portion of the card is printed in blue, as is the watermark. The watermark is of the seal for the Fish and Boat Commission of Pennsylvania.  


Mr. Zove's data is typed or printed on the card in black ink.  I cannot tell from the distance at which the picture is taken if a type writer or printer was used.  However, with at least HP Printers being common in the marketplace by the late 1980s, it is likely that this card was printed, not typed.  Additionally, the shape of the letters, added to the uniformity and darkness of the ink, suggests a printer, not a type writer, was used. 


The license number itself is of a very large font and the ink is red in color.  The numbers are shaped differently from either the blue form characters or the black data information, the shape of which suggests a rubber stamp may have been used.   


At this point, I have exhausted visual observation.  I cannot describe the back of the license as I do not have a picture of it.  I need to look beyond this specific example to others for possible answers.  What can studying current fishing licenses and processes to obtain one tell us about Jon's grandfather's 1994 license?  If nothing else, they can give us a starting point from which to work backwards, or at least, with which to draw comparisons.  


A current Lifetime Fishing License from Pennsylvania is an option offered only to permanent residents of the state who are age 65 or older.  The license itself measures 3 1/2-inches wide by 2 1/2 inches high.  A 2010 PA Senior Lifetime Fishing license costs $51.70.  One assumes in 1994 one cost less.  (Today one can also get an upgrade to a laminated plastic card for $6.70.)


From a descriptive point of view, the Jon's Fishing License seems rather mundane.  White card stock.  Wallet-sized.  No distinguishing marks or tears.  Details about present day licenses and the data provided by the card give us a reasonable sense of what this piece of paper is.  Next post will discuss who owned it and for what it was used.