MX8 09.27.17

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Echoes of the Past at the Manzanar War Relocation Camp
by Jon Sweitzer Lamme, photos by Siobhan McKissic

It is taken as settled in Western preservation practice that whatever is available to be preserved is all that should be preserved—there should not be an effort to “restore” or re-create what has been lost—and that we should preserve all that we have—nothing should be removed or replaced once something has come under the care of preservationists. However, this attitude is not universal. In Japan, for example, temples are regularly demolished and reconstructed with new, identical materials—it is the sacredness of the space that is important to be preserved, rather than the physical materials used to create that space.

Manzanar War Relocation Camp is located in eastern foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in California. Over 10,000 Japanese-Americans, including US citizens and children, were moved from their homes on the West Coast to this camp during World War II—some of the 150,000 who were moved to dozens of these camps across the country without due process, simply because of their heritage. After the war, the camp was abandoned, and the wooden shacks built for the internees were allowed to be destroyed by the elements and scavenged.

After a concerted effort in the 1960s, the National Park Service began work on creating a National Historic Site on the spot where the camp stood. In consultation with survivors of the camps, they came up with a preservation solution that works with both Japanese and Western notions of preservation. The site works to emphasize the lived experiences of the internees—to preserve the sense of the space, rather than the missing buildings. This means that a few of the buildings have been reconstructed, with period-appropriate but not original furnishings, to allow visitors to enter and look around, gaining a feeling for life in these small, minimally-furnished tarpaper shacks in the middle of the desert.

 

Detail of ID Tag Station at the Manzanar War Relocation Camp in California

ID Tag Station at the Manzanar War Relocation Camp in California

Choices made in the reconstruction point to another important concept in preservation: the idea of the period of significance. Many artifacts go through layers of use, changing form each time. Preservationists must decide what period is most important to be preserved and shown to the public. In this case, the shacks were shown at their bleakest, with holes in the walls and floor, and only a layer of wood and tarpaper separating the residents from the harsh winds that sweep the area. This was their first iteration; as winter came about nine months later, the US military provided the residents with drywall and linoleum to keep the worst of the cold out.

Preservationists in the National Park Service took a Japanese approach to presenting the site to visitors: they chose to focus on preserving the emotions created by life in the camp, rather than the camp itself. For most of their time there, the huts were better than they are displayed to visitors. However, most of the oral histories given by former residents focused on that initial period, in the tarpaper huts.

Other parts of the camp that were reconstructed were the parts that evoked the strongest emotional reactions: the toilets, which were an open line of undivided pits; the watchtower, where soldiers with machine guns and spotlights stood guard day and night; the baseball field, constructed from scrap wood and dead trees to provide a semblance of normalcy to children.

The rest of the site is left bare, except for the barbed wire fence that surrounded the entire compound, and the stone buildings, including a marker for the cemetery, which was constructed by an interned stonemason. Archaeological evidence from excavation of certain areas of the grounds, preserved through standard Western practices, contributes to interpretation indoors, as well.

This combination of Japanese and Western practices, aimed at the goal of preserving the “feeling” of a place, rather than simply the artifacts in a place, leads to a much greater understanding of the horrors of Manzanar for visitors.

MX8 Blog 4.24.17

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Khelsen üg khiisne
Bichsen üg üldene

(The spoken word flutters away, but the written word remains)

-Mongolian proverb

Will Schlaack in front of an UIUC tent that he surprising found at a sports festival in the plains of Mongolia, during his time serving in the Peace Corps.

Few Westerners outside of central Asian studies circles seem to know the name “Choibalsan” but his name resonates for many Mongolians the same way “Stalin” does in the former Soviet Union. Khorloogiin Choibalsan was the supreme ruler of the Mongolian People’s Republic from the mid-1930s to his death in 1952. During this time he led ruthless purges uprooting any form of dissent from his Stalinist vision for Mongolia. The Buddhist Sangha in Mongolia, which oversaw hundreds of years of rich Tibetan Buddhist traditions, faced particular brutality under Choibalsan’s rule. The monks and lamas (along with other various “enemies of the revolution” ranging from intellectuals and former communist lackeys who fell afoul to ethnic minorities like  Buryats and Kazakhs) were seen as a relic of an oppressive, misguided, backward past – a source of embarrassment for a country seeking to quickly join the ranks of the Stalinist vision of modernity. This period of oppression lead to the deaths of upwards of 35,000 Mongolians, a substantial number given the relatively small population of the Mongolian People’s Republic.

During these purges hundreds of monasteries were destroyed, and unfathomable volumes of precious Buddhist literature and sacred scripture were lost to the flames. The lineages and written testaments of the Sangha was broken over the course of a few years. Despite this the Central Library of Ulaanbaatar now houses over four million books, with a sizable portion of these being religious texts. Mongolians have a unique reverence for books – no bags are to be placed on the floor for fear of disrespecting or dirtying the contents, i.e. books, therein. Buddhist practitioners pass around liturgical books and press their head to them before giving it to another, as the books are seen as items of restorative power. Buddha is said to be present in these texts and they take a special place on the shelves of altars in homes and Buddhist centers across the country.

To preserve these Buddhist texts Mongolians both past and present have employed many unique means. Early means to ensure the preservation of these texts was the material they were written on – bitch bark was commonly employed for myriad of reasons: it was plentiful in many regions (especially the north), it was considered more spiritual as it was unprocessed, and therefore “clean” as opposed to traditional Chinese style paper, and it had a durability that stood up to the harsh climate and lifestyle of early Mongolians. Many Mongolians kept sacred texts in their breast pocket of the traditional coat (called a “deel”) and thus there was a significant amount of wear and tear to consider. Texts were produced on birch for centuries, with many collections now just being discovered in recent decades.

Beyond the older format of birch-bark printing Mongolians also developed unique papermaking techniques best suited for their environment:

The Mongols also developed their own technique of producing a composite paper (bolgoson tsaas) made by sticking thin pages together in order to make them suitable for writing texts with heavy ink made of precious substances such as gold, silver, and the like. They have been producing a composite paper by using the fine flour paste and juice extracted from the flower of an orchid family. Once a composite paper was produced, it was then frequently painted with oily black paint made from an animal’s raw brain, the soot of birch bark, and yellow glue.

-Vesna A. Wallace, Diverse aspects of the Mongolian Buddhist manuscript culture and realms of its influence

From: Berkwitz, Stephen C., Schober, Juliane, and Brown, Claudia, eds. Routledge Critical Studies in Buddhism : Buddhist Manuscript Cultures : Knowledge, Ritual, and Art (1). Florence, US: Routledge, 2009. ProQuest ebrary. Web. 20 April 2017.

All of this goes to show the art, ingenuity, and preservation-mindedness of Mongolian culture. Despite the subsequent near loss of the collections and knowledge of books arts modern Mongolian perseveres. While librarians at the Central State Library of Mongolia estimate that there are hundreds of thousands of texts facing preservation issues (the author can confirm: there is little in the way of HVAC or climate control systems in the Library) efforts have begun in domestic conservation laboratories to enact conservation work. In addition there has been a surge in interest of these materials and a re-discovery of their artistry and importance. The future of these texts, however remains to be seen – it is undoubtable that the conservators of Mongolia are working under vast constraints of time, money, and equipment. It is my hope that this collection receives the attention it deserves and Mongolia seen as a rich book-producing culture which created not only beautiful book art, but also developed innovative and unique solutions for early book preservation that drew from the breathtaking beauty of the region.

MX8 Blog 01.2017.3

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Amate and the Preservation of Indigenous Identity

Amate is a type of thick handmade material that is made by pressing the inner bark of ficus trees together into flat sheets. Because of its manufacturing process, amate is technically not a paper, which is made from the pulp of plant fibers that have been macerated into a pulp. However, it is an important material that is significant to early bookbinding. Archeological studies have dated the manufacture of bark paper to over 1500 years ago, with the practice originating within the pre-colonial Latin America. The Maya codices that have been preserved such as the Dresden Codex are written on amate. The use of bark paper by the Mayan civilization shows strong cultural and environmental ties. The use of ficus bark to create paper was a logical choice due to its ease of availability, its smooth surface, and its durability. Most of what was written on these early amate prints was information that was central to the culture and beliefs of the Mayans. Amate was primarily used for two purposes, as production and tribute from smaller villages, and as ritual for Mayan religious practices. Because these writings contain information with sacred and/or historical significance, the preservation of these codices, and any amate writings, is directly related to the preservation of Mayan culture.

In the years following the colonization of Latin America, the Spanish prohibited the use of bark paper by the indigenous people in part due to its use in religious ceremony. For these indigenous groups, the amate would be cut into the shape of figures and decorated for use as tribute in ceremony. Of the amate codices that have been preserved, only 16 contain writings and artwork that is from the pre-colonial period. The remaining 500 codices contain colonial bibles and other missionary writings. There has, however, been a resurgence in the creation and use of amate in the modern era. During the 1960s, two indigenous groups, the Nahua and the Otomi, began to greatly increase the production of amate and sell the paper as a handicraft for commercial purposes. This increase in production coincides with the increased recognition of indigenous Latin American groups. Both of these indigenous groups had a long tradition in the use of bark paper, with the Otomi using the amate for religious ritual purposes, and the Nahua using the amate as an artistic production. There are multiple perspectives on which group pushed began this modern resurgence, but the outcome of a new awareness for national and indigenous identity remains the same.

The production of amate can be seen here as two forms of preservation through action. In the first form, the physical papers themselves have been preserved partially due to the durability of the materials. The bark paper is thicker and somewhat more durable than later wood pulp papers, which has allowed the codices to remain in strong enough condition for later conservators to analyze and extract important information. The second form is the preservation of religion and culture. Through the reemerging practice of creating and designing amate paper works, Latin American indigenous groups have been preserving their religious practices and their traditional artwork.

Resources

Berger, Sidney. Rare Books and Special Collections. American Library Association, 2014: 80-81.

López, Citalli. The Endurance of Mexican Amate Paper: Exploring Additional Dimensions to the Sustainable Development Concept. Dissertation, University of Twente, 2003. http://doc.utwente.nl/38707/1/t0000004.pdf.

Image from: http://www.latinamericanstudies.org/dresden-codex.htm

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Contributed by Elizabeth Mayer

 

 

MX8 Blog 01.2017.02

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A Pinch of Saffron

South and southeast Asia is an area of high humidity: one of the major preservation concerns (especially in non-air-conditioned spaces) is the growth of fungus on materials. However, Hindu religious practices also serve to work against this preservation concern.

Palm-leaf religious books in this area, written in Sanskrit on thin palm leaves, are wrapped in cloth—specifically, saffron-colored cloth. The color saffron has religious significance: it is on the national flag of India to represent “renunciation:” indifference to material gains and dedication to work.

Saffron color is achieved by dyeing cloth with the saffron plant. This dye has significant properties that make it a good preservation agent. It has been proven to have significant antifungal and cytotoxic properties—one of the reasons that it has long been used in traditional medicine. Its antifungal properties can also be used to defend against fungus entering the religious texts and causing damage—a natural, locally-available and religiously-significant defense against a major problem.

Resources

Chemical constituents and bioactivities of the liposoluble fraction from different medicinal parts of Crocus sativus
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/21639689

 

  • contributed by Jon Sweitzer-Lamme

MX8 Blog 01.2017.01

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The Story Is In The Journey

Our interview with Laila Hussein Moustafa about her newly published article and her research process.

Path from Peshawar to Kabul

Laila Hussein Moustafa  is Assistant Professor of Library Administration and the Middle East and North Africa subject specialist in the International Area Studies Library at U of I. She has been conducting research around the world on disaster preparedness, especially in times of war. Her recent article in the Fall 2016 issue of RBM: A Journal of Rare Books, Manuscripts, and Cultural Heritage entitled “From Peshawar to Kabul: Preserving Afghanistan’s Cultural Heritage during Wartime” recounts the story of Nancy Dupree, a scholar who had to flee the fightings from Aghanistan and settled in the refugees camp of Peshawar, Pakhsitan,  and her efforts to help recover rare books being sold in the refugees camps of Peshawar, and relocat them to an archives in Kabul. These books were being sold by the pound by black market vendors – who were unaware of their value and occasionally used their pages to wrap food.

The miracle is that these books survive at all. Besides looting many books were moved by refugees themselves when they fled their homes. These were family heirlooms that were brought along for safekeeping, only to have been sold in the black market when their owners became destitute and had to sell anything they could. The trouble in researching this process is that there is no documentation on how they were moved from their original locations in the first place. Laila intends to continue her research to discover the mysterious journey of books salvaged from the ravages of war.

As the Mushiboshi Project is preparing to conduct peers interviews, we asked Laila how she manages to find information from so many people around the world. Laila prefers to meet people face to face. She travels to different conferences and takes the opportunity to conduct interviews in person. It is helpful that she can speak the different languages of her fellow colleagues in her areas of study: Arabic, Persian, and Turkish & French. She will sometimes send a bilingual message to her new contacts, to give them the option to reply in the language of their choice.

Laila is very aware that as a result of colonization, there is a culture of skepticism and suspicion among her interview subjects that a Western scholar will come and take away information and leave nothing in return. So she is very careful to cultivate a sense of trust and reciprocity. In this way she has grown her network of research support. She forwards information that she finds relevant to them and helps find and write grants to aid their work. For example, Laila encourages her international colleagues to apply to funding from the British Library’s Endangered Archives Programme, of which she is a Board member. This is a shared digitization program which awards equipment & training to increase the local capabilities to digitize and preserve the originals. The original and the master digital copy stay at home, minimizing the fear of damage, loss or theft that other shared digitization programs have experienced.  The British Library acquires a copy for its repository as part of the agreement.

No matter what language is spoken, Laila tries to avoid using professional jargon when asking questions about preservation. Sometimes a lot of the terminology used in the West has not translation in other languages. Instead she uses plain speech or simple open ended questions like: How do you keep and use you books? As she explains, above all when you are conducting your research, you can learn more when you visit if you talk less and listen & observe more.

Resources:

“Endangered Archives Programme: Grants.” 2017. Accessed January 20. http://eap.bl.uk/pages/grants.html.

Moustafa, Laila Hussein. 2016. “From Peshawar to Kabul: Preserving Afghanistan’s Cultural Heritage during Wartime.” RBM: A Journal of Rare Books, Manuscripts and Cultural Heritage 17 (2): 134–47. http://rbm.acrl.org/content/17/2/134.