Reincarnating the Electric Map?

Eric Wittenberg draws our attention to an interesting news item from Gettysburg.  They’re throwing around the idea of bringing back some version of the Electric Map in a conventional, movie-theater format. 

I’m not sure what they’ve got in mind, but the news item makes an implication that has me scratching my head: “The Electric Map was disassembled earlier this year and placed in storage, where it remains today. But before it was taken apart, the Electric Map presentation was filmed, Park Superintendent John Latschar said Thursday. The film is being edited, he said.”

Did I get that right?  Are they thinking about just running a film of the Electric Map running through its paces?  If that’s the case, I’ll pass.

Maybe they’re planning to put together a new, original film that will basically be a two-dimensional, onscreen animated map.  That’s not a bad idea, but it won’t really accomplish anything that hasn’t already been done with the shorter tactical films in the battle galleries.  The only advantage would be that visitors could see the entire battle as a whole, as they did before.

As much as I love the new exhibits, I still can’t figure out why they didn’t replace the Electric Map with a smaller, fiber optic version similar to the one at Cowpens.  The decision to demolish the old map seemed to have a lot to do with its unwieldy size and outdated technology; the approach at Cowpens would have eliminated both of these problems.   Anyway, we’ll see what they’ve got in the works.

Return of the electric map?

Check out this story posted at Eric Wittenberg’s blog about an effort to relocate Gettysburg’s Electric Map to a site near its old home.  I’d like to see it up and running again, simply for the sake of nostalgia.  I think the question is whether the map would be enough of a draw to anchor an entire museum.  I suspect it would be, since it’s got quite a history of its own.

As much as I love the exhibits in the new Visitor Center, I do miss the opportunity to see the whole battle play out at once that the map provided.  I know it was badly outdated, and I understand that space was a factor in leaving it out of the new facility.  Still, I wish the new exhibits included an updated version.  Cowpens National Battlefield has a smaller and more up-to-date map presentation; I think it uses fiber-optic lights instead of electric bulbs, so it has a much cleaner look and operates more smoothly.  The Electric Map was well past its prime, but I think the basic concept remains the most effective way to illustrate the ebb and flow of a battle.

Sentiment and historic sites

Professor Brooks Simpson has posted a wonderful piece at Civil Warriors.  It’s about the sentimental attachments we develop toward historic sites, and the conflicted feelings that changes at these sites can generate.  Professor Simpson focuses on the recent transformations at Gettysburg National Military Park that have gotten so much attention around the historical blogosphere. 

He acknowledges that these changes are beneficial and necessary, but he also notes that the park is more than an artifact for him.  It’s also a place he loves:  “Am I glad as a historian that the woods west of the Sedgwick monument have been cleared to give us a much better understanding of the terrain that Daniel Sickles saw on July 2, 1863?  Sure.  But I liked those woods.  Same thing goes for the clearing along Oak Hill.”

Gettysburg is one of my favorite places, too.  Its combination of gorgeous scenery, small-town atmosphere, monumental commemoration, and tourist kitsch—all of it saturated in history—is absolutely unique.  I love being in a place where history isn’t latent, but dominates the landscape.  Unlike many other history buffs, though, I don’t have a longstanding relationship with Gettysburg.  In fact, I’ve only been there twice. 

The first time was a few years ago.  The NPS was already in the process of transferring the collection out of the old visitor center.  Much of it was still in place, though, and the electric map was still up and running.  Still, it was pretty apparent that the old VC was on its last legs.  In addition to the building’s physical deterioration, the exhibits failed to explain the battle (or even many of the artifacts themselves).  There was very little interpretation going on.  Having little sentimental attachment to the facility, and viewing it critically from the standpoint of someone working (at the time) in public history, I didn’t regret its passing.

I can certainly understand why serious aficionados saw little wrong with the exhibits in the old building.  If you’ve already mastered the strategic and tactical picture, then you can appreciate the field without needing to have it explained for you.  As I’ve said before, though, most visitors don’t have the advantage of expertise.  My stance is that the NPS has a responsibility to equip its visitors to understand the sites they’re seeing.  And I couldn’t for the life of me see how the average visitor would obtain a better grasp of the battle in the old museum.  The new one, by contrast, explains Lee’s invasion, the Union response, the three days of battle, and the aftermath.  It gives visitors a grasp of what happened there.

I have a similar attitude toward the removal of trees that encroach on the field.  I don’t have a personal stake in these woods, and I welcome alterations that bring us closer to understanding the battle.

Now, the question is this: Would I be so enthusiastic about these changes if I had been a longtime visitor to the park?  Would I be so cavalier about altering the park for the sake of better interpretation if my own fond memories were at stake?  In all honesty, maybe not.  When places that are special to me change, I usually react with both regret and indignation.

This tension between sentiment and interpretive need is, I think, a unique issue when it comes to historic sites.  Places play a unique role in our lives.  Most of us who love history have fond memories connected to particular books, films, or places.  If you grew up reading Bruce Catton or watching Ken Burns, you can open a book or turn on a DVD player and access that experience whenever you want.  When the memory is tied to a piece of ground, though, that’s not always the case.  You might go back to find that it’s no longer the place you remember.

These debates will probably continue as long as exhibits become outdated, vegetation grows up, and facilities need replacing.  Personally, though, I think the fact that we care enough about these places to have an emotional stake in them is a healthy sign.  We might argue about whether or not they need changing, but we can agree that they’re worth the argument.

(Photo of the High Water Mark from Wikimedia Commons)

Battlefield Webcams

Yes, now you can visit Little Bighorn and Gettysburg without leaving the comfort and safety of your home or office.  As much as I love this stuff, these webcams didn’t hold my attention for too long.  Now, if they’d had these cameras up during the fighting. . .

Sad news from Gettysburg

A locust tree on Cemetery Hill, one of the few remaining trees that stood on the field in 1863, toppled over during a nasty storm a few days ago.  This brief news story has a few details.

Controversy abounds at the Gettysburg Visitor Center

When the new Gettysburg Museum and Visitor Center first opened, it was a hot topic in the world of Civil War blogging, and now it’s popping up again.  Check out noted author Eric Wittenberg’s last couple of posts, including a scathing review of the exhibits from Civil War News.  The new galleries are more interpretive and less artifact-heavy than the old ones, which has some critics pretty upset.

I’ve spent most of my (admittedly brief) career in history museums, so I’ve followed these discussions with some interest.  Not long ago I got the opportunity to write a review of the exhibits for a quarterly Lincoln journal.  It hasn’t been published yet, but allow me to make a few general remarks.

When I was a museum intern, my mentor used to say, “An exhibit is a communication device.”  If we’re going to assess the new Gettysburg museum, we need to determine what the planners were trying to communicate and whether or not they’ve succeeded, while remembering the scope of the intended audience.

First of all, I can sympathize with the critics who miss the rows on rows of artifacts.  I also believe the decision not to include an updated electric map was a mistake, although the old one was well past its prime.

But it’s important to keep two things in mind when judging the new museum’s content.  First, context matters.  Wars happen because tremendous issues are at stake, and the average visitor needs to understand those issues in order to appreciate the significance of what they’re going to see.

Second, I don’t think that the inclusion of this contextual material excludes a good examination of the battle itself.  In fact, one of the new museum’s great strengths is how effectively it explains the organization of armies, the function of cavalry, or the use of artillery in repulsing Pickett’s attack.  When it comes to political/social context vs. strategy and tactics, visitors to the new museum can have their cake and eat it, too.

I think most visitors will leave these galleries understanding why the battle happened, how it unfolded, and what it meant and continues to mean.  To me, that qualifies as a success.

(The image is from the Gettysburg National Military Park’s website.)