Rosen-blog

A Manjiro Homecoming--Part 1: Manjiro Pilgrimage

noreply@blogger.com (Patrick Rodgers) — Fri, 24 May 2013 18:23:00 +0000

Museums travel their objects all over the world, and the Rosenbach is no exception. But it's especially interesting to travel around the world with an object that's all about world travel. The object in question is our manuscript relating to Nakahama Manjiro's travels from Japan to the U.S. and back from 1841-51, which we recently lent to the Sakamoto Ryoma Memorial Museum in Kochi, Japan. This project was more than a decade in the making, and the dream of two people in particular: Junji Kitadai of Tokyo, a member of the Manjiro Historic Friendship Society and all-around Manjiro expert; and Judy Guston, our own Curator & Director of Collections, who became acquainted with Mr. Kitadai during the lead-up to the Rosenbach's own exhibition on its Manjiro manuscript 14 years ago. Fourteen years sounds like a long time, but consider that the Rosenbach Manjiro manuscript was last in Japan 101 years ago and you realize how significant a loan this is. Kathy did a great blog post about this manuscript about a year ago, and I'll try not to duplicate her efforts too much. Instead, I'll share with you some of the things we learned about Manjiro and our manuscript in our travels around his home island of Shikoku (and next week I'll tell you more about the Sakamoto Ryoma Museum's exhibition of Manjiro's travels and manuscripts related to them).

The Kochi visitor's information center built a wonderful representation of Shikoku with figures that capture each area's significance. The city of Kochi is along the Pacific coast in the center, while Manjiro's hometown is towards the bottom left corner of the island.

Here's the Manjiro figure near his hometown of Naka-no-hama (now Tosashimizu) on the south-western cape of Shikoku

Judy, Junji Kitadai, and I traveled south to trace Manjiro's route from his birthplace to his shipwreck to his route home after he returned to Japan. Our first stop was the John Mung (Manjiro's anglicized name) Museum in Tosashimizu. The museum displays artifacts, period rooms, and models describing Manjiro's travels, accomplishments, and legacy.


Kazuhiko Nabeshima, Judy Guston, and Junji Kitadai at the John Mung Museum, Tosashimizu. Also a Manjiro fan, Mr. Nabeshima kindly guided us to many Manjiro sites and somehow navigated the narrow mountain roads.

This panel at the museum, with Manjiro surrounded by a blue circle, explains his influence on others in his own time and beyond. To the upper left is the reformist samurai Sakamoto Ryoma, who was inspired by what he learned of the United States in part through Manjiro. He worked to bring about the end of the feudal shogunate and the beginning of modern Japan. On the far right center is Franklin Delano Roosevelt, whose Delano ancestors lived in Fairhaven, MA, where Manjiro also lived. Roosevelt wrote to Manjiro's son of these ties in 1933.

From the museum we headed to the site of Manjiro's birth. The original house hasn't survived, but a faithful recreation based on photographs was built next to where the original stood. Manjiro lived in this tiny house with his mother, brother, and sister, struggling to help support them and eventually leaving home to join the fishing expedition that would inadvertently send him around the world. When he returned to Japan, after his exhaustive debriefing at numerous cities, he finally made his way back to Kochi, and from there walked back to his old house for a reunion with his mother. Having followed that route for half a day by both train and car, Judy and I can tell you it's a long and winding road that brought Manjiro home!

A building in the port of Usa: a sign in the upper left plays on the town name's similarity to the U.S.A., while the sign on the right mentions that Nakahama Manjiro departed here on his fateful voyage. Usa is now a point of departure for many whale-watchers.

Finally, we headed to the town of Usa. The 14-year-old Manjiro embarked from this fishing village in 1841 with four companions, coasting along on the "black current." This current normally betokened good fishing, but it proved treacherous on this voyage thanks to a terrible storm, carrying the fishermen and their small craft out to sea away from Japan, and stranding them on the inhospitable island of Torishima (nicknamed "Bird Island," since albatross were the island's only inhabitants--the one Manjiro site that Judy and I did not visit!).

Manjiro portrait at the John Mung Museum, Tosashimizu

Manjiro is such a celebrated historical figure that we saw his likeness everywhere. Most often he appeared in his red shirt and broad-brimmed hat, after a drawing done by the scholar and artist Kawada Shoryo, who recorded Manjiro's story and created the manuscripts that now reside in the U.S. and Japan. The hat was from Manjiro's adventure in California's Gold Rush, in which he had participated after his whaling days had ended. We saw caricatures of this portrait of Manjiro on food packaging, tourist wayfinding information, and toys (which we really need for our museum shop!).

It was fascinating to see how Manjiro's significance rippled through history and can be felt in places like Usa, Tosashimizu, and Kochi. His legacy is certainly alive and well, and hopefully growing, thanks to exhibitions, research, education, and pop culture representations (toys, games, merchandise, and even an appearance as a character in the popular Japanese TV drama about Ryoma's life). More on the Rosenbach's Manjiro manuscript at the Sakamoto Ryoma museum next week!

Free Library Field Trip

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Sat, 18 May 2013 04:26:00 +0000

Last Friday the Rosenbach's collections department took a field trip up 20th Street to visit our new colleagues in the Rare Book Department of the Free Library. We're no strangers, having worked together though PACSCL (the Philadelphia Area Consortium of Special Collections Libraries) for years and having researched at the Free Library and borrowed from them for past exhibitions, such as Chosen in 2007. But it was nice to have an excuse to get together, discuss our work, and get to see some of their wonderful collections.

In our brief visit we got to see some highlights from the Elkins Room (including a map by John Dee, a fascinating character who is featured on our Magic hands-on-tour), fantastic material from their Pennsylvania German collections, as well as their First Folio, several medieval books of hours, and the Ferrara Bible (which our curator Judy Guston remembered vividly from Chosen). We all wished we had more time, but luckily this is only the beginning.

Here is Janine Pollock, the head of the rare book department, retrieving a book for us in Elkins room. To learn more about William McIntire Elkins and his collecting, you can check out this essay by Ellen Schaffer. We all coveted the elegant library ladder that you see in the foreground of this picture, but it seems that the staff actually use the more prosaic steps that Janine is standing on.

We neglected to take a group shot, but we want to extend our thanks to all the folks at the Free Library who took time out of their busy schedules to spend with us. We are looking forward to returning the favor.

Kathy Haas is the Associate Curator at the Rosenbach Museum & Library and the primary poster at the Rosen-blog

Fairy Ballads

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 10 May 2013 15:42:00 +0000

After last week's post on cannibalism we promised a lighter topic for this week, which comes to us courtesy of our departing collections intern Anne Baker

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When thinking of May and what to write about, I thought of how the month is known for flowers. In searching through the collections I came across a bound set of beautiful watercolors and decided to investigate them further. It appeared that they were for a book by Caroline Elizabeth Sheridan Norton and there is a letter from her included, with instructions for the artist. The book was entitled “Fairy Ballads,” and the watercolors were done by the artist John Absolon.

John Absolon. "They All Take Hands in a Fairy Ring." Illustration for Aunt Carry's Ballads. ca. 1847. Rosenbach Museum & Library 1954.322.

I wanted to find out more about the book, so I turned to Google. “Fairy Ballads, by the Honorable Mrs. Norton" (as written on the title page) does not appear in searches. However, I did find a book called Aunt Carry's Ballads for Children, by the Honorable Mrs. Norton; With Illustrations by John Absolon, published in 1847. This matched the title given in a laudatory poem bound with the watercolors. I had found it!

John Absolon. "Fairy Ballads" ca. 1847. Rosenbach Museum & Library 1954.322.

The title page in the Rosenbach collection (which is not used in the published book) is a very striking and a beautifully composed image. Three mermaids surrounded by sea corral and shells, frame the bottom of the page, while above two women sit in the trees looking down while a woman in white, in the company of a lamb, is in the scenic distance. The colors are bright and cheerful while the watercolor technique is detailed and picturesque.

As Mrs. Norton's ballads are not included with the Rosenbach’s watercolors, I had to search elsewhere for the text that corresponds with the drawings; here is an example of the accompanying poetry from the final published version:

Excerpt from "Adventures of a Wood Sprite, or The Fairy of the Hawthorn Tree" from Aunt Carry's Ballads for Children, by the Honorable Mrs. Norton; With Illustrations by John Absolon (pgs 5-6)

Once on a time, on a Summer’s day,
When mowers were tossing the new made hay,
And children were playing in the garden bowers,
And butter flies flitting among the flowers,
And dragon-flies darting here and there,
All golden and green in the sunny air:
A Hawthorn tree, that so long had stood,
Its trunk was all gnarled and knotted wood,

And its bark half covered with lichen and moss,
Was cut down, to make a new path across
The gentleman’s lawn where it sheltered so long
The Tom-tit’s nest, and the Robin’s song:
Woe is me! Ah! Woe is me,
A Wood-sprite lived in that Hawthorn tree!

Reading briefly about Mrs. Norton proved to be interesting. The granddaughter of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, she had an unhappy marriage (ending in separation) and her husband accused her of having a scandalous affair with the Prime Minister of England, Lord Melbourne. Her frustration with the legal powerlessness of married women led her to work to change the law. I encourage you to look her up!

Anne Baker is a Museum Student at the University of the Arts. She is from Delaware, Ohio, just north of Columbus. She enjoys Art History (Italian art) and painting and has just completed interning at the Rosenbach in the Collections Department, which she describes as "a blast, I have learned so much!"

Civil War and Cannibalism

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 03 May 2013 18:00:00 +0000

I would like to start off by inviting all Rosen-readers to come enjoy Voices of 1863: Witnesses to the Civil War, which opened just this Wednesday. We've packed Gallery 1 full of wonderful Civil War documents that really illuminate the wartime experience, plus there's a chance to hear some of Dave Burrell's compositions inspired by our 1863 collections, and to dig deeper with a kiosk of the Today in the Civil War blog.

In unrelated news from two and a half centuries earlier, my news feed has been burning up with Wednesday's articles about the archaeological discovery of cannibalism at Jamestown. I was just at the Jamestown archaeology site less than a month ago on a spring-break trip with my children, so I was especially interested.

If you missed the story, you can read an account at Smithsonian Magazine or a number of other news outlets. Basically, the short version is that archaeologists have discovered bones from a 14-year-old English girl at Jamestown that show signs of having been dismembered for food during the 1609-1610 winter known as "the starving time".

John Smith, The generall historie of Virginia, New-England, and the Summer Isles.
London : Printed by John Dawson and John Haviland for Michael Sparkes, 1626. A 626s

All the articles note that cannibalism at Jamestown was already known from contemporary accounts, which drove me to the Rosenbach's historical collections. Here's the description of the starving time in John Smith's famous Generall Historie of Virginia, New England and the Summer Isles," published in 1624 (the Rosenbach has both the 1624 and 1626 printings, these images are from the 1626 version). I've modernized the spelling and inserted some breaks in the transcript which follows.

John Smith, The generall historie of Virginia, New-England, and the Summer Isles. London : Printed by John Dawson and John Haviland for Michael Sparkes, 1626. A 626s

Now we all found the loss of Captain Smith, yea his greatest maligners could now curse his loss: as for corn provision and contribution from the Savages, we had nothing but mortal wounds, with clubs and arrows; as for our Hogs, Hens, Goats, Sheep, Horse, or what lived, our commanders, officers and Savages daily consumed them, some small proportions sometimes we tasted, till all was devoured; then swords, arms, pieces, or any thing, wee traded with the Savages, whose cruel fingers were so oft imbrewed in our bloods, that what by their cruelty, our Governor's indiscretion, and the loss of our ships, of five hundred within six months after Captain Smiths departure, there remained not past sixty men, women and children, most miserable and poor creatures; and those were preserved for the most part, by roots, herbs, acorns, walnuts, berries, now and then a little fish: they that had starch in these extremities, made no small use of it; yea even the very skins of our horses.

Nay, so great was our famine, that a Savage we slew and buried, the poorer sort took him up again and eat him; and so did divers one another boiled and stewed with roots and herbs: And one amongst the rest did kill his wife, powdered [i.e. salted] her, and had eaten part of her before it was known; for which he was executed, as he well deserved: now whether she was better roasted, boiled or carbonado'd [i.e. grilled], I know not; but of such a dish as powdered wife I never heard of.

This was that time, which still to this day we called the starving time; it were too vile to say, and scarce to be believed, what we endured: but the occasion was our own, for want of providence industry and government, and not the barrenness and defect of the Country, as is generally supposed...

Sobering thoughts. Perhaps next week we will return to a more cheerful topic on the Rosen-blog.

Kathy Haas is the Associate Curator at the Rosenbach Museum & Library and the primary poster at the Rosen-blog

Sendak and Science: Atomics for the Millions

noreply@blogger.com (Patrick Rodgers) — Fri, 26 Apr 2013 16:35:00 +0000

Maurice Sendak got his first “gig” in the world of book illustration when he was 18, as some astonishing materials recently purchased by the Rosenbach attest. It was the spring of 1946, and his physics teacher at Lafayette High School in Brooklyn, Hyman Ruchlis—recalling Sendak’s artistic talent from his contributions to the school literary magazine and comic strips—asked his student to produce illustrations for a book he was co-writing on atomic energy. Ruchlis, co-author Maxwell Eidinoff, and publisher McGraw Hill, needed lively and informative scientific diagrams as well as larger pictorial sequences for their book, tentatively titled Atomic Adventures. This week the Rosenbach acquired 18 original drawings for Atomics for the Millions, as it came to be called, as well as the contracts signed by Sendak and the authors.

Contract for Atomics for the Millions, July 22, 1946

It wasn’t a bad “gig” for an 18-year-old aspiring artist. As the contract shows, Sendak was paid $100: $50 in advance, $50 upon delivery (though, as legend has it, a passing grade in physics was also part of the deal). It was hard-earned, since Sendak created over 100 pen-and-ink illustrations for the book, with imagery as diverse as a portrait of Einstein contemplating the relationship between matter and energy, the uncontrolled atomic reaction triggered by a nuclear weapon, and a medieval alchemist in his rudimentary laboratory. A dome-headed, lab-coated scientist also shows up in several of Sendak’s drawings investigating the secrets of the atom. He has the feel of a stock comic book scientist, possibly of the “mad” variety.

It was another four years before Sendak illustrated another book: Marcel Ayme’s Wonderful Farm, which marked the beginning of his career in children’s books. Sendak’s illustrations for Atomics for the Millions were long presumed destroyed, and it is a shame no other illustrations have resurfaced. But these 18 demonstrate a number of characteristics about the young illustrator that could be said of the mature Sendak, as well. They reveal his debt to comics and early animation; his blend of literal, serious imagery (such as the Einstein and Curie portraits) with imaginative, humorous illustrations (Sodium and Chlorine atoms as dancing partners "attracted" to each other); and his developing pen-and-ink style that favored shading and texture through cross-hatching. Atomics for the Millions might not be the brightest star in the constellation of Sendak-illustrated books, but it may just be the big bang where some of the elements of his illustration find their origins. See for yourself next week, when we install one or two of the drawings in our current exhibition, Maurice Sendak: A Legacy (closes May 26th).

Patrick Rodgers is Curator of the Maurice Sendak Collection at the Rosenbach Museum & Library.

Merger Media Medley

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 19 Apr 2013 21:13:00 +0000

Free Library Foundation and Rosenbach directors and board chairs with the mayor and Dr. R

Clearly the big news this week at the Rosenbach is our plan to merge with the Free Library of Philadelphia Foundation. Here's a quick round-up of some of the news coverage that the announcement has been receiving, in case you'd like to read more:

Philadelphia Inquirer 4-17-2013

AP Wire 4-17-2013 (very short notice)

WHYY 4-17-2013

KYW 4-17-2013

Philadelphia Inquirer 4-18-2013 (this second Inquirer article focuses on the Rosenbach's collections)

Metro 4-18-2013

Library Journal 4-19-2013

We also had brief clips on 6ABC and Fox29 news. A pretty good start for what is going to be an exciting new step for the Rosenbach!

Kathy Haas is the Associate Curator at the Rosenbach Museum & Library and the primary poster at the Rosen-blog

1863 is Just Around the Corner

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 12 Apr 2013 22:27:00 +0000

This week I thought I'd offer up a few behind-the-scenes photos as we get Gallery 1 ready for Voices of 1863.

Here's what the gallery looks like from the door. We decided to take a cue from the domestic nature of our gallery spaces and picked colors inspired by Victorian interiors.

The exhibit will also include a Victorian-parlor-inspired seating area to relax and digest all the wonderful materials.

Our hard-working intern, Anne Baker, is excellent at turning exhibition cases purple. Thanks Anne. Thanks also to our other collections intern, Anne Lutun, for helping us move all the heavy cases into position. I wish I had taken pictures of that project!

Here is our cozy prep-room space filled with fabulous Civil War documents waiting to be matted and framed.

See how it all comes together when Voices of 1863 opens on May 1!

Kathy Haas is the Associate Curator at the Rosenbach Museum & Library and the primary poster at the Rosen-blog

Making Connections

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 05 Apr 2013 18:00:00 +0000

Here at the Rosenbach we are thrilled when people make a personal connection with our collections. Sometimes the connection is sparked by an aesthetic encounter, sometimes a connection with a historic document, but one of our recent visitors was surprised to find a family connection here at the Rosenbach.

The story comes to us from one of our new 2012 class of docents, who explained that a colleague's daughter, who is in college studying literature, came to visit the Rosenbach a few weeks back. She was on the house tour when the docent giving the tour explained about the Rosenbach's collection of captivity narratives (accounts of white women taken captive by Indians in the 17th through 19th centuries).

It turns out that the daughter is a descendant of Mary Jemison, a woman who was taken captive in 1758 in a raid on along Marsh Creek in central Pennsylvania. Mary's story is recounted in the 1824 Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemison and our visitor was thrilled to actually see the book on our shelves. She remembered her grandmother mentioning that Mary had been the subject of a famous book and she couldn't wait to share her experience at the Rosenbach with the rest of her family

James E. Seaver, A narrative of the life of Mary Jemison. Canandaiuga: James Bemis and Co., 1824. A 824n

Mary Jemison's story is a particularly interesting captivity narrative because she became assimilated to Native American life. She married twice: first a Delaware man and then a Seneca, and despite many opportunities to rejoin white society she chose to remain with the Seneca until she died in 1833. She had eight children and numerous descendents, one of whom was our visitor!

So you never know what kind of connection you'll find at the Rosenbach. If you are intrigued by the story of Mary Jemison, you can read the whole text via Project Gutenberg. For more about the genre of captivity narratives, you can check out the 2011 Rosen-Blog post on Mary Rowlandson, whose 1682 narrative began this uniquely American literary genre.

Kathy Haas is the Associate Curator at the Rosenbach Museum & Library and the primary poster at the Rosen-blog

Voices of 1863

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 29 Mar 2013 20:59:00 +0000

This week I have been working hard on wrapping up label copy for the upcoming exhibit Voices of 1863:Witnesses to the Civil War, which will open on May 1. The show focuses on three events of 1863--the Emancipation Proclamation, Vicksburg, and Gettysburg, and as the title suggests, the main goal of the exhibit is to highlight the actual words and experiences of people connected with those events.

It's been a wonderful project to work on, since the documents here at the Rosenbach are so rich and evocative; I just love reading them and I hope you will too. It has, however, left little time for blog writing this week, so I thought I might just offer a teaser of some my favorite 1863 quotes from the exhibit.

I do not look upon the fall of Vicksburg as in the least doubtful. If however I could have carried the place on the 22nd of last month I could by this time have made a campaign that would have made the state of Mississippi almost safe for a solitary horseman to ride over. As it is the enemy have a large army in it and the season has so far advanced that water will be difficult to find for an army marching besides the dust and heat that must be encountered. The fall of Vicksburg now will only result in the opening of the Miss. River and demoralization of the enemy. I intended more from it. I did my best however and looking back can see no blunder committed

U.S. Grant, letter to his father, June 15, 1863

It now seems that our last march was a botch as usual… we marched parts of two days to reach this point and are still here whilst our destination could have been reached, if guides were worth anything, in one. this is of a piece with all our movements — to reach this point from opposite Fredericksburg I suppose we have marched nearly twenty unnecessary miles on exceedingly hot days. with this exposition is it any wonder that the rebels move faster than we do.

Alexander Biddle, 121st Pennsylvania Reg't, letter to his wife, June 19, 1863

I mounted and directed the men as well as I could. they lay down behind a fence and returned the rebel fire with great sharpness, bullets were striking everywhere and men falling — back of us was a large brick house used as a hospital, a theological seminary I believe. I rode round this up to the front of the line and here saw the Colonel. he had received a scalp wound in the back of the head but was still on his feet and went to the hospital for a few moments. I rode out with the Colonel of the NYk 20th to the left and saw the line of rebels advancing to outflank us and reported it to General Rowley — he told me to take command and bring the broken troops there. I tried to do so as well as I could but the rebels on our left got in and the men retreated behind the hospital down to the road.

Alexander Biddle, 121st Pennsyvania Reg't, letter to his wife, July 1, 1863, describing the first day's battle at Gettysburg

Both Jennie & I think that Mother, Mary & the children should come here if by any means at all they can reach us—We are in nothing like so great danger here as you are in C[hambersburg]—I think it quite likely that if the Rebs occupy Pa. long we will have them here, but there is nothing here now of sufficient importance to either attract or keep them.

John Riddle Warner, letter to his in-laws suggesting they come to Gettysburg, June 23, 1863, one week before the battle

The war is evidently growing oppressive to the Southern people. Their institution are beginning to have ideas of their own and every time an expedition goes out more or less of them follow in the wake of the army and come into camp. I am using them as teamsters, Hospital attendants, company cooks etc. thus saving soldiers to carry the musket.

I don’t know what is to become of these poor people in the end but it [is]weakening the enemy to take them from them.

U.S. Grant, letter to his sister, August 19, 1862

For more great Civil War documents, remember to check out the Rosenbach blog Today in the Civil War

Kathy Haas is the Associate Curator at the Rosenbach Museum & Library and the primary poster at the Rosen-blog

Tiny Timepiece

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 22 Mar 2013 13:21:00 +0000

Sometimes good things come in small packages, which is certainly true for this petite pocket timepiece. It measures only 2 inches across, but I think its interest far exceeds its size.

Ludovico Theodatus Muller, sundial. Brass. Augsburg, 1725-1775. Rosenbach Museum & Library 1954.2082

Nowadays, when folks want to know what time it is, they generally reach for their cellphones. But long before that was available there was the pocket sundial.

Unlike a watch-mechanism, the sun’s angle varies by latitude. To compensate, the hour ring of this 18th-century Augsburg-type equinoctial sundial is hinged, so it can adjusted for different cities. The pocket sundial’s integrated compass facilitates the necessary task of aligning the gnomon (shadow-caster) with the earth’s axis.

Ludovico Theodatus Muller, sundial. Brass. Augsburg, 1725-1775. Rosenbach Museum & Library 1954.2082

An engraved plate on the reverse specifies the latitudes of Lisbon, Rome, Venice, Vienna, Augsburg, Munich, Nuremburg, Regensburg, Prague and Riga; the preponderance of Germanic cities reflects the piece’s origin and therefore the anticipated travels of its owner. It also bears the initials LTM for its maker, Ludovicus Theodatus Muller.


Ludovico Theodatus Muller, sundial. Brass. Augsburg, 1725-1775. Rosenbach Museum & Library 1954.2082

You can find many examples of similar sundials in the online catalog of the National Maritime Museum in Britain, including other dials by Muller. With that, the time has come to wrap up this post.

Kathy Haas is the Associate Curator at the Rosenbach Museum & Library and the primary poster at the Rosen-blog

Papal Illumination

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Thu, 14 Mar 2013 17:56:00 +0000

With all the news this week being about the conclave and the new pope, I couldn't resist writing this week's post about an illustration of a pope.

Pallavicini Master, Presentation of a book to Pope Julius II by a Benedictine. Rome, ca. 1505-1510.Rosenbach Museum & Library. 1954.569

This lovely illustration on vellum exists in our collection as a single illuminated leaf. It depicts a kneeling Benedictine monk presenting a book to a pope. The pope has sometimes been attributed as Sixtus IV (pope from 1471 to 1484), but it seems more likely to be Julius II (pope from 1503-1513). Both popes were of the Della Rovere family, whose oak tree emblem appears on the cover of the book the monk is presenting. Julius II commissioned the famous Michelangelo ceiling frescoes in the Sistine Chapel (a chapel named for Sixtus IV), frescoes which also incorporate oak leaves and acorns.

The pope in this image is wearing the papal tiara, also known as the triregnum or triple crown. The tiara evolved over time, but the triple version was used from the 14th century until the 20th century. Pope Paul VI was the last pope to use one. The pope wears the traditional red shoes (which Benedict XVI more recently received so much attention for); the rest of his clothes are also red, which was the traditional papal color until 1566, when Pope Pius V kept his Dominican white and the color change stuck.

The illustration is by an unidentified artist known as the “Pallavicini Master" for similar images he made for Cardinal Antoniotto Pallavicini (1442–1507). The artist is distinguished by his classical taste--note the cameos and medallions in the border, which feature figures from Nero at the upper left to Augustus at the lower right, by way of Vulcan, the three graces, and other identifiable scenes. The artist also incorporated a relief into the central scene itself--look in the background under the window.

This piece was included in the 2001 exhibit Leaves of Gold at the Philadelphia Museum of Art and to find out more about how this and similar manuscripts were made, you can check out their wonderful site.

Kathy Haas is the Associate Curator at the Rosenbach Museum & Library and the primary poster at the Rosen-blog

No Snow in Philadelphia

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Thu, 07 Mar 2013 20:48:00 +0000

Here is what we were promised.

George Cruikshank, Boney Hatching a Bulletin or Snug Winter Quarters. 1812. Rosenbach Museum & Library 1954.501

And here's what we got.

George Cruikshank, Anglo-Gallic Salutations In London. 1822. Rosenbach Museum & Library 1954.1880.1562

I, for one, am saddened by the lack of Snowquester here in Philadelphia, since I was all set to build my Moby Dick snowman! Better luck next time.

Kathy Haas is the Associate Curator at the Rosenbach Museum & Library and the primary poster at the Rosen-blog

Marianne Moore's Typewriter

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 01 Mar 2013 19:49:00 +0000

This week's post is another in the series of posts adapted from papers on Rosenbach objects written by our wonderful new class of docents.

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Marianne Moore's typewriter came to the Rosenbach Museum & Library in 1972 through a bequest of the poet. We previously believed that this typewriter might have been the one referenced by Moore as a gift from her friend Louise Crane and her mother in 1960, but we now think that it is a 1962 model.

Smith Corona, Coronet typewriter. 1962. 2006.2970.001

What is clear is the significant role that the typewriter played in Marianne Moore’s life and her poetic development. Moore’s first job in 1911, after taking secretarial courses herself at the Carlisle School in Pennsylvania, was teaching typing, stenography and commercial English at the Carlisle Indian School. She felt that the typewriter, as well as the sewing machine and telephone, helped American women to become “less servile,” and it certainly enabled her to document a broad and rich correspondence with family, friends and fellow artists who were shaping the modernist movement in America. Moore often kept carbon copies of letters she wrote to other writers and documented her correspondence and other documents with great care; over 3000 files in the Moore Collection here include exchanges over many years with Ezra Pound, William Carlos Williams, e.e. cummings, Wallace Stevens, T.S. Eliot, and many more. Her life-long use of the typewriter facilitated the preservation of an extraordinary personal and artistic history that, happily, we can access here at the Rosenbach Museum and Library.

Although she suggested in a 1960 interview with poet Donald Hall that the complex forms of her poems happened almost accidentally (“words cluster like chromosomes,” she claimed), her process was highly crafted. From material sources collected in notebooks, including anything from nature guides to magazine advertisements, she would select, arrange and splice lines which would then be used to compose on the typewriter, creating multiple carbons at one time. Each of these carbon copies might undergo up to seven re-workings, color-coded for rhyme scheme, until she achieved a final draft that met her exacting standard. The Rosenbach collection includes many of these drafts and setting copies for her 192 published and 72 unpublished poems.

The typewriter brought what was originally an oral art squarely into a visual, technical frame, and the way Moore’s poems play to the physical boundaries of the page and the importance of shapes in her poems--individual letters and the shapes of the poems themselves--reflect this evolution. She admitted in one interview that her line length was influenced as much by the rhythm of the typewriter as the number of syllables. We might imagine, over the span of such a prolific writing life, that the sound of those keys
tapping became as familiar as her own heart beat.

Cassie MacDonald is a member of the Docent Training class 2012 and currently a docent apprentice. Her love of James Joyce and English Literature drew her to the Rosenbach’s collections

Training Museum Professionals

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 22 Feb 2013 15:18:00 +0000

So how do museum staff learn to be museum staff? There are many different pathways, as those of us at the Rosenbach can attest, but it typically involves a combination of study and practical experience. Here at the Rosenbach we have an active internship program to help train the next generation of museum and library professionals and for this week's blog post we asked current collections intern Anne Baker to talk a little about her graduate school work in museum studies. Her post gives a glimpse into the many different kinds of skills that are bound up in a museum career.

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When most people think of museums, they tend to recall the objects that they hold. So much more goes into sustaining a museum than what can be seen on the outside. Behind the walls that hold the paintings, beyond the cases used to display artifacts, there is a whole stealth network of volunteers and staff that put time and energy into creating the best museum experience possible.

I attend the University of the Arts and am enrolled in a Masters Program in Museum Communications. I know, what does this mean? This communications program involves everything from PR and marketing to development and collections management. I have learned many skills, most of them of through group projects based on real world experiences.

I write a lot of papers, mostly on museums and case studies, covering everything from dissecting the mission statement, the history, and programming, to their collection and exhibits. I also study audience development, where we take surveys at museums, input the data, and write a report based on our findings. Collections is my favorite class. In this class we discuss collection policies and how to catalog objects using computer software. We also work on a collections project for an institution. My group's project consisted of measuring objects and antique furniture to find out the square footage that the objects took up and come up with an alternative storage plan.

I am currently taking a class in PR and Marketing where we take a museum, find their marketing weakness, and create a new strategy. This includes everything from what the museum brand is, to designing a new logo, creating new materials and ads, and then marketing the new brand to the community. In a previous class my classmates and I learned basic graphic design to help us design our marketing materials.

Photo Taken by Bre Wucinich of a scavenger hunt in downtown Philadelphia for a group project

I take a lot of field trips, which is so much fun. As a class we have gone to New York City and are planning to go to Gettysburg in a few weeks. I have also gone to the Wagner Free Institute of Science, the Rodin Museum, the Philadelphia Museum of Art, and the Penn Museum (just to name a few) for class projects and assignments.

Through experiences at the Rosenbach I have learned, and am continuing to learn, more about collections; how they are organized, cataloged, and cared for. I have also been taught what it takes to put together an interesting exhibit: the prep work; design; content; objects; and research. (I also get to see amazing objects, letters, manuscripts, and works of art!)

I still have one more year to go and many more classes to take, but everything that I learn and will continue to learn helps to shape the Museum field for the future.

What people make up the museum? The Board, Director, Administrators, Marketing Designer, Exhibits Designer, Curator, Collections Manager, Registrar, Visitor Services (The Front Desk), the Membership Office, Marking and Public Relations Coordinator, Director of Communications, Development Director, Librarian, Custodian, Educational Programmer, Volunteers, Docents, and many more. So next time you are in a museum look beyond the walls and the art and remember our job is to serve you.

Anne Baker is a Museum Student at the University of the Arts. She is from Delaware, Ohio, just north of Columbus. She enjoys Art History (Italian art) and painting and is currently interning at the Rosenbach in the Collections Department, which she describes as "a blast, I have learned so much!"

Memento Maury

noreply@blogger.com (Patrick Rodgers) — Fri, 15 Feb 2013 17:47:00 +0000

My Brother’s Book, the last book completed by Maurice Sendak before he died in May of 2012, was published ten days ago and it has already sparked a number of interesting literary associations ranging from Shakespeare to Austen. It makes sense that a number of reviews so far have examined the book through a Shakespearean lens—one reason being that no less a Shakespeare scholar than Stephen Greenblatt wrote the foreword to the book and recently published a reflection on it in the New York Times, and no less a playwright than Sendak’s friend and collaborator Tony Kushner has done interviews about the book for NPR and elsewhere. As both Greenblatt and Kushner have noted, Sendak’s love of Shakespeare ran deep, and My Brother’s Book makes use of characters—among them a bear—dialogue, and motifs from Shakespeare’s late “romance” A Winter’s Tale (ca. 1610-11).

But as is true for most of his books, Sendak conjured My Brother’s Book from more than one element, drawing on not just Shakespeare but venturing into the cosmic imagery of William Blake, echoing the fraternal bonds of Theo and Vincent van Gogh (whom Sendak greatly admired), and giving shape to existential questions Sendak grappled with after the deaths of those closest to him, including his partner of 50 years, Eugene Glynn, and his own brother, Jack. Five years Maurice’s senior, it was Jack who co-oped “Maury” (as Maurice was sometimes known during their childhood in Brooklyn) into illustrating the outlandish tales he wrote when they were kids (Sendak recalled one of those stories, “They Are Inseparable,” in this interview we did with him in 2007). Maurice said they were like the Brothers Grimm, and he always looked up to his big brother and his big imagination. The Brothers Sendak collaborated on two books together: The Happy Rain (1956) and Circus Girl (1957). When Jack died, Maurice struggled to give expression to his grief. In another interview (while it’s not available online it is on our DVD There’s a Mystery There: Sendak on Sendak), Sendak talked about how a favorite weeping cherry tree outside his studio window happened to bear the brunt of his sorrow: “I quit noting that tree right after my brother died. I thought if my brother could die, then I don’t care about that tree. So I took it out on the tree. The tree was no more aware of me taking it out than it was when I hugged and kissed it.” Sendak’s other, and more important outlet for his grief was poetry, and he began writing the poem that eventually became My Brother’s Book. In the story, a fairy-like “meadow bird,” assisting Guy in his quest to find his lost brother, says, “Ask of the wild cherry tree: Does he live? Is he dead?” At the book’s climax Guy finds his way from a winter limbo to a kind of spring-time purgatory, “Its caverns and corridors paved with painted petals, wound round a wild cherry tree dusted pink,” where he finds his exiled sibling. Just as Max imagines a forest growing in his bedroom in Where the Wild Things Are, Sendak associated nature with an escape to another world in My Brother’s Book, the key difference being that Max returns from that place to his world as it was, while Guy’s world is forever altered, shattered, and without the promise of return. Yet the ending of the book—the reunion of Guy with his brother Jack amidst the branches of the cherry tree—implies a certain reconciliation with that loss because it is not really a loss at all, but a transformation, a “sea change” to borrow again from Shakespeare.

My Brother’s Book is an unusually cosmic book for Sendak, taking place across continents, galaxies, constellations, and netherworlds. But at the center of this vastness we see Sendak again wrestling with death and what lies beyond. My Brother’s Book may be more Sendak’s Tempest than his Winter’s Tale. It begins with a similar violence from the heavens, stages its own monstrosities (the bear) and ethereal spirits (the “meadow bird”), and acts as Sendak’s literary goodbye: just as Prospero voiced Shakespeare’s farewell to theater (recall his “we are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep” speech), so Sendak signed off his final book, “Goodnight, and you will dream of me.”

Tell us what you think about Sendak's posthumous book: What literary and artistic associations do you see? What other Sendak books does it bring to mind?

--Patrick Rodgers is the Curator of the Maurice Sendak Collection at the Rosenbach Museum and Library

Mary, Queen of Scots

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 08 Feb 2013 18:49:00 +0000

On February 8, 1587, Mary, Queen of Scots, was executed after almost twenty years of imprisonment. The anniversary seemed a good time to showcase a letter from Mary. (Yes, this date is in the Julian calendar not the Gregorian, but we're going to ignore that for convenience sake).

George Vertue, Maria Scotorv Regin et Franciae Dotaria. illustration for Paul de Rapin-Thoyras, The History of England. 1735. MS 1569/12

Our letter dates from 1571, when Mary was imprisoned at Sheffield Castle. Her retinue had been reduced following a Spanish plot on her behalf, and this letter was written to her departed "Faithful and good servants." We have only the first two pages, but the full text is known.

Mary, Queen of Scots, autograph letter. Sheffield castle, [18 September 1571]. MS 569/12

The letter is in French, but here's the translation of our portion, as given in Turnbull's "Letters of Mary Stuart" (1845):

My faithful and good servants seeing that it has pleased God to visit me with so much affliction and now with this strict imprisonment and the banishment of you my servants from me I return thanks to the same God who has given me strength and patience to endure it and pray that this good God may give you like grace and that you may console yourselves since your banishment is on account of the good service which you have rendered to me your Queen and mistress for that at least will be very great honour to you to have given so good proof of your fidelity in such an exigence and if it shall be the pleasure of the good God to restore me to liberty I shall never forget you all but shall reward you according to my power At present I have written to my Ambassador for your maintenance not having it in my power to do better towards you as I should wish and now at your departure I charge each one of you in the name of God and for my blessing that you be good servants to God and do not murmur against him for any affliction which may befall you for thus it is his custom to visit his chosen I commend to you the faith in which you have been baptized and instructed along with me remembering that out of the Ark of Noah there is no salvation and like as you make profession of no other sovereign than myself alone so I pray you to profess with me one God one Faith one Catholic Church as the greater portion of you have already done And especially you who are recently reclaimed from your errors strive to instruct yourselves very rigidly and found yourselves in the faith and pray to God to give you constancy for to such God will never deny his grace and to you Master John Gordon and William Douglas I pray God that he may inspire your hearts I can do no more

Secondly I commend you to live in friendship and holy charity with each other and to bear with each other's failings and now being separated from me assist yourselves mutually with the means and graces which God hath given to you and above all pray to God for me and give my very affectionate remembrances to the French Ambassador in London and tell him the state in which I am And in France present my humble duties to all my uncles and friends and particularly to my grandmother whom let some of you hasten to visit for me Beseech my uncle to urge strongly the King the Queen and Monsieur to assist my poor subjects in Scotland and if I die here to grant the same protection to my son and my friends as to myself according to the ancient league of France with Scotland...

Kathy Haas is the Assistant Curator at the Rosenbach Museum & Library and the primary poster at the Rosen-blog

The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam by Edward Fitzgerald

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 01 Feb 2013 20:09:00 +0000

This week's post is another in a series adapted from papers on Rosenbach objects written by our wonderful new class of docents.

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Interior of front cover of Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, the astronomer-poet of Persia. Translated into English verse. Edward Fitzgerald, trans. London: Bernard Quaritch, 1859. EL3.F553r859

Part translation, part creation, part nihilistic vision, and part joyful celebration of nature and wine, English scholar and translator Edward Fitzgerald’s The Rubiayat of Omar Khayyam is a widely influential work from the Victorian period. The work is typically described as a translation of poems attributed to twelfth-century Persian mathematician and scholar Omar Khayyam, but whether The Rubaiyat as we read it in English is a translation, a retelling, or something in-between, has often been debated. Whatever its definition, The Rubaiyat is a stunning work of poetic revision, popular since the Victorian era, and still influential today.

Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, the astronomer-poet of Persia. Translated into English verse. Edward Fitzgerald, trans. London: Bernard Quaritch, 1859. EL3.F553r859

To define The Rubaiyat as a translation is not altogether accurate; in fact, the original work may not even be entirely authored by Omar Khayyam. The Rubaiyat is actually a collection of four-lined verses called rubai, often referred to as quatrains in English verse. The rhyme scheme of these Persian verses follows an aaxa pattern, though some verses stray from this scheme. The English translation by Fitzgerald focuses on one complete day in which Omar Khayyam wakes up, contemplates life and death, drinks, and describes the experience of being alive. (This concept may seem familiar to Rosenbach fans, as we have another famous, influential work in our collection along these same lines…)

Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, rendered into English verse. Edward Fitzgerald, trans. London: Bernard Quaritch, 1872. EL3.F553r 872

Fitzgerald probably first encountered a “complete” rubaiyat attributed to Khayyam in the Bodleian Library in Oxford. His translation of the Persian rests in the Victorian traditions of revision and interpretation. Victorian authors and translators often concerned themselves more with their interpretations of literature written in other languages rather than accuracy, and Fitzgerald is no exception. He sometimes described his rubaiyat not as a translation but as a “rendering” of the original work. He also revised his own work continually.

Front cover of Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, the astronomer-poet of Persia. Translated into English verse. Edward Fitzgerald, trans. London: Bernard Quaritch, 1859. EL3.F553r859

In fact, Fitzgerald produced four editions of The Rubaiyat in his lifetime, and a fifth was published posthumously. You can compare the text of these different editions at therubaiyat.com. We have several editions at the Rosenbach: a first edition from 1859, a third edition from 1872, and a fourth edition from 1879, all published by Bernard Quaritch. We also have two autographed prints of stanzas from The Rubaiyat signed by Fitzgerald, which exemplify the popularity of the poem during Fitzgerald’s lifetime. Along with these are two notes: one with a suggested translation for Fitzgerald and one from Fitzgerald declining a different suggestion, with the admissions that he was both “painfully aware of [his] limitation” in the translation while still battling “the inclination to adjust and amend." It's no wonder Fitzgerald produced so many editions of this text!

Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, and the Salman and Absal of Jami. Edward Fitzgerald. trans. London: Bernard Quaritch, 1879.EL3.F553 879

Though The Rubaiyat holds an important place in Victorian culture and literature, and was immensely popular after a time, it was not an immediate success. The first edition sat for so long at Quaritch that it ended up in the penny box before finally being noticed by Pre-Raphaelite poet and painter Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Soon after the Pre-Raphaelites celebrated the poem, it rose in popularity. Today, The Rubaiyat is still widely available in print—so widely available that some copies cost less than three dollars on Amazon. Though not the most talked about poem in literature today, The Rubaiyat shows no signs of disappearing from the literary canon, nor from our collection.

Ivy McDaniels is a member of the Docent Training class 2012 and currently a docent apprentice. Her love of English Literature drew her to the Rosenbach’s collections

Robert Burns

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Thu, 24 Jan 2013 20:28:00 +0000

This week's blog post is again courtesy of Emelye Keyser, the Rosenbach collections intern who wrote a previous post on Rudimentum Novitiorum. Given that Emelye came to the Rosenbach after graduating from the University of Edinburgh, we couldn't resist asking her to write a piece for tomorrow's Burns night.

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Robert Burns did for the Scottish language what Chaucer had done for English nearly four centuries before: he proved it to be capable of sophisticated poetry and he put his country on the literary map. He penned universal truths – ‘a man’s a man for a’ that’ and ‘the best-laid schemes of mice an’ men / Gang aft agley’ – using the hitherto little-acknowledged (or understood) vernacular, and compelled the English to sing in his language every New Year’s Eve with ‘Auld Lang Syne.’ The Rosenbach will be celebrating the 254th birthday of Scotland's Bard on Friday the 25th of January, and where better to raise a glass of Scotch to Rabbie than the resting place of one of the earliest Tam o’ Shanter manuscripts!

Robert Burns, "Tam O'Shanter": autograph manuscript. [1790]. EL2 .B967 MS3

“Tam O' Shanter” celebrates Scotland’s culture, folklore, and landscape. Yet its themes are recognizable and appealing to all: the tribulations of returning home from drinking; the supernatural horrors of woodlands at night. Set in the coastal town of Ayr, southwest of Glasgow, the poem recounts the adventures of Tam as he rides his faithful mare, Maggie, home from the pub late one stormy night. Hearing a commotion coming from within Alloway Kirk, Tam approaches a window and watches as party of 'warlocks and witches' dance about the church. He is spotted when he can't help applauding a particularly comely demon and is chased through the night by her, finally escaping when he crosses a stream – though poor Maggie makes less of a clean getaway than her master!

Burns allegedly wrote “Tam O’ Shanter” at the request of Francis Grose, who in 1790 was completing his Antiquaries of Scotland. Burns met Grose and Adam Mansfeldt de Cardonnel-Lawson, both amateur antiquarians, at Friar Carse, the home of a mutual friend; the poet asked Grose to include Alloway Kirk in his book, and Grose in turn promised to do so if Burns would pen a story about the place. The Rosenbach’s “Tam O’ Shanter” is the manuscript that Burns sent to Cardonnel-Lawson several days after they met. Some time in the early nineteenth century Cardonnel-Lawson’s son had it bound with material that reflected the story of its conception: alongside “Tam” there is a picture and hand-written description of Friar Carse, a portrait of Burns, a pencil drawing of Burns’ birthplace, a drawing of Alloway Kirk, and a short essay on the kirk that borrows heavily from the published description in Antiquaries of Scotland. The poem has since been cut from its binding, and in the pictures below it appears as loose-leaf.

Robert Burns, "Tam O'Shanter": autograph manuscript. [1790] EL2 .B967 MS3

"Tam O' Shanter” can be a challenging read, written as it is in 18th-century Scots. Several English translations exist, but the power of the language is compromised: best to read the poem in the original with the English alongside it. Some tips from an American who lived in Edinburgh: “ken” is the Scottish word for “know” and is never conjugated; “unco” can mean “strangely,” “remarkably,” or “a lot”; and almost all other unfamiliar expressions stand for alcohol or those who enjoy it!

The best way to enjoy “Tam” is not to read it, but to listen to it, either here or tomorrow evening at the Rosenbach’s celebration!

Emelye Keyser is a graduate of the University of Edinburgh and is currently interning in the collections department of the Rosenbach Museum & Library.

The Many Lives of Goody Two Shoes

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 18 Jan 2013 14:15:00 +0000

This past fall the Rosenbach was joined by a wonderful new class of docents. Their rigorous training included ten weeks of lectures and workshops as well as two written assignments on books and objects in the Rosenbach collections. Over the next few weeks we plan to share a selection of their work; we hope you enjoy it.

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Dr. A.S.W. Rosenbach was a world-renowned bibliophile. While I too have been a lifelong lover of books (at a much humbler level), I did not feel a personal connection to “Dr. R.” until I recently had the opportunity to touch, read, and resonate to his collection of “Goody Two-Shoes” books, centuries-old nursery tales, which were once part of his personal library and are now part of the Rosenbach Museum & Library holdings.

The history of little Goody Two-Shoes. London : printed for T. Carnan and F. Newbery, 1772. Rosenbach Museum & Library. EL2.A1 go 772

The moment the 240-year-old book emerged from its red slip-case, I was smitten: I loved its tiny size, its worn but still lovely Dutch paper covers, its humorously long title, its many charming, miniature wood-cut illustrations, and best of all, the story itself, as told in its 156 pages.

This particular book had been printed in London in 1772 by T. Carnan and F. Newbery, “successors to the late Mr. John Newbery,” the publisher of the original 1765 edition (not in the Rosenbach collection). If we could time-travel, we should be able to pay a visit to Messrs. Carnan and Newbery, because on the second page they thoughtfully provided their exact location, “at the corner of St. Paul’s Church Yard and Ludgate-street,…No. 65, near the Bar …” On the third page yet another variation of the title is provided as the heading to the first chapter.

I have learned that the name “Goody Two-Shoes” has had many applications and connotations: it is the title (or the salient part thereof) of this centuries-old fable; it is one of the sobriquets of the protagonist of this story; and in more modern times, it has morphed into a term of belittlement. In current English slang, a “goody two-shoes” is someone who is cloyingly pious and smugly self-righteous. The term is not considered a compliment today.

The history of little Goody Two-Shoes. London : printed for T. Carnan and F. Newbery, 1772. Rosenbach Museum & Library. EL2.A1 go 772

But once upon a time, Margery Meanwell, a.k.a. Two-Shoes, a.k.a. Little Goody Two-Shoes, a.k.a. Old Goody Two-Shoes, a.k.a Goody Two-Shoes, a.k.a. Mrs. Margery, and yes, eventually the Lady Jones, was a beloved heroine to generations of children, and probably even more so to their parents, who were earnestly endeavoring to instill in their offspring the tenets of Christian virtue, which can be boiled down to “Faith, Hope, and Charity,” plus a good measure of ye olde Protestant work ethic.

This heroine’s slew of names reflect her Cinderella saga, the allegorical tale of an orphaned child who is beset with many misfortunes, but continues to rise through life because of her unshakable piety, her industry and honesty, and her unstinting kindness. In the early chapters, her parents, the Meanwells, are driven from their farm by the cruel Sir Timothy Gripe and Farmer Graspall, leaving the family destitute. The father soon succumbs to a fever, the mother dies of a broken heart, and little Margery and brother Tom are left alone in the world and impoverished, so poor that the little girl has only one shoe. The children are soon befriended by a clergyman and then his rich relative, the Gentleman, who sends Tom off to become a sailor and orders new “cloaths” for Margery, including a pair of shoes. Her grief at the departure of her sibling is mollified by the arrival of her new shoes. She delightedly cries out "two shoes," which becomes the basis of her classic sobriquet.

The destitute orphan, through diligent study and hard work, becomes a self-sufficient schoolmistress. She is not only a teacher of children, but also a savior of animals, who then magically assume human-like powers and become her faithful companions. In the tradition of heroic sagas, Margery Meanwell, now Miss Goody Two-Shoes, must undergo many tribulations and tests of her faith, including being locked in a church thought by many to be haunted, the destruction of her schoolhouse, the on-going enmity of Sir Timothy Gripe, and more. She is even tried as a witch (and of course acquitted). Ultimately, our flawless paragon is rewarded for her virtue: she becomes the cherished wife of a rich nobleman, is reunited with her long-lost brother, and lives happily ever after, while continuing to bestow her charity upon all who need it.

To my adult surprise and delight, I discovered that what would seem to be an ingenuous allegorical tale is actually laced with sly irony. For example, on the title page, we are directed to “See the Original Manuscript in the Vatican at Rome, and the Cuts by Michael Angelo; illustrated with the Comments of our great Modern Critics.” The wit of the anonymous author shines through the deliberate platitudes with which the story is laden. To reinforce its moral weight, the narrative is salted with interstitial adages such the following: “A friend in your need is a friend indeed”; “Where pride goes, shame will soon follow”; “Honey catches more flies than vinegar.” Ponderous pronouncements are offset by clever turns-of-phrase.

Some literary theorists, including Washington Irving, have attributed its authorship to Oliver Goldsmith; others have disputed this allegation and offered alternative and/or additional candidates, including John Newbery himself, as well as the names of two brothers, Giles and Griffith Jones. As I perused the story in the Rosenbach reading room, it seemed to me that the writing reflects more than one voice, so I find plausible the opinion of some that the original work was a collaborative effort. Indeed, I can imagine that collaboration taking place in a congenial London tavern! However, despite more than two hundred years of speculation and debate, it seems unlikely that authorship will ever be definitively determined.

Kerry Bryan is a member of the Docent Training class 2012 and currently a docent apprentice. Her love of American History and Literature drew her to the Rosenbach’s collections.

Turning Point

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 11 Jan 2013 18:49:00 +0000

Spending time in another century is one of the joys of museum life. Over the last week I've been buried in Civil War manuscripts, to the point that when I walk down the street my brain reruns fragments of letters I've read or muses on the precise sequences of events in a particular day's battle. When I spend time with the Civil War, what comes out is reams of label text (in this case for the upcoming exhibit Voices of 1863). But when composer-in-residence Dave Burrell spends time with Civil War manuscripts, what comes out is fascinating and powerful music.

We've written about Burrell's previous projects on the blog (see here and here), but this week I was able to take a brief break from my own Civil War musings to hear a preview of his compositions for the Turning Point concerts to be held next week on Wednesday and Saturday.

Turning Point is the third of five years of Civil War-themed compositions and each year has had a very different organizing idea. The first program, Portraits of Civil War Heroes, took as its subject famous individuals such as John Brown and Robert E. Lee. Last year's Civilians in Wartime was organized around groups of people--spies, children, etc.. This year's concert is inspired by events--the Emancipation Proclamation, Gettysburg, Vicksburg. But in talking with Dave Burrell about his compositions, it is clear that he has strong mental and emotional impressions of the people experiencing the events: he envisions a congregation's jubilant but confused response to the Emancipation Proclamation or the tired and hungry Confederates besieged at Vicksburg. These images and emotions are not in the music in a strictly narrative way, but inform the compositions and give them great depth.

I am no music critic, so I don't want to say too much about the music itself, except to say that I think you'll like it. If you came to last year's performance you might be especially interested in One Nation, which opens the concert. This composition intertwines the themes of Yankee Doodle and Dixie; last year Burrell included an intentionally simple treatment of the piece, with the plan that it could grow and develop musically in subsequent years. Having heard this year's expansion, even without the trombone part, I have to say it's one of my favorite pieces in the program. My other personal favorite is Battle of Vicksburg which closes the program. To me, this piece somehow evokes both the rattle of the perpetual shelling and a beautiful sense of solemnity.

Again, my words can't do justice to Burrell's work, so if you want to hear this complex and wonderful music for yourself, please be sure to RSVP to reserve your tickets. In the past, these concerts have sold out. You can call (215)732-1600, ext. 123 or e-mail rsvp@rosenbach.org.

Kathy Haas is the Assistant Curator at the Rosenbach Museum & Library and the primary poster at the Rosen-blog

Belt Book

noreply@blogger.com (Rosybrook) — Fri, 04 Jan 2013 18:25:00 +0000

If you have a smartphone or PDA, where do you keep it for easy access to all your important information? Maybe in your pocket (if it will fit), or in your purse (if you carry one), or maybe in a holster or belt clip. Here's a close up of our librarian Elizabeth Fuller sporting her smartphone holster.

It turns out medieval folks also needed to have their information at their fingertips and sometimes they employed a very similar solution--the belt book.

Tabula festorum mobilium cum canone: manuscript.

[York?] England, [between 1406 and 1424].

Rosenbach Museum & Library. MS 1004/29

The Rosenbach's belt book is from England and dates from the first quarter of the 15th century. It was once carried by a physician on a cord attached to his girdle. The book's ten leaves contain calendar infomation, tables of solar and lunar eclipses, and medical charts, each folded to fit compactly between the long narrow covers.

Here is one of the calendar pages, which clearly shows how the pages were folded and unfolded.


Tabula festorum mobilium cum canone: manuscript. [York?] England, [between 1406 and 1424]. Rosenbach Museum & Library. MS 1004/29

This image shows one of the pages of eclipses; the red is used to show the portion obscured in a solar eclipse and the blue for lunar eclipses.

Tabula festorum mobilium cum canone: manuscript.

[York?] England, [between 1406 and 1424].

Rosenbach Museum & Library. MS 1004/29

The two medical pages in the almanac are particularly interesting; they include an "ymago flebotomie," identifying the major veins and what ailments could be treated by bleeding them, and a urine wheel depicting 20 flasks of urine with accompanying descriptions of the colors of the urine and what they signify.

Tabula festorum mobilium cum canone: manuscript.

[York?] England, [between 1406 and 1424].

Rosenbach Museum & Library. MS 1004/29

Tabula festorum mobilium cum canone: manuscript.

[York?] England, [between 1406 and 1424].

Rosenbach Museum & Library. MS 1004/29

Bloodletting and urine testing were two common tools in medieval medicine; the urine flask (or jordan) was the visual symbol of a doctor, much like a stethoscope is today. An illustration in the Ellesmere manuscript of the Canterbury Tales shows a physician holding his flask even while on horseback. You can find out more about medieval urine analysis in this wonderful article from the Canadian Medical Journal.

So the next time you reach for your smartphone and fumble to unlock the screen, remember our unknown medieval man unfolding and refolding his own handy device.

Kathy Haas is the Assistant Curator at the Rosenbach Museum & Library and the primary poster at the Rosen-blog

Holiday Merrymaking

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 21 Dec 2012 19:39:00 +0000

The Rosenbach will be closed from December 24 through January 1, so this will be the last blog post of 2012. As I often do, I decided to turn to our collection of Cruikshank illustrations for some images, this time of holiday merriment. If you aren't familiar with George Cruikshank, you might enjoy this post from a couple of years ago, that explains his work and our holdings.

We hope you have all been enjoying a festive round of holiday parties. These Cruikshank characters seem to be having some December fun.

George Cruikshank, December from The Comic Almanack. London: Charles Tilt, 1835. Rosenbach Museum & Library 1954.3208

This image is from the 1835 version of Cruikshank's Comic Almanack; you can read more about the Almanack and its pseudonymous compiler Rigdum Funnidos in a neat blog post from the Princeton graphic arts collection and another one from The Cat's Meat Shop.

Here are some high spirited New Year's revellers, this time from the 1838 edition of the Almanack. The girl on the left holds a full cornucopia marked 1838, while the veiled, wraithlike woman on the right drags away an empty cornucopia marked 1837.

George Cruikshank, January from The Comic Almanack. London: Charles Tilt, 1838. Rosenbach Museum & Library 1954.1880.3586

But of course what comes of too many holiday parties is the dread indigestion, which is depicted as torment by devils in this Cruikshank print. It one of several he did depicting medical maladies. Note the pudding on the table with the festive sprig of holly and the second plum pudding being carried by the blue-clad figure in front of the hearth--in my case the culprit is more likely to be too much cheese or artichoke dip.

George Cruikshank after Alfred Crowquill, Indigestion. London: S Knight, 1825. Rosenbach Museum & Library 1954.139

Enjoy the last few days of 2012, beware the indigestion, and we'll see you in the New Year!

Kathy Haas is the Assistant Curator at the Rosenbach Museum & Library and the primary poster at the Rosen-blog

Death of Washington

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 14 Dec 2012 18:55:00 +0000

Our national celebration of Washington comes on his birthday, February 22 (February 11 according to the Julian calendar that he would have used then), but December 14 marks the day of his death. Given that Washington has often been revered as a sort of secular saint, it seems only fitting to remember him today as well.

Washington had spent December 12, 1799 out inspecting Mount Vernon on horseback in snowy wet weather. He developed a sore throat and other symptoms including hoarseness, difficulty swallowing, and difficulty breathing, and died sometime between 10 and 11 PM on December 14. You can read a much more detailed eyewitness account of his illness from Tobias Lear, his secretary as well as a modern physician's attempt at a historical diagnosis (he concludes it was epiglottitis).

Washington's death inspiring a huge public outpouring of sentiment: eulogies, poems, songs, orations, and visual remembrances. Printmakers embraced both patriotism and a profit opportunity and supplied many memorial images, such as this one, printed in Philadelphia in 1800 by Pember & Luzarder.

Columbia lamenting the loss of her son. Philadelphia: Pember & Luzarder, 1800. Rosenbach Museum & Library 1954.797

The text at the bottom explains what's going: "Columbia lamenting the loss of her Son/ Who redeem'd her from Slav'ry & Liberty won/While Fame is directed by Justice to Spread/The sad tidings afar that Washington's dead." The mourning woman on the left represents Columbia, while the woman on the right represents Justice, who is pointing to Fame, which is embodied as an angel with a trumpet. The print also offers a pithy epitaph for Washington, "Lived respected and Fear'd - Died Lamented and rever'd."

The picture is awash with the classical imagery that was so popular at the time: Washington's image (after the Stuart portrait) sits atop a giant urn and obelisk. Not to mention the allegorical figures themselves. I'm sure the palm trees must have some classical or symbolic significance, but I confess I don't know what. This interview from curator Kim Ivey from Colonial Williamsburg talks about some of the popular symbols found in mourning art and also about the role of Washington's death in contributing to a fashion for all types of mourning pictures, needlework, jewelry, etc. Some of it was Washington's popularity, but there were cultural factors as well, such as "the neoclassical movement, the study of Greek and Roman ruins, just the whole religious movement during the 18th century, and free will." She notes that the death of Princess Charlotte in England in 1817 also set off a great period of mourning.

If you're feeling the urge to remember George Washington, mark your calendar for the Rosenbach's Founding Fathers Hands-on-Tour being offered at 3 PM on January 4.

Kathy Haas is the Assistant Curator at the Rosenbach Museum & Library and the primary poster at the Rosen-blog

Rudimentum Novitiorum

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 07 Dec 2012 19:11:00 +0000

I’m Emelye, a new intern here with an inclination towards all things medieval. This week I want to share little bit about a particularly impressive item in the Rosenbach’s incunabula collection. Titled Rudimentum Novitiorum, this book was printed in Lübeck, Germany in 1475 – one year before the printing press even came to England. The work’s author remains unknown, but its purpose is evident: it was intended as a textbook for novice monks and expounds the history of the world, beginning with Creation and weaving its way down through contemporary events.

The Rudimentum Novitiorum is a formidable object. I thought my high school calculus book had been bad: I pity the monk who had to lug this thing around. Elizabeth (the Rosenbach librarian) and I wrestled the 16.5 x 12 x 5 inch, 950-odd page volume, in its modern wood binding, into the research room and heaved it gently onto a cradle. This is what we opened up to:

Rudimentum Novitiorum. Lubeck: Lucas Brandis, 1475. Rosenbach Museum & Library Incun 475r

The script is beautifully printed in Latin, and has been well-studied, judging by the hand-written annotations in the margins. The numbers at the tops of the pages have also been hand-written in red ink, and most openings have one or more woodcuts adorning the text – though the photo below catches the printer in the act of using the same woodcut to illustrate two different stories. Above, on the left hand page, Adam and Eve’s immediate descendants are mapped; on the right hand page a scribe sits within a letter A.

Rudimentum Novitiorum. Lubeck: Lucas Brandis, 1475. Rosenbach Museum & Library Incun 475r

The most exciting thing about this volume is the inclusion of the first printed world map (excluding very simple T-O diagrams of the earth):

Rudimentum Novitiorum. Lubeck: Lucas Brandis, 1475. Rosenbach Museum & Library Incun 475r

Printed using two half-circle woodcuts, one on each page, the map may have been done using new technology, but it embraces many medieval conventions. East – rather than north – is at the top of the page (you can just make out the word ‘orient’), and the map is divided into three continents, with Asia spanning the entire upper half of the world. Jerusalem is at the center, largely lost in the crease of the book. Priority is placed upon the spiritual importance of a place – thus Jerusalem is nearer to Rome than to Greece – and upon the inclusion of important landmarks, rather than parsing out their geographical locations and relationships.

The historian V. Tooley wrote that “it is unwise to assume that medieval scholars were as ignorant as their maps would imply. Their aim might be, and probably was, symbolic and moral rather than utilitarian.” Medieval maps were not meant as travel guides: check out the map of the Holy Land, below, which emphasizes the connection between locations and specific Biblical lines:

Rudimentum Novitiorum. Lubeck: Lucas Brandis, 1475. Rosenbach Museum & Library Incun 475r

If this approach seems impractical, rest assured: others at the turn of the sixteenth century felt the same way. Within a few years of Rudimentum Novitiorum, printed versions of Ptolemy's Geographia appeared including maps based on Ptolomy’s model and mapmaking changed forever.

Emelye Keyser is a graduate of the University of Edinburgh and is currently interning in the collections department of the Rosenbach Museum & Library.

Jewish History and Heritage Tours

noreply@blogger.com (Kathy) — Fri, 30 Nov 2012 18:43:00 +0000

What are you doing next Wednesday night at 6? Here at the Rosenbach we will be having a special docent-led thematic tour on "Jewish History & Heritage in the Rosenbach Home." In order to support this tour (which will also run December 12 and 19) we will be putting out some special Jewish materials in the library display case for the month of December. Here are a couple of the items, to pique your interest.

Pierre Martinez, Mafteah Leshon ha-kodesh, that is, The key of the holy tongue. Imprinted at Leyden: by Francis Raphelengius, 1593.Rosenbach Museum & Library. J 593

This 1593 volume is the first Hebrew grammar published in English. The Key of the Holy Tongue is a translation by the Puritan scholar John Udall of Pierre Martinez's earlier grammar written in Latin. As the title promises, it has been "Englished for the Benefit of Those that (being Ignorant in the Latin) are Desirous to Learn the Holy Tongue."

Isaac Leeser, ed. Sidur Sifte Tsadikim . The form of prayers according to the custom of the Spanish and Portuguese Jews. 2nd ed. Philadelphia: Stereotyped by Slote & Mooney, 5617 [i.e. 1857] Rosenbach Museum & Library. Ro3 857

On a more personal Rosenbach level, here is a prayer book that belonged to Isabella Polock Rosenbach, the Rosenbach brothers' mother. It is from the 1857 printing of The Form of Prayers According to the Custom of the Spanish and Portuguese Jews, edited by Isaac Leeser. One odd thing about the beautiful binding--her maiden name is typically spelled "Polock," but on all the volumes in this prayerbook set it appears as "Polok." I don't know if this was an acceptable variant or simply a misprint.

To see more, and to hear the wonderful stories associated with the Rosenbach's collection of Jewish material, you'll have to come to the museum. The tour is included with admission and is free for members, but RSVPs are recommended (215-732-1600, ext. 123 or e-mail rsvp@rosenbach.org) --I believe the December 12 tour is already sold out, so don't delay.

Kathy Haas is the Assistant Curator at the Rosenbach Museum & Library and the primary poster at the Rosen-blog