Smithsonian Collections Blog

Highlighting the hidden treasures from over 2 million collections

Collections Search Center
Showing posts with label 2013 Archives Month. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2013 Archives Month. Show all posts

Friday, November 1, 2013

Failed Invention? Go Figure!

Manikin parts, circa 1930s
True story: not all inventions succeed. We tend to hear about and celebrate the inventions that change and advance the ways in which we live and experience the world. We don’t always know and talk about failed inventions, but looking at inventions that didn’t work is an important aspect of documenting the invention process. Understanding the failure as well as the contributing factors is just as important as determining why inventions succeed. Numerous issues, including the lack of access to manufacturing support, capital, raw materials and/or supplies, markets, in addition to poor timing, can lead to the demise of an invention. 



One example of a failed invention is a mannequin or “manikin” created by Landy Hales (1889-1972), an artist-inventor who was a master at using mechanical displays in department store windows. Hales patented a manikin (US Patent 2,129,421) and founded Hales Manikins, Inc. in 1941 to manufacture and sell them. The manikin was an articulated (jointed skeleton), child-size figure with a flexible outer covering of sponge rubber or elastic. As seen from these images, the manikin, assembled and disassembled, was extremely complicated. Hales built these small prototypes as an effective way to learn about what would and wouldn’t work and to determine if the manikin could achieve/perform the intended motion. Hales’s papers contain the records of his effort to patent, manufacture and sell manikins. The documents reveal through sketches, patents, photographs, correspondence, and the minutes of the Board of Directors for Hales Manikins, Inc. the processes he undertook. The visual documentation provides good evidence of Hales’s prototyping efforts to create a workable model.

Hales was unable to manufacture and bring to market his manikin. Even after extensive research, experimenting, and construction of models, patterns and forms, a workable model for the display market was never produced. Hales’s financial backers, Monford Trillett and Mackubin, and Legg & Company, were not willing to spend more money on the venture and Hales Manikins, Inc. was dissolved in 1948. Hales Manikins, Inc. was one of many creative ventures Hales pursued in his lifetime. His layered posters and window displays for Macy’s are recognizable and well documented. To learn more about Hales's inventive life, visit the Archives Center and the Landy Hales Papers.

Blueprint of drawing for skeleton framework for child manikin, circa 1930s

Alison Oswald, Archivist
Archives Center, NMAH

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Spooked in the Stacks

Child with Jack-o-lantern [photoprint]. From J. Horace McFarland Collection, Archives of American Gardens.
True story: archives aren't as creepy in real life as they are in movies. There aren't cobwebs hanging from the shelves, and no dust clouds blown off crumbling books stacked haphazardly atop one another. They aren't lit by archaic lanterns or candles and there usually isn't anyone in a tattered and hooded black robe behind the desk.

But that doesn't mean we can't find some spooky materials in our (un-cobwebbed) boxes. Today, we celebrate the creepy (and cute!) items in our collections with a Halloween scrapbook, put together by the archivists and librarians from around the Smithsonian. Take a looooooooooooook!


[Funerary floral arrangement] [stereograph]: "Skeleton Leaves." Historic Gardens Stereograph Collection, Archives of American Gardens
WWI soldier facial reconstruction casts and masks, ca. 1918, Anna Coleman Ladd Papers, ca. 1881-1950, Archives of American Art

Sandy Low and Happy Horrigan with the "ghost" of Charles Mahoney, 1925. Charles Mahoney collection of photographs of students at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, ca. 1925, Archives of American Art


Scene from a Theatrical or Film Performance [graphic]. Myron Bement Smith Collection: Antoin Sevruguin Photographs. Freer Gallery of Art and Arthur M. Sackler Gallery Archives.

Miss Duckett[Her classroom and students; from envelope] [acetate film photonegative,] 1947 November. Scurlock Studio Records, 1905-1994, National Museum of American History. 
 
“Cobweb House” by Charles Burchfield (1954).
Walter Rosenblum Collection, Photograph Archives, Smithsonian American Art Museum

Informal portrait of Charles Nungesser, French WWI ace, standing beside his Nieuport XXIII.  NASM A-48746-A. National Air and Space Museum Archives.

 

The "coeur noire" ("black heart") was the personal insignia of French WWI ace Charles Nungesser.  NASM A-32949-A. National Air and Space Museum Archives.

Happy Halloween!
Cecilia Peterson, Project Archivist







Wednesday, October 30, 2013

George Peter Alexander Healy (1813–1894), Cosmopolitan Artist

Self-Portrait by George Peter Alexander Healy, not dated,
oil on canvas, National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution,
Washington, D.C. (NPG.70.17)
The theme for American Archives Month is True Story, which fits well with the life of George Peter Alexander Healy, who was a leading nineteenth- century portrait and historical painter in America and Europe. Born in Boston, he developed an early talent for art and received support from such portraitists as Jane Stuart and Thomas Sully. In 1834, Healy departed for Paris to continue his studies with the French artists Antoine-Jean Gros and Thomas Couture. By the mid-1840s, he established public recognition by exhibiting at the Paris salons, and winning awards and patronage of important American and European leaders.

From 1840 to 1848, King Louis-Philippe of France commissioned Healy to create a portrait series of royalty and European and American statesmen for the historical collection at the Château de Versailles. Healy’s portrait series for Versailles was a combination of his original works and copies after earlier masters of more than forty historical figures, such as Elizabeth I, George III, and Charlotte Sophia of England, George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton, Benjamin Franklin, John Paul Jones, Horatio Nelson, William Pitt, and Daniel Webster. It was a great opportunity for the artist, who gained permission to copy the original portraits at Windsor Castle under the approval of Queen Victoria. This experience provided Healy an invaluable study of portraits by great masters such as Thomas Gainsborough, Thomas Lawrence, and Joshua Reynolds. He returned to America to portray Andrew Jackson, John Quincy Adams, and Henry Clay from life sittings for this series. At first Jackson resisted, but he was eventually won over by the young artist’s mission. Healy completed this last memorable portrait of Jackson shortly before the former president died in 1845. Although Louis-Philippe was deposed in the 1848 revolution, the French government kept Healy’s portrait series at Versailles as originally planned. On a 1994 visit, I had the privilege of reviewing the Healy portrait collection for the Catalog of American Portraits survey at the Musée National du Château de Versailles.


Abraham Lincoln by George Peter Alexander Healy, 1887,
oil on canvas, National Portrait Gallery,
Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C. (NPG.65.50)
In 1851, Healy completed his most ambitious history painting, entitled Webster Replying to Senator Hayne, which featured130 individuals at the 1830 congressional debate about the constitutional nature of the Union. In 1855, he won a gold medal at the Paris Universal Exposition for his painting Franklin Urging the Claims of the American Colonies before Louis XVI. In 1857, the United States Congress authorized the commissioning of Healy to create a series of presidential portraits for the White House. The artist portrayed American statesman and military leaders as well as presidents, including James Madison, John Jay, John Marshall, Martin Van Buren, John Tyler, James Knox Polk, Franklin Pierce, James Buchanan, Abraham Lincoln, Zachary Taylor, Ulysses S. Grant, and William Tecumseh Sherman.

William Tecumseh Sherman by George Peter Alexander Healy, 1866,
oil on canvas, National Portrait Gallery,
Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C. (NPG.65.40)
Healy was an engaging, talented artist who easily mixed with all levels of society and prominent leaders in America and abroad. Traveling extensively for work, he crossed the Atlantic more than thirty times and lived in London, Paris, Rome, and Chicago. Healy’s success was due to his ability to capture an individual’s likeness and personality. He also experimented with lighting, artistic techniques, and new materials for his paintings. Healy was a prolific artist who created about hundred portraits a year during the height of his career. Unfortunately, many of his artworks were lost in the 1871 Chicago fire. His portraits are currently held in numerous public collections, including the Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery, the Corcoran Gallery of Art, and the White House, Washington, D.C.; the Chicago History Museum; the Virginia Historical Society, Richmond; the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston; the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the New York Historical Society; and the Louisiana State Museum, New Orleans. He was the first American artist to be honored by the Uffizi Gallery in Florence to present his own portrait to its celebrated self-portrait collection. Healy’s international influence paved the way for later generations of American artists such as John Singer Sargent and William Merritt Chase, who are also included in the Uffizi’s self-portrait collection.
In 1966, the Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery founded the Catalog of American Portraits (CAP), a national portrait archive of historically notable subjects and artists from the colonial period to current times. The public is welcome to access the online portrait search program from the museum website of over 100,000 records. The CAP program can be reviewed here.

Patricia H. Svoboda, Research Coordinator
Catalog of American Portraits, National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution


Websites:
George Peter Alexander Healy portrait collection, Musée National du Château de Versailles, France

Franklin Urging the Claims of the American Colonies before Louis XVI by George Peter Alexander Healy, c. 1847, oil on canvas, American Philosophical Society Museum, Philadelphia (58.P.28)

Webster Replying to Senator Hayne by George Peter Alexander Healy, 1851, oil on canvas, Faneuil Hall, City of Boston Art Commission

The Peacemakers by George Peter Alexander Healy, 1868, oil on canvas, White House Historical Association (White House Collection), Washington, D.C. (947.2558.1)

Bibliography:
Healy, George P. A. Reminiscences of a Portrait Painter. Chicago: A. C. McClung and Company, 1894.
De Mare, Marie. G.P.A. Healy American Artist: An Intimate Chronicle of the Nineteenth Century. New York: David McKay Company, 1954.
Fink, Lois Marie. “Healy, George Peter Alexander.” American National Biography Online (February 2000).
Voss, Frederick S. Portraits of the Presidents: The National Portrait Gallery. Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution, 2000.
Voss, Frederick S. “Webster Replying to Hayne: George Healy and the Economics of History Painting.” American Art 15, no. 3 (Autumn 2001): 34–53.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Restoration of the Curtiss SB2C-5 Helldiver: From Airplane to Archives Back to Airplane

True story: when you are restoring an airplane, you may need to make a trip to the archives. The National Air and Space Museum is working to restore our Curtiss SB2C-5 Helldiver, currently located in the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar at the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center. This process involves many of the Collections units, including Preservation and Restoration, and Conservation. These units have had to work closely with the Archives Department. Why? We hold many of the documents—drawings, technical manuals, photographs—that guide the process! A good example of the relationship between the archives and aircraft restoration is the recent creation of a new clip for the Helldiver.

Curtiss SB2C-5 Helldiver in the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar.  NASM 2013-03237

Earlier this year, NASM Restoration Specialist Will Lee removed the outboard trailing edge of the Helldiver’s elevator. Some of the component parts, including clips connecting the ribs to the trailing edge and the trailing edge itself, were damaged beyond repair. Given their current state, he determined that he would need to reconstruct this section of the aircraft completely. He decided to return to the original source—Curtiss manufacturer’s drawings for the U.S. Navy.

NASM Restoration Specialist Will Lee works on the Helldiver's elevator.  NASM 2013-03238
The National Air and Space Museum Archives holds over 16,000 rolls of 35mm microfilm covering over 600 different types of aviation equipment. This collection includes a set of eighteen reels of drawings for the Curtiss SB2C-3, SB2C-4, and SB2C-5. Each roll could contain up to 1000 individual drawings, though the average is about 400 to 500 drawings per roll. To complicate matters, the set was donated without an index!

The quality of the Navy microfilming process was mixed. Some drawings are completely legible; others are quite impossible to read. An intrepid group of seven museum volunteers worked six hours a day, four days a week, for four months to provide an index to the Helldiver microfilm. 

Using the index and a parts catalog from the Archives, Will determined which assembly drawing he needed for the individual clip. He then requested a paper reproduction from the Archives. Although many of the original drawings may initially be difficult to read, the Archives can work with the microfilm print to enhance its legibility.

The original assembly drawings, however, only give the actual size of the components, not the direct dimensions actually needed to manufacture the parts. Using the assembly drawing and several math formulas, Will calculated the proper dimensions to make his own construction drawing for the parts.

Clockwise from top: original assembly drawing, Will Lee's construction drawing, drawing attached to metal, and folded metal piece.  NASM 2013-03244
Will then photocopied his new drawing and attached it to a sheet of metal, folding the piece to fabricate the clip. After compressing a standard cylindrical tube to make an airfoil-shaped tube, he formed the rest of the elevator section. Then, using tubular rivets, he attached the newly fabricated clip to the newly fabricated tube to form part of the new elevator section.

New clip for the Curtiss Helldiver SB2C-5 (left) compared to the parts originally found on the aircraft.  NASM 2013-03240
This same scenario has played out for numerous members of the restoration staff as they request drawings for other parts and sections of the Helldiver. The Archives has been excited to assist with the restoration of the Helldiver and we look forward to its display at the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center in Chantilly, Virginia.

Elizabeth C. Borja, Archivist
National Air and Space Museum Archives


Monday, October 28, 2013

Archivists & Librarians: Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Fonds

The author. Image digitally altered to include glasses.
True story: I work at the Archives of American Art, but I am not an archivist. I'm a librarian in archivist's clothing (which doesn't actually look that different from librarian's clothing). When someone asks you what you do at a cocktail party and you reply "I'm a librarian," people nod knowingly, picturing shelves of books and women wearing cat-eye glasses shushing patrons (side note: I don't actually wear glasses, but I do love shushing people).  Archivists share a similar fashion sense, but the general populace has less of an understanding of what they do, so much so that one of my archivist colleagues sometimes tells people at parties that she is a librarian, just to avoid the blank stares. But what's the big difference anyway?

Professional archivists and librarians generally hold the same degree - the Masters of Library Science (or Information Science, as the trend is these days). We both organize, care for, describe, and provide access to intellectual materials. One divergence is how those materials take form. Whereas libraries deal primarily in books, which exist in many copies, archives deal in collections of unique documents which can come in widely differing formats. As a library art cataloger in my last job, I dealt with three formats of material: prints, photographs, and drawings. At the Archives of American Art I have cataloged all of the above plus a myriad of other materials ranging from audio recordings to diaries to one pair of rubber underpants.

Rubber underpants, between 1949 and 1966?
Emily Genauer papers, Archives of American Art,
Smithsonian Institution.
Another difference comes in how those materials are described. In a library, materials are generally described on a one-to-one basis (one book = one catalog record), whereas materials in archives are usually described at the collection level (one collection comprised of many letters, photographs, etc. = one finding aid). It takes a significant mental shift for someone accustomed to the one-to-one to look at the big picture. Fortunately for me, the main purpose of my job is contrary to the normal archival pattern of description. I describe items that have been digitized on an individual basis, so I still get to provide the one-to-one ratio that I am accustomed to, but I have also learned to take into account the context of the collection these items come from. For example, the rubber underpants on their own don't tell much of a story until you know the context that the entire collection can give you - namely, that Emily Genauer (the recipient) was a newspaper art critic and Clyfford Still (the sender) was an acerbic-tongued painter who didn't appreciate her review of his work (the attached note reads "Hoping this will aid in concealing your Sunday afflictions").

Three years into my time in the archival world, I feel like much less of a librarian interloper, even if I do still think that "fonds" sounds more like a character from Happy Days than a body of records. Perhaps I might even suggest a title change to Archibrarian. Librarchivist? Oh, maybe I'll hold on to Librarian just so I don't have to confuse people at parties. But in the meantime, I'll be celebrating Archives Month with the best of them.

Bettina Smith, Digital Projects Librarian
Archives of American Art

Sunday, October 27, 2013

The Guardian of Downtown Harrisonburg

I went to college in Harrisonburg, Virginia. One of my regular outings was walking from campus to downtown to visit friends and shop at the great consignment shops. On every trip downtown I'd pass this sculpture.

It is a lady, with her hair pulled back at the nape of her neck, seated, wearing Greco-Roman style robes, looking melancholy. There is a rifle and a helmet resting by one of her hands. It is a memorial to the fallen of World War I from Rockingham County, Virginia.

On my trips downtown, this memorial signaled that I was nearing my first destination, either the town library or my favorite consignment shop. After graduation, I didn't give it much thought until decades later.
Charles Keck working on a sculpture, 1945 / Dorothy Gale, photographer
Charles Keck papers, 1905-1954. Archives of American Art


A few years ago, I was working on updating the collection record for the Charles Keck papers at the Archives of American Art. Part of my routine as a cataloger is to do a search on the name to double-check biographical information on the subject. I also regularly look at the images associated with a name to get an idea of the art the person created. Suddenly, I'm looking at an image from my college days! There she is, the Guardian of Downtown, reminding me of happy treks with dear friends quoting “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead” and discussing the mental health of various Romantic poets and how their mental health affected 20th century students of their work.

I enjoyed learning about Charles Keck, the creator of the Guardian of Downtown (formally known as Liberty). Turns out, he was a fairly prolific sculptor just before and after WWI. He designed sculptures for Duke and Columbia University as well as the state seal for Virginia.

It was delightful to stumble across something that brought back a little of the remembered joy and a touch of melancholy as those college friends are scattered now and visiting is no longer as easy as it was when we ate nearly all our meals together.

Michelle McDaniel, Cataloger
Archives of American Art

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Heart and Soul!: The Ellis B. Haizlip Papers

This summer I had the pleasure of reorganizing the Ellis B. Haizlip Papers at the Anacostia Community Museum. The papers, accumulated by Haizlip throughout his adult life, tell the true story of Haizlip's fascinating life as a television producer and of a variety of American social and cultural interests during the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s.


Rehoused Haizlip materials.  Photography by Leanna Duncan

Ellis B. Haizlip worked on shows such as Soul!, a variety show featuring notable African-Americans from entertainers to artists to political figures, and Watch Your Mouth!, an educational sitcom designed to encourage an acceptance and appreciation of both diversity and formal English language usage in teenage viewers. He also produced plays and other live events, such as tributes and award ceremonies, and was involved with dozens of political, cultural, and community organizations, including a diverse spread of groups working for racial and LGBT equality. Documents relating to these interests are plentiful within the collection.


Photography by Leanna Duncan
Above is a 1982 flyer calling for a demonstration against a violent attack on Blue’s, a Black gay bar. Notably, the flyer asserts that the attack was motivated by both racism and anti-lesbian/gay sentiment. It cannot be ascertained from the documents whether Haizlip attended this demonstration, or was merely informed of it.


This envelope is part of Haizlip's Stamp collection.  Photography by Leanna Duncan
The program below is from the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, of which Haizlip was a board member. It is autographed by Betty Ford. Other notable programs in the collection include a playbill signed by a very young Denzel Washington and one featuring short biographies of Al Pacino and James Earl Jones before they became the household names they are today.


Photography by Leanna Duncan
Besides programs, the collection also features other printed materials, including newsletters and magazines. Additionally, there are many newspaper and magazine clippings dealing with a variety of issues of interest to Haizlip, including South African politics and apartheid, music (ranging from Bob Marley to Duke Ellington to Cindy Lauper), and various domestic columns offering up pot roast recipes and interior decorating trends. The variety of topics addressed in the texts offer up both a picture of the things that interested Haizlip and a fascinating cross-section of the U.S. media landscape in the 1970s and 1980s.

I had a wonderful time exploring the Ellis B. Haizlip Papers and hope that researchers will enjoy them as much as I did!

Leanna Duncan
2013 Summer Intern
Anacostia Community MuseumArchives

Thursday, October 24, 2013

True Story? Glass Lantern Slides

The Smithsonian Collections Blog theme for American Archives Month is True Story--a simple enough assignment until you go looking for one! According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the word 'story' is defined as 'a narrative, true or presumed to be true.' In the case of glass lantern slides, presuming that the story they tell is completely true can be a bit problematic.

Glass lantern slide images c. 1920s-1930s from the J. Horace McFarland Collection at the Archives of American Gardens.
Which one tells the true story?
Thousands of historic glass lantern slides in the Archives of American Gardens dating back to the 1920s and 1930s depict gardens and landscapes at their finest and were often used to illustrate lectures like our modern-day PowerPoint presentations. Before color film became prevalent, a colorist, or person who applied translucent paint to black-and-white film on glass, wielded a great deal of power when producing these lantern slides. The shades they used may have heightened the actual plant colors or even introduced a completely different color palette! Considering that the coloring was typically done in a photography studio far from where the images were photographed, it is anyone's guess just how accurate some of the details are.

These two images from the J. Horace McFarland Collection highlight just how untruthful the colorist's artistry could be. While the images are exactly alike, the colors are radically different. Transforming a clump of purple irises to yellow irises was as easy as choosing a different paint color--no replanting necessary. The artistic results are stunning, but can be a nightmare for garden historians trying to identify specific plants for garden restoration purposes.

Regardless of how truthful they are, even today, hand-tinted glass lantern slides should be celebrated for transporting their viewers to colorful and inviting locales, places where black-and-white images would be a drab substitute. In this case, 'presuming' their truthfulness is certainly an understandable error.

Joyce Connolly, Museum Specialist
Archives of American Gardens

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

A Treasury of Smithsonian Shutdowns

Ronald Wilson Reagan / 1981-1989
from the portfolio Hindsight is Always 20/20,
R. Luke DuBois, 2008, Smithsonian American Art Museum,
negative number 2011.9.38
Closing the Smithsonian during the budget showdown this month was an extraordinary event. Has this ever happened before? If so, how was this shutdown different?  Prior to 1980, if no federal budget was passed, administrations cut non-essential spending such as travel and new hires, and furloughed individual agencies or programs but never shut down the entire government. However, the 1980 balanced budget legislation left little flexibility to keep open essential functions of the government, such as air traffic control and federal prisons.  President Jimmy Carter worried about the effects of a government-wide furlough and secured a judicial ruling that the president did have “leeway to perform essential functions and make the government ‘workable’ until the budget impasse is resolved.”  Smithsonian managers drew up a list of essential personnel that included security officers, zoo keepers, and building engineers, among others. 

True story: on November 23, 1981, for the first time in U.S. history, a one day government-wide furlough was ordered by President Ronald Reagan, with 400,000 of 2.1 million federal employees furloughed. The Smithsonian sent home most staff and closed the museums. Essential staff, such as guards, keepers at the National Zoo, and building engineers stayed onsite, and employees were paid for the furlough day. In October 1984 Reagan furloughed federal workers for another half day. 

In the absence of a final budget, throughout the summer of 1990, SI administration prepared for staff furloughs threatened by a Gramm-Hollings-Rudman Act mandatory 32% sequestration of federal funds in the absence of a final budget. President George Herbert Walker Bush vetoed the budget and closed the federal government from Oct. 6-8, 1990. The impact was softened because this was the Columbus Day weekend. The Smithsonian did close all museums, and the National Park Service closed their parks. Essential employees did remain at work, and many staff simply worked at home.   When President Bush announced that federal workers would not be paid, Congress passed legislation ensuring that they would. Questions were raised as to whether trust employees, such as museum shop staff, should be paid for the days the museums were closed, since federal employees were paid for the furlough days.

New York Times headline, December 16, 1995


Pat Oliphant cartoon of budget battle between Newt Gingrich,
Bob Dole and Bill Clinton, 1994, National Portrait Gallery, NPG.2005.159
The largest government shut-down was yet to come. After a budget impasse between President William Clinton and the Congress led by House Speaker Newt Gingrich, the government was closed for six days, from Tuesday, November 14 to Sunday, November 19, 1995. Smithsonian non-essential staff were furloughed, and the museums and zoo were closed until a CR was passed on November 19th. In December of 1995, the continuing budget standoff between Clinton and Gingrich led to a government wide shut-down for 21 days from December 16, 1995 to January 5, 1996. Only emergency Smithsonian federal personnel were at work, and most Smithsonian museums were closed to the public, until Saturday, January 6, when they reopened to sparse visitorship. Since the closure was at the height of SI’s holiday tourist season, SI tried to keep at least some museums open. The SI got security officers to take leave without pay from their federal positions and become temporary trust fund security officers. NMAH and NASM were opened from December 26-31, 1995, using volunteers and trust fund employees for a skeleton staff. A temporary Vermeer show at the National Gallery of Art was kept open with private funding. 

Castle after snowstorm of January 1996
Eric Long, Smithsonian Institution Archives
Negative number 96-1825
On Sunday, January 7th, a major blizzard paralyzed the region with more than two feet of snow, and the federal government closed for three more days. Some Smithsonian employees returned to work on Thursday, January 11th, but on Friday, another snowstorm closed government offices again. After four weeks, normal operations resumed on Monday, January 15, 1996. Essential employees had remained on the job, despite the fact that they were not being paid. All federal employees were later paid for those days but had to find alternate sources of income until those paychecks were issued.  The Smithsonian created the Smithsonian Employee Emergency Assistance Fund to provide loans to staff for basic necessities of life.

So the October 2013 government shut-down had several precedents. However, instructions that federal workers could not work voluntarily made the shutdown more complete with all museums and the zoo closed, and all but the most essential functions cancelled.

Pamela Henson, Director, Institutional History Division
Smithsonian Institution Archives

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Jim Pepper: Jazz and Native American melodies


True story: Native American musicians have been involved in jazz from its earliest days. Mildred Bailey (Coeur d’Alene) was the first “girl singer” to front a jazz big band in the late 1920s and early 1930s. Musicians such as “Big Chief” Russell Moore, Oscar Pettiford, Charlie Parker, and many more self-identified as being of Native American heritage. In the 1960s, Native American saxophonist Jim Pepper played with many of the greats of the free jazz scene, including Don Cherry and Ornette Coleman, and was a member of Charlie Haden’s Liberation Music Orchestra in the in 1970s.  

Witchi-Tai-To score from NMAI.AC.062
Handwritten musical score to "Witchi-Tai-To," by Jim Pepper.  From the Jim Pepper Sheet Music Collection, NMAI.AC.062
Aside from his remarkable musicianship, Pepper stands out for having brought Native American musical ideas into jazz itself. Pepper’s mother was Creek and his father was Kaw, and he grew up listening to his father’s father sing Native American Church peyote songs and traditional Kaw melodies. These influences stayed with him, and years later found their way into his composition “Witchi-Tai-To,” which was built around one of the peyote songs Pepper learned from his grandfather. He first recorded “Witchi-Tai-To” with the jazz-rock fusion ensemble Everything is Everything, and it found commercial success upon its release in 1969, reaching #69 on the Billboard Pop chart. Pepper recorded “Witchi-Tai-To” again in 1971 on his record Pepper’s Pow Wow, which featured giants of the jazz fusion scene including Billy Cobham and Larry Coryell, as well as American Indian singer-songwriter Peter La Farge.

Jim Pepper's saxophone, 26/6293
Jim Pepper's Selmer "Balanced Action" Saxophone.  26/6293
Jim Pepper continued to be active in both jazz and the Native American cultural community until his death at the age of 50 in 1992. His family donated his saxophone and several of his beautiful handwritten musical scores to the National Museum of the American Indian in 2007.

Pepper made a lasting impression on jazz musicians, Native and non-Native. For example, saxophonist and poet Joy Harjo honored Pepper in her recording “The Musician Who Became a Bear: A Tribute to Jim Pepper” from the Smithsonian Folkways recording Heartbeat 2: More Voices of First Nations Women.  

Michael Pahn
National Museum of the American Indian, Archive Center