Monday, January 16, 2012
Blog #9 - House Museums
A house museum is kind of like a scrapbook. The building is preserved and there are objects collected and arranged in order to represent a moment from the past. The house hasn't been strictly preserved, it's more the idea of the house that is being preserved by collecting items and piecing together rooms that bring to life a scene from history. The house is no longer a house, but a tool used to teach people what life was like when it was a house. The goal of a house museum is scholarly in nature, but it's unique in that it exists as a real, tangible experience. So much of history is recorded only in words, drawings, and photographs. It's an entirely different experience to be able to enter a historical place and walk around in it.
The Pabst mansion is a great example of a house museum. The actual building has been preserved, but its purpose has been changed. Inside, rooms have been carefully restored into a state that may not be exactly as it once existed, but combines known elements in order to create a believable example of how it could have existed during a certain time period. Occasionally mistakes are made, as our tour guide pointed out with the pink upholstery that probably would have originally been a more conservative blue or green. Still, being able to enter a space like the Pabst mansion really transports you to another time. The mansion is completely out of place where it's located now, but on the tour you learn that the area used to have many similar buildings that were lost one by one. By preserving the Pabst mansion, the area has one remaining lifeline back to its roots. If it had not been for preservation, the history of that street could have been wiped clean.
The thing that interests me about house museums is the point where preservation and reconstruction meet. Murtagh tells the story of one house museum that had all of its most important furnishings meticulously reproduced so that the originals could be sold off and replaced with the copies. From a preservationist standpoint, this seems just plain wrong. You're throwing out everything that makes the house historic. If you believe that the real merit of a house museum is its usefulness as a three-dimensional teaching tool, though, then does it matter if it's all original or not? In the Pabst mansion there is a reproduction of a large chandelier that dominates the entryway of the house. The actual chandelier is in the possession of a bar somewhere, and they wouldn't give it up, hence the reproduction. It definitely needs to be there, it's a major part of the room and speaks volumes about the German heritage and culture of the Pabst family. Does it matter that it's not the original? And if one is to be so forgiving as to allow that, how much of the experience needs to consist of original, preserved objects? Or does it simply matter that the reproductions rest on a foundation of preservation?
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Blog #8 - Urbanized
One of the cities featured in the movie was Phoenix, Arizona, a place I visited once a couple summers ago. Urbanized cites Phoenix as the worst offender of what has been called "sprawl." While visiting, we found it was impossible to get anywhere without a car, most trips requiring a short drive on one of the highways. Residential areas are winding streets lined with squat, cookie-cutter homes painted in southwestern desert colors with palm trees and cacti out front. In the movie, a representative of Phoenix laments the fact that the growing city is eating up the beautiful desert, but he defends Phoenix against being labelled "sprawl." He insists that Phoenix is maintaining the population density it has always had. This happens, of course, at the cost of destroying the landscape. Toward the end of the interview, the man says frankly that he likes having a house, yard, pool, and car, and that's what it comes down to. His preferred lifestyle simply comes at the expense of destroying the desert.
Later, the movie moves to the city of Stuttgart, Germany. We are introduced to two warring sides on the issue of a project called Stuttgart 21, which includes the construction of a high-speed rail system. The mayor explains the project as a necessary step for the city, replacing the aging and largely unusable tangle of older tracks and the crumbling station with a futuristic, eco-friendly underground railway. He had a beautiful model, and honestly, I was sold. Next we were introduced to the protesting members of the public, who were numerous. It turns out some of them quite like their crumbling old station. More than that, though, they like the beautiful park full of humongous and irreplaceable ancient trees that would have to be removed in order for construction on the railway to begin. One resident speaks of how important these gorgeous trees are, telling the story of the townspeople during Germany's great depression searching for any scrap of wood to burn for warmth, but leaving the trees untouched. Just as I came around to the anti-Stuttgart 21 side, the scene changed to a recording of workers with chainsaws slicing through the ancient trees while riot police beat back screaming townspeople. As I said, I didn't expect to cry during this movie, especially not because of Germans cutting down trees, but watching these powerless people cry out in despair as corporate-backed politicians literally uprooted their past really got to me. Some things are worth more than "development." There are more important ideas in this world than "progress." I was so sold on the idea of a high-speed train, but in the end, I was reminded of this excerpt from Douglas Adams' classic book, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, which takes place after the complete demolition of the Earth by alien bureaucrats.
The trouble with most forms of transport, he thought, is basically one of them not being worth all the bother. On Earth—when there had been an Earth, before it was demolished to make way for a new hyperspace bypass—the problem had been with cars. The disadvantages involved in pulling lots of black sticky slime from out of the ground where it had been safely hidden out of harm's way, turning it into tar to cover the land with, smoke to fill the air with and pouring the rest into the sea, all seemed to outweigh the advantages of being able to get more quickly from one place to another—particularly when the place you arrived at had probably become, as a result of this, very similar to the place you had left, i.e. covered with tar, full of smoke and short of fish.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Blog #7 - Lake Park
We visited Lake Park on a rainy morning in late October. Emerging from the dry safety of our cars, we walked down some concrete stairs and convened in a sort of alcove behind and underneath the main building. A group of women practiced yoga on one end of the alcove while Dr. Chris introduced us to the park. The drizzling rain subsided and we set off on our exploration. The park consisted of elements common to most parks; grass, trees, and a series of small landmarks connected by paths. Lake Park has the added bonus of (as its name suggests) a view of the lake.
We met up with a member of the Lake Park Friends, who explained some of the history of the park. He told us about the designer, Frederick Law Olmsted, who is famous for designing Central Park in New York City. This fact instantly elevated my perception of the park. This wasn't just some park in Wisconsin anymore, this was a slice from the mind who carved that famous green rectangle into the Big Apple. This wasn't just any park, this park had credentials, and for that reason I understood why this place was significant enough to be preserved. This space had been carefully designed by capable minds, our experiences while walking these paths were carefully engineered. It seemed to me that preserving a park like this simply involved two parts routine maintenance and one part "let it be." Altering the park would not only be offensive to the intent of the original designer, but also to the people who have come to love it. After all, that's what is important about a park like this. It belongs to everyone, it's a part of us. Mount Vernon was important to save because it was the home of someone beloved to us, but Lake Park deserves to be saved because the park itself is beloved to us. The park and our collective experiences there belong to all of us.
That doesn't mean the park isn't in a constant state of flux. Time marches on, after all, and there's plenty to consider as it marches across the many opulent bridges in the park. We were told that the bridges had recently undergone massive restoration, which goes far beyond my recipe of routine maintenance and "let it be," but in this case a necessary ingredient in preserving what is most important about the park, the experience. After all, it isn't the metal and stone making up the bridge that belong to us. It's the experience of walking across it, looking over the side and out to the lake, strolling along and listening the rustle of the wind in the trees.
Later that day we entered the old North Point Lighthouse where we were greeted by a pair of lighthouse enthusiasts. After listening to the biographies of every keeper in the history of the lighthouse, we were invited to climb the spiral staircase to where the light once marked the coast. As we climbed to the top our guide grilled us on our knowledge of lighthouses. I don't remember much of what was said, but I do recall his enthusiasm. The view from the top was nice, but I felt that the reasons for the preservation and restoration of the lighthouse were separate from the reasons for the preservation and restoration of the rest of the park. Where as the park was an open space made to be discovered and experienced, the lighthouse was a nonfunctional artifact turned into a museum. It wasn't an exploration, it was a tour, and as such it didn't feel as if it belonged to me like the park did. It belonged to the lighthouse enthusiasts.
Not to say the lighthouse is underserving of preservation, it makes me happy to know that it is there and it is loved. It is interesting to me that it represents a different kind of preservation from the park. Where as the park is living and changing while preserving the experience, the lighthouse is dissected and frozen in a new state that retells the story of its past, but ceases to be a part of it. The lighthouse no longer lights, its fresnel lens rotates in a glass case on the ground floor. It hasn't been preserved so much as turned into a mausoleum for itself. Which case can we point to as an example of preservation? Is it one, the other, both, or neither?
Monday, January 9, 2012
Blog #6 - Eiffel Tower
While studying historic preservation, I have been very interested in the reasons why people feel sites should be preserved. It's amazing how different people can have diametrically opposed opinions on whether or not the same structure should stay or go. I wanted to investigate an example of historic preservation that stands as an example of a great success despite meeting opposition. The Eiffel Tower in Paris, France struck me as just such an example. When the Tower was constructed it was both loved and reviled by different groups. It wasn't even meant to be a permanent structure, but through various efforts and good fortune it has been made to last until this day, and is now internationally beloved and recognized as an icon of Paris.
The aim of researching the story of the Eiffel Tower is to find out how a structure with such an uncertain future wound up being preserved. I intend to find out who Gustave Eiffel was and why he was chosen to design the tower. Why was the tower being built in the first place? What is it made of? How was the design of the tower new and different? When it was built, who didn't like it, and why? How did Eiffel defend it? How did it come to be preserved? What practical or economic uses has it served? What kind of maintenance needs to be done to keep it standing? From all these questions I intend to illuminate the "why" of preservation, and perhaps shed some light on why it might be important to preserve buildings that may not be very well liked today, but could be important in the future.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Blog #2 - Naper Settlement
I grew up in a city outside Chicago called Naperville, named for its founder Joe Naper. The Naperville I know is a sprawl of McMansions, SUV's, and chain restaurants. The reason the name Joe Naper is so familiar to me is because smack dab in the heart of downtown Naperville is Naper Settlement, a sort of outdoor living museum celebrating the history of its namesake. In middle school we went on a field trip to Naper Settlement where we were treated to a tour of the collection of preserved and restored buildings that had been picked up and dropped next door to each other.
Being an impudent middle-schooler, I wasn't very interested in many of the old buildings, except for the blacksmith's shop because there was an actual blacksmith at work in there. In fact, there was an entire cast of players populating Naper Settlement, all in period dress and ready to explain this or that about their fictitious old-timey lifestyle. At one point on the tour we discovered a man who admitted to being a runaway slave on his way to freedom via the underground railroad. I figured he was pretty safe having reached northern Illinois, but he pleaded with us not to tell anyone we had found him, so we agreed. He explained his hardships to us and spoke passionately of his dream to become free. He turned to me, stared me right in the eye, and asked, "What is freedom like?" I thought for a second, and paraphrasing Douglas Adams I told him, "Freedom is like a grapefruit. It's sort of orangy-yellow and dimpled on the outside, it's wet and squidgy in the middle, and lots of people have half of one for breakfast." He looked to my teacher and said, "This boy is touched, ain't he?"
I never grew out of being a smartass, but I did learn to appreciate having a slice of town that wasn't in constant danger of being turned into a Starbucks. Even if a lot of it seemed fakey, it was cool that the driving force behind it was saving some great old buildings and anchoring the city with a sense of history. There's something about being able to take a walk from a working blacksmith to the Apple store that really puts things in perspective.
It makes me appreciate Ann Pamela Cunningham and her quest to save Mount Vernon. While reading about her, it struck me as funny that the way she kicked off American preservationism with a group of women. I wondered why there were no men in her group. Were they not interested in preservation? Was she not interested in involving men? Was it the name of the group, the Mount Vernon Ladies' Association of the Union, that made men assume that preservation was for women? Whatever the reason, according to Murtagh, Cunningham's group set assumptions in the preservation movement that would last until the late 19th century. Preservation was done by private parties to honor patriotic icons, and "women would assume a dominant role in the acquisition and management of such properties." Imagining the state of women's rights in this time period (before women could even vote) it's nice to know women could step in and dominate something this important.
Eventually men got in on preservation as well, and as assumptions about the field fell, the government became involved. According to Murtagh, "There was simply no nationwide organization which could respond to controversial preservation issues with greater alacrity and freedom than could government." After looking up the word "alacrity," I couldn't really picture any government body acting with "brisk and cheerful readiness," but perhaps things were different back then. Nevertheless, the National Trust grew off of the National Park Service as a way to unify the nation's preservation efforts. The National Trust grew and took on a life of its own, establishing itself as an entity independent of the National Park Service. After battling its way through the political system, President Truman signed a bill in 1949 to create the National Trust for Historic Preservation in the United States. The rest, as they say, is history.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Blog #8
Blog #5
The Iron Horse Hotel Is an amazing place to see old history brought together with modern touches and ambiance. It is a darkened modern place with eccentric touches that both invites the patron but also cause them to think in a new way. All of the modern touches mixed with eclectic furnishings and ambiance lead one the find the Iron Horse a trip into the past, in the most beautifully way I could find. I love the idea of exposed brick mixed with exacting IKEA furniture and other modern touches that make the place both feel lived in, and relevant, despite its warehouse beginnings. The iron horse was part of the revival that the 5th ward of Milwaukee wet through to try and meet up with the chic third ward and the entire city leaving its more industrial roots and attempting to reach into the future with a more metropolitan feel. I enjoy the ambiance of the iron horse, it is my taste in aesthetic That I have always dreamed in order to who my own personality on furnishings. The iron horse is the epitome of my personal taste mixed with the ideals of this class and what preservation can do to bring a shelter from a bunch of walls into a useful and beautiful , relevant place that will one day showcase the most modern furnishings with in beautifully antiquated walls.
Blog #9
Blog #7
Blog #6
Blog #5
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| this is what they have... |
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Open Air Museums - Old World Wisconsin

An open-air museum is a distinct type of museum exhibiting its collections out-of-doors. The first was Henry Ford's Greenfield Village in Dearborn, Michigan, where Ford intended his collection to be "a pocket edition of America". But it was Colonial Williamsburg which had a greater influence on museum development in North America. Open air museums are important to our understanding of history in its natural form or location. Visitors are able to get "the full experience" while they view artifacts, structures or spaces. Many of these areas are wonderful in educating people about specific topics.
When I was younger I visited Old World Wisconsin in Eagle, Wisconsin. I think I was about 8 years old when I went to this open air museum. The experience is something I still carry with me today. I remember vividly seeing all of the actors working and performing tasks a if it really was "the old world". The space seemed super real, but this may just be because at 8 years old you are rather naive. The museum's more than 60 historic structures range from ethnic farmsteads with furnished houses and rural outbuildings, to a crossroads village with its traditional small-town institutions. The efforts of countless historians have preserved an amazing slice of true Americana — one that will be enjoyed for generations to come.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Blog #9 The Builtmore Estate

I grew up in a historically restored home, this was not a pleasant experience for me as a child, but because of my parents desire to live in such a home, I was dragged during my younger years to many a different historical home in order to “experience” the way people “once lived in finer times”. Whatever that means. I remember best being dragged all the way to North Carolina once to see the majestic Biltmore estate house, a massive estate that covers more than 8,000 acres and is still owned by the Vanderbilt family. It is a huge, running, self sustaining estate that allows people to visit , volunteer and experience life as any fabulously rich person in 1895 might have wanted to. It sports a year round team of curators, gardeners and staff dedicated to running the estate as it always has been since it’s building. Now, This is an estate that although massive, imposing and beautiful, it is also useful. I harp in the course over and over about the need to consider the use of a place for preservation purposes. Although it is a great means of generating revenue, it also preserves artisan and craftsmen wonders, a vintage car collection (all running and restored might I add!) as well as acres of land that is carefully tended and protected.
This estate preserves a lifestyle, a landscape and a way of life that is all too close to bei
ng lost in America. I believe that the use of this estate far outweighs the drag, over-indulgence and pompous nature I feel for it, perhaps because of my resentment of my own upbringing. The benefit it gives to arts, technology education and philanthropy is beyond something like a preserved home in Chicago, not open to the public, could ever hope to have, so despite my resentment, the place of such a museum is important and necessary to ourselves as preservationists and students of history.
Blog #8

The Environment and Preservation
One part of my life that was well influenced by environmental preservation was the presence of indoor gardens or greenhouses in Chicago. Now, these sites were not considered the “environment” to the point at which they were large landscapes being protected and watched over by the government, but the acts of privet owners and volunteers to bring the rare, the natural and the beautiful into the lives of us urban folk. The Garfield Park conservatory is one of the most beautiful and complete greenhouses I have ever seen. The Garfield Park Conservatory is one of the largest and most stunning conservatories in the nation. Often referred to as "landscape art under glass," the Garfield Park Conservatory occupies approximately 4.5 acres inside and out, and includes ] thousands of plants that are grown each year for displays in City parks and spaces. Garfield Park Conservatory is located in Garfield Park — an 184-acre site located on Chicago's redeveloping Westside designed as a pleasure ground by William LeBaron Jenney — and is the oldest of the three great original Westside parks (Humboldt, Garfield, and Douglas). Their mission statement is that :
“The Garfield Park Conservatory Alliance, a non-profit organization, strengthens community through the unique combination of the Garfield Park Conservatory Campus, other botanical resources, and the engagement of community members. With its innovative programs, the Alliance enhances the environmental, social and economic vitality of Chicago’s West Side and encourages the larger community to explore the fundamental connection between plants and human life.”
Because the conservatory is located in such a devastated area in Chicago it is often looked over, yet it is somehow never ignored. The people that the site brings in often have to face and notice the area surrounding the conservatory, thus making it impossible to ignore. This space is not only open for educational purposes, art exhibitions, (like the best on I ever saw, the Chihuly glassworks exhibit!) parties and other events, but also just the regular patron who wants to experience nature from all corners of the globe. I have seen butterfly exhibits, plants I never would unless I traveled thousands of miles, and art that can only be appreciated in such a vast and creative environment. Like I said, this is not a spot of wilderness, but a carefully tended slice of nature nestled into the urban landscape opening up the ability to experience nature, art, history and science all at once, in one area. It is something worth investing time and money into, because it holds natural wonders and beauties inside glass that otherwise could be lost, or frankly, never discovered, by anyone but those who seek out botany as one of their life missions. Such organizations should be saved and supported both communally and governmentally, though it is somehow the responsibility of the people of Chicago to maintain and care for this apex of environmental preservation.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011

The house museum is significant to American culture for the main reason that they represent the original function and teach how the occupants of the house lived and it exhibits the objects they used in their everyday lives. Even open- air museum persevere not only the buildings structures, but in most cases they try to preserve the original environment it was placed in. The best-known open-air museum to most of us is Old World Wisconsin. The Pabst Mansion was a great way to show how even in restoration process they tried to keep as much of the original building intact. Compared to most museums when you view through the glass window, I was able to connect more with the inhabitant of the Pabst family. Being able to see the real photographs of family members on the walls and the original furniture. Even looking closer to the artifacts, like the hair combs and light fixtures, gave you a new appreciation for the space. The details that really stood out to be were the family’s strong presence of their heritage throughout the house. The father’s study was probably the most interesting aspect of the house. The stain glass windows in the study had German phrases embedded in them. This was even located in the kitchen windows as well. The intricate wood working on the ceiling of the study had painted ‘words of wisdom.’ It helped you imagine the family values that were probably instilled in the children while growing up. None of this would have been experienced first had if you were unable to enter the room and move around. I’m not saying those museums are not important as well, but they are better suited for a different age group. For little kids who want to touch and feel everything, these house museums are probably not the best place to go, but for young adults it’s a great tool to help experience a particular space as if it were in a different time period and help them grasp their surroundings more efficiently. It may be more expensive to save and maintain but it is definitely more effective learning tool and seems more accurate just because you can see the details up close. It doesn't look as staged. Given the house didn't have the generalized interior compared to most houses of that time period due to the family's wealth. It still showed typical patterns of their everyday life, like how the kitchen was in the back of the house to avoid the food smells from spreading, the hooks on the out side of the bedroom for the laundry, and even the emphasis on family livings spaces.
I remember when I went to Monticello the most lasting impressions of the foundations is the fact that the house showed mechanisms that he created himself. He created a system over the door frame that told not only the time of day but also the day of the week. It was just another example of moving through the space that shows in more detail of certain parts of the foundation that makes the connection to the past more intimate.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Open-Air
Old World Wisconsin in Eagle, Wisconsin is an open-air museum. The museum recreates the farms / settlements established by European immigrants. “Teams” of oxen and horses working in the fields are part of the exhibit, as well as farms preparing meals over wood-burning stoves.
It is usually more entertaining then just walking around a typical museum that is in a building. I think looking at items behind glass and not getting that interaction is one of the biggest problems traditional museums have. The people that run them know that, that is why you will see museums trying to create some kind of environment for its visitors.
I remember how cool the old Milwaukee and the rainforest sections of Milwaukee Public Museum was when I was a child. The last time I was there was about a year ago and I was more then disappointed. Parts of that Museum are pathetic! Everything seems to have a nice coat of dust. For crying out loud spend a day going around using a Swiffer duster.
Also most all of the “displays” seem out of date, as far as the looks. They do not utilizing technology. Milwaukee Public Museum needs a major face-lift. But do not get me wrong; traditional museums can just be as good as open-air museum. Both offer something unique, they both have to be up kept though to keep people coming.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Different From The Rest
Being able to go inside a house like this, you get a feel for how the owners lived, what they did day by day and just how the land around you has changed since the house was built. With that kind of opportunity to go back in the past (sort of) and get a sense of everything really changes your perspective on things especially if you are really into a museum-like career. My aunt is one of three people that work at the Kneeland-Walker house in Wauwatosa. That itself is a historical building from 1890. She loves history and preservation. She really gets into the dirt of what really happened with where ever she goes to explore. Having her kind of love for beautiful buildings such as the Pabst Mansion really gives us a gift of the past. They are able to save what could be torn down. They are able to give us a piece of the past that could not only teach us a thing or two but change our views on what we do today.
Time Travel
Everyone knows you learn from your past. Historical events are told over and over again through the years. You’re history books are littered with events and people and historical significance. These books usually leave something vital out and that is the way of life that was kept in the past. This is where historic rooms, house museums, and outdoor museums can fill in those holes. They can take you back in time so to speak. To give you a simulation, a glimpse at the lives the people of the past lived. You can see the type of furniture they lounged or did work on. The art they chose to surround themselves with. In Keeping Time by Murtagh he talks about a historic room or house museum as a three dimensional historical document. I think that describes it well because the intended purpose of any historic room, or house museum is to be educational. To teach us how the original occupants of lived. To teach us about their habits, tastes and coveted objects. It can give us a skewed view however. The culturally/historically important are usually the buildings that are saved. This can tend to be aimed at a higher economic bracket if you will. So it can be easy to think that this is how the majority lived during that house’s given time period. A great example of this is displayed with the recent visit to Captain Frederick Pabst Mansion. This beautiful mansion which is slowly and meticulously being restored gives a wonderful look back to a period. The problem is you can miss the fact while this million dollar mansion was being build in Milwaukee, down the road people were still living in log cabins. This is where outdoor museums can help give a more complete picture set with the same educational purpose they comprise of multiple buildings restored or recreated to give that simulation to interpret a historical or cultural setting. This range can give a more broad look at the lives of people during a time in the past. Unfortunately this can become even more misleading than just viewing one level of an economic class during a period. Some outdoor museums can get out of control to the point of amusement park like entertainment if this happens the educational aspect of the museum can be lost. Regardless of a few short comings the educational value of these museums is extremely high. There really is no other way short of time travel that you can experience so closely the way someone lived from another time. This might not seem like such a necessity but if you look at the way you live to day and try to reflect on what influences your decisions and choices you make in your everyday life your environment is a huge factor. So if we can understand the way of life for the people of the past maybe we can understand on some level the reasoning behind the choices that were made that led to the world we live in today.
It's an Experience
An open-air museum or an historic house museum is a learning experience that is unique in a way that allows a person to experience, rather than just read or listen to a blurb on the history of something. A person can be emerged into an environment where they can see and sometimes smell and touch what the subject is. One can activate all of their senses instead of just one or two. A concept of a certain subject or time in history that is taught by an open-air museum or house museum can become better understood to an individual.
For example, as kids, interactivity in a certain subject gave us better understanding of what a subject was. Going to the Betty-Brinn museum in elementary school, we explored how the human body works, different professions, how crops grow, and how physics works by interacting with specific exhibits. Though this museum is different than an open-air museum or historic museum, in the same way, it allows a person to experience something to spark a better understanding.
As a community, we can learn about architectural styles of the past. New architectural styles are always derived and altered from the past. We can also learn about the way our community used to be. Since house museums are not typically still lived in or used in the way they were in the past, they showcase a moment in time that once was. House museums can remind us that change is always happening and it is inevitable. Something that once was the center and pride of a community may be and probably will be something different in the future.
One of my favorite open-air museums is Medieval Times in Illinois. You’re emerged into this scene of the renaissance. People at Medieval Times dress and talk like people from that era and the experience is captivating. You get a meal like the people of the past got to feast on and you get to experience all of these activities that used to be enjoyed during the medieval times.
One of my favorite historic house museums is one I had mentioned in an earlier blog. This fall, I visited the Yerkes Observatory in Williams Bay. The Observatory was built in the 1890s and still is home to the telescope that once was the worlds largest refracting lens telescope. I am still in awe of what I saw when I went. I could spend days there scoping out all of the details on the outside and inside of the building.
One of the more well-known house museums I visited is Mount Vernon. I loved seeing Mount Vernon because I am intrigued by American history. It was neat to see where the Washington’s had once lived. My favorite part was the view of the Potomac River. Looking out at the river that George and Martha used to look at and to stand on the lawn where they used to host picnics for friends and colleagues was one of those ‘out of body’ experiences.
We can learn a lot from house museums and open-air museums if run by the right people and maintained well.








