On the Shoulders of a Giant

Interpreting Our Heritage, by Freeman Tilden (2007)
A Shared Authority, Introduction and Chapter 12, by Michael Frisch (1990)

When the book-cover blurb promises the defining work in interpretation of heritage resources, attention must be paid. (On a personal level, I have a soft spot for reformed newshounds in porkpie hats.) The volume in question is Freeman Tilden’s Interpreting Our Heritage, first published in 1957 and now in its fourth edition

Tilden’s pioneering work explores the delicate alchemy between guide and audience that takes place as together they traverse, whether physically or in the mind’s eye, places of natural and historic meaning. The project was commissioned by the National Park Service, which oversees both parks and historic sites nationwide. The NPS role in bankrolling and assimilating Tilden's creative talents is worthy of a monograph or more in its own right.

The book covers some of the same ground as works we've read previously, in seeking to chart and channel the dynamics enlacing curator, viewer, and subject. But what is remarkable about Tilden's book, advocating an engaged relationship between interpreter and visitor, is that it was written during the first years of the Eisenhower administration, the era of the “Organization Man” and the “Silent Generation.” In its time, it must have been a game-changer.

 By contrast, Michael Frisch, in A Shared Authority, places his affinity for oral history and other forms of public history that empower ordinary folks squarely in the context of the “history wars” of the 1970s, when the hierarchical world view built in the aftermath of World War II was under attack from multiple quarters. Frisch's notion of shared authority more explicitly articulates a two-way knowledge exchange between historian and public, and he seems to reject Tilden's insistence on experience-based interpretation as "offensively patronizing." Still, Frisch owes an unacknowledged debt to his predecessor's efforts to reconceptualize the rigid scholar/listener model, at a time when this was a radical departure from prevailing practice.

There’s a lot more to like in Tilden. He was prescient in his caution about the use of “gadgetry” (think interactive exhibitry and smart-phone tours): "Gadgets do not supplant the personal contact; we accept them as valuable alternatives and supplements."

His preference for story above pedagogy resonates deeply with me. And finally, consider this: in a time of cultural conformity, this grand old man, an NPS employee, had the temerity to name provocation as the single most important principle of the interpretive craft!

 

Homage to Tilden?

Metalwork 1723-1889 from “Mining the Museum,” 1992,

Maryland Historical Society exhibit curated by Fred Wilson

Well Preserved

Beyond Preservation, by Andrew Hurley, 2010.

I’ve been eagerly awaiting the assignment to read Andrew Hurley’s Beyond Preservation. My patience was rewarded.

Hurley’s that rare bird, an academic who knows the difference between CDCs[1] and CDBGs[2].  His how-to guide to employing oral history and archaeology in the service of rebuilding distressed urban neighborhoods without exorcising those who already live there gives hope to those of us who have been unwitting accomplices to forms of historic preservation that result mostly in costly restoration of gingerbread cottages and festival marketplaces for the affluent. 

Hurley cites Cathy Stanton’s book on the restoration of the textile mills in Lowell, Massachusetts. I suspect the two works form a natural pairing, and hope to write more when we get to Stanton.

In the meantime, in a wild bit of synchronicity, a colleague sent me a link to a wonderful blog, “Ecology of Absence.”  The post “Where Stolen Bricks Go” chronicles the theft and resale of bricks from buildings in a north St. Louis neighborhood  described in Hurley’s book. Lack of funds, iffy real estate markets and community dissention aren’t the only forces impeding historic preservation in inner cities.

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[1] Community development  corporation

[2] Community Development Block Grant

An Etymology of Some Things Public Historians Do

Curate--from Latin curare, "to take care of"
Interpret--from Latin interpretari, " to explain, expound, understand," from interpres, "agent, translator"
Mediate--from Latin mediari, "to intervene, mediate," also, "to be or divide in the middle"

Source: Online Etymology Dictionary