September 22, 2011
Last Thursday, surrounded by a crowd of students and faculty taking pictures on their iPhones, Associate Professor of Russian Frank Sciacca and Emerson Gallery Associate Director and Curator Susanna White sawed open a lead box containing papers, brochures and a woodblock print left by the class of 1871.
Part of a nineteenth-century tradition to assemble and bury time capsules, the box was one in a series of six (the other five remain unopened) showcased in the current Emerson Gallery exhibit, “Time Capsules and Cornerstones: 200 Years of Collective Memory at Hamilton.”
Time capsules themselves are a curious tradition. We take certain elements of our daily life: newspaper headlines, jars of seeds or iPods, seal them in an indestructible container and bury them in the ground, hoping that some society of the future might benefit from remnants of our own. This exhibit uses time capsules, as well as associated memorabilia from two centuries of campus life, to reconstruct the evolution of traditions and continuity at Hamilton.
In the South Gallery, a 1938 radio broadcast by Alexander Woolcott, class of 1909, plays on loop as a musical backdrop to the exhibit, including a recording of “Carissima” and Woolcott’s own description of the beauty of Hamilton’s wooded campus.
The artifacts on display include an assortment of photographs, framed charters from the respective foundings of Hamilton and Kirkland colleges, historical scrapbooks, T-shirts, castings for the Kirkland gate, pictures of the Chapel restoration and student canes. They are entrancing and, despite the gallery setting, poignant.
A series of photographs—ranging from daguerreotypes to digital prints—depicting students around campus is almost stereotypically emblematic of the photographs’ respective times: a 1940s picture shows young men lounging outside of Christian-Johnson, dressed in military fatigues and caps; the 1970s see students in what appears to be a sit-in on the Clinton village green; a group of darkened faces stand around a bed of candles during 9/11 memorial service in 2001. On the far right, a long panoramic print shows the class of 2015 on their first day of orientation.
Though the photographs are decades apart and trace the vast changes in the College’s history (for instance, the 1970s prints show women on campus for the first time), the students themselves change very little: they have the same smiles, the same way of standing, the same sense of eager youthfulness.
This sense of collective spirit runs throughout the exhibit. On one wall, T-shirts display slogans and designs from different events and occasions (one is white with green lettering and reads, “Living Together is Better than Getting Married—Hamilton and Kirkland Colleges”). On another, carved canes mark different societies, events and, of course, commencement.
Part of the exhibit focuses on our attempts to memorialize certain campus traditions or events. A case in the far corner contains students’ letters-to-self, written during their Adirondack Adventure pre-orientation, with directions as to when the letter should be delivered to the student (one envelope reads “Grand Traverse!” and orders the bearer to deliver it on the day of the student’s graduation, in May 2012). Another case contains elements from the centennial in 1912, including a foil-wrapped cigar with the instruction that it should last for 100 years.
The North and West Galleries contain a second exhibit: “Hamilton’s Cabinets, Galleries and Museums: Past, Present and Future,” which chronicles the history of archives and museums on campus, leading up to the new Ruth and Elmer Wellin Museum, which is currently under construction and set for a fall 2012 opening.
The past art spaces have included the collections of Owen Root, class of 1833, once housed in Buttrick and recreated here with shelves of “curiosities,” including birds, shells and historical artifacts. Photographs of other spaces, including the Memorial Hall and Art gallery (1873-1914), once housed in the old library that is now Minor Theater, the Edward W. Root Art Center (1958-1982) and finally the Emerson Art Gallery, line the walls.
It is fitting that this should be one of the last major exhibits mounted in the Emerson Gallery, as the space will close this winter in preparation for the upcoming move to the new museum. The Wellin Museum, which will include open storage (sample cases are on display in the North Gallery) and seminar rooms for student curation, will stand as the College’s first true art museum.
Back in the South Gallery, a black laptop sits on a pedestal by the door. It is placed next to a time capsule in-progress, in which students can leave suggestions or objects they wish to put into the box that will be opened for the College’s Tercentennial in 2112. So far, the box holds a copy of USA Today’s 9/11 commemorative issue, gift certificates to Opus, a vial of corn from the 1812 garden and brochures from the bicentennial. The computer will be part of this commemoration, and has a sign that invites visitors to write their relation to the college, class year, and “how you want to be remembered.”
I paused for a while in front of this last time capsule, hesitated for a moment over the keys and then turned away, promising myself to return.
As we strive to memorialize, commemorate and gather our Hamilton experiences into a single collective thread—a way to both remember the past and anticipate a shining future—one thing remains clear: Pieces of history may help us to see the school’s legacy, and time capsules may contain elements of a forgotten past, but the very best parts of Hamilton (and, indeed, of life) are those which refuse to be buried underground.