Monday, October 31, 2011

The Powel House


          For our fourth field exercise, we visited the Powel House, former home of Samuel Powel, Philadelphia’s mayor before and after the American Revolution.  Powel and his wife were both crucial figures in the 18th century Philadelphia and national political scenes. They were dear friends to the Washingtons, who visited often and for long periods of time. In fact, Brandi Levine, executive director of Landmarks and our tour guide for the day, cites a letter of encouragement from Mrs. Powel as one of George Washington’s main motivations to run for the presidency. Levine was very honest with us, not only about the history of the space (which has certainly seen some less glamorous days; it was a warehouse in the early 20th century before being saved from destruction by local heiress Frances Ann Wister), but also about the financial and organizational dilemmas that come along with keeping such a museum open. This brings me to the big question: do we need another house museum?
            To answer this, let us first consider the value of museums such as the Powel house. Levine stressed to us the importance of house museums to the communities they are apart of. She noted that most of the volunteers and board members live within walking distance of the museum, and take great pride in their affiliation with it. As Marian Godfrey simply and elegantly puts it, “House museums are a vital part of our community. They are tangible reminders of our history, where we came from, and who we once were.” The Powel House is an excellent example of this. It is an especially compelling place because it is one where the founding fathers of our nation discussed and debated the ideas that formed our political system. By physically inhabiting this space, we are able to connect with its past in a more intimate and powerful way than say, reading a book or listening to a lecture. When we visit a house museum, we literally step into its history, inspiring us to think about the ways in which were are situated within its continuing legacy. Museums such as the Powel demonstrate the importance of place in constructing community and individual identity. 
             So, do we need another one? I think that, theoretically (meaning financial difficulties aside), if each neighborhood were to have such a museum, we might see a lot more people taking pride in where they are from. Even if a neighborhood never had a major celebrity or politician emerge from it, wouldn’t it be neat if every community had something to point to and say “this is where we came from, and it’s a part of why we are who we are today”? Surely every neighborhood, especially in Philadelphia, has a rich and important past, one that has contributed greatly to making our city what we know it as today. More house museums would allow us to appreciate that.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology

The Penn Museum is a powerful example of how the time and place in which a museum is established shapes its enduring meaning. Founded in the late 1800s, it was the world’s very first Anthropology museum.  As Seth pointed out during our post-visit discussion, this was a deeply racist point in American history. The influx of immigrants from southern and eastern Europe, as well as the migration of African Americans from the rural south to northern cities, was met with a massive backlash of prejudice in every facet of American society.  The U.S., troubled by Frederick Jackson Turner’s claim that the country’s western frontier had closed, began an Imperialist streak. Scholars of the time sought to justify this racism and Imperialism by “scientifically” proving the inferiority of minority groups. Anthropology, in its early days, was very much devoted to studying ancient cultures and ranking them in order of how “primitive” they were. The original layout of the Penn Museum displayed this by symbolically locating the artifacts of African, Asian, and Native American civilizations in the building's basement and Western artifacts upstairs.
            The layout of the museum has since been changed, but the aura of its troubling origins still remains deeply imbedded in its collecting and organizational practices. The museum’s permanent exhibits are that of ancient civilizations from Africa, Asia, the Middle East, South America, North America (Native Americans only) Greece, and Rome. As Americans, when we visit this museum, we are thus gazing not at ourselves but at the “other.” I think this was the intention of the museum’s founders; to make visitors feel like they are separate from and therefore superior to the cultures displayed. Though the curators’ motives have undoubtedly changed since then, the presentation of the artifacts continues to echo this ideology.
 While browsing the museum, I remembered our discussion on how museums remember for us what is important about culture (Crane 98). By carefully choosing specific artifacts from China and putting them together in a big room, the museum is, in a way, telling us “This is what you need to remember about China, and, in essence, this is China.” I think this is a huge power that museums wield, and we should always to be conscious of it when visiting one, no matter how prestigious and old of an institution it may be.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Independence Hall and the Second National Bank


              For our second field exercise, we explored the life, museum, and mission of Charles Willson Peale. Peale is quite an intriguing character; a true “Renaissance” man with many hobbies and interests, he is now remembered mostly for his portraits of elite Americans of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, and for the museum he ran in Philadelphia from 1802 to 1826. I knew virtually nothing about him or his museum before this class, so it was a very informative and thought-provoking experience for me.
              Our first stop was the second floor of Independence Hall, where Peale’s museum was once located. Now it has been restored to look like it did at the time of the American Revolution, but visiting the space still helped inform my understanding of it. Curator Katie Diethorn provided us with a comprehensive base knowledge of Peale and his museum. She explained Peale’s vision of containing “the world in miniature” within his museum, a true product of the Enlightenment period he came of age in. All of his artifacts were organized according to Linnaeun taxonomy; the most “simple” specimens were located on the bottom shelves, increasing in complexity as visitors gazed upwards. At the very top of the walls were Peale’s own portraits of the nation’s most revered citizens of the time, who were all, of course, elite middle-aged white men. Diethorn explained how Peale worked tirelessly to get federal funding for the museum, but to no avail. His ultimate goal was for it to become the official national museum, which is one of the reasons why he strategically chose to place it in America’s most famous building. The museum closed down in 1826 due to financial troubles. Most of the natural specimens were sold to P.T. Barnum and then lost in fires, but a large collection of his portraits are now housed in the Second National Bank.
               Next, we visited the Second National Bank to see the exhibit featuring Peale’s paintings. Diethorn raised up many great points about the objectives of modern day history museums. She explained that as time goes on and U.S. society changes, what we choose to extract from our history changes as well. This, she noted, is why the exhibit in the bank is completely revamped every fifteen years or so. In the past, it mainly focused on the stories of the few but powerful. Now, even though it still features Peale’s portraits of elite white men of the Revolutionary Era, it also incorporates visuals and information to give visitors a feel for how “everyday” people of the period lived as well, including women and minorities. This illustrates our collective memory’s pattern of evolving over time, and how that process is both influenced by and reflected in our history museums. She also reminded us that every museum, without exception, is presenting visitors with a point of view, and that we should always keep this in mind. Coming from a curator, I found this very powerful. I admired Diethorn’s honesty about Peale, his museum, and the current exhibit in the bank. She encouraged us to think critically about Peale’s notions of gender and race, and did not blatantly romanticize the information she gave us, as is so often done in discussions of Revolutionary War Era history. All in all, I found this to be a very interesting visit that really got me pondering about how public history museums evolve through the years, and what their goals and function should be.