State of the Minuteman

Alright, so I know that I have been MIA for a while (and I know this isn’t my usual blog fare), but I’ve got a PSA for local runners/outdoor enthusiast and since this is my blog, it’s also my rules!

On Saturday March 7, I ran the length of the minuteman bike path (that’s 10 miles for those who aren’t local). In preparing to make this run, it occurred to me that it would be INFINITELY useful to have a report of the status of the minuteman so I could prepare for running conditions. Would I need my cleats? Would it even be possible to traverse the length of the trail? Who knew; the internet wasn’t giving me answers.

So here’s my report of the state of the trail as of March 7, 2015. I would like to say as a disclaimer that I did not run the last .5 KM on the Alewife end because I was meeting my ride home at the Kickstand Café in Arlington, so I doubled back to Arlington center. I have no reason to believe that section of trail is any different from most of the rest of it, but here’s what I observed.

From Bedford to Lexington, the trail is mostly melted and clear. There are huge swathes of pavement interrupted by only the occasional ice patch. It is quite traversable and a pleasure to run (since the surrounding woods are still snow-covered silent and Robert Frost-like). I brought my Yaktrax but did not need them.

Taken at the end of my 10. I'm a lean, mean, running machine!

Taken at the end of my 10. I’m a lean, mean, running machine!

Right around Lexington Center, get ready to hit a bunch of large ice patches. These are extremely slippery and difficult to traverse. I saw a few folks run across them like they were nothing, but for me I had a hard enough time staying vertical while carefully picking my way across. After crossing Maple Street, there were one or two more large patches, but it was mostly clear until I hit the Arlington line.

Arlington is basically an ice skating rink. At this point in the run, I outpaced a guy on a bike (and I run about an 11:30 mile) because he had to get on/off his vehicle at every patch and I just had to speed up/slow down. It was treacherous, dangerous, and awful; this was the only part of the run that had me seriously questioning the decision to run the length of the trail (and also had me seriously concerned for my own safety). The ice is slick and smooth with no traction and nowhere to bail since the path is lined with hefty snow banks. Unless you want to trudge through snow up to your knees, you’ll have to pick your way through the ice. This was slow going. Enough so that when I hit Mill Street, I bailed on the bike path and ran up to Mass Ave to go through Arlington Center. As an aside, the sidewalks on Mass Ave in Arlington (especially on the sunny side of the street) are completely clean and a joy to run on (particularly after the treacherous icy deathness of the Minuteman). I took a chance on the last leg of the run and instead of running the rest on Mass Ave ran through the Arlington Center to Alewife portion of the Minuteman. This was a mistake. The first .75 km off of Arlington Center are nice and clean, but then you get into yet another skating rink session. I turned around right after I hit Spy Pond to head back towards Kickstand; I’m reasonably certain that the Alewife/Cambridge section of the bike train is fairly untraversible (though it does snake through Thorndike field which gets a lot of sun, so perhaps that end is clear). I wasn’t willing to find out.

On the whole, I think with a few more melt days even the icy patches of death will be mostly gone (provided we don’t get many more serious storms…. Please, please no more snow). I plan on doing my running on the section from Bedford to Lexington because, like I said, that’s pretty much fine.

I hope this was useful to some of you out there! Run safe!

Drunk Shakespeare

Since I’m in dissertation land, time flows in strange bobs. For example: we returned from New York City over a week ago and I still haven’t managed to blog about one of the best parts of the trip: a performance of Macbeth by the Drunk Shakespeare Society!

When my mom proposed the outing, I was a bit dubious. The evening bills itself as a small ensemble of actors getting drunk and doing Shakespeare. “Well”, thought I, “This will either be completely insane and amusing, or a train-wreck of a disaster such that I simply won’t be able to look away and I’ll have no recourse but to blog about it passive aggressively in hopes that one of the actors googles himself and my blog entry pops up in the search results.” Lucky for all of us, it was an experience of the first degree.

The Drunk Shakespeare Society performs six shows a week in one of those NYC spaces that, through careful diligence, transforms from a hole in the wall to a magic fairy land of entertainment. They’ve annexed a room in the Lounge at 400 West 43rd (right next to a seedy Comedy Club) and transformed it into what feels like a society subscription library. Books are arrayed in every corner, splayed on oak bookshelves, and arranged by color. You’re basically sitting inside a Victorian library that had a bit too much Pride to be stifled by the social restrictions of alphabetization.

The premise is that one of the actors gets completely ferschnockered before your eyes, and the ensemble then performs a 90-minute cut of one of Shakespeare’s more famous pieces. The drunken actor generally takes the lead (so for us it was the gentleman playing Macbeth who took the dive) and is supported by the rest of the talented cast. To enhance the experience, you can pay extra to participate as the King and Queen for the evening, which entitles you and one guest to a crown, throne, a bell to ring and effect the play’s action, champagne, caviar, and home-hade chocolates. We didn’t spring for the throne,

And, of course, you can totally just steal the throne for pictures after the show.

And, of course, you can totally just steal the throne for pictures after the show.

but it was fun to watch others as they made the play for it. Apparently you can pre-purchase it; though the evening we were there it was up for auction before the performance.

In terms of talent, the company is not to be missed. Forget the gimmick, improv, and the smart additions to the script; these are some pretty well trained classical thespians with acting chops to match their colossal livers. And trust me, I don’t say that about everybody I see bark out a sonnet onstage.

What was most exciting was to see how these actors engaged with the text in a way that got their audience similarly engaged. And the folks in the audience weren’t necessarily folks I would expect to see at your run-of-the-mill production of Macbeth. At one point, as I was watching an actor and an audience member race to shotgun a beer while the fate of the play rested in the outcome of the race (…I learned all kinds of things that night… including that “shotgunning a beer” is a thing that not only exists, but can be included in sportsmanship competitions), I realized that this was perhaps one of the most noble arts endeavors I had seen in recent time. Here was, writing a dissertation on how Americans made Shakespeare their own in the post-Revolution years, and I was witnessing first-hand the modern incarnation of the age-old phenomenon.

Because, you see, Edwin Booth didn’t perform Hamlet “AS SHAKESPEARE WROTE IT”. Edwin Booth performed Hamlet as Edwin Booth wanted to perform Hamlet. Nineteenth century American actors basically re-wrote the text to conform to cultural norms of the time. Heck, King Lear as written by Shakespeare was removed from the repertory for hundreds of years because it was simply too sad (…they instead performed a version written by Englishman Nahum Tate somewhere around 1681 which wasn’t eradicated from the stage until circa 1838). So what were these slightly intoxicated actors doing if not following the noble line of history in updating a cultural phenomenon to make it more appealing to a mass audience?

And you know what, anything that anyone can do to make Shakespeare appealing to a mass audience while remaining hat-tippingly respectful of the text is fine by me. As much as I tout myself as a “purist”, I’m a purist who enjoys a good laugh like anyone else. So long as you’re not billing yourself as “AUTHENTIC SHAKESPEARE” but rather some kind of adaptation or alteration, so long as you’re enjoying and having fun and making art to help others do so as well, so long as you’re not causing trauma to unsuspecting middle schoolers and forcing them to swear off the bard for the rest of their earthly existences, do that voodoo you do. The world will be a better place for it.

Anyway, if you get half a chance, you really need to check out Drunk Shakespeare. It’s a hoot, holler, and everything between. I think it would be particularly useful/inciting for those who don’t feel that they enjoy Shakespeare, or perhaps that they haven’t yet found some kind of understanding of it. DS is definitely a good gateway drunk to the world of all things Bardy. Especially if you enjoy one of their (admittedly overpriced) cocktails with the show; that will definitely get the brain wheels greased and ready for action.

Holidays are Stressful

The hardest things about the holidays is letting yourself walk away from your desk.

This year, we’re going to be spending some time with family (a week of it away in New York). I’m really looking forward to seeing my family, I’m really looking forward to being in New York, but I’m not looking forward to the inevitable pile-up and feelings of guilt I will experience while I’m gone/when I return because I took some time off and didn’t work on my dissertation.

Though Holidays also meant I got to meet this guy: my Birthday Present was an encounter with GreenBlack the African Penguin!

Though Holidays also meant I got to meet this guy: my Birthday Present was an encounter with GreenBlack the African Penguin!

December is a tough month to work through. The inevitably jerky start/stop rhythm necessitated by finals, end-of-semester celebrations, holidays, birthdays, etc. does not lead to the most productive environment for the academic writer. Especially the academic writer who is out of coursework and thus has no excuses about why end-of-semester is so tough on the brain.

Working at your own pace on your own calendar with only the loosest of deadlines set and agreed upon with any kind of higher authority can be taxing this way. It means that you are your own boss and, as everyone knows, being your own boss means that you have to answer to yourself. Your harsh, slave-driving, judgmental, over-achieving self.

The problem with this stage of the Ph.D. is that, by this point, you know your own limits because they were pushed and tested so hard by the rigors of your exams. During my peak Comps. studying time, I was reading 4-6 books in a day (…and watching at least one documentary or film as a sort of “cool down”). I was also, of course, not-so-slowly having a nervous break-down about the stress of studying for these colossal exams, and the pace at which I was cramming information into my head. Let’s just say that it wasn’t exactly the most healthy time of my academic life (… and that seems to be the common experience amongst humanities Ph.D. candidates).

Unfortunately, this also means that I know it is entirely possible for me to work at that pace and sustain it for four months. And because I know that, I know that when I’m not working at that pace I’m not working at top capacity. And because I’m my own boss and can’t hide anything from myself, excuses don’t really jive with me. So when I don’t output at that level, I feel like I’ve “wasted a day” unless I do some pretty serious sanity checks about what I actually accomplish in a given period.

Perspective is a hard thing to maintain when you’re staring down the eyes of something as big as the Dissertation beast. At the moment my beast and I are still friends, but I am fully aware that at any time it might turn on me savagely and tear my arm off. My only hope of survival is in keeping up with the deadlines I’ve imposed on myself. Ensuring that I don’t tire myself out with irrationally-placed demands while at the same time balancing the amount of work that I need to accomplish is key to winning the long game here.

So, while I’m not going to feel entirely good about it, I am walking away from my desk for a week. When I come back, I’ll be refreshed and good to go for another year. Or at least another several months until I can justify taking another break longer than my workout.

I hope you find it in yourself to put down the keyboard and leave the book stacks to themselves for a few days. I also hope that you have a wonderful holiday season full of warmth, love, and delicious food! I know I will; there’s a maple-glazed bacon turkey in my future.

Google It

Ah the beginning of a new semester. Fresh new faces, a slew of new names to learn, and new classrooms full of new people to meet knowing that they’ve previously googled me.

As you know if you’ve done any reading of this blog, I keep and curate an extremely active digital presence. I also keep and curate a digital presence for several major professional organizations, and have helped even more begin their adventures into the digital world.

one of the more awesome shots that pops up in my google image search; me kicking butt at the Summer Sling this year

one of the more awesome shots that pops up in my google image search; me kicking butt at the Summer Sling this year

It’s not uncommon for me to meet people who are gun-shy about the internet. They think that curating an online persona entails revealing too much of their private lives, or somehow exposing themselves in a way they aren’t comfortable with.

The fact is this: in the digital era, you will have an internet presence. Depending upon the popularity of your name, that presence may or may not be immediately linked with you personally. Never doubt this, however: that presence can either harm or help you, and curating that presence is taking control of what happens when someone types your name into google.

Because, let’s face it, what do people do the minute an unfamiliar name crosses their desk? How to employers verify (or investigate) claims of expertise or previous employment? How does anyone know anything these days?

Taking your digital presence into your own hands is taking the power back from the system. By actively curating, you craft a presence that makes you more legitimate, more desirable, and more accessible.

In order to keep this presence clean and free of “unmentionable” (or at least unprofessional) personal information, the key is to create (and hold yourself accountable) to a set of personal protocol for social networking. Before I share anything on the internet, I take myself through a series of questions about the content. If the content doesn’t measure up to my protocol standards, I either find a way to share it that is protected by security measures (like facebook permissions groups, password walls, or private e-mails), or keep it to myself.

Here is my list of primary content questions that I make myself ask about anything before I post it to the internet:

             Would you be comfortable with someone reading this (tweet, status, blog, etc.) out loud at a job interview?

             Would you be comfortable with your students knowing these things?

             Would you be comfortable with this content being read aloud to your tenure review board?

 These are my “red flag” questions; i.e.: if the answer to any one of these questions is “no”, the content is not fit to be posted publicly. If the content is green-lit by these standards, I further ask myself:

             Are you currently of sound mind? (…i.e.: have you slept enough? Had your coffee yet today? Eaten recently? All of these are key factors that could influence good decision-making).

            Have you re-read this content to check for grammar, spelling, and proper attribution?

            Have you fact-checked this content with a reliable source?

These questions are “shelf it” questions; if I answer “no” to any of them, I can’t post the

Pro tip: google image will also pull from your youtube account; here's a still from some action vid of me cracking my bullwhip courtesy of this feature

Pro tip: google image will also pull from your youtube account; here’s a still from some action vid of me cracking my bullwhip courtesy of this feature

content until that answer turns into a “yes”. They won’t necessarily prevent me from posting something, but they certainly do some work to ensure the quality of my posts.

So as you begin to meet fresh faces this year, consider implementing your own set of standards for what the internet has to say about you. And, if you’re not already, consider putting your own two cents into the mix. I guarantee that, with some effort, the long run will be worth it.

Back in the Saddle

Being back home from the big dig means a lot of things:

1)   I am back at my desk! I love my desk. I missed my desk. I can’t believe how quickly I became accustomed to my current work set-up, but I simply wouldn’t want it any other way and I so dearly missed having it. I missed the sunlight; I missed my giant window; I missed the comfy chair; I missed my dual monitor and raised laptop setup; I missed my external keyboard and mouse; I missed my giant external hard drive; and I missed not having to move everything around on a whim. So glad to be

In the course of my unpacking, this happened.  Because for me this is normal.

In the course of my unpacking, this happened. Because for me this is normal.

back sitting in one location when I’m working!

2)   Man oh man do I have so many e-mails to answer. I’m about caught up on all the things now; but it was dicey there for a few days. It’s incredible the amount of backlog you can build up, even when working triage between archive trips.

 3)   I might have gone a little theatre-nutty and accepted about a half dozen reviews in my first two days being back. This week I’ll be reviewing one show; next week I’ll be reviewing a different show and seeing a third show just for the sake of seeing theater… and I have a few more on the horizon coming up. I’m so happy that it’s theatre season again; and I’m so stoked to be back in the reviewers’ saddle (though I will admit, it was nice to see a show or two without a notebook in my hand while I was in New York!).

4)   I have so many pre-semester errands to accomplish. Some of them are amusing. Some of them are not. Luckily I timed my return such that I’d have a few precious days on campus before the hoards descend in multitudes. Picking up a parking pass for the semester is SO much easier when you can sneak in and out without anyone else being there. By the time the undergrads arrive back on campus, lines at campus security wind up being out the door and around the block (no joke) and I’m simply too ridiculously busy to spend two hours waiting for the privilege to hand them my money. Also: when campus is empty, I can use the quad for whip practice. Not so much once everyone returns from summer break.

5)   I have once more managed to fill this semester with exciting things. I’m TAing one class in the department and teaching a second. I am teaching my stage combat class again to the kids at Charlestown, and teaching my OSHER class again to my delightful continuing adult ed. students. I’m also fight directing at least two projects (with more on the horizon), finishing edits on a chapter for publication, continuing my work as an independent contract writer, and continuing my work with the Folger. Oh and writing a dissertation. And that’s just what I’m doing on the work front… My personal projects and leisure activities continue at a similar pace.

6)   Now I have to set order to the INSANE amount of stuff I documented over the

Of course, being back in Mass does mean I'm missing this view....

Of course, being back in Mass does mean I’m missing this view….

course of five weeks at some of the biggest archives in the country. I’m making progress, and the trip definitely opened my eyes to a lot of things that I really needed to consider over the course of this dissertation process. Also: it was fun to paw through archival material (if a bit frustrating sometimes).

7)   Back to running here means back to hill training. New York is very flat…. My neighborhood not so much. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, I guess?

 Back to the grind!

Is the Raven Growing Hoarse?

Alright so listen. Sleep No More ain’t what it used to be.

I’ve been to the McKittrick Hotel three times now. The first was during its supposed short-term run WAAAYYY back in the spring of 2011. It was one of the most epic theatre experiences of my life; so creepy, so moving, so very creative. It was so awesome that I knew I had to take my best beloved to see it as soon as I could.

Turns out “as soon as I could” had to wait a few years; but we got there in the summer of

A shot from our 2012 trip; this was taken over drinks at Gallow Green

A shot from our 2012 trip; this was taken over drinks at Gallow Green

2012; just as Gallow Green (the rooftop bar addition) was opening up. He loved it; I loved it; we had a blast.

This trip, we knew that we had to go back in and see it again. There are just so many permutations of adventure to go through and so much to do inside the hotel. I hadn’t tasted nearly enough of the candy, and who knows? Maybe we could get a glimpse of the elusive sixth floor? He hadn’t had a one-on-one yet, and I knew I wanted to see more of the story. So the other evening we went.

I’m sorry to say that this once-epic experience has definitely gone downhill since it first opened; and not because the performers aren’t spectacular (they are) or the immersive environment isn’t receiving the care and attention it needs to stay immersive (it is); but rather because the crowds of people who attend the show are no longer respectful of the environment, the experience, or even fellow audience members.

For those who are unfamiliar, go check out my review of the first performance I saw to get cozy with the concepts that I’m about to discuss.

Never before have I seen so many half-masked/unmasked people wandering the halls of the McKittrick. While I hadn’t witnessed this phenomenon in previous visits, these days guests seem to think that the “wear your mask at all times” rule doesn’t apply to them. Additionally, I heard more cross-chatter from guests than I have in previous years. Try as you might to whisper, when there’s no talking allowed in the hotel, a human voice really carries.

Worst of all was the way that the guests behaved to each other. There was so much pushing, shoving, and other attempts to get to “the front” that I gave up even trying to follow performers about midway through the performance. The now famed “one on one” aspects of the performance seem to be a much sought after prize and McKittrick guests are willing to fight to be chosen. Several times, I experienced being shoved away from a performer so that someone could get in front of me in hopes of being selected for a one-on-one. Several other times I was standing in a mostly-empty room surveying a performer from a respectful distance when new arrivals would push past me to stand between me and the performer leaving the performer without enough playing space and me with a frustrated shoulder-chip.

I find this to be really sad. Sleep No More was a true pinnacle of theatrical experience for me, and to have it so ruined by others was a shame not just for me but also for the thespians who work so hard to keep this show running.

I think part of the problem is a real “hands off” attitude from the proprietors of the McKittrick. In an effort to keep the experience mysterious, Punchdrunk’s employees are notoriously tight-lipped about how to behave while inside the hotel. I understand that appreciating the experience is up to the individual, but a set of “official/unofficial” rules and regulations about how to treat other guests (and, by the way, the performers) would go a long way, I think, towards curbing the problems which led to my extremely negative experience of the piece.

I hate to say it, but if this kind of behavior continues from the guests, Sleep No More is going to very quickly lose interest for turned-off patrons who don’t want to literally fight to see the show.

In an effort to rehabilitate the Sleep No More audience, I offer unto the internet a few pointers about how to comport yourself while inside the McKittrick. I’ve crafted these with one thing in mind: that if we can help each other have the best possible experience, we can all enjoy the show for years to come.

1)   Spatial Awareness: while the SNM mask definitely cuts off your peripheral vision and creates a feeling of being alone in the scene, try to be aware of who is around you and how long they’ve been standing there. If you walk into a room with others already in it, try not to block their view (they were there first, after all!). Also, keep some sense of where your neighbors are when watching a scene. The actors can move pretty quickly sometimes, and you may have to duck out of the way to avoid legs, arms, or flying objects. You want to make certain that you have some space to do so, and that you’re leaving such space for those around you.

2)   Respectful Following Distance: even though part of the “shtick” is to be a part of the scene, you still want to give the actors enough space to do their thing. They need to be able to move around, get to the props they need, and even meet up with scene partners sometimes. Try to leave them enough room to perform when you pause to observe them. If you happen upon other McKittrick guests with a performer, don’t just assume that the space between the guest and performer is a “free spot” to stand; you might have just walked into the space that the guest specifically made for the performer to perform. Stand behind other patrons as much as you can, and try not to breathe down anyone’s neck.

3)   Right of Way: following performers around the hotel is definitely part of the fun; but if you see that there are guests already following an actor, try to trail along at the back of the pack rather than push to the front. The people who follow most closely have probably been following the character for some time and have a vested interest in the story that is unfolding; there’s room for everyone, but you wouldn’t want to scoop another patron on seeing the story that they’ve put so much time and investment into. This is doubly true if you’re a slow walker, or if you’re in a group. The actors move quickly and it can be easy to lose them without a vested effort; don’t block someone else from following through on what they’re trying to do. Fall into the herd and start following as well! As others peel away, you can have your turn at the front of the pack.

4)   Don’t “Game the System”: especially with the blog-o-sphere so active with how to get this one-on-one, or how to achieve that goal inside the hotel, it’s easy to go in with a desire to “win” the “game”. This attitude will only make you disappointed if you, for some reason, fail to accomplish what you set your mind to (which could easily happen depending upon so many different factors outside of your control). This experience is meant to be savored; not graded. Remember why you fell in love with the show in the first place and try to let the experience wash over you. Competitive drive will not only ruin your experience, but also that of those around you since it will make you more likely to exhibit the kinds of behaviors that deprive other guests of a good time. The point is not to “win”. The point is to enjoy.

5)   Trust: Trust that Punchdrunk has something in mind when they request that you not talk or take your mask off during the performance. If these rules seems “stupid” or “bad”, try to dig beneath that instinct and ask yourself why you find them to be so. If you grow nervous or scared, either embrace it as part of the experience or take a break in the bar for a while (the ushers, I’m told, are very good at helping you find it if you need it for this reason). Taking your mask off or speaking breaks the environment for others who, by the way, paid the same ticket price you did. Don’t allow your negative experience to ripple out. Also, trust that the actors see and take note of you, even if they don’t acknowledge your presence (they’re not supposed to, after all). Yes, there will be one person chosen from a crowd for a one-on-one; you do not need to make yourself the most “obvious” choice.

Courtesy of Dogs in Sleep No More Masks; http://dogsinsleepnomoremasks.tumblr.com

Courtesy of Dogs in Sleep No More Masks; http://dogsinsleepnomoremasks.tumblr.com

The actors are quite good at realizing who has been there for a while, and who has developed a sort of “rapport” with them. Attempting to push the issue is obnoxious.

When Punchdrunk uses the phrase “fortune favors the bold”, they mean that you should be brave, explore, and see what you can find in the hotel. They also mean that if, should an actor offer you a one-on-one or some individual attention, you should take them up on it. They do not mean “push your way to the front of every pack”; they do not mean “do your best to be everywhere all at once”.

Relax, have fun, and enjoy the show. That’s the best way to keep your behavior from preventing others from doing the same.

Adventures in Archives

In the last week I have managed to:

Find items listed in the card catalogue that it took three archivists and a reference librarian to figure out what these items might be, and that the library probably doesn’t have what I’m looking for anymore (though they obviously did at one point) but if these items were still, somehow, in the collection how I could fill out a call slip to maybe see what I wanted to see.

2014-07-22 10.41.32

Shot I took on my way to NY Municipal yesterday. Ain’t she a beaut’?

Fill out the call slip in the way the librarian told me to.  It did not get me my broadside, but it did get me a collection of clippings that were mildly useful so I’ll call that particular adventure a wash.

Find an item listed in the card catalogue which, when delivered to the desk, was in such fragile condition that I was not allowed to take the item from the desk but rather had to make a special appointment with a special archivist so that she could turn pages for me.

Find a series of items that was collected in so many different forms that the archivists had to bring me no less than three book cradles and two sets of book weights to figure out how I could view them safely without damaging or putting stress on the items.  These items, by the by, were included in a series of circus ephemera which also included all kinds of broadsides, newspaper clippings, advertisements, and crumbling papers arrayed in scrapbooks in what I’m certain made sense at the time they were put together but now, one hundred and fifty years later, is the most convoluted organization possible.

Find an envelope containing locks of hair and adoring notes from Edwin Booth’s groupies.  Apparently fan-girling is not a modern invention and, in the nineteenth century, was way creepier than it is today.

Procure and subsequently lose approximately fifteen pencils.

Increase my average daily physical activity by approximately 200%.  This is not hyperbole; my step tracker counted.

Make and cancel and re-make so many plans that I’m hoping my calendar remembers where and when I’m supposed to be at a given time because I certainly don’t.

Attain and attend appointments at all of my target archives and sift through so much material that I’m going to be reeling for a while.

And now, they’ve paged my next batch.  Catch you later!

The Big Dig

Today I’m working at the Rare Books and Manuscripts division of the New York Public Library.

The Stephen A. Shwarzman building looks like a piece of Hogwarts right in the heart of New York City.

The building is open to the public most days during reasonably convenient hours.

I can’t believe I’ve lived most of my life in New York and never until today been into the library building.

I also can’t believe that I’m working in a private section of a public building which requires a special appointment, special passwords, and special knowledge of the interior workings of the system to access. When I leave the reading room to grab a drink of water or take a break, I have to walk across a beautiful rotunda filled with works of art that defy description and many gaping tourists taking pictures of them. When I return to the reading room, I have to go down back alley corridors, ring a special bell, and get a wave-in from one of the archivists because “she’s with us”.

Last night, while on the phone with my best beloved, I actually used the phrase “I’m in the

Hogwarts, I tell you

Hogwarts, I tell you

field…”. This makes me think of Indiana Jonesing my way through temples filled with traps and pitfalls all to find the Golden Idol of Treasure sitting atop some elaborate dais. This metaphor seems reasonably accurate to what I’m actually doing at the moment so I think that I’ll leave it that way. In case you get bored, just imagine me with my bullwhip and fabulous hat swinging my way through Times Square shouting “It belongs in a museum!”.

…you really won’t be so very far off from the truth.

….and now back to the big dig.

Scope

One of the problems of archival research is scope.

So you have a project. The project is interesting. The project involves a lot of dates, figures, places, etc. You do a search of an archive’s holdings on these various keywords and come up with a handful of findings that look like they may be pertinent. On paper, looking at this handful is totally doable within your allotted time frame.

But then you arrive at the archive and find out that one line of innocuous catalogue entry is actually representative of a collection which spans boxes and boxes of items; some of them large, some of them small, some of them will require a simple glance and reference picture, some will require careful reading. The collection is catalogued in a finding aid which, in itself, is approximately book-length and has entries for each individual item but those entries consist of a perfunctory three-word description which might possibly relate to your research or it could be a wild goose chase down a rabbit hole of really interesting stuff.

Me and honest Abe on the steps of NY Historical Society

Me and honest Abe on the steps of NY Historical Society

That’s the real problem: all the things that you could ask the archivist to pull are, in their own right, really interesting. They might be old, they might be antique, they might be related to whatever it is that you’re doing in a way that is so tangential that it might not even matter in the long-run but, being a thorough researcher, you have to document these findings and at least do enough looking-into that you can claim due diligence. So the one line of catalogue entry suddenly consumes hours (if not days) of your archive time and, in the words of Indie, “X” never marks the spot. I can’t tell you how much time I’ve spent following leads just to say that I’ve mapped the terrain.

This week, I’ve devoted attention to looking at materials that are probably not related enough to my dissertation to matter, but hat I had to look into anyway to rule out their collections from the greater body of work which might matter. The research treasure hunt is always fruitful in that you are constantly handling interesting things. This week alone, I found myself pawing through a batch of Edwin Booth’s cancelled checks, and a folder full of locks of hair given to him by various groupies, fan-girls, and sweethearts throughout the years (like I said…. REALLY INTERESTING STUFF but how are these things related to performances of Hamlet and Julius Caesar in the nineteenth century?).

I’ve also been pointed in the direction of collections that will require a great deal of time to sift through by archivists whose job it is to help researchers like me find things they’re looking for. These archivists know their stuff and the things they pointed me at are probably extremely fruitful. But do I really have time to read the personal correspondence of several prominent families spanning the course of about a hundred years in hopes that they will turn up details of the five performances I’m looking at?

Oh, yes, there are ways to narrow the field. In the instance of personal correspondence, I certainly have some target date ranges that I could look at. But I definitely didn’t allot time to look at these things (at least during this research trip) so do I have that time to do it? And can any of these things be found digitally so that I don’t waste precious time in a reading room looking at things that I could be looking at when I get home?

This research adventure has so far been extremely fruitful. So fruitful, in fact, that I’m beginning to worry about having enough time to look at everything I want to see (despite the fact that I have four more weeks in which to do it). I have begun to strategically rule out things that perhaps don’t need my attention (do I really need to see another portrait of Edwin Booth or yet another copy of John Wilkes Booth’s Carte De Visite upon which they based the picture displayed upon his “Wanted” poster after he shot the president?). I have also begun to prioritize items which are pertinent to sections of my diss for which I have fewer options for primary documentation (just you try finding materials relating to African American Actors in 1820).

I’ve also tried to start pacing myself; it would be really easy to burn too hot too fast on this. Brain work is taxing and I find that I come home simply exhausted at the end of the day (never mind the entirely new and exciting running possibilities that Riverside and Central Parks have opened up to me and I’ve taken perhaps too much advantage of). I also find that I’m really excited for more; that I’m doing exactly the work I hoped to do; and that I fight back imposter syndrome with every day that I walk into that reading room like I know what I’m doing.

….even if I only kinda know what I’m doing and a lot of this is figure it out on the fly. Hey, we’ve all gotta start somewhere!

A New York Minute

There really is nothing quite like being home.

It’s been many a year since I’ve spent any significant time in New York. Twenty four hours have been enough to put a smile on my face at the most mundane of things: bumping into tourists in Times Square on my way to an important dinner meeting, correcting tourists’ directions when they are completely lost because they’re one street south of where they think they are, iced coffee that doesn’t taste like it comes from a franchise (sorry, Dunks, you’ve got nothin’ on NY), random iced hot chocolates from Jacques Torres on my way from one archive to another.

Oh and the archives! This morning I spent some time at the beautiful reading room of the Patricia D. Klingenstein Library at the New York Historical Society. Big, airy, lofty, and just covered floor to ceiling in art, this was such a glorious place to weather the stormy New York morning. When my eyes got bleary and I simply couldn’t look at any more advertising pamphlets, I took a walk over to the Billy Rose Theatre Division of the New York Public library to check out their card catalogue and begin to page my requests.

Museum of Natural History from my Walk-By this morning.

Museum of Natural History from my Walk-By this morning.

So far, I’ve found a lot of things that will be useful, and several dead ends. Dead ends are actually a huge relief because they mean that I don’t need to continue a line of inquiry. Turning up stones is sometimes hard work and if you find too many salamanders, your menagerie overflows. This morning was so fruitful that I was beginning to worry about the carry capacity of my tanks. This afternoon has definitely been an exercise in page the material, read the material, be glad that you’re a thorough researcher and forget the material.

In between, I’ve scoped some plays I want to see (In addition to the requisite Shakespeare in the Park and Sleep No More viewings, I think a trip to Newsies is in my near future… especially because it’s set to close in August), taken a run down Riverside park, had a real NY bartender make my real NY cocktail without giving me funny looks about how oddly specific I was being in terms of my instructions, and eaten food that I had never even heard of before it was on my plate.

Again, this is only day one of a five-week trip. I’m happy to be home, and excited for my continued New York adventures (including the consumption of bagels…. Though I can’t do it today because I’ve already blown my frivolous calorie expenditure with aforementioned frozen hot chocolate concoction).

Also: for the record, when you’re away from home long enough even its quirks that drove you nuts when you lived there become endearing. I’ve had to dodge a serious of pretty serious rainstorms with strategic application of libraries and bars for the so-far duration of my stay and haven’t thought a bad thought about it yet other than, “Oh, you New York!”

Yup. I was fiending for some Billy Joel and water with a bit too much fluoride to be well and truly practical.

And now, I think they’ve paged my materials. Back to work.