Midwinter Mischief at Old Sturbridge Village

Stephen and I went on a Midwinter Mischief tour at Old Sturbridge Village on February 4th. It was their first day of the special program. We went on an afternoon tour, but it was still the first day of a new program. The program was a semi-guided tour, with a meal included for $20 for non-members, which is a very decent price.

From the OSV visitor center we were lead by a costumed guide who walked us across the village to the Bullard Tavern. He stopped us halfway through to recite a verse about the experience we were about to have. He was very awkward, dropping his lines and struggling with the tempo and rhyme scheme of the verses. I got the impression this was not his idea of a good time. But when we were met at the tavern by “Mr. Bullard” he was enthusiastic in his acting. He encouraged us to eat first and assured us we’d get on a tour, but we declined since we’d eaten in the car on the way down. After using the restroom, we asked where we could catch our 1:45 tour, it turned out the 1:30 tour had not left yet so we jumped in on the end of the orientation for that tour.

The orientation was lead by the “town gossip” who was very good at making everyone laugh as she handed out cards to each person with the “role” we would be playing. Everyone got a nicely printed glossy card with a silhouette on one side and a paragraph about the role on the other. In the sitting room of the tavern another costumed person came in to tell us , in verse, about the peddler who spent last night at the tavern, ran up a tab he could not pay, and promised the tavern keep that he would return “with a tin cup overflowing with Gold”. The costumed person (who I’m told was supposed to be a tavern regular)told us the peddler then went to the Tinsmith shop, and we should go there to look for him. He did not follow us, but pointed the group in the right direction, we all walked ourselves (I think there were just under a dozen up is on this particular tour) over to the Tin Shop.

Inside the tin shop we were given some basic interpretations by the two men working in the tin shop, and one of them almost sounded like he was speaking in verse but it was so natural and interspersed with info on smithing and the history of peddlers that it was hard to tell. We spent about 10 minutes in the tin shop before they told us the peddler went on to the Parsonage, and we should look for him there. Over the course of the tour we visited:
- The Parsonage, grating chocolate with the parson’s daughter, getting a sermon on the evils of drink from the parson.
- A house in the village, helping dip candles,
- The village store, learning about what was sold there and buying on credit,
- The schoolhouse, getting a lesson
- The pottery, doing some hands-on wheel work
- The barn, sawing some firewood
- The farmhouse kitchen, making sausages
- Another kitchen, baking pies
- The blacksmith shop, shoeing oxen
- Outside visiting, with an oxen pair.
All of these stops were roughly ten minutes in length, all involved some interpretation, at least one hands-on opportunity for someone in the group, plus a few verses of script about “that pesky Peddler.” Each stop felt like a pretty good length, with a good mix of learning and story. None of the walks between buildings were so long that they felt arduous, and even though most of the stops the group had to stand, there were enough sitting stops mixed in that the general visitor did not feel too worn out by the end. We almost bumped into the group before us twice, but both times they were coming out as we went in, and we never ended up waiting for them. We never ran into the group behind us. Nor did it feel like the interpreter/actors were watching the clock, or rushing us through, their timing was very good.

After the last stop, our visit with the oxen, we were met by the last actor, a skinny young man in a top hat who did even more verse speaking, heading back up to the tavern. He was dressed quite differently from the other interpreter/actors, and was a better actor than most of them. Halfway through the walk back toward the tavern he produced a tin cup, giving the first inkling that this was the peddler we’d been “looking for” during our tour. For a little while at the end of the tour it felt quite clever, how the script had worked our group around to “discovering” the peddler, but by the time we got inside the tavern the clever part felt pretty empty.

My takeaway as we sat eating our soup (they’d kept some warm for us when I’d refused to eat before our tour) was that the “Midwinter Mischief” was a cute gimmick to get people on to the grounds during the month of February. The OSV actor/interpreters were the museum’s regular staff, and while a few did a superb job most of them gave off a distinct air of silly. They were portraying silly town characters, reciting silly lines about a silly peddler. This tour was not something to be taken seriously. In the end, everyone knew the peddler would come out on top, the town was no worse off for his visit, and there was no effect on the lives of real people, real history.

I think that did an incredible disservice to the history that they were interpreting. Every visitor was given a lot of information about life in a New England town in the early 1800s on this tour, but since the script was so gimmicky, and the actors so obviously just reciting their lines and not portraying real people, I believe it was hard for the visitors to go away with any emotional investment in what they had learned. Mystic Seaport does an incredible job using engaging emotional content in their programs, as do some of SBM’s roleplayers, so I know it can be done. Midwinter Mischief’s plot was fairly weak, and definitely came off as an excuse to visit the best houses in the village, not as an interpretation method itself. This could be because OSV hired a theatre person instead of a history person to write and direct their program, but I’ve seen amazing theatre that is emotionally engaging, so that can’t entirely be it.

I think the most I can say about the program is that it is a cute gimmick to get people through the doors, and show off the best of OSV in a winter setting. The worst is that there was so much potential if they had put more emphasis on actual history, and if their staff running the program had felt more comfortable playing their parts.

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Variety in Living History

There is no one Living History Experience
Last month we had a lovely variety of LH experiences, and I’ve been reminded again how there is no such thing as a typical reenactment, if you keep your eyes peeled and your mind open.

Medieval Talk Show: A small group of us went to visit a middle school down in Connecticut, where we got to sit down with the kids, and they could ask us anything. Anything! And we would answer in period from our own experiences. How many people get to interview someone from the past? It was also great for us because we never know what they are going to ask, so it is a chance for us to think about parts of daily life we have never thought about before.

Guild Day: A week later we went back to the same school, but this time brought the whole guild, our tents and encampment furnishings, even Percy came for the day. The students divided up into groups and visited each “station” for a few minutes. Kristina and I talked about families living on the march, and the difference between soldier’s life and noble’s life. While we were talking as fast as we possibly could, we looked after both Percy and Lilly, a very well behaved 3 year old, the child of two other guild members. Both kids were looking adorable in their historical clothes, and were close to stealing our show, but in a good way.  It was hot as heck that day, so I brought out a big copper basin and filled it with water, then gave the kids a few bowls and spoons. They splashed happily while Kris and I talked and talked. I wish we had gotten some photos, but I have not seen any yet.

Workshop: The next day everyone assembled at our house for a workshop in chopping wood. Okay, we did only a little splitting firewood, it was more about making tent pegs, and using natural forks to make spits, carving out some wooden mallets, generally playing with twigs and branches. This one was not in costume or in character, but it was so important to me, because it increased my knowledge about stuff that our characters would have known about. Just like today people know the difference between a sedan and a station wagon, folks in most time periods would have known the difference between oak and maple.

Immersive Overnight: From the workshop we climbed into our 16th Century clothes and marched out into the unknown. We spent the night in the woods in back of our house out of sight of civilization and completely in character. We had no modern amenities: the cell phones, flashlights, coolers, everything stayed at the house. Stephen had written up a scenario for us to follow: we were routed after a battle and had met up, us women and a very few of the soldiers, and were looking for a safe place to spend the night before making our way back to the lines in the morning. This was a completely new thing for us, we usually drive in to a site with a car full of stuff (in this case we only took what we could carry) and we usually drop character when the public leaves. It was hot, it was nerve wracking, and Percy was teething, but we made it through and I think we all learned a lot. I would definitely do it again, though probably not the day after an event.

Getting ready for an Immersive Overnight

How to attach stuff to your Frau.

Percy and I get ready to head into the woods.

Armory day: As if there was not enough from the week before, the next Friday we drove out to Western Mass. Percy and I spent Friday visiting a college friend of mine, then on Saturday while Stephen was being a mud beggar at the Mutton and Mead Renaissance Festival we went to Springfield Mass, to the Springfield Armory, a museum run by the National Park Service. They were having an “Armory Day” timeline event and I wanted to check it out sine I am hoping to host one next year. I wore my 1930s denim slacks from Wearing History, and a cute blouse the fits in the first half of the 20th Century. I put my hair in a kerchief, and Percy in a button down and pair of “railroad” overalls. I don’t think we got a single photo of the two of us. We walked around to the different encampments, played in the grass, drank orange soda and ate a hot dog (the Boy Scouts were selling lunch) and were mostly ignored by the reenactors. I got a few ideas of what not to do: call it a timeline of munitions if only the Civil War Guys are firing, hire a dance troupe to “interpret” a certain historical time period; and a few more of what to do: invite the Signal Corps, the 1812 Marine, Boy Scouts.

Renfaire: Sunday found Percy and I washing up in the guild’s encampment at Mutton and Mead. It was a very different experience not being in charge. Stephen was there, but not in camp, he was being paid to be a mud beggar. I was only there on Sunday so I stayed out of the planning. The camp looked different, there was no set schedule, we all did our own things and interacted, I mostly watched Percy and tried not to droop in the massive humidity. I got to spend time with two of our camp’s new members and we all got asked a lot of really good questions. Western Mass is like that: a lot of very intelligent people, many of whom work at the local colleges, or went to those colleges and never left the area. They were happy to get some info, ask follow-up questions, understand the whys and wherefores of life with a marching army. Plus, I got to see a lot of people who used to work the Vermont Renaissance Faire, which is the one where I got my start and where Stephen and I met. So it was old-home day, with all the renfaire trappings, and a chance to dress up and educate the public.


Seriously, a lot of variety of Living History in a short amount of time.








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Getting Restless

Things are gearing up here for opening day at the museum. The seasonal staff have been in training all week, getting reacquainted with us full-timers, learning about the new programs, and introducing new staff members. The costumes are coming back out, the cook stoves are being fired up, the houses have been aired out and dusted off. I am so jealous of those who are stepping back into the shoes, cracking open the cookbooks, and greeting the houses once again.
I love my job, it is so much fun to bring special days to the museum; but I miss actually acting out the daily tasks, and portraying the fabulous women of this neighborhood. I did get into costume last weekend at a very cool reenactment, but it has only slightly diminished the pangs as I see the aprons and skirts go whisking by.

I think I need to plan a tea party for May, so I can get dressed up. The renfaires seem very far away.




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Bringing the streets to life

As Special Events Manager I get to make magic during all sorts of events. I think a large part of that magical atmosphere is created by people, specifically first-person role-players so I try to add as many into my events as possible. Even before I was hired to run SBM’s holiday event, Candlelight Stroll employed more role-players than the regular season, and more than the other events. We have 8 houses that are set up as our “Historic Houses” (i.e. furnished to a specific time period, telling a specific story, and not an exhibit or craft demonstration house) and during Stroll they all contain role-players. One house has only one person in costume, some of the other houses contain up to 8 people bringing holiday stories to life. Some of those folks are employed as role-players during the regular season, many of them are teenagers that participate in our Junior Role-player program, some we hire in specifically for the three weekends in December.

This year I’m hiring folks to perform a few roles inside the historic houses, and I’m also hiring folks to perform on the streets of our neighborhood to extend the atmosphere (and to entertain those people who are stuck waiting in lines.) I did a little of this last year, I hired two of my friends from the Renaissance Faire to interact on the streets and they did a great job. They’ve perfected their craft of interactive improvisational theatre over years of working Faires, and the two I picked are also history buffs. I got great feedback about those two, and permission to hire a bunch more. But I only know so many folks who are close enough to the coast of NH who would want to perform on the streets in December. I’m looking at possibly hiring people I have not worked with before which is exciting, but daunting too.

Junior Roleplayers head on to the grounds during Candlelight Stroll 2013

The challenge will be ensuring a certain level of quality among the role players when we bring on extra people who do not have all year to perfect their craft. Visitors will not be able to tell by looking who is a year-round role-player, who is a RenFaire performer, and who is an actor hired just for this event. I am planning to do a day of training to get a basic starting point for all the different costumed people, We’ll see how much it is possible to do in just one day.
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Fall Museum Plans

Even though it is still summer by most American calendars, fall and winter planning are well underway at Strawbery Banke. The two events that started off my career as Manager of Special Events are coming around again and I am super excited to add a little of my own creativity into them this year.

Ghosts on the Banke: last year I had only just started less than a month before our Halloween event, so mostly I was carrying out the vision of the last person in my position. "Ghosts" is a safe trick-or-treat that last for two hours per evening on Friday and Saturday the weekend before Halloween. It is a small budget event, and most of that budget is spent on candy so over the years it has gotten away from being a history event, though it is still about community. This year I'm going to try to bring a little history back, by enlisting the help of local theater groups: improv troupes, high school clubs, anyone I can find, to tell "ghost stories" or historical themed skits and scenes on the grounds during the event. I'm going to have to put in some miles tracking down groups to participate  but hopefully this will add a new level of community involvement, more history, and lot more life to the event.

Our holiday event: Candlelight Stroll is also on my mind. To this one I need to add more outdoor activity. This is not that easy to do in December in New England, but that is what I am hoping to do. I am trying to increase the number of caroling groups, or at least spread them out more evenly over the three weekends; I am hoping to work with local Boy Scout and Girl Scout troupes to get them involved, and I have been given the okay to hire more costumed role players!

The last one is the one closest to my heart, I've done so much historical interpretation, acting, role playing, whatever you want to call it, myself. I think it is a great way to bring history to life, and Renaissance Faires have taught me that it is also a great way to keep a crowd entertained. Since we have houses ranging in date from 1690 to 1950 I am looking forward to hiring people to portray all sorts of townsfolk from all sorts of eras. I've already written up the casting call even though I will not put it out until September. The next step as far as putting more costumed role players on site is to start in on the research, also tons of fun, and something I have missed doing! Read this entry on entry page

Not Universally Accessible

We just got some feedback on the Christmas program here at the museum, it is feedback that I have heard before, on an issue that I have struggled with for many years: universal access for those of all levels of mobility. As a historic site, one must travel the roads and paths to get to the historic buildings, all of which are entered by going up stairs. We have retro-fitted some buildings with ramps, but entrances are not the only problems: getting around inside the buildings can be tough, and just getting to the buildings from the visitor center can be a challenge.

The busiest day of this year’s Christmas program was also the most problematic in terms of visitors navigating our site. The weekend before we had received a foot and a half of snow, then on Tuesday we got another 8 inches. All that had been cleared off the paths, but Friday and Saturday were warm and the light mist had been melting the snow all day. Since it was fairly cold, the ground was mostly frozen, forcing the snow melt on to our nicely shoveled paths and either re-freezing in to ice slicks, or mixing with just enough thawed ground to cause massive mud puddles. The grounds were totally a mess. I wore my rubber boots and muddled through, but those visitors who had dressed up in fancy shoes, or had mobility issues were having trouble on the grounds.

What could we do about this particular situation? We were certainly salting and sanding the icy patches, pushing back the snow, but even with a dedicated grounds crew there was not a lot we could do about the mud puddles. The water was not being absorbed into the frozen ground, and in order to soak up all that water we would have needed to invest in a couple tons of sand or gravel, or possibly several industrial vacuum cleaners. Do they make vacuum cleaners that suck up mud puddles?

So short term we could not do anything about the rough walking conditions, but that does not mean we can not improve for the future. So what are some of the long term solutions? The easiest and most cost effective solution to weather conditions on roads is to pave them: wooden walkways, cobblestones, concrete, asphalt. All of these would significantly reduce the mobility issues of our modern visitors. However, we are a historic site and none of those methods of paving can be documented for the time when most of our houses were built, which is the late 1700s early 1800s. At that time the roads were dirt, so that is what we have: dirt. By having piles of snow and mud puddles in December we are giving visitors a taste of winter in times past, and all the limits that go with it.

So yes, a number of elderly visitors and those with mobility issues do have trouble navigating our grounds in bad weather, even if nothing is falling from the sky at the moment that they come through. From a modern perspective that is totally unfair. I think universal access is an incredibly worthy goal and I do try, in my own little way, to work towards universal access for people of all abilities. But I am also a historian and can tell you, folks with disabilities did not really get to enjoy the “good old days.” Aside from the stigma a differently-abled person had to endure, in the time before electricity there were no elevators, no electric wheel chairs; heck, all those muddy paths were dark and even more treacherous before the cheap modern light bulb. What happened when older folks were no longer able to walk all that well? They certainly did not expect to go out with the grandkids to a nine-acre site in the middle of the winter and expect to walk around for several hours. But just because they were excluded in the past does not give us permission to exclude people today. BUT we don’t want to give up on presenting history, that is what we do!

I know there are people out there in the museum world doing wonderful work on universal access, but I have found very little of it on historic settings. If a reader has any insight, please share. I’d love to put more brains to work on this.


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Leading Up To Leading a Workshop

Advance warning: this is part one of a three part series on a workshop I recently conducted at Strawbery Banke Museum

A few weeks ago I lead a workshop and discussion for my fellow interpreters and role-players at Strawbery Banke Museum. I designed the workshop in response to a training that the museum offered us role-players last spring. I did not blog about it because April was very busy, also because it was so bad, I really had nothing good to say about it other than that it got all us role-players together, and it convinced me that I could lead a better workshop.

One of the things that I had noticed about becoming a museum role-player this time around (as opposed to when I started back in 1999) is that the museum provided tools in only two varieties: historical research, and the other role-players. Every role that the museum fills comes with a big 3-ring binder full of history articles. The binders include information about the house where you will be role-playing, the family you will represent, a timeline of known facts about the person you will be portraying, articles about the general history of the era, and more specifically about Portsmouth and about New Hampshire’s role in that era. In addition to the binder there are file cabinets full of photocopies of primary sources, articles written by past employees, and yet more history articles. Plus there is a small library of history books that we’re encouraged to borrow. That is all history-research related, which is useful but only one part of becoming a role-player. When one of the folks in horticulture asked what is wrong with just giving only the history stuff I kind of blew up at him (sorry Eric) and said it would be like giving someone a book of plants and telling them to go garden. Not a book on how-to garden, just a book with facts on the plants in the garden, he would never expect someone to know how to transplant seedlings without step-by-step instructions, or at least watching someone else do it.

Now for new role-players they are given a small amount of time shadowing a well established role-player, where they get to watch someone who knows how to do it. But from what I have gathered, the amount of time a new RP gets depends less on their need and more on the museum’s scheduling difficulties. How much the experienced role-player gets to share, and if it is compatible with the way the new RP learns is left entirely up to chance. In the little library there were no books on role-playing. Heck, there were not even any books on museum interpretation!

But back to the spring workshop. I was very excited going in to the workshop because we were actually having training! I was hopeful that the workshop leader would establish some professional vocabulary, that she would talk about the books about roleplaying, and that we would get a chance to bond as a group outside of the mess of interpreters. Well we got to bond about what a crappy workshop it was. The worst part was that at the very end of the workshop the leader passed around some hand-outs that did include a vocabulary list and a tiny bit of a bibliography! She did not talk at all about her hand-outs which would have made a great workshop, she just passed them around with apologies and basically told us to ignore them!!

By the time the workshop was over I knew that I could better meet the needs of my fellow role-players, and at the same time I was offered an opportunity to do so. We were all told that the museum was offering us RPs 5 hours of paid research time. It was expected we would research some aspect of history from the era that we represent, then write it up in a paper, so the other folks who do the same time period could benefit. I knew that my co-workers would be better served if I was able to share my research on role-playing instead of any research on history that I may do. Thankfully my bosses at the museum agreed to let me try.

Thus ends part 1 of my journey to workshop, I’ll post about the actual workshop soon.

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Inhibition and Improvisation in Roleplaying

Sometimes, a series of seemingly unrelated events will all come together in my life in a way that shouts IMPORTANT to me. This happened not too long ago.

I was running late, so I was in the car at an unexpected time, only long enough to hear the opening of a radio program where the host talked about a recent study where they had a bunch of improvisational jazz musicians play improv jazz while receiving an MRI scan. Now the image of a pianist inside a MRI tube has been amusing me for close to a week, but that was not the remarkable part of the story. The MRIs showed the creativity centers of the brain all lit up, just like one would expect, but it also showed the part of the brain that self-censors with less activity. The inhibition parts of the brain shut down while someone trained in improvisation was plying their craft.

The study was done with jazz musicians, but I believe it could equally be applied to other types of improv artists, like actors and first-person roleplayers. What is that you say? First-person roleplayers are not actors? Well I think there is an element of acting involved as I explained here and if you don’t believe me check out the LH Bibliography because most of them agree with me too.

The day after I heard about the Jazz musicians I was participating in a role-player training where the training leader assured us that she would not make us play any of those “silly games” like the one with the “imaginary ball”.

I know exactly the one she is talking about: You all stand around in the circle and someone mimes holding a ball, they determine the size and shape, and get that across to everyone else through pantomime, by hefting the pretend ball, and gripping it, then throwing it to another person in the room who must change the size, shape, weight etc. of the pretend ball before pretend throwing it to someone else. If you let it, this activity can make you feel incredibly silly, that is the self-censoring part of your brain talking. If you are able to let it go and let your imagination discover the size and heft of the imaginary ball you are quieting your self-censor and letting the creativity and positivity parts of your brain activate.

I think Improvisation can be a masterful tool. It can help us get “into character” and better imagine life back then. It can help us find interesting ways to portray the facts and figures we’ve been researching. Most importantly, it can help us meet every single visitor from an open and inviting position, we don’t have to bore then with a pre-prepared story, we can have a conversation and make a real connection. All of these things are one thousand times harder if our self-censor is telling us: “you’re dressed funny, you don’t know all the facts, they might be offended if you say something like that!”

One of the things Stephen and I talk about every time we get in front of a group to talk about first-person is we say: “You are dressed funny, you will make an ass of yourself, it is okay.” Up until now I knew it to be true but could not tell you why. After reading the article about the jazz musicians I can say, “Your prefrontal cortex wants to get in the way here, but in this instance the creativity centers in your brain need to be in charge.”

When the trainer in the roleplaying session at Strawbery Banke said for the second time “we won’t be playing those silly games” with a wrinkle in her nose and a superior air I just had to speak up. I briefly told the group about the study on the brain, and that those games actually could help them get closer to the brain activity that will make them better role-players. I just pointed out the study, I did not belabor the point. I can only hope that a few of them heard what I had to say.


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Museum Closing, Doors Opening

A few weeks ago now I heard about a museum closing its doors at the end of the year. Higgins Armory Museum is an incredibly unique institution, its founder collected medieval arms and armour, which he set up in a glass and steel structure on the top a hill in Worcester Massachusetts. When driving on the highway through Worcester you can see the helmet gargoyles on top of the grey building. I have friends who have worked there, studied there, even raised money for the institution. When I lived in Worcester I would go visit, and feel superior because I squired for a group of guys that fought in that stuff so I was familiar with the ways that all the suits of armor fit together. When I was putting together a kid's program on the middle ages I spent quite a bit of time (and money) in their gift shop, which contained all the latest in books for kids on the Middle Ages.

I will have to go visit a few more times before the end of the year and they close their doors, Anyone who wants to make a trip, drop me a line, I'll meet you there.

I am a bit surprised at this turn of events, though I have known for years that they were in financial hardship. They are not the only museum, my classes at Tufts in their Museum Studies Program inevitably bring up the sad state of museums at the moment. All non-profit institutions are feeling it, from education to healthcare. I am not too upset at the fate of Higgins though, because their collection is not being auctioned off, it is not being put into storage, it is going to be integrated into the Worcester Art Museum. So it will continue to be a unique part of Worcester, the quirky little city with the unpronounceable name. If the museum must close, and at this point I think more and more museums are going to face this sad reality, I am glad that Worcester Art is willing to take it on, and I hope they will be strengthened by the addition.

In my opinion, there are too many little museums out there. There are limited resources being put towards history, towards independent learning institutions, and those resources could be used more effectively if consolidated a bit. Maybe I've been brainwashed by corporate America. Maybe social media has dulled my senses, and the culture of suburbanization means I do not value my own community as much as I should, but the reality is that there are a ton of little historical societies and niche establishments out there that are on the brink of economic insolvency. Aren't we sometimes stronger as a team than as individuals?

I would love to see history be valued as a part of American Culture, and I'd love the history of everyday life, and ordinary people be just as well known as the history of wars and heroes. I think this could be a great opportunity for the Worcester Art Museum, I hope WAM and Worcester are able to take advantage of it.

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Historical Society in Society

I have a confession for you, my readers: I have never been to visit my local historical society. As far as I know, it is located less than a quarter mile from my house. I drive past it almost every time I leave my driveway. We’ve lived here since early 2009, we spend most of our free time driving all over New England to do history stuff, but neither Stephen nor I have stepped foot inside the local historical society.

Why oh why are we so neglectful? How could I claim to be into history and not at least stick my head in the door in the past three years? My current experience with history is exciting and adventurous; my past experiences with historical societies have all been pretty boring. Sometimes when I drive by there is an “open” flag out, but I’ve never seen anyone hanging out, any events happening there. I haven’t seen any flyers in town, or mailings about it, nothing on the municipal web page. I’m not sure if there is anything there beyond a little “schoolhouse.”

I really should find out. I think I’ll wait until the weather is better and I can walk down.

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In-Between-ish

Two weekends ago I attended the New England Reenactor’s Fair and Swap Meet with Das Geld Fahnlein. We set up a table to hopefully recruit new members. Last weekend I attended the New England regional conference of the Association of Living History, Farm and Agricultural Museums. I attended that one on my own, though the keynote speaker was from Strawbery Banke. I did not really have to explain my attendance to the folks at the swap meet, though most folks found it odd that a group depicting something other than American history would attend. At the ALHFAM meeting the opening question is always, “what institution do you work at?” I found it difficult to explain that I was not there in affiliation with a specific museum. 

I’m sure if the other folks at the swap meet had the opportunity to attend the conference, they would have learned a lot and could have added a lot as well, but there is a massive gulf between the “professionals” and the “hobbyists” and I seem to be stuck in the middle.

Why was I reluctant to tell the folks at ALHFAM that I work at SBM? Well, technically since the museum is not open, I don’t work at the museum. Also, the museum does not provide me with a living wage. I make just enough to pay for my gas and food. It does not cover housing, health insurance, my kid, phone, anything else.  At least Das Geld Fahnlein does not pretend to be something other an expense in the budget. I paid my own way into the conference, I was not there as a representative of SBM.

I had a lot of fun at both events. At the swap meet I met new people who also love dressing up and living history, got to spend time with some of my fellow guild members, and I got to purchase some round wooden containers for herbal medicine that I’ve been looking for for a very long time. I got to do some medieval cooking to prep and I got to feed my peeps, which I very much like to do. At the conference I learned how to butcher a turkey and make split-rail fence. I got to learn about 1870s knitting and 19th Century bee keeping, and hang out with a group of people who love dressing up and doing history.

Maybe it is just the yucky end-of-winter weather, but now I feel all ugh, and in-between-ish about my place in the world of living history. I’m not your usual reenactor because I don’t do Civil War or Revolutionary War, I’m not your typical Museum person because I don’t make my living by working full-time at a museum.

At the Saturday dinner that was part of the conference I sat down at a table that looked mostly empty so other folks could decide to join me, but I would not be crowding out anyone if I chose to sit at the wrong table (hello flashbacks to grade school.) There was only one other person sitting at the table when I sat down, so she and I chatted while everyone else straggled in. She has 4 part time jobs and is also struggling to make a life out of history (and textiles in her case.) I mentioned that one of the things that Stephen and I do is offer workshops to reenactors on any number of topics from historical portrayals, to research, taboo topics, and (our favorite) interacting with the public. She thought that was fascinating and mentioned “putting out her shingle” to offer the same workshops herself. Doh, I should not have mentioned it. We really don’t do enough of those to need any competition. Sigh. 

I really hope winter is over soon.

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Tools for Effective First-Person Role-Playing

When chatting with some of the other folks that were new role-players at Strawbery Banke one of them mentioned that when she started she had a hard time getting into character and talking to visitors as if she was her historical role. This is an incredibly common problem, especially since she was given only one set of tools in training: the historical record. Don’t get me wrong, the historical record is incredibly important. Without facts, historical documents and scholarly interpretation, we would not have a foundation, nothing to stand on. Knowing how to write does not make you a journalist, or novelist. You can have the best costume in the world, and know the most knowledge, but if you can not get it across to your audience then you are not an effective first-person role-player.

There are two other sets of tools that I think someone needs to be an effective first-person role-player: interactive improvisation, and educational presentation. I believe both of these can be taught, and that they should be taught. The new roleplayers at SBM were not taught about education, it is expected they know a bit about teaching before they get to the museum. And many “professionals” look down on theatre as fiction, it is certainly not serious study, like us role-players. But without being able to teach, and without interactive improvisation, I would be much poorer at what I do.

I’ll talk about education tools first, since I think these will be the easiest for most folks to agree with. Every teacher out there will tell you that there are skills needed to be an effective teacher, I think many of those translate to being an effective first-person role-player. Not every visitor needs to know the exact same fact, there are many different ways to learn, not everyone makes a good discussion leader. A teacher can tell you all this and a role player can use them to get across all those great stories they’ve learned through research. Modern folks can empathize with folks from the past, we can learn about ourselves by learning about where we come from. Sometimes just knowing that our jobs as roleplayers is not only to get across the past, but to teach it, to relate it in ways that are meaningful to our audiences can boost our effectiveness.

The third tool that I use in every visitor contact is interactive theatre (yes, I went to a posh sort of college and spell it “re”.) There is an element of acting in Living History portrayals. It is not the same as acting in a play, or movie, but interactive theatre is very different from those too. When the audience is right there interacting in the story, you need to be willing to throw the pages of the script out the window, but not loose sight of the underlying story you are telling. It takes flexibility and empathy; you need to be a good listener, know how to stay positive, and not be afraid to look like a complete donkey. Theatre techniques, practice, and yes, games can be a lot of help.  I promise your audience/visitors/MoP/students will never know.

I started doing this crazy dressing up and acting like a person from the past (i.e. first person roleplaying) nineteen years ago with a little theatre background, a little history research, and basically no educational training. Since then I’ve not only absorbed a lot of history and some educational theory, but I was trained in interactive improvisational theatre. I am a much better role-player for my training, and I think all of us role-players could continue to improve with more of all three.


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You Have To Believe

I listen to NPR a lot, and recently on the way in to work (my temp work while the museum is closed) I heard a story  about a man who plays Santa Claus at this time of year. He said the most important thing, for him is he must believe that he is Santa. Even in the face of teenagers and beard pullers he must believe, once he puts on the suit, that he is Santa.

How true!

As someone who spends quite a bit of her time as someone else, often in the face of teenagers and (even worse) retired age men, I must believe that when I am dressed as Mrs. Shapiro and enter museum grounds, I am Mrs. Shapiro. I am in my kitchen preparing meals for my family. When in camp and I get dressed as Hanne Reischach, I am Hanne. On the march in foreign lands with my husband. If I don't believe it, who else will?





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Becoming Lizzie, Again

At Strawbery Banke Museum folks look forward, or at least plan for, the Christmas program all year long. Called Candlelight Stroll, the grounds are illuminated, there is hot cider, a bonfire, caroling, Saint Nick, and all of the historic houses are full of roleplayers. This means that people who have been roleplayers in the past come back for the three weekends of stroll, folks who are not normally roleplayers get into costume, and they even hire some outside folks, usually musical outsiders.

By August of this past season the other interpreters were asking me where I would be at Candlelight Stroll. They asked me if I’d be the third sister making Latkes in Shapiro kitchen. I love Shapiro, but two Mrs. Shapiros are probably enough. So I went to my boss (the one in charge of education) and asked if there was a different role for me, or if they had any holes they’d like to fill. She asked if I was musical, and had any reenacting friends who were musical… they had spent the last few years looking for a group to provide a drunken Irish servant party in the kitchen of the Victorian mansion.  I jumped at the chance for three reasons: not Shaprio, I would get to hire a few of my friends, and I would get to reprise the role of Lizzie Sullivan.

The last Candlelight Stroll that I worked at Strawbery Banke was the Stroll of 1999, and at that time I got to play Lizzie Sullivan, the 21 year old Irish maid employed by the Goodwin family. I was alone in the kitchen and behind the barrier but I was not allowed to touch anything, so I mostly chatted about all the pies I had made to help my older sister Sophie, the cook (who was downstairs in the cellar gathering root vegetables and stored items.) I had been portraying Lizzie once a week for most of the summer, using the Irish accent taught to me by my mom’s best friend (I have her first name as my middle name), who is bona fide Boston Irish. I wore a costume that was made for someone much bigger than myself (I told people it was my sister’s spare dress, the Goodwin children had just ruined mine.)

My love of Irish history goes back to my first Living History experience, in eighth grade, where the computer teacher and the English teacher taught us about the Irish potato famine so we all could write a journal from the perspective of a real immigrant who made the journey to Boston in the nineteenth century. So when, the first time I worked at The Banke, I was asked to play a Nineteenth Century  Irish Servant I was thrilled to do so. When I went back to college after working at The Banke I did a whole Independent Study and wrote up my Lizzie Sullivan script, with a lot more bibliography thrown in.

Lizzie Sullivan & George Rose,
photo by Jess Boynton, taken in our den.

This past summer, not long after enquiring about this year’s available roles, the Event Coordinator approached me and asked if I really could provide a drunken (acted) party with music for the Goodwin kitchen. I assured her I could, and would start to gather a musical servant posse right away. The first person I approached was Stephen. He is a better roleplayer than I am, plus he plays the Irish drum and we know a lot of the same Irish songs. I searched around for another instrumentalist (I only sing) and ended up with our good friend Kristina of Silver Thistle who, besides being an excellent historical costumer, is also a historical roleplayer and knows a lot of the same songs from years of acting at Renaissance faires. She also lives not too far from Strawbery Banke. Kristina made up a lovely dress, Stephen dug out his mid-nineteenth century clothing from our dabbling in the Wild West, and I borrowed a Strawbery Banke costume. In fact, I was given the same skirt that I wore 12 years ago. It fits me much better now. We rehearsed some drinking songs and some Irish songs, Kathleen (mom’s best friend) sent me a lovely cookbook of old Irish recipes, and we have had a lovely party in the kitchen for the last two weekends.

Lizzie and Sophie Sullivan in Goodwin Kitchen

There are no more barriers in the Goodwin kitchen, and we were told we could eat and drink (as long as it was not too messy.) I provided some food, the event staff provided some, the education staff provided others. It can get cold since the door is so often open, but we have hot water for tea, and a lot of layers of clothes. Goodwin house always has a large number of Junior Roleplayers for Stroll (I'll have to do a separate post of Juniors.) The Juniors, playing some of the grandchildren, string popcorn for our little Charlie-Brown-type tree, and make animals and fruit out of marzipan. We don't sing all the time, since usually there are so many people in the house we are all carrying on different conversations with different visitors. We always get to sing every sing once, and our favorites twice. Even the juniors join in on the songs they already know, or get to know the more time they spend with us. We tell jokes and tongue twisters, and tease each other all evening long while we spread Christmas cheer and maybe a little education too.

We’ll be there for one more weekend, I can’t wait, but I’ll be so sad when it is over. I have a lot more to share with you, hopefully I’ll be getting up a few more posts soon, including some cooking adventures, and future plans.

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Listening to others' stories

Strawbery Banke Museum role-players use a method of interpretation called First Person Interpretation  in our daily interactions with visitors. Since I was trained at Renaissance Faires I am very comfortable with first person, normally I have no problems making my way through a different century than those people around me. This season is my first reenacting someone in the 20th Century, and I am finding that first person is much harder the closer that you get to today.

When people walk into Shapiro house, especially folks of a certain age, the exclaim over the sewing machine, the ice box, the big stove, the carpet sweeper; many of them remember their parents having very similar items. As Mrs. Shapiro I chat about coming to the USA from Ukraine and many visitors have family stories also about emigrating from Eastern Europe. Mrs. Shapiro's story is important, but the visitors' stories are just as important. Why does first person interpretation make this a particular challenge?

When a visitor who looks to be old enough to be a grandmother herself comes in talking about her grandmother having a sewing machine just like mine, the real Mrs. Shapiro might react with incredulity that someone of her grandmother's advanced age would be around to have something so new. When a visitor mentions growing up with the same type of plumbing and had it in the house until the 1950s, is Mrs. Shapiro supposed to accuse the visitor of making up tales of the future? How could someone visiting her house have grown up in the future? In the buildings that are centuries earlier a gentle scoff in the direction of a visitor that is trying to play with the interpreter is fine, but as a museum professional I can not very well negate the personal connections that the visitors are making. I would not want to.

But I can not drop out of first person, that would not do at all. So what am I to do?

Sometimes it is enough to nod and smile. For Mrs. Shapiro, English is not her first language, so I play it that she probably thinks the mis-understood the individual words, but she understands the main point: a personal or family connection to her home. If folks go on too long I get a worried look on my face and then very deliberately say that I do not understand. Usually that is enough to make it clear to the visitor that Mrs. Shapiro must remain in 1919 while they talk about their own past. Sometimes I can steer them to talking about iceboxes, or immigration in a way that is less time specific so we can both talk about it.

Sometimes, I am lost for what to do; so I just go back to my cooking, cleaning etc. while the visitors chat with their own companions. I hate to walk away from a conversation, so if anyone out there has any advice on how to stay in first person while acknowledging the validity of modern visitors' stories, please let me know.
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Pies and Cabbage

Adventures in Historical Cooking

I've had many adventures in historical cooking over the course of the season at Strawbery Banke, including a newly found love of baking pies. who knew. My mother might be the most surprised about all of this.

As the season cooled I have thought of firing up the bake oven at Wheelwright house (where I cook at the hearth most Thursdays) but was reluctant. I've never done it before, it has been a fairly warm season, and I would feel bad firing it up without a good supply of items needing to be baked. Things came together recently when I had two days in a row in Wheelwright, and the weather has turned decidedly chilly. I took day one to read some of the materials in the house compiled by earlier hearth cooks and to make a ton of pie crusts and various fillings. 

I knew that the oven itself did not have a flue, it uses the main fireplace flue. I was worried about getting a fire started in there because of the airflow, but it turned out to be no problem at all. I started a good fire, kept adding to it, and all morning I watched the oven get hotter. By the time I thought to put an oven thermometer in there it was up to 650 degrees. Yup. I fired the oven. I raked the coals out, mopped the ashes with a soaked broom, then waited for it to cool down before I put in the first two pies. I did not wait long enough. The first two quickly burned to black. I waited a bit longer, and the next two turned out edible if you picked the burnt bits off the top. Ah well, I learned a lot.

I seem to have an admirer at the museum. I do not know what I did to deserve the praise I've received, but it does mean that I've attempted several cooking methods I might not have without of the confidence of others. This weekend in Shapiro house I made Sauerkraut. Actually, I started sauerkraut. It was not nearly as hard as I had thought it would be; I collected cabbages from various gardens throughout the museum, washed them, chopped them and then put them in a big crock and smashed the cabbage bits with a big masher. When possible I got kids to help me with the mashing, I probably should have got the adults to help me too because my hands were sore by the end of the day since I had made butter the day before and the motions were very similar. The reason why I saw I only started it is because to make sauerkraut the cabbage must ferment in its own juices. So I won't actually know if I've made sauerkraut for another couple of weeks. Just in time for the Museum season to be over. Sigh.

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Introducing Mary Stavers Fraser

Almost two months ago I started feeling like 4 days a week at SBM was one too few, and only one day as a role player was also too few. So I started dropping hints, to those just above me on the chain, to the person vaguely in charge of role players, and finally to the head of my department. I even mentioned I had quite a few outfits from eras represented by different SBM houses. Three weeks ago I was finally able to get into my 1770s clothing that some of you may have seen last January here and head on in to the Banke. I was set to play the eldest daughter of the tavern keep, recently married to a Captain John Fraser. There was not a lot of research done on Captain Fraser, but quite a bit done on Mr. Stavers and his family, they were a vaguely loyalist family, harassed through much of the Revolutionary war, but they stuck it out and by all accounts that I have read ran a successful tavern through the war and in the years to follow.

The problem with role playing in the William Pitt Tavern is that if someone calls in sick and no one is able to come in to cover for them, the interpreter in Pitt tavern will cover the empty slot, because Pitt tavern is the location of the museum's alternate entrance and ticket booth, so there is always someone else in the building. I'm telling you this because the first day I showed up in all my finery, one of my co-workers called out sick. The very first day. The weird part was they called out for the house shown about the year 1783, so actually my clothes were still appropriate. That house happens to be our hearth cooking house, and I am a hearth cook, so qualified to cover it. That house also happens to be Wheelwright house, the first house at SBM that I ever role played in. So there I was 13 years later, back in the house that I started at. Yup that was odd.

But since then I've been able to spend two days as Mrs. John Fraser, eldest daughter of the tavern keep, and I've enjoyed both days very much. I give tours of my father's tavern, that I assure visitors is usually much more active, but there is a horse auction scheduled for later in the evening, and everyone is out in the stables looking over the animals to be auctioned. There actually were horse auctions held at the tavern, so this way I get to talk about one of the lesser known but very important aspects of tavern life. I also discuss politics, but only 1777 politics, I make the families loyalist tendencies known while letting people know that most of our neighbors are firmly for independence. I wish I could say that most people get it, but I'm still figuring out how to convince folks that for Mary the year is 1777 and not 1943 or 2012.

In only two days (plus the months I've been contemplating the new role) I've learned a few things about Mary. She is Daddy's girl, and will not spend a lot of time in the kitchen unless she has to. She sees herself as the welcoming committee, the tavern's own concierge. She shares my habit of leaning against walls (Mrs. Shapiro definitely does not.) Mary also feels fairly ambivalent about her new husband and his career. That could be because I was not able to shake up any research done on him, I do not know what type of ship he captains, where he hails from, even how long he lives. It also gives her a reason to spend all day at her father's tavern.

If anyone wants to stop by in the next month, Mary Fraser should be in Pitt Tavern most Fridays, fingers crossed.

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Back at Strawbery Banke

Well my employment situation has been ironed out for a little while. The people who love me gave me permission to spend some time doing what I love. I am back at Strawbery Banke Museum.

I had a great interview, with someone who vaguely remembered me from my time there 12 years ago, and was willing to hire me back as a historic house interpreter, but also give me the opportunity to play in all the different playgrounds available at SBM. I had my first week last week, which I spent shadowing long-time employees to find out how things are done, and what has changed in the decade since I was last there. I got to shadow some museum teachers who were leading classrooms of 4th graders in an exploration of archaeology. I got to spend two days being an apprentice hearth cook and actually cook over a fire that is not located in the middle of the outdoors. I also got to spend some time in the 1919 house, which is staffed by a “Costumed Roleplayer” i.e. someone in costume in character doing a first-person impression of: Mrs. Shapiro, the Russian-Jewish immigrant. I have two more days of shadowing in Shapiro house before I put on the clothes myself!

I had mixed feelings about going back to a job that I held more than 12 years ago; haven’t I been climbing the non-profit ladder since then? I am taking a major pay cut earning half of the pay at my last job. I am trying to figure out how this is going to lead to more and better things. But after a week spent doing the things that I love to do I’m trying to stop questioning and just have a fabulous time.

I can’t wait to tell you all about cooking at SBM, and about making yet another character, but I’m going to save those for further blog posts. So stay tuned!


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FPIPN 2012

I have a ton to write about!
I’ve got to catch up this journal, because I have a feeling this summer is going to be full of Living History-type happenings. In fact, every weekend for the past month has been full of LH and that is not going to slow down any time soon. So here goes.

Almost a month ago now Stephen and I presented at a conference for Living History peeps called by everyone the “FPIPN (pronounced pippin.) Retreat”

The Basics:
- FPIPN stands for First Person Interpreters Professional Network.
- FPIPN is a sub-group of ALHFAM (Association of Living History, Farm and Agriculture Museums) specifically for museum folks who do this crazy thing we do.
- The conference was in Dover, Delaware, hosted by their lovely state history people with sessions held in amazing local historical buildings and museums.
- Attendees came from all over the US, but mostly from the east coast, most were professionals working at museums, everyone was incredibly friendly.
- The sessions were partly educational (teaching people how we do what we do) and partly study based (folks who are in post grad programs presenting papers.)
- This was the second retreat that Stephen and I had attended, the first being two years ago in Mystic, CT (listen to our podcast about that retreat.)

Stephen and I were presenting on two topics: “presenting religion from the first person perspective” and “Endowments, or bringing your audience into the story”. Since Stephen was starting a new job and I was starting a temp job we did not have a lot of time to prepare. But we’ve been presenting stuff like this at Reenactorfest and through the podcast for years, so we know how to put together an outline, how to share focus, and how to talk on just about any topic to fill a half-hour time slot. We even put together some simple power-point slides of our outline to keep us on topic and on schedule. People asked good questions and we got great feedback, so I think our presentations were a success.

We also did a really quick five-minute presentation of Gustav and Hanne Reischach. It was really bizarre, because we were not really in character, it was more like putting on the clothing and pretending to be in character. Stephen did Gustav’s talk to new recruits, and I (as Hanne) interrupted him to tell the women in the audience what their roles will be. It was bizarre because in a normal situation, Gustav and Hanne hardly ever interact during the day, they have different spheres of influence. Hanne would also never interrupt Gustav. But the audience laughed, and I hope they learned something. We got a lovely card from the organizer thanking us for all our participation.

Some of the most memorable parts of the weekend were the amazing buildings that we got to hang out in all weekend. Delaware really has a great state history organization and Dover is an incredibly beautiful town. Stephen and I both now want to go back. Getting to hang out with people who do what we do, love what we love, and share so many experiences is so rare for me and is always a wonderful experience. We had dinner in a hangar on Dover Airforce Base that has is now a museum. It was strange being dressed in 16th Century and looking at all those planes, but it was also really fun to play in the air control tower, and to take photos of George Washington on Airforce One.

I believe in Fate, and I was receiving some pretty strong signals while at the FPIPN retreat. Two of the people we hung out with had just completed Master’s degrees, one had done an online program. Two attendees came from the New York Tenement museum. I chatted with them a little at the end and told them that I was jealous that they got to portray Jewish history, which is something I’d always wanted to do. They said that I should come to work at the Tenement Museum, to which I replied that I lived in New Hampshire. Both then spoke up and said two things: Strawbery Banke Museum and Mrs. Shapiro. I used to work at SBM, and in fact have written about Mrs. Shapiro on this very blog.

On the way down to the retreat Stephen and I were both wondering if all the preparations, stress and travel would be worth it for this one weekend. On the way home I definitely felt it was well worth it.

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American Textile Museum

In March I spent some time volunteering a few days a week at the American Textile History Museum (which is not the Boott Mill, or the New England Quilt Museum) I was working in their fund raising database because they needed some clean-up done and I wanted experience working with Raiser’s Edge. I was only at it for about a month when I got a full time temp job, but my time there was well worth it.

I got to explore a very cool museum. Textiles play a huge part in our lives, and a massive role in our history. I got the chance to chill out in the exhibits after working for a couple of hours and got to study the dresses, the sample books, and all the cool items on display. I got to go behind the scenes and get a tour of the research library, and see some brand new dresses just acquired (19teens are all the rage!)

I also got to help out an institution that I enjoy. They’ve been through some rough times, some mismanagement and the recession. They are much smaller than during the boom years, and could use all the help they can get. I can not contribute money, especially when I am not making any, but my time was valuable to them.

I almost hope that I will get the chance to go back and help them out some more, maybe if I win the lottery...


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