O Say Can You See?

Electric guitar pilgrimage

Coming into work one Monday morning in November 1996, I strolled by a small exhibit case and noticed that something wasn’t quite right. The case was very familiar to me because it was part of the Lemelson Center’s newly-opened exhibition, From Frying Pan to Flying V: The Rise of the Electric Guitar and I was the co-curator of the show. On closer inspection I discovered that indeed something had been added, or I should say some things—specifically, 7 guitar picks littered the floor of the case. With eyes only half open before my customary morning cup of coffee, I scratched my head and wondered: How did those get there?

Prince's "Yellow Cloud" guitar.

Eventually, I realized that museum visitors had slipped them through the miniscule cracks between the case’s glass doors, apparently leaving them as offerings to honor iconic instruments (including a loaned first edition 1954 Fender Stratocaster) and beloved musicians such as Prince, represented by his 1989 “Yellow Cloud” guitar from the music collections. It turns out that this wasn’t an isolated incident; we found more guitar pick offerings throughout the show’s run. I also stumbled upon a man literally on his knees in front of a case featuring early instruments including the 1931 prototype of the Rickenbacker “Frying Pan,” the first commercially successful electric guitar. Reverently, the man turned to me and proclaimed: “This, to me, is the Holy Grail of electric guitars.”

This aspect of museum exhibits as pilgrimage sites can be amusing but it is also inspirational. The power of the object, the “real thing,” is reflected in the awed reactions of visitors—from the young visitor who runs excitedly to a case saying “look, Mom, look!” to these anonymous donors of guitar picks who felt compelled to leave behind an extension of themselves (or at least their guitar-playing fingers). Although the Lemelson Center’s electric guitar exhibition closed in 1997, its complementary Web site lives on, and I continue to receive e-mails that attest to the personal meaning and educational impact of the research we share with the public. The powerful personal connections made between individuals of all ages and the millions of artifacts we collect, research, and display are why I love to work at the National Museum of American History, and are reminders why museums play an important role in our society.

Currently a few notable instruments from the museum’s guitar collection are displayed in the artifact wall on the second floor near the Welcome Center. Please come and visit, but don’t leave your guitar picks behind!

Monica Smith is Exhibition Program Manager for the Lemelson Center for the Study of Invention and Innovation at the National Museum of American History.

Something's cookin': Recipe of the Week coming soon

When Julia Child moved back to her home state of California in 2001, she donated the kitchen from her Cambridge, Massachusetts, home to the National Museum of American History.  The exhibition on view at the museum features the actual kitchen, including the cabinets, appliances, cookbooks, kitchen table, and hundreds of utensils and gadgets. The space gives visitors a peek into the working kitchen of one of the world’s best-known cooks, and explores how her influence as an author and host of several television series changed the way America cooks.

A replica of the kitchen plays a starring role in the new movie “Julie & Julia” with Meryl Streep and Amy Adams. And, as of today, beautiful French copper pots and pans have been reunited with the kitchen and are now on view.

In honor of Julia Child, we're inviting you to share your cooking stories, photos, memories, and experiences with us online.  Starting on August 10, this blog will feature a Julia Child "Recipe of the Week" each Monday.  Join with us and other cooking enthusiasts to share your stories of successes, mishaps, and delights in making each dish. We will also be posting pictures and facts about objects that Julia might have used to make the same dishes. 

I know I'm looking forward to trying my hand at Boeuf Bourguignon and, maybe if I'm feeling gutsy, a Reine de Saba cake.  What about you?  What Julia Child recipes do you love whipping up?  Do you have a dish you've always wanted to try?  Leave a comment below and tell us what recipes you'd like to see featured.

Dana Allen-Greil is the new media project manager at the National Museum of American History.

August 11, 2009, Editor's Note: See all Recipe of the Week posts.

Preserve-your-own

Earl Shaffer’s battered black journal is small. It had to be, to fit in a rucksack with everything a man needed to walk over 2,000 miles during four months outdoors. Its leather binding wears the damage of heat and weather from a long summer in 1948 spent in the wilderness with Earl Shaffer as he became the first man to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail in a season.

Amongst the hundreds of ordinary family stories represented by artifacts in the National Museum of American History, Shaffer’s diary is an evocative introduction to the uncommon story of a World War II vet from York County, PA, who walked from Georgia to Maine. His observations, in his constant—and sometimes only—companion became a source for his later life’s work as an advocate for wilderness conservation. The diary is part of the Earl Shaffer Papers collection in the Archives Center, donated by the Earl Shaffer Foundation, used to create an exhibition for the Documents Gallery (opened July 10). 

Unlined pages, packed with inked, tight handwriting--Shaffer’s diary measures no more than nine inches across. It is damaged by water and humidity; some of the different colored inks have bled across the page due to moisture. The covers are tattered and the rings which hold the paper inside are rusting. When the Smithsonian accepted the diary and decided to put it on display, it was given a full examination by our paper conservator. On display, it rests in a custom-built cradle and after the exhibition ends in October 2009 it will be stored in our climate-controlled archive.

We all have family artifacts of some type or another that we want to preserve, for our personal histories even if they don’t end up in the Smithsonian. But what if you don’t have an archive, with HVACs and HEPA filtration?

The good news is that you don’t need a conservation studio just to take simple steps for preserving your family’s archives. There is a wealth of easy-to-follow, expert information online which I follow, using their common-sense measures to preserve my grandmother’s photos from the 1940s: I don’t touch the surface of photographs since the oil on my fingers will damage the image. If I handle them, it’s grasping the edges with clean hands or, better yet, cotton gloves. I store the photos and papers flat, placing them between sheets of acid free paper, and keeping them in an archival-quality, acid-free storage box. Acid-free means the storage materials won’t erode your documents—very important! Finally, avoid adhesives, since most will eventually damage and destroy the photo or paper you affix them to.

First points of reference for everything from preservation to digitization are the Smithsonian Museum Conservation Institute, the American Institute for Conservation of Historic and Artistic Works and the National Archives and Records Administration, which provide easy-to-follow guidelines for ensuring your history will last.

Allison Tara Sundaram is an intern in the New Media program at the National Museum of American History.

Got opinions?

Your opinion counts. Because we’re a public institution with a public mission, you (the public) are critical to our success or failure as a museum.

I spent two hours last week with visitors, testing the design and content of a bookmark we’re creating to promote our online education programs. When museum staff develop exhibitions, they think about visitors too. You often hear people say in meetings: “Trust me, I’ve read the comment cards…” or “I’ve been floating this idea on some list-servs…” And people on our staff take the time to find out what our visitors think by reading blogs, tweets, and newspaper reviews being posted about our museum.

We are listening to you! And we’re glad you’re sharing your thoughts with us (and the world).

So now I’ll offer you another opportunity to share your opinions with us: We’re doing evaluation on our Smithsonian’s History Explorer and OurStory Web sites, intended for teachers of students in all grades and people who care for children in kindergarten through grade four (parents, afterschool care providers, scout leaders). If you’d like to be involved, we’d love to hear from you. Please fill out this form and we’ll be in touch shortly—because your opinions count!

(As always, we encourage you to send us other comments on the Web using our Contact Us form.)

Jenny Wei is an education specialist at the National Museum of American History, and spends too much time working on the education Web sites to evaluate them herself. Help her out!

Bringing the Bobcat out of the barn

It started with a dirty barn. Not that they were the Augean stables; the problem was that the machines available to farmers in 1956 were of Herculean proportions—too big for the turkey stables of Eddie Velo. So he approached local inventors, Louis and Cyril Keller, with his dilemma. In response, they created a small, mobile machine which was eventually mass-produced as the Bobcat loader. A problem, an invention, a solution, and fifty-odd years later the company’s archives arrive at the Smithsonian. But beyond the press release, what does that mean for you, the museum’s public, that we have 56 cubic feet of documents, pictures and videos from the Bobcat corporate records, preserved in our archive?

Image from the Bobcat Archive Collection.

First, all of that information is now publicly available. Selected records will be on view November 30 – January 17, 2010. But it’s more than that, because you, and any member of the public, can make an appointment in our Archives Center to research our collections. The Bobcat Company Records contain documentation of work culture through its commercial films, slides, and photographic prints.

I find the part of the collection dealing with a 1985 corporate exchange trip to Japan intriguing. The visit resulted in the implementation of a process called “kaizen,” or “change for the better,” in Bobcat factories. Each month, employees would analyze the production process for efficiency. These records provide a glimpse into the rewards of cross-cultural engagement. Other people might find something of note in the photographs of company outings and factories, or the commercial films commissioned by the company as a precursor to the info-mercial. Before, these were corporate records. Now, they’re a popular history book, an article or a PhD thesis waiting to happen (my suggestion: “‘From ‘Bobcat a Go-Go’ to the cult of Snuggy: analyzing American purchasing trends in relation to television production values”).

Secondly, and equally important, collecting these records is an affirmation for the employees of Bobcat, past and present, of their place in American manufacturing history. Archivist Alison Oswald visited the town of Gwinner, North Dakota, during the acquisition process. “Just about everyone there has a connection to Bobcat,” Oswald noted. “They take tremendous pride in what they do.”

A complete finding aid for the Bobcat papers will be available on the Archives Center Web site in the near future. Until then, there are guides to other Archives Center holdings which might inspire a detour during your next visit to the museum.

Allison Tara Sundaram is an intern in the New Media program at the National Museum of American History.