Indians, Archives, Friends, Oh My!

Yesterday morning we were off to the Cultural Resource Center of the NMAI in Suitland, MD, where all the Native American items or belongings (they purposefully do not use object, much less artifact, since most tribes consider their important possessions to have life and agency in some form) are kept. Repatriation is a part of NMAI's mission, but as we've learned, not all tribes are interested in taking their stuff back, for reasons ranging from lack of money to the sheer pride that their items are in Washington. What the CRC provides is space for tribes to visit their items and perform any ceremonies that they might wish to, including ritually "feeding" ancestor statues with pollen, smudging with sage, etc. They have both an outdoor ritual space and an indoor one, and then an airplane-hangar-sized facility that is designed in the shape of a spiral. They explained that their Native architects were looking for a symbol that would speak best to all Indians in the hemisphere (NMAI includes native peoples from North and South American, not just the US), and the spiral was the one that was shared most broadly.

The largest piece they have in storage is a 45-foot totem pole:

In the conservation lab, we talked to the conservators about their process of working with tribal members to learn their best practices for conservation, which might not always match the industry standard. They showed us two 16th-century pieces from Mexico that they're studying the materials of. The thin one to the right is a chronicle of sorts, covering roughly 1430 to 1530, and is on a kind of paper.  A series of blue dots along the right edge each indicate a year, and there's pictographic recording of information along with some Nahuatl inscriptions. At the top is a depiction of the first encounter with the Europeans (identifiable because they have swords). The bigger piece is a kind of map recording the migration of various tribes. It's on a woven support, and they were explaining how among their investigations was analyzing the pigments to see if the blues of the hills was in fact indigo, which it was. 

We looked at some items, including a Lakota war shirt and a eagle-feather headdress, that will sub in for items currently on display in the "Americans" exhibit once those need to rest in five years or so, and talked with the collections manager about the difficult process of building relationships and trust with tribes like the Lakota who had viewed the Smithsonian with great suspicion. We also talked to the archivist, who had laid out a selection of documents and photographs, including a very moving letter from 1941 from a Native woman and civil rights activist to the governor of Alaska protesting the "no Natives allowed" signs on shops. She mentioned how horrified they were at similar treatment of Jews in Germany, another reminder that people in the US, even all the way in Alaska, had a sense that something terrible was happening in Europe. Finally, we went into the "stacks," which are organized by tribe and by region rather than by type of object. In the "northern woodlands" section I saw the stacks housing items belonging to the Connecticut tribes, which was cool.

From there the bus stopped at the Mall for anyone who wanted to get off, so I went to have lunch at the NGA cafe and spent some time admiring van Eyck's Annunciation, which is temporarily housed on the lower level.

The level of detail is just extraordinary--and it's flanked by two other roughly contemporaneous Flemish artists as if to show that van Eyck was a cut above his fellows. Also on the lower level was a small exhibition dedicated to images of the moon from the time photography was invented through the most recent images. They had a small screen showing the launch of Apollo 11, the landing, and the return of the astronauts, and I realized I've never seen anything more than the iconic "first step" clip. Sara told me that there will apparently be another moon mission in NASA's future called Artemis. I wonder what they're still hoping to learn from the moon after all this time, as opposed to Mars or other destinations?

From the NGA, I tried to visit the Sculpture Garden, but it was just too freaking hot, so I went into the National Archives instead, another visit I remember from 1998. It was afternoon, so there was no line in the Rotonda where the foundation documents are, but I was disappointed to realize that they're so faded as to be entirely illegible! From the "Public Archives" gallery, I learned that that happened within a couple of decades, which led to the commissioning of an engraved copperplate copy that printed an initial run of 200 copies for federal offices and the families of the still-living signers. I'd be interested to know what ink they had available here then, because you can read medieval and Renaissance documents that are still perfectly readable on vellum or paper. It's like the Founders used invisible ink!

While I appreciated, in both Rotonda and the Public Archives Space, the effort given to provide context and a multiplicity of perspectives (including foregrounding how the ideals of the founding documents were denied to a broad swathe of people) the design of the Public Archives was overwhelming in a sensory way--too many different kinds of exhibits, too much information, too many threads! I found individual pieces very interesting, such as the chance to hear Teddy Roosevelt's voice off a wax cylinder recording, but it was quickly too much, and I left. From there I went to the National Building Museum, which was created to be the Pension Office and is the largest interior space in DC--it's where they hold the inaugural balls. The exterior is designed as a "brick Palazzo Farnese," with a running Parthenon-style frieze of Union soldiers, and the interior roof is supported by a row of colossal Corinthian columns inspired by Santa Maria Antiqua in Rome:

It's a cool building, but in the summer their efforts are largely focused on whatever their big "summer fun" installation is, so there aren't many exhibitions. This year's is called LAWN, and features...a giant indoor lawn with some chairs and hammocks? *shrug* I'd have been annoyed if I'd actually paid the $16 ticket, but thanks, AAM. From there I walked a few sweltering blocks to Union Station, met Meredith, and journeyed north to Sarah's house in Silver Spring. I got to meet Edie, her adorable 8-month-old daugher, and we had a lovely dinner before I headed back to DC. 

This morning I woke up to discover that the spring-filled mattress had left an honest-to-god bruise from where I'd been sleeping on my side! No wonder we were all sleeping on egg-carton mattress pads in college, jeez. I talked to my sister briefly--poor Charlie had a stomach virus, and got so dehydrated Jen took him to the ER just to be safe. He was in and out in four hours (and got a popsicle!) and Leon doesn't seem to have been affected, but my poor little man! I got a reminder of why I've always discouraged Jen's grand plans to take the kids with us to a museum this morning, as we navigated the insanely-crowded Museum of Natural History with little Edie in tow. I thought the National Archives was a lot to handle, but it had nothing on the Dinosaur Hall of the NMH. Holy hell. We agreed afterward that they were just trying to do too much; the emphasis on humans affecting climate change and evolution was admirable, but it was information and sensory overload in there. The Mammals Hall was slightly more bearable. If I have time, I'll try to go back on a weekday or later in the afternoon and slip up to the upstairs galleries. I would like to see the gems and some of the items from their permanent collection, but it's also not going to make me terribly sad if I don't get there. Museums of natural history are more universal than art museums!

I was thinking of going to the Museum of American History tomorrow morning, but I'm going to table that until next week. I have to assume that it's going to be a bit of a madhouse, and frankly my brain needs some rest!