(Scarborough Castle--taken on a walk last week. See? I do leave my house occasionally.)
It has been far too long since my last blog post, even for me. This last month has just been a long slog of article reading, lit review writing, and dissertation worrying. I realise that I haven't really talked about my dissertation here at all, so here we go!
One of the most exciting parts of buildings archaeology is learning to 'unpick' buildings, and read their history in the fabric of the building itself. One thing I'd noticed with many buildings but vernacular buildings in particular, is the tendency for well-meaning conservationists (or Victorians) to scrape later additions off of buildings, returning them to a *idealised* medieval or post medieval state. This constant return to the earliest possible state of a building implicitly values the oldest part of the building over the later. And I suppose that, for some, that is a sensible value. But why must we value things just because they're old? The great thing about vernacular buildings is that most of them survive today because they were continually adapted and changed to meet the evolving needs of their inhabitants. They were not left in their medieval states because, lets face it, an open hearth is not a comfortable or efficient means of heating. Also, staircases are awesome (and first floors are only possible with fireplaces). But rather than celebrating human progress and innovation, scraping buildings solidifies the past, and makes it into a (too clean) nostalgic idyll.
Open-air museums (similar to US living history museums) often collect vernacular buildings which are in danger of collapse, and rescue them by taking them to a remote location, and restoring them, often to this aforementioned medieval state. It's like an animal sanctuary, but for abused buildings. So on one hand, they are saving buildings that would otherwise be lost, but on the other, they are rarely telling the public about the later stages of the building, which gives a false impression of the past.
At the Ryedale Folk Museum (est 1960s) in North Yorkshire, they have about 20 buildings, some of which are rescued and some of which are recreations. They span from an Iron Age round house to a 1950s sweet shop. They're spread over 5 acres in a pseudo-village (which in and of itself is a bit problematic), and each is fully furnished with a collection of items designed to illustrate rural Yorkshire life throughout the ages. The founder of the museum, Bert Frank, wanted to show life As It Was, as a way to connect the community of Hutton-le-Hole and the wider area with its heritage.
One of the first buildings he rescued was Stang End. It's a cruck framed building, meaning that it is constructed using oak trees which are split down the middle, and splayed in an A shape, and connected along the top and sides with purlings. (So if you looked at this building from the gable end, there would be 5 As stacked like a line of dominos...ready to fall down at a strong wind.) The crucks are held together with purlins and a prayer, and from the pictures I've seen of the construction of Stang End, I can imagine that Health and Safety would ahh... not be amused. Or impressed.
But I certainly am.
So for my dissertation, I'm going to be using Stang End as a case study to examine museum practice. How did Bert Frank decide to rebuild the cottage? Did he stick to the original planform (spoiler: no!) How does the museum explain the full history of the building? How do they explain the choice to bring the cottage back to its (possible) 1704 appearance when it was inhabited up to 1934? And how do the public interact with the building? What are they interested in seeing? Do they care to know what is 'authentic' about the building as opposed to Bert Frank's conjecture? How could we improve the interpretation of the building to include this more complicated understanding of the building?
There are several strands to this dissertation, ranging from authenticity issues, questions of identity creation, authority and the role of heritage professional, as well as understanding the physical building itself. I've already been up to Ryedale thrice (there's evidence of this on facebook), and I'm planning another few trips to do some semi-structured interviews in June. But I'm at almost 4000 words in my lit review, and it's only May, so I feel pretty good about it.
Right now, I'm eyeing the assessed lecture I have to give at the end of May with a lot of trepidation. I know it's just something I have to do and get it over with, but I really, really hate any form of public speaking, so I'm busting my butt to get it all written and practiced as soon as possible. And with my lit review due next Friday, I am drowning in work right now.
So, ah, expect more radio silence. Sorry. Here, have a picture:
(Stang End. With exposed cruck.)
