Symbology is the study of symbols within cultural contexts. Modern symbols with which we are familiar are the bald eagle representing the United States, an olive branch representing peace, or a heart representing love. To a larger degree, we employ symbols in the flags that identify our state. Virginia's flag, for example, shows a soldier -- a woman -- standing with her foot on the slain body of a monarch who has lost his crown. The woman, according to the Code of Virginia, is "Virtus the genius of the Commonwealth, dressed as an Amazon." She represents the Roman virtue, Virtus, carrying connotations of valor and courage. The fallen man is Tyranny, representing the Tyrannical Great Britain felled, in part, by Virginia -- notice the man's crown on the ground nearby. Virtus also carries a spear, pointed down into the ground, and a sword, still sheathed, representing authority.
Virginia adopted this flag in 1861 at the beginning of the American Civil War. At the same time, the fledgling Confederate States of America began searching for a flag of their own. General P.G.T. Beauregard proposed an idea for two different flags, one for peace or parades, and one for war or the battlefield. A number of different flags for the various seceded states, and even regimental flags created confusion on the battlefield. Early Confederate battle flags so closely resembled the United States flag, especially in colors, that they could be indistinguishable from one another at a distance.
The flag we know today as the Confederate flag, or Confederate battle flag was never truly used to represent the Confederate states as a nation. It is a blend of elements from Confederate battle flags and Naval Jacks that has come to represent the Confederacy, and the South at large.
Its color elements, a very familiar red, white, and blue originate in the flag of the United States of America. Immediately following secession, there was a great deal of public support for keeping the old US flag, at least in some capacity. The colors remained in use throughout the Confederacy's short history. The number of stars, 13 in all, represent the eleven states of the Confederacy, and two stars to represent Missouri and Kentucky which later joined the Confederacy in disputed agreements. The crossing blue bars form a St. Andrew's cross, also called a saltire, in the shape of an X. This is supposedly the type of cross upon which St. Andrew was crucified. Curiously, there seems to be no specific association between St. Andrew and the Confederacy; it may simply have been an aesthetic choice.
The Confederate flag today carries a complex mix of connotations, ranging from pride and heritage to racism and hate. It means different things to different people, to be sure.
This Saturday, Riddick's Folly will host Abolitionists' Museum, a theatrical work featuring eight historical abolitionists debating the subject of what we call the Confederate flag. It's worth noting that some of these eight figures did not live to even see the flag, and that the others did not live to see it become the somewhat controversial symbol that it has become. In this context, their thoughts seem out of place, or even irrelevant. However, the play, which uses large portions of the characters' writings or speeches, offers them a chance to tell their story in our time, and to offer what thoughts they may have had on this symbol, should they be alive today. A post-show discussion with the audience will follow the performances, allowing an exchange of ideas and a thoughtful dialogue on a subject with no real "right" or "wrong" answers.
Abolitionists' Museum takes place on Saturday, February 21st with performances at 1:00 pm and 3:00 pm at Riddick's Folly.
Showing posts with label Riddick's Folly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Riddick's Folly. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Paint
Some years ago, when restoration first began on Riddick's Folly, paint scrapings were taken for analysis in the house's front parlor. The tests indicated that the oldest of the numerous layers of paint was "Prussian Blue," sometimes called "Berlin Blue." If you're wondering, it looks closest to this color. While the restoration of the parlor utilized a different color scheme, it did reveal a lot about interior decorating of the early 19th century.
One of the more intriguing things we see is that little to no attention was paid to coordinating the various colors in a room, no less from one room to another. The Prussian Blue found in the door molding was probably different from the paint, which would have been different from the furniture upholstery, different from any rugs, and so on. It seems that our careful coordination of pleasing color combinations may have been a bit hasty.
Though the expense will prohibit us from correcting this any time soon, we do have another trick we can play. A fairly common practice of the time period was to paint not just the walls and molding, but also the ceiling. Specifically, the crown molding would often be a shade half as light as the walls, and the ceiling would then be half as light as that. With the prominent white plaster medallion in the front parlor, adding this touch of color would make it rather impressive.
Taking inspiration from the capital improvements underway at Riddick's Folly, we would like to incorporate the new paint scheme as soon as possible. If it sounds expensive, it can be. If you'd like to contribute (hint, hint) toward the painting, please contact the museum office. That would help a lot.
Otherwise, stay tuned for updates on this, as well as our other continuing restoration work.
One of the more intriguing things we see is that little to no attention was paid to coordinating the various colors in a room, no less from one room to another. The Prussian Blue found in the door molding was probably different from the paint, which would have been different from the furniture upholstery, different from any rugs, and so on. It seems that our careful coordination of pleasing color combinations may have been a bit hasty.
Though the expense will prohibit us from correcting this any time soon, we do have another trick we can play. A fairly common practice of the time period was to paint not just the walls and molding, but also the ceiling. Specifically, the crown molding would often be a shade half as light as the walls, and the ceiling would then be half as light as that. With the prominent white plaster medallion in the front parlor, adding this touch of color would make it rather impressive.
Taking inspiration from the capital improvements underway at Riddick's Folly, we would like to incorporate the new paint scheme as soon as possible. If it sounds expensive, it can be. If you'd like to contribute (hint, hint) toward the painting, please contact the museum office. That would help a lot.
Otherwise, stay tuned for updates on this, as well as our other continuing restoration work.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Riddick's Folly is in the midst of a capital improvement project, consisting of five repair and restoration tasks being performed by the Phoenix Corporation of Newport News. This project carries a price tag of $135,000, footed entirely by the tax-payers of the City of Suffolk. That we are grateful for this should go without saying, but we'll say it anyway. We're grateful.
It gets me thinking about the two-way responsibility of a museum to its community, and vice-versa. We hold objects, documents, funds, and even the building itself in the public trust. These items may legally belong to us, but morally and practically, they belong to our community. Riddick's Folly is not just a well-decorated club house for the staff and volunteers; it's a functional place where people can come to learn about their history and their community's history.
In exchange, the people should take ownership in Riddick's Folly. This is their history, and they each have a hand in maintaining it, interpreting it, and preserving it for others. Some are more active than others, of course. Some become members of the museum; others volunteer their time; still others serve on the museum's Board of Directors. And for those who don't do any of those things, they still have a role in supporting the museum and in shaping its purpose.
Their local tax dollars help to fund our operations, and from time to time, they fund the necessary improvements to the building that keep it safe and sound. Their visits to the museum with friends or family help to spread the word about what we do. Conversely, if they don't visit, it tells us that what we're doing is either not appealing, or not publicized enough. And so we adapt.
Our improvement project will hang new shutters around the building, shore up the masonry, install new gutters (long overdue!), apply new paint to the peeling and cracking exterior, provide new storm windows, and help to repair and maintain our air handling systems. $135,000 goes quickly!
It gets me thinking about the two-way responsibility of a museum to its community, and vice-versa. We hold objects, documents, funds, and even the building itself in the public trust. These items may legally belong to us, but morally and practically, they belong to our community. Riddick's Folly is not just a well-decorated club house for the staff and volunteers; it's a functional place where people can come to learn about their history and their community's history.
In exchange, the people should take ownership in Riddick's Folly. This is their history, and they each have a hand in maintaining it, interpreting it, and preserving it for others. Some are more active than others, of course. Some become members of the museum; others volunteer their time; still others serve on the museum's Board of Directors. And for those who don't do any of those things, they still have a role in supporting the museum and in shaping its purpose.
Their local tax dollars help to fund our operations, and from time to time, they fund the necessary improvements to the building that keep it safe and sound. Their visits to the museum with friends or family help to spread the word about what we do. Conversely, if they don't visit, it tells us that what we're doing is either not appealing, or not publicized enough. And so we adapt.
Our improvement project will hang new shutters around the building, shore up the masonry, install new gutters (long overdue!), apply new paint to the peeling and cracking exterior, provide new storm windows, and help to repair and maintain our air handling systems. $135,000 goes quickly!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Free Money!
Ok, so you're thinking to yourself, "I'd really like to make a contribution to Riddick's Folly, but I'm strapped for cash." We understand, and we've got a solution for you.
Go to GoodSearch.com and search the internet as you normally would. If you select Riddick's Folly as your charity, GoodSearch.com will donate about $0.01 to us every time you search for anything. You can add it to your web browser, make it your home page, anything you like. It costs us nothing, it costs you nothing, but we make money and you find what you were looking for -- everybody wins!
Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "How does a penny help Riddick's Folly? Can't you just find that under a couch cushion?"
Well, for starters, our couch cushions date to the 1840s, so if we found a penny, it would probably need to be on display as an exhibit (also, due to inflation, that penny would be worth roughly $0.25, beyond its collector's value). Besides, pennies add up. If we get just 100 people searching just twice a day, we could make more than $700 a year, and it's free.
File this under Better Late Than Never, but if you do your shopping through GoodSearch.com's sister site, GoodShop.com, we'll also receive a portion of that.
See? You can make that contribution after all.
Go to GoodSearch.com and search the internet as you normally would. If you select Riddick's Folly as your charity, GoodSearch.com will donate about $0.01 to us every time you search for anything. You can add it to your web browser, make it your home page, anything you like. It costs us nothing, it costs you nothing, but we make money and you find what you were looking for -- everybody wins!
Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "How does a penny help Riddick's Folly? Can't you just find that under a couch cushion?"
Well, for starters, our couch cushions date to the 1840s, so if we found a penny, it would probably need to be on display as an exhibit (also, due to inflation, that penny would be worth roughly $0.25, beyond its collector's value). Besides, pennies add up. If we get just 100 people searching just twice a day, we could make more than $700 a year, and it's free.
File this under Better Late Than Never, but if you do your shopping through GoodSearch.com's sister site, GoodShop.com, we'll also receive a portion of that.
See? You can make that contribution after all.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Educating All The Way
"Christmas at Riddick's Folly" was our event. On Friday, December 5th, more than 150 visitors waited outside in the cold, some for more than an hour and a half, to witness our new program. Live holiday music from the Brass Choir of Old Dominion University entertained them, but the real treat waited within.
Each tour saw vignettes of the Riddicks, their friends, their slaves, and their house from 1860 through 1865. The talk of impending war, the optimistic belief that the war would last only a few months, the realization that war had changed everything, and the recognition of a new kind of freedom... these were the topics that filled the halls and walls of Riddick's Folly.
What struck us, as we read through our evaluation forms, is that no one was prepared for this kind of experience. Many said they expected a house tour, and a few were even disappointed that this wasn't just a house tour. But the real encouragement came when we began looking at the responses, and fully 100% found the event to be "very educational" or "somewhat educational." That's a home run in anyone's book.
It's easy to get wrapped up in details. Are these ornaments period appropriate? Would candles or oil lamps have been used here? What kinds of desserts would have been on this table? And though we tried to get as many details right as possible, we know we missed some. We know we cut some corners here and there to let our core issues shine through. Judging by the responses we got, I think we made the right decisions.
As easy as it is to get absorbed in minutia, it's also easy to forget that our primary function is education. There are 22 public schools in the City of Suffolk. There are private schools and home schooled groups as well, not to mention community colleges and vocational schools. Local churches, the Suffolk-Nansemond Historical Society, the Suffolk Art League, and the Suffolk Center for Cultural Arts also host educational programs of various stripes. All of these organizations and institutions are educating, and that's just in Suffolk.
All that education, but only 16% of 8th graders nationwide ranked "proficient" or above in U.S. History*. Clearly we still have work to do, but programs like this one mean we're heading in the right direction. Look for more to come.
*Data from the National Center for Education Statistics
Each tour saw vignettes of the Riddicks, their friends, their slaves, and their house from 1860 through 1865. The talk of impending war, the optimistic belief that the war would last only a few months, the realization that war had changed everything, and the recognition of a new kind of freedom... these were the topics that filled the halls and walls of Riddick's Folly.
What struck us, as we read through our evaluation forms, is that no one was prepared for this kind of experience. Many said they expected a house tour, and a few were even disappointed that this wasn't just a house tour. But the real encouragement came when we began looking at the responses, and fully 100% found the event to be "very educational" or "somewhat educational." That's a home run in anyone's book.
It's easy to get wrapped up in details. Are these ornaments period appropriate? Would candles or oil lamps have been used here? What kinds of desserts would have been on this table? And though we tried to get as many details right as possible, we know we missed some. We know we cut some corners here and there to let our core issues shine through. Judging by the responses we got, I think we made the right decisions.
As easy as it is to get absorbed in minutia, it's also easy to forget that our primary function is education. There are 22 public schools in the City of Suffolk. There are private schools and home schooled groups as well, not to mention community colleges and vocational schools. Local churches, the Suffolk-Nansemond Historical Society, the Suffolk Art League, and the Suffolk Center for Cultural Arts also host educational programs of various stripes. All of these organizations and institutions are educating, and that's just in Suffolk.
All that education, but only 16% of 8th graders nationwide ranked "proficient" or above in U.S. History*. Clearly we still have work to do, but programs like this one mean we're heading in the right direction. Look for more to come.
*Data from the National Center for Education Statistics
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
A Big Tree
It was the Germans that came up with the idea of bringing a tree into the home at Christmas time, but its exact origins are unclear. Decorated trees could be found in cathedrals as far back as the 16th century, but in the United States, its emergence as a holiday standard did not come until the 19th century.
At first, table-top trees were in vogue. These could be just a few feet tall, but brilliantly decorated with fruits and berries, flowers, and candles. By the time of the Civil War, the Christmas tree was in the midst of an evolution into its current form -- the full tree standing in a room.
In the front parlor of Riddick's Folly, you will find such a tree now. A 12-foot monster, one of downtown Suffolk's largest indoor trees. True to the period, it has been decorated with ribbons, candles, and origami -- a new fashion from the Far East. What's off is the timing.
Ordinarily, trees were not brought into the house until Christmas Eve, December 24th. They would stay until Twelfth Night, the last night of Advent. We're a bit early in order to have the tree on display during our upcoming holiday program.
Here are some photos of our new tree.
At first, table-top trees were in vogue. These could be just a few feet tall, but brilliantly decorated with fruits and berries, flowers, and candles. By the time of the Civil War, the Christmas tree was in the midst of an evolution into its current form -- the full tree standing in a room.
In the front parlor of Riddick's Folly, you will find such a tree now. A 12-foot monster, one of downtown Suffolk's largest indoor trees. True to the period, it has been decorated with ribbons, candles, and origami -- a new fashion from the Far East. What's off is the timing.
Ordinarily, trees were not brought into the house until Christmas Eve, December 24th. They would stay until Twelfth Night, the last night of Advent. We're a bit early in order to have the tree on display during our upcoming holiday program.
Here are some photos of our new tree.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
A Proclamation of Thanksgiving
For most of us, the term "First Thanksgiving" evokes images of Pilgrims and Native Americans and turkeys. While the details of that meal may not be quite right, the sentiment is great. But the official day of Thanksgiving was not declared until 1863 by President Abraham Lincoln. During the Civil War. Before an election year.
With no further pretext, enjoy his original proclamation below.
By the President of the United States of America.
A Proclamation.
The year that is drawing towards its close, has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God. In the midst of a civil war of unequaled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign States to invite and to provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere except in the theatre of military conflict; while that theatre has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union. Needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defence, have not arrested the plough, the shuttle or the ship; the axe has enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well of iron and coal as of the precious metals, have yielded even more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased, notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege and the battle-field; and the country, rejoicing in the consciousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large increase of freedom. No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union.
In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the Seal of the United States to be affixed.
Done at the City of Washington, this Third day of October, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and of the Independence of the Unites States the Eighty-eighth.
By the President: Abraham Lincoln
William H. Seward*,
Secretary of State
*Secretary of State William Seward is believed to have slept in Riddick's Folly earlier in 1863 following the "Siege of Suffolk."
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Christmas at Riddick's Folly
It's easy to take for granted what goes into a major reenactment, like our Christmas event on December 5th. Visitors see the final product, learn a little something, have a good time, and their whole experience takes less than an hour. The time spent producing such an event are numerous.
The costumes for our Christmas event have taken several hundred hours to produce, including several hems of more than 200 inches. The script for our event went through four drafts before the final version landed in the hands of our actors and actresses. The 12-foot Christmas tree that will stand in our front parlor will take about three hours to decorate, and that doesn't count the time spent decorating the rest of the museum.
Then there's the advertising -- writing copy, laying out print ads, updating a blog...
We haven't even gotten to a rehearsal yet, haven't discussed the research that went into the script in the first place, the fund raising to pay for everything, the time spent by volunteers cleaning, practicing, and organizing... even as I write this I'm realizing more and more of what's gone into this event.
But you're not interested in all that. Unless you are, in which case you should absolutely volunteer at Riddick's Folly. Anyway, the event takes place on Friday, December 5th from 7:00 pm to 10:00 pm. Tickets are $3.50 per person, or just $5.00 per family. Come and see. Come and learn.
The costumes for our Christmas event have taken several hundred hours to produce, including several hems of more than 200 inches. The script for our event went through four drafts before the final version landed in the hands of our actors and actresses. The 12-foot Christmas tree that will stand in our front parlor will take about three hours to decorate, and that doesn't count the time spent decorating the rest of the museum.
Then there's the advertising -- writing copy, laying out print ads, updating a blog...
We haven't even gotten to a rehearsal yet, haven't discussed the research that went into the script in the first place, the fund raising to pay for everything, the time spent by volunteers cleaning, practicing, and organizing... even as I write this I'm realizing more and more of what's gone into this event.
But you're not interested in all that. Unless you are, in which case you should absolutely volunteer at Riddick's Folly. Anyway, the event takes place on Friday, December 5th from 7:00 pm to 10:00 pm. Tickets are $3.50 per person, or just $5.00 per family. Come and see. Come and learn.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Grown-up children's programs
For several years, Riddick's Folly has offered children's programming focused on the American Girl book series. These programs exposed young girls to the life and lifestyles of their counterparts throughout American history. Now, after hundreds of girls learned lasting and meaningful lessons, Riddick's Folly bids adieu to the American Girl program.
This isn't to say that there will be no more children's programming at Riddick's Folly. On the contrary, next year's calendar has more children's events than ever before. The question is, if the American Girl programs were so popular and so successful, why change?
The reason is relevance. The mission of Riddick's Folly is to provide a tangible link to our community's history through the portrayal of the 19th century Riddick family home. While one or two of the American Girl characters fit rather nicely into our mission, most do not. And none, as you can imagine, are related to the Riddicks.
Instead, we've come up with a series of new programs tailored not just to young girls, but also to young boys, oft neglected by Riddick's Folly in previous years. These programs will be no less inspirational or substantial. Their relevance to our mission, and the variety of their content make them more impactful than anything we've tried before.
We start next year with a tea for the ladies, hosted by Mrs. Mary Taylor Riddick. She will entertain the ladies, teach them the history of tea, talk about life and literature of the early to mid-19th century, and allow plenty of time for socializing.
Mr. Mills Riddick hosts a similar session for young men with coffee and desserts, and a conversation about the roles of young men in the same time period.
In the summer, we offer a day-long experience for boys and girls exploring in greater detail the games, lessons, and lifestyles of boys and girls around the time of the Civil War. We hope to offer this as part of a rotating camp with the Suffolk-Nansemond Historical Society, the Suffolk Art League, and the Suffolk Center for Cultural Arts.
In the fall, boys and girls, and men and women alike will be invited to attend a mixed cotillion, the ultimate venue for learning "proper" social interactions with the opposite sex. We will give lessons during the day on 19th century dancing and etiquette, and in the evening, all are welcome to attend the cotillion to show what they have learned, and to enjoy each other's company.
We will also host an 1860s picnic for families. Period cooking techniques will be on display, and parents and children can enjoy the party atmosphere.
And for the braver children, Edgar Allan Poe will visit Riddick's Folly in October to tell some of his darkest tales in the spirit of Halloween.
So as we say goodbye to the American Girls, we welcome children back to Riddick's Folly to see more, do more, and learn more about their community's history in the 19th century.
Be sure to check out our website as our new events will be listed soon.
This isn't to say that there will be no more children's programming at Riddick's Folly. On the contrary, next year's calendar has more children's events than ever before. The question is, if the American Girl programs were so popular and so successful, why change?
The reason is relevance. The mission of Riddick's Folly is to provide a tangible link to our community's history through the portrayal of the 19th century Riddick family home. While one or two of the American Girl characters fit rather nicely into our mission, most do not. And none, as you can imagine, are related to the Riddicks.
Instead, we've come up with a series of new programs tailored not just to young girls, but also to young boys, oft neglected by Riddick's Folly in previous years. These programs will be no less inspirational or substantial. Their relevance to our mission, and the variety of their content make them more impactful than anything we've tried before.
We start next year with a tea for the ladies, hosted by Mrs. Mary Taylor Riddick. She will entertain the ladies, teach them the history of tea, talk about life and literature of the early to mid-19th century, and allow plenty of time for socializing.
Mr. Mills Riddick hosts a similar session for young men with coffee and desserts, and a conversation about the roles of young men in the same time period.
In the summer, we offer a day-long experience for boys and girls exploring in greater detail the games, lessons, and lifestyles of boys and girls around the time of the Civil War. We hope to offer this as part of a rotating camp with the Suffolk-Nansemond Historical Society, the Suffolk Art League, and the Suffolk Center for Cultural Arts.
In the fall, boys and girls, and men and women alike will be invited to attend a mixed cotillion, the ultimate venue for learning "proper" social interactions with the opposite sex. We will give lessons during the day on 19th century dancing and etiquette, and in the evening, all are welcome to attend the cotillion to show what they have learned, and to enjoy each other's company.
We will also host an 1860s picnic for families. Period cooking techniques will be on display, and parents and children can enjoy the party atmosphere.
And for the braver children, Edgar Allan Poe will visit Riddick's Folly in October to tell some of his darkest tales in the spirit of Halloween.
So as we say goodbye to the American Girls, we welcome children back to Riddick's Folly to see more, do more, and learn more about their community's history in the 19th century.
Be sure to check out our website as our new events will be listed soon.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
We are all historians
When you work in history long enough, it becomes difficult to focus on current events and to evaluate them in a contemporary context. Every historian loves/lives to look at today's headlines and to compare them to those of the past, to see how a decision 200 years ago might have affected this or that. Last night, if just for a moment, we all became historians.
Senator Barack Obama was elected to the Presidency of the United States. An African-American was chosen for the highest office in the land, and we all witnessed it. Working in a building that was built by African-American slaves, paid for by their slave labor, and served by their unending domestic toil, I truly marveled at the sight. The contrast is simply amazing.
Non-profits get in trouble when they espouse political opinions, especially those that seem to endorse one candidate over another, so I won't do that here. I will say that the election represented a new level of maturity for all of us. We evaluated the merits of one candidate against another, and chose the man most qualified, not the man who most resembled us.
What does that mean for a house built when President-Elect Obama's ancestors were literally chained to one another? It means that the stories we tell here, and the lessons we offer about generations of slaveholders and slaves are all the more significant. We all become historians, and we all compare this new reality to our old one. When you see the laundry room, the kitchen, the low, plain, uncomfortable slave bed here at Riddick's Folly, you can now take solace that America demonstrated its ability to change, to self-correct, that America has made great strides in recovery from an illness that led to Civil War and Civil Rights.
Next spring, Riddick's Folly will host a traveling exhibit focusing on domestic servitude in the 19th century. We made arrangements to host this exhibit before last night, but after the election, we hope it will be all the more significant, poignant, and meaningful to those that see it.
In the meantime, like true historians, we look back. But maybe we can also, finally, look forward.
Senator Barack Obama was elected to the Presidency of the United States. An African-American was chosen for the highest office in the land, and we all witnessed it. Working in a building that was built by African-American slaves, paid for by their slave labor, and served by their unending domestic toil, I truly marveled at the sight. The contrast is simply amazing.
Non-profits get in trouble when they espouse political opinions, especially those that seem to endorse one candidate over another, so I won't do that here. I will say that the election represented a new level of maturity for all of us. We evaluated the merits of one candidate against another, and chose the man most qualified, not the man who most resembled us.
What does that mean for a house built when President-Elect Obama's ancestors were literally chained to one another? It means that the stories we tell here, and the lessons we offer about generations of slaveholders and slaves are all the more significant. We all become historians, and we all compare this new reality to our old one. When you see the laundry room, the kitchen, the low, plain, uncomfortable slave bed here at Riddick's Folly, you can now take solace that America demonstrated its ability to change, to self-correct, that America has made great strides in recovery from an illness that led to Civil War and Civil Rights.
Next spring, Riddick's Folly will host a traveling exhibit focusing on domestic servitude in the 19th century. We made arrangements to host this exhibit before last night, but after the election, we hope it will be all the more significant, poignant, and meaningful to those that see it.
In the meantime, like true historians, we look back. But maybe we can also, finally, look forward.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Lard
When the oldest child moves out of the house, the rest of the children usually fight over his/her room. If Riddick's Folly's various exhibits and purposes are children, this analogy quite nicely reflects what will happen in less than two weeks when the peanut exhibit comes down.
The room in which that exhibit currently resides was formerly the house's pantry and larder room. Its windows offer a street-level (literally!) view of Main Street and the sidewalk leading to the front steps of the house. That it has these windows makes it an optimal place for our gift shop, but an unusual place for a larder room.
Typically, the larder room, pantry, and kitchen all occupied separate buildings on the property. These buildings, along with a smokehouse, an ice house, and a root cellar made up most of the support facilities for life in the house. Mills Riddick's design for his house brought the kitchen, laundry room, and larder room all into his basement -- Riddick's Folly, indeed.
Of these, perhaps the larder room made the most sense. It required a cool place, such as a basement, and its proximity to the kitchen would have been convenient to be sure. The larder room takes its name from -- you guessed it -- lard. Meats would be partially cooked or smoked, and then stored in vats of lard to keep them until they were ready for final cooking and preparation. As it needed no fire for its operation, there was no risk of damage or destruction, at least from that. Such was obviously not the case for the kitchen, or even the laundry room for that matter.
The house's former kitchen houses the gift shop at the moment, but its lack of natural light and its unnatural ceiling (protruding in places with 20th century ductwork) make it more like a cave than a shop, certainly not the kind of place in which one would feel comfortable shopping. Its windows once looked out on the Riddick family's garden, and its close proximity to the family's smokehouse made the kitchen's location in the basement rather handy. When the family added on a side porch in the early 20th century, the kitchen's windows looked out on nothing but a wall, and the smokehouse was torn down. On top of this, the family constructed a new, modern kitchen as a separate wing on the rear of the building, just off the back parlor which was then used as a dining room.
It makes sense, then to relocate our gift shop to the former pantry/larder room/peanut gallery. Not only does the gift shop get a better location with windows, but we can now restore the period kitchen to make more complete our presentation of the Riddicks' 19th century home.
However, for the time being, that presentation will be a little light. So far we have only a dry sink and a jelly cupboard to fill the space, making interpretation akin to games of make-believe we play when we're younger (though it's too bad we stop playing them). We'll address this over time, sure, but the walls will be awfully bare for a while.
There is the matter of the smokehouse, but that's the subject of another post. Stay tuned.
The room in which that exhibit currently resides was formerly the house's pantry and larder room. Its windows offer a street-level (literally!) view of Main Street and the sidewalk leading to the front steps of the house. That it has these windows makes it an optimal place for our gift shop, but an unusual place for a larder room.
Typically, the larder room, pantry, and kitchen all occupied separate buildings on the property. These buildings, along with a smokehouse, an ice house, and a root cellar made up most of the support facilities for life in the house. Mills Riddick's design for his house brought the kitchen, laundry room, and larder room all into his basement -- Riddick's Folly, indeed.
Of these, perhaps the larder room made the most sense. It required a cool place, such as a basement, and its proximity to the kitchen would have been convenient to be sure. The larder room takes its name from -- you guessed it -- lard. Meats would be partially cooked or smoked, and then stored in vats of lard to keep them until they were ready for final cooking and preparation. As it needed no fire for its operation, there was no risk of damage or destruction, at least from that. Such was obviously not the case for the kitchen, or even the laundry room for that matter.
The house's former kitchen houses the gift shop at the moment, but its lack of natural light and its unnatural ceiling (protruding in places with 20th century ductwork) make it more like a cave than a shop, certainly not the kind of place in which one would feel comfortable shopping. Its windows once looked out on the Riddick family's garden, and its close proximity to the family's smokehouse made the kitchen's location in the basement rather handy. When the family added on a side porch in the early 20th century, the kitchen's windows looked out on nothing but a wall, and the smokehouse was torn down. On top of this, the family constructed a new, modern kitchen as a separate wing on the rear of the building, just off the back parlor which was then used as a dining room.
It makes sense, then to relocate our gift shop to the former pantry/larder room/peanut gallery. Not only does the gift shop get a better location with windows, but we can now restore the period kitchen to make more complete our presentation of the Riddicks' 19th century home.
However, for the time being, that presentation will be a little light. So far we have only a dry sink and a jelly cupboard to fill the space, making interpretation akin to games of make-believe we play when we're younger (though it's too bad we stop playing them). We'll address this over time, sure, but the walls will be awfully bare for a while.
There is the matter of the smokehouse, but that's the subject of another post. Stay tuned.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Exhibits
We're well on our way to having the new, permanent Civil War exhibit installed. The cabinets are in place with fresh paint, and lighting will be installed in the next two weeks.
The exhibit will focus doubly on the military occupation of Suffolk. This won't just be the perspective of the Union soldiers stationed here, but also of the citizens of Suffolk who lived under military rule.
The citizens who stayed behind signed a document called the "Parole of Honor." This was essentially an agreement between the occupiers and the occupied that the former would not interfere in the affairs of the latter, so long as the latter made no attempt to overthrow the former.
Those citizens left behind were mostly women, children, and the elderly, all unable to serve in either army. We recently acquired an 1863 article from a Charleston, South Carolina newspaper talking about Suffolk, specifically mentioning the Riddicks. Newspaper articles such as this pair well with photographs of soldiers generously donated to us to provide an interesting counterpoint to the 100+ pieces of military hardware that otherwise dominate the exhibit.
In the meantime, we say goodbye to the peanut. For years, Riddick's Folly has been the home of Suffolk's only exhibit on peanuts. Given Suffolk's history with the legumes, an exhibit is certainly warranted, just not here.
On September 1st, the peanut exhibit will come down for good at Riddick's Folly as we focus on our mission to portray 19th century life through the lens of the Riddick family. Peanuts in Suffolk didn't become a phenomenon until the 20th century, and even then, that had little to do with the Riddicks and their descendants. If you'd like to see the Peanut exhibit, be sure to stop by while it's still around. In September, the items will go to their original owners where possible, and otherwise to the Suffolk-Nansemond Historical Society.
The exhibit will focus doubly on the military occupation of Suffolk. This won't just be the perspective of the Union soldiers stationed here, but also of the citizens of Suffolk who lived under military rule.
The citizens who stayed behind signed a document called the "Parole of Honor." This was essentially an agreement between the occupiers and the occupied that the former would not interfere in the affairs of the latter, so long as the latter made no attempt to overthrow the former.
Those citizens left behind were mostly women, children, and the elderly, all unable to serve in either army. We recently acquired an 1863 article from a Charleston, South Carolina newspaper talking about Suffolk, specifically mentioning the Riddicks. Newspaper articles such as this pair well with photographs of soldiers generously donated to us to provide an interesting counterpoint to the 100+ pieces of military hardware that otherwise dominate the exhibit.
In the meantime, we say goodbye to the peanut. For years, Riddick's Folly has been the home of Suffolk's only exhibit on peanuts. Given Suffolk's history with the legumes, an exhibit is certainly warranted, just not here.
On September 1st, the peanut exhibit will come down for good at Riddick's Folly as we focus on our mission to portray 19th century life through the lens of the Riddick family. Peanuts in Suffolk didn't become a phenomenon until the 20th century, and even then, that had little to do with the Riddicks and their descendants. If you'd like to see the Peanut exhibit, be sure to stop by while it's still around. In September, the items will go to their original owners where possible, and otherwise to the Suffolk-Nansemond Historical Society.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Internal Affairs
First, we want to congratulate Lee King on his new title change. Mr. King has served as Assistant Director at Riddick's Folly for 17 years. In recognition of his long service and dedication, Mr. King is now the Curator of Riddick's Folly.
Second, we have to publicly acknowledge a disappointment. Last year, less than a penny of every dollar Riddick's Folly spent went to programs and services. This wasn't due to any scandal, and no money was wasted. This is merely a wake-up call, a time for us to consider our mission and the community we try to serve. We promise to do better.
Third, and finally, we received a number of bids to work on the sundry repairs and renovations Riddick's Folly needs. Unfortunately, none of these bids fell within the price range of the money allocated for this project, but some of our needs could likely be deferred, and we hope to begin work in the next few weeks. In that time, we'll maintain our normal operating hours, so don't be shy about coming to see us.
Second, we have to publicly acknowledge a disappointment. Last year, less than a penny of every dollar Riddick's Folly spent went to programs and services. This wasn't due to any scandal, and no money was wasted. This is merely a wake-up call, a time for us to consider our mission and the community we try to serve. We promise to do better.
Third, and finally, we received a number of bids to work on the sundry repairs and renovations Riddick's Folly needs. Unfortunately, none of these bids fell within the price range of the money allocated for this project, but some of our needs could likely be deferred, and we hope to begin work in the next few weeks. In that time, we'll maintain our normal operating hours, so don't be shy about coming to see us.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Weapons of War
Secession set up the Civil War, but it was cannon fire that started it. The colonies didn't like Great Britain much (or at least some of the things GB was doing), but it wasn't until Lexington and Concord that it was a Revolution. It was an armada of Japanese bombers that brought the United States into the second World War, and it was two very big bombs that ended that war. Guns may or may not kill people (we'll leave that to the bumper sticker writers to decide), but the bullets sure do.
The American Civil War, by comparison with other civil wars in world history, was a relatively small affair. China's myriad rebellions in the same century took millions of lives, but our Civil War killed less than 700,000 (or slightly more depending on the source). Civilian casualties during the Russian Civil War exceeded 13 million, and that's before we start counting soldiers. And yet, in many ways, the American Civil War was more brutal than anything that had come before it.
Using battlefield tactics dating from the Napoleonic Wars, line after line of soldiers marched at line after line of other soldiers. When muskets were in use, this was an effective strategy because the weapons were horribly inaccurate unless at very close range. But then we found rifles.
The rifled musket added two things to the musket -- range and accuracy. Now, our line after line is getting picked apart from hundreds of yards away, but they continue to march forward into the leaden hail. Thus the casualties from the American Civil War exponentially grew as rifles replaced muskets. (Despite the new technology, disease remained the biggest killer in the war, but that's the subject of another post.)
In September, Riddick's Folly will install a new, permanent exhibit displaying more than a hundred weapons used in the Civil War. These pieces -- rifles, pistols, and swords -- trace the evolution of weapons engineering from the antebellum to Antietam to Appomatox. Come and check it out. It will be worth the trip.
The American Civil War, by comparison with other civil wars in world history, was a relatively small affair. China's myriad rebellions in the same century took millions of lives, but our Civil War killed less than 700,000 (or slightly more depending on the source). Civilian casualties during the Russian Civil War exceeded 13 million, and that's before we start counting soldiers. And yet, in many ways, the American Civil War was more brutal than anything that had come before it.
Using battlefield tactics dating from the Napoleonic Wars, line after line of soldiers marched at line after line of other soldiers. When muskets were in use, this was an effective strategy because the weapons were horribly inaccurate unless at very close range. But then we found rifles.
The rifled musket added two things to the musket -- range and accuracy. Now, our line after line is getting picked apart from hundreds of yards away, but they continue to march forward into the leaden hail. Thus the casualties from the American Civil War exponentially grew as rifles replaced muskets. (Despite the new technology, disease remained the biggest killer in the war, but that's the subject of another post.)
In September, Riddick's Folly will install a new, permanent exhibit displaying more than a hundred weapons used in the Civil War. These pieces -- rifles, pistols, and swords -- trace the evolution of weapons engineering from the antebellum to Antietam to Appomatox. Come and check it out. It will be worth the trip.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
There's crape on the door
Judge Nathaniel Riddick died on December 30th, 1882, just two days before the new year. Judge Riddick was a prominent politician and lawyer in his time, and it was his home -- Riddick's Folly -- that served as headquarters to the Union Army during its occupation of Suffolk in the Civil War. His funeral, near the height of the Victorian era, was likely a grand affair to which the Who's-Who of the area would have been expected, if not obliged to attend.
126 years later, that event, which was as much public display as private mourning, may once again lead the community from the doors of Riddick's Folly to the unassuming tombstone where Judge Riddick rests forevermore.
We'd like to recreate that funeral as a way to educate our community about mourning practices in the late-19th century. Death and dying were both intimate experiences to be shared mainly with family prior to the Civil War. The war's legacy was an end to the "Good Death" -- dying at home in your bed surrounded by family. Later years yielded greater, more elaborate displays of grief perhaps as a reaction to the anonymous death that was the fate of many Civil War soldiers.
The current-day citizens of Suffolk would be invited to participate in the funeral of one of Suffolk's favorite sons, allowing them to not only learn about mourning customs of the time, but to also share a role in this living exhibit (if you'll forgive the pun). Of course, we want to be as respectful as possible to Judge Riddick's descendants, and those with whom we've spoken so far have been both appreciative of the interest and supportive of the idea. There's a lot of organizing to do, but we're well on our way. Keep reading for more information soon.
126 years later, that event, which was as much public display as private mourning, may once again lead the community from the doors of Riddick's Folly to the unassuming tombstone where Judge Riddick rests forevermore.
We'd like to recreate that funeral as a way to educate our community about mourning practices in the late-19th century. Death and dying were both intimate experiences to be shared mainly with family prior to the Civil War. The war's legacy was an end to the "Good Death" -- dying at home in your bed surrounded by family. Later years yielded greater, more elaborate displays of grief perhaps as a reaction to the anonymous death that was the fate of many Civil War soldiers.
The current-day citizens of Suffolk would be invited to participate in the funeral of one of Suffolk's favorite sons, allowing them to not only learn about mourning customs of the time, but to also share a role in this living exhibit (if you'll forgive the pun). Of course, we want to be as respectful as possible to Judge Riddick's descendants, and those with whom we've spoken so far have been both appreciative of the interest and supportive of the idea. There's a lot of organizing to do, but we're well on our way. Keep reading for more information soon.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
What's on tap for this year?
Every non-profit organization lives and dies by its programming. In fact, the fiscal responsibility of these organizations is commonly evaluated by how much of their funding is spent on programs that benefit the communities or groups that they serve. Museums are no different.
To be quite frank, Riddick's Folly's programming is somewhat lacking. Our annual History & Heritage Weekend is the most visible of our programs, and certainly the most involved. It spans two days, features a cast of more than a dozen reenactors and interpreters, and tells the Civil War story of Riddick's Folly in a more human way than any guided tour or video could. And yet, the other 363 days of the year (364 this Leap Year), we're left to scratch our heads and wonder what we're up to.
We host a series of American Girl events throughout the year. These events feature the characters from the popular American Girl book series (and yes, all of these should have little copyright logos next to them; maybe even a hyperlink... wouldn't that be nice?), and receive modest attendance. However, their relationship to the Riddick family and its history is, at times, a stretch. In June, we'll feature Kit, an American Girl story set during the Great Depression. Sure, some family members lived here during that time period, but our institutional mission limits our scope to the 19th century Riddick family home, and Kit missed that by about thirty years. The Felicity program this fall pre-dates the house by about seventy years, so we're not doing so well with this.
So, um, what is that we do exactly? We do offer guided tours of the museum, five days a week, and we're working to expand our offerings on that tour, but that still leaves a lot of calendar for some public outreach. Here are some ideas we've had.
We'd like to partner with our friends, the Suffolk-Nansemond Historical Society and the Suffolk Art League, to host a summer camp for young boys and girls. Essentially, we'd each offer a series of one-day camps and the children's parents could choose any or all of them for little Billy or Suzie (please, please, don't name your kids "Suzie"). For example, we could offer tea parties and sewing lessons or Civil War era military drill, while the art museum hosts various art lessons, and the historical society could do a hands-on show-and-tell with some of their unique items. Lots of possibilities here.
During the holidays, we'd offer candlelight tours of the museum and send out carolers in 19th century costumes through the surrounding neighborhoods.
We can host public concerts of period-appropriate music in partnership with the Virginia Symphony or local community music groups.
How about a cook-off using 19th century cooking techniques, tools, and food products? Tell me you wouldn't want to judge that contest.
With some of the rich family stories available to us, why not work with local theater groups to stage them? We could put on monthly or seasonal plays based on factual events and family stories. What was it like for the Riddicks to come back to their home after the Civil War and start life anew?
These are just some of the ideas we're working on, but your suggestions are welcome, too!
To be quite frank, Riddick's Folly's programming is somewhat lacking. Our annual History & Heritage Weekend is the most visible of our programs, and certainly the most involved. It spans two days, features a cast of more than a dozen reenactors and interpreters, and tells the Civil War story of Riddick's Folly in a more human way than any guided tour or video could. And yet, the other 363 days of the year (364 this Leap Year), we're left to scratch our heads and wonder what we're up to.
We host a series of American Girl events throughout the year. These events feature the characters from the popular American Girl book series (and yes, all of these should have little copyright logos next to them; maybe even a hyperlink... wouldn't that be nice?), and receive modest attendance. However, their relationship to the Riddick family and its history is, at times, a stretch. In June, we'll feature Kit, an American Girl story set during the Great Depression. Sure, some family members lived here during that time period, but our institutional mission limits our scope to the 19th century Riddick family home, and Kit missed that by about thirty years. The Felicity program this fall pre-dates the house by about seventy years, so we're not doing so well with this.
So, um, what is that we do exactly? We do offer guided tours of the museum, five days a week, and we're working to expand our offerings on that tour, but that still leaves a lot of calendar for some public outreach. Here are some ideas we've had.
We'd like to partner with our friends, the Suffolk-Nansemond Historical Society and the Suffolk Art League, to host a summer camp for young boys and girls. Essentially, we'd each offer a series of one-day camps and the children's parents could choose any or all of them for little Billy or Suzie (please, please, don't name your kids "Suzie"). For example, we could offer tea parties and sewing lessons or Civil War era military drill, while the art museum hosts various art lessons, and the historical society could do a hands-on show-and-tell with some of their unique items. Lots of possibilities here.
During the holidays, we'd offer candlelight tours of the museum and send out carolers in 19th century costumes through the surrounding neighborhoods.
We can host public concerts of period-appropriate music in partnership with the Virginia Symphony or local community music groups.
How about a cook-off using 19th century cooking techniques, tools, and food products? Tell me you wouldn't want to judge that contest.
With some of the rich family stories available to us, why not work with local theater groups to stage them? We could put on monthly or seasonal plays based on factual events and family stories. What was it like for the Riddicks to come back to their home after the Civil War and start life anew?
These are just some of the ideas we're working on, but your suggestions are welcome, too!
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Inaugural Post!
It's trendy, no? Blogs, I mean. They're everywhere. Even blogging about how trendy blogs are is trendy. We get it. We give. Uncle. So, why another blog?
Actually, there's a better question. Why another house museum?
Hold up, hang on, wait a sec. What do house museums have to do with blogs? Well, keep reading; we'll get there.
There's a belief, perhaps somewhat justified, that there are too many house museums in the United States (although I'm not sure expanding the criteria for judgement into the global scene makes the situation better, save that countries without houses of any kind might help to improve the ratio a bit). In fact, no one is even quite sure how many there are, that's how many there are. The last, best estimate was between 7,000 and 10,000. You could raise a child, send him to college to get a degree in museum studies, pull some strings and land him an Executive Director's gig in less time than it would take to see them all. And by then, who knows how many more there would be?
So the caged rabbit-like propagation of the house museum must mean that they're popular. That might be true if every house museum told the stories of our founding fathers as Monticello and Mount Vernon do, or anybody remotely famous and/or significant for that matter. But they don't, and a tour of your local house museum ought to confirm this fairly quickly. Their propagation seems more to do with people in communities who, out of civic pride or just sentimentality, can't or won't let go of That Old House on _____ Street. Did anything important happen there? Who cares?! It's both old and in our town.... Significant!
Sadly, obviously, it's not always true. As you read this, many, most of those house museums are struggling for visitors, money, and professionalism. Too few people can accept the too true fact that not every house is worth saving; indeed, not every house can even be saved.
What decides the fate of these houses, paradoxically enough, is that same community. If the people are committed to the cause of preservation, nay, of telling their story, the museum will survive. It may never be well-run, but it will run just the same (albeit like my old `92 Ford Taurus which had the unnerving tendency to leak a strange, red fluid that smelled a little bit like lemons). In most cases, however, support is not community-wide; it comes from a small band of people with limited money, energy, and time. The result oscillates between a pre-professional organization telling a very important local story to no one in particular, and a well-furbished club house for its saviors who would deign to let anyone cross its threshold and touch something.
It is the search for relevance that truly defines these homes, then. If the house is relevant to its community, it will garner support. However, if the house attracts no visitors because its focus is on its community, is it doing any good telling a story everyone knows, preaching to the choir, as it were? Today's house museum sails through those tumultuous waters between the Scylla of alienating the local community and the Charybdys of ignoring its mission. It's daunting, though not as daunting as a Scylla and Charybdys metaphor.
So, the house museum is in a bad way. Some have gotten out of the game by renting out space for offices, events, and the like. Better the home still stand and be used by someone else than be razed, they feel. Others find themselves closing their doors and hoping for better times. This leaves a scant few keeping the straight and narrow.
Riddick's Folly, so far, has been fortunate to be among the latter-most category. In fact, we have several advantages over some of our peer institutions. We receive generous funding from the City of Suffolk, Virginia. It doesn't cover our entire budget, but it makes up a goodly portion, and without it, we'd be hurting as so many others are. Moreover, the City owns the building itself, and they maintain its exterior and mechanical work at no cost to us. Once again, a huge advantage as these costs make up the bulk of the financial obstacles before other house museums. The local community has at least a general awareness of Riddick's Folly, and even if they are not directly supportive, there is some faint murmor of pride amongst them at the four-floor, Greek Revival behemoth that greats visitors to the city along Constance Road.
Despite the significant advantages, we have to wonder about the good we're doing. Riddick's Folly sees between 3,000 and 5,000 visitors a year. While this is actually pretty good for a house museum, it's not great for a museum in general. To be sure, we won't pay our bills on admissions revenue, but no museum truly does. Riddick's Folly has the luxury of time -- time to find its purpose, and time to find out how to accomplish its goals.
Despite this, we have to wonder how long the community will support us if we do not reciprocate the good will. We hold and use their funds and their donated items in the public trust, under the notion that we will serve our community by displaying, preserving, and interpreting these things in telling the story of Suffolk, the Riddick family, and their town home mansion. To do any less would be unfaithful at best, and criminal at worst.
We do try, but the challenge is to be relevant, I said. Be relevant to the community, and be relevant to those with an ever-increasing variety of choices of what to do with their spare time. Go to the movies, go golfing, go ride a bike, go to the library, the mall, the arcade (do they still have those?), the bar, the sporting event... you get the idea. How do you hook people?
It becomes more difficult as most of us perceive the historic house tour to be a grueling endurance exercise, a test of the will to stay awake while someone drones on about a piece of furniture you can't pronounce, made in a city you've never heard of, by a man no one remembers (actually, at this point, reading this blog post may evoke similar feelings). Most people emerge from a house tour bleary-eyed, unsure of what happened to the last hour of their lives, vaguely aware of a seemingly well-educated man or woman talking down to them for not knowing what a "pallisade" is.
See, the thing is, people don't care about furniture. I don't mean they all live in tents and sleep on blankets. I mean that furniture is impersonal. I don't relate to a cellerette any more than I relate to canned tuna. What I relate to is other people and similar experiences. I can heat up a meal in the microwave in a few minutes (the joys of being a bachelor), but the Riddick family had to keep a fire going in their kitchen all day, every day just for the flexibility of having a meal within two hours of requesting it. Who kept the fire going? A slave who actually slept in or next to the kitchen. This would be like the Kenmore service technician camping out in my pantry, just in case. See, I can relate to that (please don't ask how).
The bottom line is that we have to do what we do as well as we can possibly do it. We have to capitalize on our strengths, isolate and minimize our weaknesses, and then do everything we can to let people know we exist. In the end, maybe we'll get some extra bodies in the door. Or, we may only get some extra eyes on our blog. Either way, it's progress.
Progress. I guess that's what house museums have to do with blogs. And I think that's quite enough for a first post.
Actually, there's a better question. Why another house museum?
Hold up, hang on, wait a sec. What do house museums have to do with blogs? Well, keep reading; we'll get there.
There's a belief, perhaps somewhat justified, that there are too many house museums in the United States (although I'm not sure expanding the criteria for judgement into the global scene makes the situation better, save that countries without houses of any kind might help to improve the ratio a bit). In fact, no one is even quite sure how many there are, that's how many there are. The last, best estimate was between 7,000 and 10,000. You could raise a child, send him to college to get a degree in museum studies, pull some strings and land him an Executive Director's gig in less time than it would take to see them all. And by then, who knows how many more there would be?
So the caged rabbit-like propagation of the house museum must mean that they're popular. That might be true if every house museum told the stories of our founding fathers as Monticello and Mount Vernon do, or anybody remotely famous and/or significant for that matter. But they don't, and a tour of your local house museum ought to confirm this fairly quickly. Their propagation seems more to do with people in communities who, out of civic pride or just sentimentality, can't or won't let go of That Old House on _____ Street. Did anything important happen there? Who cares?! It's both old and in our town.... Significant!
Sadly, obviously, it's not always true. As you read this, many, most of those house museums are struggling for visitors, money, and professionalism. Too few people can accept the too true fact that not every house is worth saving; indeed, not every house can even be saved.
What decides the fate of these houses, paradoxically enough, is that same community. If the people are committed to the cause of preservation, nay, of telling their story, the museum will survive. It may never be well-run, but it will run just the same (albeit like my old `92 Ford Taurus which had the unnerving tendency to leak a strange, red fluid that smelled a little bit like lemons). In most cases, however, support is not community-wide; it comes from a small band of people with limited money, energy, and time. The result oscillates between a pre-professional organization telling a very important local story to no one in particular, and a well-furbished club house for its saviors who would deign to let anyone cross its threshold and touch something.
It is the search for relevance that truly defines these homes, then. If the house is relevant to its community, it will garner support. However, if the house attracts no visitors because its focus is on its community, is it doing any good telling a story everyone knows, preaching to the choir, as it were? Today's house museum sails through those tumultuous waters between the Scylla of alienating the local community and the Charybdys of ignoring its mission. It's daunting, though not as daunting as a Scylla and Charybdys metaphor.
So, the house museum is in a bad way. Some have gotten out of the game by renting out space for offices, events, and the like. Better the home still stand and be used by someone else than be razed, they feel. Others find themselves closing their doors and hoping for better times. This leaves a scant few keeping the straight and narrow.
Riddick's Folly, so far, has been fortunate to be among the latter-most category. In fact, we have several advantages over some of our peer institutions. We receive generous funding from the City of Suffolk, Virginia. It doesn't cover our entire budget, but it makes up a goodly portion, and without it, we'd be hurting as so many others are. Moreover, the City owns the building itself, and they maintain its exterior and mechanical work at no cost to us. Once again, a huge advantage as these costs make up the bulk of the financial obstacles before other house museums. The local community has at least a general awareness of Riddick's Folly, and even if they are not directly supportive, there is some faint murmor of pride amongst them at the four-floor, Greek Revival behemoth that greats visitors to the city along Constance Road.
Despite the significant advantages, we have to wonder about the good we're doing. Riddick's Folly sees between 3,000 and 5,000 visitors a year. While this is actually pretty good for a house museum, it's not great for a museum in general. To be sure, we won't pay our bills on admissions revenue, but no museum truly does. Riddick's Folly has the luxury of time -- time to find its purpose, and time to find out how to accomplish its goals.
Despite this, we have to wonder how long the community will support us if we do not reciprocate the good will. We hold and use their funds and their donated items in the public trust, under the notion that we will serve our community by displaying, preserving, and interpreting these things in telling the story of Suffolk, the Riddick family, and their town home mansion. To do any less would be unfaithful at best, and criminal at worst.
We do try, but the challenge is to be relevant, I said. Be relevant to the community, and be relevant to those with an ever-increasing variety of choices of what to do with their spare time. Go to the movies, go golfing, go ride a bike, go to the library, the mall, the arcade (do they still have those?), the bar, the sporting event... you get the idea. How do you hook people?
It becomes more difficult as most of us perceive the historic house tour to be a grueling endurance exercise, a test of the will to stay awake while someone drones on about a piece of furniture you can't pronounce, made in a city you've never heard of, by a man no one remembers (actually, at this point, reading this blog post may evoke similar feelings). Most people emerge from a house tour bleary-eyed, unsure of what happened to the last hour of their lives, vaguely aware of a seemingly well-educated man or woman talking down to them for not knowing what a "pallisade" is.
See, the thing is, people don't care about furniture. I don't mean they all live in tents and sleep on blankets. I mean that furniture is impersonal. I don't relate to a cellerette any more than I relate to canned tuna. What I relate to is other people and similar experiences. I can heat up a meal in the microwave in a few minutes (the joys of being a bachelor), but the Riddick family had to keep a fire going in their kitchen all day, every day just for the flexibility of having a meal within two hours of requesting it. Who kept the fire going? A slave who actually slept in or next to the kitchen. This would be like the Kenmore service technician camping out in my pantry, just in case. See, I can relate to that (please don't ask how).
The bottom line is that we have to do what we do as well as we can possibly do it. We have to capitalize on our strengths, isolate and minimize our weaknesses, and then do everything we can to let people know we exist. In the end, maybe we'll get some extra bodies in the door. Or, we may only get some extra eyes on our blog. Either way, it's progress.
Progress. I guess that's what house museums have to do with blogs. And I think that's quite enough for a first post.
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