ID: P06090. 1952, Apr.12. US 89A. Sedona, AZ. Retrieved from: http://www.dlib.indiana.edu/collections/cushman/

In President Obama’s State of the Union address, he called for the revival of American industry and the maintenance of a tattered transportation infrastructure. Middle-class factory jobs are a part of America’s past. Massive production outsourcing for cost efficiency has led to a service based economy. While America won’t be exhuming the steel or coal industry, the production of new technology is the future. America will never stop being co-dependent on the automobile (oh, how I miss my Volvo wagon and my first Toyota Celica). Our nation’s favorite means of transportation has been putting wear and tear on a neglected system of bridges, roads, highways. Meaning, middle-class job opportunities abound. As I often romanticize America in a 1940s-1950s lens, Obama inspired me to revisit the Charles W. Cushman Photography Collection.

ID: P07245. Long-Bell Lumber Co. at Weed, CA, near Mt. Shasta. 1954 Aug. 20. Weed, CA. Retrieved from: http://www.dlib.indiana.edu/collections/cushman/

ID: P07089. Monolith Portland Cement Co. Mill in Tehachapi Mtns. 1953. Nov. 23. Monolith, CA. Retrieved from: http://www.dlib.indiana.edu/collections/cushman/

ID: P01688. 1939 Nov. 29. [Cushman]. From Yavapai Point View. AZ. Retrieved from: http://www.dlib.indiana.edu/collections/cushman/

ID: P01859. 1940 Jun. 20. California’s Hills along Morro bay – Atascadero Road. Retrieved from: http://www.dlib.indiana.edu/collections/cushman/

ID: P01525. 1938 Nov. Tall corn in the Wabash bottoms. Posey, IN. Retrieved from: http://www.dlib.indiana.edu/collections/cushman/

As Cushman traveled by car on the infant US highways of yore, he captured America at work. Since Cushman was a journalist covering Depression-era American industry, his photographs also reflect this.  He captured industries long since exasperated. Steel, ore and copper mining which once fed looming factories encased in entangled metal masses topped with pluming smoke stacks. Although still pervasive in America’s vistas, agriculture used to be rustic and personal; the land toiled by hand and animal. While the industrial pollution is not to be revived, even the toxins appear dreamy in Cushman’s photos.

ID: P10343. 1958 Nov. 20. South Works – Carnegie Illinois Steel Corp. South Chicago, IL. Retrieved from: http://www.dlib.indiana.edu/collections/cushman/

ID: P09289. 1957 May 14. Slanting sandstone rocks along AT & SF in Cajon Canyon, CA. Retrieved from: http://www.dlib.indiana.edu/collections/cushman/

ID: P09715. 1958 Apr. 1. C & H sugar refinery Crockett, CA. Retrieved from: http://www.dlib.indiana.edu/collections/cushman/

On your next road-trip, look for Cushman’s America. It’s still here. Sometimes rusted, dilapidated, and abandoned, still chugging along, or possibly improved with new technology. Otherwise, take an American Kodachrome journey in the archive: THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND.

ID: P07254. 1954 Aug. 21. . Shasta seen from McCloud Lumber Co. Mill at McCloud, CA. Retrieved from: http://www.dlib.indiana.edu/collections/cushman/

The Royal Air Force in Rome, Italy. 1944. Courtesy of:  http://www.iwm.org.uk/

My paternal grandfather, Rudolph Wittmann, (not pictured to the left, but he looked similar to this) was gone long before I arrived, having survived WWII only to meet his fate on an icy Nebraska highway in the 1960s. While I don’t know much about him, I’ve always imagined him in a military setting and wearing a shade of olive-green. I suppose this is because we are mostly acquainted via left-behind memorabilia from his service as a Navigator-Bombardier in the Army Air Forces (461st Bombardment Group) during World War II. The tokens of a solider: faded photographs, dog tags, medals in a cedar box, and a German pistol have been the tangible memories connecting me to my grandfather. Stationed in Italy, he navigated the hefty B-24 Liberator through the Alps, typically at night, to drop both explosives and men behind enemy lines. This post contains many Royal Air Force images, none are my relations but evoke my visual empathy. The 16mm film [above] is comprised of 17 sequences taken from a camera-gun, resulting in a dreamy stream of areal, disorienting vantage points, mixed with heavy artillery. The film was created in 1944 by the United States Bureau of Aeronautics, audio of Grouper’s Moon Is Sharp was added in August, 2012 (ahem, my tampering).

Jobson, Into Action (lithograph) 1942. Courtesy of IWM, retrieved from: http://media.iwm.org.uk/

Through my familial affiliation, along with a cataclysmic period of history, I’ve always had an interest in the Second World War. This intrigue lured me to visit a museum dedicated largely to WWII while visiting England: the Imperial War Museum (IWM). Don’t be mislead, the IWM is not just a massive building in south London full of tanks, airplanes, and weaponry of every variety. Aside from documenting Britain’s involvement in warfare, starting with the First World War through present conflicts, IWM conveys the personal side of life during wartime through its thoughtfully curated exhibits and onsite research facilities. A trip to London isn’t necessary, the IWM online catalog contains 600,000 items; 90,000 are digitized material , including: photographs (the Ministry of Information Second World War Colour Transparency Collection is a personal favorite), film, art (for a quick panning of high-caliber artwork the IMW collection on Google Art Project is a good introduction), posters (including many poignantly beautiful to bizarre WWII posters), and private correspondence. The selected WWII material displayed here will in no way reflect the countless viewing hours I spent getting lost in the IWM’s digital collections, my only wish is for advanced search query capabilities.

Not only were aircrafts and bombardiers used in WWII warfare, another heroic flying team was employed: carrier pigeons. If these photographs of the feathered messengers don’t pique your interest enough, listen to the Radiolab episode Birds-Eye-View. Although the birds’ infamous homing abilities are still researched and disputed today, there is a theory that their intense desire and ability to fly home might have been to fend off suitors from their monogamous, lady pigeon partners. Perhaps these guys had more in common with their fowl cohorts than they ever imagined.

The Royal Air Force Britain, 1942. (Photograph). Courtesy of Imperial War Museum, retrieved from: img.org.uk

The Eight Army Carrier Pigeon Service in Italy. 1944, November. (Photograph). Courtesy of IWM, retrieved from: http://www.iwm.org.uk/

Not to worry, no dandies were harmed in the RAF.

At a Royal Air Force Fighter station in Britain, November 1942. (Photograph) Courtesy of Imperial War Museum, retrieved from: http://www.iwm.org.uk/

The Carina Nebula: Star Birth in the Extreme. Courtesy of NASA, retrieved from: http://www.nasaimages.org

Afro-jazz-experimental-extraterrestrial musical group Sun Ra proclaimed Space is the Place in their 1970′s cult classic film. Although we might be able to elevate our minds to a cosmic state of being, it is unlikely we will get a real journey to outer space. Thanks to the geniuses at NASA, we can travel through deep space through hundreds of thousands of images, video, and audio collected over the history of space exploration. NASA Images  was created by NASA and the Internet Archive to display an in-depth digital archive with the mission of education and encouragement of interest in space exploration, aeronautics, and astronomy. Hosted by  the digital asset management system LUNA, which specializes in massive repositories and allows for some clever searching bells and whistles. Exporting images at various resolutions, creating presentations, advanced search and browse-ablity of categories based on object, expedition, and era make NASA Images’ mission successful.

The international space age obsession might have ended, but looking at heavenly images galaxies, planets, and stars it is easy to slip back under the intergalactic spell. With the recent astrological eclipses, radiant moons, and today’s transit of Venus across the Sun,the cosmos could be pulling some attention seeking stunts. Let’s give them what they are asking for.

Triple eclipse [Jupiter]. Courtesy of NASA, retrieved from: http://www.nasaimages.org

A Picturesque Venus Transit [Sun]. Courtesy of NASA, retrieved from: http://www.nasaimages.org

Giant Twisters and Star Wisps in the Lagoon Nebula. Courtesy of NASA, retrieved from: http://www.nasaimages.org

Happy Face Crater Mars. Courtesy of NASA, retrieved from: http://www.nasaimages.org

Frank, J. (Photographer).(1957). Image 26019. Retrieved from: http://www.nycsubway.org

Having wrapped up another semester, one of my final class projects came near and dear to my heart. We were given the assignment to create short podcasts using E.B. White’s Here is New York as inspiration, resulting in a collection of miNY Stories pertaining to New York in 1949. At this time, the last of Manhattan’s now extinct elevated trains was still standing…but not for long. While creating the podcast The Third Avenue El: Noise-talgia, the longstanding admiration for the above ground transportation system that once loomed above the avenues of Manhattan became apparent. The Third Avenue El being the most adored and romanticized of rides.

A focal piece of research was Sunny Statler’s article “Farewell to the El: Nostalgic Urban Visuality on the Third Avenue Elevated Train” (2006), Statler explores the unique experience of riding on the El. This commute not only induced straphangers to daydreaming, but also gave inspiration for artists alike.  Works such as Gnir Rednow, the collaborative film between Joseph Cornell and Stan Brakhage, depict the Third Avenue El in a dream-like sequence of reverse frames, reflections, and shadows. A trip on the Third Avenue El allowed riders to view the city in an intimate way; glimpsing into the private sanctuary of apartment life, catching the aroma kitchen concoctions, and all the daily chores and pastimes of compact Manhattan life. Statler eloquently explains how the El encouraged the imagination of its passengers:

“The embodied connection to city space should not suggest that El riders experienced a more real version of the city than subway riders did – it was a wholly different one. Subway car views alternated between dark tunnels and stations distinguishable only by name; lone riders retreated into internal fantasy through reading, daydreaming or dozing. El passengers, on the other hand experienced fantasies that were directed outward into external city space. Technologies of transportation reinforce urban subjectivity by literalizing views of the city: moving underground, New York became a space of invisibility and isolation; moving above ground and in close proximity to city life opened up otherwise invisible space to fantasies of communion.” (p. 872)

The Coenties Slip Curve. (1946) Image 114437. Retrieved from:http://www.nycsubway.org

Being in the School of Information and Library Science, the focus of our assignment was research and the use of collections as resources. While the New York Transit Museum and NYPL Digital Gallery fueled El imagery, this post is dedicated to the website NYCSubway.org.  Ran by enthusiasts and volunteers, NYCSubway.org is an extensive and comprehensive digital archive for all eras of New York City transportation.  The endless pages of photos of train cars, stations, tracks, and maps sends the heart of the little boy fascinated with trains inside all of us into a flutter. The Third Avenue El has a collection of 770 images alone. Audio of the rumble that was ultimately the El’s demise, was taken from the below film hosted on the Prelinger Archives. Sometimes, noise pollution can be sorely missed.

Stratler, S. (2006) Farewell to the El: Nostalgic urban visuality on the third Avenue elevated train. American Quarterly. 58(3). 869-890. Retrieved from: http://www.jstor.org/

While roaming through this archive, it is apparent how women have been the prime target of consumerism from the beginning. Women are often seen as the decision makers for household goods and known to spend a lot to look good. Preying on ladies’ insecurities has long been a part of marketing campaigns. Featured here are a selection of some of the more far-fetched strategies.  [Above] Three kids sure take a toll on mom’s hairdo. At Once Stretch Wig will give such effortless perfect locks to bed head moms, they will be inspired to twirl through the grocery store. [Below] Kotex’s “Confessions of a Private Secretary” appeal to those who are slaves to the buzzer and must look good while abstaining from selfishly fretting. Odors must be the culprit behind the single dame. Mouthwash and soap seem to deliver the more cruel messages: if you’re stinky you’ll never be loved. Body odor of the glamorous lounge ladies, heiresses with looks and money, and charming socialites alike will repel everyone, including suitors. And ladies, you can just forget about ever getting married if you have bad breath.

Kotex Company. 1939. Motion Picture Magazine. Ad*Access Collection Courtesy of Duke University Libraries’ Digital Collections, obtained from: http://library.duke.edu/digitalcollection

Palmolive Soap. 1937. Good Housekeeping Magazine. Ad*Access Collection Courtesy of Duke University Libraries’ Digital Collections, obtained from: http://library.duke.edu/digitalcollection

Listerine Mouth Wash. 1937. Unknown Magazine. Ad*Access Collection Courtesy of Duke University Libraries’ Digital Collections, obtained from: http://library.duke.edu/digitalcollection

The African Activist Archive, which is part of the Africa Online Digital Library supported by Michigan State University, documents the activism in support of African people.  Voices united around the world in the support of the end of colonialism, apartheid in South Africa, and social injustice during the 1950s-1990s. While the African Activist Archive includes documents, oral histories, photographs, video, and posters, documenting this international support, it also hosts a mesmerizing ephemera collection of buttons and t-shirts.  Most of these wear-ables call for the end of apartheid in South Africa and the boycott of Afrikaner led companies. Although it took much time and international advocacy, apartheid officially ended in 1994. Never underestimate the power of a t-shirt, our bodies can be billboards for political change.

Buttons.

1982. Opland. Courtesy of African Activist Archive, obtained from: http://africanactivist.msu.edu	1980s. Button. Courtesy of African Activist Archive, obtained from: http://africanactivist.msu.edu
Courtesy of African Activist Archive, obtained from: http://africanactivist.msu.edu	1980s Button by Coke Boycott Campaign Atlanta, Georgia, United States.

T-Shirts.

Viva the women of South Africa. 1980s. T-shirt. Courtesy of African Activist Archive, obtained from: http://africanactivist.msu.edu

Isolate apartheid, support the front line states! 1980s. T-shirt. Courtesy of African Activist Archive, obtained from: http://africanactivist.msu.edu

Moses Soyer letter to David Soyer, ca. 1940. Courtesy of Smithsonian’s Archives of American Art, obtained from: http://www.aaa.si.edu/

Dorothea Tanning to Joseph Cornell, Mar. 3, 1948. Courtesy of Smithsonian’s Archives of American Art, obtained from: http://www.aaa.si.edu

The Smithsonian’s Archives of American Art (AAA) is dedicated to gathering and preserving papers and primary records of the visual arts in America. It is the world’s largest and most used resource of its kind, with over 16 million items in its collections and growing. The AAA hosts over 110 fully digitized artist collections and extensive oral histories of American artists in the last 200 years. The essential components to an artist’s archive are typically correspondence, diaries, sketchbooks, photographs, printed materials, film and audio recordings. From browsing the AAA’s holdings, I became captivated with the art of correspondence documented within its collections.

From handwritten notes to carefully selected paper punched with typewriter keys, correspondence on paper is a dying form of communication. Our world has been overtaken by fleeting emails and texts consisting of impersonal and uniform fonts, whereas penmanship connects the style and form of written words to a person. Artists especially know how to craft correspondence to include creative visual expression for an even more enriched, clever message.  This has been captured in the exhibits A Thousand Kisses: Love Letters from the Archives of American Art and  More Than Words: Illustrated Letters from the Smithsonian’s Archives of American Art.

Another discovery within the AAA, was my fondness for Ray Johnson (1927-1995), painter, collagist, and correspondence artist. While Johnson’s collection is not completely digitized on the AAA site, his work can be seen in others’ collections, including correspondence, art, and articles on his death. Called his “performance art death”, Johnson committed suicide by jumping off a bridge in Sag Harbor, Long Island and was seen backstroking into oblivion. His dark humor and playfulness are pervasive in his art of correspondence. A transcribed interview with Johnson from 1968 sheds more light on his character. From the start, the interviewer begins to ask factual questions in order to establish dates and locations to Johnson’s life. Johnson finds this boring and rightfully becomes difficult while making accusations of a question-and-answer dictated conversation. When the interviewer asks Johnson when he came to New York, Johnson replies with “I’m inclined to think I’m not here.” Quickly after this head-butting of sorts, there is a pause in the interview. Despite this initial sparing, there is a lengthy dialogue that follows.

Ray Johnson letter to Lucy R. Lippard, 1969 May 3. Courtesy of Smithsonian’s Archives of American Art, obtained from: http://www.aaa.si.edu/

Ray Johnson mail art to Lucy R. Lippard, 1965 June 29. Courtesy of Smithsonian’s Archives of American Art, obtained from: http://www.aaa.si.edu/

With both the beauty of correspondence, and my lack of personal communication on paper, I am compelled to turn more to the pen, rather than the keyboard, when reaching out in 2012.  If nothing else, my archive is lacking in this essential category.

The tune, You Got to Take Sick and Die sung by Boyd Rivers, is like a cold stare from fate’s steely face.  Its soulful jeers are a reminder that nobody escapes judgment day.  Just as time will inevitably run out for all, with altruistic deeds comes immortality. An exemplary case of this is the tireless and benevolent toil of Alan Lomax (1915 – 2002) which has earned his life’s work eternal existence here on earth.

Alan Lomax was the world’s leading folklorist and ethnomusicologist, spending his life capturing the sounds, images and video of our collective “intangible heritage.”  At the age of 18 Alan partnered with his father, John Avery Lomax, to document Texan folk music from the prisons, churches, and fields of rural communities for the Library of Congress.  This project was also part of the foundation of the Library of Congress American Folklife Center.

Alan Lomax continued to travel the world documenting folk music for as long as he was able, amassing an archive containing 60 years of his work.  Perhaps most notable of his work was of the American South, ranging from blues and gospel to bluegrass and Appalachian singsong.

Alan founded the Association for Cultural Equity (ACE) in 1983 to archive his audio recordings, photographs, videos.  The ACE hosts a research center including a fascinating comprehensive multimedia archive, lesson plans, interviews and discussions, and much more.

Schoolgirls playing ring game. June 25 1965. La Paine, St. Patrick, Dominica. Courtesy of the ACE, obtained from: http://research.culturalequity.org/

Dancing the fandango. August 19 1952.Zeanuri, Pais Vasco, Spain. Courtesy of the ACE, obtained from: http://research.culturalequity.org/

Mexican girls, San Antonio, TX. April 1934. Courtesy of the Library of Congress, obtained from: http://www.loc.gov/pictures/collection/lomax/

Huddie Ledbetter (Leadbelly) and Martha Promise Ledbetter, Wilton, Conn. February 1935. Courtesy of the Library of Congress, obtained from: http://www.loc.gov/pictures/collection/lomax/

Mountain woman in the hills near Austin, Texas. Between 1934 – 1950. Courtesy of the Library of Congress, obtained from: http://www.loc.gov/pictures/collection/lomax/

As a man who understood so much about the essence of mankind, from our joyous exaltation to our heavy-hearted bellows, I’m not sure we understood nearly as much about him.  Various accounts reported Alan Lomax as a southern gentleman with a larger than life force of enthusiasm, although his personal life is somewhat mysterious. Lomax was rightfully deemed a national treasure for his lifelong passion for preserving folk culture. Get to know him better through the Association for Cultural Equity and LOC American Folklife Center.