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Home > News & Events > Newsletters >

Newsletter 2007

Vol. 8, n. 1 - February 2007

Study Abroad Program in Rome
Notes from the Chair
Faculty News
Graduate Student News
Visual Resources News
Historic Preservation
Alumni News
Student Awards
Snapshots from Rome and Paris

Report from a Historic Preservation Student
Emily L. Hodecker-Ferrara

I first became interested in architectural history when I co-curated an exhibition at Brookdale Community College. The exhibition was to memorialize the third anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the United States. The exhibition, titled "Memorials, Monuments and Memories: Monmouth County's Artistic Response to September 11, 2001," exhibited the efforts of many to build memorials and monuments to remember the Monmouth County residents who were victims of the attack. My job was to conduct research on the planned or successfully constructed monuments or installations in Monmouth County. It made me think seriously about the value that is placed on monuments and architectural spaces in American society. Later, in architectural history classes at Rutgers, I came to realize how important it is to preserve the physical manifestations of all aspects of American culture, whether they are positive or negative.

Emily L. Hodecker-Ferrara

My mother was a Union leader and my father a politically vocal and exceptionally literary person, so I wanted find a way to combine my love of architecture with my family’s dedication to social change. Enrolling in the Historic Preservation Certificate to accompany my Art History major turned out to be the best decision I have ever made as an undergraduate. The curriculum has consistently proved to be enriching and the flexibility of the elective requirements allowed me to explore the wider world of architectural history.

The historic preservation certificate requires that students undertake some kind of field work. Instead of an internship, I applied to the Field School for Architectural Restoration at Thomas Jefferson's Poplar Forest in Virginia. I was very excited when I received my acceptance letter and the packet jammed with preparatory reading and instructions.

The reading was intimidating; we read Thomas Jefferson’s own words about his buildings, we read about Palladian architecture, and we also read essays on the theory of architectural preservation written by the program's director, Travis McDonald. After I plowed through that reading I hopped into my truck and took off on the 7 hour drive to Virginia; my head was swimming with geometry, masonry materials and the Founding Fathers as I drove through our nation’s capital and into western Virginia, along back country roads in hues of gold and green.

It is easy for me to wax poetic about Virginia last summer. The trip inspired in me a kind of patriotism and connection to American history that I had never experienced before. The Field School started with an "ice-breaking" picnic on the lawn of the east portico of Poplar Forest, My fellow 10 students were a diverse group. They had traveled to Virginia from all over the country, each seeking something different. The group included undergraduates studying architectural history like me, architecture students, professional architects and landscape architects, the director of the historic preservation department in a county in Maryland, a preservation lawyer, and a paint conservationist from Jefferson's other great masterpiece, Monticello. At the opening picnic I realized that I would learn some of the most important lessons from my fellow students.

Our assignment as a group was to produce a Historic Structures Report for a house in southwestern Virginia that had recently and sadly been scheduled for demolition. We started with three days of detailed lectures and tours of Poplar Forest to introduce us to the architectural history of the site and the significance of Jeffersonian architecture. By using the example of the well documented and successful restoration project at Poplar Forest, the director created a concrete (or maybe brick and lime mortar!) foundation for our daily road trips to other sites in Virginia.

The days were long, but the engaging material outweighed the intensive schedule, oppressive climate, and abundance of gnats! We would visit a house that we knew nothing about, and divide into groups to investigate a specific level or part of the house. Following this exercise we would discuss our conclusions, which were either accepted or rejected. Travis would then reveal the actual history of the house in a detailed walkthrough. We had a particularly exciting tour of Monticello; we also visited the Wickam House, the John Marshall House and the White House of the Confederacy in Richmond. At all four of these sites, we were given an opportunity discuss the pros and cons of the house museum phenomenon. At the Gaston and Wyatt Millwork Shop, Price Masonry/Virginia Limeworks and the carpentry shop at Poplar Forest we were educated on the use of authentic materials in restoration projects. All it took for me to understand the great skill that is required to produce an authentic Jeffersonian molding was a run-in with a 100-year-old planer!
The sum of these experiences resulted in a great deal of group confidence on that day when we traveled to Charlotte County to investigate what we had come to think of "our house." It was a very early morning, and my truckload of fellow students napped throughout the first half of our 2 hour journey. As the sun rose and I drove deeper into southwestern Virginia, the tension in my truck started to grow. Our surroundings became more and more arborous. When Travis pulled his car over to tell us that this would be our last opportunity to use a restroom that did not have poison ivy in it, we all of us had a moment of "fight or flight." From that point it was another half hour, 15 minutes of which was on a dirt road. With a bumpy right turn up a slight ravine and through the overgrown bushes, we met our challenge, a modest vernacular house in terrible disrepair.

Partially disassembled, the skeleton exposed to the south and west, the Baldwin House (as we eventually named it) stared back at us, daring us to unravel the secrets of its past. Armed with bug spray, measuring tape, plastic Ziploc bags, scalpels and clipboards we split into our assigned groups and began. We observed, sketched, measured, took paint, mortar and plaster samples. We found the weights from the former triple-sash windows in the woods, and reassembled a staircase to determine the origin of the unusual ghost We determined that the front door survived – it was the Baldwin House's original door, dating to around 1840. Needless to say, we got our hands dirty and I will proudly admit that I enjoyed every minute of it.

Following a session of lab work to analyze our samples, we spent the next two days making sense of our findings. On our final day, we turned in portions of the report to Travis and sadly said our goodbyes, but only after receiving our diploma-- a print of Thomas Jefferson’s original drawing of Poplar Forest.

As I drove back home to what seemed to be the doldrums of New Jersey, I was exhilarated. I have never felt so inspired by an educational experience. When I received the complete formal Historic Structures Report on the Baldwin House in early August, I was gratified to see my words included in such an important document. The most powerful lesson that I learned at the Field School is that every contribution, no matter how small, can positively affect this world. The Baldwin House is much more than an old house hidden in the forest of Virginia. The Baldwin House represents a patch of land that was cultivated in order to provide contributions to our country. It was a place of rest for the family that built it and for the family that tried their very hardest to preserve it for all of those years. The Baldwin House is a representation of not just a pocket of time, like a house museum, but rather it represents something much bigger -- the American ideal of agriculture and community. The Baldwin House now exists only in words and photographs in our report, but at least it has been permanently documented. It was impossible for the owners of the Baldwin House to save it from demolition, but the house will not be forgotten. There are hundreds more houses in hundreds of other forests, and no matter how modest, they all have stories to tell, and they all communicate powerful American truths.

 

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Fax: 732-932-1261

Catherine Puglisi, Chairperson

Erik Thunø , Undergraduate Director

Susan Sidlauskas, Graduate Program Director

Cathy Pizzi, Department Administrator

Geralyn Colvil, Student Coordinator







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Last Updated: 02/19/2007