Monday, October 29, 2012

Capt. William Brown Breakthrough: Visiting the Old Pine Churchyard

During our last class meeting, everyone had an opportunity to present a blurb of information about their objects to Claire Sauro, who, in turn, provided some initial feedback and guidance for our research going forward. My initial research focused on my waistcoat's owner: Captain William Brown. My first examination of a collection of the last names of Philadelphia's colonial families resulted in little to no indication of who this man was, let alone his societal standing. As I mentioned in class, most of my information about Capt. Brown's existence in Philadelphia during colonial and revolutionary America came by way of advertisements in early-American newspapers (see image below for an example of The Pennsylvania General Advertiser, published April 13, 1779).
The Pennsylvania General Advertiser outs Capt. Brown as a tardy letter collector.
Because I was having just a difficult time finding information about Captain Brown, I made plans to travel into Philadelphia to visit Brown's grave and surrounding neighborhood to get a sense of where Brown lived. On Monday, October 22, I visited the Old Pine Street Church Yard located near Philadelphia's Society Hill. Admittedly an outsider, it became readily apparent that the houses (some still houses, others converted apartments) had a colonial vibe about them. A majority, if not all, of the streets and sidewalks were cobblestone. Lining these streets were row houses mainly constructed of brick (see below for example on Pine Street between 5th and 6th Street). 
According to a few web sources, Society Hill initially housed a number of local officials and wealthier families. Once local companies and industry spread westward (in the 19th century), so too did local elites and wealthier families looking to live closer to the migrating city-center. This all said, this migration occurred nearly 100 years after William Brown's death in 1808. This helps confirm Claire's initial deduction that this particular waistcoat, due mainly to the craftsmanship on the steel cut buttons, was owned by someone entrenched in the upper class. As Brown's grave lays in this area, it leads me to guess that he lived his days around this location. 

Upon arriving at the Old Pine Church Yard, I entered the empty grounds and began weaving in and out of the rows of colonial headstones. Weathering made it rather difficult to determine the occupant of each grave. Below are a number of photos I took while visiting the cemetery: 
Beyond the headstones is the Old Pine Presbyterian Church. 

This is a photo with my back to the church, facing 4th Street.

Any revolutionary soldier's grave is decorated with one of these colonial flags.

These headstone provide an example of the effects of weathering.
Although I was able to find headstones belonging to some people who died on or around 1808, I was not able to successfully locate William Brown's headstone. The trip to Society Hill and Old Pine Church Yard was informative because it confirmed Claire's suspicions about the societal status of the person who owned a waistcoat like this one. However, it was a little frustrating to not find any specific  information about Captain Brown. Before leaving, I left some contact information with the rectory in hopes of connecting with someone who knows a little more about Williams Brown then his propensity to be late in picking up his mail from the Post Office.

Not an hour later, Ronn Shaffer, a historian working with the Old Pine Church Yard cemetery connected with me and offered a lot of information about who Capt. Brown is what hand he had in a number of historical events. According to Shaffer's notes, Capt. Brown was a revolutionary service member and Captain in the colonial marines. Capt. Brown served under Gen. Washington during the General's famed crossing of the Delaware River on Christmas night. According to Shaffer, Capt. Brown's task was to defend the Pennsylvania boarder should Washington's campaign be unsuccessful. After its success, Capt. Brown and his men joined Washington in the Battles of Trenton and Princeton.

Needless to say, my trip to Old Pine Church Yard and subsequent conversation with Ronn Shaffer was beyond helpful in not only discovering the societal place of someone wearing a waistcoat similar to that of Capt. Brown, but also painted a clearer portrait of the extraordinary life of the waistcoat's owner. I plan to further discuss Capt. Brown with Shaffer this Friday and look forward to discovering more information about his life and documented role in Philadelphia history.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Fashion and Structure: Is there 'power' in the waistcoat?


In Fashioning the Bourgeoisie, Perrot navigates the class-infused (and enforced) fashion of France to its contemporary ancestors in our current closets and drawers. During this journey, Perrot ‘s discussion touches on the struggles of negotiating what fashion is for the bourgeoisie (or general upper class) and whether or not this fashion is attainable for the middle and working classes. At times it’s not; as the upper class was, by law, privy to the fashions most effectively able to display an elite cultural status. For example, in 18th century France we see restrictions against middle or working class members adorning lavish threading or ornamentation associated with upper class fashion   Early in the reading, Perrot points out that these laws existed because clothing gave “meaning” to its wearer. This commentary harkens back to last week’s reading, when Kirsh-Gimblett links dramaturgy and exhibitions. Although Kirsh-Gimblett focuses more on displaying findings in a museum, one notes the link between museum exhibit performance and societal performance as the participants in each attempt to act in a desired way. For the purposes of Perrot's discussion, this performance is, at times, a struggle for those lacking in means.
In repealing the fashion laws in France during the 18th century, Perrot notes a turning point in the upper class’ stranglehold on dictating high end fashion. After this point, popular clothing was determined by availability via department store and the rise in fashion journalism. These two addition appear to have worked in tandem to promote “short-term fashion,” a term that Perrot gives little value to in his discussion of fashion’s evolution. The author does, however, seem to devote more attention to social structure and technological advances as determinants of material fashion. For instance, in discussing a post-freedom of dress 18th century France, the author notes an “elaborat[e] … complex system of dress including aesthetics, hygiene, fashion, and propriety” enacted to keep the power of fashion in the upper class’ hands (p. 20). Although the author considers “short-term fashion” a myth, it seems that, despite not assisting fashion's evolution, the constant shuffling best served to assist the bourgeoisie simply because they could afford the constant changing. To this end, the structure of power remained in the upper class, as its members seemingly dictated what was (and was not) fashionable.

(Above is an example of Baudrillard's 
"absense of morality" through brightly 
colored material, p. 32.)
Although not French, my late 18th century waistcoat existed during this same period. The reading forces me to consider whether or not power was infused in colonial American dress during this same time. For instance, while I know the owner of my waistcoat was a “captain,” I wonder if wearing an ivory, satin waistcoat inherently displayed the status of a captain—if a captain in colonial America held any status at all. Additionally, while I know Captain Brown died at the age of 74, I wonder if the waistcoat was connotative of an older or more established individual in his Philadelphia community. In short, Fashioning the Bourgeoisie forced me to think beyond the man and the material and think about the structure of the individual’s community and what role the object served in satisfying a specific need.
Perrot’s detailed assessment of fashion’s evolution is helpful in identifying questions to add to the growing number in attaché case as I attempt to find information about the waistcoat in late 18th century Philadelphia. 

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Mediated Exhibition

As I mentioned in my first blog post, my background is in media studies. Therefore I was excited to noticed references to Marshall McLuhan (via Ken Yellis' article) and Neil Postman; two seminal scholars within the media ecology field. More on these two to follow later in this week's post.

This week's articles hone in on what makes museum visits a unique experience for a visitor. Yellis (2009) notes that, in his experience, the visitor typically attends museum exhibits looking "not so much for information, but for insight" (p.  340). This distinction indicates that exhibit viewers are somewhat informed prior to their visit. For this reason, Yellis places a premium on discovering a "new way of telling an old story" (p. 334). Relating this to our class exhibit, it seems Yellis' advice would be to research an exhibition (or exhibitions) of similar objects and question if there's another angle from which a story can be told.

Meaningful stories, according to Beverly Serrell, require forethought about doing it well. To this end, Serrell applies Postman's "five new narratives for redefining the value of schools" (p. 15). Although Serrell uses these narratives because they're novel (at the time of this book's 1996 publication), I'd argue that Postman's narratives work because they're different--precisely echoing Yellis' earlier suggestion of finding a new way of telling an old story.

Kirsh-Gimblett (1998) gives wide ranging examples of the evolution of the exhibit. Although some seem a bit extreme (live subjects?), Kirsh-Gimblett's examples invite the reader to consider museum exhibits as a Goffmanian dramaturgic event, where the viewer is an audience member and the exhibit a performer. This metaphor, however, comes with some warnings. Most immediately is the negotiation between "front region" and "back region." Without getting too involved with Goffman (and resultantly less involved with Kirsh-GImblett), I'll briefly describe front region as the face or mask the audience sees before them and the back region as all the other possible masks the performer has as performance options.

Thinking about front/back in terms of our class exhibit, the "front" is how I arrange the exhibit, what words I use in the label, and how this communicates something about both my object and me. The "back," or unseen parts of my self, still influences my description and arraigment of the object and, therefore, influences the exhibit visitor's interaction with the object. To me, this necessitates our class (and any exhibit curator for that matter) to consider the advice provided by this weeks authors (Parmon not included above, but still helpful suggestions). I'd like to end with a particularly helpful piece of advice from Yellis:
"All other reasons leave us potentially open to the three devastating questions no museum visitor should ever have to ask and which, if they are asked, make it guaranteed that the visitor experience will be unsatisfying at best: Why are they doing this? What kind of exhibition is this? And my personal favorite: Have I seen this exhibition before?"