Smithsonian Collections Blog

The People of India - The Bhali Sultans

2012-02-23T08:00:00.004-05:00

The People of India series was researched and written by School Without Walls student, Cal Berer. Cal was an intern at the Freer|Sackler Archives from January 2011-June 20011 where he was then sponsored by the State Department to learn Hindi while spending the summer in India.

Bhali Sultans

Earlier I discussed the fall of the Bhurs, the tribe which, until the early 14th century, dominated Oude. The Bhali Sultans were instrumental in their defeat. The tribe’s history is a blend of fact and folklore, but the story has it that “several centuries” before the British arrived in India, a prominent Rajpoot by the name of Rae Buriar arrived in Oude, and married two women. Their union produced an impressive offspring, so numerous that within several generations they were able to represent a meaningful opposition to the Bhur landowners who controlled their villages. It was around this time that Allahudin Ghazi, the Sultan of Delhi, arrived to annex Oude, and expel the Bhurs. He summoned the Bhali tribe leaders, and the first to approach him thrust his spear into the ground before the Sultan. Ghazi was so impressed by this display that he is reported to have exclaimed “What king of the spear is this?” Thus the tribe received their name, bhali meaning spear, and sultan king. Their assistance in the war was crucial, and in honor of the sultan’s blessing they always carried spears into battle. The tribe remained Hindu until the 17th century, when the majority of them converted to Islam.

To see all text and images of the Bhali Sultans as they are represented in the People of India, go to our catalog in the Collections Search Center.

The People of India series will be published once a month highlighting the various tribes as they're covered in the People of India.

Cal Berer, Intern

Freer|Sackler Archives

Show us your joie de vivre: Mardi Gras in the Rinzler Archives

2012-02-17T18:15:00.000-05:00

Photo by David Hobson

It's Carnival season! In celebration of Mardi Gras weekend, the Ralph Rinzler Folklife Archives present an assortment of bons temps-themed resources available in our collections.

Amidst the indulgent fêting the next few days demand, one thing is absolutely essential: party music. From field recordings of the street festival atmosphere to fiery and wailing brass band records fit for your Friday night, Mardi Gras is alive and well in the stacks.

Music of New Orleans, Volume 1: Music of the Streets/Music of Mardi Gras, recorded by Samuel B. Charters (Folkways Records FA 2461)

Music of Mardi Gras offers a glimpse of carnivals past. Side two of this record is a "musical portrait" of Mardi Gras day, March 5, 1957. "Every spring, the day before Lent, New Orleans noisily rises to shout its individuality," observes Samuel Charters in his liner notes. His recording begins at dawn with the Mardi Gras Indians and ends with the Krewe of Momus parade later that night. The juxtaposition of the two events is fascinating: this album represents one of the first commercially-available recordings of Mardi Gras Indians, and the Mistick Krewe of Momus has not held a parade since the New Orleans City Council passed an ordinance barring social clubs from excluding people based on "race, color, sex, sexual orientation, national origin, ancestry, age, physical condition or disability" in 1991.

Sid Davilla and Freddie Kohlman's Band: Blowout at Mardi Gras (Cook Records 1084)

While this album technically refers to the Mardi Gras Lounge in New Orleans, the music is evocative of a ball during Carnival season. Recorded live on a Saturday night circa 1955, this high-energy, wonderfully wild dixieland jazz recording retains all the applause, hoots and hollers. It's a party in a record sleeve. In the liner notes, Emory Cook sets the scene: "It was like the night Beethoven died--thunder, lightning, and all a manner of cosmic disturbances on Bourbon Street. But the cash customers were there anyway...adding their part to a storm brewed indoors at the Mardi Gras Lounge."

Photo by Jeff Tinsley

The Smithsonian Folklife Festival Records have a few Mardi Gras-related materials as well. The 1985 Festival of American Folklife featured a program on Louisiana and a Mardi Gras-style parade, drawing huge crowds to the National Mall to witness the elaborate floats (pictured at right) and boogie with the brass bands . Big Chief Monk Boudreaux and the Golden Eagles Mardi Gras Indian Tribe (pictured above) performed at the Been in the Storm So Long evening concert series at the 2006 Smithsonian Folklife Festival, which featured musicians from a Katrina-ravaged New Orleans. Photographs, video and audio recordings of these events are available to use for research in the archives, but the 1985 and 2006 program books are accessible in their entirety through the SIRIS catalog.

Now go forth and eat your weight in king cake! May your Mardi Gras be loud and covered in beads!

-Cecilia Peterson, Ralph Rinzler Folklife Archives and Collections

Painting the World by Hand

2012-02-14T08:00:00.031-05:00

Daniel Putnam Brinley and Hugh Troy at work on globe for the Daily News Building

What type of medium do you use to paint the world? American artist Daniel Putnam Brinley (1879-1963) used oil. This 1930 Peter A. Juley & Son photo depicts Brinley (standing below) and his assistant Hugh Troy painting the globe for the Daily News Building in New York City. Located in the building’s lobby, the 12 foot in diameter globe is made from aluminum and rotates on its axis. It took the artists six months to complete the map, however in the 1960s the map was repainted to reflect changes to names and territories. Check out other images of Brinley and Troy at work here.

Emily Moazami, Photograph Archives, Research & Scholars Center, Smithsonian American Art Museum

Discovering Treasures in the National Anthropological Archives

2012-02-13T09:00:00.000-05:00

Ms 2560a – (front cover) Field Notes on Arapahoan
languages and culture (1899 – 1901)

I keep making amazing discoveries in the NAA collection! Hidden treasures! Well, admittedly my main discovery tool is SIRIS (and now the Collections Search Center), so one could argue that I’m only discovering things that someone else created, collected, cataloged, and entered into the database - available online to the world and accessed by hundreds of thousands of people annually. Maybe it’s not on a par with discovering a new moon of Jupiter, but for me such discoveries remain incredibly exciting, a potent reaffirmation of the importance of preserving these materials and making them accessible in ways that allow other people to make their own exciting discoveries.
Working on our Save America’s Treasures project to preserve early manuscripts, especially those relating to endangered languages, and to digitize as much material as possible for web access has led me into new areas of the collection. I’m not a linguist and don’t usually get excited by manuscripts about "vowel length" – but as an anthropologist I know how much people treasure their native languages and how precious documentation of past speech and speakers can be. Check out these "discoveries."

Ms 338c - Chukchee Vocabularies 1852-1855,
in process of conservation

Chukchee Vocabularies 1852-1855 Extract from SIRIS entry: Chuckchi ("Yerigen") and Asiatic Eskimo ("Chak-lock") Vocabularies. Rodgers North Pacific Expedition, 1852-55; includes 366 Chukchi and 150 Eskimo words, with phonetic notes on vowel length and pitch. Languages include Chuckchi (Tchuktchi) and Yerigen (Chukchi) vocabulary, Korak (Koriaks), Siberian stock; Glasenap Harbor, Straits of Seniavine, west side of Behring Straits. Chaklock vocabulary (Asiatic Eskimo, Eskimauan stock).

Here’s what Dr. Igor Krupnik, Curator of Arctic Ethnology, had to say about it: "The dictionaries you have asked about are very famous linguistic records from 1852. These are truly precious documents and the ones we referred to back in 1979 while working on the historical distribution of indigenous languages and dialects at the Bering Strait. They actually recorded two languages, one Chukchi and another Siberian Yupik (Eskimo) being spoken just two miles apart, but exactly as we reconstructed it for the mid-1800s based on other historical and oral records. I did my field work in that same area and I have passed the site where they collected these dictionaries on several occasions during the late 1970s and early 1980s." At that time, Igor and his Russian colleagues were glad to have access to photocopies of photocopies from the NAA collections. The material is now scheduled for conservation and digitization, after which it will be placed online.

Ms 2560b – Field Notes on Arapahoan
languages and culture (1899 – 1901)

Field Notes on Arapahoan languages and culture (1899 – 1901)
Extract from SIRIS entry: 29 notebooks.
Well, there is really nothing more in this record, except noting the creator as A.L. Kroeber – but we’re working on that now that I’ve discovered this gem.

Kroeber field notes – that’s huge! Alfred L. Kroeber , a student of Franz Boas, was one of the first PhDs in the field of anthropology, and went on to shape the discipline in enduring ways. These notebooks from his earliest fieldwork include a wealth of rich detail, enlivening his generalized publications on culture and language with the names of individuals, prices paid for objects purchased, and shadowy suggestions of the enormous linguistic diversity already slipping away. When Kroeber was doing his fieldwork among the Southern Arapaho in 1899 he not only collected extensive linguistic data on Arapaho proper and its close relative Gros Ventre (or Atsina), he also located speakers of the languages of two groups that had “long since coalesced with the Arapaho,” Besawunena and the Nawathinehena. Working with Tall Bear and Kaniib, he recorded unique information on the vocabularies of these two languages, including many words and much phonetic detail that never made it into his 1916 publication “Arapaho Dialects.”

Kroeber used cheap paper (typical grad student!) and these notebooks are now in serious need of conservation attention before they can be digitized.

Ms 7235 - Vocabularies and notes based
on material from Brazilian slaves

Vocabularies and notes based on material from Brazilian slaves
Extract from SIRIS entry: This manuscript probably represents what Horatio Hale originally intended to publish on southern Africa in his Philology and Ethnology that is one of the volumes of the report of the United States Exploring Expedition (Wilkes Expedition). It includes several vocabularies, comparative vocabularies, and notes on the location and appearance (especially the cicatrization and other body decoration) of African tribes.

The U.S. Ex Ex (led by Lt. Charles Wilkes) was a scientific expedition that circumnavigated the globe 1838-42 making observations and collecting specimens that formed the historical nucleus of Smithsonian collections. Expedition members collected many things that suggest the level of global exchange already taking place, but nothing that speaks so poignantly to the darkest side of that exchange – the trade in human lives that brought Africans to Brazil. While in Rio de Janeiro, Hale interviewed "natives of Africa" and obtained notes on more than a dozen languages. He also made drawings of facial scarification marks (cicatrixes) and indicated the particular places associated with each type of mark. Real people, real places. The manuscript is now digitized – look for it online soon.

--Candace Greene, Special Projects, National Anthropological Archives

Crossing a Barrier of Footlights

2012-02-10T15:00:00.000-05:00

Crossing a Barrier of Footlights is a presentation you don’t want to miss! It is sponsored by the District of Columbia Public Library and conducted by Tom Minter, Teaching Artist, Washington National Opera and the Kennedy Center, and features archival materials from the Evans-Tibbs collection at the Anacostia Community Museum Archives.

The program will highlight the artistic contributions of the National Negro Opera Company and one of its first reigning divas: Madame Lillian Evanti, who was born and raised in DC, taught in the public school system, and enjoyed a pre-eminent international operatic career, establishing a national platform and prominence that predated Marian Anderson. The accomplishments of this leading African American woman are linked to DC community history; the program will also offer an opportunity to discover the other “hat” Madame wore, that of composer. You can view a previous post about Mme. Evanti here.

Evans-Tibbs Collection, Anacostia Community Museum Archives, Smithsonian Institution
Gift of the Estate of Thurlow E. Tibbs, Jr.

The hour–long program will first be held at the Dorothy Height/Benning Road library on Monday February, 13^th, at 1p.m., and then repeated on Friday, February 17^th, at 1 p.m., at the Georgetown Library. I will be onsite at both locations to answer any questions pertaining to the collection so look for me, Jennifer Morris!

Space is limited; please call to inquire about availability.

Benning Road Library: 202 -281 -2583

Georgetown Library: 202 -727 -0232

Jennifer Morris

Archivist

Anacostia Community Museum Archives

Alternative Medicine as Portrayed in Valentini's Polychresta Exotica (1700)

2012-02-06T11:00:00.001-05:00

The Latin publication Polychresta Exotica by German physician Michael Bernhard Valentini (1657-1729) was an early attempt to document non-Western medical techniques and medications for a European audience. Remedies from Asia and South America were highlighted by Valentini, including Ipecacuanha (syrup of Ipecac), Pedra del porco (porcupine gallstones), and Clyster Tabacinus (a tabacco-smoke enema).

Shown here is plate VI, which depicts a man being treated with moxibustion, an ancient Chinese herbal therapy. Burning clumps of the dried plant mugwort are placed on or near the skin, at various acupuncture points (shown in the image with letters A-E), as a treatment for circulatory disorders, gout, and other ailments.

From:

Michael Bernhard Valentini's Polychresta Exotica in Curandis Affectibus Contumacissimis Probatissima, published in Frankfurt am Main, Germany, Sumptibus Johannis Davidis Zunneri, 1700.

Call number: RM84 .V16 1701 SCDIRB Dibner Library of the History of Science and Technology

--Diane Shaw, Special Collections Cataloger, Smithsonian Institution Libraries

FABIAN BACHRACH AND THE DUKE

2012-02-03T17:36:00.000-05:00

Fabian Bachrach. Duke Ellington, 1969. Silver gelatin photographic print.

For many years the Archives Center has focused much of its attention on its Scurlock Studio Records collection, especially rehousing, cataloguing, and exhibiting the photographs. The business, begun by Addison N. Scurlock in 1904, was a family enterprise which ended only after Addison’s son Robert died in 1994. As a prominent minority-owned photographic portrait and commercial business in the nation’s capital, the Scurlock Studio is distinctive in many ways. However, its longevity was not unique. There have been many dynasties in the history of photographic portrait studios, and one of the most famous is the Bachrach business founded in Baltimore, Maryland by David Bachrach, Jr. (1845-1921). After more than 140 years of operation (with a network of forty-eight studios at one point), the firm is now based in Boston. Robert Bachrach is the fourth-generation scion and current president of the company, which may be the longest continuously operating photographic studio in the world.

The most famous Bachrach photographer was Louis Fabian Bachrach, Jr. (1917-2010), grandson of the founder of the firm and father of its current president. Known as Fabian Bachrach, he was renowned for photographing celebrities, including an iconic portrait of President John F. Kennedy, as well as portraits of other presidents and world leaders. Among celebrities in the creative arts whom Fabian Bachrach photographed was the legendary composer Duke Ellington—as I discovered only recently. The Archives Center’s vast Duke Ellington Collection contains a variety of resources on Ellington, from original music manuscripts to business and personal papers, memorabilia, etc. There is a large series of photographs, including publicity prints as well as informal snapshots. Many images depict the Ellington orchestra and other musicians, but naturally a large segment portrays the Duke himself, in action at the piano or conducting, or in studio poses.

A few days ago I edited a SIRIS catalogue record for a fine, well-lighted portrait of Ellington, posing with a sheet of music, which had been scanned and catalogued by a volunteer. The volunteer had not recorded the name of a photographer, and I decided to make explicit the fact that the photographer was unidentified. As I typed that assumption into the Horizon record, I wondered if I was jumping to an unwarranted conclusion. As a photographic historian, I am always keenly interested in identifying photographers, an obsession which is not necessarily the primary concern of many archivists. Perhaps there was a signature or imprint on the verso of the print which she had not noticed when she scanned it. I felt that I had to be certain. As we include in our item-level catalogue entries specific box and folder locations for individual items which we scan and catalogue, I quickly located the original photograph. Actually, I couldn’t determine exactly which print had been scanned because there turned out to be five nearly identical warm-toned prints of the image shown here, in which Ellington poses with a sheet of music in a fine, well-lighted portrait. They bore no photographer identification. However, also in the folder were two cold-toned prints from the same negative, each with the imprint of Fabian Bachrach in the bottom right margin and a stamped Fabian Bachrach copyright notice on the verso. Eureka! It was clear that the identified prints on glossy paper were intended for publicity reproduction in newspapers, magazines, and on posters, as this is the standard presentation form. The other five prints, with their delicate warm tonality and more “artsy” matte surfaces, were probably ordered by Ellington for non-publicity purposes, including personal display and gift presentations. I appreciate the fact that these prints were not rubber-stamped on the back, as the inks can sometimes leach through the print and damage it, becoming visible from the front.

I’m pleased to cite another Bachrach portrait among the Archives Center’s photographic holdings. I’m also glad to be able to use this incident as a pointer to the value of traditional archival theory and practice. Individual items in an archival collection, including photographs, usually are not self-sufficient, complete bundles of information by themselves. Additional information of both a specific nature, as in this case, or of a contextual nature, may be found elsewhere in the collection. Some archivists have warned of the risks which may accompany the item-oriented mindset implicit in the digital revolution, that it may potentially undermine the well-established, valued traditions of archival, group-level orientation and methodology, and this is a nice little (if painfully obvious) example. When one of the warm-toned prints was removed from its folder by a staff member for scanning, the Bachrach identification, if it was even noticed, was not passed along to the volunteer doing the scanning, for use in the scan metadata and MARC catalogue record for the object. It wasn’t the volunteer’s job, within her scanning workflow, to check the folder or box for additional information. Nor was it my job, as our unit’s SIRIS editor and coordinator, to second-guess those who had supplied the information. I’m particularly interested in photographer identifications and attributions, so the extra effort was natural for me. But I often wonder, as more and more items from our image collections become available in digitized form to facilitate “research” from remote locations, how much knowledge may be ignored or lost in the absence of direct contact with the real thing—the original object within a historical or archival collections.

David Haberstich, Curator of Photography

Archives Center, National Museum of American History

Crowdsourcing in the Commons

2012-02-02T16:11:00.001-05:00

Mr. Buchanan, c. 1935
Courtesy of SIA

Identifying an image is one of my favorite things to do. Although often challenging, I enjoy trying to decipher going on, when the picture was taken and who was involved. It allows me to use my research skills. You often have to think creatively to come up with some clue that may lead to a proper identification. The problem is, there are many images and only a small amount of time to devote to it.

Last month, the Smithsonian Institution Archives (SIA) placed a series of images on Flickr with the hope that the general public might be able to assist in identifying them. These photographs came from the Ruel P. Tolman Collection (Record Unit 7433). Tolman, director of the Smithsonian National Collection of Fine Arts (now the Smithsonian American Art Museum), collected a series of images of Smithsonian employees, artists, and other government workers. As an artist and amateur photographer, the images capture moments from the 1930s. Some contained useful captions, others had vague information, such as “Cpt. Locke” or “Mr. F. Jackson.” We scanned and loaded the images to Flickr in hopes that viewers would be able to help us identify more about the people in the pictures.

The results were wonderful. Members of the Flickr Commons successfully identify several of the images and provided excellent information to integrate in the Smithsonian’s catalogue entries. What would have taken several days of research, took one day of cross-checking, saving time and finding answers. There are currently several crowdsourcing initiatives across the Smithsonian and other cultural institutions, which create opportunities for the public to become engaged with collection materials and become “citizen“ scientists, cataloguers, and researchers. I was pleasantly surprised by the results of this SIA project. I have often heard the criticism against using “non-experts,” but what I realized is that the kind individuals who volunteer their time to do the research deliver substantial information in return. More importantly, they have an impact on a collection by taking an active role in the Institution’s endeavors.

Not all of the images have been identified, so feel free to join in on the fun!

Courtney Esposito, Institutional History Division, Smithsonian Institution Archives

Smithsonian Snapshots: Larger than Life

2012-01-30T14:17:00.000-05:00

Image from: Richard Kenneth Saker Photographs of Tibet, 1942-1943

This photograph of four beautiful statues of the Buddha was taken in the early 1940's by Richard Kenneth Saker, a British Trade Agent posted to Gyantse, Tibet. To get a sense of the scale of these statues, look for the photographer's lighting assistant in the lower right corner. We don't have much detailed information about Saker's photographs and film; if you know where this one was taken, let us know in the comments!

Karma Foley, Human Studies Film Archives

The People of India - The Bhats

2012-01-26T08:00:00.002-05:00

The Bhats

The Bhats are an especially interesting tribe. Unlike most, they didn’t occupy a single ancestral homeland, or even several. Instead, they wandered throughout the country, as the Indian equivalent of minstrels and bards. Among the bard Bhats there are two categories: the Birru-bhats and Jaga-bhats. The former were hired out occasionally to sing at festivals and family ceremonies, while the latter served a single family for generations, and function as its historians, visiting the members from time to time to record significant events. However, the most interesting aspect of Bhat culture is this: “Among all the classes and tribes in which the crime of dacoity is followed as an hereditary profession, there is none whose proceedings are characterized by such boldness and skill as the Bhats.” It seems that, in addition to the true minstrel Bhats, a separate clan of Bhat dacoits existed, claiming the same ancestry as their nonviolent counterparts, and using musical recitation as a front to tactfully conceal their real profession. The modus operandi of these sinister Bhats is both chilling and fascinating. Their crimes were nearly always directed towards wealthy bankers and sahukars. Because most Bhats had no permanent residence, bands would travel from town to town, posing as musicians, while their most seasoned members ascertained the location of potential victims. Then, after a target is selected, the Bhats would proceed to make camp some 50 or 100 miles away, and then assemble near the site of their attack. The attack itself always took place at twilight, as a matter of tradition. The doors would be broken down, the house stormed, and any resistors brutally killed without hesitation. Upon raiding the home of its valuables, the gang would retreat from town to their camp, where the spoils would be divided. It should be said that, although barbaric and cruel, the dacoit Bhats never killed indiscriminately; only resistance warranted deadly violence. By the time POI was published, these bandit Bhats were almost entirely extinct, the remnants driven into hiding the by arrest, execution, or deportation of their fellows. Still, they are a morbidly romantic part of India’s tribal history. One might say they were to the subcontinent as the legendary highwaymen were to Victorian England: morally bankrupt, yet roguishly endearing.

To see all text and images of the Bhats as they are represented in the People of India, go to our catalog in the Collections Search Center.

The People of India series will be published once a month highlighting the various tribes as they're covered in the People of India.

Cal Berer, Intern

Freer|Sackler Archives

House Hunting

2012-01-25T10:00:00.000-05:00

The Gleason Garden, circa 1960-1967.

A view of the patio with outdoor furniture and a grill.

Photograph by Molly Adams.

The Gleason Garden, circa 1960-1967.

Looking from the patio towards the house.

Photograph by Molly Adams.

There is a whole host of romantic verbs to describe the historian’s process: hunting, digging, seeking, unearthing, recovering, uncovering. However, most historians are not out in the field digging up buried treasure, but buried up to their noses in stacks of books and folders of documents in libraries and archives with bad florescent lighting. Not all historical mysteries are as elusive or exotic as the search for Atlantis or the true identity of Shakespeare—but that doesn’t mean the smaller mysteries hold any less appeal.

The moment I came across images of an unidentified house and garden while perusing the Maida Babson Adams Collection at the Archives of American Gardens, I knew I had to find out more about the cozy, modern home. Perhaps it was the way Molly (Maida Babson) Adams had photographed the home to emphasize the contrast between the horizontal lines of the house and the organic shapes of the garden, or perhaps it was the inviting butterfly chairs on the patio, but I was intrigued. Nothing was written on the back of the photograph except “Gleason.” The only revealing cataloging information was that the garden was designed by landscape architect Nelva Weber; it was anonymously featured in her 1976 book How to Plan Your Own Home Landscape. I continued to wonder about the house. Who lived there? What was their idea of home?

Over the next few months I spent a few minutes each day searching for the house. Molly Adams was a prolific garden photographer, shooting gardens in the Northeast from the 1960s through the 1980s for magazines such as Flower Grower and Popular Gardening & Living Outdoors. Flipping through my mental rolodex of mid-century architects, my first thought was that the home may have been designed by Joseph Eichler or Carl Koch, both prolific mid-century architects who designed small, modern homes for suburban families. Geographically it seemed most likely that the house was located in Massachusetts, New Jersey, or Connecticut. That meant Eichler, builder of mass-produced homes in California, was out. In the beginning I spent an embarrassing amount of time Googling “Molly Adams Gleason,” “Gleason modern house,” Gleason modern garden,” “Gleason Connecticut modern,” “Nelva Weber modern,” etc. Clearly, this was going to be a long search.

Back to the drawing board, and failed by modern tools, I turned to books. Home design books and traveling museum shows like the Museum of Modern Art’s “Good Design” exhibits were key to disseminating new ideas about suburban living to a design-conscious middle-class. I checked out a multitude of 1950s home design books from the library, including John Hancock Callender’s 1953 book Before You Buy a House. The book was of interest to me because it included a house by Hugh Stubbins, who was on my list of potential architects. And there it was, staring right back at me on page 113. The house was not designed by Hugh Stubbins, but by the architectural firm Nemeny & Geller. Designed for a rolling, wooded site in Morristown, New Jersey, the house in the book was part of the then-new Robert Morris Park development.

Nemeny & Geller created a basic house plan to be used throughout the development that could be varied through the addition of a garage or different paint colors, yet still present a unified front. A garden design by Nelva Weber surely further distinguished the Gleason house from the rows of similar houses in the neighborhood. Robert Morris Park was a stepping stone between owning one of the “little boxes made of ticky tacky” (from the 1962 Malvina Reynolds song) and paying a well-known architect to build a custom home. Originally 305 houses were planned, but only a small percentage of them were ever built. A quick Google search confirmed that there was a Gleason living in Morristown, and a Google street view search revealed the house itself. It took hours of searching for the right book to divulge the identity of the garden, but only minutes on the internet to confirm its identity.

As with most archives, a number of images in the Archives of American Gardens came to the archives without documentation. The research efforts of museum specialists and volunteers have saved many gardens in the collection from anonymity. Are you interested in digging into a garden mystery? Learn more about AAG’s Mystery Gardens Initiative and how you can contribute to preserving America’s garden heritage.

-Kate Fox

Kate Fox is a guest blogger who is currently working on an upcoming SITES exhibition for the Archives of American Gardens at Smithsonian Gardens

Come in from the Cold: Warming up with Monitor Records

2012-01-20T18:29:00.000-05:00

If you were to wander into the dimly lit Russian cafe in lower Manhattan called the Two Guitars on almost any evening you would find Sasha Polinoff entertaining the guests...Sasha sets the Slavic mood for the vodka, caviar, and the Kiev cutlets. (MFS 432)

Monitor Records, founded in 1956 by Michael Stillman and Rose Rubin in New York City, issued over 250 recordings of music from around the world. An artifact of the period's interest in "exotic" records, the recordings were appealing to people for the same reason I find them fascinating today: they project a sense of another place. Sometimes these places aren't "real"--much of the music on Monitor was licensed from state-sponsored record labels in the then-Soviet Union and the Eastern Bloc. Sometimes they are--as is the case for the recordings made in venues in New York City. But from the covers to the liner notes to the music itself, the albums are transporting.

The Monitor albums I'm feeling drawn to these days all mention cafes and nightlife and warmth, and make me want to bundle up and find a little place where the food is filling, the drinks flowing, and the music wistful (wistful for what? I'm not sure, but when music makes you feel like you're somewhere else, it kind of feels like that place is lost to you at the same time). If you feel like that too, here are my picks for getting cafe-cozy, accompanied by excerpts from the liner notes.

Russian Cabaret: The Balalaika of Sasha Polinoff (MFS 432)

"Put the record on your turntable, dim the lights, pick up your vodka drink and relax--it's Sasha time!"

The Feenjon Group

Belly Dancing at the Cafe Feenjon, (MFS 497)

"The Feenjon Group can be heard nightly at the Cafe Feenjon...a mecca for lovers of Israeli, Greek, Arabic, Turkish and Amenian song and dance. Many notables of the entertainment world, too, attracted by the informal atmosphere and musical excitement of the Cafe, have become late-late habitues and frequently participate in the performances."

Liane

Vienna by Night (MP 510)

"A songstress with haunting appeal she evokes the intimacy and charm of the small Viennese cafes."

Bela Babai and his Fiery Gypsies

An Evening at the Chardas (MFS 700)

"Bela Babai...can be heard nightly at New Yorks Chardas where lovers of Gypsy music and fine Hungarian cuisine meet. Wherever Bela Babai appears the musical greats come to hear..."

-Cecilia Peterson, Ralph Rinzler Folklife Archives and Collections

The Donald A. Cadzow Photograph Collection

2012-01-13T18:10:00.002-05:00

Kainah (Blood) man, 1882 (P01531)

The Donald A. Cadzow photograph collection documents numerous indigenous cultures across North America, Canada, and Alaska through the various expeditions and archeological excavations he conducted for the Museum of the American Indian, Heye Foundation from 1916 until 1927.

The son of Hugh and Nellie Cadzow, Donald was born in Auburn, New York in 1894. In 1911, at the age of 17, he traveled to the far Canadian Northwest to live with his uncle Daniel Cadzow at the Rampart House, a Hudson Bay Company trading post on the Alaska-Yukon boundary line. After five years there, Cadzow returned to the United States. He began working for George Gustav Heye in the fall of 1916, but enlisted as seaman in the U.S.N.R.F. on January 20, 1918, only to be released from service on December 22 that same year. He returned to work for Heye at the Museum of the American Indian, Heye Foundation on January 1, 1919, and worked there until 1928.

Young Assiniboin (Stoney) woman, 1926 (N11750)

Between 1917 and 1919, Cadzow, collected artifacts and archaeological materials from the Copper and Kogmollok Eskimo, the Loucheux, Slavey, and Woodland Cree of Alberta, Canada. In 1919, Cadzow assisted Alanson Skinner on an archeological excavation in Cayuga County, New York. Cadzow next worked with Mark Harrington: excavating a site on Staten Island, New York in 1920; on the Hawikku expedition to study Zuni Indian culture in McKinley County, New Mexico in 1921; and to Arkansas and Missouri in 1922. In 1924 and 1925 he conducted an expedition to a prehistoric Algonkian burial site on Frontenac Island, Cayuga Lake, in New York; traveled to the Bungi tribe in Portage la Prairie, Manitoba, and the Prairie Cree in Saskatchewan, Canada. He continued this work in 1926 again visiting the Prairie Cree and also the Bush Cree in Saskatchewan, the Assiniboin in Saskatchewan and Alberta; the Iroquois and the Northern Piegan (Blackfoot) in Alberta. In 1927, the last year that Cadzow worked for Heye, he assisted George P. Putnam on an expedition to Baffin Island and the Hudson Bay district to visit the Sikosuilarmiut, Akuliarmiut, and Quaumauangmiut Eskimos.

Pokiak (Inuvialuit Inupiaq), 1917-1919 (N02023)

After his work at MAI, in 1928 he took a job in the Bond Department of Lage & Co., a brokerage company in New York City. He was later state archeologist for the Pennsylvania Historical Commission from ca. 1929-39; and executive secretary from 1939-45. He was also treasurer of the Eastern States Archeological Federation from 1940-42. In 1945 he was named executive director of the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission and held the position until 1956. He died on February 9, 1960, in Pennsylvania. During his career Cadzow gave a number of lectures and radio talk programs, and published extensively in Indian Notes (a publication of Museum of the American Indian, Heye Foundation), for the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission, in a variety of publications, and several books.

See more of Cadzow's photographs, as well as objects he collected for the museum here.

~Jennifer R. O'Neal, Head Archivist, NMAI Archive Center

Indentures of Apprenticeship from Early Nineteenth Century New York City

2012-01-13T15:27:00.000-05:00

The Dibner Library of the History of Science and Technology in Washington, D.C. has a manuscripts collection with an amazing variety of documents. One box from the collection contains over 140 contracts of indenture (partially printed, and partially handwritten) from the Commissioners of the Alms-House and Bridewell, New York City, created between the years 1821 and 1823. These contracts record the apprenticeships of poor and abandoned children who were assigned to learn various trades under the supervision of established business owners. In return for room and board and a basic education, the indentured workers were supposed to provide several years of labor for their employers before being released from their contracts. Providing a grim window into both the diversity of trades and the depths of poverty in the growing city of New York, these indentures were a pragmatic measure taken by the government for the support of children who lacked parents or guardians. Here are two examples of these historic documents.

The first indenture, shown to the left, is for 14-year-old Henry Valentine, apprenticed to John Cochran, a "Mahogany Chair and Sopha [i.e. Sofa] Maker."

The second indenture, seen below, is for 14-year-old Clark Martin, apprenticed to John H. Metzler, a shoemaker. Both indentures are signed by the apprentice, the tradesman to whom the boy was assigned, and the government agent (John Hunter) who drew up the contract.

At the end of the indenture period, each boy was to be released from his apprenticeship with "a new suit of clothing in addition to his old, and a new Bible." And, if all went well, the young men would be able to go forth and establish their own businesses, benefitting from the hard years in service that they spent learning their trades. But not all situations necessarily turned out as planned; the contracts could be cancelled for a variety of reasons. The contract for Clark Martin, above, has a note written along the left side of the page that the agreement was "cancelled by consent of justice, Decem. 24th, 1825," with no further details.

More information on contracts of indenture from the city of New York can be found on the New-York Historical Society website, where a larger collection of these contracts is located.

New York (N.Y.). Alms-House and Bridewell Commission. Indentures of Apprenticeship, 1821-1823. Call number: MSS 001624 B SCDIRB Dibner Library

--Diane Shaw, Special Collections Cataloger, Smithsonian Institution Libraries

Sydel Silverman: Preserving the Anthropological Record

2012-01-10T10:30:00.000-05:00

The National Anthropological Archives recently acquired the papers of Sydel Silverman, an anthropologist known for her work as a researcher, writer, academic administrator, and foundation executive. After receiving her PhD from Columbia University in 1963, she taught at Queens College in New York (1962-75) and became Executive Officer of the CUNY PhD Program in Anthropology (1975-86). She later served as president of the Wenner-Gren Foundation from 1987-1999.

While at the Wenner-Gren Foundation, Silverman’s interest in the history of anthropology led her to become heavily involved in an effort to preserve anthropological records. In 1991, along with Dr. Nancy Parezo, she began planning a conference that would deal with the preservation of anthropology’s historical record. The conference, called "Preserving the Anthropological Record: Issues and Strategies," was held in spring 1992. Anthropologists, archaeologists, archivists, librarians, museum specialists, and potential funders met to identify the issues associated with preserving anthropological records. The conference attendees discussed the issues of records creation and use, ethical concerns, and the necessity of educating stakeholders.

In "Preserving the Anthropological Record," an article written about the conference for the February 1993 issue of Current Anthropology, Silverman described the Resolution on Preserving Anthropological Records that the conference adopted. The Resolution stated that "anthropologists have a professional responsibility to serve as stewards" of their "unpublished anthropological materials" because they are "irreplaceable" and "unique resources" that are "essential for future research and education." Anthropological records contain cultural information that is valuable to many different parties: the anthropologist who gathered the data, the informants who supplied the anthropologist with that data, other members of the informants’ community, or those who wish to study that community.

Silverman Papers, Box 16, folder "Siena Notebooks [4 of 5]"
Silverman unpublished notebook, cover

Notes on Palio of Siena (a festival) Siena, Italy, 1980

Papers from the conference were published in a volume entitled Preserving the Anthropological Record, co-edited by Silverman and Parezo. This publication described why anthropological records should be kept, the roles and responsibilities of various stakeholders, preservation issues, guidelines and strategies. In the book’s Introduction, Silverman expressed the core concern of the conference members: "For anthropology, the unpublished records of the past are of more than historical interest…They constitute the primary data of all research—data that are unique and unrecoverable." Silverman and the rest of the conference participants recognized that much of the anthropological record consisted of grey literature—field notes, interviews, data sets, and more—that could be of great value to future researchers.

In May 1993, a second Wenner-Gren conference, "Preserving the Anthropological Record II: Toward a Disciplinary Center," was held to define an action plan. This conference led to the creation of CoPAR, the Council for the Preservation of Anthropological Records. According to the statement on its homepage, CoPAR "sponsors programs that foster awareness of the importance of preserving anthropological records; provides consulting and technical support to archival repositories; provides information on records location and access; and fosters collaboration between archivists responsible for anthropological collections and tribal archivists." For more information on CoPAR, and Sydel Silverman’s involvement in the movement to preserve anthropological records, visit the National Anthropological Archives website http://www.nmnh.si.edu/naa/.

Sydel Silver Papers, Box 29, folder "April 1995, Reno, NV COPAR"
Silverman is third from right in the front row

Christy Fic, Contract Processing Archivist
National Anthropological Archives

RESEARCHER FINDS PAIN AND RELIEF IN THE ARCHIVES CENTER

2012-01-04T15:00:00.000-05:00

The Sterling Drug Company papers are held at the Smithsonian’s off-site facility, which turns out to be a great thing: you get to go right into the “stacks” because there’s no public reading room, and that means walking by noncommissioned items from the Museum of Natural History—it seemed like every time I went I noticed a new rhinoceros or whale peeking out from behind a tarpaulin. I felt a little guilty because one of the archivists had to commute out to the facility every day and work at a makeshift table in the stacks next to me, but she was cheerful good company and kept insisting that she didn’t mind.

Talwin advertisement, 1965

Sterling, a voracious grow-through-acquisitions drug company, ended up selling some of the early 20^th century’s most important medicines: aspirin; the sulfa drugs; neosalvarsan (the famed “magic bullet” for syphilis); the first barbiturate sedatives Veronal and Luminal; the first synthetic narcotic Demerol; and many more. The most significant of these drugs came into Sterling’s possession during the World Wars, when the U.S. government confiscated the patents and sometimes even factories of German pharmaceutical houses and gave or auctioned them off to American companies.

Talwin advertisement, 1969

One particularly fascinating drug saga I tracked through the archive was the rise and fall of a narcotic (pain reliever) named Talwin. Talwin debuted with much ballyhoo in 1967 as the first non-addictive narcotic—a holy grail of sorts for pharmaceuticals, and a discovery preceded by decades of dashed dreams. Sterling’s ads weren’t shy about the new miracle drug, as these examples show; note how they remind readers, repeatedly, that the drug requires no special narcotics licenses or prescription triplicates. Eventually, however, the occasional instances of abuse, dependence, and addiction grew into a genuine public health problem in Chicago and a few other cities by the late 1970s. Turned out that the drug by itself was barely addictive, but, if crushed up with a common antihistamine (Pyribenzamine) and injected, it was a passable substitute for heroin—something addicts were much desirous of in the late 1970s when heroin prices had risen. Eventually Talwin was put on the Schedule of Controlled Substances after all. (For more details on the Talwin story, see http://pointsadhsblog.wordpress.com/2011/11/21/forgotten-drugs-of-abuse-part-1-ts-and-blues/)

Talwin advertisement, 1969

Talwin advertisement, 1972

The Sterling collection has plenty of interesting material, all of which is closely and, for the most part, accurately described in a 400+ page finding aid. Record Group 1, which I only peeked at, contains actual samples of Sterling Drug packaging, labels, products, &etc. I spent most of my time in Record Groups 2 and 3, which contain marketing materials: medical journal advertisements (of course), and a wide range of mailings to physicians, from research-heavy booklets to lighthearted Madison Avenue gimmickry.

Record Group 4 includes material about the company, and there’s a little something for everyone: for business historians there are many, many in-house newsletters from various aspects of the company (the factory, the sales force, etc.), which detail company life and corporate culture over the century. The annual reports to stock holders give a financial overview. Clipping files collect news coverage of the company. Unfortunately there is nothing on corporate decision making, policy discussions, and the like.

Overall, however, there is much here of value to historians of pharmaceuticals, of the pharmaceutical industry, and of advertising.

David Herzberg

Associate Professor

History Department

546 Park Hall

University at Buffalo (SUNY)

Buffalo, NY 14260

http://www.acsu.buffalo.edu/~herzberg

Blog editor's note: We're very pleased to present this unsolicited report from Prof. Herzberg. The "cheerful" archivist mentioned in his first paragraph was an Archives Center stalwart, Cathy Keen.

Freer for All

2012-01-03T14:45:00.000-05:00

Charles Lang Freer, c. 1916
Smithsonian Institution Archives

Today, January 3, marks the 106th anniversary of Charles Lang Freer tremendous gift to the American public. On this day in 1905, Freer, a wealthy railroad car manufacturer, offered to donate his vast art collection of artworks from American, Chinese, Japanese, Indian and Near East artists to the Smithsonian. Freer’s collection consisted of over 2,250 objects, including James McNeill Whistler’s Peacock Room. In addition to his collections, Freer also offered $500,000 to build a museum to house the art and an endowment to care for works.

Though the Smithsonian was initially reluctant to agree to Freer’s gift, with help from President Theodore Roosevelt, the Smithsonian Board of Regents and US Congress formally accepted Freer’s gift on May 5, 1906. Freer’s main motive for sharing his collection was to make it available for the public and for scholars. As such, Freer’s will stated that only objects in his personal permanent collection could be exhibited in the Freer Gallery and that pieces of his collection could not be displayed elsewhere.

Whistler's Peacock Room, c. 1930
Smithsonian Institution Archives

The Freer Gallery of Art opened May 2, 1923. Within its first month of operation 32, 648 people visited the new museum. Freer’s vision of sharing his collections with the public has grown into reality over the years. The Gallery’s wonderful exhibits and website have broadened access to the museum’s collections. Additionally, the Smithsonian’s Collection Search Center connects collections across the Institution, allowing visitors to research about Freer and his artworks in more inclusive forum.

Courtney Esposito, Institutional History Division, Smithsonian Institution Archives

Samarra 1911: The End of a Campaign

2011-12-30T08:00:00.016-05:00

As taken from Thomas Leisten's book Excavation of Samarra, Volume 1 Architecture. Final Report of the First Campaign, 1910-1912:

*Image Left: Excavation of Sāmarrā (Iraq): Qaṣr al-Āshiq, View of Barrel-Vaulted Serdab from Above, 1911-1913 [graphic]. The Ernst Herzfeld papers. Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Gallery Archives. Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.

On December 3rd, after a long meeting, both [Friedrich] Sarre and Herzfeld decided to end the current campaign as soon as possible and to return in the following year. This decision changed the original plan, which had included a continuation of the campaign and a series of new excavations after Sarre's arrival. Various reasons can be suggested to explain why the first campaign was broken off prematurely: for on thing, Herzfeld needed some time off to prepare the excavation of the Dar al-Khilafa, the main project for next year. Furthermore, he recognized the necessity of reviewing the material recovered so far, to eliminate mistakes and to identify problems that could be dealt with during another visit to the site. Sarre and Herzfeld also agreed that the attempt the transport the stuccos would fail and thus jeopardize both the continuation of the first campaign and their chance at a second. The fragments temporarily stores in the excavation house were not yet in a condition to be transported, and there were no suitable materials in Iraq to produce sturdy and solid frames. Bartus had even stopped casting copies from stuccos that could not be removed because he lacked fine gypsum and glue, both of which had to be imported from Germany. Last but not least was Herzfeld's health, which had been constantly deteriorating under the pressure of exhausting work, quarrels with the authorities, and the full responsibility for the success of the project at Samarra.

According to Herzfeld and Sarre, the transportation of casts and originals to Germany had to wait until after the excavations were completely finished. But while an entirely new schedule of the whole project would undoubtedly have caused some trouble, the new plan was to confront Constantinople, i.e. the Directorate of the Imperial Ottoman Museums, with the fait accompli. Herzfeld therefore contacted Bedri Bey, whose role in this scheme would be either to convince the Director General, Halil Edhem Bey, to call a temporary halt to the campaign or, even better, to give the official order himself to the Germans to stop the current campaign and inform Constantinople of what had happened only afterward. Sarre, Herzfeld, and Bedri Bey came to the conclusion that it would be safer to follow the latter plan.

During the first week of December 1911, Herzfeld was still working on the western bank. He finished the leveling of Qasr al-Ashiq and made some test soundings within the palace to clear doors and to determine the extent of the main T-shaped hall. At the same time he had another clearing made on the riverbank below the palace. Pottery and debris there indicated large settlement connected with the palace. Subsequent to the final investigation at the Qasr al-Ashiq he conducted a reexamination of the central domed chamber of the Qabbat al-Sulaibiyya. Here, three burials were brought to light that he immediately interpreted as three of the 9th century A.D. caliphs of Samarra.

*Image Right: Excavation of Sāmarrā (Iraq): Unglazed Ceramic Vessel, Found in the Qaṣr al-Āshiq, 1911-1913 [graphic]. The Ernst Herzfeld papers. Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Gallery Archives. Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.

Only now, during the last two weeks of the first campaign in Samarra, were Viollet's finds examined. On the last day before he left on the "Astarabadi" steamer, Bartus by chance found a building on the wet side of the Shari al-A'zam that had been scavenged by the locals. The walls were covered with a set of frescoes showing human figures and various animals, the most interesting so far discovered in this campaign. On December 20th an excursion was made to al-Istabulat where Herzfeld sketched out a rough plan of the palace. [...]

On December 25th, Bedri Bey arrived at Samarra and drew up an official letter ending the campaign according to the proposal of both Sarre and Herzfeld. An inventory of all the finds and tools was made and they were prepared for storage.

*Image Above: Excavation of Sāmarrā (Iraq): Fragments of Ceramic Vessels with Decorative Motifs, Found in the Qaṣr al-Āshiq and in al-Quraina, House VI, West Room, 1911-1913 [graphic]. The Ernst Herzfeld papers. Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Gallery Archives. Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.

From the Samarra-Archiv Pergamon Museum, Berlin; Ernst Herzfeld's incomplete report on the first campaign:

Considering the vast extent of the ruins, an excavation of Samarra would create a task that could not be brought to an end even within decades of work. But each excavation is an individual case. The different interests by which the site is approached and the local conditions determine the dimension and method of investigation. The latter are quite different when it comes to excavation on Islamic soil in comparison to Babylonian ruins. For my part, the issues of the first campaign appear to have been investigated sufficiently: the excavation in the mosque could be abandoned as soon as the problem with its pier system was solved; the same was true for the exavation of residential buildings as soon as it became clear that the classes of decorative patterns could not be augmented by new groups. The excavation of Balkuwara could be stopped as soon [as] the character of the structure became tangible.

As a task for the second campaign we have two other topics: to investigate the Bayt al-Khalifah, the ancient Djausaq al-Khaqani, the main palace of Samarra, founded by Mu'tasim, which remained the residence of the caliphs until the last days of Samarra. This palace is larger, richer, and more beautiful than any other ruin of Samarra. Based on previous soundings in the right places could reveal more wall paintings, ceramics, and small finds. Sketches of other ruins could be produced - some of them have been made already - that render the types of such structures more clearly.

The second, very work intensive but attractive topic is a meticulous topographic plan of the complete ruin. Its surface is of such quality that - perhaps with the exception of the immediate surroundings of today's city - the course of avenues, narrow streets, and even single hourses can be traced clearly. In addition to this we have in the work of Ya'qubi an ancient, veritable Baedeker of Samarra. The old chronicles recorded the dramatic events that happened in Samarra with so many topographical and cultural details that - if we only had an accurate plan of the ruin fields - we would be enabled to recreate the picture o the history and culture of this distant past with the liveliness that would not be matched anywhere else, and certainly not in the Islamic world.

Ernst Herzfeld (1879-1948)

Samarra 1911: Squeeze Making and Continued Resistance in Herzfeld's Samarra
Samarra 1911: The Life of an Alleged Spy: Guns, Kissing, and the Excavation of Balkuwara
Samarra 1911: Excavation of Shabbat al-Hawa, Qasr al-Ashiq, and Qubbat al-Sulaibiyya
Samarra 1911: Clashes with Authority led to Sabotage
Samarra 1911: Excavation of the Great Mosque Finishes, al-Quraina Begins

100th Anniversary of the Samarra Excavation by Ernst Herzfeld

Samarra Resource page.

Rachael Cristine Woody
Freer|Sackler Archives

The People of India - The Khas

2011-12-29T09:56:00.007-05:00

The Khas

While the Bhurs were swept away by the torrential series of Muslim invasions, these very same endeavors strengthened the Khas. Indigenous to Central Asia, they settled in Nepal long before the British, or the Muslims, arrived in India. In the 12th century, the invasions pushed Hindu Brahmins out of their homelands in the plains, and sent them fleeing into the Himalayan foothills. There, they sought to convert the native populations, and did so with considerable success. By offering new converts status as members of the Khastriya order, the Brahmins were able to attract countless tribesmen, thus creating the Khas tribe. The Khas, fiercely loyal to the religion that favored them so, set about conquering neighboring tribes, until they were the dominant power throughout Nepal. The People of India asserts that they “gradually merged the greater part of their own habits, ideas, and language, but not physiognomy, with those of the Hindoos and the Khas language became a corrupt dialect of Hindi.” Their influence remained mighty and singular throughout the region, until 1816, when the British encroached upon their lands. The last king of the Khas was called Tirot Sing, and he led his people against the British in the Khasi-Anglo War, which lasted from 1829 to 1835. The conflict was the result of a territorial dispute between neighboring tribes, the British governor-general of North India, and the Khas, who attacked a British garrison on April 2nd, 1829, after the British failed to honor an agreement regarding the return of traditional Khas lands. Vastly outnumbered, and possessing inferior weaponry, the Khas soon resorted to guerrilla warfare, which finally ended in 1835, when Sing was captured by the British, and deported to a prison in modern day Bangladesh, where he died within a few months. The rest of the tribe was left largely intact, and became a valuable asset to the British military, until Independence. Currently, the vast majority of Khas descendents (numbering about 1.3 million) live in Meghalaya, an Indian state north of Bangladesh and south of Assam.

To see all text and images of the Khas as they are represented in the People of India, go to our catalog in the Collections Search Center.

The People of India series will be published once a month highlighting the various tribes as they're covered in the People of India.

Cal Berer, Intern

Freer|Sackler Archives

A Topiary Zoo

2011-12-27T10:00:00.002-05:00

Edward Scissorhands (played by Johnny Depp) creating topiaries

Photo credit: Twentieth Century Fox

Director Tim Burton’s film Edward Scissorhands may have popularized the art of topiary for the masses, but the art has been around for a very long time. Derived from the Greek word “topos” meaning place, and the Latin word “topiarius” which was used to signify an ornamental gardener, topiary may stretch back as far as 60 A.D. The “training or pruning of plant material into unnatural, geometric, or fantastic shapes” has been well known in Britain since the Middle Ages and became quite fashionable in formal gardens.

“William the lion” in winter at Topiary Fancies in

Connecticut with mane and tail

made of Carex “Evergold,” Nanette Burrows, photographer

In 1719 Alexander Pope wrote a very critical and satiric essay on the practice, stating that topiary was a “monument to perverted taste” and mocking the women who wanted “their own effigies in myrtle, or their husband’s in hornbeam.” Topiaries nearly vanished from the gardens of the aristocracy, but the tradition continued in smaller cottage gardens and topiaries eventually made their way to the United States.

Chickens at Newington in Pennsylvania, created using

wire frames and ivy, Diane Viall, photographer

Topiaries exist in all shapes and forms in the United States and are comprised of different plant materials. Boxwood is commonly used in the south while yew, spruce, and ilex are generally found in cooler climates. Before the advent of wire frames which are used to shape and direct the growth of the plant, gardeners had to rely on patience and constant pruning to achieve the desired shape. While all topiaries are interesting additions to a garden, larger-than-life animal topiary creations are particularly whimsical elements, despite what Alexander Pope may have thought about them.

Giraffe at Green Animals in Rhode Island,
unknown photographer

Some of the oldest animal topiaries in the United States can be found at Green Animals in Portsmouth, Rhode Island. These exquisite pieces created from California privet were sculpted by Jose N. Carreiro, the original gardener of the estate who “liked to clip” and was given creative freedom. On the seven-acre estate he created 80 pieces of topiary, a mix of geometric shapes and animals including an ostrich, a giraffe, a camel, and even a unicorn. When the estate was passed on to Alice Brayton from her father, she gave it the fitting name of ‘Green Animals’ in honor of all of Carreiro’s creations. Now cared for by The Preservation Society of Newport County, all of Green Animals’ beloved occupants are still painstakingly maintained.

Eleanor the Elephant at Bentley Garden in Arizona,
Nancy Swanson, photographer

Topiary animals are popular in private gardens as well. At Bentley Garden in Arizona, several topiary animals serve both a decorative and utilitarian purpose—the latter as a barrier between the house and the road. Citrus aurantium bushes were transformed into Eleanor the Elephant and Clyde the Camel. The owner cited a visit to Peter the Great’s Summer Palace in Russia as the inspiration for these unique topiaries. Joining Eleanor and Clyde are Fernando ze Bool, Berenstein Bear, Helen and Jill Javelina, and Petunia and Philip the Pigs, all made from oleander bushes.

View more topiary animals, shapes, and designs in the Collections Search Center.

The images above are from the Garden Club of America Collection at the Archives of American Gardens.

Kayla Burns, Intern

Archives of American Gardens
Smithsonian Gardens

Peace on Earth

2011-12-23T11:06:00.000-05:00

Participants at the start of the Poor People's March in Marks, Mississippi, 1968. Photograph by Diana Davies.

Take care of each other out there. Happy Holidays from the Ralph Rinzler Archives and Collections, we'll see you next year!

View more photographs and collection information:

Diana Davies Photographs, 1963-2004

-Cecilia Peterson, Ralph Rinzler Folklife Archives and Collections

Christmas Greetings in "Charlestonese"

2011-12-20T08:00:00.001-05:00

In the spirit of the holiday season, I would like to highlight a vintage Christmas greeting card in the Anacostia Community Museum Archives. Greeting cards are sent to family and friends for the emotion they express, to convey gratitude, or to note special events in our lives. Greeting cards card can also evoke memories of a special time or experience in our lives that we shared with our family, as in the case of the recently donated greeting card.

After reading about the Anacostia Community Museum’s recent exhibition on Lorenzo Dow Turner and his groundbreaking research on the Gullah dialect in her local Charleston, South Carolina, newspaper, the donor recalled a box of old Christmas greeting cards in her possession spoofing a dialect called “Charlestonese.”

Front view of Christmas card, n.d.

The cards belonged to her grandmother who was born in Walterboro, South Carolina, about 1936. The front of the card reads “Christmas Greetings in ‘Charlestonese’ . . . Language of the Lowcountry.” The inside includes a greeting in “Charelestonese” and a dictionary of “Charelestonese” words and their meanings. On the back of the card is the translation of the greeting card in Standard English.

"Charlestonese" greeting inside of card.

The donor wondered about the origins and purpose of the greeting cards. “Perhaps these cards were printed as a spoof of ‘Gullah’ by local white people calling the language ‘Charlestonese,’” she assumes. She believes her grandmother probably found the cards humorous and decided to purchase them but never used them since the family is Jewish.

Dictionary of "Charlestonese" words and their meanings also located inside card.

We are unable to confirm whether the cards were created to mock the language of Gullah people or were just a spoof of a local vernacular spoken by both blacks and whites. However, we do know that the speech patterns of the Gullah were dismissed as “baby talk” or simply “bad English” by some scholars before the research of Lorenzo Dow Turner established Gullah as a Creole language.

On the backside of the card is the translation of the "Charlestonese" greeting.

As an archivist, what I find most fascinating about this Christmas card is its power to evoke fond recollections of two distinct languages that the donor heard while growing up: the Gullah of her grandparents’ domestic help and the Yiddish of her paternal grandparents. During this holiday season how wonderful it is to know that a slightly humorous Christmas card can spark memories of other cultures and languages, all now part of the American experience.

Happy Holidays to All!

Jennifer Morris
Archivist
Anacostia Community Museum Archives

"I Am Your Most Humble Servant, Is. Newton"

2011-12-16T12:00:00.001-05:00

Portrait of Newton
engraved by James MacArdell
from a painting by
Enoch Seeman

Sir Isaac Newton (1642-1727) was one of the most remarkable figures in the history of science and mathematics. His Principia (first published in Latin as the Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Mathematica in 1687) established the principle of universal gravitation and outlined the mathematical basis for the laws of motion. The Dibner Library of the History of Science and Technology, one of the rare book collections of the Smithsonian Institution Libraries, has a number of early publications by Newton, as well as several manuscripts written in his own hand. Shown here is the reply that the economically-minded Newton scrawled on the back of a letter that had been sent to him in 1687 by Gilbert Clerke, a Cambridge mathematician who had written to Newton asking for clarification on some of the points in the Principia. Newton's reply begins at the bottom of the column on the left side and continues down the right-hand side:

Dibner MSS 001008 B

S[i]r, I do not wonder that in reading a hard book you meet with some scruples & hope that the removal of those you propound may help you to understand it more easily ... I thank you for signifying your doubts to me in these things because they might have proved my mistakes. If there be any thing else you think material for me to know or stick much at in reading my book, pray do me the favour of another letter, or two. I am your most humble servant, Is. Newton.

This week, Cambridge University Library has launched its digital collection of Newton materials. Two multi-institutional collaborative websites that make reference to the Dibner Library's collection of Newton material include The Chymistry of Isaac Newton, an Indiana University-Bloomington project which focuses on Newton's alchemical writings, and The Newton Project, hosted by the University of Sussex. You can search the Smithsonian's Collections Search Center to see other works related to Newton that are owned by the Smithsonian Institution Libraries.

Clerke, Gilbert, 1626-1697? Correspondence [manuscript], 1687. (The letter shown is dated 26 Sept. 1687).
MSS 001008 B SCDIRB Dibner Library

--Diane Shaw, Special Collections Cataloger, Smithsonian Libraries, with assistance from Kirsten van der Veen, Technician, Dibner Library

Season's Greetings from the National Anthropological Archives!!!

2011-12-15T11:50:00.000-05:00

Acee Blue Eagle papers, 08778100n

The holidays are a great time to connect or even re-connect with family and friends. If getting together in person isn't always possible, a card can be a simple way to send best wishes for a new season and new year. Well, simple if you actually get those cards signed, sealed, stamped and to the post office. Staring at an unopened box with a 50% off sticker from the after-season sale when you decided you would finally become one of those people who sends out holiday cards, just isn’t as effective.

Whichever category you find yourself in, I hope you enjoy this selection of greeting cards from the papers of renowned Native American Artist, Acee Blue Eagle. In addition to the cards by Blue Eagle, the collection contains a few charming examples of those created by fellow artists such as Al Momaday, Brummett Echohawk and Fred Beaver. Exchanging handcrafted cards--now that really ups the ante, doesn't it?

Acee Blue Eagle Papers, 08777501 and 08777501b, front and inside of card

Acee Blue Eagle Papers, unnum 137 and unnum 137b, front and inside of card

So, to all of our readers, I'd like to say happy holidays and season's greetings (and this didn't even require a return address label)!

Acee Blue Eagle Papers, (L to R clockwise) unnum 123, 08778600, unnum 121, unnum 57

Jennifer Murray, National Anthropological Archives

Filming Imagination

2011-12-09T11:27:00.000-05:00

Ever since the arrival of motion picture film in the 1890's, the medium has been used not just to document the world around us but to convey the hidden, inner world of the imagination. Magician-turned-filmmaker Georges Méliès was an early pioneer of portraying fictional worlds through cinema. His 1902 film, Le voyage dans la Lune (A Trip to the Moon), used elaborate sets, stop-motion animation, hand-coloring, and other special effects to transport audiences to the curious lunar surface.

Méliès and his films are enjoying a revival thanks to Martin Scorsese's Hugo (in which Méliès is a major character) and a recent restoration of the hand-colored version of Le voyage dans la Lune, long believed to be lost, complete with an original score by musical duo Air. Below is video of the black and white version, with an English narration and a more traditional film score.

At the Human Studies Film Archives, we deal mostly with documentary films. I was both delighted and intimidated when I wound into the original 16mm film rolls for Jorge Prelorán's experimental short, Claudia. Here I found extensive splicing due to unusually short shots, multiple soundtracks and credit rolls, and superimposed animation, some of which was scratched into the film's emulsion. In time I sorted out four versions of the film, each with a different musical score. Prelorán intended that all four versions be viewed in succession, to experience the different impressions given by the various soundtracks.

All four versions of Claudia have recently been preserved thanks to an Avant-Garde Masters grant from the National Film Preservation Foundation. The original film was faded and suffering from acetate deterioration. One set of credits had to be carefully re-created, using a mix of digital tools and film. The preservation work was done by Bill Brand of BB Optics and Colorlab. Here is video of Version I in its entirety:

Claudia (Version I) (1972), by Jorge Prelorán

Although he is primarily known as an ethnographic filmmaker, Prelorán made several experimental films and even a feature-length fiction film, Mi Tia Nora (1982). His very first film, Venganza (1951), is a noir crime story. The style and plot of Venganza make it easy to imagine that much of Prelorán's youth was spent in his local movie theater. His last film, Obsesivo (Obsessive) (1996), is an inquiry into the creative process itself. Claudia is one of several short, playful films Prelorán made during his long career as a filmmaker. He called these films 'bagatelles', or little songs. This bagatelle was filmed in Tucumán, Argentina in 1965, during an afternoon spent with the five-year old Claudia, the daughter of a friend. She was about the same age as Prelorán's own daughter, whom he saw little of and missed.

Méliès' work was the beginning of a long tradition of experimentation in film. Set design, special effects, and animation have evolved a great deal since his time and yet, there is still something magical and transporting about La voyage dans la Lune. The same is true of Claudia, with its hand-made animation and deceptively simple approach. Take a few minutes to watch the film (it is only six minutes long), and see if you don't break out in a smile. An ode to imagination, childhood, and the joy of play, Claudia was Prelorán's attempt to capture an inner world and portray an experience not visible to the eye, nor to the movie camera.

Karma Foley, Human Studies Film Archives