It was late in the evening when I was working in the range, putting away a cannon ball in one of the larger cabinets when I found myself nose to nose with a large carved devils head!  It had strikingly green cat-like eyes, a black painted face with two red stripes on both cheeks, and needless  to say, scared the pants off  me! Once I recovered from the initial scare, I went back to lab and checked the data base to learn more about the terrifying head I encountered.

I  discovered that it was the creation of William Yanert, an early Alaskan pioneer.  After further research,  I had become intrigued by his devil’s head and other carvings in the collection.  During the spring semester, I was given an opportunity in an art history class to do more in-depth research on William Yanert, employing the museum’s collection of his work.

Yanert was born in Olschyna, Prussia on March 3^rd 1864 and immigrated to the US around 1881 and shortly after enlisted in the U. S. Army.  While in the army, Yanert served with the Fifth and Sixth Calvary in the Indian Wars, trained in cartography, and was dispatched in 1897 as a member of Capt. Edwin Glenn’s Alaska Exploring Expedition, scouting and reporting on the conditions between Skagway to Lake Bennett (later this trail became the Chilkoot Trail of the 1898 gold rush).  He was assigned to map the Haines Mission and surrounding country, various tributaries of Susitna River, as well as reporting on and mapping the Healy and Talkeetna Mountain area. As a civil engineer, he mapped regions of McKinley Park and Dyea area.  He was also the first man to explore Broad Pass, where the Alaska Railroad runs through.

Herman (Left) and William (Right) Yanert standing outside of their cabin on the Yukon; with moose horns hung over the door and a carved sign that read, “Search not the world for happiness, You’ll find her not on land or sea, no use looking for her address, for she lives right here with me”.

St. Nicolas was carved from a birch burl, with horns, green bottle eyes, and red cape draped around his shoulders.

After his army career, Yanert retired in 1903 and was determined to make his place amidst the land he had come to love so much.  He built a cabin and named the land in the Yukon Flats he claimed “Purgatory“, because it was “one hell of a place to live”. A few years later, William’s brother, Herman, came to join him.

Over the years, the brothers had developed quite the reputation for peevishness.  Steamboats, carrying tourists, had stopped at Purgatory to stock up on wood, Alaskan hospitality and the Yanert’s practical jokes. This included the devil’s head that I had stumbled upon.  The “devil” was named St. Nicolas, and dubbed the Patron Saint of Purgatory.   William had him wired to the cabin so that he could wave “hello” or “goodbye” to those passing by on the Yukon.  Other devils and imps were carved out of the burls from birch trees and rigged up like jack-in-the-boxes.

Anyone coming down the river was welcomed at Purgatory by St. Nicholas and the brothers, even unexpected guests such as the Evancoe brothers, who in 1937, were floating down the Yukon River. According to a letter Paul Evancoe  wrote to the museum in 1976, he recalled that they had fallen asleep, and were “awakened by a gruff voice, ‘Why the hell don’t you fellas come up to the cabin?’…so we pulled our kayak ashore and proceeded to the Yanert cabin situated back a short distance from the river bank…Well, we spend three of the most delightful days as their guests.  Inside their cabin were shelves of carvings that they made of wood, ivory, and bone.”

“The Stampeeder” Yanert used whatever materials he had available to him, including cigar boxes.
Catalog number 0768-0038

William would carve and paint a range of characters, including those from Shakespearian plays such as Othello, Desdemona, and Yorick as well as scenes of the people who lived in Alaska; mushers, natives, hunters, and gold miners.  These images were often done on cigar boxes that had been repurposed as a painting board of sorts.

Catalog number 0768-0006

He also carved figures from moose or caribou antlers. The carvings, inspired by the pioneer life he lived, also reflected his philosophy on life, which would often accompany his work in title form, or with a snippet of poetry that was incorporated into the work.  Later, he published a collection of his poems, titled Yukon Breezes, accompanied by his hand colored illustrations.

They spent their lives surviving off of and surrounded by their hard work.  Their cabin at Purgatory was filled with handmade furniture and decorated with carvings.  The front of the cabin was bedecked with totems, some more than twenty feet high.   In the 40 years he lived there, he only left once, when his health took a turn for the worse in the fall of 1941 and a year later, he passed away.

The majority of his works, carvings, paintings, photographs, and a copy of his poem, Yukon Breezes, were donated to the University of Alaska Museum of the North by Ralph Newcomb and Herman Yanert in 1943.  The collection in the museum is just a snippet of what was once the glorious and remarkable Purgatory.  We can sill enjoy the humor and sincerity of William’s artwork in the Alaska Classics Gallery in the University of Alaska Museum of the North, as well as the writings and photographs of the Yanerts in the Alaska and Polar Regions Collections and Archives at the Elmer. E. Rasmuson Library here, at UAF.

]]> http://akethnogirl.wordpress.com/2012/03/16/things-i-never-thought-id-have-to-do-in-a-museum/ Sat, 17 Mar 2012 06:43:41 +0000 AKEthnoGirl http://akethnogirl.wordpress.com/2012/03/16/things-i-never-thought-id-have-to-do-in-a-museum/ Working in a museum brings all sorts of exciting and new experiences. While processing a loan of Bradford Washburn material, going to the Anchorage Museum at Rasmuson Center, the curator of the show requested a few historic food cans. Food cans that still had food in them. YIKES!

I remembered that Ellen Carrlee, Conservator at the Alaska State Museum, had recently posted a set of instructions in the ASM Bulletin #35 (Winter 2010) on how to safely empty and clean out old cans of food (salmon, in this case). I followed her steps and safely emptied out eight cans of “Bolton Whole Meal Biscuit Ration,” which turned out to be crackers (think whole-wheat pilot bread); two cans of C-Ration Fruit Cakes (no, I did not sample them); one can of Simplot Instant Potatoes; and one can of Pemmican used in a 1971 Polar Expedition to the North Pole (which I had to dig out of the can and plan on adding to our Frozen Tissues collection for future analysis).

I only had one gross-out moment, when the last can of crackers ended up having a compromised seal and the remnants of a few “friends” were found lurking inside.

Here are some photos that documented the process. Be sure to click on each for the full experience. Enjoy!

Supplies for opening historic food cans (aka Personal Protective Equipment aka PPE).

The fumehood in our Collections Prep Lab served as my workspace for a couple of hours. Fully lit, it provided me with great protection from the unknown.

Biscuits... aka crackers. I had no idea what I might find inside these tins.

In my head I imagined gooey, uncooked baking powder biscuits ala Pilsbury biscuits in the cooler case! So, I wrapped the precious historic paper label with carefully cut Mylar and held it in place with stretch film.

Drumroll please!!!!!

OH! "Biscuits" as in crackers! Of course!

Dump the biscuits into the bucket!

Inside the relatively clean can after dumping out all the biscuits. A rinse with some bleach and a wipe down with paper towels and this can was done!

And then there was the last can of biscuits... oh gross.

It took some elbow grease, but eventually, this mess was cleaned up and the inside looked as good as the other cans.

On to the fruit cakes! Excitement loomed as I remembered the c-rations my dad had showed me and my brother as kids... then I remembered how long ago that was...

Hmmm, moist.

Or is it?

Anyone else thinking "hockey puck?"

Finally, something simple... orange potato powder!

And last but not least... the 1971 pemmican! Notice the grease leaching from the "seal" along the end. Probably a good thing I finally got around to doing this!

NOT the texture of corned beef hash, no matter the resemblance! I had to dig this stuff out with a plastic spatula!

Coat it all with some bleach, snap the lid onto the bucket, and call it a day! One I won't soon forget!

Donor: Joshua Reuther

Blue Marlin t-shirt.

As a former UAF student and local musician, Joshua Reuther was quite familiar with The Marlin, a local pub close to campus and known for its “close quarters” and eclectic musical performances. While working many years ago at The Doghouse (now Pad Thai Restaurant) he was given a Blue Marlin t-shirt by the owner Gerry Ostrow. As with most pubs, the Marlin had undergone changes in ownership and with that change, a slight variation to the business name. The Blue Marlin name represents the bar at a time prior to ca. 1996 when it was known for having the “best damn pizza in Alaska,” according to this t-shirt. While it may seem odd to have a t-shirt in a museum collection, we actually have 13 such shirts! We find that t-shirts are a straightforward technique for representing pop culture of a local community, with their period-specific graphics and messages. They are ubiquitous, and therefore, a veritable requirement for a history collection.

Denali cookie handed out to VIPs who attended a big-top tent celebration at Tok, AK, summer 2008.

Vehicle magnet, given to contractors to signal their participation in the project.

Flying disk, used during the summer 2011 at the Meade Site, a UAF archaeological field school sponsored by Denali.

Baseball cap bearing the Denali logo.

Also donated by Reuther, an archaeologist who works for Northern Land Use Research in Fairbanks, are a collection of items used by NLUR while working on surveys for Denali – the Alaska Gas Pipeline project. The company, an LLC of ConocoPhillips and BP,  formerly closed their operations on May 17, 2011 citing “a lack of customer support.” This controversial company was conducting the preliminary surveys to move forward on a route to bring natural gas to the Lower-48, while the state of Alaska was working on a separate route through the AGIAprocess. These four artifacts bear the logo of Denali and were distributed to contractors as part of their advertising campaign and will now help serve as symbols of this story of one of the first “boom and busts” of the gas line process.

Polar bear carving by QAY.

Donor: Grace Berg Schaible

Polar bear mother and cub, carved by QAY.

Grace Schaible has long been a friend to the UA Museum of the North. Grace is known for being Alaska’s first female attorney general (1987-1989) and an avid art collector. A major component of Grace’s collection are representations of polar bears, both in 2D and 3D. In 2011 she donated two very large whale bone carvings of polar bears, carved by Ronald “QAY” Apangalook (Qaygeghutaq) originally of Gambell, St. Lawrence Island, Alaska. In these two lovely pieces, QAY uses baleen for the eyes and nose and in the single bear, walrus ivory for the bear’s claws. Pieces like this are especially welcome in the Ethnology collection because whale bone is a relatively stable medium that can hold up to more lengthy exhibition periods and slightly more variable environmental conditions (compared to more vulnerable materials like dyed skin or grass or sculptural materials like wood or walrus ivory).

"Porcupine Nest" by Craig E. Dorman, 2010.

Donor: Craig E. Dorman, Ph.D.

One of the last donations of 2011 is an incredible set of seven nesting baskets, made by the donor, Craig E. Dorman. Dr, Dorman is a past director of the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute, retired rear Admiral and program director for anti-submarine warfare in the Space and Naval Warfare Systems Command. Most recently, Dorman was the Vice President for Research with the University of Alaska.

Dorman produces these baskets, known as Nantucket Lightship Baskets, now that he is retired. He documents them with great detail and the workmanship is outstanding. His innovations include tiny twists in the weavers and staves that are dyed or made from varied materials, as in these baskets. In this set of seven tightly-nested baskets there are a total of 4915 curls! This tiny detail is one of the reasons this group of baskets won the Division 10 Grand Prize at the 2011 Tanana Valley State Fair. We are proud to be the new owners of this treasure.

The inside of the outermost basket, showing the exquisite symmetry and precision of weaving.

Informational document developed by Dorman to accompany his lightship baskets.

A detail of the outermost basket, showing the upward and downward facing twists, in addition to the baleen and cherry staves.

I tend to look at years like this as a much-needed respite from the sometimes maniacal frenzy we find ourselves in, trying to keep up with the paperwork, photography, custom-box-making, and the detailed descriptions that accompany every single object that comes through our doors. On average, it takes something like 5 to 6 hours to fully process every single object that we accession into our permanent collection. It can easily be double that if the object requires stabilization or cleaning, or if the custom support is complicated to design and execute. But two of the first things we teach our students who work with our collections is to “take your time,” and “be careful.”

Donor: Jackie Niemi

Jackie Niemi, formerly of Circle, donated this very unique clothing pin that is made from locally-mined gold nuggets and two small cables from the airship Norge. The pin was made by Harry Greep, sometime after 1926 (the year the Norge “landed” outside of Teller, Alaska, following the first officially-documented overflight of the North Pole). Greep was, at the time, the U.S. Road Commissioner, as well as Postmaster at Circle Hot Springs. The pin was originally owned by Niemi’s great-grandparents, Oscar and Eli (Ella) Larsen. It went to her grandmother, Ruth (Larsen) and  her husband, Roy Olson. Jackie inherited it around 30 years ago.

Donor: Alyeska Pipeline Service Company

The delivery of the pig.

S.U.N. Engineering Hybrid-B Super Pig, in operation in the Trans Alaska Pipeline System, from 2007-08 until 2010. This pipeline cleaning device was decommissioned in 2011 when they went to an all-disk pig.  Alyeska offered to replace our aging pig, that was donated to the Museum back in 1984. It has been part of our exterior exhibits since its donation, and the full-sun exposure and placement among spruce and aspen trees has caused major deterioration to its rubber components. It has been deaccessioned from our permanent collection, but will remain part of our comparative collection and housed off-site. Our new Super Pig has been installed in new custom cradles on the northern side of our building, to help protect it from the damaging sun rays, but with excellent visibility for visitors to enjoy. (See the UAMN Facebook page for a great photo album showing the delivery of the pig.)

Donor: John R. Bockstoce

Snowshirt from Red Bay, Labrador.

Snowshirt from Point Hope.

Snowshirt from Point Hope.

Snowshirt from Point Hope.

The well-known and greatly respected northern archaeologist and historian, John R. Bockstoce, in 2011 added four “snowshirts” or parka covers, to our collection. Three of these lovely, but utterly functional, garments were made by Inupiaq skinsewer/seamstress Sarah Nipiq Kingik of Point Hope, around 1974. They were worn by Bockstoce while working on a whale crew in Point Hope. The fourth was purchased at a store in Red Bay, Labrador, ca. 1995. Snowshirts are fabric covers that one wears over a parka when hunting on the sea ice. They are the ultimate in camouflage, blending the hunter into the white expanse of the northern coasts.

Because we can only exhibit a small portion of our collections each year, we typically put out the new acquisitions at our Open House, which used to take place in December. Open House now occurs in the spring, several months into the new year and the immediacy of the exhibition of the materials from the previous year is somehow lessened. As a way of reaching another audience, I will present the donations of 2011 over the next few days.

Donor: Candy Waugaman

Doll paddling sealskin kayak.

This doll is made from sealskin, is wearing a gut parka, and is paddling a Bering Sea style kayak, also made from seal skin. It was purchased in Arizona in 2011, was probably made in the Chevak region, and was made sometime in the last twenty years. It measures 25 x 65 x 18 cm.

Chair used by President Harding.

This small wooden chair was purported to be used by President Warren G. Harding on July 15, 1923. This was, of course, the day Harding drove the golden spike in Nenana, signifying the completion of the Alaska Railroad. Where this chair was sat upon, is the mystery… possible locations might include the rail car that transported him and his entourage to Nenana; the Nordale Hotel, which is where the party stayed in Fairbanks; or perhaps some restaurant where they ate somewhere in between? I’d love to hear from anyone up on Harding history.

Candy also donated a lovely Aleut wall pocket sewn from sea mammal intestine, and these ivory carvings, which include a walrus tusk reputedly created by Happy Jack, a group of chess pieces, and a set of igloo salt and pepper shakers.

"Happy Jack" tusk.

Igloo salt and pepper shakers.

Ivory chess pieces.

Bob Lathrop with team leader Fluffsie, on the Kukpuk River, Alaska, March 1951.

I first interacted with Bob in 1997 while I was a graduate student working in the lab. He and his wife Petey had just made a MAJOR donation of 109 objects to the Ethnology & History department. Bob was also in the process of cleaning out a property he owned in Kotzebue, so my co-worker in the lab, Christopher Hrycko, had the extreme luck of traveling to Kotzebue to help Bob pack up some of his gear. My role was to help process that collection when it came to the museum, cataloging and organizing the objects and information.

The first thing that struck me was Bob’s attention to detail and his meticulous hand-written notes. Doctors are renowned for their horrible handwriting… apparently this does not hold true for some dentists! Bob’s writing was amazing – written with ruler-straight lines and margins, a slight angle, and a unique combination of upper and lower-case letters – full of details and heart-warming commentary. I LOVE reading Bob’s letters, lists, greeting cards, captions… anything.

An example of one of Bob's inventory lists.

In 1998 I was fortunate enough to visit Bob and Petey in their home in Anchorage, along with my then graduate advisor, Molly Lee. There we shared a cup of coffee and lots of stories, and began a friendship that continued for over a decade. In 2000, Bob and Petey donated three items – a lynx parka was added to our permanent collection and a pair of boots and a sealskin bag were handed over to the education department for their hands-on collection. They were delighted that these items would be shared directly with area school children through our educational programs.

In 2001, my curator, Molly Lee, and I had the EXTREME pleasure of finding out that Bob and Petey were interested in donating the bulk of the ethnological items that they had collected during their life in “Arctic Alaska.” This turned into a 2 day road-trip to Anchorage in the Museum truck where we worked with Bob and Petey as well as a local appraiser, Joe Crusey, to evaluate, get the stories of, and pack what ended up being 333 objects. These pieces ranged from dozens of small ivory carvings (around 87 of them in fact!) and walrus tusk cribbage boards, to beautiful and functional tools of daily life. Over the next few years, Bob made several donations, totaling another 52 items.

Bob and Petey in their Anchorage home, December 1998. Photo by Molly Lee. Copyright UAMN.

Petey passed away January 26, 2003 in Anchorage. Molly and I continued to correspond with Bob, visiting him whenever we traveled to Anchorage. In 2004, Bob made the most generous and amazing gift so far – he established a University endowment to support the Ethnology & History department, with priorities of paying student salary, of purchasing Inupiaq artifacts, of conserving collections, and for any further general support of the department.

The more time I spend working with the Lathrop collection, the more I value people like Bob and Petey Lathrop and realize how very lucky our department is to have made a connection with them. Molly Lee established that true friendship with Bob and Petey and helped me to continue the process as well. I learned from her that it’s not just about getting the “stuff” and the “money” but it’s about the relationship-building that happens and how we are changed through those relationships. By learning about the people and the lives they lived while making and wearing and using these incredible artifacts, we are better able to preserve and interpret them for present and future generations. Generations who might never see work like this anywhere else.

Some of the hand-made Inupiaq artifacts from the Lathrop collection. Photo by Barry J. McWayne. Copyright UAMN.

When we received the news of Bob’s passing from Bob’s long-time-friend Harry Harvey, it was truly a sad day. The only positive being that now Bob could re-join the love of his life, Petey. When I attended the memorial service with my colleague and former head of Development at UAMN, Emily Drygas, I was surprised to feel the bubbling up of such strong emotions that I could barely tell my story of knowing Bob and Petey.

So many students have been supported through these generous friends. Countless visitors have been enlightened about the creativity and ingenuity of the Inupiaq people because of the hundreds of objects they donated. And we will continue to tell the story of the Lathrops, because it is our job (and pleasure!) to preserve these objects and their stories in perpetuity.

Petey Lathrop steering their St. Lawrence Island umiak in front of Cape Dyer, Alaska, August 1951.

The Blockhouse as it stands on its new foundation. Photo by Angela Linn. Copyright: UAMN.

It is official… the Kolmakovsky Blockhouse has returned to the UAMN. With little fanfare and only about 5 hours in labor, the little octagonal log structure that stood along the banks of the middle Kuskokwim River for 87 years is once again reassembled and structurally sound.

For now, the building sits “topless” as our log preservation specialist, Sandy Jamieson (also known for his witty artwork) designs a weatherproofing membrane and creates a substrate for our newly installed tundra moss “sod” covering. In the next few weeks the work on the roof should continue and we’ll get the whole thing placed back on top of the building.

This two-year rehabilitation and conservation project is funded through a Save America’s Treasures grant managed by the Institute of Museum and Library Services . It includes funding to preserve the Kolmakovsky Redoubt collection at the University of Alaska Museum of the North. This involves the rehabilitation work on the 170-year-old blockhouse constructed by representatives of the Russian-American Company on the south bank of the Kuskokwim in 1841, as well as rehousing and photographing the 5,000-object archaeological collection excavated by Wendell Oswalt in the late 1960s.

Artifacts from Kolmakovsky Redoubt following rehousing. Photo by Fawn Carter. Copyright: UAMN.

The full project description and lots of photos are posted at my Museum departmental project page, so if you’re interested, take a look at what we’ve accomplished so far. More photos of the archaeological collections are forthcoming, and of course, a final paper documenting the entire project will be in the works, hopefully to be published by an Alaskan anthropology or museum journal.

I guess I’ll go with a piece I first saw in the collection around 1997, while I was working on my M.A. in Cultural Anthropology at UAF, which resulted in the exhibit and publication,  Not Just a Pretty Face: Dolls and Human Figurines in Alaska Native Cultures.

The mysterious Athabascan doll. Photo by Barry McWayne. Copyright UAMN.

This doll and the associated pieces (catalog number UA78-15-1AF) came into the museum collection in 1978, purchased from a man in Delta Junction, Alaska, who found it in an old trunk that he had purchased in a warehouse sale. It is Athabascan in origin, probably made in the early 20th century. It is so intriguing, for a number of reasons. My predecessor, Ms. Dinah Larsen, who ran the Ethnology department for over 30 years, made some initial contacts to help her decode the assorted pieces and parts of this doll.

First, Dinah wrote to the Numismatic Division at the Public Archives of Canada, to see what they could tell her about the coin that was found tucked into the black silk ribbon that is wrapped around the doll’s body. The response came from the National Currency Collection of the Bank of Canada – the coin is a Canadian 25-cent piece struck during the reign of Queen Victoria, produced by Heaton Mint, Birmingham, England, some time between 1871 and 1890.

The next person Dinah contacted was Dr. Robert A. McKennan, a well-known anthropologist who conducted fieldwork in Interior Alaska and wrote a number of monographs on the Athabascan people of Alaska. Dinah included a photo of the doll, mentioning her thoughts regarding the original purpose of the doll, which was not as a child’s plaything but rather something more in the ceremonial realm. Dr. McKennan agreed. “I agree with you that it must have been more than an ordinary doll, and as you know, when faced with an insoluble question like this, anthropologists generally take refuge in the catch-all phrase of ‘ceremonial object.’ Certainly the care with which it was made, plus the profusion of ornaments, suggests such a use as a possibility, and to carry such a thought further, such a ceremonial use could have been continued over a period of time from the early contact era to the modern, which in turn might account for the increasing modernity of the decorative objects. However, I know of no such use of ceremonial dolls.”

This kind of dead-end happens frequently when you conduct research on museum objects that have no documentation when they’re acquired. However, to solve the mysteries, we have to go on and use our intuition and break apart the components of the objects, to see what we can decipher in bits.

Again, from McKennan’s letter of 1979:

The hair: Human hair, done in a style that appears Tanana, Gwich’in or Upper Yukon Athabascan. Also “suggests a male, but this is counterbalanced by the straight rather than pointed hemline on the coat. The nose ornament of course could fit either sex.”

The moccasins/boots: Similar groups.

The brass clock-parts: Often used in the early days for personal ornamentation.

Gloves: Mittens were, of course, the original form of hand-wear and gloves only came in after white contact. The dangling bits on the ends of the gloves’ fingers point to a ceremonial rather than functional use.

——–

During my coursework for my MA, I showed this doll to a number of Athabascan elders, all of whom seemed a bit uncomfortable in its presence. Little was said of it… which could either indicate that they didn’t know anything and were unwilling to conjecture, or that they did not want to talk about it.

I continue to be intrigued by this small, complicated little object. It lives in a cabinet in our doll collection, with other Athabascan figures made for sale or use. I will keep asking questions about it, and maybe one day we’ll learn its true origins. Or maybe not… and that’s okay because it’s the discussions and the ongoing use of the piece that will keep it alive.

These mysteries that present themselves to me nearly every day that I work with this collection is one of the reasons why I am so in love with being a Museum Collections Professional.