Blog

Sandy

July 4, 2018

I got back a couple of days ago from Denmark, where my daughter and I spent a week as volunteer re-enactors at the Middelaldercentret open-air museum a couple of hours south of Copenhagen. What an awesome and interesting place! It made me think a lot about things we had done and issues discussed for this course.

First, I have to pay testimony to the hard work and generosity of the people who work there full time and of the volunteers. Everybody was incredibly kind to us, patiently showing the way things are done and explaining why the Center makes the choices that it does.

Like some of the open air museums we discussed in class, this one uses staff (and volunteers) dressed in period clothing, and it eschews signage. To get information, visitors must talk with re-enactors. Fortunately for my monolingual daughter and I, almost everyone -- Danes and visitors alike -- speaks good English.

The point about kindness towards volunteers is not merely pro forma. In order for the Center to operate, there has to be a working relationship between the administrative staff, the full-time re-enactors, and the volunteers. The Center provides volunteers with food and accommodation (some in modern rooms with bunk beds, some on straw mattresses in the (re)constructed houses themselves). In return, volunteers are expected to show up for the morning meeting when daily tasks are apportioned, interact with visitors appropriately, etc. As I understand it, the relationship has very occasionally been abused by less-than-diligent volunteers, resulting in a rule that no drinks with more than 15% alcohol per volume are to be brought into the Center. But the large majority of volunteers who show up many weekends, and often a week or more over summer, seem to embrace their responsibilities. In addition to administrative staff, full-time re-enactor staff, and volunteers, there are grounds and facilities staff who do much behind-the-scenes work when the center is closed. They make props (e.g. peasant heads and hands for the knights to spear in the jousting), fix and maintain buildings, and take away the 21st-century trash.

To draw the crowds, the Center does rely on a jousting event held daily over summer and 5 days a week in the shoulder season. Another crowd-pleaser takes the form of a couple of trebuchets which can fling boulders remarkable distances. School groups visit several days a week in the shoulder season. The kids get to dress in period-appropriate clothing and -- this especially interests me -- are given real and monotonous work to do. Their work period lasts for a couple of hours and is not expected to be enjoyable. Girls chop ingredients for soup, grind pastes, and clean dresses; boys chop wood, haul water, and are sent off on other tasks like picking leaves for dye. If they are lazy, they are bawled out by one of the full-time re-enactors. If they ask to change tasks, their request is refused. In short, they are expected to learn that the work of medieval children was often dull and lacked the "fun" element of learning and work today. (Can you imagine how this would go down among a group of school children and their helicopter parents in the U.S.?)

I could go on at much more length, but will confine myself to just 2 more points. First, I was impressed at the genuine effort at authenticity. There are archaeologists on staff who must vouch for any materials going into the "field" (i.e., the museum) and designated volunteers (organized into guilds) who are in charge of ensuring that people have sufficient expertise to use certain pieces of equipment (e.g., the loom). Re-enactor clothing is based very much on contemporary finds with no "cheats." Second, is this experiential or experimental? The answer, inevitably, is both. In the shoulder season there are only enough volunteers to try and staff most of the industries and thus there is little time for much else. Both being a volunteer and being a visitor is therefore largely experiential. More experimental work, as I understand it, is undertaken in the main summer months of July and August when there are more people around. Yet -- as we discovered over and over in our course -- experience and experiment are hard to separate entirely. Most of my work was based in the dyer's house (pictured below), and we experimented by boiling up the alder leaves that the school boys had been sent to collect. They resulted in a nice lemon color which in turn dyed several skeins of spindle-spun wool. The choice of alder leaves was because Elisabeth, the main dyer, had read on the internet about the color they could yield and was curious to try it out. And since visitors liked to see us boiling up something in the dyehouse, this was as good a plan as any. So experimentation was certainly present.

In short:

• Middelaldercentret would have come out really well in our class discussion on open-air museums. We discussed then the need for consistency in decisions about costumes, signage, etc. Middelaldercentret is remarkably consistent, and long-term volunteers seem to play a role in making those decisions.
• If you have a chance to do this kind of experiential work, I would definitely grab it. If nothing else, it helps you think about ways to do your experimental work. I am now strategizing about how to build a dye bench -- with set-in pots and fires below -- in my back yard.
• Experiences also help you think about the many different groups of people involved in open-air museums and the logistics of involving them all in a meaningful way. I hadn't thought much about that relationship aspect of things before.
• Finally, below are gratuitous images relating to material covered in our course from the National Museum of Danish History in Copenhagen and the Moesgaard Museum near Aarhus. The last is hard to see because of reflection from the glass, but it is of skates made from bone. Denmark is way interesting, y'all, and tickets from NYC to Copenhagen can be quite cheap (mine were about $400 going via Iceland). I only wish I'd had time to go to Lejre also. Go visit!

Jamie

May 7, 2018

I approach the last blog entry of the semester with some ambivalence. I am sad that the course is ending, and that I will not have more opportunities to spend time with this terrific class talking about and doing experimental archaeology. At the same time, I am amazed at how much material we covered, how well the course readings and experiments built on each other, and how much we accomplished and learned in a short time.

Tuesday’s class began with a strategy session about what needs to be done and what problems need to be solved to finish the burdei. The roof continues to bedevil us. We still want a sod roof, but the birch bark we need for a waterproof underlay does not grow on the property. Indeed, we saw only one, solitary birch tree during the long drive up to the Deputy Center. It was suggested we use different bark, use an artificial alternative, go without, or possibly plant the roof with ferns that grow in abundance at the DC. We will make our decision during the next lab when we have a chance to search for alternatives. We also decided that the weight of the sod might buckle the roof and so extra supports will be needed. After making a list of tools and job assignments, we turned to the readings.

We then had great fun discussing Peterssen and Narmo’s “A Journey in Time.” Students immediately understood the article to be a contribution to the experiential-experimental debate we have had all semester. The authors place themselves firmly in the experiential camp and critique the processual approach to experimental archeology advocated by Peter Reynolds for being outmoded in the world of post-processual archaeology. Most students liked the authors’ emphasis on sensory experiences and the emotions over controls and repeatability even if we could not always agree about the circumstances under which ‘authentic’ emotions would arise. When making tools, for example, does survival have to be at stake to occupy the same emotional space as our ancestors? Does tattooing one’s body provide any insights into being a Scythian warrior? Other students, notably Grace, staunchly and capably defended the scientific approach. The spontaneity and liveliness of the discussion was surprising given it was the last day of class. We devoted the last few minutes to reflecting on the course. Students seemed to agree that their appreciation for experimental archaeology derived partly from the ability to have authentic, hands on experiences in which they had to figure things out for themselves, and failure was okay. Students also indicated that they most enjoyed the lithic and bone labs because they liked being able to make, use, and test tools.

We canceled Thursday’s class to get in an extra day at the Deputy Center. Since Thursday is not our usual lab day, we understood that scheduling conflicts would prevent many from going. Four of us, Dr. Bardsley, Grace, Shane, and myself, made the trip. We spent a fair amount of time digging a pit to fire the pottery the class had made the previous week. The digging was harder than expected because the ground was stony and the temperature soared to near 90° (32 C). The sod that was removed, we took down to the burdei for roofing material. There we noticed that the wattle and daub had dried and was reassuringly solid. The two different methods of weaving wattle seem to be equally good, although time will be the real test. Still determined to use fresh bark for a roofing underlay, we tried stripping the bark from a nearby tree. Although we could not identify the tree without leaves, it had smooth bark that seemed appropriate for the purpose. Unfortunately, the bark came off in long, thin strips rather than in sheets and proved unsuitable. Abandoning that idea, we gathered wider sheets of bark from fallen trees in the woods. We lay the bark across the roofing frame and attached the sod to the bark. Progress was also made on the walls and roof. We left feeling satisfied that we had made some headway and most importantly decided on the roof.

Dr. Bardsley arrived at the Deputy Center early Friday morning to begin the pit firing. When the rest of us arrived three hours later, the fire had burned down to coals. As this was our last day at the DC, we set to work immediately and everyone put in an extra effort to complete the burdei. While Brenden and I dug and transported sod, Katelyn made cordage, and Jonah tended the fire. At the burdei site, Grace, Jonathan, Corinne, Shane, and Dr. Bardsley at the various aspects of making wattle and daub – digging clay, collecting grass, weaving wattles, and applying the daub. They also installed extra bracing so the roof could support the weight of the sod. The class worked well together and everyone stepped into a role. Despite our best efforts, we ran out of time and did not complete the roof or finishing daubing the back wall of the shelter. Although we were disappointed not to leave the burdei unfinished, as the pictures indicate, everyone was happy with the result. The students and faculty took justifiable pride in their accomplishments. The plan was ambitious, especially considering how much else we did in the course, and we proved to ourselves that we could create a shelter from scratch using only local materials. We worked together to meet and overcome a number of obstacles, foreseen and unforeseen. Throughout the process, students reflected on the practical matters of construction, the social dynamics of the work, and also the issues of doing experimental archaeology. And they did it themselves from conception to planning to construction. Some students wrote in their final reflection paper that they achieved what Schindler described as soul authorship, and I think they are right.

On Saturday morning Dr. Bardsley returned to the Deputy Center to retrieve the pots. Unfortunately, the fire was not get hot enough and the pots were brittle and crumbly. Perhaps the pit was too deep or a flue was required. We can learned from the failure, do some more research, and try again next year.

Sandy

April 29, 2018

Class this week began with the by-now-traditional discussion of our progress on the Deputy Center burdei build. We considered how to attach the roof beams and the large roof panels, what material to use for roofing, and how to make wattle-and-daub. We then reflected, as a class, on some of the social processes of designing and building a structure as a team. We noted that because our time is allotted in several sessions with a week in between, we do indeed have plenty of opportunity to stop, discuss, and change direction in between bouts of building. This is in itself something of an anachronism since people in the past may have worked for several days straight without as much reflection time in the middle. On the other hand, they would have had a better sense from previous models of what to do! We also discussed division of labor. Last week, female students headed off together to extract clay and male students worked on the structure. We talked about possible reasons for this gendered division but concluded that our sample size was too small for us to be sure if this was coincidence. Finally, we considered the seasonal nature of the project and whether much preparation would have been possible during winter months by premodern people who knew better than we did what materials to prepare. Certainly they could have made cordage in advance, but most other work required spring growth or unfrozen ground.

We then discussed Guédelon Castle, a French project in which a 12^th-century style of castle is being built by a large team of artisans with the advice of a scientific committee. We all agreed that Guédelon seems, from its website, to be doing an excellent job at presenting its experimental agenda up front. The narrative told by its website and by the Monty Pythonesque video at https://www.guedelon.fr/en/the-story-begins_76.html emphasizes that the project has, from its beginnings, prioritized exploration and building-to-learn. Reynolds and Langlands, who seem to have become our class’s archetypes for hard-core scientific experimental archaeology and for hard-core hands-on craft (cræft!) would approve, we decided. We briefly considered whether heavy use of social media constitutes any hypocrisy or contradiction in terms when raising awareness (and money) for experimental archaeology sites. The consensus was that any such contradictions were forgivable. Many of us, I suspect, added Guédelon to our mental wish lists of places to visit.

Thursday’s class took an exciting turn as we abandoned reading and instead enjoyed the help of Ms. Janice Hill, a potter, in working the clay dug at the Deputy Center last week by Corinne, Grace, and Katelyn. We found it much harder to work than the art department clay! I had purified the Deputy Center clay by sieving out leaves, pebbles, sticks, and much of the sand. Ironically, we needed to add back quite a bit of sand in the form of temper. The temper we used was half sand and half grog (ground up baked clay from previous failed projects). Ms. Hill explained the regional variation in clay types and showed us that ours contained a lot of yellow iron. She showed us how to make pinch pots and other vessels, which we hope to pitfire this Friday. She also explained the different heat outputs of pitfiring and bonfire firing and gave us a sense of what to expect from the finished vessels. We can use them for water but – unless we want to coat them with mutton fat or something similar – we should not cook food in them. This is because the pores in the clay will not be sealed, so they won’t be able to get clean, and subsequent cooking could be contaminated by rotted food. Several of us took our pots home to work on over the next week.

Our trip to the Deputy Center on Friday resulted in some real progress. We found a solid upright pole with a branch at the end. This, when trimmed, created a “Y” shape into which the main roof ridge beam could sit. Another, shorter, Y pole was installed in the hill at the other end. As Jonah remarked, our structure is therefore a “double-Y-ed” (for this he narrowly avoided being pelted with lumps of clay). Poles were then leaned from each side against the central ridge pole at the front and back and at intervals between. They were attached to the ridge pole with cordage made from bark and roots. Katelyn put her cordage-making skills to good use once more. We leaned one side of the woven roof wattling into place but are leaving the other until we have had a chance to strengthen the first by working from both inside and outside. Meanwhile, Katelyn, Grace, and I dug more clay and hauled it back to the build site on a tarpaulin. This became the base for the daub of our wattle-and-daub exterior. We added some dirt, water, and dried grass and came up with a good, gluggy mixture that happily adhered to the wattle we’d woven to the front wall. Opinions differed on the type of wattle weave required, and we have the opportunity here for another experiment. Looking from the outside of the house, the panel to the immediate right of the doorway was woven by Dr. Paxton with larger branches and little space between them (resembling a wicker chair). The larger panel on the left and the smaller one on the extreme right were woven by several of us with smaller roots and branches and a looser weave. We shall have to see which holds up better over time! We left the structure looking much more like the bones of a building rather than like earthwork. The framing is up, even if we’re still ambivalent about roofing material. The lower level of daub has been applied on both sides, and we just need to hope that we can finish it all next week.

Alfred

Tuesday, April 17^th, 2018

We all have, at some point, come across at least one of the many survivalist shows floating out there. Most of us think of personalities such as Bear Grylls when we picture someone portraying survival scenarios for TV, someone who only does the survival aspect. However, in recent years, with the rising interest in primitive technology and experimental archaeology, National Geographic produced a show called “The Great Human Race.” The show is unlike other shows in the genre, as the scenarios depicted hinge on different time periods in the history of our species. Tasked with co-hosting the show are Dr. Bill Schindler, Professor of Experimental Archaeology at Washington College in the United States, and Cat Bigney, survival skills expert and instructor at the Boulder Outdoor Survival School.

The show is aimed at a wide audience so that the concepts introduced are accessible to those who do not have a strong background in the field. After reading a review by Roeland Paardekooper, our class discussed the importance of such shows and whether they need to be very technical in applying the techniques used by our ancestors. As a whole, the class felt that shows like “The Great Human Race” can help draw more eyes to the field and perhaps spark interest in a growing field. The class did not feel that the show had to be exactly accurate in the techniques depicted as long as it stayed true to the technological restrictions of the time period being portrayed.

Thursday, April 19^th, 2018

In the second article of the week, by Richard Schiffman, our class took an in-depth look at the work of Dr. Bill Schindler. Dr. Schindler teaches courses of Experimental Archaeology and Primitive Technology at Washington College. His course offers hands-on experience for his students who learn how to build a fire with wooden hand drills, make rope from plant fibers, forage for edible plants and even skin a deer to make clothing from the hide and a feast from the meat.

The main discussion point of our class when talking about these skills that Dr. Bill Schindler says are becoming lost to humans was whether everyone should have this basic knowledge. The class was divided into two groups. Some thought that these skills should be taught to younger kids to give them an appreciation of what our human ancestors survived with while the other group argued that these skills should be taught only to those who have interest in the fields. Realistically, one may never have to build a fire with a wood hand drill set, but it is still a valuable skill to have. Another point of discussion was pulled from a single line in the article. Dr. Schindler describes an instance when he told his students to crack an egg and separate the yolk and he was met with blank stares suggesting that these college students did not know how to crack an egg or separate the yolk. Some students in our class, including myself, could not believe that this was an actual thing while others said that it is probably true. After much discussion, I am still not sold that there are young adults out there who can’t crack an egg. I’m on to you, Dr. Schindler!

Friday, April 20^th, 2018

Our visit this week to the Jay Deputy Center yielded an encouraging amount of progress in building our burdei structure. The floor of the house has been made surprisingly flat even with all of the rocks in the soil. The sunken walls have also been lined with rocks in hopes of providing some added structural integrity to prevent erosion. When digging for the shelter, we realized that our initial proposal would be difficult to follow due to the time constraints, so we decided to improvise. Instead of digging the floor a full 3 feet, we decided to dig the back half of the floor about 2 feet and then placed the removed soil on the front half of the floor to raise the floor off the hillside (Figure 1 should help visualize this). We also have planted our main supporting post in the offset middle of the house to compensate for the slope of the hill. While some of us worked on the walls and posts, others dug clay and added bark to our woven roof frames.

Corinne

April 16, 2018

This past week, the readings created some good discussion in each class. For Tuesday’s class, we discussed two articles about various archaeocenters in Europe and Britain. Discussion started off with the meaning and connotations of the term “heritage,” and then how this played into the publicity and role of archaeocentres. There was general agreement on the idea that heritage often involves myth-making and the manipulation of history. After this, we compared the five experimental archaeology sites for characteristics such as living history, if it was more experimental or experiential, whether the staff dressed up, and if they had signs and gave tours. In the end, some were recognized to emphasize the experimental element and avoid living history as much as possible, such as Butser Ancient Farm, while others like the Archaeolink Prehistory Park resembled more closely an open-air museum.

In the class on Thursday, we discussed the first chapter of a book by Alexander Langlands about the origins and meaning of the word “cræft” and watched a video on Marx’s idea of alienation. The class had a lively discussion about the ideas in the reading, especially about the narrow definition he provided. Some people in the class thought the chapter was poorly organized and had a “preachy” tone. Also, most of the class voiced opinions against the idea of alienation from work, citing personal experience that this was not always the case.

For the lab on Friday, we fired the pots that we made a few weeks prior on south campus of the college. We tried two different methods, the first, a Raku firing, using a large metal drum as a kiln, and the second, a traditional pit firing. For both methods, natural materials like brush, wood chips, and twigs were used as fuel for the fire and to protect the pots. For the metal kiln, gas was used to keep the fire going inside and the natural material was alternated with placing in the pots, all of which was tightly enclosed with a lid. The pit firing method involved digging a pit (about a 1 ft. deep), then layering it with soft brush from the nearby tree line and placing the pots in this layer. After this, we layered more natural material on top of it, adding in more twigs and small branches as the layer got higher, finally topping it off with large branches. After some difficulties lighting, we kept the fire going and tried to increase the temperature by constantly adding more branches. Unfortunately, we were stopped after about 45 minutes by the campus police and had to put the fire out. Luckily, we were able to leave the pots in overnight, and some survived!

Grace

April 3, 2018

Today was the History Cookout, a rainy gathering of many different history classes that all brought or cooked historic foods. Our class, Experimental Archaeology, made Paleolithic Beef Bourguignon using the hot rocks cooking method. The rocks were heated on a charcoal grill, cleaned, and then placed in a ceramic pot containing the stew. There were a great variety of foods at the cookout including, Pupusas, Parsnip Pie, and Anglo-Saxon Honey, Oat, and Spice Cakes. Personally, the Anglo-Saxon Spice Cakes were my favorite.

After the cookout, I went to the ceramics room to work on some pieces and talk to Renzo Faggioli, the ceramics and sculpture professor at Moravian College, about the pit firing on Friday. I burnished one of the pieces I had made a few weeks ago, but many of mine were bisque fired before I had the chance to burnish them. I had been reading about terra sigillata, a thin clay mixture used as an alternative to glazes, and wanted to use it to polish some of my pots. Renzo brought out the book Alternative Kilns & Firing Techniques and we found a recipe for terra sig that could be used on earthenware and bisqued pieces. The recipe called for 1 ½ cups of ball clay, 1 ½ cups of EPK Kaolin, and 10 cups of water. After mixing those ingredients until they have the consistency of milk, a deflocculant, a substance that will make the mixture less viscous, must be added. The recipe called for sodium silicate, but we didn’t have it on hand. We consulted The Potter’s Complete Book of Clay and Glazes and came up with an alternative, soda ash. So, I added approximately 2 tablespoons of soda ash to the mixture, blended it, and then poured it into two clear containers. The reason terra sig can polish clay is because it has a very high concentration of the smallest clay particles. One of the key elements in the terra sig recipe is letting it sit and settle out into three layers. The heaviest particles, terra sig, and a thin clear layer will form after the mixture sits for about 20 hours.

April 5, 2018

At the beginning of class today, we discussed the outcomes of the History Cookout and possible improvements. Jonah observed that the mushrooms could easily be ripped into pieces instead of chopped with the obsidian. The temperature of the stew was measured and had never reached boiling point; we believe this is because the charcoal grill, where we heated the rocks, never got to high enough temperatures. Many students suggested that next time a fire pit should be used to heat the rocks, so that the rocks can be buried in the coals and reach temperatures hot enough to boil the mixture.

To prep for class today, we read Up in Smoke Pottery’s pit firing website and an article by Anthonio Akkermans on the website Wildwood Survival. Both of these sources had detailed descriptions of the pit firing method. As a class, we briefly discussed the colorants and methods we might use in the pit firing tomorrow. I plan on bringing heavy duty aluminum foil, for foil saggars, dried avocado skins, and perhaps salt soaked and dried coffee grounds. Because Renzo is prepping the pit firing for us, as a class we discussed what we would need to do to set up a pit firing on our own. We will be using a large oil drum for the kiln and may use the gas line from a raku kiln to raise the temperature, if needed. We might also dig a small pit for a reduction pit firing. In this firing, the pieces would come out completely black.

I removed the top two layers of the terra sig today. I then applied that mixture to some of my pieces. I applied three layers to each piece, then polished them with a plastic grocery bag.

Terra sig separated into layers; Application of terra sig on a bone dry piece before and after.

April 6, 2018

Unfortunately, due to the weather we could not have the pit firing today. Instead, we went to the Deputy Center and continued digging the foundation for the shelter. We also started weaving part of the roof. Some of the roots found while digging the foundation were used to tie the branches in the roof together. The digging is very time consuming and labor intensive. The area where we are excavating is saturated with roots and fist sized rocks. Even with modern shovels and pickaxes after 16 hours of labor we have only removed about 50 cubic ft of dirt. The soil composition and landscape are really important when determining the type of shelter to be built. It would be interesting to see if there are any similarities in the landscapes where underground structures were or were not built in the past.

April 4, 2018

Jonah

Tuesday: We began our discussion for the week by talking about our experiences last Friday at the Deputy Center. We discussed all of the problems that we had encountered at the site and how we could improve the excavation next time we go up. Some of our resolutions were to bring more tools, including a pickax, as well as dividing ourselves into rotating work groups. We also discussed combining two designs for our structure but settled on one design with room to add further in future if needed. We also agreed to create a small earthwork at the back to channel rainwater around the structure.

After we finished we moved on to talk about how we can recreate food, and what evidence is used to do so. We compared food to textiles that, because they are organic, have mostly disappeared from the archaeological record. It was pointed out that looking at the fossilized remains of food from tombs, as well as food in art and children’s games, could be valuable resources. We also noted that recreating ancient foods could be like recreating our grandmother’s cooking. The basic recipe is there, but the exact amounts need to be figured out. By looking at the food they ate, it is possible to see the types of trade that were available, the nutrition of the people, and how this affected their daily lives. There are also the different types of foods all around the world, and how people in the modern world might be a little skeptical of eating some ancient foods. The final part of the class was spent talking about the food experiment we will conduct at the History Cookout. It will need to be very clear, and it may need to be short with only one variable.

March 23, 2018

Shane

Tuesday and Thursday

This week in class we deliberated over what structure proposal would be selected to be built by the class. There were five possible proposals from which to select:

1. Katelyn- Wattle and Partially-Daubed

2. Brendan- Plank House of the Pacific Northwest

3. Jonah, Jonathan, Corinne- Bamboo Hut

4. Grace- Tipi Interpretation

5. Alfred, Shane, Tristan- Burdei Hybrid

Each individual or group explained their own structure idea and answered questions. With limited time available, the class weighed the pros and cons of each structure. The plank house and tipi interpretation were eliminated due to cost issues, and we couldn’t be sure of getting materials for the bamboo hut. In the end the class chose to build a combination of the burdei hybrid with a wattle and partially-daubed front wall.

Friday March 23 2018

Lab on Friday was at the Deputy Center and was the first day of construction for the structure selected. Upon arrival at the Deputy Center, the class realized that a majority of the snow on the ground had melted. The trek to the build site was thus much easier than anticipated.

Once we arrived at the planned build site, we started by surveying the hillside location and finding the most viable spot to begin building. The selected spot fell between two large trees and was free of any large noticeable rocks. With the most suitable location selected, construction began by clearing the top level of dead leaves and the small shrubbery in the area. Then with twine and stakes we mapped out the approximate dimensions for the structure. About half the class took on this project of clearing the location, while the other half of the class searched for suitable branches to use as the poles that will make the frame of the structure.

When we started the process of dirt removal from the selected hillside location we encountered large roots and rocky soil for about 6-10 inches but once through this initial layer the soil became moist. It was easy to get the shovel into but heavy when to lift and throw. While the removal of rocks and roots was a tedious project, the process in the end was beneficial to helping loosen the top layer of soil and expose the base layer that was easier shoveling. At the end of the first day of work the class was tired and dirty but we cleared the necessary space for the structure. The next time we return to the Deputy Center we will still need to remove soil from the structure’s build location, but we will be able to work more efficiently and hit the ground running because of the work that has already been done.

March 18, 2018

Katelyn S.

Class this week focused on fibers and textiles, and the role they play when studying and doing archaeology. A new methodology was introduced for us to consider, and we all tried our hands on gaining two new skills: making cordage and spinning yarn.

On Tuesday, we discussed an article by Linda Hurcombe on the emerging methodology of organics from inorganics concerning fibers and textiles. This essentially means someone can study a degraded or rare organic sample from the inorganics which interacted with the sample. The article also discusses the fact that one can study textiles such as mats from the impressions they had on ceramics, which is what Hurcombe further means by studying organic, perishable materials, from inorganic materials. Having reference material and collections are important, additionally, because it constructs pathways and groupings in order to study the record and various inferences. The core aspects of this methodology are that it allows one to study the possibilities of archaeological inferences, of which experimental archaeology allows people to study these possibilities further.

On Thursday, we discussed two more articles, one by Marja Haas and another by Eva Strand, on fibers and textiles. We evaluated the experiments on their use of existing literature, appropriate materials and limits, experience, repetitions, overall report, and conclusions. Strand’s experiment on Viking-era spindles and loom weights, although lacking clear conclusions and narrow focus, was determined to be more effective than Hass’s needlework experiment, which did not support the conclusions and in which she lacked sufficient practical experience. The more professional experiment utilized a team of skillful people, and understood that there are important interactions, in making textiles, between resources, technology, and society which all must be analyzed.

On Friday, our lab focused on making cordage as well as yarn using spindles. We watched two videos to help us learn how to do these, which were very instructional; some students had difficulty with the different topics. For example, I found making cordage easy and satisfying, except when using the nettle which was too dry and thin, especially for a beginner. I even brought home some flax wool and made an instructional video of how to make the cordage, linked to at the bottom at this post. Others, like Grace, found that using the spindle was relatively easy, but some got very frustrated relatively quickly.

This was an interesting week in archaeology because it introduced a unique methodology that can be utilized within experimental archaeology. It may seem contradictory, but it is possible to study organic artifacts, through studying the remaining inorganic artifacts. Additionally, it is imperative to develop skills in order to study and do experimental archaeology as effectively as possible. We need to recognize that without knowing how to make natural cordage or spin yarn in less modern ways, it is impossible to have meaningful interpretations of experimental conclusions about these processes and artifacts.

You will find my video on cordage at https://youtu.be/M6e5-r0Olh4

February 26, 2018

Jonathan

This week focused on two major points of our class. The first was a discussion of proposals and readings for the end of semester structure assignment. The articles gave us as a class some ideas to tackle the construction of our structures and what to look out for when we build the project at the Deputy Center later this spring. Though one reading was about a building for use in a museum, it allowed us to really understand what goes into building one of these structures and the anachronisms that could arise when constructing our own structures. For instance, if we were going to build the walls out of clay, would we need to dig from the earth to get our materials or would it mean we would have to choose another structure? It gave foresight into what was plausible with what is available and what we are able to obtain beforehand. We even took the time to create a proposal outline for when we create our own proposals. This way we have the outline for our projects, though by the looks of it we aren’t going to start work on them till a later date.

The next class day focused on our lab for the week, ceramics. This was what I was looking forward to the entire week. Most of our class time was spent discussing the method that is used to construct these ancient pots and how they could be used in conjunction with experimental archaeology. The articles for that day discussed the variety of ways ceramics could be tested to provide knowledge on their construction and origins. We also discussed our upcoming lab in the ceramics room, where we would attempt making our own pots. Grace gave a lot of information and detail on the topic, answering any questions about ceramics, the types of clay we may use, and her own experiences working in ceramics.

During our lab day, all of us went straight to work in creating pinch and coil pots. However, Grace decided that she wanted to go on the wheel. While electric wheels are an anachronism for the premodern period, spun pottery was a practiced art during the ancient times. Dr. Bardsley told of people in Nepal who spin the wheels by hand, so it was fair game to use them. I also had my fun on the wheel, seeing I haven't spun in a couple years. I was amazed at the work Grace was getting done in such a short amount of time and I was pleasantly amazed at how refined her work was. Though Grace and I did the most spun work, others in our class were motivated to go and take a chance on the wheel. Some succeeded in creating a work, while the others were destroyed due to mistakes. It wasn’t any problem as not everyone gets it on the first try, but everyone was having fun and creating their own works. Now we have to look forward to seeing them fired.

During our Tuesday class, when we discussed the building proposals, we also debated whether we should work by ourselves or in groups. Some wanted to work on their own so they could do what they wanted. There is merit in working alone, but ultimately we decided to work on the proposals in groups.Working together emulates how the archaeologists we have read about conducted their projects, and working together in a group will let us finish the structure more quickly and effectively..

Peter Reynolds would have disapproved of the process we used to create these pots. We focused more on having fun and learning more about ceramics and methods of creating pots than on experimentation. Saraydar, on the other hand, would have encouraged us to continue the way we did to become more familiar with making ceramics and spinning pots. We all grasped how difficult and tedious it was to make pots. Later we will pit fire the pots rather than use the kiln. I am looking forward to our pots drying and seeing how the ancient firing process will affect these pots.

February 19, 2018

Tristan S.

Tuesday

After discussing an article on pig bones and diagenesis (processes that change the composition of buried items), students began working with washed deer bones and using different carving techniques to begin to shape them into arrowheads. Some of the techniques included splitting using an axe, filing using a large (or small) metal file, and sanding using a patch of sandpaper. Working with the bone came with an aromatic odor of what could only be described as “death”. The most generally accepted way of shaping the bone arrowheads in class was to clamp the bone piece to the table and use the sandpaper (or file) to shape the soon-to-be arrowhead. This allowed students to keep the piece of bone still, while they worked on the shaping process of the bones. Working with bone turned out to be very tiresome work, but the excitement of everyone making their own arrowhead made it well worth it.

Thursday

The reading we had assigned for this day was on the testing and archaeological knowledge of bone skates. The types of bones that were useful for making these skates were the metapodials and radials of cattle and horse. These bones were then strapped on to a makeshift boot that held the foot of the skater. The day was full of hard work as many of the students attempted to finalize their arrowhead pieces for them to be placed on the heads of multiple arrows. The arrowheads differed in shape and size, but all looked to be effective as successful hunting devices.

Friday

Our lab experience for the day consisted of heading out into the great outdoors of the Comenius Hall front lawn. In this brave wilderness we witnessed a deer. Of course it was a prosthetic deer that was brought out and placed just in front of a cluster of trees. Students experimented with many different ways of attempting to hunt this creature, but alas, it was Grace, Brenden, Shane, Jonathan, and Alfred who successfully slew the beast. The arrows that they shot from a bow hit the neck, head, stomach, and leg area of the fake deer. The overall process of shooting a bow and arrow was quite a bit harder than it looked, I feel as though students became more comfortable with the process the more repetitions they did.

We also used spears with and without an atl atl. This method turned out to be much more difficult as there was less help from the technology itself in order to throw the spear. For example, Alfred chose to manually throw the spear without the use of an atl atl. Although the experiment did not go according to planned because not enough of us hit the target, there was still fun to be had with the attempted slaying of the prosthetic deer.

February 12, 2018

Brenden M.

Tuesday

This week was a very exciting week for our Experimental Archaeology class. The class read two articles on Tuesday. The first article was “The Potential of Experiments in Lithic Technology” written by Daniel S. Amick, Raymond P. Mauldin, and Lewis R. Binford. This read was like slogging through a muddy swamp. There was a lot of technical language but we all made it through. The article gave a history about the study of lithic technology.

Experiment stage

• 1940-1960 -attempts to relearn the methods of producing the stone tools

Replication Stage

• 1960’s -attempts to relearn the cultural mindsets and patterns of Lithic peoples

Debitage Analysis

• 1970’s -analysis of debitage found at sites and use data from experiments to figure out what type of stone tools would create a certain amount of debitage in order to identify the type of stone tools being produced at that site

Technological Processes

• 1980s -processes still looking at debitage analysis but a return back to trying to understand the cultural mindsets.

Besides the history behind the study of Lithics technology, the Amick et al. article provided some very important terms to remember and use during any experiment with this type of technology:

1. Variables- the parts of the experiment that changes and is never a constant

2. Keep good records and measurements- recording how that object functions under certain variables

3. Control Group- a group of points that is left unused to compare the variables to

4. Analyze what the experiment tells you- reviewing the results of the experiment and explaining what the data has to offer and how it compares to archeological evidence

The next article was “Macro and Micro Wear Traces of Lithics Projectile Points” by Anders Fishcer, Peter Vemming Hansen, and Peter Rasmussen. This was an experiment where they examined if macro and micro wear could be used by archeologists to determine if stone tools were used as projectile points. They tested these points on freshly killed animal carcasses and animal parts. The results of the experiment were very interesting because it was found that both macro and micro wear analysis can be used to identify projectile points but can only be used with 40 percent accuracy for the former and 60 percent accuracy for the latter.

Thursday

On Thursday, we began class with a quick overview of an article called “American Flintknappers” by John C Whittaker. This article gave us a quick overview of techniques used to produce stone tools. This covered certain techniques like hard hammer percussion, soft hammer percussion, indirect percussion, and pressure flaking which all can be used to produce a stone projectile point or tool from a core of flint or obsidian. The rest of class was about giving us a quick history of lithics technology by Dr. Paxton. Stone tools started out as very primitive hand tools of shaped stone termed Oldowan that date as far back as 2.6 million years ago. The next major step in stone tool technology is called the Acheulean industry, which dates back to 1 million years ago and consisted of more shaped stones, specifically hand axes. The middle Paleolithic era saw stone tools make yet another leap where stone points were now being hafted to mount thrusting spears. The final leap in Paleolithic stone tools was in the Upper Paleolithic era which produced more uniformity among certain projectile points with certain cultures being able to be defined by that type of projectile point.

Friday

Friday was the big experiment day. It was determined on Thursday that we would be testing out obsidian flakes and the ability to determine types of wear that might found with certain flakes that would be used for everyday jobs like whittling wood or cutting vegetables. The flakes would be tested in cutting up carrots, whittling wood, and cutting leather. The first step that needed to happen was to produce enough obsidian flakes that could be used as test and control groups. The class soon learned how difficult this task would be. Eventually everyone got the hang of producing large enough flakes, but I could imagine our stone age ancestor would be laughing at our bleeding fingers and frustrations at something that probably a child was able to master easily back in that day. With enough flakes produced it was time to test them on the carrots, leather, and wood. After testing, we moved to the hall of science where we examined the test group of obsidian flakes up against the unused control group of obsidian flakes. Under the microscopes, it was difficult to see at first, but we were able to see micro wear and polishing on the test obsidian flakes. There was also residue left over on the flakes. With this in mind, it is possible to identify what the flake was used for with examination under the microscope, due to both residues and wear marks left behind from use. The class accurately identified the flakes used to chop carrots but had difficulty distinguishing between flakes used on wood and on leather. This could mean that if original flakes from an archeological site were examined under a microscope, it would be difficult although possible to identify their use based off the data we collected.

Overall, this week was very fun and I’m not the only one in class that looks forward to what else we will learn and test in the near future!

Learning about Pennsylvania jasper and knapping obsidian in class.

Chopped carrots, the fruits (or vegetables) of our labors. One students hafted an obsidian flake onto a dowel.

Distributing flakes and examining flakes under microscopes.

Obsidian flakes viewed through a microscope. The image on the right shows evidence of micro wear.

February 4, 2018

As the second week of classes comes to an end, I (Jamie) find myself with far more to write about than anyone would care to read. Tuesday's readings by Peter Reynolds and Stephen Saraydar focused on the scientific method and what constitutes an experiment in archaeology. Compared to last week, the readings proved to be heavy sledding for those of us who are unfamiliar with the language and concepts of archaeology. I was impressed, therefore, that our students not only persevered to understand these challenging texts but also made many insightful observations and criticisms during class. They determined that both Reynolds and Saraydar were processual archaeologists that championed the scientific method and hypothesis-driven experiments. We then classified a number of experiments into one of the five types Reynolds identified: construct, process, simulation, probability, and technical innovation. However, while students appreciated the scientific approach, some found Reynold’s insistence that the experiential aspects of experimental archaeology had no value somewhat rigid and limiting.

On Thursday, we reviewed Saraydar’s eight guidelines for an archaeological experiment in preparation for Friday’s lab. Students did an excellent job analyzing and evaluating the experiments described in chapter three of Saraydar’s text. I'll provide an abbreviated version of those guidelines because they are proving so useful to us in the course.

1) Research both the archaeological and ethnological literature for clues about materials and process

2) Use the appropriate materials – those we know past people used or those available to them.

3) Work within the limits of the aboriginal situation. Do not use technologies the people in question did not possess.

4) Gain experience in the skill being tested. One needs to practice, take lessons, etc. in order to master the skill or obtain the assistance of an expert.

5) Repeat experiments whenever possible to account for anomalies.

6) Report on the experiment in sufficient detail so that someone else may critique it and replicate it.

7) The goal is to determine how something might have been made or used in the past, not that it must have been made in this way.

8) These are guidelines and may not be adhered to in every particular.

Saraydar, S. C. 2008. Replicating the past: the art and science of the archaeological experiment. Long Grove, IL: Waveland Press, 26-28.

During the Friday lab, the students put what we learned from Reynolds and Saraydar to good use to design our own textile experiments. Dr. Bardsley began by introducing a problem from medieval history. Why did English women send yarn to weavers instead of knitting their own clothes? For more details on weaving versus knitting, see the Ongoing Experiments section of this website. The students developed a hypothesis: Woven fabrics were better for medieval working clothes. Then they devised experiments to test the hypothesis. We divided the class into three groups of three and each received a woven swatch of wool and a knitted swatch of wool. The swatches were about 15cm square.

One group, consisting of Corinne, Brenden, Grace, and Bishop, hypothesized that woven textiles were sturdier than knitted textiles. They tested their theory by abrading two swatches of woolen fabric, one woven and the other knitted, an equal number of times with abraders of different coarseness. Both swatches developed holes, but when tugged the knitted swatch tore more easily. The group concluded that woven fabrics retained their integrity longer after being damaged.

Dr. Bardsley introduces textiles. Abrading fabric swatches.

The second group, consisting of Katelyn, Jonathan, and Jonah, tested whether or not woven cloth was warmer than knitted textiles. Jonah attached a swatch to each arm with rubber bands and then braved the -4 C temperatures to see which was warmer. Using an infrared thermometer, the group measured the temperature of the textiles and the skin before and after exposure to the cold. In both trials, the woven fabric worked better to keep the skin warm if only by a few degrees. The group concluded that the larger spaces between the knitted fibers made knitted textiles less suited to colder climates.

Jonah prepares to brave the elements, while Jonathan and Katelyn test the temperature gun.

The third group, made up of Shane, Alfred, and Tristan, tested the elasticity of woven and knitted textiles. They began by measuring the length of each side of the swatch. Then they stretched the fabrics for two minutes per side and then re-measured the swatches. The knitted swatch stretched more and did not return to its original size, while the woven cloth retained its shape better. They concluded that the woven cloth was superior because it kept its shape and that as knitted textiles stretched and became thinner, they would become less effective at keeping people warm.

Stretching and measuring the swatches.

Reflecting on the experiments afterwards, we decided that while none of the results were conclusive, they all suggested that woven textiles proved better suited for medieval working clothes than knitted textiles. We concluded that this week’s experiments, while flawed in many respects, could form the basis for a more carefully designed and executed set of experiments in the future. As we talked, I was surprised at how quickly everyone picked up on and used concepts from the readings that had seemed so challenging on Tuesday and Thursday. The 'doing' part of experimental archaeology really helps make the abstract more concrete.

In the past week, Sandy and I have also learned a lot about teaching experimental archaeology. Though we spent a long time selecting readings, I have been pleasantly surprised at how well the readings mesh. We constantly draw on earlier classes to help us understand and reflect on the current day’s material. Our backgrounds in history have also proved useful. The parallels between history and archaeology, though not entirely surprising, have given us a way to talk about archaeology and create analogies that are (I hope) accessible.

Well, this will be the last post from either Sandy or I for a while, although we may pop in from time to time. Starting next week, students will assume responsibility for reporting about what we are up to. As I look forward to reading about their perspectives on the class, I want to echo Sandy’s comments from the last blog. We have a great group of smart and hard working students, who are making the first course in experimental archaeology rewarding.

January 27, 2018

Sandy here, at the end of our first week of classes for the spring semester. I am writing as the first of the weekly bloggers to sum up what we learned this week. Each week we have two 70-minute classes (Tuesday and Thursday) and a 2.5-3 hour "lab" time (Friday afternoons).

We began on Tuesday by recognizing that this course will truly be a learning experience for both faculty and students. While Jamie and I have each used the work of experimental archaeologists in our own research, we are newcomers to the field. We summarized our experiences at the EXARC and REARC conferences of the past year and relayed for students some examples of the very interesting papers and posters presented. We also outlined some of the courses we have taken to gather skills. But it's no false humility when we say that we have a great deal to learn and that we -- students and faculty -- will be learning together. At the same time, we are learning to team-teach! We then situated the course within the history department curriculum in terms of the modified Bloom's Taxonomy of knowledge. At the most basic level -- as in our 100-level classes -- we ask "what?" questions -- "what happened in the past?" "what can you learn from a particular primary source?" and students respond by describing, summarizing, explaining, remembering, discussing (the lower 2 levels in the chart below). Most of our 200-level courses, on the other hand, ask not "what" questions but "why" questions; in particular, we examine why it is that different historians examine similar sources yet come to different conclusions (part of what we call historiography). Most 200-level history courses, therefore, use the higher order skills of evaluating and analyzing. We'll certainly be doing these, but we will also drawing more than most on the skill on the top-left here, that of creating.

While on Tuesday we approached Experimental Archaeology from the perspective of historians, we changed tack in Thursday's class to approach it from the perspective of anthropologists and archaeologists. We read about major stages in anthropological thought over the 20th century and the roles that Experimental Archaeology played in each, and students used the chalkboards to come up with 3 rather intricate and thoughtful flowcharts depicting the relationships between these stages. We noted, too, some of the relationships between stages of historical thought and those of archaeological (and sociological) thought:

(i) the late 19th/early 20th century was an era of Rankean "objectivity" in history and an effort to establish clear and objective chronologies in archaeology;

(ii) the mid-20th century saw a challenge to some of these "objective" approaches as archaeologists, historians, and sociologists all emphasized structures (Annaliste school, Marxism, processualism, structural functionalism) and embraced more "scientific" ways of thinking (including data produced and organized by the new-to-the-scene computers);

(iii) in the late 20th and 21st centuries, post-structuralist history and post-processual archaeology emphasized the importance of individuals and smaller-scale identities within and beyond the acknowledged structures of race, class, and gender. In both fields, scholars pointed to the problems of regarding data as objective and assuming that we can fully appreciate the cultural meaning of artifacts or documents.

We noted, as per our reading (Stephen Saraydar), that experiments in archaeology can fit into any of these three approaches, but particularly the second two.

On Friday, we got out to the Deputy Center for an initial reconnaissance of the land with an eye to resources we might use in building a structure later in the semester. The weather was beautiful and clear although chilly. As expected, the stream had partly frozen over, although less than my little dog, Clovis, assumed when he tried to walk across the ice to the other side. On the way back we created our first innovation -- some stepping stones to help us get across in future -- and Jonathan kindly carried Clovis. We visited the 3/4 wattle fence that Jamie and I made last year and found that it is holding up well. We inspected the house and barn foundations and poked about at stone walls. We uncovered a couple of examples of fairly modern metal implements (a ratchet head and something that was maybe used for connecting one piece of machinery to another). We examined the clay to be found in one part of the site, thinking about it both as potential pottery and potential daub for wattle-and-daub structures. Pictures below.

Some thoughts and reflections:

• First off, I continue to be impressed at what a great group of students we have. Maybe it's because a course like this attracts the interesting and motivated. So far as I can tell, we don't have any whiners or anyone seeming overwhelmed by the material or the conditions at the Deputy Center.
• This may sound a bit bizarre, but I was thinking this morning about the ways in which the dog's activity out at the Deputy Center sort of characterized what we were all doing. Clovis was sniffing, poking, fossicking, exploring, but also enjoying the opportunity to be in the natural world. He was playing. Although we might like to apply more academic-sounding words to it, we were all doing much the same. Academic work doesn't give us a lot of opportunity for that, and maybe we should make more? After all, "play," in the sense of not-especially-directed exploration and discovery, is much of what people throughout time must have done when faced with a new environment or technology or resource. As we explored the land, poked at interesting ice forms, squeezed clay, pulled back dead grass to examine what was underneath, etc., we were literally getting the lay of the land but we were also playing and enjoying being outside of classrooms.

January 23, 2018

(Sandy here): We had our first Experimental Archaeology class today! A great group of students. We're excited. I'll be saying more about that at the end of the week since I'll be our first weekly class blogger. In the interim, here are some photos of the deer bones we've been boiling up in preparation for bone carving. They are kindly supplied by Chuck the Taxidermist of OnTime Taxidermy. If anyone is considering boiling up deer bones in a 20 quart pot on the stove, I would suggest you send the family out for the day. I was not popular at my house after the smell grossed out the humans and excited the dog.

January 22

Bone Working

We are well into 2018, and I (Jamie) realize it has been too long since our last entry. Between the busyness of the end of the semester, the holidays, and preparing to teach our first class in experimental archaeology, we have fallen behind. I did manage to sneak in a bone-working course. In a few hours I had made an awl and a fishhook. To save time, I used modern tools – metal, saws, files, and rasps – to cut, shape, and refine the bone. The instructor assured us that we could achieve similar results in about the same time using stone tools as long as the bone had soaked in water for several days before working. Compared with stone, bone is relatively soft and easy to work and requires less precision. Yet bone also breaks and splinters easily and haste or carelessness can ruin a project as I learned. I had invested a great deal of time into my first fishhook when it broke because I grew impatient. My second effort, pictured below, turned out nicely although it could stand to be thinner.

In many cases, there is a close correlation between the bone and the object you want to make. Scapulae make good scrapers and knives. Leg bones can be turned into knives, awls, and ice skates. Toe bones make the best fishhooks. As with stone, I have learned that the material determines what can be made and that a good craftsperson learns to “read” and adjust to the material. As with flint knapping, bone working is best learned as a social activity in a group where more experienced workers can assist novices. Working and talking in a group also seems to lessen the tendency to rush and make mistakes.

Update: After Sandy cleaned most of the flesh off the bones, it was up to me to remove the marrow and whatever gunk remained on the surface. The smell was horrendous and it took a very long time of boiling and scraping to get the bones clean. In the future I shall pick up whatever clean bones I find in the forest and save myself the hassle and ridicule of my family.

Below are an awl made from a leg bone and a fishhook fashioned from the toe bone of a deer.

October 27

Making Cordage Part 1

It was a fine fall morning in the Lehigh Valley, so I went to a nearby park in search for materials to make cordage. A few small tulip poplars grew near the parking lot, and although I was tempted, I did not want to strip the bark from a park tree. After forty-five minutes of searching, I was about to give up and go home when I came across a stinging nettle patch. Cutting several nettle stalks near the base, I stripped off the leaves and ran my gloved hand over the stalk to get rid of the hairs. Laying the nettles on a root, I lightly beat the entire length of the stalks to split the outer bark. I beat the tough nodes where the leaves attached a little longer than the stalk itself. Using my thumbs I then split the stalk in half and flattened it out, exposing the woody interior. After bending the stalk backwards until the woody fibres cracked, I was then able to peel the fibres away from the bark. The bark is what I will use to make cordage. After just three hours of drying on top of my barbeque lid, the nettle fibre was dry and ready to make cordage.

A couple of thoughts occurred to me this morning. As I packed up, I took a look around my work area and realized that my activities that morning had left traces on the land. Clumps of discarded nettle leaves and woody fibres lay in pile. The root and branch I had been working with were wet with nettle juice. The clump of nettles was sparse and much thinned. Before today, I would not have recognized the area as a work site, but now the evidence of my activities were obvious. While my activities will never become part of the archaeological record, I have a greater appreciation for how experimental archaeology can help archaeologists interpret the sites they do find.

It was exciting for me to start the day with only the vaguest notion of how to find and acquire cordage material and then end up with a quantity of good material. Our reasons for offering a course in experimental archaeology was to give students experiences that they modern people increasingly do not have, such as cooking over a fire or designing and building a project from scratch. As my excitement grew working with the nettle, I realized how few of those kinds of experiences I had had and little I knew about sustaining myself without modern conveniences. My enthusiasm for this course grows with every new discovery.

Photos to follow

Monocacy Creek Stinging Nettle Beating the stalk Separating the woody fibre

from the bark

Nettle fibre that when dry can be turned into cordage

October 23

Frank Kuserk, a professor of biology and the director of the environmental studies and sciences program at Moravian College, died on Friday October 20. A dedicated and enthusiastic teacher, Frank supervised many SOAR (Student Opportunities of Academic Research) and Honors projects. Together, he and his students studied of the effects of stream restoration in the Lehigh Valley and monitored the Palmerton Zinc Superfund site. Though he had little patience for the passing fashions of the administration, he loved taking students outdoors and doing the hands on work of water sampling and tracking turtles. Like his students, we benefited greatly from Frank’s knowledge, generosity, and encouragement. Without his help, we likely would not have had a site to run our course in experimental archaeology. Last winter, Frank told us about the Deputy Center, a seventy acre tract near Upper Mount Bethel, and then drove Sandy and I up there to show us around the woods and clearings. Although he and his students used the land for research, he wanted to see the property being utilized and encouraged us to use it for experimental archaeology. We had hoped to collaborate with Frank in the future, but sadly that is not to be. We are grateful for the support he gave to our work and we shall miss him.

October 18

Sandy here, belatedly updating the blog re. the Premodern Cookoff event that took place on Sept 26th on Moravian's campus. This involved four 100-level history classes -- Sandra Aguilar's Colonial Latin America, Jamie's Native North America, and two sections of my England to 1603 course. It was a great success, and all credit is due to the students in each of the classes who found appropriate recipes, adapted them for cooking over gas burners and charcoal bbqs, prepared posters in which they explained the recipes' context and noted anachronisms, and cooked them for the benefit of Moravian's campus and 7th- and 8th-graders from the Swain School. Here was the menu:

ENGLAND TO 1603

Paleolithic Ragout of Mushrooms with Leek and Bacon

Paleolithic Sweet Hazelnut Bread

Roman-era Burgers

Iron Age Lentil & Mushroom Soup

Medieval Pumpes (Meatballs)

Medieval Sweet Cottage Cheese Fritters

Early Modern Spiced Roast Chicken

Early Modern Pazzelles and Snowe

NATIVE NORTH AMERICA

Hull Corn Soup

Oneida Corn Bread

Bannock

Wojapi (fruit dish)

Corn and Pumpkin Pudding

COLONIAL LATIN AMERICA

Arepas

Pico de gallo

Empanadas

Rice and beans

The Swain School students helped not only with sampling but also voting on the best dish. The eventual "winners" were the creators of the sweet cottage cheese fritters ("smartards"), made from the recipe on this page, although, at the risk of sounding sappy, the real winners were those of us who got to sample the many dishes on offer. In terms of experimental archaeology, students had to think through things like the provenance of ingredients and equipment (leading to conversations about matters like, "how did they get salt?" "what would this have been cooked in back then?"), identify anachronisms, and present their materials to an appreciative public. Many thanks to MoCo's Facilities services for setting up tables and chairs, letting us use the tent, and kindly ignoring the scorch mark on the grass where we placed a too-hot pazzelle maker.

A few pics below; more can be found at https://www.flickr.com/photos/moraviancollege/sets/72157686598302390

October 3, 2017

This weekend I (Jamie) attended a flint knapping workshop at Kahnawake Mohawk Territory in Quebec. After spending two days hunched over pieces of obsidian and dacite, I came away with a sore back and an appreciation for the immense skill required to shape stone into useful and beautiful tools. By the end of the second day, I had made two blades that, although clunky and rough, could cut thick leather. Though I have much to learn and many hours of practice ahead of me, it now seems possible to teach Moravian students some flint knapping basics. And if a blade proves too ambitious, students will be able to produce sharp, usable flakes.

The experience of creating a tool from ‘scratch’ makes me realize how different are my experiences of living in a capitalist, consumer society from those of past peoples and modern small-scale communities. Making tools requires patience, precision, and sticktoitiveness not often demanded by modern society. It strikes me (pun intended) that flint knapping must have been a social activity in which groups of people worked together. Skilled craftspeople taught novices and everyone learned from everyone else’s mistakes. The sense of community and belonging that grew out work like this must have been strong indeed. Given that only some stone – obsidian, flint, chert, and the like – possess properties suitable for knapping - the availability of local resources to a particular culture must have greatly influenced their tool kit, subsistence strategies, and relationships with other cultures. For many communities, long distance trade was both necessary and desirable. Few, if any, groups could afford to be isolated.

Top right: My best finished points. The one on the left is dacite and the one on the right is obsidian. Top left: Three misshapen, unfinished points. Bottom: The debitage and broken projects I saw whenever I looked down.

July 29, 2017

For the second summer in a row, Sandy is spending a month volunteering at Camphill Kimberton (camphillkimberton.org), a residential village for adults with intellectual disabilities. As part of the international Camphill organization, based around the philosophy of Rudolf Steiner and linked to the Waldorf school movement, it has a context all of its own and a truly wonderful atmosphere. But the fact that the village produces much of its own food and other essentials amidst a sea of 21st-century global capitalism makes me think about some of the ways in which small and more isolated communities managed in the past. Here are some of the things that I keep thinking about -- none is original but each is something that this environment is reinforcing for me:

• the seasonality of food and, consequently, of work. Communities that grow most of their own food, like Camphill Kimberton, are very much accustomed to boom and bust cycles of labor, while those of us who get our food from supermarkets -- where we can get any vegetable at any time of the year -- quickly become oblivious to it. We are currently deluged here with cucumbers, eggplants, tomatoes, beets, peppers, celery, and zucchinis. How to preserve them so they don't spoil? Here, that takes long hours in the kitchen and the blessings of a chest freezer or preserving jars. For people in the past, without gas stoves or electricity, preservation of food must have been incredibly time consuming at certain times of year. Much more would have been dried outside, which would then have required work to keep vermin away. Similarly, the work of producing these vegetables is intense right now. The gardeners in the house get up at 5:30am and are out working until dusk. No sooner is one row of vegetable weeded than more weeds are growing (I can attest to this because I spent two afternoons a week weeding in the enormous gardens last year). This is a peak labor time, even more than the last few weeks of the academic semester when students are up all night studying and faculty are up all night grading! Seasonality is minimized for so many of us in the modern world by our ability to store and transport food, to the point where we often forget about it; in the past, it would have been one of the most important axes of life.
• work in community is so often more rewarding than individual work. In the afternoons, I've been working in the weavery, helping to warp looms so villagers can weave. The work they do is fabulous, and it creates a sense of real pride. I was especially aware of this on Thursday when we took some photos of the many yards of fabric that C had completed on her loom over the past months (see below). The context for this work is communal. People are not constantly chattering, but occasional conversations break out, and we are aware of the rhythm of weavers beating down the thread as they make fabric. B makes rag rugs, and his loom has a deep sound to it since he needs to beat the rags in quite hard. Those using cotton weft beat more gently. I wouldn't say it is musical, exactly, but it feels like we're aware of one another and even in tune. There's a satisfaction that comes from being part of this work that isn't present in individual work. When I warp my rigid heddle loom at home, there is no one to admire it and no group of which I am part. And certainly when grading or performing administrivia, I don't get the same sense of community. When lecturing or leading a discussion, it comes closer. I wonder if students doing group research or presentations are as buoyed by community?
• I have renewed respect for those managing households in the past. Noble women in medieval society have been described as multitaskers as they went about the business of dealing with the many, many things needed to manage the supplies and labor of their households. I'm no manager here -- just a cook for one of the houses for a few weeks. But even this small position requires me to keep track of lots of different foodstuffs and lots of different helpers. The work of the villagers in food preparation and preservation is invaluable, but I need to organize and manage it quite directly. Some people are efficient but not detail-focused. Others are so detail-focused that they cannot get much done. Some are very independent and need only a brief request to take care of a long and complex process. Others need step by step directions, appreciation, and reminders. At the same time as this labor management, I'm thinking about how to get a large lunch on the table by 12:30pm, how to have dinner ready to go at 6pm with only minimal prep (as I'll be in the weavery all afternoon) and how simultaneously to prepare foods for storage. Plus a number of other complicating factors and tasks I won't bore you with. So I am reminded once more of the privilege of academic work that allows us to deal with one task at a time rather than juggling things as people -- especially women -- needed to do in the past. And as so many people in so many occupations must still do today.

July 15, 2017

Sandy has been participating in the crowd-sourced experimental archaeology project being run by Jane Malcolm-Davies on 16th-century caps (more details at http://ctr.hum.ku.dk/marie-sklodowska-curie-projects/knitting/). The crowd-sourced part involved knitting, fulling, and napping "swircles" -- the equivalent of cap liners. Participants knit four circles, then submit two of them to fulling, which causes the fibers to blend together and become stronger. The knitted texture mostly disappears. Fulling is achieved by rubbing the knitted (or woven) surface and by thumping it with the equivalent of fulling hammers. Napping is done with a teasel and involves picking up the fulled fibers in an effort to create a nap, or a sort of halo of raised fibers above the main surface. Below are Sandy's samples prior to sending off to the KEME (Knitting in Early Modern Europe) collection point, along with the materials she used for fulling. The photograph of the teasel comes from https://springwatertrails.org/2012/12/teasels-a-plant-to-know-and-use/

Sandy also attempted dyeing fabric this past week with a huge fungus found at the Deputy Center. Unfortunately it yielded no color but a dirty beige. Some mushrooms do produce wonderful colors, but this one (tentatively identified as Berkeley's polypore) seems not to be among them. Apparently it can be eaten safely, but has little flavor. No one in her household was willing to test this out, especially after ammonia and eventually white vinegar were added in efforts to extract color. The fungus was so big that it would not fit into a bucket, and the parts that were brought home were only with difficulty stuffed into a 5 gallon pot (the 12-cup coffee pot in the photograph below shows scale).

Early July 2017

Well, the blog has been a bit slow, but MoCo research in experimental archaeology continues apace. For one thing, we have the fabulous Brielle Popolla researching the history of the Deputy Center site as part of a SOAR (Student Opportunities for Academic Research) project. So far, Brielle is finding some very interesting material: for instance, the site was once part of a tract of land owned by the Totts Gap Medical Research Institute run by Dr. Stewart Wolf. Based on his local research and in conjunction with others, Dr. Wolf coined the term "Roseto effect," by which small closeknit communities (like Roseto, PA, 4 miles from our site), suffer much lower rates of heart disease than surrounding communities. As they become part of larger communities and become more Americanized, this difference in heart disease rates breaks down. Brielle has also been interviewing locals and has been pursuing stories that the site was once owned by a member of the local anti-Catholic KKK and that it housed an illegal whiskey still in the prohibition era. She will be presenting her preliminary research to the Moravian College community on July 5.

Jamie and Sandy have been out to the Deputy Center site a couple of times, but mostly they have been reading, reading, and more reading about methods and experiments. Sandy went to a weekend workshop on refining clay and producing pottery in a bonfire. The pottery firing was quite successful; although hardly beautiful (it's rather chunky), the beakers and bowl she made are at least functional. And she was impressed that it is possible to go from clay to finished product in fewer than 24 hours. She is now keen to extract some usable clay from the Deputy Center site and have a go at making more.

04/24/2017

Got back yesterday from the 10th EXARC Conference on Experimental Archaeology, held in Leiden, NL. It was fabulous! People were incredibly generous with their knowledge, both about how to do experimental archaeology and how to teach it. Below are a few pictures from demos held during conference lunch hours etc and from Leiden's impressive facilities.

And a few pictures of Leiden and of Amsterdam. Leiden seemed an especially pleasant place to live. The artifacts below are from the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam -- the 17th-century knitted hats were of particular interest to Sandy, as was St. Roch demonstrating his plague sore.

Finally, some greyhounds for MoCo from the Rijksmuseum:

03/08/17

Today, we spent half a day at the Deputy Center working on our first experimental archaeology project, a wattle fence. Hopefully it will protect native tobacco, Nicotiana rustica, we will plant later in the spring. We made good progress, digging a rectangular trench for the uprights and getting three walls up. Now we have to figure out how to make a gate. Gathering enough green wood of the right size and length certainly gave us an appreciation for the economy of labor. No wonder colonists cleared vast areas within a few years.

Some things we learned about experimental archaeology and about course preparation:

• good tools make a big difference. The hedge clippers that Sandy brought were nowhere near as useful as the heavy-duty loppers that Jamie brought. We may need some more of the latter for any students planning to do similar kinds of fencing or building. We are conscious that iron axes might be more authentic (depending on the time period) and aware how much difference modern tools made to our efforts. We did not bring hammers or mallets to drive in the upright poles; these might be useful in future fence-building efforts.
• the site has ticks! Sandy pulled an especially clingy one off her shoulder the next morning. We will have to warn students to use anti-tick spray and wear light-colored clothing.
• students should also be warned to wear gardening gloves for gathering materials unless they are willing to risk rough skin and broken nails.
• getting this far took us about 3.5 hours each of human labor, thus 7 hours total. Some of this time was spent conceptualizing and talking through our options about how to build. Better tools might have made us a bit more efficient, too.
• in doing the weaving part of a wattle fence, it really helps to have two people, one on each side of the upright poles. This would be much more challenging with only one person.
• the weaving part goes relatively fast compared with cutting and gathering the materials.
• we used rocks to steady the upright poles. Some of these rocks were dug up as we made our trench. We took others from nearby.
• the soil is an interesting mixture of dark brown topsoil and clay.
• we totally understand why spring is the ideal time for collecting materials for wattle fences. The wattles were green and pliable.