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Guest Post: Launch of the University of Sheffield Rothwell Charnel Chapel Project Website by Greer Dewdney & Jennifer Crangle

16 Apr

Greer Dewdney is a graduate intern on the Rothwell Charnel Chapel Project, which is run by the University of Sheffield’s Department of Archaeology in conjunction with Holy Trinity Church.  A graduate of the department, Greer’s role is to help facilitate the project through its various stages.  Dr Jennifer Crangle, a University of Sheffield graduate and a Workers’ Educational Association tutor, is the project initiator whose doctoral research it is based upon.  Her research focuses on funerary archaeology and human osteology, with specific reference to medieval period England and Europe and a focus on the funerary treatment and the curation of the dead, both physically and ideologically.  Joe Priestly is an undergraduate student in history and archaeology at the department and also a freelance documentarian.  He acts as the project’s media designer and built the project website.

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The Rothwell Charnel Chapel Project is a joint venture between the University of Sheffield’s Department of Archaeology and Holy Trinity Church at Rothwell, in Northamptonshire, which aims to further understanding of the Medieval ossuary beneath the church.  The ‘bone crypt’ as it is known to local Rowellians, is one of only two sites in England with a Medieval charnel chapel where the structure remains intact and with human remains in situ (the other is at St. Leonard’s Church in Hythe, Kent).  The Project was begun as a result of Dr. Jennifer Crangle’s PhD research, and since then has been continuously expanding to address the many and varied areas of interest that have arisen in the investigation of this almost unique archaeological site.

One of the main areas of focus for the project currently is the creation of a ‘digital ossuary’.  This is being produced through collaboration with the Computer Sciences department and the Advanced Manufacturing Research Centre (AMRC) at the University of Sheffield.  By taking a 3D laser scanner into the crypt and strategically positioning it around the ossuary to take multiple scans, a point cloud has been generated which accurately records the ossuary in three dimensions.  This point cloud is what can then be processed and refined into a full 3D digital model, which can be viewed and explored by people through a computer, so that the fascinating and engaging experience of visiting the bone crypt is no longer restricted to people who can get to Rothwell and have good enough mobility to tackle the stairs.  This research was presented at this year’s CAA (Computer Applications & Quantitative Methods in Archaeology) conference in Oslo, Norway, by Jennifer Crangle and Peter Heywood.

rothwell site

The new website introduces the background to the site and the aims of the project. All images courtesy of Joe Priestly.

Another of the current focuses is an attempt to secure some dates for the bones in the crypt, as obviously the question of when they date to is foremost in the minds of many of the researchers and local residents.  Recently, some surface samples were taken for CHRONO, the C14 radiocarbon dating service at Queen’s University Belfast, to test the nitrogen content of the material.  These have determined that the bones are well-preserved enough for radiocarbon dating to be feasible.  With kind permission of the Church Council, five full samples will be taken to be tested (again at Queen’s University), so hopefully there will soon be some more concrete ideas of when some of the remains are  from.

Although this won’t tell us when the bones were deposited in the charnel chapel, it will answer one of the most frequently asked and longstanding questions in the site’s history.  The dates could give us some further insights, however, into the use of the charnel chapel and how it was perceived by Rowellians; for example, if one or more of our samples date to the 1700s or later, then they had to have been brought in after the site’s rediscovery circa 1700.  This illustrates the continued belief, that the charnel room was a suitable place for depositing bones, even if it wasn’t being used as a charnel chapel in this time period.  As a part of this any and all results from the radiocarbon dating are going to reveal so much more about the charnel chapel than we currently know.

Recently the project was awarded funding from the University of Sheffield Engaged Curriculum, and this has enabled the hiring of 3rd year Archaeology & History undergraduate student Joe Priestley.  Joe designed and built the project website, as well as providing invaluable services in photography and documenting events.  This strand of the work has created a great relationship between the people of Rothwell and given them, and others from across the world, the ability to interact with, and further, the research happening at this fascinating and unique site.

Further Information

  • Find out more on the Rothwell Charnel Chapel project website, where the history of the site is discussed alongside the current research aims.  You can also take a video tour of the church and chapel itself with the researchers and members of the church involved with the project.  Keep an eye out on the site for open day tours of the site with the University of Sheffield researchers and the church representatives.  Typically these are held yearly but expect the project to pick up pace and introduce further open days as appropriate. 
  • Check out the Facebook group where we regularly post updates about our research and get involved with the project.  We also welcome feedback, so please do get in touch with questions or ideas.
  • Check out a previous These Bones of Mine photography essay on Rothwell from the 2014 open day.  The post delves into the background of the site and highlights what research has taken place over the years at Rothwell and the context for the current University of Sheffield research project.

Selection of Previous & Current Research on Rothwell

Crangle, J. N. 2013. The Rothwell Charnel Chapel and Ossuary Project. Past Horizons. Published 03/08/2013.  Accessed 14/04/2016. (Open Access).

Crangle, J. N. 2016. A Study of Post-Depositional Funerary Practices In Medieval England. University of Sheffield. Unpublished PhD/Doctoral Thesis.

Garland, A. N., Janaway, R. C. & Roberts, C. A. 1988. A Study of the Decay Processes of Human Skeletal Remains from the Parish Church of the Holy Trinity, Rothwell, NorthamptonshireOxford Journal of Archaeology7 (2): 235-249.

Gonissen, J. 2013.  New Tools in Anthropology: An Evaluation of Low-Cost Digital Imagery Methods in 3D Photogrammatry and Reflectance Transformation Imaging Applied to Fragile Osteological Material with Limited Access: the Case of Rothwell ossuary (Northamptonshire, UK). University of Sheffield. Unpublished MSc Thesis. (Open Access).

Parsons, F. G. 1910. Report on the Rothwell Crania. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland. 40: 483-504.

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Doug’s Blogging Carnival: The Grand Challenges for Your Archaeology

1 Feb

Doug Rocks-Macqueen (of Doug’s Archaeology) is running another awesome blogging carnival following the success of his 2013-2014 Blogging Archaeology carnival.  Check out the Open Access volume that the original Blogging Archaeology carnival spawned, with the dedicated work of Doug and Chris Webster as the editors.  You can also read my review of it here, which was recently published in the AP Journal of Public Archaeology.  Both are available for free for your perusal.

This time around the theme is kept to one question: What are the grand challenges facing your archaeology? Anyone can take part, so please feel free to join in and write an entry (or draw, film and dance an entry in) about what your grand challenges are that you are facing in archaeology.  It is a one-off event for January, and Doug will post the replies to his call out by February 1st 2016 (but I’m hoping there will be further editions of the blogging carnival as it is so good to see the archaeology bloggers communicate with each other).  So without further ado, let me crack on with my entry for the carnival…

grand challenges facing arch david mennear photography 2016 jan

Probably one of my favorite memorial statues which can be found in a cemetery near to where I currently live. Check out Howard Williams Archaeodeath blog entry on the defense of photography in graveyards and cemeteries to learn more about the value of the recorded image. Image credit: A detail of one of my own photographs taken using a Pentax S1a camera on black and white Ilford film, if reproduced please credit as appropriate.

Grand Challenges Facing My Archaeology

Last night I drove up the coast to a nearby city to watch a Pearl Jam cover band with a few friends.  At the gig itself I was deeply moved by the band’s vitality, by the intense connection between a band the audience loved and a band the tribute act so clearly adored as well, but it was in the act itself, of how the cover band so carefully and energetically replicated Pearl Jam, that so impressed me (it isn’t easy capturing Vedder’s powerful voice, but kudos to the singer!).  The energy of a live act is hard to catch on tape, certainly a few live albums have managed to bottle this magic, but not the physical intimacy, the energy that re-bounds between the audience and the act when they give a great performance.

Having had the pleasure of seeing the real Pearl Jam play in a much larger venue in Manchester half a decade ago or so, watching this tribute act in a much smaller venue felt more raw, almost more real.  It was, or so I imagine, what it must have been like seeing Pearl Jam play live before they released Ten, the crowd of a few hundred bodies moving in time to invisible beat and roaring their appreciation between songs.  There is something about live music, when it is plucked from the air in front of you, that moves me so intensely.  It is also something that I have pursued much more actively in viewing since the loss of a beloved friend last year.

As I write this the song State of Love and Trust blares out of my CD player (I know, quaint in this streaming age) and I can feel my feet tapping and my fingers itching to blast something out on the guitar.  Scenes of last night are popping into my head – the rhythm guitarist bouncing around on stage, the singer clasping his hands around the microphone, the adoration of the crowd after Black is played and the personal joy of hearing The Fixer live.

It is this idea of distance, in a temporal-geographic sense, that I suppose is one of my grand challenges facing my own archaeology.  Writing in front of a screen offers precious little human connectivity as the tips of my fingers press into the plastic keys and dance across the keyboard.  I have thought more than once of stopping this blog, to focus perhaps on something more creative instead.  Although the blog post rate has slowed down remarkably after the first initial year, the content of the posts now dip into a more varied and eclectic range of topics and voices.  (Honestly readers, the Skeletal Series will eventually be complete one day!).  I feel that these posts help form the core of the identity of the blog, whilst the standard upcoming short courses or conference posts keep readers (and me) linked into the discipline itself.

One of the challenges, for me then, is knowing when to disconnect and when to reconnect.  There will always be an audience of some kind out there, but there is a need (at least for me) to take time off and to rejuvenate and to think about why I blog in the first place.  I want to help capture that feeling of vitality, of spotting the links between the everyday and the bioarchaeological (something that many bioarchaeology and mortuary archaeology blogs do exceptionally well).  I first started blogging to consolidate my own information and to capture how I was slowly learning the nuts and bolts of human osteology as it applied to the archaeological record.  I also wanted to offer a framework of what it is that human osteologists and bioarchaeologists do and why.  As stated above, this has changed somewhat as I came to understand that I wouldn’t necessary ever have a career in this field and that it would (likely) remain a passion of mine.  (This could be another blog post entirely, but it is down to a few different reasons that are not insurmountable in-and-of themselves).

Holding Your Head Up High

The blog is however but one facet of my identity, but it is one I have fleshed out over the past few years.  To change direction suddenly or to not blog for a while can feel like I am, in some sense, betraying those who would most like me to write.  As such I feel a duty to sometimes produce content, without which I sometimes don’t have either the heart or the time (which is also why there are currently 12 posts lingering in draft hell…).  It is wise to clarify here that those are pressures solely forced on myself – I know I take a long time to produce a post, but bear with me.

This site has afforded me a multitude of adventures and opportunities I never would have had if I’d not taken the dive and started writing for the fun of it.  I’ve been asked to contribute a book chapter to a new and exciting volume, I’ve been asked to speak in a country on a different continent, and I’ve been asked to contribute reviews to new and upcoming journals.  However, as much as I’d love bioarchaeology to be my breadwinner it is not.  I work in a completely different sector to my passion (and it is my passion that has burned the coals for the ability to continue down this path).  The day job gives me that monetary security to pursue the writing of reviews or chapters, to take part in open days, to watch and learn at conferences, and to conduct my own osteological analyses and research.  There is, I hope, a positive takeaway point from this – you too can join in as I have.

There is one constant at These Bones of Mine and that is the trying to champion the voice of others on the site, either by guest posts, interviews or point-of-view style entries.  I see this site as one continuous conversation between my writings (and the various winding alleys that these thoughts slowly percolate into) and the readers who take the time and the effort to read the words.  But I also see it as an opportunity to give a platform to other researchers and part-time bioarchaeologists.  This shall hopefully continue and please do not hesitate to contact me, or to look over previous guest posts (and the guest post guidelines) for further information.

On a personal note I have noticed that, when I am able to fit the time in, I am much happier to be actually carrying out human osteological analysis, to collect the data and to produce the report, that I personally feel I am doing something constructive and worthwhile.  Perhaps it was a feeling I experienced recently precisely because I did not have the time to assign to it and when I did, it felt special and unique.

Moving Forward By Going Backwards

Before the Pearl Jam tribute act I had the pleasure of attending the Little Lives day-long conference at Durham University, catching up with friends and learning about the great new research in the study of human non-adults in bioarchaeology.  A great deal of thanks must really go to the organizing committee of the conference, PhD researchers Clare Hodson, Sophie Newman and Lauren Walther, for putting together a varied, vital and exciting program of speakers.  One of the most mentioned topics of research within the study of non-adults were the implications in bioarchaeology for the DOHaD concept (Developmental Origin of Health and Disease, as an outgrowth of Barker’s Hypothesis, based on work conducted 25 years ago which investigated fetal origins for adult diseases, particularly cardiac and metabolic disorders).  It gave me food for thought as I’m currently analysing a collection of Iron Age and Romano-British individuals which runs almost the full gamut of age-at-death, from likely neonates to old adults.

In a way the analysis has a lovely circular notion to it, as the individuals I’m analyzing are from one of the first archaeological sites that I had the pleasure of excavating at.  Perhaps my challenge isn’t so much geographic as temporal – I have stayed close to where I have lived a large portion of my life, but my mind flits with eager ease through the changes that this place has seen.  Sometimes that is enough.

blog

Seeing from the other side, live grows anew. Image credit: Photograph by the author using a Pentax S1a camera and Ilford black and white film. If reproduced please credit as appropriate.

Learn More

  • Check out Doug’s Archaeology, an awesome site that cuts through the sections of archaeology entry by entry.  Read the rather lovely 2014 Blogging Archaeology edited volume, for free, here.  Follow the links on Doug’s site to join in this blogging archaeology challenge.  Remember no entry is too short or too long, nor any entry too discursive in its topic or content.

Views on Archaeology and Social Media Sought

10 Jul

Fleur Schinning, a graduate student in Heritage Management at Leiden University, is conducting research on how social media and blogs contribute to the accessibility of archaeology in the Netherlands and seeks readers of blogs to help fill in a quick questionnaire.  The research is focused on investigating how often, and why, readers access the social media range (with a strong focus on blogs) access and read about archaeological projects and news in order to ascertain their use as methods for education outreach and improving the accessibility of archaeology.

The readers questionnaire focuses on the motives and takes only a few minutes to fill in and can be accessed here.  It is well worth it as participants are automatically offered the chance to win 6 copies of the Archaeology magazine for free.  The questionnaire close at the end of July 2015 in order for Fleur to analyse the data and allow her to conclude her research.

As long time readers of this blog may know that I’m a keen advocate of blogging as a method of educational outreach, and as an interactive use of reaching a wide and diverse audience.  Blogging archaeology has never been more popular, both as a topic of academic research and as an actual activity.

A few quick highlights of this for me include Doug’s Archaeology blogging carnival from 2013-2014 (and the subsequent published Blogging Archaeology edited volume), where over 70 archaeology bloggers gathered every month over a 5 month period to discuss the questions that Doug posed.  This brought together a lively bunch of people and posts from all over the world, allowing for a range of fully fleshed out thoughts on a wide variety of blogging archaeology topics (you can see all of my replies here!).  Further to this is the ever expanding and growing Day of Archaeology project, held each July (I’m slowly cooking up an entry for this year), which brings together archaeological bloggers and social media users to show the diversity of a day in an archaeologists life.  This is a lovely event which really indicates just how wide a subject archaeology is and can be, with entries piling in each year from every aspect of the discipline you can think of.  Be sure to check out their website on the 24th July this year, or better yet join in.

On a quick bioarchaeology point I’m always impressed by Kristina Killgrove’s work over at Powered by Osteons and now as a bioarchaeology writer at the Forbes website (check out this interactive map of her coverage at the company).  Her work on the blogging site is really linking the academic research with public communication and engagement by making her teaching and research methods open to public access and engagement (and making it fun!).  One of the latest posts promotes the publication of her human osteology laboratory workbook for interested members of the public and specialists alike.  It is the product of the classes in human osteology that she has taught, and continues to teach, in her role as an associate professor.

Blogging archaeology and bioarchaeology has, for me, opened up so many new doors and has introduced to me wonderful people and fantastic opportunities that I could only of dreamed of before I started blogging back in 2011.  If you value reading about archaeology across social media and blogging sites, such as this one, that help a researcher and indicate how you interact with archaeology online.

Replies to Fleur Shinnings questionnaires are greatly received and, on behalf of this blog, I wish her the best of luck in her research!

Guest Post: Review of the Bethlem Museum of the Mind in Beckenham, Kent, by Jessica Sajovie

4 Jun

Jessica Sajovie is originally from Cleveland, Ohio, but is currently a London-based writer responsible for Diverting Journeys, a blog dedicated to irreverent reviews of museums and other curious destinations around the world, particularly (due to a limited travel budget) those in London and Southeast England.  In addition, she volunteers with a local history project, researching the First World War and its impact on Merton.  Jessica holds an MA in Early Modern History from King’s College London, with a focus on 18th century Britain and the history of medicine.  Her other interests include collecting vintage cookbooks and Pez dispensers shaped like American Presidents, a never-ending quest to find blueberry cake doughnuts in London, and reading books on ill-fated maritime expeditions and lurid titles picked from the historical “True Crime” section at the library.  She also enjoys classic rock.


Though I’m keen on almost all museums (the possible exceptions being particularly dreary local affairs, or anything sport-related), medical museums are a particular favourite of mine.  Over the past few years, I’ve blogged about a number of them around Britain (the Gordon Museum of Pathology, the Royal London Hospital Museum, Dr. Jenner’s House , the Royal Berkshire Medical Museum, and many others, if you feel like digging around my blog), and elsewhere in the world (even in places as far-flung as Thailand) but being a homebody at heart, I was excited to discover that a new medical museum had opened right on the outskirts of London – the former Bethlem Hospital Museum, which was recently revamped and re-opened as the Museum of the Mind.

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The entrance of the Bethlem Hospital museum in London.

Bethlem Royal Hospital has been around in one form or another since AD 1247, making it the oldest mental hospital in Britain (although it started strictly as an almshouse, and only began to be used for mentally ill patients in the early 14th century).  It was initially located in Bishopsgate, just beyond the old City of London, but was moved to Moorfields in the late 17th century, which is around the time it began to acquire its tumultuous “bedlam” reputation (the name of the hospital had been shortened to “Bedlam” for centuries, but it was only in the 1600s that the word began to be used as a synonym for chaos), as the hospital encouraged paying visitors, and gawking at the “lunatics” became a popular day out for the wealthy.  In 1815, the hospital moved again, this time to Southwark (what is now the Imperial War Museum), and due to a damning report about conditions in the hospital, Bethlem gradually developed more humane treatments for its patients, and put an end to the sight-seeing. Finally, in 1930, Bethlem moved out to its current location, in Kent, where the museum is located today.

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A detail of one of the entrance statues by Caius Gabriel Cibber in the museum highlighting the representation of mental illness via the shackles.  This is a continuing theme at Bethlem Hospital as shackles and chains were often previously used to subdue patients.

Firstly, some practicalities.  The Museum of the Mind is not too far from Croydon, so most Londoners should be able to make their way out there using a combination of trains and buses (or the tram from Wimbledon…if you don’t hate it as much as I do; ugh, it’s so slow, and the unfortunately named “Therapia Lane” creeps me out).  I chose to travel by car, which in retrospect may have been a mistake as it took about an hour to get there from Southwest London, but at least there was ample parking in the visitor lot at the hospital, which is a short walk away from the museum (and I had the freedom to sing along (poorly) to all my favourite classic rock songs in the car, which I wouldn’t have been able to do in the tram without getting weird looks).  The museum is normally open Wednesday-Friday, and the first and last Saturday of the month, and admission is free.

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A patient’s creative representation of mental illness.

My first impression was that it was like a small-scale Dr. Guislain Museum (a fabulous museum in Belgium that is located in a working mental hospital and provides a comprehensive history of psychiatric medicine, in addition to art galleries featuring works by people suffering from various mental illnesses), as it incorporated both museum space and art galleries with works by some of its service users.  I started with the gallery space on the ground floor, which was compromised of two rooms: a display area and a workshop whose walls were also lined with pictures.  A two or three paragraph description was provided for each piece; I particularly liked an artist with a penchant for photographing crows.  The workshop seems to be frequently used for various classes, as there was one starting up when I was in there viewing the art (and purchasing a Dan Duggan print), and since I was asked if I wanted to join the class (which I awkwardly declined, as I didn’t have time and totally lack artistic talent anyway), I assume at least some of them are offered free of charge.

The stairwell leading up to the first floor is flanked by the famous statues Raving Madness and Melancholy Madness (by Caius Gabriel Cibber, father of the much-maligned Poet Laureate Colley Cibber, though I have to say Alexander Pope’s constant mockery of the younger Colley livened up the 18th Century Literature classes I took in my undergrad days) which stood atop the gates of the late 17th century hospital, and truly demonstrate Restoration-era conceptions of madness, as the faces of the figures are so contorted that they scarcely look human.

Statues flanking the entrance stairs.

Raving Madness and Melancholy Madness by the artist Caius Gabriel Cibber at the 1st floor stairs in the museum.

There’s also an old donation box where visitors back in the sight-seeing era of Bethlem’s history were encouraged to leave money (although the treatments at the hospital have radically changed, the box is still in use for its original purpose, and they gladly welcome any donations).

The first floor is divided into a museum and another art gallery, which hosts temporary exhibitions.  The one I saw, which ran through May, featured the paintings of Bryan Charnley, who had schizophrenia, and “use[d] visual metaphor and symbolism to vividly illustrate the physical experience [of schizophrenia]” (taken from Bethlem’s website).  Many of his paintings featured his girlfriend, who struggled with depression herself and attempted suicide multiple times, eventually resulting in her paralysis, and thus the overwhelming impression I had of his art was one of poignancy.

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A Bethlem Museum of the Mind poster set in the historic hospital grounds.

The actual museum is fairly small, and is split up into several sections.  Unlike the Dr. Guislain Museum, this was far from a comprehensive history – being more a brief overview of changing attitudes towards mental illness over the years, and the ever-evolving treatments at Bethlem, as well as providing some perspectives from some of its service users.  The museum does make an effort to draw in the visitor by including lots of eye-catching displays (like a wall full of apothecary bottles) and a few interactives (some videos, and a computer where you could learn more about various diagnoses), but it wasn’t as interactive as one might expect from a brand-new museum, and the displays weren’t quite enough to distract me from the lack of content.

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A detail of the various concoctions and medicines used in the course of treatment for the individuals who stayed at Bethlem Hospital.

That said, I found the small collection of restraint devices used in the past fascinating, albeit disturbing, and I was also captivated by the before-and-after photographs of Victorian patients at Bethlem (the historical signifier of insanity apparently being unkempt hair, if these pictures were anything to go by).  I believe the hospital had something like a 47% recovery rate in the Victorian era, though with the lack of effective medication, you have to wonder how many of those “recovered” people should have even been placed in Bethlem in the first place (given the Victorian zeal for labelling anyone who didn’t quite adopt society’s mores as “insane,” I would imagine it was a fair few).

This section also contained even more art from former patients, and although many pieces were quite gloomy in nature (perhaps understandably reflecting the mental states of the artists), I was charmed by the many cat paintings of Louis Wain, who was briefly a patient at the hospital (his diagnosis is widely disputed, and is listed as anything from schizophrenia to Asperger’s…all that is really known is that he suffered from mood swings and was occasionally violent, although you really wouldn’t know it from his cheerful pictures).  Fortunately, postcards of his pieces are available at the gift shop (because everybody loves cats these days, right?), so you can take a little piece of Wain’s art home with you.

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A small selection of Louis Wain’s cat pictures.

Although I could tell that a lot of effort had been put into making the museum visually appealing, I do think it just needed to have more content.  The historical objects were my absolute favourite part, and I think the museum could be vastly improved by including more history, and more artefacts, because even though many historical psychiatric treatments are hard to stomach nowadays, they are a vital part of our past, and I think it’s really important that people learn about them just to see the strides medicine has made within the last century or two.

Although they offer classes and lectures, and the art displays do change from time to time, for me, one visit here was enough, as it just wasn’t extensive enough for my tastes, and didn’t really add anything to my understanding of psychiatric medicine (even the history of Bethlem itself was lacking, with more detail provided in a timeline at the top of the stairs than in the museum itself).  I really think the focus here was on the art, so if that interests you, you may enjoy the Museum of the Mind (and some of the artists were very talented, so their art was well worth seeing), but if, like me, you’re looking for something that skillfully combines history with some art, then I’d urge you to go to Ghent (if you can) to see the Dr. Guislain Museum, as it goes into so much more detail.

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A selection of the vials and bottles that the hospital used to store and use in the medicine collection.

In conclusion my score for the Museum of the Mind is 2.5/5 (and if anyone knows of a better mental health museum in Britain, please do let me know in the comments!).

Please Note

All photographs in this guest entry are by Jessica Sajovie, if used elsewhere please contact Jessica on her personal blog for permission.

Further Information

  • The Bethlem Museum of the Mind details the story behind the museum and the role that the hospital played in its own history.  The site also highlights upcoming exhibitions and the collections that it holds (including the wonderful artwork produced by some of the patients and its archive).  The museum blog, with regular updates on both the exhibitions at the museum and issues that affect the museum, can be read here.

Dactyl & Skelly Pad: Apps for Digital Bone Identification and Inventorying

10 Mar

Updates have been somewhat sparse on this site as of late due to varying workloads, both archaeological and osteological in nature, that have thus far maintained the focus of my free time.  So this is just a quick post highlighting new digital applications that have recently been released that have a specific focus and use for bioarchaeologists, palaeopathologists and forensic anthropologists, and that may be of interest amongst other related disciplines.

The first of these is the Dactyl application that has been produced by forensic anthropologists at the University of Teesside, spearheaded by Professor Tim Thompson (with a bit of help from my friend and doctoral researcher David Errickson) through the Anthronomics business.  Dactyl is a 3D viewer with photo-realistic models of actual scanned human skeletal elements that aids in the identification, siding and pathological analysis of osteological material from archaeological sites or forensic contexts.  Further to this the app also provides information on the anatomical landmarks present on individuals bones, indicating both the origins and the growth of the bone under study.  The models themselves can be zoomed in and out off, markers can be placed on the bone, and the models are full view-able from a number of directions and viewpoints (including lighting aspect).  This makes the app particularly handy for the field bioarchaeologist, or osteologist, in the identifying of skeletal material on-site or in the site hut.

dactyl

A screen shot of the Dactyl application as it currently stands. In this view a right Os Coxa (i.e. the hip, consisting of the fused ilium, pubis and ischium skeletal elements) can be viewed and explored. Notice the blue and red pins identifying landmark features and their uses. Image credit: Apple iTunes store and Dactyl App (2015).

The basic app costs £16.99 from the Apple iTunes store, and there are currently three additional add-on packs available.  These are available for a further £1.99 and consist of a) basic trauma, b) basic pathologies, and the c) non-adult pack.  It should be noted here that each of these only include two skeletal models, with the basic trauma containing four individual bone models, rather than a full range of skeletal elements.  Further updates will include more examples, but I am currently unsure whether the app will be available on more than just the Apple range of devices.  Atkin (2015) has written a fairly comprehensive review which is a useful and interesting read on the benefits and limitations of the Dactyl app itself.  The app is currently under review of a second version of the program as an improvement on the first version, but this promises to be an extremely useful application for iPad wielding archaeologists regardless of further improvements on the current model (which, of course, will surely happen).

The second is the Skelly Pad application for tablets, initially a free to use app designed to aid in the digital inventory of human skeletal and dental elements in archaeological or forensic contexts (a professional version of the app may lead to a charge to download it).  The importance of maintaining a proper inventory of skeletal remains cannot be over estimated, as this is the basic task that first allows for identification and analysis of the remains under observation.  Although it is at the early stage of design and production, the Skelly Pad application is now available to download and use on tablets.  It works across a wide variety of different operating systems and devices, including iPads, Kindle Fire and Samsung Galaxy tablets.

The product is the outcome of Gill Hunt’s BSc project at the University of Reading, in an attempt to digitise and streamline the recording of skeletal remains rather than rely on a paper record.  Currently Skelly Pad is only able to inventory the remains of adult individuals in the latest version of the application, although this includes all of the normal inventory sections (including completeness, age-at-death, biological sex, stature, pathology, etc).  The full range of current features that the Skelly Pad incorporates can be found here, and it certainly looks useful for the bioarchaeologist or forensic archaeologist, particularly in a setting where paper recording may be unsatisfactory for rapid recording of a skeletal inventory.  The Skelly Pad is now available through the App store, Google Play and Amazon.

By highlighting the two above applications, I think it becomes clear that as technology advances and powerful computers are now available in the palm of your hand, that innovation in the archaeological world also continues to make use of it, helping to overcome the limitations of access to skeletal collections, dreary weather and taking the weight off your shoulders (literally, if you have ever tried to carry around an anatomical textbook or a collection of osteological reference manuals).  Together with online resources such as Digitised Diseases (where 3D models of the effects of disease and trauma on human skeletal material are available to view for free), we are really seeing barriers being broken down to the access of both knowledge and collections.

An interesting side feature of this is the ethical edge of digitising and replicating the skeletal remains of individuals.  As we model their remains, replicate them on hundreds, if not thousands of machines, or create isolated 3D models of isolated elements, do we dis-embody and de-individualise the person themselves that they (the skeletal elements) once belonged to?  Does the educational need to correctly identify, record, and ultimately protect uncovered remains trump the loss of physical context of the bones that are used for digitisation as we transport them into the digital realm?  Are we distancing the feel and handling of bone itself, by relegating it to a flat screen?  These are broad-based questions with no straight forward answers.

It is clear, I hope, that I heartily approve of the magnificent steps forward that digital technology is allowing researchers to make in the understanding and recording of human remains using innovative techniques, particularly so given the fragile nature of the material (see Errickson et al. 2015 for good practice guidelines regarding scanning of osteological material).  The above are only two such examples of what I am sure is a thriving, independent and growing market.  A balance is always needed between access to physical reference collections, 3D models and osteological manuals, when assessing and analyzing assemblages from archaeological or forensic contexts.  One method cannot replace another.

As satisfying as having a handbook of osteology on your phone or tablet may be, nothing beats the heavy thud of a good reference textbook going into a rucksack or the boot of a car, ready for a days work.

Further Information

  • The Dactyl application for Apple products can be found either on the Apple app website or on Google Play.  The company behind the product, Anthronomics, can be found here.  It is an interesting company started by Professor Thompson himself which aims to invent useful programs, applications or devices to help aid in the recording, identifying and analysing of human skeletal material.  One to watch!
  • The Skelly Pad application for tablets (for use with Android, Amazon and Apple devices) can be found here and is available at each of the device makers stores to download for free.  The Skelly Pad blog can be found here also, which details the current version, and will host regular blog updates as the app as it proceeds to include further sections.
  • Digitised Diseases, a project spearheaded by the University of Bradford with a range of partners, depicts a number of 3D models of scanned human skeletal elements from archaeological sites with evidence of trauma or disease processes.  The models have been recorded and scanned using radiography, CT scanning and laser scanning techniques to produce highly accurate models showing the effects of disease or trauma on human skeletal elements.  These models can be viewed on the website itself or can be downloaded onto a computer, tablet or smart phone for future offline use.  I have previously discussed the open access site here.  You can also have a look to see how useful the site is for bloggers, as I helped illuminate one of my previous arm fractures with an example from the site, see here.

Bibliography

Atkin, A. 2015. Review of Dactyl: An Interactive 3D Osteology App [iPad]Internet Archaeology. 38. DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.11141/ia.38.5. (Open Access).

Errickson, D. Thompson, T. & Rankin, B. 2015. An Optimum Guide for the Reduction of Noise using a Surface Scanner for Digitising Human Osteological Remains. Archaeology Data Service. Guides to Good Practice. (Open Access).

Blogging Archaeology: Round-up and the Book

14 Aug

Okay, so this is perhaps a tad late as were most of my entries for Doug’s fantastic Blogging Archaeology series.  Just a quick re-cap for anyone that missed it: over a period of 5 months, from November 2013 to March 2014, Doug openly asked members of the archaeology blogging world to take part in an online blogging conference where each month he would set a question and hope that arch bloggers would answer the world over.

Doug (who blogs at Doug’s Archaeology where he profiles the archaeology profession) was influenced and moved to start the blogging carnival back in November 2013 because the Society for American Archaeologists were, in April 2014 in Austin, Texas, having their annual conference which included a session on blogging archaeology (view the full preliminary program here).  As he himself could not make the conference (and neither could many other archaeology bloggers), Doug decided to open the floor and host a monthly blogging carnival on his site where he posted a specific question each month for bloggers to answer on their own respective sites.  Doug helped build up a fantastic collection of results and links each month detailing the wide variety of thoughts, experiences and wishes of the archaeology blogging world.

Although the carnival has been over for some months now I have been meaning to collect together my own series of entries for the carnival.  This is mostly for my own benefit as I am very interested to see how I feel about each question Doug posited in a year’s time or so, compared to what I felt at the time that I wrote the entry.  It is in essence, I’m afraid, some blog navel gazing!  But it is also a way in which to track the changes that I have made to the blog, both in content and approach, and also helps me remember what numbers of views and hits the blog achieved at a certain point.

A Personal Curation

So below are the links to the five blog entries that made up my own personal entry to the carnival:

BA November: Why I Blog

This was a two-part question consisting of ‘why did you start blogging’ and ‘why do you continue to blog (or not, as some have stopped)’.  This post details the origins of this blog, of wanting to start it to improve my own knowledge and skills, and wanting to discuss and open up communication about my own bone disease.  The second part of the post dealt with how the blog has expanded (with interviews, guest posts, skeletal series) and why this expansion has taken place.

BA December: The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly

This, a three-part post, details the good, bad and ugly aspects of blogging archaeology in all of its glory.  The good side is the ability to open myself up, talk about my passion and also discuss my own bone disease.  Through this I have met many wonderful people.  The bad is the lack of access to the journals whereas the bad isn’t so much bad as highlighting other blogs that do a fantastic job of highlighting the darker aspects of archaeology.  This is in both the commercial and academic sense, and the personal sense (i.e. unpaid internships, poor job conditions, lack of recognition in sector and government, poor pay etc that can pervade through the industry).

BA January: Best and Worst Posts

The January edition of the blogging carnival was interesting for people’s interpretations of what good best and worst could mean.  In my entry I discussed the blog statistics, including overall page views, comments, and number of followers.  I discussed the relevant merit of each basic statistical detail, but highlighted some shortcomings of each and of the WordPress format in general (although I do only use the basic free edition of the site).  I also mentioned a basic trend that appeared in the statistics over the months and weeks, which correlated with what other bloggers of archaeology reported, that namely views tend to fall in the summer (our target audience is too busy excavating probably!) and perk in the winter season.  As a part of the entry I also looked at the most popular and least popular posts, although there were no surprises there as the skeletal series are the most viewed posts.  This is largely due to their collective attractiveness to a broad range of disciplines such as medicine, anatomy and forensics, and not just the archaeology sector.

BA February:  What Does it all Mean to Me?

The February edition of the carnival was actually an open-ended question poised by Doug.  Unfortunately it led to the lowest turn out, however I ventured a topic and asked what this blog means to me.  In it I discussed the digital aspect of the blog, how information can change, transform and be curated.  I also highlighted the fact that I see the blog as a part of my personal academic world, a place where I try to understand what is happening in my field (bad archaeology joke there!) and why.  I also briefly discussed the social aspect of blogging through understanding the impact of blogging human osteology and bioarchaeology as discussed in a recent academic journal article, and how this view was rebutted and challenged by those very blogs it discussed.

BA  March: Future Goals of Blogging

In the final entry of the blogging carnival Doug asked the bloggers what their future hopes were, how they thought their blogging may change or change them.  In my response I further detailed my view on blogs as a space between the commercial, academic and voluntary worlds of archaeology, where they (the blogs) often rest on the shoulder of just one person and are often a reflection of that aspect; that they are an expression of interest in the chosen topic and a personal journal at the same time.  I also discussed the idea that blogging validates our interest in our chosen subject, and that this is reflected by the recognition and reference of our sites as markers of interest or worth in the academic world (via article references) and/or by the public interest expressed.  Further to this I highlighted the nature of the blog itself, both the presentation and the form, and how these can be changed and manipulated as the blogger sees fit.  Ultimately, as Spencer noted in the comments, archaeology blogging bridges a gap, that we can provide, and that it is inclusive.

The Book

The utterly fantastic outcome of the blogging carnival was the publication of the Blogging Archaeology (2014) book, edited by Doug Rocks-Macqueen and Chris Webster, in which beforehand the editors openly called for articles from the blogging community online.  There are not many opportunities in the archaeological world where you can mix a full panoply of personal and professional perspectives as much as this publication has produced, from the worlds of commercial archaeology, academia, and the voluntary sector.  It is an amazing 293 page volume which manages to fit in the breadth and beauty of blogging archaeology online discussing, as it does, a variety of topics in archaeology, heritage and digital media.  This includes topics such as (but is certainly not limited to): understanding mortuary archaeology and blogging, understanding the commercial sector and social media use, teaching public engagement in anthropology, understanding the perceptions of archaeology and the language used when discussing the subject, to a range of personal reflections on blogging archaeology.  The publication is available for free to read and download here.

blogging arch book cover

The front cover of the Blogging Archaeology (2014) publication. The volume includes a number of articles from prominent arch bloggers, including Katy Meyers (Bones Don’t Lie), Kristina Killgrove (Powered By Osteons), Sam Hardy (Conflict Antiquities) and Howard Williams (Archaeodeath). Read the book here.

As I stated in my last entry for the series back in April, I sincerely hope that the archaeology carnival becomes an annually recurring feature of blogging archaeology online.  There are certainly many potential subjects left to be covered by such a venture and the carnival truly brings an inclusive aspect to the archaeology blogging world and archaeology in general.  It also helps to highlight the sheer amount and wealth of archaeology and heritage themed blogs that I, personally, had not previously known about.

It has also shown that you shouldn’t be afraid about jumping into this world yourself, no matter what your background, interest or experience.  It really is open to anyone who wants to write or talk about archaeology, where the number of platforms and ways to engage the audience is limited only by your own imagination.  Overall the blogging carnival was a fantastic opportunity to reflect on what blogging meant to me, where it has taken me so far and where I hope it will take me in the future.  So to Doug I say a big thank you for putting this together and for producing the publication.

Gaming Archaeology: Digging Up E.T.

1 May

Imagine finding thousands upon thousands of copies of a game thought long-lost (well at least since the 80’s).  You may think they’d be worth a fortune, you may wonder who did could fund such a scheme, or you may simply wonder why it would be worth digging or searching for the games in the first place.

Courtesy of NPR and The New Statesman I’ve found out about a pretty interesting project to recover the mythically dumped 1983 E.T. movie tie-in game cartridges from a suspected landfill site in Alamogordo, New Mexico.  Although the rumour of the Atari company dumping truck fulls of this wildly unsuccessful tie-in game was long thought to have been an urban legend, the film director Zak Penn and associated archaeologists have managed to find, excavate and recover thousands of the said game from the landfill site in the southern US state, proving that Atari really did dump their sadly unloved game en mass.

Is this really archaeology though?*  In a way it is as it fits the basic concept of recovering the material remains of past populations and cultures.  The video game cartridge itself is now a relic in the modern gaming age, an age where games can be downloaded and played almost anywhere in the world, on a wide range and ever-increasing variety of platforms.

Cartridge and retro gaming still retains a strong and vibrant audience however, and the media attention that this uncovering has gained has gone some way to prove that there is still a deep interest in what was then the emerging gaming market.  It is highly likely that the above game also represents a touch point for a certain gaming generation audience, a period where money flooded into the development for the nascent gaming industry.  Indeed, amongst a selection of my own  friends you only have to mention the 1997 Nintendo 64 James Bond game Goldeneye and you are instantly met with misty looks of nostalgia and fond memories spilling from their mouths (and mine).

My immediate thought on hearing of the uncovering of thousands of copies of the game?  Where are they going to go!  There is a persistent rumour that the games may number in the millions, but this has yet to be seen.  It is likely that there will be a vibrant market for such early video gaming memorabilia, as keen gamers, for instance, have already set up shop at the site to play the copies that are coming straight out of the ground.

Yet the story of the E.T. games, resting in their thousands unloved and out of sight in a dumping ground in New Mexico for many years also reminded me of a challenge currently facing archaeology in the UK.  This is the issue of storage space.  Currently the storage space in museums and commercial units for the produce of archaeological investigations, namely the artefacts, environmental samples and archive documents produced or excavated during a projects lifetime, is already at bursting point in many institutions and organisations throughout the UK.  Thousands, if not millions, of artefacts and environmental samples are waiting to be either recorded, preserved, stored, curated or displayed.  The planning and excavation of archaeological sites is but one facet of archaeology as a whole, but every archaeological excavation (if it is necessary) must budget and plan for the storage and accession of the artefacts uncovered and of reports, plans and documents produced before, during and after the actual act of digging.

It is not an area of simple answers, nor could I suggest one here.  It is an area that I hope to explore in future blog posts as this is a rich area for study, and one intricately linked with the Open Access movement, digital media and the changing face of heritage in the UK.

* Yes!

Update 02/05/14

It seems as if I was too hasty to think that no archaeologists were involved with the project.  Comments on this post, from the ever helpful Doug (of Doug’s Archaeology) and from John of Where The Hell Am I fame, have highlighted the fact that archaeologists have been involved from the off in helping to manage the project, and locate and excavate the E.T. games.  You can read a pretty fantastic interview her with Andrew Reinhard, the lead archaeologist for the project, which discusses the contextualisation of the project.  Team member Bill Caraher also has a blog where he has written about the Atari project, and you can read a fascinating post here discussing the often limited mention of archaeologists in mainstream media.

I often try to let a blog post slowly materialise as I think about an angle and gather sources together to help form a wider view on a particular issue, but I wrote this particular entry pretty fast after reading a few mainstream media articles highlighting the project.  As an archaeological blogger (although arguably leaning towards osteoarchaeology more) I made the relatively fatal but benign error of not digging deeper and actually discovering myself that archaeologists were involved in this fascinating project.  So I thank the commenters on this post for keeping me right and for pointing me in the direction of the archaeologists themselves.

Blogging Archaeology: Future Goals of Blogging

14 Apr

This is the fifth and final entry in a blogging carnival that Doug Rocks-Macqueen, of Doug’s Archaeology, started back in November last year.  Just another quick recap: the whole idea of this blog carnival was started by Doug after he saw that the Society for American Archaeology are having their 79th annual conference in Austin, Texas, this month (in fact only a week or two away).  Doug specifically noticed that they are including a session on the rise of blogging in archaeology and, since he cannot be there himself, he thought it was pertinent to start a blogging carnival online to get the archaeology blogosphere alive with monthly questions.  The questions were posted on his site in the first week of each month, and can still be viewed for anybody interested in taking part still.

blogging-archaeology111133333333

Are all blogs the same? The beauty of blogging lies in both versatility and the independence of the format. (Image credit, remixed with MS Paint).

Last month a total of 13 wonderful bloggers took part in February’s entry for the carnival.  The question was actually open-ended and as Doug’s states he thought he had almost killed the carnival!  But I think we can all say that February was a pretty busy month all round for most people.  My entry, which can be read here, tackled the meaning of the blog, and blogging in general, because I’d largely felt that this whole carnival has been a wonderful exercise in self-reflection.  And I have to admit I do enjoy writing about the ecology of blogging, it really is a wonderful world of diversity in the archaeology blogging area with all manner of topics tackled and approaches used. Remember that if you are an archaeology blogger (in any way whatsoever) then feel free to jump right in and join.  Answering the past blogging questions is very much welcomed at any time.  The previous months questions can be found here, jump in and join – I highly recommend it!

For this month’s topic Doug has asked about the future of blogging, of goals and aims we’d like to achieve or changes we’d like to see implemented.  45 fantastic archaeology bloggers have already replied so far and Doug has done a very nice little round-up of the final entries.  I finish as I started, as once again I am pretty late with my entry!  So let’s get this final blog arch carnival entry on the go…

Blogging the Future

This blog has recently passed 1 million views, which is pretty cool I think for something that I started in my bedroom whilst thinking about the forthcoming Masters degree, and more specifically about what I could do to try to improve my knowledge before I started the degree.  Now I am post-Masters, looking towards a few possible futures on the horizon.  My email inbox for this blog has started to ping a bit more than usual recently, with various different requests or offers starting to arrive.  Everything from students wanting to know more about the human skeleton and asking questions on essays and research, publishing houses informing me of their latest open access journals, to offers of review books for exhibitions or novels.  It is pretty interesting and I am very much enjoying helping out where I can, especially in being able to help share knowledge and advice, or to inform a reader on what collections or museums to check out for human osteological collections.  This is something that I should probably write a post about, now I come to think about it.

But I think the future for the blog is pretty obvious at the moment.  I want to do more, where and if I can.  I repeat my clarion call for guest blog entries.  I want to interview more archaeologists and bioarchaeologists, so if you are interested get in touch.  I also need to revisit a fundamental pillar of the blog and finish the Skeletal Series blog entries.  Those entries in the draft folder that don’t extend beyond a half-finished bibliography and a choice selection of key words?  I should finish those!  One of my recent previous posts, Future Steps, preempted last month’s blogging archaeology carnival question and highlights some thoughts on the future of this blog, including trying to gather together the skeletal series posts in a PDF or a printout form, and the possible use of photoessays for some future blog entries.

Other bloggers have mentioned that they see the future of blogging utilizing the integration of video blogging and podcasts into primarily written word blogs.  Whilst I can definitely see the future potential and audience for this, it is not something that I am currently considering or pursuing for a variety of reasons just yet.  What I do think is important is to approach the topic of archaeology in a variety of ways, interacting with an audience using various formats.  Bloggers, as a rule of thumb, are quite individual and diverse in their use of style, presentation and technology.  This is their strength in maintaining both their independence and in their means of communication to a diverse and open audience.

Standing Alone

Bioarchaeology and human osteology are generally well represented within the ecology of archaeology blogging, offering as it does an often intimate portrait of the human being within archaeology itself.  This, though, is a fairly recent trend, but it is certainly a trend on an upward surge at the moment.  It can be pretty hard to get noticed if you are blogging about archaeology and a specialism within archaeology, therefore I would always suggest that you try to pin point a unique selling point if possible.  Something slightly different that other bloggers have not tackled or have only briefly touched upon.

Bloggers are also essentially stand alone operations, where the blog is often tied to that one individual.  Plenty of bloggers use their real names and include photographs of themselves, while some just use their blog name as their identity.  For a long time I withheld my full name on the blog as I wanted it to truly stand alone, to be attached only to itself.  Partly this was due to just outright curiosity as to how it would be received, if at all, and to the fact that I had some privacy concerns.  Personal thoughts aside, there has been real strides with regards to the acceptance and value of blogging.  But I don’t think funding bodies or academic institutions value the blog format enough as a form of education outreach, and I hope that this is something that changes in the future.

Brief Thoughts

I’m currently re-reading The Rebel by the French philosopher Albert Camus, and in his 1951 essay Camus touches upon a point that I think is pertinent to blogging as a whole:

“In our daily trials, rebellion plays the same role as does the cogito in the category of thought: it is the first clue.  But this clue lures the individual from his solitude.  Rebellion is the common ground on which every man bases his first values.  I rebel – therefore we exist.”

Blogging archaeology is a form of the  individual freedom of expression, one that is not typically constricted or gagged by contract or institution.  As such it is both an addition to the individual’s expression of educational outreach, but importantly it is also a subversion of the normal mode of delivery for such information and news.  Perhaps especially so when blogging bioarchaeology as many of the most widely read bloggers are affiliated with academic institutions.  Bloggers can talk to the audience directly – they bypass the formal apparatus normally associated with academia and often reach a far wider audience by doing so.  It is mass communication, although it is purely up to the blogger themselves as to how they promote their blogs and interact with their audience.

It is also acknowledgement of the sharing of information of which only a few are privy, or have the access to.  In this way it the rebellion of the individual.  Jess Beck, over at Bone Broke, highlights the fact that blogging allows her to maintain her interest in bioarchaeology and provide content to others who are interested in osteology and palaeopathology.  In a way blogging validates our passion and cements the feeling that we exist, our passion exist and the audience for the information exists.  As such by blogging we are offering first hand accounts from specialists to an interested audience.  Especially at a time when public outreach and engagement is a foundation that is fundamentally needed to provide the validation of the value and worth of our fields in the face of ongoing cuts and funding issues.

Bioarchaeology and human osteology blogs differ in their approach to topics, but all largely adhere in discussing the latest research published in pay-walled journals, often offering summaries or alternative sources to access the information.  By the very vitality of the format, blogging can also challenge the very structure and foundation of formalised academic institutions.  However, there must be careful considerations of how far we either stray or maintain the relationships between the two forms of information dispersal.  As Doug himself notes it is the very freedom of blogging that makes it so special, that if it were mainstreamed to fit the academic mould then the magic from blogging would probably be gone.  It is an analysis that I can definitely agree with, but I do also think that there is some wiggle room for communication between the two.  Speaking of blogging generally, I do believe that there must be dialogue, there must be critical analysis, there must be a frankness and an openness in the way we (the bloggers) produce content.  But this does not mean that we can not be funny or make jokes, as many bloggers do to great effect.

This also leads me onto my next brief point, the demography of bloggers themselves.  In the online bioarchaeological world the bloggers themselves are largely western, English-speaking individuals that dominate the discussion and the main attention of the audience.  In the future I’d like to see further diversity in the representation of bioarchaeology bloggers worldwide (1).  Language is of course a problem – English is the lingua franca of the world, but there is immense scope for the views of the many bioarchaeologists and human osteologists worldwide.  Blogging is, after all, largely a free format in which to produce content.  Identity is also an important topic to discuss when considering the future of blogging as a majority of bioarchaeology bloggers tie the blog name and identity to their own name, twitter account and/or professional career.  Whilst this is to be expected in a particularly competitive field, I am wary of doing this myself.  This blog, after all, is just one facet of my personal being- it is not the whole.

Although I have raised the idea that blogging is rebellion, it is also trapped within a conditioning of legitimacy.  Particularly in that of academic institution affiliation offered as a proxy for the legitimacy of the information presented and discussed.  As far as I am aware I am one of the few bioarchaeological bloggers not currently a doctoral student, a researcher attached to or teaching at a university, or a commercial unit employee.  I do, of course, have the academic background, experience and knowledge to understand the technical terminology within bioarchaeology, and I am actively applying for archaeological jobs and looking at further research.

But I think it may also actively discourage amateur archaeologists or interested members of the public from engaging with blogs or make them think twice on starting a blog themselves.  So I think we have a slight disconnect here between what we think we represent, to what we are and to how others may perceive us.  Market saturation and the dominance of fields are definitely things that should be considered and discussed when trying to understand blogging ecology.  Diversity, for me, is the key to a healthy and developing blogosphere and I encourage debate and critical analysis.

Archaeology is a powerful tool in helping to understand both the human past and to engage critically with our own cultural perceptions (Joyce 2008, Pluciennik 2005).  As such I will continue to blog about archaeology and bioarchaeology as they are subjects that are close to my heart both professionally and personally.  Blogging can (and has) made a difference both inside and outside of academia and, as an active blogger, I would encourage others from around the world to start their own archaeology blogging journey to see where it takes you.

A Fond Farewell

And so it is with a heavy that I bid farewell to the blogging archaeology carnival as hosted by the fantastic digital curator Doug Rocks-Macqueen.  I shall certainly miss the monthly chances to write an introspective post on blogging from the perspective of an archaeology blogger, but I shall miss more the opportunity afforded by the carnival to meet new archaeology bloggers online, to hear views and opinions I had not thought of or considered.  This, for me, has been the true beauty of the blogging archaeology carnival and I for one hope it returns, in some form, in the near future.  So thank you to all the bloggers who have taken part – it has been a joy to read your entries and to be able to focus some thoughts of my own in my entries.

The final review for the blogging archaeology carnival can be found here on Doug’s fantastic website, as can all the bloggers who have taken part in the last session of the carnival.

Notes

(1).  Of course there may well be a wide range of foreign bioarchaeology blogs that I am simply unaware of and cannot read because of the language used.  If you know any, please leave a comment below as I’d be interested to hear about them!

Bibliography

Camus, A. 2013. The Rebel. London: Penguin Modern Classics.

Joyce, R. A. 2008. Ancient Bodies, Ancient Lives: Sex, Gender and Archaeology. London: Thames and Hudson Ltd.

Pluciennik, M. 2005. Social Evolution, Duckworth Debates in Archaeology Series. London: Gerald Duckworth & Co. Ltd.

White, T. D. & Folkens, P. A. 2005. The Human Bone Manual. London: Elsevier Academic Press.