Welcome Home

In Mariruth Leftwich's article, Welcome to My World, she discuses the personal sensory experience that a visitor has while visiting a historic "house museum." In this particular article, she uses the example of Graceland, home of the departed Elvis Presley. She goes into further detail about the power of these kinds of museums and their ability to evoke histories that the visitor can become immersed in with little effort. Due to the direct contact and physical elements and objects in the home, a visitor can walk through the museum and look past the fact that the home owner was in some way famous. The visitor may walk in the museum with expectations that there is something spectacular or unique about the home, but when push comes to shove, there are rooms, and each room is familiar on a physical level. Bathrooms, bedrooms, kitchens, and porches are all emotionally relevant to most people as well. Places like these can spark memories or suggest imagination as to how the owner may have lived each day. On one level, this idea of entering someones home, looking at their personal objects, and walking down their halls seems a bit strange. On the other hand, this invasion of privacy, as one may see it, is the best way to truly understand that no matter what the social status, or time period, we are all living life.

After our visit to the Wylie house, I found myself thinking a lot about what the article meant to me. If the Wylie family was living in that home today, would I have just walked in? If they were not there and I came in the home, I doubt I would feel as comfortable just strolling into the bedroom, or looking off their front porch. I will admit that I walked in there with certain expectations, and left pleasantly surprised. Each room I walked into had a different feel to it. I could imagine Mrs. Wylie nursing her babies in her rocker in the parlor, I could see the little children writing at their desks with their feather pens, and I could look out the windows or off the porch and imagine the fields in the backdrop; no cars, no loud horns, no stoplights. Allowing myself to relax and experience the physical aspects of the place I was in gave me insight and understanding about someone else's life. I also have a greater appreciation for the Wylie family. It was also evident that objects played a major role in representation of history. If the home had been empty and there were no evidence that the home had been lived in, I would not have had the same experience. The objects make the home have a particular welcoming feeling. This also connects greatly to our object journey in class. Pretty amazing what objects can facilitate and create.

A Moment in TIme

According to Hirsch's "Place and Time," we carry cameras to capture the perfect picture. In many cases, the camera catches more than just the family in the photograph. This gives insight on how the family might live, what kind of furniture is present, or even layout of a home. Through various examples of family photos, Hirsch discusses how the background, or the place can actually become insignificant in comparison to the moment in time. Another idea he suggests is that when the background is blank or plain the people's faces, direction they are looking, hands being gestured, etc all reveal the emotion and bond of the individuals as a family. One of his last points is that the photo is not looked at for the place, because that place has had other moments and various emotions, but it is the moment in time at that very second the photo is taken, that really matters.
In my photo, seen below, you can see me, my son Leon, my boyfriend Stuart, and our dog Duke. Our family is small and is just beginning. Looking at the background, we are in the most common location of photographs taken, the living room. You can see the couch, the throw pillows, one of Leon's blankets, and his toy tucked in the left corner.Looking at the object alone, you can tell that our family has a small child. Looking at our expressions, the smiles are genuine, and our posture is relaxed and comfortable. Stuart is leaning on me, Leon is tucked between us, and I am holding his little hand while Stuart wraps Duke in a hold so he doesn't squirm away. But what happened in that moment in time? Right when the camera captured the moment we will have forever? What you don't see is what happened right before or right aster this was taken. Leon was looking at the camera, but in a split second right before the picture was taken he turned his head in distraction, Duke doing the same. Duke's head turning away shows how hard it has been for him to adjust to having a new baby in the home, and Leon's distraction comes from being in a new place, an undiscovered world. Stu and I look into the camera smiling at the thought of how happy we are to be together in a house as a family. The place means nothing without that moment in time, a moment worth remembering.

My little family.

Walking Through Campus

In this week's visit to the Thomas Hart Benton Murals, at the IU Auditorium, I found a lot of what David Finn spoke about in his article: Walking in the City. In my personal experience, if I wrote an article about my relationship with the murals and the IU campus, I would title it: Walking Through Campus. I have been to the IU auditorium multiple times for various reasons. I have gone to shows, bought tickets for friends, and I have even gone specifically to look at the murals. In all these visits I have never really "seen" the mural and all it has to offer as a story of Indiana's history.Finn talks about walking the streets of the city and noticing new things about places he sees everyday. In this case, I had a similar experience. After we had our group discussion about the different parts of the murals, my view about everything around me changed. I can no longer walk campus without noticing something different or discovering a new tree, or a cool building, etc.

In the article, Finn talks explicitly about making new discoveries and how it can become a game that you never lose. He explains that there is always something new to see, in his case, walking in the city of New York. As I walked into the auditorium I realized how much I had missed. There was so much to the mural to discover, and I had been there so many times before not even taking a second glance. Finn gives one example of this when he discusses his photograph that he had taken out of a car toward the street. There was a man walking and reading. Not until he developed the film, did he realize that there was another man in the shot. The other man was sitting on a stoop. Each person showed a contrast between "living in their own little worlds." When looking at the mural in sections, we were able to see this is a similar way. When you stand there and glance upward at the mural and scan across it's length all around the auditorium, you are just taking a picture from a moving car, but as soon as you look for a while at a small section of the mural, you have then developed the film and are able to see individual stories.

Like Finn, we were looking at the daily lives of people in small snapshots of time, and then speculating about each person's individual story. The artist provided characters in specific motions, clothes, form, and locations on the mural to allow the viewer to make assumptions and tell stories about what they saw. I do not think the artist was trying to make each and every person perfectly recognizable, or even each scene portrayed, I think the main idea was to find what you believed to be important in the mural. In my case, when I looked at the mural I associated with the farming scene. I have grown up in a rural farming community all my life and as a Hoosier, I relate to that section of the mural.

Money, Morals, and the Divine Market

After our visit to the IU Art Museum exhibit of Renaissance through Modern art, I have a deeper understanding for appreciation and analysis of artifacts. In the time that we walked the area of the exhibit and after our discussions of a few of the paintings, I feel like I am able to look at an artifact with several different lenses. I can look for basic facts and describe only what I see, analyze what I see, and then interpret what I saw. A lot of the still life paintings we looked at gave you the power to decide what was most important, and what each individual object meant. In discussing still life paintings, and learning to really look at artifacts, sometimes longer than you would think you might need to, I have also connected Joshua Wolf Shenk's article: The Things We Carry to my overall experience this week.

In this article Shenk articulates the importance of moral versus market value and worth being intrinsic or extrinsic through the use of a short story regarding his typewriter and objects mentioned on Antiques Roadshow. he also discusses how everything we have are becoming commodities and the market is a divine force. In many cases, once people found out how much their morally valued objects were worth in dollars and cents, the object became more significant, or significantly less important. It was almost heartbreaking for many of the people he mentioned who went to the appraiser because what they found out made them question what they carried. I think one good example of this was the old man who had the whale tooth. As he got it out of the bag, the appraiser, with little patience told him it was worth nothing and that he could find that particular object anywhere he wanted.  The author's description of the mans response to this made me feel so badly. Would it not be better for him to just appreciate what he has and be happy with its intrinsic and moral worth? Now that he was told it was worthless, at least in regards to dollar value, the man became somber and disregards his previous feelings. This is also a great example of another one of Shenk's points. Int he article he discuses the belief in things that can be touched or counted and the belief in feelings, that are evoked by these things. I think both aspects play an important role in why we carry the objects we carry.

Although this article seems more appropriate in suggesting ideas about an antique store, I find it crucial to take a step back and look at this as a way of looking at museums in general, regardless of the exhibition and artifacts presented. at the IU Art Museum, when we were looking at all of the art I was not thinking of value, I just thought that all the artifacts had value, and worth because they were displayed. it makes me wonder what my opinion might be if some random person on the street had it and their grandfather painted it in the past. With grandfather not being famous and having no other well known works, would I still consider it valuable? If you asked me I would probably say no. But that is because we are learning to stray from intrinsic and moral value, and judge on market value. In this day and age, it becomes a question of would I buy that? Not, what is that object's moral history? Interesting concept to think about. I really enjoyed this weeks reading.

Neglected Histories

As soon as I stepped in the door of the Bloomington Antique Mall, I felt at home. The smell of aged antique wood and books is a very familiar and comforting smell to me. Ever since I can remember there have always been antiques and collectibles in my life. The first person I thought of when I walked in and looked around was my grandfather. All his life he devoted every chance he could get to collecting, trading, and selling antiques. He owned a small antique mall in Carmel Indiana called The Heritage of Carmel. I will admit that there was a sense of sadness that overwhelmed me as I walked around, but only because everything I saw brought back good memories. It reminded me of how much I miss him. I was surprised to see that many of the items in the mall resembled many of the items that my grandfather had in his shop. On in particular was the wooden cigar store Indian that is brightly painted and really tall. My grandfather had three or four variations of the one that I saw. He gave my mother one of them and I grew up with it in my house. My mother, very much like her father, adores antiques and most of our house was filled with them.

In Gordon's Historical Display, Commerce, and Community, he discusses the idea of neglected private histories. He also explains that these smaller museums, truck stops, and antique malls are more personal. These places, whether classified as a museum or not, are a place to invite the visitor to have a perspective on the past through an exhibition medium. He also discusses that these kinds of private places are interesting places to visit because they allow the visitor to bring prior knowledge and motivations of understanding and interpreting themes. In the Bloomington Antique Mall his points are reflected. When I walked in the mall I had prior knowledge and memories about antiques. A lot of what I saw connected with my past and I made personal assumptions about people who might have owned the objects displayed,  in regards to my own experiences. I think this makes things so much more interesting.

On one level, visiting places like the Indiana University Art Museum are  great learning experiences. But I do feel like there is a disconnect when the objects you are viewing are not part of your culture or a part of your past. I think it is very important to learn about cultures and places around the world so you have a greater appreciation for what people can create, but it becomes difficult to connect with something that is not familiar. I also think that society neglects to see what is in front of them. The idea of a public private museum seems like an alien idea, but how cool is that? Exposing yourself and presenting the past through everyday objects that people consider private and personal.

Gordon also mentions the three concepts of community, entrepreneurial, and vernacular as public dialogue in various exhibitions. The Bloomington Antique Mall brings to light all three of these concepts. It has local history, it imitates the functions of small business, and also makes consumption an act of public identification. The fact that all the items in the mall are for sale, allows the history of the objects to continue and get passed on to another private owner. It is a cycle. We make assumptions about what are displayed in the mall, we buy objects that we find valuable and has personal history, and then eventually we are judged for what we display. It makes you wonder why something so common and close to peoples' hearts is neglected to be seen as history.

A Story to be Told

After taking a trip to the Monroe County Historical Center and the IU Art Museum, it has become very clear to me that art has a bigger purpose. Not only can some art be aesthetically pleasing, but it can also tell a story. The story may be about love, it may be about pain, or it may just be about a Llama. In Elizabeth Vallance's The Adventures of Artemis and the Llama: A Case for Imaginary Histories in Art Education, she speaks explicitly about how most objects' histories are unknown and that the only way to find connections and reveal truth is to use the imagination and create a narrative for the object. She explains that by making personal connections and paying attention to detail, one can make art more accessible. Although on my first museum visit I had not read her work, my second visit to the IU Art Museum was much more of an experience thanks to her article. All my life I have been taught to read the label, learn about the facts, and see what is in front of me at face-value.

After reading the article I can take a step back and think about the vase or sculpture as a living thing, something with a past, a present, and a future. I found this to be most evident when we had a class discussion about the Greek vase. I would never have thought that the story being depicted on the vase was about tragedy in love. Achilles falls in love with the woman that  at the same time he kills. I find it interesting that the vase not only has a story on its surface, but it can also have a story as an object in time. I ask my self questions like: who drank the wine from its depths so many years ago? Did they tell stories and talk of love and death as they drank at parties? Who owned the vase, was he rich or poor? All these questions and more make the art more accessible, as Vallance says.

At the Monroe County Historical Center I really enjoyed the way it was displayed. The classroom and the log cabin were great examples of historical imagery and narrative. When you walk in to the classroom you can imagine the students sitting at their desks, and the teacher discussing the math lesson, and in the cabin you can picture the mother cooking the rabbit her husband just killed, while the children play on the dirt floor with their cloth dolls. The whole building itself has a history. Yes, I may now know that it was once a school building that was segregated, but what were the students and teachers like? What about the stocks room we got the opportunity to visit, just think of all the untold stories that lie on those shelves. Everyone that enters the museum will have preconceived notions and expectations of what they are "supposed" to see and experience. It is only when you take a step back and see the objects as living things with a voice and a story to tell that you will truly understand and appreciate their presence.

As I move forward, and go to new exhibits and museums, I will now have a greater appreciation for the story that each object or piece of art has to offer. How cool is it to think that I have the power to create a history. The label below the statue is only the beginning of the truth. With an open mind, an analytical approach, and imagination, there is a story to be told.

I am in a Museum

This week, the reading that really stuck out to me was the excerpt from "Why We Need Things," by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. Although his name is extremely hard to pronounce, he makes some valid points and I have conflicting views on some of what the text has to offer. The main concept addressed in the article is the idea of objectification, or the relationship between people and the artifacts they choose to obtain.

These objects that we have in everyday life help one explain to themselves about who they are as a person and provide a means of expression, which therefore creates a facade we hope to portray to others. Csikszentmihalyi explains that there are three main reasons for having particular objects: demonstrating power, providing time recognition, and social standing. He also stresses the fact that dependence on objects is physical, but mostly psychological. He makes quite a jump and says that without props, our personal identity fades. I disagree, external stimuli is not a necessity like he claims. I believe that we are perfectly capable of having identity without objects. What if you are poor? If I have no money to buy things I really want, and all I can afford is food and water, am I considered identity-less? People are like museums. We are always changing. We are always observed by random people that we may never speak to, and there will always be judgment we cannot stop. Like a painting on a wall we are criticized and praised for flaw and perfection. I do not think WE need things to identify ourselves, but in fact,  I think that our peers need things to identify other people. This point is made clear in the article, the author talks about other people the whole time, and not once does he mention why HE needs the objects.

I guess my point is that this article really got me to thinking about what I own, and why I own it. Maybe I am unaware that I own certain things for a reason. I think our consciousness is exposed in ways we have no control over. I will admit that I care what other people think of me, to an extent. I dress casually most of the time, but never sloppy. But I dress the way I do for me, not other people. If I felt like not showering for a week and not changing my clothes that would be my own prerogative. The clothes I buy are on the racks in Target, or the mall and I am in a way buying for an audience. Who are the people putting out the line of clothes in style at Target? Are they not deciding how to identify people? Whether I like it or not, objects and humans are interdependent. Do I think we could go without? Probably. I do not know how I feel about the objects I have, but that I have them because I like them. I guess that is for everyone else to decide, because after reading this article, it does not look like I have much say in the matter anyways... so put me in a museum! It is no different than walking down a busy street. There will be people, there will be judgement, and I do not care.