Sunday, March 09, 2008

The History Channel explores Life After People

The History Channel has recently aired Life After People , an exploration of what would happen to the Earth if all humans suddenly left. There is no comment on why or what happened to the people; no stories of disasters, wars, or disease. It is as if they left home and never returned.

The two-hour show outlines what would happen in the first hours, days, weeks, and months, finally taking year increments - 10 years, 20 years, ... 150 years, 200 years, etc. The show discusses how quickly our modern conveniences, like electricity, would fail without human maintenance, contemplates the fate of family pets, and demonstrates how plants would overtake our industrial centers.

As Mother Nature and the ravages of time wear on, viewers are left to contemplate what would be left of the human legacy. Images of the Lincoln Memorial looking much like a forgotten Mayan ruin flash before us. We are left to consider how permanent our structures are and in what form our historical record will survive -- if it will survive.

We often envisage that we will have more to leave behind than our ancient ancestors. Surely archaeologists in the future will have more to go on than we have with pictures on buildings and inscriptions in stone. Even buildings crumble without maintenance in harsh climates. Just how permanent is our legacy? Books and acetate film are specifically considered. Without humans to implement and maintain the climate controls at places like the Getty Institute, these temporary vessels of our knowledge and experience are left to warp, mold, and be reduced to nothing. Our digital items are also not so long lasting, even before considering the availability of playback systems.

Preservation is a constant maintenance task. Time and nature are not our best friends. Therefore it is crucial to consider how important people -- preservation librarians, archivists, etc. -- are to making sure our legacy is saved. These items will not last on their own.

Friday, February 22, 2008

You have to wear the gloves

In the last post I mentioned that getting closer to your ideal preservation conditions and processes involves one step at a time and suggested buying white gloves as a first inexpensive step to dealing with your items, such as photographs or slides. The second step is, obviously enough, that you have to wear the gloves.

This may seem to simple, but it's often the harder part of taking that first step. Not wearing the gloves is like starting an exercise program by buying the gym membership and then never going. It's easy to do, but not very effective and won't get you any closer to your goals. Get into the habit. Set an example for your staff by wearing the gloves when you work with the items. Create a habit. Let's say working with the photographs is something you only do once a week. Instead, try to make a schedule to work with the photographs every day for an hour (if you don't already) and make sure you wear the gloves as part of your ritual.

Still resisting? Perhaps there is something else going on. The gloves aren't the right size. Or you need to use lotion after wearing them for a while. See if there are other problems that can be resolved so that you can master this step. Maybe white gloves were not the place to start. The whole point of the previous post was to start somewhere, not to boost glove sales; the whole point of this post is that once you do start, follow through. Wear your gloves - whatever form they take.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Preservation is Compromise

We would all like to have the best equipment, the best space, the ideal climate conditions for our collections, but sometimes it's just not feasible. This isn't about giving up altogether, or complaining about the library world, being underfunding, the lack of professionalism, etc. It's about realizing that these compromises and priority-making are a part of the work. It is what makes librarianship, museum curation, and preservation a challenging job - one that should require a masters degree to do.

Celebrate the small victories, and move forward even if you don't think you're "at that stage yet." For example, buying gloves for handling photographs. The gloves are inexpensive and a good place to make one small step forward. The environment may not be the cleanest, many of the photographs may already be dusty, water damaged, ripped and bent, and you may not be putting them into the proper archival boxes right away, however, it's a start. Donning the gloves is a constant reminder of how the space is supposed to be a clean area. It will get you into the mindset to make other small changes and decisions.

It may also open your eyes to the long way you have to go to get to your ideal preservation set up, but don't let it overwhelm you. Next month, maybe you'll be able to ensure you have a few of those archival boxes.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Digital preservation?

Preservation is Access
Digitization is Access
Therefore...

Now, wait a minute. Digitization is not preservation. It's not clear why many people think this way, but digitization does not save everything.

The National Museum of American History has been closed since 2006 and will not reopen until summer 2008. During this time, The Treasures of American History, which includes Dorothy's Ruby Red Slippers from The Wizard of Oz, as well as Archie Bunker's chair from All in the Family, will be housed at the National Air and Space Museum. This summer, there happened to be an event in that area of the NASM on one particular day and the Treasures of American History exhibit was closed until 2:3o p.m. At 3:00 p.m., the doors finally opened to the public and a burst of people rushed it. There were numerous 8-12 year-olds with cameras who practically ran from exhibit to exhibit taking quick snapshots of each of the items.

As I stood looking at a large table with lots of small squares of colors and read the description, I realized that it was decorated with detailed inlaid wood, not merely painted, as I first thought. A young girl slipped alongside me, snapped a picture and left, not pausing for a second. I'm sure she had less time than originally planned since the exhibit was open for a third of the time on that particular day, but I wonder how much she really got out of the exhibit. When she gets home will she look at the pictures? Will she realize the stories behind them or the detail that went into them? Will she be able to walk around the pieces and realize how they are put together? Finally, why did she come to the museum in the first place? The Ruby Red Slippers are online here.

And here's the table.
Don't you wish you could see it close up?