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Posted by Matt Edgeworth
The scenario: a team of specialists are discovering artifacts from the past and attempting to establish their mode of origin. Tool-marks and other traces of human action come into view. Artificial patterns emerge and take shape from the material field that has just been worked, standing out as figures against a natural background. With experience it becomes possible to tell artifacts apart from similar-looking natural objects or features. A skilled practitioner can work out what kind of past human action gave rise to them and what sort of tools were being used at the time.
Is this a description of archaeological excavation?
No. There are other archaeologies, other archaeologists (though they may not style themselves as such). They inhabit worlds parallel to our own, dealing for the most part with different kinds of substances and materials, using different equipment, in different environments or sites of discovery. This article deals with one of those parallel worlds, where a kind of archaeology is routinely practiced; this is the world of the scientific laboratory.
Electron microscope
(Photo by dpape, 2009. Creative Commons Licence. http://www.flickr.com/photos/dpape/4057926815/).
Continue reading "Fields of artifacts: archaeology of contemporary scientific discovery" »
Posted by Alex Knodell
Alex R. Knodell
Brown University
I recently attended a conference in Greece that was put together with the admirable goal of creating a dialogue between a local community and academic archaeologists working in the area. Topics to be addressed were past and present archaeological fieldwork, public involvement with, and awareness of, the area’s rich archaeological heritage, and future directions for scholarship and cultural resource management more generally. This sort of integration of the broader public in archaeological work not only adheres to the sometimes glossed-over ethical obligation toward public education and outreach (see footnote 1 below), but also has great potential for the preservation of the archaeological record in a particular area; if, that is, such an agenda is carried out in the right way. With such potential in mind, this conference fell depressingly short of the mark, and served rather to illustrate some of the problems and politics in which archaeology is inextricably enmeshed. This is not to say that conferences like this cannot be seen-through to their full promise, and, indeed, there have been many such examples from Greece and elsewhere that have proved to be enormously successful. Moreover, there is a growing interest in “community archaeology” (Marshall 2002). So while this posting is meant to be critical and draw out very real concerns with how we go about making archaeology public, I also hope to highlight the promise these types of endeavors hold, and their necessity in the preservation of the archaeological record. The names of the conference and its participants will not be mentioned as they are not necessary for the broader message I am trying to convey, which I think is relevant to archaeologists working anywhere there is a local community with a stake in their activities.
There are many pertinent directions this discussion could take, both critical and optimistic, and here I have chosen to focus broadly on the theme of community engagement. This aspect of archaeology directly affects a variety of stakeholders, academic or local, and can be examined critically from multiple perspectives. And while the ethical codes or guidelines of numerous organizations for professional archaeologists lay much emphasis on the consideration of local stakeholders, it seems more common to prioritize avoiding violation of these codes, rather than any proactive engagement in efforts that embrace the spirit of them. For example, while directors of field projects would certainly not do anything to harm the local communities in which they work, it is less common for projects go out of their way to involve the community in their activities, beyond employing a few people or businesses, or providing an occasional public lecture. No doubt, these are positive things and do involve community members, but it is in the best interests of both archaeologists and the community if local involvement expands to place greater emphasis on education, sustainability and the long-term.
Continue reading "Some Problems and Potential in Community Engagement and Making Archaeology Public" »
Posted by Christopher Witmore
Components for wind turbines at port in Nafplion, Greece.
Last Wednesday I attended a workshop at MIT entitled “Relocating innovation: Places and material practices of future making”. Convened by Lucy Suchman (in residence with the Department of Anthropology at MIT for the Spring of 2009), Endre Dányi and Laura Watts, all of the Centre for Science Studies at the University of Lancaster (http://www.lancs.ac.uk/fass/centres/css/), the workshop sought to critically engage with discourses of ‘innovation’ through the comparative juxtaposition of “three different sites of social, technological, and political future making”: Xerox Palo Alto Research Center (PARC), Orkney, Scotland and the Hungarian Parliament. A basic premise of the workshop was that futures, or more precisely ‘future(s) making’, are located.
It helps to situate this premise—futures are located—by thinking about it historically. Thales in the shadow of the Great Pyramid, al-Haytham at Dar Al-Hekma, Edison in his laboratory Menlo Park, President Obama in the Oval Office; with each figure and site one encounters scenarios where horizons for substantial potentiality were designed. Whether we speak of geometry, optics, electricity or efficiency targets for the American Auto Industry, the practices undertaken with each site translated into futures that were made. (Of course, none of these futures were inevitable. The clinamen, Lucretius’ indeterminate swerve, is always a possibility.)
By centering our account upon these key figures, it is perhaps easy to see why popular culture persistently regards innovation as the province of the lone genius. However, Suchman, Dányi and Watts are much more cautious. Future(s) making, as the workshop sought to probe in more depth, is shaped by heterogeneous network of entities, contestations, utterly specific qualities of place and culturally oriented material practices. With each site of future(s) making one also encounters innovation at work.
Continue reading "Innovation, future(s) making and archaeology " »
Posted by Colleen Morgan
Colleen Morgan, University of California, Berkeley
At first, I was at a loss. Earlier in the week I had stated my intention to twitter the Stanford meeting of the Theoretical Archaeology Group on my blog, but there I was, standing outside the door of a conference room, wondering what exactly I should write. Twitter is a social networking site that allows users to send messages to their 'followers' in short, 140 character-long statements. These statements can be read online or sent automatically as a text message to your cellphone. Out of curiosity I signed up for Twitter in April of 2007, but didn't use the service much, as I didn't know anyone else who was using it at the time. Since then, Twitter has grown precipitously, with famous users such as Tina Fey, Oprah Winfrey, Hugh Jackman and President Obama (who has been rather quiet lately) updating their subscribers on subjects ranging from world policy to food preferences--Tina Fey ate a Caramello bar for lunch on February 3rd, in case you were wondering. I find Twitter useful primarily to join in a broader conversation during specific events; Twitter is nearly indispensable during South by Southwest, a large music, film, and interactive conference where I was a guest speaker on an archaeology panel last March. People attending the conference could use hashtags, a method of tagging updates that makes it possible to search for event and topic-specific commentary. I was able to find reactions to our panel discussion by searching for archaeology under the #SXSW hashtag and was happy to see that our discussion of virtual reconstructions and the archive were well-received by the technologists in the audience.
But was this technology ready to come to an archaeology conference? As the social networking coordinator for the World Archaeological Congress, I intended to user Twitter last July at the WAC Congress in Dublin. Unfortunately international calling and texting rates made this impossible, so I was eager to test out the utility closer to home, in the heart of Silicon Valley.
Continue reading "Twittering TAG (Theoretical Archaeology Group) Stanford 2009" »
Posted by Roderick Campbell
Roderick Campbell (Brown University)
It is striking how many recent archaeological titles begin with the words “The Archaeology of …” or more pluralistically, “Archaeologies of …”. While the use of “archaeology” in the titles of books by archaeologists might seem to be fairly self-evident and reasonable, there is something slightly defensive, slightly insecure about the need to constantly wave the disciplinary flag. Moreover, I would argue, the potential problems inherent in this boundary marking exercise, come most clearly to the fore when the “…” of “The Archaeology of …” is some large inter-disciplinary topic like “religion”, “war”, “sacrifice”, etc. In these cases, the maneuvers that claim a piece of these territories for archaeology often include the application of a strict definition of “…” followed by methodological recipes for digging up this now reified intangible. Now this is not to say that methodological work is unimportant or that archaeologists shouldn’t pragmatically search for ways in which given phenomena might be reflected in the “material record”. This danger lies rather in the tendency to simplify and objectify in the service of finding “facts in the ground”. Starting from the limited territory claimed for archaeology in brandishing materiality frequently forecloses the possibility of understanding the full complexity or significance of the matter at hand. A more productive approach might begin with a transdisciplinary attempt to grapple with the untamed complexity of topics such as “religion”, “memory” or “violence” saving the question of how one pursues them archaeologically till after a better sense is reached of their potential social, material, political and inter-subjective entanglements.
Continue reading "The Archaeology of … and the Immateriality of Violence" »
Posted by Elissa Z. Faro
by Elissa Z. Faro (Dartmouth College)
January 20, 2009. On this historic day, when Barack Obama was sworn in as the 44th president of the United States of America, the issues that Hamilakis considers in this book – the relationship between the modern nation-state and its historical and material past – resonate anew.
Hamilakis’ book aims to address a number of themes that, although discussed in terms of Greece and Greek antiquities, are current issues that concern the larger archaeological and anthropological world. He aims to explore, problematize, and re-examine the concept of archaeology as the practice of producing meanings out of material traces of the past; the concept of national imagination and its relationship with the concept of modernity. For me, as an archaeologist who primarily works in Greece, this book struck a special chord for my own research and fieldwork. At the same time, it triggered many thoughts, responses, and reflections about my own and other’s work in different periods, different regions, and in different developing nations of the world. Below, I will discuss how Hamilakis approaches the complex network of relationships between archaeologists, citizens, politicians, and the larger global world.
Hamilakis’ over-arching framework is based on his view of nationalism, which he sees as a cultural system, an ideology, an ontology, and even the social dreams of a people. In the introductory chapter, he states explicitly that “the book explores the key position of the ancient Greek (mostly Classical) heritage and its material manifestations in the lives, imagination, experiences, anxieties, and hopes of people in Greece” (7). Employing a primarily anthropological methodology – a “multi-sited historical and archaeological ethnography” (cf. Marcus 1995, 1998) – this book tackles issues such as stakeholdership in the past, colonialism, consumerism, and national identity.
Continue reading "A Response to The Nation and its Ruins: Antiquity, Archaeology, and National Imagination in Greece (2007) by Yannis Hamilakis. Oxford: Oxford University Press." »
Posted by Christopher Witmore
When presented with the question of “why I became an archaeologist” I tend to cycle between 3 different responses; responses all rooted in childhood experiences. Indeed, which of these I dispense varies with whom I am speaking. My answers are:
1) I enjoyed both digging up and collecting bits and pieces of glass and metal on the family farm as a kid.
2) From age 10, when my mother purchased the subscription, I regularly read about archaeology in National Geographic (this routine was tempered by my love of fantasy world literatures).
3) Indiana Jones was one of my childhood heroes.
Now it should go without saying that none of these responses, when taken on their own, even comes near to accounting for why I was drawn down the long path (the length of which, of course, varies) to becoming an archaeologist. Far beyond what may have been my other, and diverse, childhood influences — films from Spartacus and Clash of the Titans to Excalibur and Conan, a passing obsession with Dungeons and Dragons, authors of fiction like J.R.R. Tolkien or C.S. Lewis (Michael Shanks once told me that almost half of the undergraduates at the University of Wales Lampeter were drawn to archaeology because of the allure of the fantastical realms created by Tolkien and Lewis), and, of course, the associated backyard battles with my brothers clad in armor fashioned from scraps of plywood, tin roofing and duck tape — one has to account for the wider web of other influences, no matter how standout or subtle, that impacted their formation along the circuitous course to an advanced academic degree in archaeology and beyond. The distance between now and then is tremendous. Still, childhood fascinations count for a great deal — the past was a place of wonderment and imagination.
In retrospect, and given my rural roots in the North American Southeast, the portrayal of the past (whether fact or fiction) and archaeology on television, in magazines and novels had a profound impact. And yet, surprisingly few have chosen to take these fields of cultural production seriously (Finn 2004; Holtorf 2004 and 2007; Lucas 2004; Pearson and Shanks 2001; Shanks 1992; also refer to Michael Shanks on the archaeological imagination).
In his latest book, Archaeology is a Brand!, Cornelius Holtorf asks his readers to hold the almost obligatory negative responses so often tempered with ridicule and scorn by academic archaeologists and to consider the topic of “archaeology in popular culture” with an ‘open mind’ (also see Holtorf 2008). In this, he is neither concerned with past-as-play videogames like Praetorians, the fascination with the fantasy worlds of Avalon and Middle Earth, movies such as Alexander (Cherry 2009(in press)), nor the jousting competition at King Richard’s 16th-century faire. Quite specifically, the book addresses the “meaning” of archaeology as generated in television, movies, literature (both fictional and nonfictional), newspapers, or even National Geographic; all mass media which Holtorf takes to be “popular culture” (though he prefers the term Alltagskultur or “everyday culture” as enrolled by German folklorists (2004, 7-12)). The argument, echoing the sentiments of Gavin Lucas, is that the major allure of archaeology lies more in popular culture than in “any noble vision of improving self –awareness through “historical perspectives”” (Holtorf 2004, 3 after Lucas 2004, 119). Moreover, this fascination, for Holtorf is “rooted in a few key stereotypes and clichés” (2004, 130): 1) the archaeologist as adventurer (also refer to Holtorf's recent Archaeolog entry: Hero! Real archaeology and ”Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull”); 2) the archaeologist as detective; 3) the archaeologist as infallible producer of “profound revelations;” and 4) the archaeologist as heritage steward.
Continue reading "‘Popular culture’ and the archaeological imagination: A commentary on Cornelius Holtorf’s Archaeology is a Brand! (2007)" »
Posted by Bradley Sekedat
Bradley M. Sekedat
Brown University
A growing number of recent studies seek new ways to engage with landscapes (see references). The Carrlands Project (www.carrlands.org.uk) fits aptly into this category as it explores the complexity of the Carrs in southeastern England through the combination of music, dialogue, and composed sound recordings. The format of this presentation is a website that hosts a series of 12 recordings divided among three specific portions of the Carrlands: Snitterby Carrs, Hibaldstow Carrs and Horkstow Carrs. Each recording is approximately 15 minutes long, treating the ‘historical,’ ‘cultural’ and ‘physical’ variations that make up this diverse region. The creators (Mike P. Pearson, John Hardy and Hugh Fowler) encourage users either to bring the recordings with them to the Carrs to enhance the interactivity of their engagement, or to listen to the audio clips at a distance, embracing the message of complexity inherent within them. This reviewer listened from his office in Providence, Rhode Island. I paid particular attention to the dominant themes that arise out of the scripted narrations and musical compositions that accompany the journey through the flat, marshy, industrial and agricultural terrain.
Continue reading "Landscape Complexity and New Media: a review of the Carrlands Project Website (Mike Pearson)." »
Posted by Tim Neal
Tim Neal (The University of Sheffield)
This photo essay was presented at the Association of Social Anthropologist’s conference in London in 2007. It was part of a panel organised around the theme of “Modernising archaeological tourism: from image conflict to archaeological expressionism” convened by Ian Russell and Andrew Cochrane. Taking up the theme of mentality/materiality, this paper suggests that such duality can dissolve through archaeological/heritage tourism. However the normative impulse that informs the latter cannot be maintained where this non-dualist perspective is to flourish.
This paper has been difficult to dislodge from my mind and onto paper. Something about the subject of the session it was prepared for rather than just my own approach. Materialities and mentalities as a subject spoke directly to me because it finds itself at the interface between archaeology and anthropology, material being in a sense the matter of archaeology while mentalities suggest an anthropological domain. Also perhaps, this is a didactic issue that I am raising: how to teach, or facilitate learning, without simply effacing other teachings or learning?
When I sent through my abstract Ian suggested that I might like to offer a substantive example to illustrate my paper. I replied that I would try to do this while in France researching where to carry out my fieldwork for a PhD.
This is the story of that attempt to illustrate.
I was visiting the department of the Ariege in the Pyrennees. My PhD research is based around an extended period of participant observation in a French commune with a significant proportion of resident and partially resident British migrants. My interest in this was initially prompted by a concern to explore the way in which British migration was activated by a British sensibility towards aspects of European cultural heritage such as Romanesque architecture, deserted uplands and surviving ‘peasant’ traditions. I decided to visit the cave of Niaux in the foothills of the Pyrennees. This cave, much like similar caves in the Dordogne where I had been a guide, was decorated in the late upper Palaeolithic some 14,000 years ago, with friezes of bison, horses and more abstract designs. I duly phoned the cave and booked myself for the 3.30 visit.
As I drove over the mountains to the cave I listened to the radio in the car. I tuned into the French culture programme to which I listened hoping to improve my ‘cultural’ French. The programme was about the destruction of aboriginal rock art by mining interests in Australia and consisted of the witness of various French anthropologists to the effects of mining and the unthinkable demolition of a possible 40,000 year tradition of decorative art. As one of the commentators said:
“Would we, the French, allow Lascaux to be destroyed by such actions? These paintings are at least as valuable”.
Continue reading "Once upon a time: Truth as an Expression" »
Posted by Andrew Cochrane
By Andrew Cochrane (Cardiff University).
On Wednesday 17 October 2007, the auspicious Council Chamber of the Glamorgan Building at Cardiff University, played host for a workshop dedicated to the skill enhancement of graduate and part-time teachers and new lectures in archaeology and classics. Rather than rely on more traditional approaches to lecturing and presentation, this day-school sought to illuminate alternative modes of teaching and mediation.
Continue reading "Supporting Teaching and Learning in Archaeology and Classics: a day in the life of a day school" »
Posted by Rama Krishna Pisipaty
S. Rama Krishna Pisipaty
SCSVM University,
Enathur, Kanchipuram – 631561
India
Email – pisipaty@indiainfo.com
Kanchipuram (12 degrees 50'N & 79 degrees 25'E) is one of the important cities in the southern part of India from its very beginnings. Like so many ancient cities, Kanchipuram is also situated on the banks of a river, Vegavati—a rain fed subterranean river which now rarely has a visible flow of water. Today, the present city is situated a short distance away from the existing channel. Kanchipuram was the capital of the Early Cholas dynasty as far back as the 2nd century BCE and the capital of Pallava between the 6th and 8th centuries CE. The successive dynasties from the Pallavas to the Vijayanagar kings have consciously added to the architectural and religious grandeur of the city (Nilakanta Sastri, K.A. 1966). Rich in ancient monuments and inscriptions Kanchipuram was glorified in both Sanskrit and ancient Tamil literature. It was even eulogized by the Chinese traveler, Yuanchuang (7th century CE). Kanchipuram is revered as one of the seven sacred places of the Hindues. The city was ruled by illustrious monarchs from very celebrated dynasties like the Pallavas, the Cholas, the Rastrakutas, the Vijayanagaras, the Nayakas, the Pandyas, etc. together with Muslims and Britishers (Mahalingam, T.V. 1969). The foundations of south Indian art and architecture were truly laid in the region round sixth century CE. Kailasanath, Vaikunta Perumal, Kamakshi Amman, Ekambaranath, Varadaraja, Ulagananda, etc. are some of the unique examples of their artistic activities. Furthermore, this city was destined to become a great centre of literature. Many references to it can be found in the Sangam Tamil compositions. An institution for the advanced studies in Vedas called the Ghatika (advanced study centre) was also established here and this gave literary pre-eminence to Kanchipuram (Gurumurthy, S. 1970; 1979).
Figure 1: Terracotta single Massive Ring (105 X 55 X 6 cm) TCR 15
Continue reading "Multipurpose terracotta rings and other new evidence from the South India Excavations" »
Posted by Krysta Ryzewski
The Greene Farm Archaeology Project (GFAP), in Warwick, Rhode Island, began in 2004 as a transdisciplinary and long-term project designed to facilitate research among a broad range of scholars and volunteers, using established and experimental archaeological methods. The central focus of the project is on researching 400 years of cultural and natural landscape transformations on one of the few remaining Providence Plantations (see project wiki http://proteus.brown.edu/greenefarm/Home).
Greene Farm landscape (2004).
In 2005, artist Lee Fearnside approached GFAP interested in filming a documentary called Telling Stories, focusing on how archaeologists create knowledge through discovering history. As archaeologists and historians having little knowledge or experience with filmmaking, we permitted Fearnside access to the project without considering how her work might affect our practices directly and indirectly. We were especially interested to see how Fearnside would translate and represent archaeology in her art, as she had no archaeological background except for having read Deetz’s In Small Things Forgotten. Over the course of two years, Fearnside filmed the field crew during excavations and in the laboratories. Though still a work in progress, I recently screened a rough cut of the film for the members of the Greene Farm field crew and gathered their response through a detailed survey and several discussions.
As an anthropologically trained archaeologist, I am particularly interested in examining the reception of the film by those whose work, voices, images, and interpretations appear in it. The field crew’s feedback and reactions are especially valuable in thinking about the many implications for relationships between artistic film/creative documentation and archaeology projects, and more importantly, the implications for how digital media affects archaeological practice. The following commentary focuses on an experiment stemming from the crews’ mixed reactions to the film. This is not an attempt to discuss the quality of the film (which is remarkable) or whether the filmmaker successfully captures the “creation of knowledge”. Instead, the purpose is to explore some of the questions and observations resulting from the intersection of the creative documentation and archaeological projects, as initially raised through the voices of the crew.
Continue reading "Creative Documentation and Archaeological Practice: Surveying Archaeologists on Film" »
Posted by Christopher Witmore
The disjuncture between ‘what we do’ and ‘what we say we do’ has contributed not only to a great deal of conversation and debate it has also lead to a fair amount of angst and misunderstanding in archaeology (i.e. theory/practice split or the homebase/field bifurcation). Many (myself included) firmly believe that this disjuncture can only be addressed by following up close what ‘we’ (understood to encompass people, institutions, media, materials, things, etc. which comprise an archaeologist) actually do in practice.
Anthropologists and sociologists have long enrolled ethnography and ethnomethodology as set of practices for engaging with what scientific practitioners do (this has been especially successful when they have been bold enough to free themselves from the weight of epistemology!). Hitherto, archaeology, sadly, has been in large part ignored by these practitioners (refer to my entry from October 23, 2005 and Tim Webmoor’s from November 6, 2006), though there are notable exceptions in the related field of the philosophy of science with the important work of Alison Wylie. Thankfully, the tides are changing and this is in large part due to a few archaeologists who have taken the initiative themselves.
A recent book edited by Matt Edgeworth, Ethnographies of Archaeological Practice: Cultural Encounters, Material Transformations is an example of this initiative and will help us along the path to knowing who we are! The volume pulls together a diverse and welcome body of ethnographic work with archaeology (beyond the well-known reflexive strategies operating at Çatalhöyük, Turkey) from projects throughout Europe and the Americas
Continue reading "Id quod facimus sumus! (We are what we do!) A commentary on Ethnographies of Archaeological Practice: Cultural Encounters, Material Transformations" »
Posted by Ian Russell
An artistic exploration of archaeological theory
Andrew Cochrane (Cardiff University) Ian Russell (Trinity College, Dublin)
The pieces in this exhibition seek to contest traditional mechanisms for representation and spectatorship by questioning the status that visual images occupy in archaeological discourse. Photomosaics of iconic archaeologists and archaeological objects are constructed through the manufacture of archives and archaeological records of public images available over internet search engines. This digital ‘excavation’ of what is traditionally an unarchived public space marks the beginnings of a digital archaeological practice.
Inspired by Joan Foncuberta's series of Googlegrams (2005), we call into question the ways in which archaeologists position themselves and their work within contemporary society. By juxtaposing the figures of archaeologists or archaeological artefacts with a collage of public images, the pieces reveal the manufacture of representations of archaeological identities (of archaeologists) and that of the artefacts and monuments with which they work. In addition, through the use of the world wide web and freeware, they also challenge the role that digital media are playing in the fabrication of collective archaeological visual memory, interpretation, and mediated information. Rather than merely engaging in the pasts as archaeology has previously presented them to us, views are disrupted, interrupted and displaced.
During digital ‘excavation’ records are kept of the location, context, and dimensions of each available image in order to produce an ‘archaeological record’ detailing the point in time when the search occurred. This seeks to enhance archaeological practice to confront a world which is rapidly becoming saturated by fluid and transient systems of information. In these works, Google Image searches are utilised to amass libraries of images by employing generalised search terms with no artistic intervention. These libraries are then fed through Easy Mosaic 2005 v1.2 to produce a pixel system which manufactures the original images of archaeologists and objects.
Each (in)dividual piece subverts and parodies notions of 'truth' in archaeology and the veracity of dominant images in the construction of the past and present, memory, identity, gender, emotion and agency. Such a reflexive approach generates connections between unfamiliar essences, resulting in ruptured and fragmented yet dynamic archaeologies, histories and representations.
This exhibition will be composed of between three to five 1m x 1.5m mounted images with accompanying titles cards and a separate poster introducing the exhibition.
Confirmed exhibitions include:
♦ EAA 2006. 19th - 24th September. IAE, Cracow, Poland
♦ CHAT 2006. 10th - 12th November. Bristol University
♦ TAG 2006. 15th - 17th December. University of Exeter
♦ Resisting Archaeology 2007. 17th -20th May. Uppsala University, Sweden
♦ WAC 2007. 20th -27th May. University of the West Indies, Jamaica
Full text version forthcoming with the Cambridge Archaeology Journal February 2007.
Posted by Matt Edgeworth
text by Matt Edgeworth
images by permission of Fotis Ifantidis
In the midst of beings as a whole an open place occurs. There is a clearing, a lighting... Only this clearing grants and guarantees to us humans a passage to those beings that we ourselves are not, and access to the being that we ourselves are. Martin Heidegger 1971 (1935): 53
‘Plan Générique’ by Fotis Ifantidis. http://visualizing-neolithic.blogspot.com/2006/05/plan-gnrique.html
In this short piece I sketch out why it is useful to think of excavation as a kind of clearing.
Continue reading "THE CLEARING: Heidegger and Excavation" »
Posted by Timothy Webmoor
Returning from the 'field'...some thoughts on what constitutes fieldwork. Such a pregnant term for the human sciences; replete with senses of: initiation, untowardness, difficulty, spontaneity, inauguration, maturation, practicum, discipline, validation, accreditation, as well as exoticism, travel, aristocratic pursuit and leisure. A process or 'fielding' of experience, 'fieldwork' plays an indispensable role in the training of academicians - but also of inculcating professionalism in general - so what/why is it? Is it simply the proverbial adage? application of skill is the best apprenticeship. Amazingly, though pedagogically central to these disciplines, there is little explicit discussion except in the administrator's office signing forms or expressing anxiety, or as part of a project defense; and in these instances the logistics of preparation for carrying out a project 'in the field' outweighs any mention of what type of experience it will entail. This only adds to the mystique of 'the field'. And sets up the fieldworker for the questions: is this what they hinted at with their reticent descriptions?; is this how it's supposed to go? for everyone or is this intended to be an idiosyncratic experience?
No ritual without anticipatory anxiety and then confusion, self-doubt and questioning. Eventually a re-orientation or shift somehow, bringing a re-formed confidence.
This could be discussed with respect to Van Gennep or Turner's process of ritual. And of course social/cultural anthropology, the discipline of fieldwork, has drawn this reflexive analogy. But I'd like to start with what/why fieldwork is from a ground perspective.
First, ‘an archaeology through the back door’. This relates to the sentiment of attempting to begin a project. Without using prior personal or professional connections to an archaeological field-site there is an incredible amount of leg work – or more accurately dialoging – which has to be built up incrementally in order to gain the confidence and critically the acquiescence to begin working as ‘an outsider’ @ a new site. Summer after summer I would meet more Mexican and foreign archaeologists excavating at the site and visit their camps. At the end of the day over a beer or pulque – think milk gone off mixed with tequila – perhaps after mixing a ton of concrete by hand with the site’s restorers to gain respect - there would be a verbal exchange about projects’ intentions, theoretical background, legitimacy of interests, appropriateness of Teotihuacan, etc.; generally culminating in a tour of recently excavated tunnels or trenches, chatting with the other excavators, and perhaps a ride back through the site at night on an ATV – urbanized Teotihuacan covers more than 22square km. – catching ‘privileged’ glimpses of the pyramids in moonlight not permissible for tourists.
Yet often the result is utterly discouraging: excavation leaders are uninterested in participating, or downright hostile to your theoretical intentions, days are ‘wasted’ attempting to track down ‘so and so’ who finished/is starting/is looking for help for a project, a bottle of coca-cola is thrown from a passing bus @ the strange gringo walking the streets, a run-in with feral dogs in an abandoned street, seeing a drunk man die in the mercado, being lost and alone in the northern deserts, spending days fevered and ill in bed, etc. At times that ‘back door’ only seemed to become impenetrable, and a desperate feeling builds: will I have to conduct a project ‘through the back door’ without institutional approbation and as the strange outsider/gringo – how? And how much time before its necessary to tell the academic advisors that prospects are looking bleak?
Second, though, there slowly builds a feeling of gaining ‘the inside’: guards no longer harass you but wave you through the gates, the ubiquitous vendedores of crafts (and sometimes cheap crap) no longer proposition you, señoras at the mercados recognize you – and no longer overcharge you – you’re invited to houses for dinners, senoritas begin to flirt; and then you find yourself in a cantina singing a Led Zeppelin song you barely remember, but which the señor singing Mexican ballads insists upon as a sign of good faith between the two cultures. You become part of the local gossip. Just everyday experiences; but they’re paramount in building a confidence and an inter-confidence with the site, the archaeologists, the towns, the people. And none of this ‘data’ will be part of the finished dissertation. Throughout the fieldbook, thoughts scribbled in the margins: “how am I going to use this” crop up. Critical yet not within the strictures of an archaeological report, it forms part of the ‘behind the scenes’, off the stage field-working which will continue to inform the meshing of practice and theory for the duration of the project. It also nonetheless furnishes the requisite starting point of a project – later condensed and edited for the revealing and liberating personal prefatory remarks. At this point, the ‘limen’ or threshold of Van Gennep’s scheme seems to still hold as a concise metaphor for this experience of imperceptibly gaining a new vista– of the possibility of conducting and concluding the project. Something critical has been crossed.
But this takes a while (not quantifiable) as you, your demeanor, your spoken Spanish, your institutional standing, your generosity, your clothing, your amiability, your propensity to drink/or not and so forth are all studied and the conclusions evaluated. Really, it constitutes an intimate defense of the project’s fieldwork.
Third, once a measure of momentum builds, the project unexpectedly take off. All that ‘pointless pandering’ in the towns, with the local archaeologists and tourists, at local festivals, affords a familiarity which abruptly makes the project viable and, even better, builds an interest in what you are doing. Suddenly, I am asked for questionnaires and times to chat for interested brothers, knowledgeable grandparents, disgruntled employees of the site wanting an outlet for their opinion, local ‘traditional’ leaders who are conducting fasts in opposition to a new Walmart, ‘new age’ Toltec shamans meditating in the site who believe in ‘black light’ conduits of spiritual experience, and for once aloof archaeologists who now want ‘their story’ to be included. This is the rewarding part. And though fleeting, the ‘hope’ should be recorded for reading through the fieldbook later on: “yes, thank god it’s somehow coming together. Letting things unfold w/o expectations, and people and opportunities present themselves – I let it unfold without forcing” (p.159 fieldbook).
Fourth, the security in the project is fleeting and circumstances continue to place you in an ‘over-exposed’, vulnerable position. Not that the momentum of the project has slackened, but ever new happenstances present themselves which poise to threaten the progress. The new director – as with ever-changing political contexts – of the site sends his guards to collect you in their pick-up for an impromptu meeting. Things have changed since the meeting with the original director: the governmental institute overseeing the archaeological zone has created their own questionnaire, and mine is now seen as competition with the ‘official census’. Moreover, he is displeased with the questions targeting the institute, and he is concerned about the critical opinions of the employees. I should preface this by stating that the director has an uncanny resemblance to Fidel Castro, replete with obsequious assistants running to and fro and a large cigar. He would like me to discontinue working within the zone. A set-back; yet I already have a sufficient number of completed questionnaires from internal employees, and am already at the decisive stage in fieldwork where the question becomes: one can always collect more information, more contacts, but balancing that with the progress already made and the financial and temporal constraints of continuing, do I have enough to produce a convincing and compelling dissertation? Part and parcel with the behind the scenes ‘establishment phase’, this represents another crucial topic of fieldwork rarely explicitly discussed – and certainly not quantifiable in definite terms. Somehow my guidance for this portion came solely from a nondescript, almost folkloric saying: ‘you will know when the time is right.’ My ‘field’ component of the fieldwork was winding down. And at the time, I knew that the ability to make this decision was somehow an encapsulating learning experience in my ‘fielding’: identifying an interesting project, locating it materially where it would be most salient and potentially poignant, stepping-off into the vagaries of ‘background work’, and making the project feasible all appear to be contained within that singular moment when theoretical interest and lived-through practical application collude in the judgment ‘I have enough to write this fieldwork.’
There it is again: ‘fieldwork’. But such a realization quickly makes one certain of the dispersed and distributed nature of ‘fieldwork’. It was not over. I would be reworking and generating anew information for my dissertation long after my flight back north over the Chihuahuan deserts. Chris Witmore has pointed up this heterogenous, un-contained nature of ‘multiple fields’ of production. Where did the fieldwork begin and end? Even while in the preliminary stages in Mexico I was far from gathering data. And now back, much information will still be collected via the internet in the form of newspaper articles and e-mail exchanges. Can we only lodge a definition in physical terms: the presence in Mexico, whatever form it took, constituted my fieldwork? This contains some of the ‘field of production’ for my dissertation, but much slips by. ‘The field’ for me might have been geographically encapsulated by the valley of Teotihuacan, but the fields of engagement and production extend to my room cluttered with notes and papers, to conference locales where the material is worked through, and even cybernetically, with material being continually worked and reworked on my computer, and through its connection to servers sitting distributed over various non-places.
Perhaps then I would, if forced, land on a definition in terms of a state of being; something closer to an emotional state than anything else. There doesn’t seem to be a concise word to summarize the travails of being simultaneously driven for a purpose and ‘on’ in every sense of the word, while simultaneously being vulnerable, of allowing oneself to be a neophyte open to happenstance and opportunity. A paradox, a process indefinable in temporal and physical terms and yet definite in experience and memory, ‘fielding’ may better capture the dynamic Being, the what, why and how, of fieldwork.
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