Being that he has a refined sense of both words and music, Whit seems like a good candidate for exploring and discovering some overlooked gems in the trove, and so in this occasional series, he’ll be presenting some of his noteworthy finds.
University of North Texas jazz alum and pianist/composer Rodman takes the high road (compositionally and performance-wise) on this impressive debut album. The songs suggest a bittersweet maturity beyond her years, all the while digging on a film noir/back-alley ambiance courtesy of NYC instrumentalists. One detects masterful moments of Mingus or McCoy, but turns out it’s Ahmad Jamal and Herbie Hancock to whom Rodman mostly nods. A moody, mysterious, thematically cohesive collection.
Bare-boned and gritty country rock from the longtime SoCal troubadour Mark Insley. Think of that Bakersfield sound gone cowpunk. Insley co-produces – this, his second album – along with Paul du Gre (Los Lobos, Sheryl Crow, Dave Alvin), and the result is pure Americana gold. Bad bruising kickers give way to end-of-the-bar sad ballads, while those introspective and hard-luck lyrics weave everything together into a Southwestern storyteller’s sarape. A late-night soundtrack for the road-weary heart.
This Bay Area soul/jazz collective brings some serious souped-up grooveon their self-titled debut album. Wide Hive Records label founder and organist Gregory Howe leads the winding way along with songwriting accomplice Matt Montgomery on piano and bass. Apart from one track featuring the incredible jazz diva Faye Carol on vocals, the album is stripped-down, instrumental, and righteously funky. Head-nodding, hip-shaking, mood-enhancing aural medicine. The base elements of R&B – good for what ails you.
Lo-fi masterminds Waldemar Noë and Wim Elzinga wear an affinity for raw Sixties-era music like a badge upon their faded denim sleeves. With equal parts Velvet Underground, The Byrds, and (gone electric) Dylan, this Amsterdam retro-rock duo revels in lazy breezy jingle-jangle pop songs. Add in analog-recorded warmth to their sunshiny living room vibe, and the album just melds together like some dear old summer friend’s mixtape. Truly, truly groovy.
Released over thirty years after its capture at NYC’s Atlantic Studios, this Sam Moore (of Sam & Dave fame) solo debut album celebrates the singer’s supremely soulful voice with a mixed gift bag of mostly covers. Showcasing classic production by tenor sax legend King Curtis, big-boned R&B backbeats by Bernard Purdie, and even Aretha Franklin sitting in on keyboards(!), Moore dazzles and thrills on each track. The finest of Fine Art, the highest of a higher calling, and truly essential American music.
[Harold Whit Williams is a Content Management Specialist in Music & Multimedia Resources. He writes poetry, is guitarist for the critically acclaimed rock band Cotton Mather, and releases lo-fi guitar-heavy indie pop as DAILY WORKER.]
Read, hot & digitized: Librarians and the digital scholarship they love — In this series, librarians from the Libraries’ Arts, Humanities and Global Studies Engagement Team briefly present, explore and critique existing examples of digital scholarship to encourage and inspire critical reflection of and future creative contributions to the growing fields of digital scholarship.
Together with diaries and memoirs in print, audio-visual testimonies are primary sources that shed light on the lived experience of people who experienced the Holocaust. There are a few institutions around the world that produce, curate, and publish such testimonies;[1] one of them is the Fortunoff Video Archive for Holocaust Testimonies at Yale university. The mission of the Fortunoff archive is to “record and project the stories of those who were there.” Established in 1981, and based on a donation of testimonies previously videotaped since 1979 by The Holocaust Survivors Film Project, the archive works to record, collect, and preserve Holocaust witness testimonies, and to make its collection available to researchers, educators, and the general public.[2]
Fred Alford, professor emeritus of the university of Maryland, researches the way trauma becomes embedded in nations, societies, and groups[3]; upon his research in the Fortunoff archive, he asserted that “testimonies are important [because they] make a historical abstraction real.”[4] Witnesses remind us that the Holocaust was made of people, victims, and executioners. He argues that a proper psychoanalytic interpretation can help us understand not merely the suffering of survivors, but can remind us of an equally important fact: “…. that for every torment there was a tormenter, for every degradation a degrader, for every humiliation one who inflicted it. For every death a murderer……”
He goes on to say that “We listen to witnesses in order to understand their suffering, and we seek to understand their suffering in order to understand better regimes of organized terror and the role they play in our lives……We listen to witnesses in order to remember better that their suffering comes at the hands of regimes that are made of people.”[5]
The Fortunoff archive currently holds more than 4,400 testimonies, which are comprised of over 12,000 recorded hours. Testimonies were produced in cooperation with 36 affiliated projects across North America, South America, Europe, and Israel. The archive and its affiliates recorded the testimonies of willing individuals with first-hand experience of the Nazi persecutions, including those who were in hiding, survivors, bystanders, resistants, and liberators. Testimonies were recorded in whatever language the witness preferred, and range in length from 30 minutes to over 40 hours (recorded over several sessions).
While the database allows for various searching, sorting, and limiting options – using the Library of Congress Subject Headings (LCSH) as a form of a common controlled vocabulary – it also has more advanced Digital Humanities tools which were developed together with the Yale DHLab.
Let them speak (LTS) is a digital anthology of testimonies from three different collections – United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (USHMM), the Shoah Foundation at the University of Southern California (USC VA), and the Fortunoff archive. The anthology includes a search tool that employs corpus query language which allows for more sophisticated searches like Lemma searches. The goal is to demonstrate the value of these linguistics tools for exploring large numbers of audiovisual materials, as well as make a first attempt to bring collections of testimonies into the same digital space. The LTS tool is slated to go live by December 2020.
The Collection metadata dashboard is a visual representation of the collection descriptions, as it allows filtering by various parameters, such as date (birth year and recording year), birth place, subject, gender, language of testimony, and affiliate programs from which testimonies were received. One could access each testimony directly from the dashboard. A useful functionality is the ability to search for subject headings in the dashboard and limit the results further by additional parameters. For example, a search for the term “childbirth” would reveal five subject headings related to the term; clicking on “childbirth in concentration camps” would bring up 98 testimonies.
The Testimony citation database shows data on cited testimonies, publications that cited them, and the authors of those publications. Some authors’ names are linked to the author’s website, their page on the OCLC WorldCat Identities database, or their authority file on the Virtual International Authority File (VIAF) database. Searching for Fred Alford, the scholar cited above, one would realize that he has made 60 citations to 26 testimonies in 5 publications. These testimonies and publications are linked from the results page.
The Fortunoff archive is open to any student or researcher either on site, or online through an ‘access site.’ Currently there are 84 access sites around the world in academic libraries, museums, and research centers. The University of Texas Libraries has joined the project as an access site in summer 2019. The archive is accessible to UT affiliates both on and off campus, as well as to non-UT walk-in visitors on campus. All users would need to create an account with Yale’s Aviary, the archive’s digital access system. Searching and browsing is done through that personal account. There is no cost involved. UT affiliates could also access their Aviary account, and the archive, through a proxy connection to UT and/or a VPN.
The UT Libraries holds 390 items (in print and online) that deal with personal narratives and testimonies of holocaust survivors. Most of these items are autobiographies or diaries, while others are audiovisual materials, research and analysis of personal narratives, and collections of individual testimonies. The Fortunoff database itself is also accessible through the library catalog.
[1] The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (USHMM), The Yad Vashem Museum in Jerusalem, The British Library (London), and The University of Southern California (USC) Shoah Foundation.
[4] Alford, C. Why Holocaust Testimony is Important, and how Psychoanalytic Interpretation can Help…but only to a Point. Psychoanal Cult Soc 13, 221–239 (2008). https://doi.org/10.1057/pcs.2008.16
Read, hot & digitized: Librarians and the digital scholarship they love — In this series, librarians from the Libraries’ Arts, Humanities and Global Studies Engagement Team briefly present, explore and critique existing examples of digital scholarship to encourage and inspire critical reflection of and future creative contributions to the growing fields of digital scholarship.
The Indian subcontinent gained independence from Britain in 1947, ending centuries of colonial influence and rule, thereby creating the nation states of India, Pakistan and Bangladesh (Bangladesh was East Pakistan until 1971). Like elsewhere, the “colonial project” in India took many forms and could be readily observed through examples such as the built environment, changes in civil infrastructure, and ultimately in ways of documenting and “knowing.” Contemporaries in the colonial period noted (and in some cases celebrated) these changes in many ways too, leaving traces such as official documents and reports, personal narratives including diaries, and even ephemera. As students of history, we desperately need these primary sources to nuance our awareness of what happened in the colonial period and of how people understood the events at the time. We need documentary mnemonics. In this post, I highlight a social media project that encourages us to look closely at postcards as sources to inform our understandings of both what was considered as important (the visuals on the cards themselves) as well as how information traveled and gained collective traction (the sending and receiving of the cards, not to mention what might be written on them).
As I write this from a scenic spot in Austin on a lovely spring
day, I see many folks with their cell phones out, ready to take pictures. I’m not sure why they’re feeling compelled to
take the pictures—maybe to help them remember this pleasant day, maybe to
document things they haven’t seen before, maybe to share with friends and
family later, inviting them to imagine Austin along with them. Whatever the reason, this now ubiquitous
phenomenon of quick, easy and cheap photo sharing feels simultaneously both
very “natural” and very “21st century.”
Delightful digital projects such as the “Early Postcards from India,”
however, challenge my assumption that an ephemeral capturing and sharing images
is a particularly “contemporary” activity.
As School of Oriental and African Studies
(SOAS) visual anthropologists Stephen Hughes and Emily Stevenson
explain,
“For anyone who has lived through the recent emergence of the
Internet, social media, camera phones, and digital-printing technologies, it is
perhaps all too easy to assume that the rapid and large-scale circulation of
photographic images is a uniquely twenty-first-century phenomenon… A growing
body of literature demonstrates that since its invention, in the mid-nineteenth
century, photography has always circulated, moving among different spaces,
discourses, and material forms.. Of the various nineteenth-century photographic
innovations, the humble picture postcard was the most widely traveled of them
all.”(1)
In “Early Postcards from India,” Hughes and Stevenson build on the
success of their earlier physical exhibits of postcards as historical
documents. They creatively exploit Instagram’s social media platform to
reintroduce and redistribute the visual memories captured in and on early
postcards from India. The chosen platform
is unpretentious in layout, openly accessible to anyone with an Instagram
account, and constantly growing–they have a new image and related provocative
or didactic post daily. Their use of Instagram, one of the most widely
adopted and therefore “traveled” image innovations, to continue the circulation
and consumption of these images, is a simple but highly effective stroke of
genius.
The content in “Early Postcards” is
wide-ranging: it includes images of monuments, of municipal infrastructures, of
“anthropological types.” As such, the
images evoke feelings of nostalgia, of curiosity, of unease, and perhaps, of
collective regret. Thanks to Hughes and
Stevenson for sharing these images so we can all collectively participate in
the critiques and (re)writings of history.
Those interested in further exploring the history of postcards, of
visual representation(s) and of colonial India might find these helpful
starting points:
Former Dean of the Jackson School of Geosciences Dr. Sharon Mosher announced in December the creation of a new endowment fund honoring longtime Geology Librarian Dennis Trombatore.
The Dennis Trombatore Excellence Fund for the Walter Geology Library was established with the support of alumnus Dr. Carlotta Chernoff (’92 BS, ’95 MA) in honor of Trombatore as additional funding for urgent needs at the discretion of the Jackson School of Geosciences (JSG) Dean with input from the librarian at the Walter Geology Library.
The endowment recognizes Trombatore’s
career at The University of Texas at Austin in building one of the great
geosciences collections in the nation, as well as his work supporting the
research, teaching and learning of those in pursuit of understanding of the
earth sciences at the university.
“He has carefully amassed invaluable
collections, developed state-of-the art services and built a sense of community
for the Jackson School family,” said Mosher. “Dennis Trombatore’s tireless
efforts have touched the lives of every student, research scientist, faculty,
and staff member who has had the pleasure of knowing him. The Jackson School
wouldn’t be what it is without Dennis’s commendable efforts, for which I am
profoundly thankful.”
Trombatore received his B.A. (’75) and MLS (’77) from Louisiana State University, and joined the University of Texas Libraries in 1985 after working in librarian positions at Loyola University and The University of Georgia at Athens. He has served as head librarian at the Walter Geology Library for over three decades, and has participated on numerous committees and at conferences in a variety of capacities. Trombatore has also been recognized for his ongoing contributions to the university, including with the Distinguished Service Award from the Department of Geological Sciences (1997), the University of Texas Staff Excellence Award (2001), the Jackson School of Geosciences Staff Excellence Award (2006), the William B. Heroy Award for Distinguished Service to the American Geosciences Institute (AGI, 2012) and the Jackson School of Geosciences Joseph C. Walter Jr. Excellence Award (2018). He is a member of GSA and the Geoscience Information Society, and is past president of the Austin Geological Society.
On a trajectory for greatness from a young age. A proud Dennis Trombatore with his rock collection, circa 1966.
“Illuminating Explorations” – This series of digital exhibits is designed to promote and celebrate UT Libraries collections in small-scale form. The exhibits will highlight unique materials to elevate awareness of a broad range of content. “Illuminating Explorations” will be created and released over time, with the intent of encouraging use of featured and related items, both digital and analog, in support of new inquiries, discoveries, enjoyment and further exploration.
I’m proud to wrap up the UT Libraries triptych of zine exhibits with Weird and Wonderful Little Books: An Abbreviated History of Chapbooks Published in Austin. My colleagues Daniel Arbino and Sydney Kilgore released their exhibits earlier this year, featuring selections from the zine collections from the Fine Arts Library and the Benson Latin American Collection. Zines have a reputation for being edgy and subversive and are associated with punk and anarchist politics. That reputation at first blush doesn’t seem to align with poetry, but poetry chapbooks and zines have an intertwined history. (See our blog post “Have You Zine It?” for further discussion of these intersections between chapbooks and zines.)
Chapbooks have a curious history. Some scholars argue that the term is a combination of “cheap books” and “chapmen.” (Chapmen were traveling salesmen who wandered England and Scotland with thin, paper-bound books throughout the early Modern era, circa 1500-1800.)[1] The current iteration of the American poetry chapbook is a distinctly 20th century phenomenon, linked to the technological advances of photocopying, desktop publication, and the internet. The UT Poetry Center in the Perry-Castañeda Library includes local poetry chapbooks from the last 40 years. My new online exhibit presents features this collection, with chapbooks from different small presses operating in Austin.
Cover of the poetry chapbook Night Diner: A Report to Edward Hopper by Albert Huffstickler. Cover art by Rob Lewis.
These little books play a profound role in poetry communities because they allow authors to share their work with their readers and fellow writers cheaply and easily. Writers can bypass the elitism and bureaucracy of boutique presses and mainstream publishing companies by self-publishing chapbooks or working with small local presses. These books, then, come with small price tags. Writers often only recoup their production costs, and some give their chapbooks away for free.[2]
This version
of a literary gift economy has been alive in Austin since the 1970s. Many
outsiders might assume that Austin’s art and culture begins and ends with live
music, but Central Texas has a vibrant literary culture, built by dedicated
writers and small press editors. This exhibit features chapbooks from the late
70s and early 80s that showcase Austin’s counter-culture and feminist voices,
while contemporary examples represent the diversity of writers in this growing
city, especially those from marginalized backgrounds.
By
highlighting the presses, their editors, and, of course, the writers, I hope to
bring to life and document Austin’s literary community. Emmalea Russo and
Michael Newton, poets and small press editors, argue that chapbooks create “a
space for makers to come together and look at each other’s work. So much of the
value of poetry is the community that comes out of it—both in terms of
relationships and as a way to discover new ideas. It means everything.” I hope
that you will find these selections by Austin writers represent a community
where poetry does, indeed, mean everything.[3]
Cover of the poetry chapbook The Queen’s Glory and the Pussy’s Box by Ebony Stewart. Cover art by RaShae L.A. Bell.
[1] Woodcock,
Diana Gwen. “The Poetry Chapbook: Blessing or Curse?” International Journal of the Book 8, no. 3 (2011): 27.
[3] “Emmalea
Russo and Michael Newton on Ugly Duckling Presse.” Poetry Society of America, n.d.
https://poetrysociety.org/features/q-a-chapbook-publishers/emmalea-russo-and-michael-newton-on-ugly-duckling-presse.
In fall of 2018, the Libraries welcomed the first class of The Consuelo Artaza and Dr. Carlos Castañeda Diversity Alliance Residency Program who arrived for a 2-year term. Residents Laura Tadena and Natalie Hill spent the last year+ in rotations with various units for an immersive experience in librarianship, and though their terms haven’t yet expired, both earned the sort of attention that generated interest from other institutions wanting to lure them to professional opportunity. While we’re sad to see them leave, we’re extremely proud of the work they put in during their time at UT, and for the extensive contributions they made to what we do.
Hill and Tadena sat with me to reflect on their experience during their residencies, and to share their impressions of the program and the knowledge they gained.
Natalie Hill and Laura Tadena.
Tex Libris: What is the
main value or biggest takeaway you have from participating in the program?
Laura Tadena: I
think for me it was learning about all the resources that we have access to or
that are available for the state, and really wanting to share that information
with others. Coming into this, I wasn’t familiar with the Texas State Library.
I also didn’t realize how many libraries are open and free to the public,
especially academic and college libraries. So, I think the most valuable thing
for me was learning that and really refining my information literacy skills.
Now I feel equipped to really find information in a way that I wasn’t before,
especially research and reference skills. I did chat, which was part of
learning UT’s system, and then we ended up doing a lot of presentations
together, which required a lot of research that recalled the knowledge I learned
in school and put it into practice in a professional setting. And seeing how
some of the other librarians in action, how they do their jobs, and being like,
“Wow…that’s how you get information.”
Rachel Winston and Natalie Hill.
Natalie Hill: My
big takeaway is knowing how the library works at multiple levels, and how
information is communicated. Rotating between the different areas and being on
all of the listservs, even after I’ve left an area, has been really interesting
to see when people find things out about what’s going on. The experience has
really encouraged me to go into leadership, which isn’t something I had
strongly considered before. Now I want to do that.
TL: Do you feel like you
gained some confidence from your time here?
NH: For sure.
TL: That’s a huge
value, if you can walk into a place feeling like a visitor, and walk away
thinking, “I can do this.”
NH: I think
meeting directly with (Libraries’ Director) Lorraine Haricombe a few times was
really valuable, and having her provide encouragement…when she says you can
do something, you think, “Yeah, I can, if she thinks I can.” So it was a big confidence boost.
TL: You have both done a
lot of presentations in your time here, and that comes along with the
territory, being in the residency program, but not all of the presentations
were required as a component of your positions as resident; they were elective.
Was that interest in presenting something you brought to your work here, or was
it a byproduct of the confidence you’ve talked about gaining in your time at
the Libraries?
NH: I think it
was after we got here. Presentations were what I was least looking forward to.
And now I’m like, “These are easy.”
LT: I think that
one of the things that kind of started it was when we had a window into the
hiring process, and saw what the CVs, resumés and cover letters looked like. We
realized that we needed to get that sort of activity into our CV to be able to
compete in the market. And so we put a bunch of submissions out thinking we
weren’t going to get accepted…
NH: We thought it
would be harder to get accepted…
LT: We also
recognized a higher value in presenting papers or being included in panels as
opposed to other forms of presentation.
TL: Did the experience
meet your expectations?
NH: I didn’t
fully know what I wanted to do when I started, but I felt it would have
something to do with open education. So being able to call myself the open
education librarian, and write my own job was great. So, in that way the
experience exceeded my expectations — especially with the development work
behind open education going on simultaneously, to see it becoming a real
strategic initiative within the organization and to be part of it as that was
happening.
LT: I think
coming into this, I initially thought I was going to be doing more outreach and
connecting with the student body, so learning how academic libraries work was
what exceeded my expectations. And the access we had to professional
development was incredible. We had opportunities to go to professional
conferences, and I got practice in applying for scholarships. I came in here
wanting to find ways to serve Texas, and I think I leave here now with a better
foundation for doing that.
NH: I think one
thing I didn’t expect was being known in the field. And I feel like now people
know us – probably as a pair, not necessarily as individuals – but, still
that’s bizarre. It’s kind of strange to be familiar to people in positions of
leadership.
Hill and Tadena with fellow diversity residents.
TL: This is a nascent
program that didn’t have a lot of predetermined direction when you came in, and
you’ve had a chance to steer it in a way.
LT: We didn’t
expect to start a Slack space for various diversity residents across the
country, but there are ACRL liaisons contacting us about the development of
that. We’re being brought on as mentors for other residents. So it’s rewarding
to be able to give back to the profession.
NH: Laura met
with the iSchool to try to set up presentation opportunities for students.
LT: I also met
with the dean of my alma mater who’s been recruiting me to teach there. I
didn’t realize that as library schools are moving more towards an information
science orientation, there is a shortage of public school librarians, resulting
in a shortage of people who can teach about school librarianship. Someone told
me – I think it was Portia (Vaughn, previous science liaison) – that every
opportunity should lead to another opportunity, and I’ve found that it does
tend to happen if you are open to talking with people and seeing if you can
meet each other’s needs and trying to think ahead.
TL: What was the benefit
of getting to work with professionals in librarianship?
NH: I worked with
Colleen Lyon (Head of Scholarly Communications) most of the time that I’ve been
here, and that’s been really beneficial because she really knows what she’s
doing.
LT: I think that working with Porcia (Vaughn, former Liaison Librarian for Biosciences) and Carolyn (Cunningham, Head of Teaching and Learning Engagement Team), they have a way of communicating with you and teaching you – the had a way of teaching you how to do things, including the decisions behind their methods; it was extremely helpful and not something that everyone naturally does. Carolyn was really helpful in navigating internal and institutional frameworks, and Porcia helped with the external opportunities, like connecting with other STEM librarians, introducing me to other networks to get involved in of which I was unaware. And through our residence space, we learned about what was happening at other libraries.
Porcia Vaughan, Laura Tadena and Natalie Hill.
TL: What was something
you didn’t know about libraries before that you know now?
NH: I didn’t know
anything about instructional design, and now I’m going to be an instructional
designer. At the time we came in, job postings in the field suggested that
people were looking for assessment and instructional design experience, and I
was like, “I don’t really care about either of those things.” But,
working in open education, I realized that I was drifting away from
affordability arguments, and toward student engagement and being able to adapt
materials to better serve users, and those are really just instructional design
principles. So, open pedagogy is what I want to do now.
LT: I really
didn’t understand how academic libraries operated, big picture stuff. I think
one of the biggest things I learned was how we provide services to our
community. And what, as librarians, we’re able to do. I didn’t know that there
was a state library that did just professional development. And I didn’t know
about AMIGOS which does professional development support for all libraries.
That area of the profession is very interesting to me because of my instruction
background, and so I’m excited to be able to take that forward and support all
types of libraries.
NH: I don’t think
I knew about how professional associations work before this, and having the ARL
president here (Haricombe), I now know what the ARL does, which has been really
valuable, because you can see where broader initiatives start then trickle out
to the rest of field in succeeding years.
LT: And how
committees operate, because we’re getting practical experience.
TL: What advice would you
give to someone who was considering applying to a residency program like this?
NH: Know that the
program is for you, so if there’s not going to be a lot of flexibility or
freedom, maybe consider another option. I think that we’ve been really
fortunate here in that coming in as the first class of residents, it was pretty
unstructured, and people were pretty willing to say yes to ideas. We’ve seen
where other residency programs have a set job description and I don’t think
something like that would be anywhere near as valuable an experience.
LT: My suggestion
would be to connect with other residents — to learn about what they are doing
and use that to help support what you are doing or to create your own agency,
and advocate for your own benefit within the program. Because being part of it is
about learning, and I think we’ve seen a lot of residents in positions where
they don’t know they can ask for more, or they aren’t aware that they have some
control over their experience and what they gain from it. We’ve been fortunate
to have the opportunity – as long as it ties to our growth and development – to
help shape our own experience.
TL: What do you think can
be done to improve the experience for future residents?
LT: Cohort models
are nice. I don’t know that this program would have been as beneficial for us
if there was just one of us. It was a great experience to be able to have
someone to go to talk with about the shared experience, to have someone that
you’re constantly able to check in with. And, then again, to have someone available
to bounce ideas off of was helpful, especially since the program is a safe
space. Moving forward, I would recommend that there are at least two residents
at the same level, or at least in a cohort model that is closer together.
Having a buddy is good. And having great mentors.
NH: Maybe there
could be a refresher for staff on what the program intent is. Because it’s up
to the individual resident what interest within the organization they choose to
pursue, they could end up in any area, even one that may have not had previous
experience with a resident. We stayed in pretty public-facing academic
engagement roles, but maybe someone else would be really interested in
technical services. So just a reminder that it could go any way. And keeping
the door open so that residents can go anywhere within the library that appeals
to them, because that is what makes this program unique from other ones.
TL: What’s next for each
of you?
LT: I will be the
inclusive services consultant at the Texas State Library and Archives
Commission, and I’ll be working for the first year with public libraries,
helping to train staff and ensure that they have adequate resources to provide
inclusive services. My future supervisor has said that the hope is to expand
the role and potentially bring my work into both school and college/academic
libraries. I’m looking forward to the type of work that I’m going to do. It’s
another job that I don’t really know what I’m getting into, but I’m excited
because of the great things I’ve heard about the State Library. And I’ll be
close by.
NH: I will be an
instructional designer with the University of New England in Portland, Maine,
and I will be on a team of instructional designers within the College of
Graduate and Professional Studies, which is made of fully online graduate programs.
So, I will be working with faculty and subject matter experts to develop new
online courses and provide quality assurance and redesigns for existing courses.
I think that my specialty on the team will be promoting open educational
resources and moving those to the forefront in the course creation process.
LT: Outside of
our future roles, we’re also going to be working on a book chapter with (new diversity
resident) Adriana Casarez on the residency program, and we’ll be presenting at
TLA together, on a panel about residencies in Texas.
NH: Then,
hopefully, the goal is to come up with an ACRL proposal so that we can do that
in 2021.
TL: Congratulations on be
the first class and being first class.
Ada Lovelace was a pioneering computer scientist
and mathematician of the 19th century. Since 2009, on the second Tuesday in
October individuals around the country and globe gather to celebrate Ada Lovelace Day by commemorating her life and raising the profile of women and
LGBTQ+ persons in the STEM fields. To honor her legacy, a group of librarians
at UT planned and facilitated a daylong Wikipedia Edit-a-thon scheduled for
October 8, 2019.
Beginning in earnest in mid-August, four
librarians including Gina Bastone, Roxanne Bogucka, Lydia Fletcher, and myself
sat together at a table in the Physics, Math and Astronomy Library to
brainstorm ideas and organize what would turn out to be an amazing experience
and very meaningful event. The event drew more than 45 participants from across
campus to learn about the Wikipedia editing process and get inaugural edits
under their belts.
To organize a successful Edit-a-thon event
requires considerable planning in addition to forethought and purpose. Some of
the initial goals were to improve the visibility of women in STEM fields, to
teach first-time editors the quirks of Wikipedia editing, and to democratize
the process of editing Wikipedia, which itself is largely contributed to by cis
white men. Creating an accessible and drop-in event where folks could learn
something, grab some food, and edit in between classes was also a priority.
Starting the research process, identifying useful Wikipedia-friendly sources on
top of creating content was a high order to meet in addition to orienting
participants to the editing process. Reflecting on our cumulative past
experience it was agreed that structuring the event to be largely self-guided
was the best approach. Recognizing that the average participant may spend about
an hour between classes at the Edit-a-thon, librarians identified pages that
required editing and organizing sources ahead of time, focusing specifically on
local women in STEM. We reached out to campus groups such as Women in Physics,
Gender & Sexuality Center, and CNS-Q, who proved helpful by
enthusiastically providing support in word of mouth and extra sustenance on the
day of the Edit-a-thon.
One of the event organizers guides a participant through the structure of a Wikipedia article.
We organized the day through a system of Google Drive links and physical sticky notes to ensure that only one person would be editing one article at a time, while retaining the ability to have more than one contributor to each article on the day. Using this system of sticky notes to identify topics for editing, each person would grab a note with a unique scientist’s name off the board, hold on to it while editing that topic and then return it to the board if the entry still needed further edits. The Google Drive folder contained supporting material for our selected topics in addition to a wealth of curated training documents. Many of these training documents were reused and can be reused again in the future. These tools allowed us to plan and coordinate an event without having a required time for a formal demonstration.
Three of the event organizers standing in front of the whiteboard used to organize topics.
The Edit-a-thon was wildly successful and drew
participation from many first-time editors in the College of Natural Sciences.
While the turnout was better than we had expected, the true success was in the
feedback. All of the respondents to our survey agreed that they had learned
about editing Wikipedia and the construction of articles at the event, and 87%
said that they plan to continue editing into the future. The goals of the
planning group had been met and exceeded, encouraging us to run further events
teaching the ins and outs of contributing to Wikipedia.
Being that he has a refined sense of both words and music, Whit seems like a good candidate for exploring and discovering some overlooked gems in the trove, and so in this occasional series, he’ll be presenting some of his noteworthy finds.
Brooklyn’s Parts & Labor droned and thrashed in somewhat obscurity for exactly one decade (2002-2012), but left behind an impressive slab of noise pop albums in the vein of early Hüsker Dü, or a more song-oriented Lightning Bolt. Stay Afraid pushes the faders all the way up with its scorched earth feedback and fuzz, its electronica squeal and hyper-manic drumming, but those sugar-sweet vocal hooks are still up there in the mix (somehow!) front and center.
Selvidge, the late great Mississippi Renaissance Man (songwriter/anthropologist/radio producer/record label owner), graciously bequeaths us this collection of Americana classics, with a couple of topnotch originals to boot. His protean vocals moan and yodel on country standards such as Long Black Veil and Swannanoa Tunnel, then growl and screech on old-time rocker Real Thing. Recorded in his adopted hometown of Memphis with gorgeous and understated production by the legendary Jim Dickinson, the songs drip with Delta sincerity, simultaneously breaking the heart while nurturing the lovesick soul.
Avant pop singer-songwriter Shara Nova (previously Worden) simply sparkles and shines as My Brightest Diamond. Utilizing her classical voice training from the University of North Texas, Nova served as guest/backup vocalist for the likes of Sufjan Steven, The Decemberists, Laurie Anderson, and David Byrne. But on her debut studio album, Bring Me The Workhorse, she combines these masterful vocals with a slightly skewed, shadowy songcraft that presents something uniquely her own. The etherealness of Kate Bush; the edginess of PJ Harvey. A Goth pop instant classic.
NYC pianist and McCoy Tyner acolyte Cary leads his Focus Trio (bassist David Ewell, drummer/percussionist Sameer Gupta) into jazz hinterlands on this mesmerizing concert recording. A droning intonation of Monk’s classic ‘Round Midnight starts things off, then the trio lets things unravel artfully with intense originals. Cary’s piano beseeches us to hear those notes between the notes while his rhythm section hard bops like a most welcome punch in the gut. Gupta’s classical Indian tabla is highlighted on KC Bismillah Khan, and audio of Malcolm X and Dr. King speeches weave their way in to the mix (Runnin’ Out of Time, and Slow Blues for MLK), adding a historical gravitas to what is already a truly heavy experience. Metaphysical, moving, and masterful.
The Soledad Brothers were White Stripes garage rock fellow travelers back in the day (guitarist Johnny Walker taught Jack White how to play slide, while White produced their debut album). Having said that, the Ohio natives became more Sticky Fingers than Seven Nation Army. Their third album, Voice of Treason, finds them not only stomping and hollering tried and true swaggering blues, but also mellowing out on tracks such as the sweet and soulful Muscle Shoals-inspired Only Flower In My Bed, or the acoustic Delta-tinged Sons of Dogs. Dig that warm analog tape sound captured by UK producer Liam Watson.
[Harold Whit Williams is a Content Management Specialist in Music & Multimedia Resources. He writes poetry, is guitarist for the critically acclaimed rock band Cotton Mather, and releases lo-fi guitar-heavy indie pop as DAILY WORKER.]
Traveling internationally to secure unique and distinctive
acquisitions for UT Libraries and to make essential academic connections for UT
Austin is one of the true joys of serving as Middle Eastern Studies Librarian.
In June of this year, I traveled to Istanbul, Turkey, for two weeks. I focused
on collecting Arabic titles published in Turkey and investigating study abroad
opportunities for graduate students in the Middle East and Islamic Studies programs
at UT.
I had the pleasure of flying into the brand new Istanbul airport, located on the opposite side of the city from the stalwart Atatürk Airport that I knew so well. I arrived at the end of Ramadan, which meant that I got to enjoy Bayram (the Turkish name for the festival celebrating the end of Ramadan) sales. I stayed in the neighborhood of Kuzgüncuk, a small, religiously diverse section of the city on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, just before the first bridge. There were several local book and magazine sellers, as well as produce vendors. It was from one of the local produce vendors that I learned of a children’s bookfair happening on the Asian side of the city, and I made a plan to visit it in the coming days.
A Turkish produce stand.
While in Istanbul, I was able to receive a title for which I
had been hunting in Egypt, Majallat al-Qaḍāʾ al-Sharʿī. There are only a
handful of copies of this title around the world; yet, it is a crucial source
for the social and legal history of early 20th century Egypt. So what makes a “rare” book in Islamic Studies, like this one?
Researchers at U.S. universities
may often conceptualize a rare book as something necessarily old, a “first
edition,” a banned title, etc. These are all potential markers of a rare book
or special material, but they are not the only factors that librarians consider
when making acquisitions for their collections. Consider government/official
publications. They are often ephemeral in that they arere published for one run; they are often difficult to find because they are
seen as an archival burden for someone else (presumably the government or
organization); and, on top of all that, they may on the surface appear dull,
dry, or irrelevant to deep (particularly historiographical) analysis. Even if
one decides to go after government publications, it can be nearly impossible to
track them down for these reasons. When I do manage to track them down, I’m
often asked, why this?
Thanks to this acquisitions
trip, I managed to obtain a copy of Majallat
al-Qaḍāʾ al-Sharʿī, a briefly-issued
publication of a judicial training school in Alexandria. It includes articles
by figures who would end up shaping the Egyptian judiciary for decades to come,
and provides insights into the political history of early 20th century Egypt.
Cautiously, I may say that the UT Libraries will
be the sole North American institution with the full set of volumes for this
title (they are in processing now).
During my time in Istanbul, I also had opportunities to explore
new and old publications and to learn more about the current frontiers of
Islamic and Middle Eastern Studies scholarship. I visited the Hilye-i Şerif ve Tesbih
Müzesi (museum of manuscripts honoring the Prophet Muhammad, and prayer beads)
to see excellent exhibits of stunning manuscript illumination and religious
arts. I also stopped in to the official government Turkish manuscripts
publications office to check on the latest Arabic
and Ottoman editing developments. Additionally, I had the pleasure of meeting
up with a PhD candidate from Princeton University, to hear about her research
and projects and to get the impressions of a junior scholar on the state of
research in Turkey and other parts of the Middle East.
Dale and graduate student Nadirah Mansour.
Dale at the Yayinlar office.
As my trip continued, I reflected on how book buying can be
simply wandering around––somewhat aimlessly––and relying on serendipity
(although I admit to wandering neighborhoods known for bookshops; I cannot
leave everything up for chance). I found myself in awe of the materials
selection available in the average bookshop.
Stopping in at one in Üsküdar (Asian side of Istanbul), I found books in Turkish,
Arabic, French, English, and German; translations of seminal works such as the
biography of Muhammad Ali; Turkish conference proceedings that fill gaps in our
collection; a large and diverse children’s section; premier Turkish Studies
scholarship; and popular hero fiction.
There was a sign in the bookshop that read “3 books, 10 Turkish
lira.” The shelves below it were a gold mine of popular fiction that will
augment UT Austin’s Turkish literature collection and expand the options for
our students to read during their intensive study of the Turkish language. I
was able to procure them at a fraction of the price we would normally pay
through other venues.
A book about mythical hero Battal Gazi Oglu.
Additionally, I had the pleasure of meeting up with Murteza
Bedir, Dean of the Faculty of Divinity and Professor at Istanbul University. We
spoke about our research projects, upcoming conferences, recent publications in
Islamic Studies, and Turkish Islamic Studies graduate programs.
Dale with Murteza Bedir, Dean of the Faculty of Divinity and Professor at Istanbul University.
Professor Bedir also took me to the symposium on the history of
science in honor of the late Fuat Sezgin at Istanbul University. Scholars from
around the world—Turkey, U.S., Uzbekistan, and others—presented their latest
research and reflected on Sezgin’s contributions to the field. It was quite a
time to be in Istanbul.
Correa with Professor Bedir at an exhibit honoring Dr. Fuat Sezgin.
I continued my work making critical connections as the PCL and the UT Libraries Middle Eastern Studies librarian for
both collections and scholarship opportunities by meeting with Recep Şentürk,
professor of sociology and president of Ibn Haldun University in Istanbul, and
some of his advanced graduate students. We met at the university’s Süleymaniye
campus, housed in an Ottoman-era madrasa next to the Süleymaniye Mosque,
following their class on Abu Hamid al-Ghazali’s Ihya’ ‘Ulum al-Din.
Professor Şentürk knows of my interest in Arabic critical editions produced in
Turkey, and graciously brought the first publication of the Ibn Haldun
University Press—Mulla Gurani’s commentary on the Qur’an—to share with the UT
Libraries. UT is the first university library in the world to acquire this
edition, and I look forward to following the publications of this new press.
Collection of Mulla Gurani’s commentary on the Qur’an.
Correa receiving Mulla Gurani’s commentary on the Qur’an from Professor Recep Şentürk.
I am grateful for, and awestruck by, the generosity and
hospitality with which I was met in Turkey, and which made my trip possible. I
extend my sincere gratitude to the UT Libraries and the Center for Middle
Eastern Studies for supporting my travel and acquisitions in Istanbul this
year.
Despite his spare frame and quiet demeanor, Greg Lipscomb isn’t a wallflower, especially regarding his thoughts on the subject of libraries.
“The library is just in my veins,” he says. “I cannot imagine living in a society or a culture that doesn’t have a library.”
Lipscomb is the incoming chair of the UT Libraries’ Advisory Council and has just committed to a large planned gift for the Libraries, so I’m sitting with him to find out why.
Greg Lipscomb.
He begins by recounting the period during his study at UT in the early 1960s when a confluence of history and wanderlust compelled him in a direction that would ultimately lead him on a fifty-year journey away from Austin, on an odyssey of professional work and travel that would brush against events of notable historical significance.
“It was at the end of 1961 – the end of my sophomore year – I was over in one of the massive reading rooms in the Tower with the beams above and the wide tables and so forth, and at the end of finals, I stood up and I went out and took on the world as best I could see it in my own interpretation,” says Lipscomb, “and I was gone from that sort of setting for 50 years.”
Lipscomb expresses that he wasn’t walking away from his college career or academic endeavor forever – he went on to graduate Phi Beta Kappa from UT – but the draw of civic responsibility was too compelling to ignore. This was the time of John Kennedy’s clarion call to public service, and the cacophony of protest was growing audibly across the campus.
“You have to realize that in the 60s, you could literally be in class — many times we had the windows open because there wasn’t air conditioning — and you could hear civil rights demonstrations out on Guadalupe,” he says. “And there was this pull. John Kennedy was in office and he was making politics elegant again for the first time since Roosevelt. And the notion of public service was big.”
The urge to be part of something larger than himself became too strong to dodge, and led him down a five-decade path which presented the opportunities that ultimately formed him as a person.
“I felt the need to play a concrete role in the changes that were happening, so I got involved in student politics,” he recounts. “I got involved in civil rights. I went off to the army because of Vietnam. I went around the world. I went to California and worked for Jerry Brown. Went to Washington and worked for the Democrats there. Went to Harvard for the Kennedy School,”
Lipscomb became an active leader in the student civil rights protests at UT, was elected student body president in 1964, and used his standing to make the final push to get the regents to integrate the dorms on campus. He and a carload of his journalism colleagues from The Daily Texan drove 800 miles to document the fateful march at Selma, Alabama. As a member of ROTC, Lipscomb landed in an intelligence unit at the Pentagon during the war in Vietnam. After hitchhiking around the world with his wife, he worked at the San Francisco Chronicle, which propelled him into California politics, including a position in Governor Jerry Brown’s administration. He later returned to D.C. as a speechwriter for the first African American chair of the Federal Communications Commission. Any pairing of these life events might be enough to mention; that they’re woven into a single period of a single life is remarkable.
Amid his extended interlude in the Beltway at the FCC, Lipscomb began to seek distraction through some of the intellectual rigor that he left behind in college. He surveyed his environs and eventually wound up bumping around the library at George Washington University (GWU). After being given broad access to resources there, he felt an obligation to do what he could to return the favor, and approached the library’s development office to make a donation. Library administrators thought that as someone with no significant ties to GWU, Lipscomb might provide a valuable perspective as chair of their advisory board. His acceptance of that role enjoined him to a cause in libraries.
“Several years later, I decided retirement was timely. I was burned out on Washington. It had changed in temperament.”
The experience at GWU also elicited a change in him. Lipscomb summoned the earlier version of himself, making a conscious attempt to return to the point in time when he walked out of the library back in 1961 to take on the world. He wanted to find a place to settle where he would have ready access to the knowledge resources of a library, and began to consider all the familiar places from his past.
“And then, in 2014, I came back to Austin and I sat down at the same place and picked right up where I left off. What I was reading, what I was writing,” he says. “It’s like T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets – ‘in my beginning is my end,’” says Lipscomb.
Lipscomb personifies this internalized value as “The Eternal Sophomore.” “That’s the kind of mindset I say with affection. You’re on the precipice, but your mind is still fresh, your attitude is fresh. And I saw the library reading room as a sort of cathedral, a sacred space. That’s sort of where I came back and picked up.”
“Coming back was a huge decision, and I came back humbled – and a little appalled at my arrogance sometimes along the way. Also proud of certain things and people I worked with, and causes I worked on. But I was ready to keep learning as a sophomore.”
And some undergraduates on campus might recognize him as a fixture in their world, or, perhaps, as a fellow traveler. Lipscomb’s loyalty to self-improvement through learning means he spends a significant chunk of his time on campus, much of it on the upper floors of the Perry-Castañeda Library.
“Within the closures of this building – if I had food and medicine – I could be here indefinitely,” he says. “Right now I spend about 20 hours a week – it’s a part-time job. I got up to that writing some personal stuff and just catching up on all the reading I never got to, the great reading.”
Lipscomb continued to feel a responsibility to the Libraries when he returned to Austin, wanting to carry through on the advocacy role he’d taken on at George Washington. He expressed interest to administrators at the UT Libraries, and was invited to join the council in 2014 where he has been a consistent participant not only at regular meetings, but as a vocal proponent and supporter both on campus and beyond.
Still, Lipscomb’s primary drive is in discovery and personal growth. That lengthy period of working on behalf of others has earned him the opportunity to focus on his interests, and he’s taking full advantage of it.
“The library to me is a great conversation,” he says. “I think of it in terms of books – but these books, they talk back and forth. And you can tell the mentor and the mentee — like in a translation of The Iliad or something — one passes on to the other. It’s the DNA of ideas. You can start out with just a germ of a phrase and watch it blossom into something right there.”
But even the bibliophile in Lipscomb recognizes the value of a diverse array of resources. He’s spoken extensively with library professionals about the transition to digital resources and the advantage it gives to preservation, and he’s been in active attendance at all of the public discussions in the last year related to a task force on the future of UT Libraries, where the conversation about the value of books and the impact of technology has real currency.
He especially appreciates the benefits that technology brings to research, particularly in making discovery significantly more efficient: “You can do it digitally. That’s a different training that I’m having to come up to, but I respect it. It’s easy to say, ‘Everybody’s just channel-surfing through nothing more than a paragraph or two.’ It’s a mile wide and an inch deep. But, also, you can search, you can go backwards and forwards. Software is beginning to mimic the brain, or learning as we know it.”
Whatever the challenges that have arisen since he was an undergraduate at UT, Lipscomb feels his experience all pointed him back to this place.
“I didn’t realize back in 1961 how much had been passed on to us in terms of the resources and the staff, the wonderful reading rooms – I didn’t realize until later,” says Lipscomb. “That’s when it occurred to me that I owed something.”
“The library function, role, the sanctuary, the passing on from one culture to another – it’s an optimistic enterprise,” he continues. “It says, ‘We have here your past, which is valuable, and you have to carry it forward.’ That’s what we do in the libraries. You owe current and future generations the gratitude that you received.”
“There is almost a Buddhist sense of circularity…returning to where you started. You come back and pay respects to the master that formed you. The mentor, the habits, the patterns, the depth of thinking.”
