Museum reflections - "a machine for learning"

Elephant ivory carving, probably 1820s Japan

The Japanese-influenced architectural giant in USA of 100 years ago, Frank Lloyd Wright, is credited with the saying that "a house is a machine for living." The meaning is that particulars of interior spaces affect patterns of movement and rest, sight lines and ease (or hindrance) of speaking to each other. Availability of light (from windows or artificial sources) affects where a person dwells for work or leisure, too. The same is true of offices and factories; not just residential settings. Using this same way to describe the functional activity for museum-goers interacting with subjects framed and labels, one can say "a museum is a machine for learning and reflection." In other words, people who work or who visit a museum can efficiently learn about things they seek answers to, but also discover questions they did not expect to have. Some museum designs (architecture) and arrangement of displays (curation) will be better at producing learning results than others: putting things in the right order (from surface to depth) and in the right variety (theme versus variation) and in the right amount (neither too much information, nor too little), for example.

This photo from the Grand Rapids Public Museum in downtown Grand Rapids, Michigan shows one of a small number of carved ivory figures on public display from East Asia as part of the permanent exhibition. It is part of the section that presents uses of ivory (elephant, walrus, narwal, and so on). The figurines date to the 1800s and therefore depict artful portraits of that time, or possibly in a slightly nostalgic turn, they imagine the clothing and livelihoods of the maker's grandparents' time. In that sense this is a kind of snapshot, frozen in time; either of the time in which the carver lived, or one imagined from before the carver's own direct experience. As such the museum visitors who decide to stop long enough to glimpse or to scrutinize the craftwork, or who follow the marked "2" nearby to read the corresponding label text, below, may learn something new about the place and the time; or they may think about the larger topic of this section of the museum and see the relationship between hunters, merchants, artists, and art-buyers (and then museums that inherit the pieces from private owners). Reflecting on the artifact in another way, though, this 1800s "snapshot" is a window to its place and time. That brings up the question about a time traveller who visits a future museum display to see the craftwork of 2023 makers. What could possibly be analogous to this ivory handiwork? So many things today are mediated with digital devices that it is hard to see the fingerprints of the creator in the finished item. Leaving aside the virtuoso use of tools, a related question for 2023 artifacts is what the figure would look like: ethnic attributes, choice of formal or informal attire, action depicted? Relatively few people catch fish, and fewer still go onto the water using paddle-power. Maybe the 2023 statuette would be 3-D printed from a snapshot source to capture a person on an eScooter in baggy clothing and one-ear plugged with earbud and dangling wire leading to phone in pocket.

Part of "People of this Place" permanent exhibition of Native Americans around Michigan

Getting back to the "machine for learning and reflection" idea, this next photo from the museum is filled with loaned artifacts from many families around Michigan. There are photos, video kiosks scrolling some images and text, as well as looping movies using subtitles to minimize noise in the gallery, artifacts old and new, home-made and store-bought, direct quotes and curator commentary. In order to help visitors orient themselves to the issues and settings, artifacts and illustrations are grouped into several parts of the floorplan. People who make many short visits can add more and more learning with each time they read and look carefully at the materials. People who make a once-in-a-lifetime visit can add to their store of knowledge and awareness, too, although the amount and kinds of information is so great that a single engagement with the displays is not enough to get a full understanding of "People of the Place." These observations are true of non-Indian museum-goers. Those who have artifacts in the exhibition, or have no materials on display, but know some of the people featured, or who count themselves among Michigan's Native Americans will likely have a different way of seeing what is behind the glass of the display cases. In all visitors, though, the museum is a "machine for learning and reflection," as well as site for researchers, artists, writers, and others to add to their knowledge, experience, and way of seeing things.

Ripping out bushes on October 18 for museum expansion project

This last photo shows the first stages of the museum expansion project. Large outdoor display pieces have been placed out of the way, fencing around the construction site is installed, and now the excavator rips the bushes from the edge of the broad sidewalk to make way for digging the foundations of the new addition. Just as the 1993 museum organizes its architecture into spaces for object-based learning, now the new building will also grow from blueprint to foundations and skeleton, to fully finished interiors for the curators to complete with their displays, signage, and amenities for visitors and staff, too. In this way the principle of "machine for learning and reflection" is reproduced in the current generation to reach into the future for people there to engage with the subjects on display.

Quest for ancestors' lives, places, and legacies

 

West Michigan Genealogical Society guest speaker Oct. 7, 2023

From 1:30 to 3:30 members of the public and of the Genealogical Society got together for the monthly meeting at the auditorium of the Grand Rapids Public Library to listen to advice and anecdotes from a long-time professional ancestor researcher. She spoke this time about the kinds of sources online and in public libraries that one can tap into remotely; not having to be physically present with printed matter. Although she sometimes travels to verify grave details, chase down archives without any digital presence or indexing (or local colleagues to help do the search), the majority of her work is carried out from a computer at home. After several decades helping many clients find their roots, her database of individuals numbers about 70,000 names.

Something like 50 people were in the audience, mostly above the age of 50 or 55. Perhaps it is most natural to take a personal interest in ancestry around that time as one's own parents and grandparents have died or are dying. One's own mortality usually comes next in order, although there are also many examples of a child dying before the parent. Thinking about the wealth of digital sources and ways to find and then engage with them, the present moment is a particularly fine time to pursue family trees. Much like the detective skills of TV dramas, there is also an art to building up a mental picture of the person one is chasing after. The transformation of a living person with a history and with aspirations to become a mere mention in the branching structure of a family tree seems inevitable as stories, images, and preferances are seldom recorded or written down, hence lost to memory. But turning the bare details of name, dates, locations into something more three-dimensional and palpable takes a little imagination.

Looking at the transformation from 3-D person filled with life to flattened, streamlined name and dates can be sobering when considering one's own place in the tree; an ancestor yet to be. And even if somebody in the distant future were to wonder what sort of person was one's own self, there are limits to what that can know. Perhaps there are video clips and photos that describe some of one's moments and decisions. Finding a signature invokes a kind of surrogate presence; a proxy for one's own hand and by extension, one's whole self. Anything you author may partly reflect something of one's voice and worldview, too. Personal writing like journals, diaries, or letters offer a lifelike trace of oneself. But even if a future person had the benefit of all these sorts of clues, along with the generalized context of the historical moment, probate records of one's chattels at time of death, and census records of basic household particulars for a place and a time, the resulting composite image of the person would not be filled with breath, words, and glint of eye. So bringing the names on a family tree back to life is only a dim reflection of what was once a fully formed social calendar and cultural landscape.

Deduction is a powerful way to invent some probable details of the person's life, based on contextual circumstantial particulars. The state of the art for medicine, transportation, (tele)communication, and so on can be pictured for most points in history and possibly fine-tuned according to location (rural vs. urban, semi-tropical vs. temperate) and social patterns for people similar in socioeconomic status (education, employment, wealth). According to the guest speaker, though, until about 1960 many local papers would chronicle individual accomplishments, travels, and other notable experiences of interest to the general readership. These "society pages" gradually disappeared after that, though. But finding one's ancestor's doings there can bring them back to life, if only for a moment; making them flesh and blood, again, something greater than the "born__ - died__" hyphenated lifespan. See the guest speaker's notes and illustrations in blog form at https://genealogyframeofmind.blogspot.com .

Putting one's branching ancestry into visual representation produces a fan of bifurcating lines, something like the branches radiating from a central tree trunk. But the custom of following a single surname on the father's side leads to less effort and therefore knowledge of the surnames collateral to the father's own line, and neglect sometimes of the bloodline of the mother, as well. When asked how many generations to travel back in time before the many lines are too confusing or blurring into a point of relatedness to thousands of others, the guest speaker said her practice is to continue until there are no more records to go back in time.

In an immigrant society, one's own image (presentation of self) and one's own abilities for successfully doing particular products and services is more highly valued than one's status resting in a family name. In other words, you see yourself and others define you by what you DO, not WHO you are. As a result, roots and relatives are overshadowed by the luster of gainful work and peer-praised recognition. But by middle age and into elder years, the urge grows stronger to know one's roots and to know where one fits into the larger family tree. The surprises turned up in the genealogy process may be happy or sad, or something in-between. But thanks to software and personal computers interacting with online databases, there is a pretty good change that one's searches will bear fruit: names and dates will come up. Then it remains to turn the dust-dry data points into real lives, if only long enough to trace into the family tree in fullest form.