Tuesday June 2nd 2020 was a day of solidarity around the world.
However we at Archaeologists Engage are aware that we must not show allyship on just one day, there must be a commitment in the international heritage sector, which facilitates access to the interpretation of history to do more, ongoing.
Yesterday we posted a statement about what we believed we could do to be better in our field of archaeology and cultural heritage. We wanted to share this on a more permanent platform with you all, as something of a mission statement.
As ARCHAEOLOGISTS and cultural heritage professionals we have a particular opportunity to bring about change in the narrative.We work internationally, across the world, cross-cultural and cross-disciplinary. We can help stop discrimination.
What can we do?
We can ensure diversity in our research institutions.
We can ensure diverse excavation teams.
We can be inclusive of community groups and indigenous communities when planning projects.
We can be inclusive of community groups and indigenous communities when planning projects.
We can amplify the voices of local archaeologists.
We can counter misinformation.
We can ENGAGE more with our communities.
We can ENGAGE more with our communities.
We can acknowledge the politicisation of our work.
We can become involved in education programmes.
We can highlight and work with charities to provide access to heritage and about heritage to minority or disadvantaged communities.
We can highlight misinterpretation in past work.
We can call out problems.
We can tell the stories that need telling.
We can empower individuals.
We can empower communities.
As educators, researchers, institutions, cultural centres, community activists, volunteers, professionals…..
We can do more
We can make discrimination out of date
#makediscriminationoutofdate
Thank you for reading and engaging!
Dr Tathagata Neogi, Dr Belinda Tibbetts, Linn Marie Krogsrud, Emily Wapshott
News from science and
about research has become a regular part of today’s mediascape, and public
outreach is considered an important component of universities’ and research
institutions’ communication strategies. Hinting at the peculiar importance of
science communication thus must seem like a platitude. Yet still there is quite
noticeable debate about the question whether or not scientists should actively
participate in the communication of (their own) research. It would be absurd
and surely counterproductive to construct ‘communication pressure’, but the
benefits (for both sides) of active science communication are worth pointing
this out again.
In archaeology our
work and research are enjoying particular and remarkably large public interest
– as proven by a quick glance into any newspaper stand and bookstall or
respective TV shows. The market for popular scientific contributions to
archaeological and historical topics has become almost unmanageably large. However,
all too often next to this interest in archaeology in general, lots of clichés
and stereotypes seem to dominate these popular accounts. The public image of
archaeology and archaeologists is characterized by object-focussed treasure
hunt, romanticized adventure, and bravado.
It seems that there is no lack of communication of archaeological subjects. It is just not necessarily coming from the researchers themselves and not always covering the topics we would prioritize or emphasize. Of course it is absolutely reasonable and most welcome to have journalists covering matters of science and reporting on the work of researchers. Actually, this is explicitly desirable. But journalists are very much depending on the willingness of said researchers to cooperate – and to communicate. Actually, this is where active science communication starts. It is absolutely legitimate (and sometimes even necessary) to leave this task of translating research results into comprehensible language to professional communicators.
Concisely conveying complex topics (especially those occupying a significant period of one’s time) can be a challenge – to scientists as much as to everybody else. Problems arise when specialists start drawing back from public discourse, leaving depiction and discussion of research data to others completely. This creates a gap. A gap that is being bridged by others then. Interest in and demand for information remain – indifferent of an active communication offer coming from science itself (or not). Research data will still be mediated and interpreted … but now without the active reflection and (where necessary) correction of those who produced these data. If this is the case, science and researchers are voluntarily and incautiously giving up relevance in shaping the perception of their own research narratives.
Archaeology
may be looking back into the past, but it never seems to lose relevance for present
topical debates – as repeated coupling of archaeological / historical data and
current events in daily media reporting suggests. Yet monocausal models
proposing essential impact of, for example changing climate, on social systems
up to (allegedly) failure of past cultures are reducing complex data to
occasional single occurrences. Or the correlation of current discussions about
migration with the results of ancient DNA analyses from a limited number of
prehistoric burials which are – often not further commented – brought up to
provide historical depth to an otherwise momentary debate, but leave out many
other relevant (and from case to case rather individual) factors. Instead this
conjunction revives nationalist images of a 19th century archaeology,
narratives the discipline believed to have abandoned long ago. Narratives of
this kind are often based on over-simplified explanations, but once more they
also emphasize the general interest in such reporting. And there always remains
a chance to correct such narratives.
More serious than
ideas going back to deficient information are those blank spaces which are
seized by communicators with a specific agenda. In the worst and most extreme
case the partial, uncommented, and out of context emphasis of single cultural
phenomena or hyper-diffusionist analogies establishes and deepens
pseudoscientific narratives. Narratives for instance, claiming that
(pre)historic or indigenous cultural achievements were not coming from these
peoples themselves, but from mythical super races of the past or from extra-terrestrial
beings – as was proposed for the Neolithic megaliths of Stonehenge, the
Egyptian pyramids, or the colossal Moai sculptures at Rapa Nui to just name a
few. The subtext of all this mystification in the end always leads to racism;
‘Alternative’ explanations would be the only logically right ones since such
‘primitive’ cultures hardly could have been able to accomplish these
achievements.
Such made-up theses
are particularly dubious from an ethical point of view, since they can be, and
actually are, used to justify and legitimize political-extremist positions.
This was illustrated for instance recently with a revival of the (highly
controversial and problematic) ’Solutrean Hypothesis’ among the US Alt-Right
movement. According to this hypothesis the first human occupation of the
American continent during the Upper Paleolithic about 13,000 years ago was
emerging from Europe and not from Asia via the Bering Strait – thus ethnically
white Europeans were the real Native Americans, including all related rights to
land etc. Of course, such claims can hardly withstand a scientific examination,
but the narrative exists and is being spread. Replacing the vague concept of
‘white European’ with Vikings or Germanic people or Aryans in other variations
of this lore opens up an even larger canon of related examples – effectively illustrating
that scientists are not relieved from their obligation of publishing and
delivering raw data, but that there also is need for an interpretational
framework to provide these data with some context.
Science communication
means social responsibility, science communication means to help avoid
misunderstandings, to counter unknowingly, but also especially purposefully,
misleading narratives. The public does have an interest in our work. Which is
not only good, but essential for legitimizing research – which, at least in the
humanities, is often paid for from public funds. Naturally this means that the
public also has a right to be informed about this research, that science and
scientists on the other hand have the obligation to inform, to communicate
about their research. If not directly to a public audience, then necessarily through
mediators like journalists. It is time to understand science communication as a
genuine part of research, and to plan research staff and projects accordingly.
Science communication is not a chore, it is a chance. The chance to shape and
change the perception of our work, of research in general and archaeology in
particular – and its relevance for society.
Jens Notroff studied Prehistoric Archaeology,
History, and Journalism in Berlin. His is in particular interested in Neolithic
and Bronze Age archaeology and cultural heritage protection. He is currently
working on his dissertation about the miniature swords of the Northern Central
European Bronze Age and is a research assistant in the German Archaeological
Institute’s Göbekli Tepe research project.
Oliver Dietrich studied Prehistoric Archaeology
in Berlin. His research focus lies in the Near Eastern Neolithic and the Bronze
Age particularly of southeast Europe. He is currently writing a dissertation
about the socketed axes from Romania and is a research assistant at the German
Archaeological Institute’s Göbekli Tepe research project.
(This text was
first published 9th November 2018 in German at
wissenschaftskommunikation.de)
As an archaeologist, it seems inevitable that one
ends up spending one’s holidays exploring heritage. Preferably in combination
with hiking and other outdoor activities, and in the company of others who
enjoy the same. This summer, I had the pleasure of hiking Hadrian’s Wall in
northern England with a family member. This proved to be an exciting
opportunity to compare my impression of how the heritage is communicated with
that of a non-heritage professional.
Hadrian’s Wall is inscribed on UNESCO’s World Heritage
List. It was built around AD 122 by the emperor Hadrian, and is an impressive
stone wall that stretches from the mouth of the River Tyne in the east to
Solway Firth in the west, more than 130 km. When it was finished, it consisted
of a high wall with a ditch and forts, towers and garrisons at regular
intervals. Today many sections of the Wall are gone, while others have been
rebuilt at a later date.
We started our journey near Brampton in Cumbria, and hiked for three days before ending up at Chollerford in Northumberland. We stopped at the garrison at Birdoswald and spent half a day at the Vindolanda museum and excavations. The communication strategy at the Wall is thorough. Most features such as towers have signs with illustration of what it would have looked like in AD 122, and information about the construction of the Wall.
A section of the Wall at Hare Hill.Illustration of a watchtower.The remains of a watchtower.
The information and illustrations paint a vivid
image of what it was like to be a Roman soldier working there. Visitors are
really taken back in time and given a sense of the magnitude of the building process.
This is an impression shared by both of us hikers. The signs and exhibitions
also gave an insight into the cultural melting pot that was the Roman army. The
Mithras temple is an excellent example of this. Mithras was a deity that was
worshipped in the Roman army, and later gave way to Christianity.
The Mithras temple along the wall at Carrawburgh.
In addition to shedding light on life at the Wall, you are also presented with information about what happened to the Wall after the Romans left, how it was used as building material and the ‘rediscovery’ of the Wall in modern times. This gives a sense of continuity and links to the past that are very valuable. On many archaeological sites, the archaeological record is seen as completely distinct from the present.
The Vindolanda museum in particular has done an
amazing job bringing Roman Britain to life, with its display of artefacts, such
as the Vindolanda writing tablets, in combination with video installations and models
of how objects would have been used. The exhibition takes particular care not
only to display the show-stoppers, but also to display artefacts showing
everyday life. The Vindolanda museum also included displays of life as an
archaeologist, including an ‘evidence room’.
A showcase at the Roman museum at Vindolanda.
Excavations on site are still ongoing, and all
visitors can visit the excavation and get information from the archaeologists
on site. On the grounds, one can see a reconstructed Roman tower of timber and
stone, to see how well the towers would have kept. This was a refreshing angle
that gave a sense of the grandeur of the constructions.
Wall recreations at Vindolanda.
All in all, Hadrian’s Wall is very accessible.
Both in terms in how it is communicated and how to get there. A shuttle bus
continuosly services the major sites, museums and Wall sections, meaning that
everyone can get there. Plenty of reading material and maps are available, so
you can explore the Wall at your own leisure.
The history of the Wall was mostly seen from a
Roman perspective. I did wonder if the signs would have been different had they
been written from a native ‘British’ perspective. Just imagine if some
strangers built a wall through your field?
One thing I did miss was more information about
the other parts of the construction that comprised the Wall. Although some signs
mentioned the ditch running alongside the Wall. It would have been even more
impressive if more than the actual wall was maintained and signposted. In some
fields it was possible to discern the ditch and other earthworks – these should have been marked with signs of
their own. This notion was not shared by the non-heritage hiker.
Linn Marie Krogsrud is a Norwegian archaeologist. She works as a heritage advisor for Buskerud County Municipality and is a member of ArchaeologistsEngage.
One of the most ambitious projects that Heritage Walk Calcutta has been itching to take on is engaging students in heritage conservation. As a part of the three-day FUTURE (T)HERE International Youth Conference On Sustainable Living 2018, Heritage Walk Calcutta’s team worked with kids from Calcutta, Guwahati, and Kharagpur, discussing the legalities of conserving Calcutta’s built heritage. This conference, hosted by the Goethe Institut, Kolkata, was a perfect opportunity to help the students question the definitions and facts and rote learning that are often the bane of history classes. Asking individual students about their own understandings of words like ‘heritage’, ‘community’, ‘sustainability’, ‘conservation’, or ‘ownership’ — and even ‘old’, ‘ancient’, and ‘modern’ – brought to the fore the general confusion around what heritage means. The fact that Grandma’s old recipe book can also be a part of an individual’s heritage helped them come to terms with ideas of private and public ownership of heritage, and how ‘old’ things or ‘ancient’ artefacts are not the only ones worthy of being ‘heritage’.
On
a personal level, it amazes me how little I learned about the general history
of Bengal and Calcutta in school. We knew all about the Indian Independence
Movement, the Harappan civilization, and even bits and pieces about Hitler and
the World Wars. What was sorely lacking from my education was the concept that
being a part of history was not an honour meant only for the nobles or elites,
the gallants or villains. Instead, it is about you and me, our grandparents,
our families, our letters, and the spaces we inhabit. The area now known as
Calcutta was not transformed in the span of a day by the efforts of Job
Charnock. Beginning from fishing hamlets, rivers and creeks, and a
Pilgrim’s Path that goes back centuries before Calcutta got its name, the
developmental history of the region has often taken a backseat in the face of
its colonial and postcolonial narratives.
During
the conference, we introduced the students to the city, its history, and why it
is how it is – all through visual mediums including maps, old photographs, and
paintings. Before they could doze off to the hum of the projector, we led them
out into the open and headed to Dalhousie Square on the first day of the
workshop. They were suitably impressed on learning how St. John’s Church was
built on an old burial ground, how it was overcrowded because of the high
mortality among the first waves of Europeans visiting Calcutta in the 1700s,
and how malaria, one of the many killers of the time, would be treated using
mercury and bloodletting, often killing the sick anyway. St. John’s Church also
happens to house Job Charnock’s Mausoleum, whose architecture is anything but
European. We were pleasantly surprised when the kids correctly surmised that
the local architects of the time probably did not know how to build
European-style architecture, and that was the reason for its Indian design.
Heritage walk at Dalhousie Square on Day 1 of the workshop
The
next morning the kids were excited about the prospect of another walk, this
time to the sites around Kumartuli. The workshop was designed to let them
observe the differences in the state of conservation of the built environment
in various sections of the city. Our primary aim was to show them places they
would not normally have access to, or even notice; by walking the streets, they
learned to be more observant and empathetic to the needs of the spaces they
populate.
The
questions started pouring in once we started walking around Upper Chitpore
Road, beginning near Bagbazar Ghat and ending at the Bhagyakul Roy Family
Mansions. One of the children’s questions that stayed with me was: “Why should
we preserve this building which apparently has no significance other than this
woodwork sculpture on top? Why not keep that in a museum, and make the housing
conditions more liveable?” This leads us to a larger question – what about
creating community museums in Calcutta, or even a Calcutta Museum? Is the
single gallery in Victoria Memorial sufficient for our future generations to
fall back on? Why should we expect them to fall back on dusty papers and
government documents in corridors full of bureaucratic red tape? Should the
history of our city, the one we live in, not be available to the people of the
city in a form that is relatable, understandable, and memorable?
The author simplified important aspects of the city’s heritage law for the students
On
returning to the Goethe Institut, we had the children dissect the Kolkata
Municipal Corporation’s mandates on heritage buildings, including snippets from
the KMC Act of 1980. The task was to determine the specific legalities that
could be used to improve the situation of the buildings we had seen on the
walks, and how the law could be modified to be more flexible and sustainable in
the long run. The students were divided into groups of threes and fours so that
each could work on a different aspect or site for their final presentation.
It
is sometimes distressing when innovation and creativity has to end in an
action-oriented audience presentation in a short period of time, but the
students masterfully dealt with the twin challenges of time and content. During
the prep hour, their questions and concerns started pouring in: who owned the
buildings; who owned the artefacts; should there be a dedicated museum for the
communities; why are some buildings well-restored while others are falling
apart; how can an estate be owned in the name of a god; why do the authorities
not accept help from private citizens or involve the community; how can the
community come together to achieve the sustainable conservation of sections of
the city; and so on and so forth. It was humbling for me to see how much they
had understood and unearthed in the short span of one and a half days. Amidst
the volley of facts and stories and the sensory overload, the students had
found breathing space from their rigorous academic pursuits to pursue lines of
independent questioning about their own heritage.
To tie all of the
lessons together, the last day of the conference included a visit to the community
associations and Taoist temples in the Old
Chinatown near Tiretti Bazar, Poddar Court. The
community here draws their lineage from five different villages in the
Guangzhou region of southern China. The descendants of people from each village
have their own club and temple. As a classic example of community engagement,
Mr. Lee from the Sei Vui temple and community association talked to the
children about the origins of the club and the history of the Chinese
immigrants, who were historically an important trading and industrial community
in Calcutta. The club dormitory, which served as a resting place for new immigrants
from Sei Vui village in the early 1900s, has recently been repurposed into a
restaurant. As an excellent example of the reuse of heritage spaces, this visit
reinforced the idea that heritage conservation is very possible for the people
of this city and those who care about it.
Mr Lee, the Secretary of the Sei Vui Club in Old Chinatown discusses the history of the Chinese community and how the Club members plan to preserve their heritage
For their final
presentations, the three groups of students created: a quiz; a legal review of
the current state of certain buildings; and a status report on the state of
conservation of different sections of the city. While Group 1 worked on a
trivia quiz on historically significant structures, they also came up with
questions like “Who owns heritage? And what is our role in conservation?” They
did a great job of putting our thoughts into words and presenting them to the parents
and teachers who came to participate. Group 2 did a review of Madan Mohan Tala,
buildings in various stages of dilapidation on Fancy Lane, and a house located
on Upper Chitpore Road. They worked with the varying aspects of ownership and
how certain legal functions of a temple estate are different from those of a
corporate or private owner. I am glad they decided to work on an
oft-misunderstood aspect of the conservation efforts around the city. The
members of the third group presented a grading of sites according to their
level of risk, regardless of their ownership. They focused on the relevance of
heritage sectors in a city, where magnificent structures with forgotten owners
deserve to be saved too. Highlighting places like Bishnuram Chakrabarti’s Shibtala
and St John’s Church in various stages of the conversation spoke to how much
they had retained, both in terms of facts and figures and their visual
impressions, including architectural details.
Group 2 worked with varying aspects of ownership and how certain legal functions of a temple estate are different from those of a corporate or private owner
It is difficult to put into words how glad I am to have met these children who worked hard and convinced the general populace that ‘doing’ heritage and heritage walks is a gratifying and necessary objective for a concerned citizen. While it was fun to work with the kids, I have concerns about whether our social bias of pushing children to study science and technology will let them accomplish their own goals of heritage conservation, however small they may be. It also brought forward how the legalities involved in heritage efforts need to be simplified, and that the communities around heritage structures can themselves engage in collecting funds, formulating plans, and giving shape to conservation efforts. A lot remains to be done in terms of heritage identification and mapping, before steps can be taken to ameliorate the condition of the built heritage in the city. Bringing the people of the city together by creating a common digital platform for them to locate and document our built heritage is a very real dream for us. Petitioning the municipal body to disentangle the legalities of grading heritage buildings, or even clarifying the community’s role in sustaining any heritage conservation efforts will help the community come to terms with their heritage and rights to it. This city and the people have a lot of fight left in them. We would like to give their and their children’s hopes a place to find fruition.
Acknowledgements: Goethe Institut-Kolkata, Suvodeep Saha, Srinanda Ganguli, and Chelsea McGill.
Disclaimer: All images used in this post are the ownership of Heritage Walk Calcutta and may not be used without proper permission.
Pritha Mukherjee is a Research and Development Associate at Heritage Walk Calcutta.
My first experience with archaeology was through the Young Archaeologists Club in the Netherlands: as a young teenager, we could actually go excavate every weekend, discover artefacts and document those, while the lead archaeologist would turn all of that into a good story. I remember spending weekends in a castle, cleaning sherds, and trying to reconstruct pots. The best thing was having the area around the castle for ourselves in the evenings. This way of working with archaeology was about getting a personal thrill, a satisfaction, discovering and learning new things. It did not take long until we started explaining to passers-by about the exciting things from the past we had just found out. Maybe we were attention seekers in the beginning, but our stories improved and so did our methods. We learned to try out how we believed people in the past had cooked, fought, worked, not just to test our ideas, but also to tell others.
Open-air museum at Oerlinghausen, Germany
I then went to university and there it hit me: many people do research (that is what they teach you there), but the question “why do you do this?” is not often asked. Is it personal satisfaction? I got the question at my next university, though. After gaining my MA, I started working in a museum. I was eager to go tell complete strangers about what I had learned at university, from books and excavations. My museum colleagues however had different methods to do research and also different stories with mixed qualities. Now, I learned very fast not to become the Authenticity Police but help these colleagues in doing simple but effective research. It is very important that literature has become more accessible in recent years, and is not monopolized by scientists. Many archaeologists have become more approachable for the public. Even if ten percent of those approaching scientists may be difficult cases, we should not turn ourselves away from the other ninety percent.
These museums are good at quite a lot of things, but if it would be a bit better structured, so much more value would come out of it. I feel that these museums are very much in the air, not linked well with science on the one hand and with the public on the other. So I went back to university, and did a PhD in archaeological open-air museums. On my first day there, I got the question: “do I want to do research to pursue an academic career (ivory tower) or is my intention to use what I learn in the real world?” I believe there are enough archaeologists out there doing research, but if we do not make the insights we gain from that available to the public, then why do research, except for personal satisfaction?
My position, I feel, is in-between: sitting in a museum, I can help get the message across to the public, but without underlying research, these stories are worthless. That is why I am part of an international network, called EXARC. This is an international networking organization for Archaeological Open-Air Museums, Experimental Archaeology, Ancient Technology and Interpretation. EXARC aims to improve professional standards and promote professional ethics. We provide advice, information, practical tools and learning opportunities to our members. We issue publications and provide opportunities for members to meet. Finally, EXARC actively represents the interests of its members.
Experienced people or newbies, all are working with reconstructing the past. Our membership (300 members across 40 countries) includes Lofotr in Norway, Guédelon in France, Saalburg in Germany, and Butser in the UK. We are a very mixed group of people and organisations including scientists, museums, craftspeople, teachers and actors. More information about EXARC, including an open access Journal with hundreds of articles, can be found at: https://exarc.net.
As EXARC director, I facilitate our members, showing them where in our network to find the answers, the resources and ideas for quality research and dissemination. We believe in open access, not only online, but also the chance for outsiders to step into our bubble and ask questions, join us in conferences, workshops or writing their first serious research article and publishing with us. The strength of EXARC is our diversity. We decided very early we do not want to be an exclusive club of museum directors only, but an inclusive network, somewhere at the edge of the establishment and those who rather step off the beaten path.
Our aim is to improve the stories told to the public: not just making sure the latest archaeological research is reflected in the museums and at festivals, but also how professionally these stories are told. One can have a brilliant professor orating for an hour but he should be a good researcher, actor and teacher, all in one person. You do not find such people easily. And there is more to it: it is not just about the Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, which in a museum context means that if there is no good coffee and toilets, people will not be able to pick up the message you try to share with them because physiological needs are not met. It is also about simple things, like you may have a great story to tell, but how do you reach your potential audience, how do you convince them to come and see you?
I started with archaeology because of the great stories about the people who were here before us. I however believe there are much greater researchers and better storytellers in this world. With EXARC, we create the tools; we master the logistics of how to get these stories across. Janus Bifrons was a Roman god. He was the patron of our Young Archaeologists Club; god of beginnings, transitions and endings, he looks in two directions.
I am fully convinced that if you look in only one direction, you will hit your head hard, very hard. We should work together towards a well-informed presentation of the past to the public, with relevance to the present. That is the only way to catch the attention of the audience and enable them to learn something useful from the past.
Roeland Paardekooper is Director of the ICOM Affiliated Organisation EXARC (International Organisation of Archaeological Open-Air Museums and Experimental Archaeology).
On 27th March 2017, Heritage Walk Calcutta, in collaboration with Made in Bengal and ArchaeologistsEngage, hosted the year’s first GoUNESCO Make Heritage Fun event in Kolkata, India. Make Heritage Fun is a global initiative by GoUNESCO, aimed at celebrating local culture—simultaneously, across the world. This campaign provides a platform for heritage and culture enthusiasts to share local heritage with others in their community. In Calcutta, we organized an event to help children with hearing-related disabilities explore Calcutta’s history through a guided and assisted 2-hour walking tour inside the compound of St. John’s Church, one of the oldest in the city. For this event, we were proud to work with the Ideal School for the Deaf, located in Salt Lake, Kolkata. 26 of their students from 6th to 10th grade (12-17 years old) and 6 teachers actively participated in this event. The tour was led by Tathagata Neogi, an archaeologist and the co-founder of Heritage Walk Calcutta, and translated into sign language by the accompanying teachers.
After the walking tour, we asked the children to create a
work of art about what they learned during the walk. When ready, these paintings/sketches will be shared
through our online platforms and displayed during an exhibition at the Ideal
School for the Deaf later this year.
VISION
The accessibility of historic sites is an issue that has not
been widely addressed globally. While some countries have recently passed
legislation to ensure the accessibility of major historic sites for various
groups with disabilities, this issue has not been systematically addressed in
India, despite the country’s rich tangible and intangible heritage, and large
population of people with disabilities. By conducting a heritage walk
specifically aimed at children with hearing-related disabilities under the
GoUNESCO Make Heritage Fun umbrella, we at Heritage Walk Calcutta wanted to
start a discussion about the issue of accessibility in India’s historic sites. Heritage
Walk Calcutta and our collaborators believe in a common, shared heritage, which
members of disabled communities have an equal right to access.
PREPARATION
Heritage Walk Calcutta approached GoUNESCO about hosting
this event under the Make Heritage Fun umbrella at the end of February. The
original plan was to provide a bus tour of several major heritage sites for
school children. When GoUNESCO approved our application to host an event, this
idea was further refined in the hope of addressing accessibility issues in
Indian heritage sites. At this time, our collaborators, Made in Bengal and
Archaeologists Engage, came on board to provide support for the event. The idea
of a bus tour was abandoned in favour of a walking tour to increase the
experiential value of the event, and to give ample time for the children to
connect with a single historic site in a deeper way.
The St. John’s Church complex was chosen as the venue
because of its central location and historical importance as the first Anglican
Cathedral of Calcutta. The church compound also houses the graves of Job
Charnock, the “founder” of the city, and some other important East India Company
personalities from the city’s very early days. The Church complex is also a
protected site under the Archaeological Survey of India, which is a perfect
setting to start discussions about the accessibility of heritage sites, and
which does not have any restrictions on entry. Finally, since the children have
hearing-related disabilities, the church compound provided safety from the fast
moving traffic on some busiest streets in Kolkata, just outside the walls.
After this plan was finalized, we approached the Ideal
School for the Deaf through a common friend. Their authorities were very
enthusiastic about the event. We discussed our plan with the head of the
institute and other faculty members to come up with an accessible narrative for
the children. The school requested that the event be done on Monday, March 27th,
rather than on Sunday, which was the day of the international event. GoUNESCO
very kindly agreed to let us host the event on this alternate day to make it
easier for the children to attend, since many of them come from very far
distances to attend the school. The Friday before the event, Tathagata made a
presentation at the school to give the children some historical context through
pictures and paintings, with translation into sign language. This also provided
us, the students, and the teachers with a warm-up run for the event.
To ensure the accessibility of the information during the
walking tour, we prepared visual aids for the children. This included print
outs of important names, dates and numbers in large fonts and visible colours.
Tathagata also spoke slowly in Bangla so that the children, who are experts in
lip-reading, could get some information immediately, without waiting for the
translation. Both Tathagata and the teacher who was interpreting stood on higher
ground whenever possible throughout the tour so that all of the children could easily
see them. A small welcome kit was also provided for the children and their
teachers, which included a bottle of water and some snacks.
FUTURE DIRECTIONS
The issue of the accessibility of historic sites is very
close to our hearts at Heritage Walk Calcutta. We believe that, while one-off
events like these can spark a discussion, this talk will die out if it is not
regularly followed up by similar events and workshops. Heritage Walk Calcutta
is therefore committed to making significant contributions to this discussion
by organizing follow-up events for various disabled groups and by working with different
stakeholders to make heritage sites more accessible for disabled communities.
Heritage Walk Calcutta is an
academic-run company in Kolkata that aims to increase awareness of heritage in
the community by connecting scholars and the common people through walking
tours and workshops.
OUR
COLLABORATORS
The event would not be possible without the active support of
our various collaborators and GoUNESCO. Here, I briefly introduce our
collaborators and thank them for their support.
Ideal School
for the Deaf: Established
in 1967 by the Society for the Deaf, the school functions as a not for profit
institution to provide free education for hearing impaired children. The
organization is based out of Salt Lake Sector I, Kolkata, India. The school
caters to students from all backgrounds in the Kolkata area and beyond.
Made in Bengal:
‘Made in
Bengal.in’ is a digital platform for any product/service made by the people of
Bengal..in Bengal…for the people of the world. The Made in Bengal team
constantly work with artists, artisans and weavers to innovate in order to keep
traditional techniques intact! The aim is to bring on more artists,
manufacturers, designers, weavers, musicians, theatre artists, and so on, to
this single e-platform and reach out to the world with our products, culture,
art and cuisine.
ArchaeologistsEngage: An independent non-profit group of archaeologists who came together to enable engagement between professionals and the public.
This content was presented at the European Association of Archaeologists Conference in Vilnius, 2nd September 2016.
Sustainability has become one of those terms within heritage studies, with its meaning
seemingly reducing the more it is used. It has become an all-encompassing
tick-box term that provides enough justification in itself to gain the approval
of funding bodies and those who want to keep heritage practice and research
socially-relevant. As such, I was not necessarily expecting a lot from this
session; at best hoping for a few interesting case studies that could be
transferred, adapted or used in my own work. However, TH2-21 was much better
than this: it had a common, if subtle, thread that linked the papers, and
touched upon a broad range of issues that are actually critical for the future
of archaeology and heritage as both a profession and a wider societal activity.
The session started with an interesting presentation from
Anna-Carin Andersson of the University of Gothenburg. Her paper, Sustainable heritage and archaeology – a
blessing or a curse? focused on archaeologists and the profession, and came
to the somewhat unexpected conclusion that the concept of sustainability is not
useful for archaeology: instead we should think about feasibility. It is not often that archaeologists approach the
concept of what is professionally
sustainable, and so this was a welcome break. Andersson left us to consider
whether the EAA should move more towards being a Pan-European trade union; I am
not sure about the benefits of this, but it is certainly a worthwhile
discussion following the important work done in Discovering the Archaeologists of Europe.
A further discussion on practice was provided by Jan
Vanmoerkerke of the French Ministry of Culture. Various legal frameworks affect
the scale, scope and nature of archaeological work in France, and in the case
of this paper we could also perhaps read sustainability as feasibility, but
from a different perspective. If archaeological authorities only have finite
resources and cannot investigate all building works, what should be
prioritised? Land use and planning, as well as the law, need to be considered
and connected in order to minimise the loss of archaeological sites and give
heritage a sustainable future.
To papers from colleagues in Poland moved us back towards
our interaction with the public. Anna Zalewska of the Polish Academy of
Sciences introduced the concept of archaeological
social responsibility, looking specifically at how we should address dark
heritage and painful memories. This examination of the ‘memory boom’ was taken
further by Kornelia Kajda of Adam Mickiewicz University; archaeologists should
show that there are multiple pasts and histories and contribute with detail to
enhance ‘public’ understandings of the past. Kajda looked particularly at the
concept of Urbex, the exploration of abandoned places by the public:
here-and-now experiences that inspire people to engage with heritage.
Sofia Voutsaki of the University of Groningen examined the
use of the past in Laconia, Greece. To a certain extent, there were some
similarities between this paper and that of Zalewska, in that it explored ideas
of an appropriated and/or authorised past. Nationalism and identity were key
elements here; but is seeking out and portraying a glorious past a sustainable
strategy?
In Here I Live –
interpretations of the past, present and future, Anita Synnestvedt from the
University of Gothenburg introduced us to a project centred on a stone age
monument situated within a residential area that is today home to many asylum
seekers and people with immigrant backgrounds. The project shows how it is
possible to use archaeology and heritage as a motor for integration and as a
focal point for community-building. Engagement, involvement and giving the
community a stake in the area’s heritage is critical in order to ensure a
sustainable future for both the monument and those who live around it.
The final presentation was led by Andrea Travaglia from the
University of Amsterdam and introduced a European portal for the blending of
natural and cultural heritage management. It is in many ways a paradox that
despite the World Heritage Convention connecting natural and cultural sites on
a shared list of global significance, there is often little actual practical or
administrative link between natural and cultural heritage managers. This online
tool, then, is an attempt to give natural heritage professionals a better
understanding of cultural heritage, and vice versa, with the hope that it will
lead to better and more holistic thinking and practice. To a certain extent,
this paper brought us back to the start and thinking about the sustainability
or feasibility of our profession. Is a sustainable future to be found as nature-culture
experts or is it essential that we stand in on the cultural/human/social side?
Sustainability, then, is not always an empty term. This
session showed that it is perhaps best to see the concept of sustainability as
a vessel which can be filled with multiple interpretations and meanings. The
wide range of papers here testify to the fact that sustainability does not need
a one-size-fits-all definition, and nor can we give it one. Archaeological
sustainability is central to the discipline, and is arguably unconsciously
present in the thoughts and actions of every archaeologist – although in
different ways: from thinking about the feasibility of the profession, to the
wider impact of one’s research, to the creation of a realistic excavation
budget. Examples and ideas relating to sustainability lie latent and
unconnected. Perhaps, then, in order to make the broader public aware of
heritage and give archaeology and archaeologists a louder voice and role in
society, we need to be more active when thinking about sustainability. How do
one’s actions help make archaeology – at whatever scale – more sustainable? The
lessons of this session suggest that we need to be more audible, more visible,
more engaging, more engaged, more open and more collaborative.
Mark Oldham is an archaeologist with a keen interest in outreach and the role of archaeology in society. He works in Norway.
One could argue that one of the most important aspects
of archaeology is the public outreach. We have an obligation to share our
growing knowledge with our community in order to give credibility to our work.
What would be the point otherwise? Usually, the public comes into contact with
archaeology through museum exhibits, lectures, daily news, scientific articles
and books. The last ones are rarely aimed for the public and the museums are
struggling with exhibiting more than just artefacts. Since our source material
is produced in the field by field archaeologists I believe that it is here the
meeting (real or metaphorical) between the public and the archaeologist should
take place. If it’s through guided tours or a local journalist doesn’t really
matter. What matters is what is said.
In the last 5 years or so there has been a positive
change when it comes to public outreach in archaeology, at least in Sweden.
This is, I think, largely due to the breakthrough of social media and the use
of smartphones. An archaeologist can now easily give a brief report of what she
or he is doing with a photo and a few lines of text. Several of the
archaeological institutions also have blogs where they continually write about
their projects, with content written and aimed for the public.
In 2009 I did a study of the conveyance of medieval
archaeology in a journal called “Populär
Arkeologi”. This is the only popular archaeology journal in Sweden and it
has been coming out quarterly since 1983. By studying the content of every issue
for two periods of time: 1983-1989 and 2003-2009, and comparing that content
with the development of medieval archaeology at the university, I was able to
see if the articles in the journal reflected the development of the subject.
This empirical study acted as a foundation for the study of responsibility and
lead up to the question: What is the
situation of responsibility when it comes to field archaeology and public
outreach?
In Sweden the law states that an archaeological survey
or excavation has to take place if a contractor wants to build something that
is suspected to affect archaeological remains, visible or hidden beneath the
topsoil. The contractor has to report to the County Administrative board and
they, in their turn, decide whether it’s necessary to start up an
archaeological project or not. The law
also states that the contractor has to pay for the archaeology. This system
results in an abundance of archaeological projects where a lot of information
is produced continually.
Table 1. Hierarchy
of responsibility. Note that this is based on Swedish circumstances.
Politicians / Government
Has the ultimate responsibility. Can make actual changes that enables more funding to public outreach in archaeology.
County administration
Makes the decisions for contract archaeological projects. Could demand more effort in public outreach and approve higher costs.
University
Could include more systematic training in public outreach.
Contract archaeological institutions and companies
Has the responsibility to manage the competence in public outreach.
Archaeologists
Is in direct contact with the public and has the responsibility to conveyarchaeology in a responsible way.
Popular archaeological journals
Could, as an independent actor, raise the issue of archaeology beingintegral in the development of our society.
Several of my fellow archaeologists claims that they
are working with public outreach as much as they can. But then we must ask ourselves,
what kind of archaeology are we conveying? Well, basically it is the history or
prehistory that we focus on in our outreach. In our communication with the
public, directly or via a journalist, our message boils down to facts about human life in history and or
prehistory. That’s not bad in any way. Our job is to produce these kinds of
facts. But there is more to archaeology –
especially field archaeology.
The responsible way to convey archaeology is not only
to focus on these facts but all the stuff surrounding archaeological science. In
my opinion we have to include the following two aspects in our public outreach:
The development of archaeological research. Archaeology is more than artefacts. It develops with
our society and scholars are influenced by the current zeitgeist, which in
itself is constantly changing. It’s not treasure hunting.
The roll of field archaeology and the physical
development of our environment. The field
archaeologist in Sweden plays a vital role when it comes to urban and rural
planning and it’s crucial that the public is aware of how the system works.
My hierarchy of responsibility (see table above) tries
to summarize the complexity of the situation where everyone has a part to play.
My opinion is that it should begin at the universities with the education of
future archaeologists in how to deal with the more complex sides of
archaeological public outreach. If we can establish a routine and a sense of
comfort in conveying all aspects of archaeology, at the departments and in the
field, we can do our subject justice.
To summarize, I want to stress the fact that we ourselves, as archaeologists, have a responsibility to our own collegium and to the public equally, to convey not just the dating of artefacts but also our methods and research thesis. What are the particular questions we’re looking to answer when we are writing our reports? The public has the right to know and I think it will benefit the archaeology in the long run.
Erik Johansson is a Swedish archaeologist who specializes in medieval pottery.
I did my MA in Experimental Archaeology in 2006-7. Part of
the course was two modules on communication and outreach; one for academic
communications and one for working with the public. Part of the course was also
to highlight experimental archaeology as a research method. I knew I liked the
latter part better. To research on my own was my dream. I actually had this
picture of myself with a box full of archaeological lithics that I would tip
out on a table and peruse with a steaming mug of coffee and a notebook.
Post-MA, I started to do my own experimentation. I realised that to do archaeological experiments you needed space – it truly can be very gritty, messy, and smelly, and you would not want to use your office. I also realised that with space comes an audience. You are typically doing prep-work and experimentation either in a public or a shared space, where people regularly walk both by and into. That means you have to tell people what (the earth) you are doing. I soon came to realise that to work in a shared space is a very useful stimuli to my research, and it also felt good to see that others could be interested in my work.
A bonfire firing of pottery during my PhD, together with friends and colleagues, was one of the most rewarding experiences throughout my entire postgraduate degree
As a part of my early experimental career, I twice executed
own experiments at Land of Legends in Lejre, Denmark. Land of Legends was
founded as an archaeological research centre in 1964, and has later evolved
into a shared space for research and visitation. In this space – now formed as
an open air museum – researchers have since the 60’s performed experiments in
front of an audience who are intentionally visiting to see experimentation in
practice. We should have enough experience from crafts demonstrations in
archaeology by now to know that visitors like to see action in practice, but
the performance of a research experiment in front of an audience adds another
layer to the visitor’s experience, as people are stimulated to ask their own
interpretive questions and enter into discussion with the archaeologist directly.
But, what is less often highlighted is the other layer it adds to the
researcher’s own experience of the experiment, and how s/he would approach the
entire topic and problem.
For me, personally, and the teams I have been working as
part of, the presence of an audience has been a particularly valuable
contribution to an experiment. It makes me think about why the experiment
should be done, as this explanation is regularly called for. Also, the audience
may open new lines of insight. Once, while experimenting with aceramic birch
bark tar extraction at Lejre, a chemist from the conservation department of the
National Museum of Copenhagen came by, and stayed for hours while us
experimenters discussed and learned about the chemical prerequisites for the
necessary procedures to occur. Other parts of the audience have been crafts
specialists, such as the pyro-technological insight of a professional potter.
But in general, the questions vary from “what is that” to “have you thought
about adding…” (these two opposites are actually very frequently posed); and
from “can I do it” to “Would you like to try?” – “No thanks.” The various research
teams and experiments I have been part of have ranged from the total and
necessary exclusion of spectators, to the total and obligatory inclusion of
spectators. Even when I have experimented in private space, such as a garden,
we have invited people to witness and opine on our procedures. Even if
outsider’s suggestions are not particularly helpful, we have honed our own argumentation
of the research problem to perfection.
My various positive experiences from working in groups and
inviting the audience in has made it hard for me to experiment on my own. To
me, it feels rather lonely, and I am also not able to gauge interest for my topic
in the same way. There are no stimulating discussions around my topic, and my
arguments stay the same, and they are not necessarily very good. I have
therefore sought out an audience by including for instance students, friends or
colleagues. I prefer to be able to bounce ideas off others, and others seem to
like to be present to discuss my research problems with me. It has made me
think more broadly about issues relating to my experimental questions, and sometimes
has turned the experiment in new directions entirely. It is of course also
personally rewarding to get the acknowledgement of others. As part of my PhD,
only one of the four case experiments I set up have been executed by me alone,
and to be honest, this is the experiment that means the least for me
emotionally. I literally feel that it has not been approved, and is therefore
less interesting than the three others that have gotten quite a good audience
response.
Although this is not necessarily the case technically, I
have become an experimental team worker. Especially since I am not a
technological specialist, but rather have my specialty in the methodology
itself, I have not taken part in the crafts environment that an experimental archaeologist
is often a member of. For me, the audience has become my social environment and
has the same functionality as a discussion between technological colleagues: I
discuss my ideas with non-archaeological friends, I have learnt about
chemistry, beer brewing, food plants, materials engineering, and archery, and I
have taught and explained experimental archaeology in return. This dynamic
environment has not only made me a better experimenter, but a better
archaeologist. I have been enabled with the understanding that our professional
understanding is not necessarily better, only different. I am able to justify
what I do to its fullest extent. And in doing so, I have had so much fun I can
barely begin to describe it.
Tine Schenck is a Norwegian archaeologist with a specialism
in the experimental methodology in archaeology.
