End of another era

Serendipity Books is changing ownership. Peter Howard is leaving the business.

None of this is news to the bookseller community. For those outside that community, in short, Serendipity Books is recognized as one of the pinnacle examples of its kind in North America.

Times have been hard on archivists, so we take work where we can get it; we love what we do so we tend to orbit around "old" or "unique" or "fragile" stuff, be it books, photographs, maps, letters or postcards. It's how I ended up working for an antiquarian bookseller myself. It's how I found out about Serendipity Books.

During my two-and-a-half-hour visit, I heard Peter explaining a bit about what was going on: someone, and it certainly sounded like Peter didn't know or care who, had called up after finding the store online. The someone said they wanted to buy out the store. Peter put them in touch with his lawyers, and has washed his hands of the rest of the negotiations. He had no idea whether the new owners intended to keep him around or give him the boot, and he didn't seem to care either way. He'd even cherry-picked some of the genre's, spiriting away the best for his family members.

Even with Peter's awkward nonchalance and the knowledge that the collection held few if any true gems, it was worth the visit. It is a true misfortune that it was my first visit, as it was also my last. New ownership means change, and no matter how necessary or well-meaning the change is, it will destroy the fragile, organic collection that has been carefully and strategically cultivated over decades. I could have spent days there.

I snapped a few pictures while I was there. Click here if you'd like to take a look.

Due diligence vs Certification

In my previous job, due diligence was a hot-button for a particular collection we housed. The collection contained films for which the production houses have long since dissolved or been bought out, which made searching for copyright information practically impossible when added to a cultural and language barrier that mocked the Great Wall. When we wanted to show any of these films, or allow these films to be researched, technically all we (as the housing facility) had to do was "show due diligence"... but when it comes to matters of copyright, archivists can become very nervous very quickly if the rules are not laid out cleanly.

If we wanted to allow access to any of these films, the act of merely "showing due diligence" was not well defined: what kind of documentation must be kept on file in order to show that appropriate due diligence was exercised? It's assumed that such documents would have to be maintained in perpetuity by the housing facility; however what qualifies as a document: is it enough to keep the post-it notes that contained various international phone numbers (drafts) as well as a one-sheet in-house memo which quite simply compiles the information from these post-its with the added header "here's who we tried calling but only got disconnected phone lines"?

Again, due diligence has come up in my new (temporary?!) line of work: the forestry industry in British Columbia. Arguably one of the penultimate regions in North America where forestry is taken to the highest level of legislation and regulation. Today, it was discovered that the certification for Faller Supervisor is not actually required if an individual's certification has already been successfully issued and then expired - IF that individual can show due diligence to their effort to keep updated on the requirements of a Faller Supervisor. In fact, on-site audits are activity/performance based, and have nothing to do with checking certification of forestry workers on the job. The potential for exploitation of this little loophole bugs me. I see it as a money-grab pure and simple, but debate within the office suggests otherwise. One Faller Supervisor feels it's a good thing - that if he takes it upon himself to keep current and well-trained/informed, he can show due diligence if his certification comes into question.

The problem I see is that the verification of certification would not normally come into play until something goes wrong - at which point, the conflict arises primarily between the contracted faller and the company that hired said faller. Again, the issue is lack of clarification as to what sufficient documentation is with respect to showing due diligence. In an audit sense, that may be just an interview or conversation which proves the faller's knowledge; in a legal sense, documentation would be required to prove the process by which a faller performed due diligence.

So what? Among other implications and applications which extend beyond my own corporeal form, for me I've now been on both sides of the due diligence argument and have learned something very important from the two perspectives. When the cause was access to information, I'm all for due diligence. When the affect is the safety of workers, I'm not for due diligence.

Sometimes I wonder what's going to happen to our field when this recession is over. As it stands today, its generally accepted that the problem comes from several circumstances coming together at one point in time and space. We're experiencing a poor economy, funds are limited and when funds get limited, archives and libraries are the first to get the axe. Its already happened all over the place. The doors have closed, the records shipped off site, and the budget will no longer turn its gaze towards finding a curator to provide access, preservation, acquisition or any other procedures. For those that haven't yet closed, its only a matter of time.

There are still countless archival collections out there that are being run by a mighty staff of one - and that mighty singular intelligent identity has been fighting to maintain their mighty, underfunded projects for many years. When the time comes that this mighty singularity finally retires (because let's face it, who's jumping at the chance to retire in a recession?), the hosting organization will sense the loss at its greatest in the form of no longer having to listen to strong, articulated and compelling arguments as to why the funding must continue to be allocated for this particular resource of unique documents or unique collection of published material. And when they no longer have to face that argument, they will decide its best for everyone to close the doors and save some money.

There are a lot of qualified professionals in our field that are out of work. Many conversations I've had end with "one day, they'll retire and then we'll get our chance." I wonder how wrong that statement is. I wonder what will happen to all of these records and publications. In the next 3 years the economy will swing back upwards (we hope) and kudos to those of us who are employed when it does. But if we're all employed in the manner we expect because its the manner that has been handed down from the last living, intelligent, singular archivist or librarian - I'll eat my shoe.

What happens to all of these research materials when the budgets are finally cut? More importantly, how does this impact the future of research? There are those of us already discussing the Digital Dark Age, but what about the Analog Dark Age - the period when vast quantities of information were lost unto the knowing world not because of technological failure, but because of society's lack of dedication of the concept of memory, accountability, lineage? How will historians look back upon our time in 100 years? In 500? How will they quantify what's lost and the impact it has on what they will consider contemporary research?

Characteristics of a Pornographic Record

A record who's function is defined by its owner. Unlike a birth certificate, which remains a certificate of one individuals birth regardless of who owns it. A newspaper is the same in that regardless of who owns a particular printing of a newspaper, it is by definition a newspaper and nothing more. A map, is a map, regardless of who's holding it, and whether they're holding it right side up.

Conversely, moving images with sound depicting two people engaged in a game of Twister while clothed in only their birthday suits can have very different functions. If this film is under the ownership of a film-maker, it is regarded as art. If it is under the ownership of a collector of films that portray naked people doing, well, anything, then its a pornographic record. A still image of a woman's genitalia is a medical record when it is an official record of the placement of freckles on a humans body and it is owned by a dermatologists office. That same picture owned by John Q Public, is a pornographic record. I don't have to detail the difference between images of young children that are owned by their parents versus adults who are not in any way related to the child; the function of records which have the potential to be labeled as pornographic changes the classification f the record itself as the owner of that record changes.

The implication is that the act of recording sexual activity, sexual body parts or the naked human form is not what is devious; it is the ownership of such material which implies an inherent devious behaviour. Thus is it also implied that those persons participating in the act of creating pornographic records are not as devious as those owning those same records? And if those participants are not the devious record makers, is this not a source of support to the argument that pornographic records are just as valuable as any other recorded unit of information which is bestowed with the proud title of a "record", and thus, worthy of archival processing?

Cross-blogging with Loculamenta.

It has been graciously pointed out that my last post regarding the Grateful Dead collection at UCSC may have been barking up the wrong tree. In part, this is due to the relatively small amount of audio material that is contained in the acquisition in question; the bulk of the collection appears to be paper based. Ok, I can live with that. My questions regarding the digitization facilities still stand, but that's more attributable to my over-protective audio-visual archival tendencies than UCSC's own in-house capabilities.

Still there is something bugging me: this "social component." Does an academic institution have any place meddling in the world of open-source tagging? Again, I'm jumping ahead, but I'm comparing the type of social component that is supported by projects like Steve.Museum. I would argue this method works well for orphaned museum artifacts, but does this method suitably fit the academic institution's model for housing (and making available to researchers) archival material.

In a nutshell, is not the penultimate difference between museums and archives the genesis of the concept of context and provenance? In museums, artifacts re-discover old and new contexts in exhibitions; in archives context and provenance are carefully guarded against the affects of entropy through the maintenance of intellectual control. Where does social tagging fit into intellectual control? Or does it not, instead only finding a suitable fit in the realm of access? If the later is the case, then are we not at risk of repeating a pattern that we have already condemned as a "no-no": when digitization projects became so prevalent, the original argument from the profession was that these projects should be supported as a means of alternate access. The practicality of that notion having been shot down, the new method is to use digitization as a means to support preservation and thus access as well.

I'm all for getting the public involved in the "behind the scenes" of archives especially because any chance to get the public interested in archival material, research, history, culture... the list goes on. But if the cost is potentially alienating certain documents or items while others' status is raised over the rest, then the entire exercise is counter to traditional archival methodologies. I don't see how this could be beneficial in the long run.

The Grateful Dead Rise Again

Cross blogging with Loculamenta.

(Author's note: Alex, can you post some of the links to the original announcements re: this collection and its funding donation? See the comments to my previous post on this subject for the reason why).

User populations and policing of content are always of paramount importance to an archive, because if only for the most simplistic of purposes, your users and your content are why you exist, and why you will continue to exist. If you don't support your user's needs or appropriately manage your content, your archive will cease to function, and soon cease to exist. But getting to the point where we can focus on user populations and the policing of user-updated content skips over a few key steps in the process of digitizing any cultural artifact, whether for preservation or access (or ideally both!).

I'm curious if the questions that guide the first analysis of the Grateful Dead funding and digitization project should be focused more on ... well, the digitization!

The problem with this kind of simplified approach is that it is at risk of cutting out the sexy social component, which is pretty much the buzz word (or phrase?) in the profession right now. But I wonder, with approximately 1.25 million dollars available and backing a name like the Grateful Dead, to what extent should this particular user group have an increased social component, particularly when discussed within the context of the rest of UCSC’s holdings? For example, I was curious what kind of audio preservation resources are available at UCSC already; operating under the assumption that the facilities must in some way exist for this material to be properly and best handled at this specific institution (else, why wouldn’t this material have gone to Stanford?) I did a basic Google search using the words “audio”, “preservation” and “UCSC.” Not only is there no facility that comes up within the first three pages of Google’s produced results (which is farther than your normal Google search-user will look), but the first link that shows up was this article: "UCSC receives gift of rare audio interviews and photos of late '60s jazz and rock icons".

Considering that both collections are liable to house un-published information on a variety of overlapping themes, issues, concepts, people and events (to name a few!), my immediate reaction to this is: Why shouldn’t some of this funding include bolstering access for both collections? Wouldn’t this constitute a social component? When we look at the “social component” and we skip right to our users as a primary source of key information, I argue that we are not only taking the professional responsibilities out of our own hands, but we are de-valuing those professional responsibilities we have on a broadly reaching scale.

I say “kudos!” to UCSC for getting an un-thinkable amount of funding to handle one collection; but you now want me to agree that a critical part of this funding must be dedicated to an un-controlled, un-known, un-attached “social component” that will in no way directly link to any of the rest of the institution’s mandated responsibilities? Good luck with that.

My searches so far have yielded very little information on the actual facilities available for audio preservation of original recordings into digital format. I am aware the UCSB has some formidable audio preservation resources, but I am also aware that these resources are largely dedicated to wax cylinders and vinyl discs, and I doubt that many of the Grateful Dead recordings were ever done on wax; though a large portion was likely recorded to vinyl. If you're outside the business, then you'd assume that the two UC campuses would work together on this - lending the resources of one lab to the collection resources of another archive. You would assume wrongly, for two important reasons: 1) Academic environments in the public sphere are always under-funded and over-worked - if the money isn't going to UCSB, then UCSB isn't about to take on the risk of wear and tear on their machines for records that they will not be owning; 2) archival material does not travel off-site! EVER!

This means that the entire collection will arrive to UCSC and sit there, awaiting the proper machines to not only digitize, but to playback the original records. The field of audio recordings is arguably more complex than that of moving images (ok, I mostly just make this statement to piss off the film buffs out there that are paying attention. Kudos, you're paying attention. Now accept that audio records are just as if not more unique than your own precious film holdings.). Take for example the Harvard Audio Preservation Studio. Their listing of equipment is nice to see, but its far from extensive. The University of Toronto's Media Archive boasts a similar listing of equipment on their site; again it is far from complete. Part of the budget for each of these institutions must include continual efforts to purchase playback machines which will properly play audio recordings (failure to use proper playback equipment of any audio-visual record will result in the destruction of the content and/or physical record, which is counter-productive in the most primitive of situations).

Throughout all of this, the point I’m trying to make is: how do we look at this “social component” realistically? Do we apply the concerns for a social component only to one collection? Now that the collection is officially an acquisition, I want to know that its existence will be in harmony with the rest of the institution’s holdings, instead of its existence being paramount to all of the holdings (and the resources dedicated to them) that came before it. To be sure, if it weren’t for the institution’s pre-existing collections and their collection mandate, then this new acquisition for UCSC would have had no archival social component that would have brought it under their management in the first place.

Canadian Pop Culture as a matter of historical record

The University of Toronto's Media Commons' Archive is Canada's home for popular culture and mass-media archival records and documents; everything from television and film productions, journalists and great journalistic achievements, recording studios and rare vinyl records, media production companies, advertising companies and prolific members of this vast Canadian media culture are all represented there in one form or another.

To my understanding, there have been a few direct influences that have come from the archival and cultural fabric of Canada which can be identified as the reason this archive exists at all. The proliferation of a/v records and documents (which is inherent to the nature of a/v materials) coupled with technology's endless appetite for discovering the next market-swaying recording format, has resulted in archival collections which are physically large with respect to box count or surviving record. Sadly, there is never enough room to house this material indefinitely; especially when the statistics on access are less than ideal.

The Canadian government has slowed its acquisitions to a near standstill, while in the meantime, Canadian popular culture is still producing valuable, culturally-reflective products. The CBC as well has moved away from long-term storage of original a/v document formats: their current goal is to digitize everything they can in their storage in order to reduce its size, and ultimately the rent they are paying (or inversely to regain their own precious real estate which is dedicated to helping old archival records collect dust).

The Media Commons' Archive is actively going after archival material, but their real estate can't last forever. In the meantime, there are one or two collections which come to mind as fitting nowhere in any of the preceding collecting (or digitizing and destroying) mandates. These collections would be those that are not old enough to be considered historically or culturally significant; archival materials generally have to be at the very least 3-5 years old before they can be assessed to have significant, lasting impact on Canadian culture. There are also those collections which fall between the collection mandate cracks because they are in part produced by CBC, which is government funded (and we've already discussed the current situation there), or by American broadcasting/production/distribution companies, such as Show Time.

In the meantime, valuable collections are ... where? That's really the crux of the problem, isn't it? Media magnates are highly incestuous: pre-distribution copies of productions in whole or part are frequently passed around between companies for a variety of reasons, resulting in the existence of these documents in disparate ways and numbers, sprinkled throughout Canadian recorded history. But where are the bulk of these collections that parented these odd orphaned records? And what are the plans of those who currently are responsible for those records?

The two collections I have in mind while I monologue these concerns.... "Kenny v Spenny" and "Trailer Park Boys". Individually, you may love, hate or have never heard of these two productions. But, nationally and arguably more significantly internationally, these two productions have exposed contemporary Canadian popular culture across the globe. And yet, in light of the current collecting mandates, acquisition complexities and cultural appraisal methodologies, I do wonder what will be available for research and study in 100 years, when the mass-market dvds are digital leftovers and the 'how' and 'why' become of paramount significance.

The scenario so far: UC Santa Cruz has received a grant that is to be used to focus digitization efforts on their newly acquired collection: The Grateful Dead Archive.

At first blush, this is pure excitement. Possibilities seem endless. Original sound recordings that have never before been migrated from their original format that will finally enjoy playtime to whatever audience is available through digital information highways. On second thought, and after a little research, boundaries appear out of nowhere and constraints become a bit more than prevalent.

For example:

1) The Internet Archive already has an extensive listing of Grateful Dead material that is freely available to anyone with an internet connection. Thus the question becomes, what is there in UCSC's collection which is not already available via the Internet Archive? Perhaps more to the point, how does anyone get an idea of the differences in unique audio records without getting to look at the listing?

2) If UCSC's collection contains duplicates of the IA collection, how can the UCSC material be presented in way that brings more traffic to UCSC's site, and equally more research traffic to the UCSC archive in its totality. Would a comparison between proposed metadata and that metadata which is used by IA bring to light enough discrepancies that would warrant an entire digitization project? Aren't the funds being geared towards digitization, and not data entry? Yes, we're dealing with unique material; that doesn't mean a highly qualified, expertly skilled information professional will be needed for the entire duration of the project, ... or does it?

Without delving too deeply into related material, these are the 'shoot from the hip' reactions. Time for a little further investigation.

Re-visiting an old thought

This is an article abstract that a colleague and I wrote together almost one year ago, in an effort to get our perspective published in a special printing of Archivaria, which was to be focusing on Queer Archives. To date, nothing more has been done with this article abstract. All that this abstract represents are the thoughts and casual debates between two Information Professionals (one an archivist, the other a librarian) who happen to be very passionate about concepts of scholarship and the definitions of pornography; and the overlap between the two.

In the history of archival scholarship, numerous studies have focused on the specific function records and documents in society, such as medical records, legal dockets and architectural drawings; however there are no equivalent studies in quantity or breadth that focus on sex – those documents which are created to record the act of, the discussions about or social perspectives on sex and sexuality. This article focuses on the relationship between archival theory and practice and pornography.

We begin with an examination of available archival scholarly research focusing on alternative sexualities within mainstream sexual studies; then note the differences in primary source materials available for both alternative (LGBT, etc.) sexualities and mainstream sexualities (specifically in terms of quantity, accessibility, and quality of resources). This leads to an examination of archival theory and practice in relation to what are considered erotic or pornographic records and materials, which are often not recognized as significant cultural artefacts in their own right, and thus may be removed from a fond or collection as an ‘irrelevance’.

We will demonstrate that there are inconsistencies in archival values and practice by examining a sexually explicit collection. Our discussion thus focuses on the ways in which pornographic materials, and by proxy, alternative sexual records (LGBT, BD/SM, etc) are assessed, appraised, and made accessible within archives, and how such materials are addressed by current archival theory. The collection in question is the Max Allen collection, which is owned by the Center for Sexual Diversity Studies at the University of Toronto. We will discuss the nature of the collection with respect to archival science/theory; examine the history of the collection; and look at the acquisition of the collection.

The collection presents a number of interesting contradictions such as: the paradox between the potential for pornographic material to be the most prevalent form of record creating genre while being the least prevalent form of record keeping genre with respect to a society’s cultural and heritage institutions. The collection also presents a number of commonalities between archival studies and sexual studies such as the fact that both scholarly fields have a strong sense of marginalization within democratic societies, albeit for vastly different reasons. By this method of analyzing differences and similarities, the article exposes the censorship and bias that affects pornographic collections (for example, the classification of materials as “pornography” generally stigmatizes them, and thus equates them with records of no redeemable value).

Finally, the article reaches two conclusions: First, that the potential for primary resource research in the field of queer studies would be positively affected by re-examination of how pornographic materials or sexually explicit materials should be viewed as cultural materials in their own right allowing sexuality studies to occur within a context – not as an isolated factor; and second, with respect to sexual diversity studies, and thus queer studies, there is a pressing need for further archival scholarly research into stated values of context, democracy, and uniqueness.

The MMORPG and Me.

Argument:
An MMO RPG is a strong contemporary example of a library, archive (and museum?) and IS coming together to create a universe within which a user operates & interacts with both the content and other users to create a unique experience grounded in a functioning universe with its own set of rules, ethics, moral codes, vocabularies, languages and forms of personal expression.

And:
We know this model works/functions in a concrete example: there are "cultural centers" which incorporate a library, archive and museum all in the same physical building in order that the activities of one "institution" are supported by (or support) the activities of one or both of the other two.

Question:
To what extent does the model actually work in real life? Are there statistics that support the argument that this model is better than the stand alone version of an archive, library or museum?

Question:
In what ways can a study of an MMO RPG through the lens of an information professional offer new perspectives on fairly old concepts of information management, i.e. librarianship and archiving. (N.B. this assumes that the only real advances in the management of information in libraries and archives (and museums?) has been the implementation of database systems, both relational and 'flat file', which alone have arguable positive influences on how any of these institutions functions within the breadth of society. Example: as the book ceases to be physical and continues to move toward the digital, how are libraries dealing with new opportunities, if they even know they exist? Could MMO RPGs offer perspectives that would enable the understanding of new opportunities?)

Archival irony - pt 1

Digital is everywhere. The book is no longer a physical object, and print, while not yet dead (imagines a faint British accent crying out "I'm not dead yet! I'm gettin' bettah!") has most definitely seen better days. Where does the future of archives fit into all this mess?

On the one side, global economies are in flux which means old markets have to be streamlined and re-vamped, while new markets have to be discovered and allowed blossoming time. Niche markets are where archives are headed, whether they realize it or not. Film archives, photograph archives, digital archives, culturally/ethnically/religously/genre-oriented archives... utilizing one central concept as a source of strength is certainly a reasonable marketing stragety.

Consider, though, how each and every archive operates, in one way or another, completely independantly from all the rest. The most important individualizing characteristic: budget. "Its our money, ergo we'll spend it how and where we like." This is a reasonable statement.

And yet, I am left wondering, what happens to all of the unifying historical information and data that is segregated and celled in separate locations, with separate governing policies, separated by staff, by priviledge, and by geography.

Within the history of archival arrangement - photography has lead an interesting life. When photographic documents were first beginning to be treated seriously as a readable document, the archival profession was not all in agreement as to how these new records should be dealt with. Where would they be stored? Their physical and chemical make-up was identified to be different enough from textual documents, as were the skills needed to read/interact with these documents. These differences were enough to warrant strong arguments for different preservation tactics and methodologies.

Due to this argument, a trend developed wherein all material that was identified as photographic in nature was physically separated from its context and surrounding content, and placed within the context of other similar documents. Arguments were very strong from within the professional, practicing community that photographic documents must be treated with the same attention and care and resources as textual material; unfortunately the argument at the time strongly favoured physical separation with no consideration to intellectual control. In reflection, best practices and standards for archives now incorporate a sensibility for the duality of that paradigm: upholding format-based preservation duties means a constant awareness for and maintenance of the original context.

Reflecting now upon that approach, I am curious how some of the same patterns will emerge, and how will they affect efforts to approach new media, in particular video games, such as mmorpg's. By approaching the format as something that is 'new' instead of approaching an evolving technology with a particular sensibility for previous reactions to new or evolving technologies, what patterns are going re-emerge that the archival community has previously encountered, analyzed and ... shelved?

By approaching a new media as though it is 'different' or 'segregated' and therefore requires whole new paradigms and critical analyses, is a dis-service being done to previous scholarly work as well as to future archival holdings?

Dungeons and Dragons archive?

I've recently stumbled across the open-source System Reference Documents for v3.5 DnD. After the recent lecture I attended at my Alma Mater Studorium (see last post), this has really got my thinking. DnD is a paper-based game, always has been. Where is the DnD archive? What has the DnD archive done to preserve internet-based documents?

(note: this was drafted in February 2009)

Thoughts on a recent lecture I attended

I recently attended a lecture at my Alma Mater Studorium which was given by a Megan Wignet who is currently working on her PhD at the University of Texas, Austin. Her general focus is on video-game archiving.
What follows is a combination of two things:
1) My notes as I was interpreting and scribbling during the lecture (in bold)2) My reactions to the notes I made, as well as the gist of the lecture (in italics)
I am writing out these things here because I hope to spill out some ideas and potentially encourage discussion, there is no other goal.

Thoughts on Megan Winget presentation January 28, 2009
Topic: Challenges & Current Practices in Game-Related Collections
Video game as: Cultural Artifact; Significant cultural industry; Entertainment medium
Also – social network medium; hobby (non-social activity) ?

Having an impact on cultural output by changing the nature of society – but I ask how?
Is it really changing the nature of society , or are the tools we use to shape culture and society evolving such that the old rules/standards/practices no longer are sufficient for applications to new media – such as video games, film, music

Digital Preservation – General Strategies:
Viewing problem – Migration; Emulation
Documentation issue (metadata)
What about issues of:
Confidence/privacy affecting abilities to gather statistics

I am curious what the history of archiving games looks like – and how would a review of this history affect/impact efforts to archive video games?
How will this perspective affect the theory and practice of archives?
Are we going to start saving every document simply by fact that it is extant?

In response to the statement “We have noticed that the concept of ‘fun’ has changed [over the past 10 years of gaming]” (as an example of the rapid changes occurring in the industry/media): I would argue that the concept of “fun” has not changed that significantly over the past thousands of years of human thought; similarly the concept of a game is one of the oldest recorded forms of social interaction. I would argue instead that the speed, rules and playability of games are now bound and limited by technology in ways we do not yet fully understand or are able to describe/see the full repercussions of – leaving me to wonder, is there a new media paradigm shift that has not yet been perceived?
So in my mind the question is not how has fun changed, but how has technology’s ability to represent games/concepts/events/etc affected social and cultural behaviour? Which games are then the benchmarks for these social/cultural/behavioural changes? Is it the game or is it the technology? This question seems to be critical – there are countless examples of ways in which technology has impacted upon culture/history/society so as to shape it in some way – are there examples of a game having the same affect?
Take the ball game for example – this is a sport that was played by an ancient Central American culture (shame I can’t remember which one at the moment). Sadly, most of the rules of the game are gone, and the intricacies of how to play as well as evidence of the experience is long lost to this world – and yet those who study the culture of these particular people are very aware of the significance this game had in their culture and society because representations of the game have survived.


Take choose-your-own-adventure books for example – the purpose of the book is to create an experience out of what is essentially a product. Are librarians charged with recording every version of the experience?

So where is this leading the theoretical/practical aspects of the profession – what can be reflected back upon our methods in an effort to change/improve/evolve?
Are we going down the path of assumption that simply because a document exists it is worth preserving? If document creation is a default by-product of contemporary tech-based media, are archivists responsible for documenting every single one?
An interesting observation was made regarding the natural dichotomy in the concepts of art and intent, and the new technological necessity that the two are somehow married – end result is incredibly curious for, if art is intent, then defining the intent is to re-define the art, or to nullify the true meaning of the conceptual piece. Again, this, to me, hints to the fact that the affects of the paradigm shift are not yet comprehensively appreciated.
There seems to be a universal media archive issue: dealing largely with popular culture means answering to questions about placing significant cultural/social/historical value in the context of something so young, evolving and baring the stigma that is somehow inherently peripheral to other significant forms of expression such as films, museums exhibitions, etc perhaps due to its firm grasp within cult/minority cultures. Thus the issue: how do we deal with this? What new methods must be developed? Old solutions will not universally apply to new problems.

One of the joys of my job is the constant discovery of things that aren't there, and how telling that can be. Sounds ludicrous, I know. Allow me to digress...

One of our collections contains the original production files for a small variety of film productions. We have anything from a couple to close to a dozen boxes for each title, and the contents of the boxes does generally produce a similar set of file titles - camera reports, cast/crew list, daily production reports, script drafts, production scripts, editors scripts, continuity files, etc. To any student or professional in the field of film, television, or advertising production, these titles will sound extremely familiar to the setting of a motion picture production.

As a student of languages and art history (2D still images primarily), most of these titles were quite foreign to me when I began listing the files of said collection, but after going through a relatively small percentage of the film production files a familiar set of titles was prominent in almost every box. Almost. One particular film falls directly in the 'genre' (if there is one) of contemporary blaxploitation insomuch as the all the elements of the film (plot, characters, dialogue, music) produce a purely stereotype representation of black people regardless of the target audience. The production files for this particular film totaled 3 bankers boxes - which within the context of the rest of the collection is on par with what would be expected of a B-rated film produced by said collection's company. In the boxes were files with the same titles as I expected to find by the time I was listing it - but they were much thinner than I expected. Further investigation revealed that in a number of those files, there were merely a few blank photocopies of forms whose titles matched those of the files (i.e blank daily production report forms were found in the daily production reports file).

I pose this next question will full understanding and awareness that I have no experience with motion picture production, merely the archiving of it: How can you expect to make a film that isn't a total piece of cultural trash without keeping some kind of record of what everyone is doing?

So where's the discovery, you're asking. Get to the freaking point already, you're saying, if you've managed to get this far at all. I'm close I promise.

According to accepted archival best practices and standards, it is generally a wise idea to purge those 'things' in our collections which have no unique information on them (space is and always will be a premium, alas). These blank forms have nothing on them that isn't recorded elsewhere, in fact some of these forms are an industry standard so they will be in every other box of film production records and documents that we have. Logically, what would be the point in keeping these blank files as no researcher in their right mind would go searching for 'the' prime examples of industry standard film production forms in the files of a production they've either never heard of or would rather they hadn't? If all the files in the boxes were just blank forms why keep them at all? Technically there is almost no record of the production of this particular film. Almost.

The two largest quantities of records in the boxes were continuity Polaroids and product placement files. Ah, the product placement files. In this case, these particular files were overstuffed with legal agreements with large product-driven companies. The continuity Polaroids capture images of mostly female cast members* in skimpy clothes or snapshots of portions of a scene where a particular product would be placed. Without a doubt, these are worth keeping, and their value is heightened by the sheer lack of anything other usable record of the production. And there is the discovery.

The blank files were kept, along with the rest of the Polaroids and product placement files. They will "forever" remain together - so that somewhere else down the line, the discovery is there for someone else to make.

*footnote - Whether the images of girls in skimpy outfits being the predominant still image record of the cast during production is a reflection of marketing/production values or is merely a reflection of the main cast's ownership over their own images, I do not know.

Finder of lost gems

I love to find things for other people. The look on people's faces when they see something they were searching for - the sense of recognition, obvious elation and the reflection of the memories across someones face as they begin to interact (perhaps once more?) with whatever it was they asked me to find.

I have a precious early memory of this very experience involving my grandmother. I would spend most of my afternoons with her as my parents worked late. Tutu (grandmother in Hawai'ian and the way she preferred to be referenced) would pick me up and take me to her house where I'd get to snack on coke and M&Ms while watching the almighty cable television networks. In the evenings we'd play cards together.

Well Tutu had a lot of jewelery, as I suppose lots of grandmothers will tend to do. One day when she picked me up, she was quite upset. She had lost something and spent all day searching for it. It was a pair of diamond earrings, with two sets of 'jacks' (one a ring of emeralds and the other three diamonds that hung vertically). She could remember exactly what they looked like, and even the exact size, shape and colour of the box she kept them in but for all of her efforts she couldn't find these earrings anywhere. What distressed her the most was that these earrings had been in the family for a generation or two, so losing them was akin to disrespecting ancestors.

I was known to go pawing through all of my Tutu's jewelery drawers, with her permission of course. She had some really great stuff from big baubles to gaudy plastics to fine gold chains to costume jewelery that made me look like a princess. And I always put everything back exactly where I had found it, that was the deal. I could look at any of Tutu's jewelery as long as I put it back right where I found it. This was an incredibly special relationship for me because unlike my parents, she never hovered over me or constantly reminded me to be careful. It was assumed I knew how to be gentle, and all she requested was that I respect her order when I moved things about. That was the only way she could find them later, if I put them back right where I found them.

But for all of my previous permitted snooping, I had never seen these earrings and had no clue what she was talking about. No image was coming to mind. I had never seen 'jacks' for earrings and only knew that somehow they 'attached' to the single diamond studded posts. I felt awful because I couldn't help her in any way, and of anyone I was in the best position to do so.

So fast forward a couple of days and its another lovely afternoon when I should be outside but I'm inside watching cable and sipping on a coke out of a Strawberry Shortcake tumbler. This afternoon, Tutu came to me with a request I'd gotten before: she wanted me to open one of her safes so she could get at something. She had two, and both were low on the ground and in less-than-optimal lighting. Kneeling was difficult for her at this point in her life and her eyes were not great, so it was a snap for me to help her and I was happy to do it. Plus how often to kids to get open safes? Big fun!

There I am, on my knees in front of this little safe, and just as she's trying to tell me the numbers and direction to turn the dial, I spot something under a chair close by. Its a small, brown, velvet box... a classic jewelery box. I snapped it up and having never seen it before, turned to my Tutu and said, "Tutu, what's this?"

"OH MY GAWD" she said in a voice that I can still hear if I close my eyes. It was the diamond posts, and the 'jacks' too. They had been in the very safe I was trying to open, and must have fallen out a week or so before while she was searching for something else. In the dim light, she never saw them hiding in the shadows, practically in plain sight.

I saw how happy she was to know these earrings were safe. I vividly remember a sense of relief that came over her instantly. I also remember the stories she started to tell me about these earrings, stories she had never told me before probably because the object in question was never in sight to remind her of them.

Its not a great story by any means, but it is a truly precious memory to me. It is the first memory I have of being helpful by doing what I love to do and tend to do best: finding things. Its important to me to recall that memory at times when I feel incredibly bogged down by the basic, technical work that I'm faced with lately. Too much lifting boxes, building boxes, transferring material from one box to another, listing that material, fixing the old listing of that material... it makes me frustrated and leaves me feeling incredibly lonely. I think of my Tutu when work drags me down because I am happy to know that I'm helping someone. I will never see the faces of the people I'm helping, but I can remember my Tutu's booming voice and sincere smile. Someday, it will be the booming voice of someone else, and think of the stories they will tell then!

A snipet of interest

I found this today while going through a box of material being prepared for a donation. I'm not sure the version I found was 'true' but it makes sense the way I found it. It makes reference to a particular deity; however replace that name with the one of your choice and the overall message remains the same. I do not know who this man was, nor what his role in this world was. I do wonder if he wasn't perhaps an archivist.

As the wise men have not spoken
I speak, who am only a fool
But a fool that hath loved his folly,
Aye more than the wise their book
Or their counting houses of their quiet homes
Or their fame in the mouths of men.

A fool that in all his days
Hath done never a prudent thing
I have squandered the splendid days
That the Lord God gave to my youth
In attempting impossible things
Deeming them alone worth the toil
O Lord, if I had those years
I would squander them over again.
Aye, fling them from me!

For this I have heard in my heart,
That a man shall squander not hoard
Shall do the deed of today
Not take heed of tomorrow's ten
Shall not bargain or huckster with God.

The Lawyers have met in council:
The men with the long keen faces
And have said, "This man is a fool."
And others have said, "He blasphemeth."

For the wise have pitied the fool
Who had striven to give a life
In this world of Time and Space
Among the bulks of actual things
To a dream that was dreamed in the heart
And that only the heart could hold.

-Padraigh Pearse

My "date" with Max Allen

I am just arriving home from an impromptu interview between my colleague Allison Larsh, myself and Max Allen. What an overwhelming experience. The man can speak about art history, censorship, popular culture, pornography, librarians… you name it. I felt like I didn’t want to leave in case he said something else that no one else has ever written.

One gets the feeling that Allen has written a large volume of material, and equally that no one else has written a large volume of material about Allen himself. Someday he will be viewed as a pioneer in the evolution of censorship in academic environments. Today, he was a gracious host, a charming personality, a truly unique character and likely one of the most straight-shooting people I’ve ever met.

I found it to be particularly inspiring learning that Allen was born an American. Perhaps someday, I could possess the worldly class and genuine charisma of the man I met today. I still can’t believe I’m one of the lucky two people in the world who has seen his archival collection and his personal collection.

Above all, I have renewed faith in the concept of a ‘donor.’ Never again will I be so formal in my approach. Max told me that isn’t the way to get it done. And I believe him.

Who I Am

Some people are meant for great things: accomplishments, culture-shifts, historical events. These are our heroes and our villains. Their lives help tell the tales we teach each other today in order to help understand both ourselves and our relationships.

I am not meant to be a hero or a villain. I am merely a custodian. I will care for the records which provide value and depth to our understanding of the world around us. I will not show privledge or bias on the basis of my own judgements; I will let the biases of society and culture provide me with what it will, and I will care for all of it with equal respect to the utmost of my ability. I will care for all records, regardless of format, because the manuscripts of Atwood are as important as Egoyan's camera original negatives or Model's prints.

I will probably fade from history's memory within a few generations of my family. I will not find the cure for cancer, end the "conflict" (war) in the Middle East, bring any culture to the peak or bowels of its potential along my way through life. But while I am here I believe I can be of the most appropriate, constructive use to society by being its custodian for the documentary remains of heroes and villains. It is who I am - I am an archivist.

Being overwhelmed

I'll admit I am overwhelmed.

Many of my classmates have already turned in the keys to their locker and said "so long!" to this building. Some of us have even found employment for the short and long-term.

I'm still in this building. I'm still slugging it out in my job as a contracted records manager. Everyday I see the faculty and staff that so many of my classmates are already forgetting about.

Its makes me laugh a little - such is the life of the archivist! Most people have forgotten about the documents and records that we handle by the time we get our white-gloved hands on them. This is partially what overwhelms me - I have not had a break and I have not felt a release from this place yet. I feel like although my capacity has shifted from student to employee, I'm still interacting with people based on my understanding of and relationship with them as a student.

There is also the naturally overwhelming characteristic of a bulk of unwieldy material. Entropy has occurred and chaos now blossoms from what once was order. The physical and the intellectual collide constantly in a battle that, in my mind, resembles the relationship between the ocean and the shoreline. The ocean will continue to bash away at the shoreline, and its progress while measurable will be slow. The shoreline will continue to be there to complete the physics equation in which every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Small signs are evident of the effect these two colossal fighters have on one another - the shoreline will degrade over time and the sand will cloud the otherwise pure water. The ocean is the intellectual side of archiving - somewhat more mailable than the shoreline, constantly seeking to be level in the ultimate reflection of balance between the air and the water. The shoreline is the physical side of archiving - it can be affected by hard-nosed intellectual decisions but it is what it is: heaping, endless mounds of stuff.

That was a long, mostly useless metaphor but its been in my head all day and now its out. Deal with it. Plus, thinking of this "stuff" (c'mon y'know I wanna say crap) like that makes me less frustrated with all of it. It is what it is.

Feeling overwhelmed by work is not a bad thing, it simply means I'm busy doing what I love. But now that school is over, being overwhelmed by the success of my classmates is a definite distraction I'm having to cope with.