The Liber de proprietatibus rerum Bartholomei angelici (On the Properties of Things) is a medieval encyclopedia that was written by the 13th century Franciscan scholar Bartholomeus Anglicus, who sought to gather the rapidly expanding corpus of knowledge of the Late Middle Ages into a single volume. As Bartholomeus himself says in the epilogue to De proprietatibus rerum, he wrote his book so that “the simple and the young, who on account of the infinite number of books cannot look into the properties of each single thing about which Scripture deals, can readily find their meaning herein – at least superficially.”¹ A single source for surface-level knowledge about everything? In other words, medieval Wikipedia. De proprietatibus rerum is arranged into nineteen books, moving in order of importance from spiritual beings, to human beings, to the natural world.

Over one hundred manuscript copies of De proprietatibus rerum survive, indicating its popularity and widespread use, and it continued to be printed into the seventeenth century, purportedly being used over the years by the likes of Shakespeare and Dante.² FSU Special Collections & Archives has two printed copies of De proprietatibus rerum – the first edition in English printed in London in 1582 (Vault oversize AE3.B313 1582) and a 1485 imprint from Strassburg (Vault oversize AE2.B27 1485), which is featured here.

The 1485 imprint is a stellar example of an incunabule, a book printed before 1501 in the first half-century after Gutenberg’s invention of movable type. FSU’s copy is in its original binding of alum-tawed pigskin decorated with blind fillets and stamps of popular Gothic imagery such as the griffin and the Agnus Dei (the sacrificial Lamb of God). The cover is also stamped with a small banner tool of Gothic lettering (unfortunately illegible) that could be the name of the bookbinder. The endpapers inside the front and back covers are made from re-purposed medieval manuscripts on vellum. In early printers’ shops, paper was always at a premium, and it is not uncommon to find fragments of older manuscripts used as endpapers, bindings, and sewing supports in newer books. Discoveries like these are one of the great joys of working with rare books in-person. In fact, fragments of yet another medieval manuscript have also been re-purposed on FSU’s copy of De proprietatibus rerum to make tabs, which aid the reader in turning directly to specific sections of the encyclopedia.

The study of incunabula provides a fascinating glimpse into a period of history when the book was adapting to the challenges and demands of new technologies. On the opening page of the 1485 De proprietatibus rerum, the capital letter “C” is sketched in, perhaps in preparation for illumination that was never completed; on early printed books, decoration and rubrication (red lettering) was still done by hand. Throughout the rest of the book, however, the space where a decorative capital would have been drawn is left blank and marked by a small, printed letter. As printing increased the output of new books, forms of decoration that were routine for scribes and illuminators fell to the wayside. This is not to suggest that a total break with the past occurred, however. To the contrary, the very act of printing De proprietatibus rerum is an example of new technology being used to spread old ways of thinking. The presence of manuscript waste and marginalia on FSU’s copy are physical manifestations of the links between the old and the new that can be discovered in early printed books.

Katherine Hoarn is a graduate assistant in Special Collections & Archives. She is working on her Master of Library and Information Science degree at Florida State University.

References

1. Quoted in R. J. Long, Bartholomaeus Anglicus On the Properties of Soul and Body, Toronto, 1979, p. 1.

2. R. J. Long, Bartholomaeus Anglicus On the Properties of Soul and Body, Toronto, 1979, p. 2.

..And young Sam Bowles’s son–

And young Sam Bowles is old Sam Bowles

When old Sam Bowles is done.”

This jingle, which appeared in “Time Magazine” on Oct 15, 1934 but which was said by the reporter to have been sung for decades by “the beery compositors of the venerable Springfield (Mass.) Republican,” refers to the three generations of “Sam Bowleses” who ran the Springfield Republican newspaper between 1824 and 1915, when the last editor named Sam Bowles died.  The fifth Sam Bowles broke the pattern: he didn’t run the paper. Instead, his cousin Richard Hooker took over the paper as editor and publisher. Subsequently, Sam’s younger brother Sherman worked for the paper as business manager, and then in other capacities for what had become the Republican Company, comprised of several papers.*

The “Springfield Republican” building, ca. 1900

That the first Samuel Bowles (1762-1813), the father of the Republican’s founder, was determined to have a son named after him is proven by his naming four infant sons Samuel until one lived long enough to make it stick:

List of the children of Samuel Bowles I (1762-1813), from “Genealogical and historical notes of the Bowles family” (1851)

The verse about the Bowles men was running through my head when I resealed a daguerreotype that I believe to be the youngest image extant of Sam Bowles III (1826-1878).  The daguerreotype has excellent provenance: it came to us through direct descendants of Sam Bowles along with many other photographs and papers of the Bowles-Hoar family.  Because the daguerreotype’s dirty original glass obscured the image, and because the sitter lacks the facial hair we’ve seen in so many other photos of the most famous Sam Bowles, it took a while to realize who the sitter was.  But in resealing the image in July I was able to see that we had a view of a Sam Bowles taken around 1848, before he took over the paper from his father (1851), met the Dickinsons of Amherst (1858), or became a trustee of Amherst College (1866-1878).   Here it is, shared with you and shown for the first time:

Samuel Bowles III (1826-1878), “the Editor,” here ca. 1848.

Let’s look at that verse again, then, taking the opportunity to illustrate with some of the images at Amherst College of the Samuels involved with the paper.

There’s old Sam Bowles:

Samuel Bowles II (1797-1851), “the Founder,” ca. 1850.

And young Sam Bowles:

Samuel Bowles III, a little older in ca. 1852. Shown earlier at: https://www.amherst.edu/library/archives/holdings/BHFP/bowles

And young Sam Bowles’s son:

Samuel Bowles IV (1851-1915), whose son Sherman was the last Bowles to run the paper.

But young Sam Bowles:

A third cased image of Sam Bowles III, this time ca. 1856.

Is old Sam Bowles:

Cabinet card of Sam Bowles III, ca. 1875.

When old Sam Bowles is done. In keeping with the verse, we should have another photograph of the founder, Samuel Bowles II. So far, only one photograph of him is known — the one five photos above — so we’ll end with his grandson again, Sam Bowles IV, and then another photograph of his sons Sherman (below, at left) and Samuel V:

Cabinet card of Sam Bowles IV, ca.1877.

Sherman and Samuel Bowles V, ca. 1896-7.

It’s easy to confuse the Bowles men, especially given differences in counting the Sams (whether to start with the founder or, as the Bowles family did, with his father, who died a decade before the paper was founded), or in knowing which one was at the helm of one of the papers in a given year. We hope this post helps link names with faces and dates.

************************

*The history of Springfield newspapers — dailies, weeklies, Sunday editions — is detailed in “The story of an independent newspaper, by Richard Hooker; one hundred years of the Springfield Republican, 1824-1924” and “The Passing of the Springfield Republican,” by John J. Scanlon (1950).

..And young Sam Bowles’s son–

And young Sam Bowles is old Sam Bowles

When old Sam Bowles is done.”

This jingle, which appeared in “Time Magazine” on Oct 15, 1934 but which was said by the reporter to have been sung for decades by “the beery compositors of the venerable Springfield (Mass.) Republican,” refers to the three generations of “Sam Bowleses” who ran the Springfield Republican newspaper between 1824 and 1915, when the last editor named Sam Bowles died.  The fifth Sam Bowles broke the pattern: he didn’t run the paper. Instead, his cousin Richard Hooker took over the paper as editor and publisher. Subsequently, Sam’s younger brother Sherman worked for the paper as business manager, and then in other capacities for what had become the Republican Company, comprised of several papers.*

The “Springfield Republican” building, ca. 1900

That the first Samuel Bowles (1762-1813), the father of the Republican’s founder, was determined to have a son named after him is proven by his naming four infant sons Samuel until one lived long enough to make it stick:

List of the children of Samuel Bowles I (1762-1813), from “Genealogical and historical notes of the Bowles family” (1851)

The verse about the Bowles men was running through my head when I resealed a daguerreotype that I believe to be the youngest image extant of Sam Bowles III (1826-1878).  The daguerreotype has excellent provenance: it came to us through direct descendants of Sam Bowles along with many other photographs and papers of the Bowles-Hoar family.  Because the daguerreotype’s dirty original glass obscured the image, and because the sitter lacks the facial hair we’ve seen in so many other photos of the most famous Sam Bowles, it took a while to realize who the sitter was.  But in resealing the image in July I was able to see that we had a view of a Sam Bowles taken around 1848, before he took over the paper from his father (1851), met the Dickinsons of Amherst (1858), or became a trustee of Amherst College (1866-1878).   Here it is, shared with you and shown for the first time:

Samuel Bowles III (1826-1878), “the Editor,” here ca. 1848.

Let’s look at that verse again, then, taking the opportunity to illustrate with some of the images at Amherst College of the Samuels involved with the paper.

There’s old Sam Bowles:

Samuel Bowles II (1797-1851), “the Founder,” ca. 1850.

And young Sam Bowles:

Samuel Bowles III, a little older in ca. 1852. Shown earlier at: https://www.amherst.edu/library/archives/holdings/BHFP/bowles

And young Sam Bowles’s son:

Samuel Bowles IV (1851-1915), whose son Sherman was the last Bowles to run the paper.

But young Sam Bowles:

A third cased image of Sam Bowles III, this time ca. 1856.

Is old Sam Bowles:

Cabinet card of Sam Bowles III, ca. 1875.

When old Sam Bowles is done. In keeping with the verse, we should have another photograph of the founder, Samuel Bowles II. So far, only one photograph of him is known — the one five photos above — so we’ll end with his grandson again, Sam Bowles IV, and then another photograph of his sons Sherman (below, at left) and Samuel V:

Cabinet card of Sam Bowles IV, ca.1877.

Sherman and Samuel Bowles V, ca. 1896-7.

It’s easy to confuse the Bowles men, especially given differences in counting the Sams (whether to start with the founder or, as the Bowles family did, with his father, who died a decade before the paper was founded), or in knowing which one was at the helm of one of the papers in a given year. We hope this post helps link names with faces and dates.

************************

*The history of Springfield newspapers — dailies, weeklies, Sunday editions — is detailed in “The story of an independent newspaper, by Richard Hooker; one hundred years of the Springfield Republican, 1824-1924” and “The Passing of the Springfield Republican,” by John J. Scanlon (1950).

Have you ever wondered how a book is cataloged or who constructs the records that allow you to find a resource within the library? If so, then today is your lucky day. Special Collections’ Complex Cataloging Unit created a Film Noir short on the cataloging process. Directed, filmed, and edited by Dominique Bortmas, Complex Cataloging Specialist, and written by Cataloger Elizabeth Richey, the film provides a comical yet insightful view into the world of cataloging.

Today’s story comes from Dolly and I, an 1872 volume penned by the improbably-named Oliver Optic.

The star of our tale is a ten-year-old girl named Katy, daughter of a factory agent, and a “pretty good girl”, although we’re told from the get-go that she was a demanding baby and, as she grew older, “she did not like to see others have any thing which she could not have.”

The text of Dolly and I is full of the detailed goings-on of dolls (I imagine this is appealing to the book’s intended audience), but to make a long story short: Katy is gifted a beautiful wax doll, and she doesn’t want to share it with her sweet-tempered sister Nellie, who must make do with numerous broken-ish dolls.

Despite Katy’s meanness, Nellie is still kind to her. As a reward for her kindness and good nature, Nellie herself is gifted a wax doll– and this one has eyes that open and close!!

Wow.

As I’m sure one can imagine, Katy is 100% furious. How dare Nellie have a blinking doll, when Katy only has a beautiful non-blinking doll? (Mind you, Nellie is so empathetic, she feels guilty about her doll’s niceness and her sister’s anger.)

What does Katy, blinded by her envious rage, do? She stumbles up the dark stairs after dinner one evening, makes her way into her poorly-lit play room, and then:

Golly. The accompanying narrative makes it even creepier:

‘Your dolly shall not be better than mine any longer,’ she said to herself. As she said this, she took the scissors from the work basket on the bureau, and finding one of the eyes with her fingers, she struck one of the points right into it. Then she turned the scissors, so as entirely to destroy the eye. Not content with this, she spoiled the other eye in the same manner.

Sneaking the defiled doll back into her drawer, Katy slinks downstairs and tries to act cool. When dear, sweet Nellie suggests some pre-bedtime doll-playing, Katy demurs, feeling “just as though she should sink through the floor”. Nellie, completely unaware of her sister’s inner turmoil, runs upstairs, grabs her blinking doll, brings it down to the table, and…

…wait for it…

Nellie’s doll IS TOTALLY FINE and HER EYES HAVEN’T BEEN POKED OUT BY A SEWING IMPLEMENT.

Is it magic?

No, it’s the retributive tendency of the otherwise marvelous universe, for in her jealous frenzy, Katy accidentally poked out the eyes of her very own wax doll.

Our story ends with Katy’s mother scolding her, Katy crying herself to sleep, and the non-blinking wax doll being “utterly ruined”. Tell us, Oliver Optic, what’s the moral of this sad, sad tale?

When you envy others, although you may not punch out the eyes of your own doll, you hurt yourself more than any one else.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

A few weeks ago I wrote about our facial goniometer, an instrument that measures the precise angles of the human face, and wondered whether it had been acquired by Amherst’s college physician and professor of physical education and hygiene Edward “Doc” Hitchcock (AC 1849). This led me to further pondering about the interesting 19th century origins of anthropometry, the science of measurements and proportions of the human body.

Edward “Doc” Hitchcock, Class of 1849

In the fall of 1861, “Doc” Hitchcock, as Professor of Physical Education and Hygiene at Amherst, introduced his system of anthropometric measurements documenting the physical size and strength of every freshman for more than twenty years. These measurements became an American standard for comparative purposes and earned Hitchcock the reputation as a pioneer in this field.

The anthropometric protocol for students as instituted by Dr. Hitchcock involved over fifty different measurements in six different categories: heights, weights, lengths, breadths, girths and strengths. It required many kinds of specialized devices and an elaborate system of record-keeping to register them. The practice of measuring students was in fact so accepted and indeed so entrenched in the culture of Amherst in the 19th century (as well as at many other American colleges that adopted Hitchcock’s methods) that it was customary to include physical data even in an annual list of graduates:

The table below lists not only the average measurements of the college population, but also the record highs in each category — as well as the name of the student holding that record:

Table from An Anthropometric Manual Giving Physical Measurements and Tests of Amherst College Students Between 17 and 26 Years of Age, and the Method of Securing Them. 4th ed., 1900).  Edward and Mary Judson Hitchcock Papers, box 18, folder 9.

What was the purpose of all these measurements?

The Need of Anthropometry: A Paper Read by E. Hitchcock. Brooklyn: Rome Brothers, 1887.

Hitchcock, in a paper entitled “The Need of Anthropometry” (1887), explained the rationale this way:

To learn what is the condition of all the young men as they come to us and how, and in what way can we help them to grow while connected with us, is the ultimate aim of the Anthropometric work of Amherst College. And the carrying out of this object involves the accurate observation of the physical characteristics of the students, and by a patient and long time process of comparing data, finally enabling the Department to declare to them a standard by which they may be judged.

“Doc” Hitchcock is widely credited as “the father of college physical education.” He took quite seriously Amherst president William A. Stearns’ emphasis on the goal of mens sana in corpore sano, a healthy mind in a healthy body, as the answer to the observable increase in morbidity among a sedentary class of college-educated Americans at that time in the country’s history. Many colleges and universities began to adopt European regimens of exercise for their students and built the first gymnasiums on their campuses. Amherst, under Stearns’ leadership, went one step farther in establishing the first department of Physical Education and Hygiene (and an endowed professorship to secure it).

This advertisement on the back cover of “The Need of Anthropometry” shows Hitchcock’s influence as a exponent of anthropometry and the range of colleges and schools where it was practiced.

The elaborate system of body measurements that Hitchcock introduced, then, was intended not (as one might queasily suspect) as a reference (veiled or not) to relative judgments on racial “purity” (eugenics being a hideous malformation of science that was to have its full bloom in the early decades of the following century). Rather, it indicated an attempt to educate the whole man — mind, body, soul — and encourage each one individually to be mindful of his body as a temple. I have little doubt that it was influenced by the Victorian ideal of “muscular Christianity,” a piety built on a foundation of fresh air, wholesome diet, sport and exercise.

Below, preserved in the college scrapbook of Shattuck Hartwell (AC 1888) is his personal booklet of anthropometric measurements, entered in pencil next to the printed average values for men in his height range. As can be seen from the numbers, Hartwell was probably told he should work harder in Amherst’s calisthenics classes to make up for many deficiencies!

Physical education class in Pratt Gymnasium, winter 1899.

Our Archives holds a wealth of material on anthropometry. The Edward (AC 1849) and Mary Judson Hitchcock Family Papers hold most of Doc Hitchcock’s writings on the subject and on physical education generally, and show too what a leading figure he was not only on the Amherst campus but nationwide in his field. The records of the Department of Physical Education and Hygiene contain annual reports, manuals, correspondence, articles by Hitchcock and other educators, and many tables of anthropometric data. Our Photographs Collection holds a few rare images showing anthropometry apparatus in use, as here:

The mustached man in the third photo above, by the way, can be identified as Leverett Bradley (AC 1873), a member of Amherst’s famed crew team that took the championship at the Springfield Regatta, July 1872. A formidable athlete, Bradley went on to become an Episcopal priest in Boston and Philadelphia. Muscular Christianity, indeed.

A few weeks ago I wrote about our facial goniometer, an instrument that measures the precise angles of the human face, and wondered whether it had been acquired by Amherst’s college physician and professor of physical education and hygiene Edward “Doc” Hitchcock (AC 1849). This led me to further pondering about the interesting 19th century origins of anthropometry, the science of measurements and proportions of the human body.

Edward “Doc” Hitchcock, Class of 1849

In the fall of 1861, “Doc” Hitchcock, as Professor of Physical Education and Hygiene at Amherst, introduced his system of anthropometric measurements documenting the physical size and strength of every freshman for more than twenty years. These measurements became an American standard for comparative purposes and earned Hitchcock the reputation as a pioneer in this field.

The anthropometric protocol for students as instituted by Dr. Hitchcock involved over fifty different measurements in six different categories: heights, weights, lengths, breadths, girths and strengths. It required many kinds of specialized devices and an elaborate system of record-keeping to register them. The practice of measuring students was in fact so accepted and indeed so entrenched in the culture of Amherst in the 19th century (as well as at many other American colleges that adopted Hitchcock’s methods) that it was customary to include physical data even in an annual list of graduates:

The table below lists not only the average measurements of the college population, but also the record highs in each category — as well as the name of the student holding that record:

Table from An Anthropometric Manual Giving Physical Measurements and Tests of Amherst College Students Between 17 and 26 Years of Age, and the Method of Securing Them. 4th ed., 1900).  Edward and Mary Judson Hitchcock Papers, box 18, folder 9.

What was the purpose of all these measurements?

The Need of Anthropometry: A Paper Read by E. Hitchcock. Brooklyn: Rome Brothers, 1887.

Hitchcock, in a paper entitled “The Need of Anthropometry” (1887), explained the rationale this way:

To learn what is the condition of all the young men as they come to us and how, and in what way can we help them to grow while connected with us, is the ultimate aim of the Anthropometric work of Amherst College. And the carrying out of this object involves the accurate observation of the physical characteristics of the students, and by a patient and long time process of comparing data, finally enabling the Department to declare to them a standard by which they may be judged.

“Doc” Hitchcock is widely credited as “the father of college physical education.” He took quite seriously Amherst president William A. Stearns’ emphasis on the goal of mens sana in corpore sano, a healthy mind in a healthy body, as the answer to the observable increase in morbidity among a sedentary class of college-educated Americans at that time in the country’s history. Many colleges and universities began to adopt European regimens of exercise for their students and built the first gymnasiums on their campuses. Amherst, under Stearns’ leadership, went one step farther in establishing the first department of Physical Education and Hygiene (and an endowed professorship to secure it).

This advertisement on the back cover of “The Need of Anthropometry” shows Hitchcock’s influence as a exponent of anthropometry and the range of colleges and schools where it was practiced.

The elaborate system of body measurements that Hitchcock introduced, then, was intended not (as one might queasily suspect) as a reference (veiled or not) to relative judgments on racial “purity” (eugenics being a hideous malformation of science that was to have its full bloom in the early decades of the following century). Rather, it indicated an attempt to educate the whole man — mind, body, soul — and encourage each one individually to be mindful of his body as a temple. I have little doubt that it was influenced by the Victorian ideal of “muscular Christianity,” a piety built on a foundation of fresh air, wholesome diet, sport and exercise.

Below, preserved in the college scrapbook of Shattuck Hartwell (AC 1888) is his personal booklet of anthropometric measurements, entered in pencil next to the printed average values for men in his height range. As can be seen from the numbers, Hartwell was probably told he should work harder in Amherst’s calisthenics classes to make up for many deficiencies!

Physical education class in Pratt Gymnasium, winter 1899.

Our Archives holds a wealth of material on anthropometry. The Edward (AC 1849) and Mary Judson Hitchcock Family Papers hold most of Doc Hitchcock’s writings on the subject and on physical education generally, and show too what a leading figure he was not only on the Amherst campus but nationwide in his field. The records of the Department of Physical Education and Hygiene contain annual reports, manuals, correspondence, articles by Hitchcock and other educators, and many tables of anthropometric data. Our Photographs Collection holds a few rare images showing anthropometry apparatus in use, as here:

The mustached man in the third photo above, by the way, can be identified as Leverett Bradley (AC 1873), a member of Amherst’s famed crew team that took the championship at the Springfield Regatta, July 1872. A formidable athlete, Bradley went on to become an Episcopal priest in Boston and Philadelphia. Muscular Christianity, indeed.

In June, I attended the Association of Canadian Archivists (ACA) annual conference in Regina, Saskatchewan.

The venerable Hotel Saskatchewan, site of the 2015 ACA conference

The Association of Canadian Archivists is the national professional organization for archivists in Canada outside of Quebec. Here are some highlights of this year’s event.

TAATU – the technology unconference

If you’re into tech, one of the best parts of any ACA conference is The Archives and Technology Unconference (TAATU). Hosted by the Technology and Archives Special Interest Section (TaASIS), TAATU is laid-back and designed to be non-intimidating for non-techies, but it also has its serious side, perhaps this year more so than others. As more and more Canadian archives adopt AtoM as their holdings management database and experiment with its sister product, digital preservation system Archivematica, TAATU has become a valuable venue for sharing information, including success stories and lessons learned, for both open source products.

This year’s highlights included lightning talks on:

• a new Archivematica feature to accommodate the hierarchical arrangement of digital records;
• Artefactual Systems’ work with the Museum of Modern Art to develop a repository management system, Binder
• The development of a Canadian accession standard and opportunities for community feedback
• Updates to donation agreements to take into account digital preservation considerations, including issues around ownership and fair market value, the ethics of forensic disk imaging, and options for Creative Commons licensing
• Physical storage management functionality improvements in AtoM.

There was also useful speculation and debate regarding the role and nature of the national and provincial/territorial network databases (MemoryBC in British Columbia, for example, and Archives Canada at the national level) and the issues surrounding their maintenance and synchronization. It is likely that this will be a key issue to be dealt with by the archival community over the next year or two.

The lightning talks were followed by a meeting of the Canadian AtoM development working group, for now a loose affiliation of AtoM users who are looking for ways to pool resources to develop requirements and fund development of the software.

News from Library and Archives Canada

The biggest buzz of the conference came during Friday’s plenary session by Librarian and Archivist of Canada, Guy Berthiaume. Part status report on Library and Archives Canada’s activity since his appointment in June 2014, part articulation of his vision for the future, Berthiaume took the opportunity to announce the restoration of some federal funding to the archives sector. The new Documentary Heritage Communities Program will provide $1.5 million in project funding to archival organizations that do not receive regular funding from any level of government. Unlike its predecessor, the National Archival Development Program which was cut in 2012, this new program excludes government and university archives. Nevertheless, it represents a step forward for LAC and its leadership role and hopefully bodes well for the future direction of the Canadian archival system.

Guy Berthiaume addresses ACA delegates during a plenary session

Almost lost in the clamour of the funding announcement were references to two key reports published within the last year. The first, The Future Now: Canada’s Libraries, Archives and Public Memory by the Royal Society of Canada, examines the state of library and archival services and the expectations of 21^st century users, and outlines recommendations for LAC, professional associations and councils, and provincial and territorial governments to strengthen both communities. The second, Leading in the Digital World: Opportunities for Canada’s Memory Institutions by the Council of Canadian Academies examines how archives, libraries, museums and galleries may embrace the opportunities and challenges posed by changes in digital technology, especially regarding their traditional roles and relevance to society. Both are well worth reading by those interested in the future directions of these institutions.

For more on M. Berthiaume’s address, the Government of Canada has made his speaking notes available.

Sessions of note

Other sessions of interest included a thought-provoking presentation on digital preservation challenges. Allana Mayer presented her independent survey results on the current state of born-digital preservation in Canada, while Adam Jansen looked at preservation requirements for records in cloud storage. Paul Wagner talked of Library and Archives Canada’s efforts to build a trusted digital repository.

Heather MacNeil and Elizabeth Shaffer gave two papers that explored the idea of archives’ role in social justice and the social consequences of poor recordkeeping. MacNeil focussed on the investigations of abuse in Scottish residential schools while Shaffer examined the design of information systems in the context of the National Research Centre for Truth and Reconciliation. Both papers reminded delegates of the fundamental role of archivists as keepers of evidence and of archives in citizens’ quests to prove rights and obligations.

On a lighter note, as part of a session on transformations within the profession and our holdings, Greg Bak of the University of Manitoba gave a whirlwind tour of the history of electronic recordkeeping from punch cards to cloud storage. Young archivists in the audience laughed at images of early Apple computers, considering them museum pieces; those of us in mid-career were horrified to realize we used them as undergraduates.

One of Greg Bak’s slides illustrating obsolete technology

It was also refreshing to hear Red Deer and District Archivist Lindsay Ballagray report on her institution’s new approach to copyright. Rooted in a desire to remove barriers on access and use, they now take a more simplified view with the elimination of commercial use and permission fees, greatly reducing paperwork and eliminating the need for enforcement. Delegates almost cheered Lindsay’s presentation, which was gratifying to witness. Our own decision to eliminate these in 2008 was certainly not as popular among our colleagues.

I had the pleasure of chairing the session ‘Building and Sustaining Archives’ and delivering commentary on the to papers. One reported the results of a recent Society of American Archivists survey of municipal archives and the other the tale of starting a municipal archives from the ground up, near to home at the City of Coquitlam.

Saturday’s plenary was also worthy of note. Anthea Seles, currently with the National Archives of the UK, told a cautionary tale of a future where archivists are not part of the conversation on managing and preserving big data, arguing that our continued convergence with other memory organizations emphasises our cultural function and ignores our more important role as facilitators of accountability and transparency. Encouraging alignment with auditors, lawyers and scientists, she challenged delegates to change the way we talk about archives, to build relationships and reach out and take in new knowledge.

In his commentary, Seamus Ross of University of Toronto’s Faculty of Information Science agreed that the profession is at a crossroads, but that we cannot lose sight of the fact that ours is an ancient profession and one with a robust intellectual body of knowledge. Arguing that there are many areas where we used to control the field, including knowledge of authenticity and provenance, he noted we need to engage in research across disciplines and demonstrate how our theoretical framework can inform those disciplines, including those of law, finance, and data science. He noted that we also need graduate students who understand data, suggesting that most archival studies students still come from the humanities and social sciences, which enables them to write a narrative, but does not give them the necessary scientific and technical background they need to truly succeed. And he suggested our professional associations are failing to meet the need as well, and must be more creative to remain relevant and effective.

Association business – state of the union

Probably the most critical topic at both the members input session and annual general meeting was the report of the Canadian Archival System Working Group. Formed after the Canadian Archives Summit in 2014, the working group has produced a renewed vision and focus for the Canadian Archival System and has published that draft strategy document for broader public consultation over the summer. As with the Royal Society and Council of Canadian Academies reports above, the re-envisioning is prompted by today’s digital challenges and the changing public expectations the digital age brings with it.

East vs. West Ball Game

And finally, no ACA conference is complete without the traditional East vs. West softball game. The West was set to defend its title and secure the coveted Doughty Cup for another year, but sadly, a prairie thunderstorm conspired and the game was called on account of rain.

Ahead of the thunderstorm, Melanie Delva of the Anglican Diocese of New Westminster Archives keeps her eye on the ball

Ever on the hunt for a silver lining, however, this archivist took solace in a leisurely evening walk to and from the field. It made for some pleasant if distant reminders of my own youth on the prairie, albeit a bit further west of Regina. Still, the architecture was familiar, as were other reminders of prairie life, like this one:

Spotted on the way to the ball game…. What’s out of place in this parking lot? At least as far as a Lower Mainlander is concerned

The outlets for plugging in your block heater!

We were there, fortunately, during a gloriously warm and dry June. Thank you to the organizers for a great conference and a chance to connect with old friends and new colleagues.