Reflections: Between Academic and Public Histories

by Christina Carlson-

As I reflect on this course on public history, I find that a few main ideas and thoughts stick out from the many things we learned throughout the semester. One of the themes I am continually brought back to is the sometimes conflicting relationship between public and academic history.

Maybe I am most struck by this discussion as my studies at SIUE have continuously revolved around these two sides of the historical discipline. As an MA student in Historical Studies, as well as a student in the Museum Studies program, I have often noticed places where academic and public history seem mutually exclusive. One example would be in a museum collections management class I took, where the attention of the registrar and conservator was given fully to the condition and physical description of the object, with little thought as to the object’s historical significance or the story behind it. At the same time, in my academically focused history classes, objects themselves were not considered at all.

Within this class we have run up against many places where the need to draw in the public has been at odds with a history more focused on raising broader and more difficult historical questions. As we discussed the work we were doing with our community partner, we immediately realized the limitations of our group projects. Even as we recognized both positive and negative aspects to the issues of immigration, race, Americanization, and labor in the small, multi-ethnic community of Lincoln Place, we also realized restrictions in telling these stories in more complex ways. We were forced to ask ourselves how we could appropriately and truthfully represent Lincoln Place in a way that would be beneficial to the community, while also representing a thorough historical account of the neighborhood.

As we toured local historical sites and met with professionals in the field, we witnessed this conflict between academic and public history as well. At the Holocaust Museum, for example, we recognized how difficult it can be to tell all of the relevant pieces of an event such as the Holocaust of World War II, especially in a space as small as that museum.

I am also acutely aware of the relationship between academic and public history as my future career will likely continue to fall somewhere between these two worlds. Even now, I am working on a project for the Saint Louis Science Center about the history of organ transplants. As I complete this small project, I must continually keep in mind how I can engage visitors while telling a story that isn’t just about scientific triumph, but also about many failed transplants and unsuccessful experiments. It may be a different situation than the one in Lincoln Place or the Holocaust Museum, but I think the essential idea remains the same.

Finding a balance between these two worlds sometimes seems difficult, and yet I think this balance is worth striving toward. After thinking through and discussing these ideas repeatedly during this class, I believe both the academic and public sides of history can benefit greatly from the perspective the other side provides.

Corporate History as Public History? Why Public Historians Should Care About Corporate Museums

by Christina Carlson-

In the past few weeks in class we have talked about several forms of museums and the challenges associated with presenting history at a public museum. However, I believe there is another type of museum that we have not covered, and which actually may not belong in the realm of “public history” at all, but I believe is still important to address: the corporate history museum.

I define corporate history museums as museums which are put together, either directly or indirectly, by a for profit corporation in order to promote its history.  Corporate history “museums” may be as small as a display case, or as large as an entire building. All corporate history museums, though, exist for the purpose of presenting their company in a positive light by using artifacts, photographs, and other information from the company’s history.  Examples of this type of museum would be the Louisville Slugger Museum in Louisville, KY, one of the many Wells Fargo Museums, the John Deere Pavilion in Moline, IL, or the Wood River Refinery History Museum.

The chief difference between a corporate history (presented by a corporation) and a traditional museum is mostly related to the way in which historical material is presented. Corporate history museums tend to be almost completely celebratory, with their primary purpose being to present themselves in a positive light in order to gain more business. Many times these exhibits are created by museum professionals who specialize in corporate history.

Why is it important for public historians to address corporate history museums and displays? For one, the trend of using a corporation’s past to promote business or to enhance the image of the company is becoming much more popular. Major corporations are increasingly turning to history to address current controversial issues over labor relations, exploitation, and environmental dangers. The History Factory, one of the largest consulting firms for corporate history displays, clearly reflects this mission on its homepage:

“The History Factory is a heritage management firm that helps today’s leading global corporations, organizations and institutions discover, preserve and leverage their unique history to meet today’s business challenges.”

The general goal of the corporate history museum is evident in this mission statement, and the desire to promote business is at the forefront of nearly every corporate museum.

It is also vital for public historians to address the growing field of corporate history because the themes presented in a corporate museum may run contrary to the ideas public historians want to convey. A corporate museum is not likely to present past labor issues and disputes or controversial environmental issues, while another history museum may wish to emphasize these corporate shortcomings. People who attend both corporate and non-corporate museums may find these contradictions confusing. If the Shell Oil museum tells about all of the great things the company has done for the community, how can another museum’s exhibit successfully question this narrative? After all, shouldn’t Shell know more about it’s own company than some outside museum? It is questions such as these that museum professionals outside of the corporate world will need to answer as corporate museums continue to grow in popularity.

Still, on a practical level, would it really be bad for a public historian to be involved in corporate history? After all, with the job market for historians on the decline, working for a major corporation might be a wise career decision in terms of job security. I suppose my personal response to this is that, had my primary concern in life been wealth building, I would not have pursued history in the first place.

For another look at the growing trend of corporate museums, see the American Association of Museums article “Corporate, Culture? One Part Education. One Part Sales. This is the Corporate Museum.”

Civil War Cell Phones? Reenactments at SIUE’s Sesquicentennial Celebration

by Christina Carlson-

Sitting in a tent with the wind whipping around the edges of its white canvas, I watch a man in an immaculate 19th century wool uniform carefully tie up paper gun cartridges with twine. As he works, the man explains the way the cartridges are made and why he believes it is important to make them that way. Suddenly, a cheery jingle fills the tent and the man reaches in his pocket, pulling out a cellular phone. “I invented that last night,” he says jokingly, then turns off the phone and continues working on the cartridges. Thus begins my first experience with Civil War reenactors.

Photo by Laura Fowler

Our class has covered the topic of reenactments and their relationship to public history before, but I wanted to convey my own personal experience observing and interacting with Civil War reenactors this weekend on the campus of SIUE. Although I was not working directly with the reenactors at the sesquicentennial events, I did find time to wander around their bivouac site. Aside from the slightly humorous incident with the ringing cell phone, I encountered several other parts of the encampment that seemed slightly contradictory. As Jeremy talked about in his recent post, many reenactors, perhaps particularly Civil War reenactors, tend to focus on the details of their uniform, weapon, and aspects of camp life. Yet, even as a “captain” in the sesquicentennial group talked about how accurately the cannon they fired was to the original, the group did not fire actual cannon balls; the noise and smoke were caused by gun powder wrapped in aluminum foil. In another instance, a “nurse” had bandages that she noted were very close to what civil war-era surgeons would have used, but a plastic bottled labeled “fake blood” was in plain view beside the bandages.

Photo by Laura Fowler

Inconsistencies such as this are quite revealing when it comes to reenactment as a whole. As has been noted before, although reenactors strive for accuracy in many aspects they can never truly reach back into another time or situation. After all, they do not shoot real cannons, or bleed real blood. In general, reenactment does not attempt to address larger historical questions, even as it attempts to convey a sense of authority about a certain historical time and situation.

Photo by Laura Fowler

Despite the shortcomings of reenactment as a form of public history, does it hold some value for public historians? I saw many people at the sesquicentennial events become excited about history and its possibilities. Both children and adults were enthralled with the working of an “actual” Civil War encampment in a way that is not always present in a more formal historical setting. Although I have often shied away from reenacting–as I see it as a form of history which generally does not address the larger themes of historical discourse–I now wonder if it cannot have some place in public history. Perhaps if we as public historians attempt to connect the finite details of camp life, military drills, and bandages to larger themes, reenactments could serve as an important link between the public and important historical questions. In this environment, discrepancies such as ringing cell phones could serve us and the public we address quite well. We could make the point that, although they did not have our modern technology, people in a certain time period were much like ourselves. It is this attempt to understand the humanity behind history that makes it worthwhile as a study at all.

Cars in the Infield: Indianapolis’s Bush Stadium and Historic Preservation

by Christina Carlson-

What happens to a baseball field when it falls into disrepair and can no longer be used? Busch Stadium in downtown St. Louis was demolished and a new one built recently, but this is not always the fate of historic sports complexes. A couple of weekends ago I was in Indianapolis when I noticed a rundown, old baseball stadium on 16th Street. I stopped to take a look and noticed the entire playing field was filled with old cars. With my interest piqued, I decided to do some further research. What I found out about this old stadium provides an interesting and unique look into historic preservation in industrial cities.

The art deco exterior of Bush Stadium

Built in 1931 as Perry Stadium, this landmark in Indianapolis was once home to Indianapolis’s minor league team, as well as two Negro League teams. The stadium was built by Osborn engineering which also constructed Fenway Park and other ballparks of the early 20th century. The stadium is of architectural interest due to its art deco façade. In the 1940s, the ballpark was renamed Victory Stadium to reflect American patriotism during the Second World War. After the city purchased the stadium in 1967, it was again renamed, this time after former major league baseball star, Donnie Bush.

In 1996, the Indianapolis Indians moved to a new stadium and Bush Stadium was converted to a dirt race car track. However, this venture did not last long and the ballpark has now stood vacant for almost thirteen years. The landmark was placed on the National Register of Historic Places, ensuring its survival. However, the longer it sits vacant, the more in danger it is of deteriorating beyond repair. Already, the walls and stands are overgrown and much of the exterior is chipping away.

So why are the cars inside the stadium? They’re not wrecked or abandoned vehicles from when the park served as a race track, which is what I first assumed.  They are actually automobiles that were traded in during the “Cash for Clunkers” program in Indianapolis in 2009. Currently, there are no plans to redevelop or restore the stadium and its future remains uncertain.

Unwanted cars inside Bush Stadium

Although the story of Bush Stadium’s rise and decline in Indianapolis is interesting, I believe it also raises important questions about historic preservation and urban renewal. For one, it might be apt to question why a space which is considered an important fixture of Indianapolis – both in historic and architectural terms – is being utilized as a graveyard for old cars. Was there simply not enough room to house them somewhere else? Or is historic preservation of such low priority in Indianapolis that the preservation of the old ballpark is of little concern to the city? We have to question if the city of Indianapolis is actually doing its job in preserving a landmark on the National Register of Historic Places, or if it is simply ignoring the meaning of preservation.

Finally, I think we have to note the revealing irony of this entire situation – an old ballpark which residents desperately want to preserve is housing cars that no one really wants. This strange spatial relationship might call us to question why we choose some landmarks or objects to preserve and not others. Naturally, the cars may not be of much use, but is the ball field, either? We could say that the park is preserved due to its architecture, but it is not the only example of its kind still standing. Or is the ball park preserved simply because it is so strongly tied to regional memory and identity?

Google Maps view of Bush Stadium showing cars

Perhaps some of the answers to these questions will come if the city decides to restore Bush Stadium. Until then, it remains an intriguing place at the crossroads between the drive to preserve and the desire to demolish.

City Museum: A Museum of the City?

by Christina Carlson-

Last week we talked about museums and their role in public history. Most museums are easy to categorize.  They might present the history of a local area or a specific group of people, a history of the natural world, art from throughout the ages, or a famous historical site such as the site of the Battle of Little Bighorn.

And then there’s City Museum.

City Museum in downtown St. Louis does not easily fit into the common stereotype of a museum. Are its tangled wires, hollowed aircraft, and old conveyor belts art? Can it be a history museum if it has no interpretative labels? It is really preserving a city’s past if it encourages visitors to scrambled over and climb on its “artifacts?”

All of these questions are legitimate when dealing with City Museum, and none of them have been definitively answered. Although many question the validity of calling City Museum a museum in the traditional sense, I would argue that it does many things a museum should.

Monstrocity at the City Museum

For one, City Museum preserves pieces of its city’s past. Nearly all of the industrial materials that make up City Museum are from within the St. Louis region (the one exception I know of is some of the architectural ornament in Architecture Hall which actually came from a school house in Indiana). The building which houses City Museum was once the home of International Shoe Company, one of the largest shoe producers in the world in the first half of the 20th century. The so-called ten story slide was once actually used in the shoe factory to send shoes to different floors. The two planes in the outdoor Monstrocity, both Sabreliner jets, were manufactured just south of the city of St. Louis. The stairs in the main hall came from the old St. Louis County hospital. Architectural ornament in Architecture Hall was salvaged from throughout the St. Louis area, much of it designed by famous architect Louis Sullivan. This list could go one, as there are countless other pieces to City Museum and each of those holds of a story of its own.

Yet, there is more to City Museum than just its preservation of these “artifacts” from a city’s past. City Museum also does something most museums would not dare–it reshapes and reuses the artifacts it houses and makes them into something new and exciting. Children and adults alike thrill at the idea of climbing several stories in the air in Monstrocity, running around “skateless park,” or running through the dark tunnels of the Enchanted Forest. Perhaps some would see this type of artifact “exhibition” as too gimmicky or too close to a theme park. Others would argue that it is nothing more than a tourist trap or a way for City Museum’s founder to make money. However, if this were the case, why is such care spent on using only objects from St. Louis? In a rare interview, City Museum’s founder did stress that, “the point is not to learn every fact, but to say, ‘Wow, that’s wonderful.’ And if it’s wonderful, it’s worth preserving.”[1] Is City Museum really more than a giant playground? By reusing refuse from the industrial heyday of St. Louis, is City Museum actually doing more than a traditional museum? Is it possible that by allowing visitors to interact with the city’s past in an unorthodox way, City Museum is bringing about greater change in a desolate downtown than a traditional history museum? Can any historic value be found in City Museum’s methods?

Exploring inside City Museum

I am not sure of the answer to these questions myself. I do know that I hope anyone who visits City Museum will let their “imagination run wild.” Because maybe that spark of imagination is what this city really needs.

[1] “Got Rollers?” Material Handling Management Vol. 62, no. 8 (August 2007), 4.

History Through Public Eyes

by Christina Carlson-

This summer, I had the wonderful opportunity to learn about public history first hand when I took part in creating the Ubjects III exhibit at the Schmidt Art Center. The Ubjects III exhibit was part of a four year project known as CUSP that was undertaken by SIUE, Southwestern Illinois College, and University of Missouri-St. Louis. CUSP stands for Conjunctions, Ubjects (a made up word meaning unique objects), Stories, and People. The main purpose of the CUSP project is to understand the history of southwestern Illinois through individual participants from local communities.

Ubjects III began when people from Lebanon, Highland, Fairmont City, and Mascoutah answered the question, “What object in your home best defines your generation?” Participants from these communities met with students and gave short interviews to explain why their particular objects defined their generations. Many of the participants then lent their objects to create a community history exhibit at the Schmidt Art Center. During the summer, I created an exhibit using these objects and the stories behind them.

Many people viewed music as a defining factor of their generation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A "hippie" outfit from the 1960s, once worn by Linda Whyte of Mascoutah, Illinois

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An 8mm motion picture camera-one of the first home movie cameras

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Ubjects III exhibition space

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The project was both incredibly fun and incredibly enlightening for me. I realized how important it is to involve a community with a museum exhibit about their local area. Everyone has a different view of their community’s past and their own place in it. By combining so many of these views into something based on personal stories, the Ubjects III exhibit was able to present pieces of a community’s past which might not have been considered in a traditional exhibition setting. The exhibit was truly directed by those in the community who participated.

Should people in a community be involved in the creation of museums or their exhibits? Do you think there are stories or histories which are commonly ignored in traditional museums?