Tag: material culture

  • An African slave trading commodity washed up off the Isle of Wight

    An African slave trading commodity washed up off the Isle of Wight

    Many of our UoP history students take the opportunity to do voluntary work in one of the many museums in Portsmouth or nearby.  Second-year UoP History Isobel Turtle started volunteering even earlier.  Having decided to defer her university entry,  she started working at the Isle of Wight shipwreck centre in 2021.  It’s given her lots of unique opportunities to learn how a museum works: highlights have included seeing how a museum becomes accredited by the Arts Council, how grants and funding are secured and used, how exhibitions are created from scratch, working on databasing the collection, helping with visiting school groups and managing volunteers. She has worked her way up to being the Museum Supervisor, ready for when the museum moves to larger premises over the next year or two! 

    For the second year module, The Hidden Lives of Things, taught by Dr Katy Gibbons and Dr Mary Cannon, for their assessment, students have to produce an ‘object biography’ for a historical artefact.  Isobel was really glad to be able to use the museum and her access to it to write an object biography of one of the most poignant artefacts in the collection: manillas, a form of commodity money in the form of bracelet used across West Africa and associated with the slave trade, which washed up in a shipwreck off the Island.

    Peter DeWint (1784 - 1849), Shipwreck off the Needles, Isle of Wight, watercolour, Yale Centre for British Art
    Peter DeWint (1784 – 1849), Shipwreck off the Needles, Isle of Wight, watercolour, Yale Centre for British Art

    ‘Manillas’ were a form of commodity money used across West Africa and are today most known for their associations with the transatlantic slave trade, however before becoming synonymous with it as well as after, manillas took on many different roles in a variety of contexts. The etymology of the word manilla suggests the term was picked up via interactions with the Portuguese and refers to their distinctive bracelet-like horseshoe shape.[1] Manillas are found in multiple variations of materials such as brass, bronze, copper as well as in different sizes, weights, and levels of embellishment based on their region of origin as well as their intended value and usage.[2] Accounts note the functionality of the shape of manillas, describing how indigenous West Africans would wear and carry them on their arms on their way to make smaller, everyday purchases but would otherwise be put into parcels if the size, weight or quantity of manillas called for it.[3]  These 3 manillas appear to be of the ‘popo’ subtype due to their small size, smoothed, tapered ends and lack of decorative elements. This type was in use from the 17th to the early 20th century and was most commonly connected to French, English and Dutch traders.[4] Found in Chale Bay off the Southwest coast of the Isle of Wight, these manillas are held in Island’s Shipwreck Centre & Maritime Museum. The exact circumstances of how these particular manillas came to be in Chale Bay awaits further examination, but the 3-mile-long stretch of coastline itself is known for its vast array of shipwrecks. Initial but as yet unconfirmed opinions on the age of the wreck, clues such as the discovery of ivory tusks nearby as well as comparable ‘popo’ style manillas found on a confirmed 17th century Royal African Company shipwreck also in the English Channel suggest that the wreckage in which these manillas were found had links to West Africa during the era of the Transatlantic slave trade. [5]

    Manillas found off the Isle of Wight Coast, Martin Woodward Collection, Shipwreck Centre & Maritime Museum
    Manillas Manillas found off the Isle of Wight Coast, Martin Woodward Collection, Shipwreck Centre & Maritime Museum, photograph taken by Isobel.

    In their extended history, the term ‘manilla’ encompassed a broad range of bracelet-shaped metal rings which were used across West Africa for adornment in addition to functioning as money for a multitude of trade purposes. Despite this, historian Eugenia W. Herbert argues that African metal rings often do not conform to the ‘Western definition of fine art’, leading to a near total disregard for this use from Europeans. [6]  Although their ubiquitousness in West Africa suggests manillas had probably been used for a very long time there, the European use of manillas as a commodity existed predominantly in relation to slave trading by the 18th century, making it all the more likely that these specific manillas ended up in shipwreck in Europe as a result of it. [7]

    Illustration from Burgkmair, Natives of Guinea and Algoa, 1508 showing Africans wearing manillas.
    Illustration from Burgkmair, Natives of Guinea and Algoa, 1508 showing Africans wearing manillas.

    From the 16th century onwards manillas became the principal currency of the slave trade with the prices of slaves expressed in terms of different types of manillas. By its peak, factories in Birmingham and Bristol were mass producing manillas for use exclusively in the slave trade, resulting in an erasure and overshadowing of the long and complex history in African custom. [8] This mass production further shows how interlinked wealth-building and the development of industrialisation in England was with the slave trade, and by extension its dependency on the economic crippling and cultural pilfering of West Africa. [9] While the use of manillas outlived the transatlantic slave trade, they continued to be used by Europeans mainly in colonial contexts throughout the 19th century, most notably in relation to the palm oil trade.[10] While their circulation was prohibited in the early 20th century, the use of manillas among indigenous populations, particularly in Nigeria or the so called ‘manilla belt’ where the palm oil trade was focused, continued in line with tradition and existed concurrently with the currencies of colonial powers.[11] This practice largely came to an abrupt and forced end 1949 when the Manilla Prohibition Ordnance was launched under British rule in the ‘manilla belt’, taking them out of circulation and making possession of a certain amount of manillas a punishable offence.[12] Over 32 million individual manillas weighing 2,464 tons were recalled and sold for scrap, with historian Eugenia W. Herbert noting the difficulty in knowing ‘what became of it all.’ [13] This process is argued to have been the final step toward full colonial control over the economy in this part of West Africa.[14]

    A 16th century Benin Bronze depicting a Portuguese soldier with manillas in the background.
    A 16th century Benin Bronze depicting a Portuguese soldier with manillas in the background.

    Manillas have long posed a methodological challenge to historians due to their visual and material variability as well as the difficulty in properly defining what fits into the category.[15] Due to this, careful consideration must be given to their individual materiality as well as the spatial context in which they are found in order to uncover their origins and stories. Additional help to pinpoint this is supplied through interdisciplinary research combining historical research with techniques like geochemical analysis, a practice which has resulted in definitive proof that the Benin bronzes are made of metals yielded from the melting down of manillas.[16] Considering the history of manillas, the historiography surrounding the subject of one of, if not the most, contentious issues concerning the present-day legacy of colonial violence and cultural theft is therefore made even more poignant.[17]

    Furthermore, this analysis provides evidence of the melting down and reuse of manillas even prior to the majority of existing examples being sold for scrap, showing how the material through which people were bought and sold, and therefore one of the most harrowing legacies of human cruelty in history, lives on in culturally significant artworks as well as in an untold number of seemingly innocuous and everyday objects. These manillas however, continue to exist in their namesake form and are both an example of the violent legacy of the colonial process and a preservation of a West African tradition which was stamped out through it.

    [1] Paul Einzig, Primitive Money: In Its Ethnological, Historical and Economic Aspects (Elsevier, 2014).

    [2] Eugenia W. Herbert, Red Gold of Africa: Copper in Precolonial History and Culture (University of Wisconsin Press, 1984), 202.

    [3] Herbert, Red Gold of Africa, 203.

    [4] Tobias B. Skowronek et al., “German Brass for Benin Bronzes: Geochemical Analysis Insights into the Early Atlantic Trade,” Plos One, 18, no. 4 (April 5, 2023).

    [5] Skowronek et al.

    [6] Herbert, Red Gold of Africa, 203, 210.

    [7] Beat Kümin, The European World 1500-1800: An Introduction to Early Modern History (Milton: Taylor & Francis Group, 2017), 64.

    [8] “A brass manilla from West Africa,” accessed March 14, 2024, https://www.ashmolean.org/article/brass-manilla-west-africa.

    [9] Frederick Cooper, Colonialism in Question: Theory, Knowledge, History (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005), 98.

    [10] Herbert, Red Gold of Africa, 203.

    [11] Rolf Denk, The West African Manilla Currency: Research and Securing of Evidence from 1439-2019 (Tredition, 2021). Ben Naanen, “Economy within an Economy: The Manilla Currency, Exchange Rate Instability and Social Conditions in South-Eastern Nigeria, 1900-48,” The Journal of African History 34, no. 3 (1993): 446.

    [12] Naanen, “Economy within an Economy,” 445.

    [13] Naanen, “Economy within an Economy,” 445. Herbert, Red Gold of Africa, 182.

    [14] Naanen, “Economy within an Economy,” 445.

    [15] Denk, The West African Manilla Currency.

    [16] Skowronek et al., “German Brass for Benin Bronzes.”

    [17] Dan Hicks, The Brutish Museums: The Benin Bronzes, Colonial Violence and Cultural Restitution (London: Pluto Press, 2020), 219.

  • Communal music on board the Mary Rose: the significance and after-life of a shawm

    Communal music on board the Mary Rose: the significance and after-life of a shawm

    For the second year module, The Hidden Lives of Things, taught by Dr Katy Gibbons and Dr Mary Cannon, for their assessment, students have to produce an ‘object biography’ for a historical artefact.  Francesca Raine chose to look at one of the ten surviving musical instruments found on the Mary Rose and what it can tell us about how sixteen-century people experienced and enjoyed music.

    Photograph of Shawm/Doucaine found on the upper deck of the Mary Rose, Francesca Raine, as seen in the Mary Rose Museum.
    Photograph of Shawm/Doucaine found on the upper deck of the Mary Rose, Francesca Raine.

     

     

    In 1545 the Mary Rose, a Tudor carrack, sank during a confrontation with the French fleet in Portsmouth.[1] The unusual underwater conditions preserved a unique snapshot of everyday Tudor life, revealed in the 20th century, despite earlier excavation attempts in 1545 and 1836-1840.[2]

    Among the artefacts recovered in the 1970’s were ten musical instruments, the first being a shawm, also known as a doucaine, a double-reeded instrument which is the ancestor of the oboe.[3] The shawm was found on the upper deck of the ship, dismantled inside a fragmentary wooden case.[4] Traditionally, historians have neglected the value offered by such examples of material culture, preferring written sources as the ‘blood’ for early modern history.[5] Using Harvey’s three-step method, this essay will unpick and evaluate the layers of significance offered by the shawm, in early modern and more recent contexts, leading to new interpretations, understandings and narratives.[6]

    Harvey prioritises the description of an object as the first step of analysis.[7] The components are made from complimentary boxwood and cherry wood, with a complete cylindrical, brass interior.[8] Despite the lack of a flared bell the instrument is remarkably intact, unlike its counterparts such as the tabor. To an extent the position of the shawm within a case, accounts for the quality of the condition, as it would have protected the object during the sinking and provided another layer of shelter underwater. However, it also implies it was an appreciated possession. There are little traces of damage for an item made to be exercised regularly. Evidence of a case shows consideration was taken to store the instrument when it was not used, reflecting the personal value placed on the object. The design is also useful for indicating a level of care during the production as well as the consumption. Mixing a dark and light wood adds a decorative element, an unnecessary touch by the creator. This suggests there is an aspect of pride and attentiveness undertaken during manufacture. No makers are imprinted, consequently limiting our understanding of how this instrument came on board or who made it. However, the shawm does significantly reveal unique emotive understandings that can be communicated through the physical and visual dimensions written sources may not provide.

    Engraving of musicians at a wedding, by German artist Sebald Beham, 1537
    Engraving of musicians at a wedding, by German artist Sebald Beham, 1537

    During the Tudor period, music was a prominent feature of society well documented in non-musical sources such as administrative records; yet historical texts have filtered music into the ‘briefest mention’.[9] The discovery of the shawm has provided insights into this neglected area through experimental archaeology. Playing of a replica reveals a strong bass sound was produced due to the cylindrical bore and that it required a finger stretch ‘not comfortable to achieve’.[10] This is useful for understanding how the shawm was played and sounded, and that there was a competent skill level required, implying the owner was an experienced musician. Prior to the discovery, historical knowledge on this instrument was dependent on visual and written means. Tinctorius for example, described that doucaines had the range of a ninth, yet the Mary Rose reproduction shows that they covered an octave.[11] This finding is significant because it changes historical understandings and develops the history the shawm.[12] Furthermore, Blockley notes that replications engage with different senses, therefore the shawm provides a unique auditory and tactile dimension.[13] These distinctive characteristics offer a closer understanding to human behaviours, in this example musical ability and expressions of creativity in Tudor England.

    Pinturicchio, detail from The Coronation of Pope Pius III, Piccolomini Library, Duomo, Siena (1509)
    Pinturicchio, detail from The Coronation of Pope Pius III, Piccolomini Library, Duomo, Siena (1509)

    Riello highlights the importance of an interdisciplinary approach when analysing artefacts.[14] This methodology is valuable to understanding the significance of instruments on board and the role they played. A Dutch painting shows a shawm, tabor and pipe used in conjunction to produce music.[15] This introduces the prospect that that there may have been a band on board, however, it should be noted this underlines potential uses only. This is significant as it infers music was an organised event, used for strengthening social bonds and promoting leisure. This dispels narratives that everyday Tudor life had little time for entertainment. Demonstrated here, the shawm has brought musical, scientific and historical disciplines together to expand historical knowledge.

    Many objects on the upper deck did not survive which proved frustrating and troublesome for historians because free time and living arrangements would have been organised there.[16] Consequently, the presence of this instrument is significant because it provides a rare insight into ship life that were otherwise unobtainable. The location also reveals that leisure was not kept to strict social boundaries and was shared in communal areas. This shows that society wasn notas highly regulated as often portrayed. Consequently, the shawm is valuable for understanding expressions of leisure outside the elite Tudor classes.  Although it cannot tell us about responses to music or what songs were played it does successfully answer gaps in recreational history.

    It is important to study the life of an object because this can reveal different ‘contexts, functions and associations’.[17] Following the shawm’s discovery, it went under a lengthy and complicated conservation process (involving chemical baths, vacuuming, freeze-drying), suggesting there was an initial significance recognised to protect it.[18] It now resides in the Mary Rose Museum on display. Museums provide a multitude of services, from preservation and collection to interpretation and education.[19] The has a new dual purpose; to serve archaeological and historical needs whilst balancing public requirements. The public rely on museums for discovery and to experience emotive connections to history, whereas historians utilise the space for reinterpreting the relevance of Tudor history in the present, tracing the shawm’s ongoing significance and legacy. As with any source, historians need to be wary of bias, however when studying the shawm’s current location they should also consider the influence of stakeholders such as trustees and sponsors influencing the object’s display. Consequently, the modern context poses risks to distortion or misrepresentation, through balancing these non-academic and academic needs. Studying the chronological life cycle of this object is valuable for reflecting different societal needs and functions in the sixteenth and twentieth centuries. It demonstrates how objects can be repurposed and in turn need to be re-contextualised to continue understanding the historical and socio-cultural significances.

    The shawm’s significance for revealing early modern human experience and contemporary values cannot be underestimated through its ability to answer gaps in historians’ knowledge. It uniquely manages to capture a cross-study analysis of everyday Tudor life, revealing socio-cultural and historical significances. Additionally, studying the biography of the shawm has revealed a longer and more intricate history.

    For another post by Francesca, on Henry VIII’s navy, click here

    [1] Mary Anne Alburger, “The ‘fydill in fist’: Bowed instruments from the Mary Rose”, The Galpin Society Journal, vol. 53, (2000): 12.

    [2] Mary Anne Alburger, “The ‘fydill in fist’: Bowed instruments from the Mary Rose”, 12.

    [3] Julie Gardiner, “The “Good Shippe” Mary Rose: An Introduction”, in Before the Mast: Life and Death on Board the Mary Rose, edited by Julie Gardiner, (Portsmouth: The Mary Rose Trust Ltd., 2005), 12; Frances Palmer, “Musical Instruments from the Mary Rose: A report on work in progress”, Early Music, vol. 11, 1, (1983): 54.

    [4] Jeremy Montagu, “Dance and Skylark: Musical Instruments”, in Before the Mast: Life and Death on Board the Mary Rose, edited by Julie Gardiner, 226-249, (Portsmouth: The Mary Rose Trust Ltd., 2005), 236.

    [5] Laura Sangha and Jonathan Willis, “Introduction: Understanding early modern primary sources”, in Understanding Early Modern Primary Sources, edited by Laura Sangha and Jonathan Willis, 1-14, (London: Taylor & Francis Group, 2016), 1.

    [6] Karen Havey, “Introduction: Practical Matters’, in History and Material Culture: A Student’s Guide to Approaching Alternative Sources, edited by Karen Harvey, 1-23, (London: Taylor & Francis Group, 2013), 15.

    [7] Karen Havey, “Introduction: Practical Matters’, 15.

    [8] Jeremy Montagu, “Dance and Skylark: Musical Instruments”,236-237.

    [9]John Milsom, “Music, Politics and Society”, in A Companion to Tudor Britain, edited by and Norman L. Jones and Robert Tittler, 492-508, (Williston: John Wiley & Sons, 2004), 494; Burton W. Peretti, “Music: The Composed Sound”, in History Beyond the Text: A Students Guide to Approaching Alternative Sources, edited by Sarah Barber and Corinna Peniston-Bird, 89-104, (Milton: Taylor & Francis Group, 2008), 89.

    [10] Jeremy Montagu, “Dance and Skylark: Musical Instruments”, 239-240.

    [11] Jeremy Montagu, “Dance and Skylark: Musical Instruments”, 240.

    [12] Georgio Riello, “Things that shape history: Material culture and historical narratives”, in History and Material Culture: A Student’s Guide to Approaching Alternative Sources, edited by Karen Harvey, 24-46, (London: Taylor & Francis Group, 2013), 25.

    [13] Marion Blockley, “Archaeological Reconstructions and the Community in the UK”, in The Constructed Past: Experimental Archaeology, Education and the Public, edited by Philippe Panel and Peter G. Stone, 15-32 (London: Taylor & Francis, 1999), 16.

    [14] Georgio Riello, “Things that shape history: Material culture and historical narratives”,33.

    [15] Jeremy Montagu, “Dance and Skylark: Musical Instruments”, 230.

    [16] Julie Gardiner, “The “Good Shippe” Mary Rose: An Introduction”, 229

    [17] Karin Dannehl, “Object Biographies: From Consumption to Production”, in History and Material Culture: A Student’s Guide to Approaching Alternative Sources, 2nd ed., edited by Karen Harvey, 171-186, (London: Taylor & Francis Group, 2013), 173.

    [18] Mary Anne Alburger, “The ‘fydill in fist’, 14.

    [19] Susan Mancino, “The Museum Profession: Protecting and Promoting Professional Commitments”, Curator, vol. 58, 2, 92016): 141.

  • Creating an identity through clothing: a Renaissance merchant’s fashion book

    Creating an identity through clothing: a Renaissance merchant’s fashion book

    For the second year UoP History module, The Hidden Lives of Things, taught by Dr Katy Gibbons and Dr Mary Cannon, for their assessment, students have to produce an ‘object biography’ for a historical artefact.  Sadie White chose a sixteen-century German fashion book.

    Mathäus Schwartz by Hans Maler, painted in 1526 when Schwarz was 29, Musée du Louvre, Paris

    Described as “The First Book of Fashion,” Matthäus Schwarz of Augsburg’s Klaidungsbüchlein or Trachtenbuch or “Book of Clothes” is a fascinating object.[1] This object biography explores Schwarz’s reason for producing this book, entangling ideas of self-reflection linked to the Renaissance, the importance of clothes and the idea of sentimentality. It will explore the book’s lifecycle and how someone’s relationship with an object can change its function and importance. Throughout, Riello’s approach of a “history of things” will be prevalent, placing the object in its cultural and personal context.[2]

    The book itself contains over one hundred and thirty-seven colourful self-portraits that reflect upon the clothing Schwarz wore throughout his life.[3] Each page is around sixteen by ten centimetres, produced on parchment paper with vivid watercolour paints, a rarer medium of the time.[4] Also included on each page is a description of the outfit, alongside his age and occasionally the reason the outfit was worn, which Schwarz scribed himself. Schwarz worked closely with the artist Narziss Renner for four-fifths of the book, until Renner died in 1536. [5] Woodward argues that objects are “the material embodiment” of the human effort that first creates them.[6] Meeting Renner when he was just twenty years old, portrays the personal effort involved, Schwarz entrusted Renner to produce something important to him. The personal relationship between the patron and the artist was paramount in the book’s creation: after Renner’s death, only twenty-nine more paintings were produced for the book. [7]

    An entry showing Matthias as a young man, aged 21.
    An entry showing Matthäus as a young man, aged 21.

    This leads to why Schwarz created such an object in the first place, it appears that it was intended as a personal project, that would have probably only been shared with family or close friends.[8] This is interesting as it represents the object as being self-reflective, an idea that coincided with the increase of personal documents such as diaries during the period.[9] The creation of this book started in 1520, the year that Schwarz secured his position working as an accountant to the Fugger merchants, “captains of industry” in Augsburg.[10] This position represented a turning point for Schwarz, restoring family honour after the public execution of his grandfather.[11] This idea lends itself to the book having a diary-like nature as Sangha argues they reflected the way people interpreted important events in their lives.[12] Sangha also argues that self-examination at this time was usually focused on one aspect of someone’s life, for Schwarz, this was clothing.[13] During the early modern period, clothing was intrinsically linked to social status, as Prieto argues clothes were used to “fashion oneself.”[14] Therefore the creation of the Book of Fashion exemplifies the reflection of identity through clothing. Vincent asserts that clothing was a choice of “self-presentation,” Schwarz was choosing to present and remember his life through his clothes.[15] Art and fashion were “imbued with meaning,” therefore the book provides an insight into the way people chose to perceive themselves and reflects how the culture of the Renaissance meant art was just as contemplative as writing.[16]

    Matthäus Schwarz painted aged 45 in 1542 by Christoph Amberger, Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid
    Matthäus Schwarz painted aged 45 in 1542 by Christoph Amberger, Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid

    The Book of Fashion demonstrates arguments that have started to become prevalent in the historiography of material culture, the rejection that objects are inanimate and instead that they can possess agency.[17] If the owner of an object “ascribes meaning” to it, this can lead to an emotional attachment.[18] Schwarz created this book over forty years, exemplifying that there was a relationship between the object and himself, it evoked reflection and memory through the creation of it, hence creating a personal connection.[19] Books and emotions, Downes argues, are intrinsically linked, as they proved the connection between material culture and how people used it to express emotion.[20] For Schwarz, this emotional expression is evident through the remembrance of events in his life, and the remembrance of his love of art and clothing through the object’s creation. Undeniably, The Book of Fashion had agency in Schwarz’s life because it was how he chose to remember his life, particularly key events such as weddings. This is also telling of human behaviour, why he deemed certain outfits and events as important passageways to include. Important events linked to an object are key to building sentimentality towards an object, as Fletcher argues.[21] Therefore as a book, it is an entanglement of nostalgia, passion and emotion that held forty years of life in it.

    Portrait of Electress Sophia of Hanover (1630-1714), Princess Palatine, ancestress of the British monarchy, who bought Matthäus's fashion book after his death, Portrait by Gerrard van Honthorst, National Trust, Ashdown House, Berkshire.
    Electress Sophia of Hanover (1630-1714), Princess Palatine, bought Matthäus’s fashion book after his death. Portrait by Gerrard van Honthorst, National Trust, Ashdown House, Berkshire.

    The final important analysis when discussing the book is its lifecycle, how it survived and the changing meaning it acquired through the passage of time. Matthaeus encouraged his son to work on creating a similar book, demonstrating his sentimentality towards the book. However, his son scarcely carried the project on, adding to the personal nature of the book, and its specific socio-cultural context. During Matthaeus’s time living in the rich industrial centre of Augsburg, there was a Renaissance trend of increasingly realistic portrayals of both the self and clothes in portraits, seen through the work of artists such as Daniel Hopfer.[22] This links to self-observation and explains why Schwarz created this object the way he did in 1520, and why it is a specific outcome of the cultural context. After Matthaus’s death, the book came into the possession of his granddaughter, who sold the manuscript to Jeremias Steiniger.[23] This shows the loss of personal importance of the book. His granddaughter had no relationship with him and thus no relationship to the object. With no emotional connection, the object lost its agency. In this case, it was sold, considering this was not the original intention for creation, it demonstrates that as a relationship changes with an object so does the purpose of it. It is thought that the manuscript was then sold to Sophie Electress of Hanover and two copies were made, one remaining in the Imperial Library in Paris to this day. [24] Vastly different from its original purpose of self-reflection, it now acts to reflect on the values of the Renaissance and how books are the mirror of the culture that made them.

    In conclusion, The Book of Fashion when studied as an object brings to the forefront many ideas surrounding the Renaissance. It shows us the rise of self-reflection and how people carried this out through a myriad of media, whilst simultaneously exemplifying the role of objects in this process. Another salient analysis of the Book of Fashion is the clear agency it had throughout Schwarz’s life and the importance he attached to creating the object. This is why the book held a fascination, it was a personally reflective object, yet it created this reflection through art and clothing, which in turn provides huge insight into the culture of the Renaissance.

    To discover more about clothes and the construction of Renaissance masculinity, read our 2017 post on King Henry VIII’s wardrobe by Andrew McCarthy. 

    [1] Ulinka Rublack, “Introduction,” in The First Book of Fashion: The Book of Clothes of Matthaeus and Veit Konrad Schwarz of Augsburg ed. Ulinka Rublack, Maria Hayward and Jenny Tiramni (London: Bloomsbury Publishing 2015), 3.

    [2] Giorgio Riello, “Things that shape history,” in History and Material Culture: A Students Guide to Approaching Alternative Sources ed. Karen Harvey (London: Taylor and Francis, 2013), 25.

    [3] Rublack, “Introduction,” 3.

    [4] Rublack, “Introduction,” 3.

    [5] Rublack, “Introduction,” 20.

    [6] Ian Woodward, Understanding Material Culture, (London: Sage, 2007), 82.

    [7] Rublack, “Introduction,” 10.

    [8] Rublack, “Introduction,” 3.

    [9] Laura Sangha, “Personal Documents,” in  Understanding Early Modern Primary Sources, ed. Laura Sangha and Jonathon Willis (London: Taylor and Francis, 2016), 107.

    [10] Mark Haberlein and Gerda Schmid, The Fuggers of Augsburg: Pursuing Wealth and Honor in Renaissance Germany (Virginia: Virginia University Press, 2012), 2.

    [11] Rublack, “Introduction,” 3.

    [12] Sangha, “Personal Documents,” 112.

    [13] Sangha, “Personal Documents,” 115.

    [14] Laura R. Prieto, “Clothing,” in Approaching Historical Sources in their Contexts: Spaces, Time and Performance ed. Sarah Barber and Corinna M. Peniston-Bird, (New York: Routledge, 2020), 184

    [15] Susan Vincent, Dressing the elite: Clothes in Early Modern England, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003), 7.

    [16] Vincent, Dressing the elite, 5.

    [17] Stephanie Downes, Sally Holloway and Sarah Randalls, Feeling Things: Objects and Emotions through History, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018), 8.

    [18] Downes, Holloway and Randalls, Feeling Things, 9.

    [19] Stephanie Triig and Anna Welch, “Objects, Material Culture and the History of Emotions,” Emotions: History, Culture, Society 7 (2023): 7.

    [20] Stephanie Downes, “Books,” in Early Modern Emotions ed. Susan Broomhall (London: Routledge, 2016), 132.

    [21] Downes, Holloway and Randalls, Feeling things, 13.

    [22] Rublack, “Introduction,” 5.

    [23] Rublack, “Introduction,” 21.

    [24] Rublack, “Introduction,” 21.

  • The Lost Crafts of the Past

    The Lost Crafts of the Past

    As part of their work on the second year core module ‘Working with the Past’, three University of Portsmouth History students – Chanel Parker, Loraya Head, and Gemma Norris – collaborated with Portsmouth Museum and Art Gallery to curate a three-month exhibition that both celebrated the crafts of our ancestors and highlighted the importance of preserving the craftspeoples’ skills for future generations. In this blog, written for Hampshire Archives Trust, Chanel Parker discusses the research methods the group used when curating the exhibition.

    ‘Working with the Past’ is coordinated by Mike Esbester.

    To read the blog, click this link.

     

    Slider image courtesy of Birmingham Museums Trust

  • Enhancing students’ skills and experiences: A Twitter takeover, an exhibition and a podcast

    Enhancing students’ skills and experiences: A Twitter takeover, an exhibition and a podcast

    As a team we always encourage our students to enhance their skills while studying for their History degree with us, and one way we do this is by offering them opportunities to work with some of our external partners. In this post, we demonstrate how this is undertaken in one second year core module, ‘Working with the Past, co-ordinated by Dr Mike Esbester.

    As part of their studies during their History degree, our students have worked with a range of local and international institutions, including the Mary Rose Museum, Lloyd’s Register Foundation,  the D-Day Story archive, Hong Kong Baptist University, and Pompey History Society, and have undertaken a wide variety of interesting projects over the years.

    One of our second year core modules, ‘Working with the Past’, is set up to specifically foster this type of collaboration. In the module we demonstrate how the practice of academic history can be transferred and applied to a vast range of practical projects that involve thinking about, working with, or drawing-upon knowledge and understanding of the past (you’ll find blogs on some of these projects elsewhere on this site).

    Portsmouth Museum and Art Gallery

     

    This year, one group of students have been working with Portsmouth Museum and Art Gallery on their new #EndangeredCrafts exhibition. Having taken inspiration from the Heritage Crafts ‘Red List of Endangered Crafts’, the Museum will hold an exhibition that highlights the objects that are held in its collections that represent traditional crafts that are at risk of disappearing. This disappearance, the Museum notes on its website, “is due to the individuals holding the knowledge and skills being unable to make provision to pass them on to the next generation”.

    Our students, Chanel, Gemma and Loraya, in collaboration with Museum staff and under the supervision of our Dr Maria Cannon, have held a Twitter takeover (on 11 May 2023), put together a research panel (coming soon!) and recorded a podcast, which is published on the Museum’s website. To hear the podcast, go to the Portsmouth Museum and Art Gallery website here.

     

    https://portsmouthmuseum.co.uk/what-to-see-do/special-displays/endangered-crafts/

  • ‘Gaining lots of experience and learning new skills’: Undertaking a placement year at university

    ‘Gaining lots of experience and learning new skills’: Undertaking a placement year at university

    Beth Price has recently finished her third year at Portsmouth studying History, graduating with first class honours (congratulations Beth!). In this blog, the second one looking at students’ experiences of undertaking a placement year, she reflects on the benefits she gained from undertaking a placement at her local museum, the Shrewsbury Museum and Art Gallery. 

    I originally planned to go to Spain for my placement year as a Language Assistant at a primary school, however, due to COVID, I had to quickly find something else. I wanted to stay local to home so was really grateful when my local museum, Shrewsbury Museum and Art Gallery, offered me a volunteering placement.

    The placement was unpaid, so I had to make sure it worked around my part-time job at the Co-op. The museum was really accommodating about me having another job, so I was glad that I had told them about it early on in the application process. I learnt that being open and honest with your employer from the very beginning is the best way to get an experience that works best for you.

    I quickly adjusted to my daily responsibilities such as welcoming visitors, preparing displays, and creating activities packs for children. One of my first concerns was that I would not have enough knowledge about the displays and collections, however, I made sure I read lots about them and had enough knowledge to answer questions about the local history. I was really pleased when I was able to answer questions from visitors.

    I was given lots of different experiences such as going to other sites to see how they worked, as well as shadowing educational classes that were provided to visiting schools. I think my favourite experience was dressing up with a Year 6 class into Victorian farmyard clothing! I have never really thought much of my artistic skills, but after drawing the Christmas display board, the museum managers were really impressed and asked me to create further displays. This allowed me to explore a skill of mine that I didn’t know I had and made me realise how much I enjoyed drawing and being creative. It is definitely something I will keep in mind for when I am career searching now I have graduated.

    Due to my placement year happening during COVID, the museum unfortunately had to close on multiple occasions. However, because of this, it meant that I was given the opportunity to work with a team that has a part in the cultural sector, organising events and workshops across the county. I was trained on how to edit their website, create the monthly e-newsletters, and run their social media accounts. This experience has been really beneficial to me as I will be able to apply those technological skills in future careers.

    I enjoyed my placement as I gained lots of experience in many different areas. I would say that doing this placement has opened up my eyes to possible career paths in either the educational or cultural sector. Working in a museum environment was also really exciting and I learnt so much along the way which I used in the final year of my History degree. I would recommend doing a work placement to anyone as it’s a year that comes with so many benefits. Not only does it give you experience in a working environment, but it also may open up possibilities for future contacts and career decisions.