Hey all! I'm a bit more than half of the way through Trachtenberg at the moment and I thought I'd share some thoughts - I know you were all waiting breathlessly.
Thus far Trachtenberg does a good job staying on track with what I feel to be his main argument - that Incorporation/Industrialization caused a revolution in the very definition of America - its social patterns, thoughts, art, etc, in short, its culture. This is impressive as what cultural history texts I've read, admittedly few, have often read more like metaphysical tracts of a hundred and fifty years ago.
Trachtenberg's thematic approach is helpful in keeping the reader focused. By chapter two, "Mechanization Takes Command", you begin to see how the author builds from changing cultural ideas regarding the settlement of the west, i.e. the west as Jeffersonian dream vs. West as extension of Incorporation, to how Mechanization itself changed culture via Mechanization's enforcement of time discipline etc. Sprinkled throughout these "concrete" examples of change over time, i.e. railroads, Trachtenberg utilizes language, art, spectacle, etc, to show changing cultural perceptions and specifically how culture in America was changing due to Incorporation/Industrialization. The use of these "cultural" elements is of course standard fair in cultural history.
I will say I have enjoyed and found the arguments cogent in The Incorporation of America as much as I have ever enjoyed any work of cultural history - which is to say lukewarm at best. At the heart of my less than enthusiastic response to works of cultural history in general, including The Incorporation of America, is the constantly nagging thought, when I'm reading said works, of, "Did the people of the time actually conceive of these buildings, works of literature, spectacles in these ways?" Strong arguments can be made for, "Yes, they did." Trachtenberg in particular has come the closest of any cultural historian I've read of carrying his arguments via a use of cultural examination.
However, there is a penchant in cultural history of citing a few examples from the "culture" of the time and then inferring broad movements. In Trachtenberg, a good example of this comes on pages 119-120. In reference to the symbolism of skyscrapers and what they meant to the people and culture of the time under discussion, the author states, "Even the most rationally designed skyscrapers still presented themselves as statements of implacable power, and even forms designed to demystify the interior organization of space only further mystified the larger organization of life." What does this statement even mean? I understand the "symbol of power aspect", but the mystification of the organization of life? At best it's a vague reference to Incorporation's causation of change within social orders, but where is the proof? And again, I have to ask, did anyone at the time actually walk into a skyscraper and say, "You know what? The way this place is laid out really confuses my understanding of the ordering of life. What does life mean? I am going home to read Nietzsche."
Cheers,
Carl
Will somebody please argue with Carl?
ReplyDeleteBring it.
ReplyDeleteWhat Carl fails to understand here is that Trachtenberg is trying to show how a nominally economic structure - incorporation - in fact had broad impact upon societal and cultural change in America. To carry his point Trachtenberg utilizes spectacle, popular literature, buildings etc, to show how people of the times were struggling with these changes as well as to show the changes themselves. The skyscraper is not important in and of itself. What it symbolizes is important - the further division of labor in the United States, inscrutable management practices, alienation of the monied class from the republican ideals of early generations and a re-purposing/redefining of the older republican ideals to fit the modified society.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteCarl, I agree with some of the points you've put forth to refute Carl's earlier criticism of Trachtenberg. Carl may also wish to consider that perhaps the skyscraper _is_ important in and of itself when we consider what the historian is asserting about them. They represented the radical transformation of society as America was "incorporated," and you have noted part of this process above: the workers' alienation in the shift from free to wage labor. Very Marxist. Furthermore, since "specialized and arcane knowledge" replaced "traditional knowledge among skilled manual laborers" (69), there seems to be a connection to engineering replacing traditional architecture in the design of skyscrapers. T. argues that the vestigial designs of older methods really only functioned to cloak the new purpose and identity of such buildings in recognizable designs. This served further to alienate the working classes within and without since what they thought they were seeing--signs of an era with which they were comfortable, signs of an era in which they had a place--was not at all what was actually there: a new world order where the power structure lay outside of their grasp. These were buildings that would not disclose exactly where power lay, and yet for so many urban working class people, the skyscraper was where work took place. This seems to be the mystification to which T. refers.
ReplyDeleteI agree. But did "they" i.e. the workers think that way themselves. There is a difference between arguments that are theoretically possible and arguments that are pragmatically probable. Could the workers of the times have conceived of skyscrapers in the way T describes - maybe. Is it likely - I would argue no it isn't. So, if the workers of the time were unlikely to construe the interior design of skyscrapers in the way argued by T, what is the utility here for the historian in understanding that moment in time?
Delete- 1st Carl
Intervention! The mystification T. refers to is a larger process. He begins by pointing out that cities have always had their "mysterious" side, which is to say, they embody dazzling displays of human organization and waste; they are sites of great pleasures and horrible pain; they dazzle and repulse; and they do all of this simultaneously. The worker/visitor/observer/whoever who sees skyscrapers being erected in Chicago will likely have mixed feelings, including a sense of bewilderment--how can such a building even be built? How can they get that tall? Who has THAT kind of money? And why are their street urchins running wild at the construction site?
ReplyDeleteI don't think it is the job of the cultural historian to give us the "this is how ordinary people read skyscrapers" argument, but rather to give us an idea of the conflict and contradiction inherent in the cultural symbol. Skyscrapers were undoubted statements of wealth and power, but they also more silently reflected the corporate control over city planning and its chaotic features. I would wager that many people who stared at skyscrapers felt weird and uneasy, but weren't sure why. Many probably just said they were "ugly," but couldn't put their finger on just why these ugly buildings made them feel so strange.
This is where T. is living--somewhere between cultural subject and cultural object. Carl's point about what the common man is thinking is most likely true (although he has misread T. on "interior space", which is not about the inside of skyscrapers--rather it is that the outside of skyscrapers do not hide what is going on inside them with lots of frilly stuff, culminating in Louis Sullivan's famous statement that architects should subjugate form to function, and hence one should be able to see THROUGH a building). But even if Carl is right, does this make T. wrong?
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DeleteHmmmm.... These are excellent points:) I would however like to ask for a clarification. When historians make arguments - is it not incumbent upon them to provide support for their arguments? Ergo, if a historian argues that certain functions/forms of buildings elicited a certain response from a populace - is the historian not obliged show that the populace actually did feel that way about the building?
DeleteLet me make clear, I am not arguing here that T is wrong in all his interpretations within the work. I would agree that skyscrapers made their viewers queezy for several reasons. However, where is the proof? If the worth of the skyscraper in this context is as "cultural symbol" then that symbol only has value in so far as the culture of the time perceived it. It is a reflection of that culture. Yet, if the culture (read population) did not perceive it in this way, the strength of the author's argument is weakened. Is it not therefore necessary to provide evidence that the population viewed said building in the manner argued? I agree with T in many of his arguments, I just don't think he supported several of some of them adequately.
Let us not mirco-focus so much on the Skyscraper - it was merely the closest example to hand when writing my first response, and my inclusion of the skyscraper was meant more to illustrate what I viewed as problems with T supporting his arguments - and less whether or not people actually viewed the buildings in this way - although I would still maintain (in this particular case) that they didn't. Whew! I'm going for broke on this week's blog participation grade.
To your question: The worker/visitor/observer/whoever who sees skyscrapers being erected in Chicago will likely have mixed feelings, including a sense of bewilderment--how can such a building even be built?
DeleteI must put on my art historian hat here. There are many reasons for people to show bewilderment and wonder at the massive, even seemingly impossibly tall buildings constructed at this time. These reasons have much to do with technology. Concrete formulation changed. Steel manufacturing processes changed during this era too. Prior to these technological changes – buildings were prone to collapse for reasons that we may discuss later. After these changes, people built tall and taller structures because they could.
In the realm of art history there is an adage that goes, "The medium is the message." Skyscrapers are as much a monument to themselves as they are a monument to the egos of those persons engaged in their development. That message somehow seems missing from T's narrative and above.
I have been reading T's book - waiting for him to launch into some facet of the revolution in structural materials' composition and their cultural significance. Alas.
Then there's this: "Even the most rationally designed skyscrapers still presented themselves as statements of implacable power, and even forms designed to demystify the interior organization of space only further mystified the larger organization of life."
Goodness gracious that is wrapped into itself. This might be a good point of departure to dive into how a building's size in relation to others denoted its importance at any point in time.
To wit: in medieval cities the church was the most important building so it was the largest among the urban cluster; in colonial urban centers the government buildings were the most important and so were the largest structures, surpassing religious institutions; in the modern age the commercial centers appreciate the highest regard of societal importance and, thus, dominate the skyline.
Then there is the psychology of architectural design for consideration. One does not design a bank to look the same way as one would design a theater. Each is intended to evoke a very specific raft of emotions - both positive and negative depending on a subjective point-of-view.
Each is some measure of cultural ethos.
Anyone agree? Disagree?
Both Carls make good points, but I read Trachtenberg's point to be that the general populace did not necesarilly think about how the ever incorporated American landscape and social world, but were still effected by its enormous, yet contradictory implications. There's reasonable debate about whether analyzing "a few examples" of culture are accurate interpretations of society writ large, but what is clearly important are the motivations of those who design and construct the structures and systems in which society engages on a quotidian basis. To his credit, the main arbiter of social incorporation which T. chronicle is architect Frederick Law Olmsted. His works are not relegated to one example or even arena of cultural space. Known for designing college campuses, state capitols, hospitals, national parks, world expositions, "entire communities," and city parks "(including Central Park), this one man has had an impact on the most symbolic and integral spheres of American history and experience. The world-view of this one man during such a complicated age effected how the country engaged work, play, government, the urban, the wilderness, and death. On top of that, his philosophy on how he approached design is documented in his own words. Wanting to bring order to the chaos Olmsted saw in the strikes of the time, he wanted to bring "order and system" and "teach the metropolis about itself." With the riots of the time so fresh in his mind, Olmsted designed his parks to be societal safety valves that both diffused and separated class strife. The order he was so interested in instilling was clearly focused on "the number of idle, thriftless, criminal, and dangerous classes." There you have it: "dangerous classes." T. repeatedly quotes Olmsted's aspersions on the lower classes and "the street culture Olmsted found so vile." The end result is a growing separation of spheres of daily life, where work, play, and home are increasingly separated. By extension the average citizen might not be concious of how this effects them internally, but the evidence that they were "bewildered" and fraught with contradictory emotions permeates T.'s book. Trachtenberg parallels the themes of incorporation with the paradoxes they transmute upon the AMerican psyche. I feel this is the thematic thread which underlies T.'s entire argument, and he gives copious examples. Beginning with the concept the opposing binary of "production" and "destruction," we read about how machines were the cause of abundance as well as the cause of poverty, desire for "progress" leads to the nostalgia for the "past," and finally that cities represent places of virtue as well as places of mystery and danger. Trachentenberg's point seems to be that these contradictory facets of incorporated society became internalized in its citizens whether they realized it or not. More importantly, while coming from a place of benevolence, those who worked to further incorporate the nation succeeded in fragmenting its psyche.
ReplyDeleteOH! And because I know Carl loves abstract illustrations of historical processes, here's a link to a clip of performance artist Matthew Barney's movie about the construction of the Chrysler Building. I kept thinking about his movie while reading this book. A common theme which runs through Barney's work is the idea that human beings are constantly trying to construct physical manifestations of their desire to project force/power outward. This can be represented in the vector which is created when a quarterback throws a football, a person shoots a gun, or a skyscraper is built to to extend from the Earth. See how many of Trachtenberg's themes you can spot!
ReplyDeleteOh, and if you think this stuff it too weird, keep in mind this guy has a child with Bjork. Enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Reu9zMuU-0s