Photo Credit: Jennie Anne Benigas
  

 

 JUDY'S JOURNAL

July/August 2018

According to Wikipedia, an archivist (AR-kiv-ist) is an information professional who assesses, collects, organizes, preserves, maintains control over, and provides access to records and archives determined to have long-term value.

 

 


The Royal Treatment

 Dear Reader,

I had to open with an objective definition of this very special breed of human being called archivist, because I am too much in love with what they do to maintain my cool.

I am fortunate to have Rodney Gormé Obien and Renée Fox as friends who also are archivists; he is Head of Special Collections and Archives at Keene State College, and she is Collections Manager at the Canterbury Shaker Village in New Hampshire. Rodney and I met in 2003, when I had an art exhibition at Worcester Polytechnic Institute’s George C. Gordon Library, where he was Special Collections Librarian. Getting to know Rodney and Renée gave me a special appreciation for their vocation as keepers of our cultural treasures.

In 2009, when I began to study the life and poems of Stanley Kunitz, there was no doubt that access to archives would become necessary. Searching on-line records saves time and money but cannot compare to walking into a hallowed reading room and meeting a staff of dedicated archivists. They not only know that you are coming, but they have readied specific materials for you to study. In other words, they offer you The Royal Treatment.

The optimal archival experience comes with a high level of preparation for both archivist and researcher. On-line data bases offer tantalizing titles, organized by box and folder numbers: writers’ notebooks, correspondence, photographs, drafts of poems you have appreciated only in their published versions – treasures you could only imagine and hoped existed.

After filling out an application and writing a description of your research that emphasizes the connection between it and their special collections, you provide a list of specific collection requests.

Part of the royal treatment includes the library’s description of what to expect once you arrive on site. You may feel like a fictional character seeking admission to a sacred or enchanted space (which it undoubtedly is). Entrances to reading rooms could be in the “north end” of another room (I panicked and wondered if I should carry a compass) - “when you are in front of the glass doors, please knock and wait for a staff member.” Or “please ring the buzzer on the door’s left-hand side for access.” My pre-visit nightmares had a lot of mazes and locked doors.

Once your application has been approved, email communication between you and the archivists begins. By the time your arrival date comes, you will feel as if you know these special people. You will begin to get used to the way that extreme care and respect feels. Your excitement builds day by day, as you anticipate what you may find in this rare and privileged setting.

To enter and work in the research reading rooms, you will be bound by rules, both exacting and reasonable:

  • Coats, bags and all belongings must be checked in a coatroom or locker, except for loose-leaf paper and pencils (and in some cases laptops and cameras, depending on the site). You may be asked for proof of your research appointment, such as an email, to show to the coat check staff before you can enter the restricted area.

  • Personal items are subject to examination by library staff as you enter and leave the reading room. You may be given a clear “researcher bag” to store personal items.

  • You may be asked to wash your hands before entering the reading room. If not, you may be asked to wear white gloves to handle certain materials, such as slides or photographs.

  • You may be advised to wear a sweater, as they tend to keep the rooms on the cool side.
    Finally, when your first day arrives, take time to look at your surroundings – richly carved wood, glass doors fronting precious volumes, reading lamps, tables that you wish could talk and tell you who sat in the same chair, quietly reading primary documents for future biographies and histories.

    There are some things you can do to get a taste of the royal treatment:

    1. Visit The New York Public Library, Stephen A. Schwarzman Building and see if there is a tour available. Even better, simply walk slowly through each floor and public room – don’t forget to look up at the gawk-worthy ceilings! Read the wall labels.

    2. See “Ex Libris: The New York Public Library” the 2017 documentary by Frederick Wiseman. It’s long (3 hours, 25 minutes) and unnarrated, which is Wiseman’s style. He actually believes that viewers can figure out what is going on without being told. There is a scene in the Berg Collection of English and American Literature, where I worked in May, but not the Brooke Russell Astor Reading Room, which does not permit filming.

    3. See if a university’s library near you has an archive and special collections room. Ask if you can find out more about it or arrange for a visit.

    4. Think about how libraries are our legacy. Do you remember your childhood neighborhood library? Check to see if it is there anymore.