-9-
But perhaps I worry needlessly. Maybe, having gotten Hamilton
off their chest, the trustees will now sit back, stop kibitzing,
and let the new President of the N-YHS, Louise Mirrer, get
on with her job. Mirrer's not a U.S historian nor an authority
on New York City's past - she's a scholar of medieval Spain
- nor does she have a background in museums. But she did a
brilliant job as Academic Vice-Chancellor of the City University
of New York, dramatically enhancing that institution's contributions
to our city's life of the mind. She has, moreover, a mind
of her own, and in her public statements has put considerably
more emphasis on "big shows about the big New York"
than have the new board members.
In particular, she is committed to carrying on with a long
gestating exhibition on the History of Slavery in New York
City, a story about which too many of our citizens remain
unaware. It could be a great opportunity to demonstrate the
power of a museological depiction of the interplay between
local, national, and planetary developments. It might lay
out how the Dutch and English imperial systems webbed Gotham
into the 17th and 18th century Atlantic slave trading system.
It could pick up from where Hamilton petered out, by describing
how the post-revolutionary city inserted itself between the
slave-based cotton producing South, and the industrializing
English midlands, the two most dynamic areas of the 19th century
global economy, becoming in the process utterly imbricated
in the slavery regime. It could explore "local"
ramifications of these developments ranging from the experience
of the slaves themselves, to the establishment of Jim Crow
racial segregation, to the eventual overthrow of slavery in
the city and the emergence (against enormous odds) of a New
York-headquartered movement to abolish it in the South as
well. It could people its canvas with a far vaster array of
historical actors than's now on display, including the bondswomen
and men themselves, the free African-American community, evangelical
ministers, artisans and laborers, businessmen and journalists,
and many, many others. (Such a show, moreover, would dovetail
with Gilder-Lehrman interests and documents, though that could
prove a mixed blessing if it invited trustee micromanagement).
Down the road, there's an endless list of issues of national
historical importance - many with presentist implications
- that could be explored by examining them through a New York
prism. Take transportation. The N-YHS is proceeding with a
modest show commemorating the subway's centennial, a worthy
if not galvanic enterprise. But imagine if the centennial
had been used instead as the occasion for mounting not just
a full fledged recounting of the history of mass transit in
New York City over the course of the twentieth century, but
the city's simultaneous role in crucibling a competing car
culture. It would then be positioned to examine the comparative
consequences (cultural, environmental, sociological, geographical)
of the rival rail and road systems (locally, and of necessity
on the national level as well, given the role of Congressional
funding). Such a retrospective could end with the very practical
issues facing the city, state, and region, inviting visitors
to consider as citizens how we want to shape and fund our
future transportation arrangements in the light of our historical
experience. Given that we are once again facing an MTA crisis
- with higher fares and declining services looming - and given
that politicians and the media have so far shied away from
putting the issue on the public agenda, a grand Historical
Society presentation of this sort could have been of inestimable
value. And by engaging New Yorkers on issues in which they
are vitally concerned, rather than hectoring them about heroes,
I suspect it would have been a far greater draw than what's
currently on offer.
Another example? Take immigration. It's hard to imagine
a more timely topic, or one nearer to the marrow of Gotham's
past and present being. One way to tackle it might be to present
a show called Nueva York, that would, for the first time,
boldly examine the overarching trajectory of New York City's
relations with Latin America since colonial days, paying particular
attention, perhaps, to the interplay between the export of
New York goods and capital south, and the dialectical migration
of Latin American peoples north. It could range from the colonial
era establishment of the Caribbean connection, when our ships
dispatched food and slaves and returned with sugar to process
(that now winked-out Domino Sugar sign on the Brooklyn shoreline
being a last reminder of that relationship); through the role
of metropolitan capitalists (like John Jacob Astor) in running
guns to revolutionary anti-colonial governments; to the dramatic
growth of trade with Brazil, Argentina, Mexico, and Cuba;
the Central American interventions of William Walker and Cornelius
Vanderbilt; the role of New York based exiles like Jose Marti
in winning Cuban independence, and the subsequent penetration
of Cuba's economy, and that of many other Latin American countries,
by Wall Street financiers and New York sugar barons; the initiatives
of Nelson Rockefeller in World War II; the postwar interaction
between an expanded corporate presence in Puerto Rico and
an exploding migration from the island to East Harlem, and
the similar saga in the Dominican Republic; and the interplay
between Reagan-era military incursions and Clinton-era financial
crises, with the latest surges into the city from Central
America and Mexico. All throughout, attention to global developments
would be paired with an examination of the local experiences
of successive waves of Nueva immigrants, and their growing
impact on the city's social, cultural, religious, economic,
and political life. Such a show would also provide an opportunity
for the Society to reach out to today's Latino communities
and solicit their memories and artifacts, a strategy the Brooklyn
Historical Society has followed with great success, reaping
not only an enhanced collection, but an expanded audience.
Big enough? Mainstream enough? If not, there are plenty
of other possibilities. I've proposed shows on the history
of New York crime, poverty, infrastructure, health, shopping,
housing, deindustrialization, tourism, religion, war, and
the media (especially changing representations of the city
over time).25
And visitors to the Gotham Center site are herewith invited
to post their own suggestions of exhibitions they'd like to
see N-YHS (or other institutions) tackle.26
In the end I'm hopeful that - under the stewardship of Ms.
Mirrer and an expanding and diversified board - the Society
will opt against becoming a conservative version of the Smithsonian's
American Museum of National History, something that even with
Gilder-Lehrman's documents it is singularly ill-equipped to
be. And that it will, instead, dedicate itself to becoming
a bigger and better version of what it's been at its best
- a vital link between New York's past, present and future.
Copyright by Mike Wallace
November 18, 2004
PREVIOUS
PAGE | NOTES
