By Megan Novak Wood, Associate Director of Undergraduate Research, Northwestern University
One of the biggest challenges in recruiting student participants in the arts and humanities is helping them explore their interests and making sure they know what research looks like in their fields of study. Additionally, there may be fewer opportunities for students to assist on faculty projects given the individualistic nature of many methodologies. Finally, faculty in creative fields may not see their work as research. Combined, these barriers to entry make it harder for students in the arts and humanities to get started.
ASKING THE RIGHT QUESTIONS
One strategy is to introduce research in the context of answering questions, although the output itself may vary. While a student in theatre may ultimately be interested producing a play, the dramaturgy involved in the process requires answering a number of questions. Encourage students to think about what is unknown about particular topics. What do we not know that we need to know? If the student is in the creative arts, why do they need to make a particular piece? How does it add to the conversation in the field?
How students figure out appropriate questions to answer really depends on how the field asks questions. Good first steps to take are reading scholarship, talking to field experts, and gaining a sense of methods used in a particular discipline.
WADING INTO THE CONVERSATION
Reading scholarship varies widely within fields because the format and structure vary. While a history student may read a book chapter, a journalism student may read mainstream articles, and a theatre student may read plays and critiques. It is important to emphasize that students should read content that is relevant to their field of study! The goal should be to understand the current conversations in their field around a particular topic. Ultimately the student can work to position their research question within this broader conversation.
TALKING TO EXPERTS
When talking to field experts, encourage students to take advantage of office hours. It is useful for students to know how the faculty expertise is relevant to the project they have in mind. The student can frame the conversation in terms of their particular interests and learn how the faculty might be able to provide guidance on a topic, methodology, or process. It is always a good idea for students to also ask what else they should be reading and who else they should be talking to.
RESEARCH RESOURCES
The easiest first step may simply be encouraging the students to learn about what research commonly looks like in a particular discipline. This is not intuitive in many arts and humanities fields. As a result, Northwestern University created a series of short video interviews with faculty. The videos discuss what research looks like across a range of fields (with particular focus on arts and humanities fields). They also explore how an undergraduate could get started.
It isn’t often when undergraduates are granted the opportunity to connect family heritage and independent student research while bringing awareness to underrepresented fields. Sofia D’Amico, an art history major with a concentration in Asian art at Fordham University has been given this very opportunity in her project studying the work of artist Tiffany Chung. CURAH recently interviewed Sofia to learn more about her project.
CURAH: What was the nature of your project?
SD: My research focuses on the work of contemporary Vietnamese-American artist Tiffany Chung, especially her cartographic works which study global migration, displacement, conflict, and urban development, and their relation to history and cultural memory. Chung was born in Danang, Vietnam in 1969 and became part of the post-1975 Vietnamese Exodus of refugees to the United States, following the communist siege of South Vietnam. She currently lives and works inHouston, Texas. Her maps, rendered in attractive pastels and jewel-tones, invite viewers to question information often taken for granted, like historical memory, as tied to place, and the accuracy of conventional systems of knowledge.
I explored her work in three different spaces in 2018: a group exhibition at Asia Society Houston titled New Cartographies, which explored maps as an artistic medium, her solo-booth of work at Miami Art Basel, and her major solo-exhibition at the Smithsonian American Art Museum: Vietnam, Past is Prologue. I considered what her works achieve in these shows, as well as her transnational artistic identity as a Vietnamese refugee, and how her life experiences have oriented her work towards an international, historical focus. I investigated such questions as, Does Chung’s work transcend nationality? What are some of the obstacles that artists from Southeast Asia encounter in establishing relevance to US audiences? And at the same time, how does Chung’s work depart from precedent and tradition? As a Vietnamese refugee is Chung expected to create work about the Vietnam War? How do Americans understand the Vietnamese, apart from the war and its cultural exports? Is it reductive to attach the label of Vietnamese-American artist to Chung when she works hard to be international in her perspective?
CURAH: What were the easiest and hardest things about the work you did?
SD: Of course, Southeast Asian art history is a developing discipline, and my research on Tiffany Chung necessitated that I conduct my own art historical study. But even in the 20th century, many Southeast Asian countries have undergone tremendous hardships. And the reverberations of European colonial legacy (stemming as far back as the 1500s) are still felt in the study of Southeast Asian art history: most writing on Vietnamese art history, for instance, has been done in French and from the perspective of European colonizers––which can of course be problematic.
Since the establishment of an independent Vietnamese state in 1945, little money has been disbursed for such cultural projects. Besides listing painters in official registries of artists, little effort has been made to maintain archives of artworks or art movements in Vietnam; certainly, as compared to western countries or even the monolith cultures of East Asia like China and Japan. But because Vietnamese art history records are rarified, there is a greater need to interview living artists than to consult written documents. I’m excited to explore this going forward.
In short, the hardest part of the research project is really its most interesting feature: that is, understanding the multiplicity of Southeast Asian art, learning about it largely independently, and communicating my findings in a way that is accurate, respectful, and sensitive to those it relates most to. Especially as an undergraduate, it’s intimidating to put research findings and original ideas out there in the global sphere. But it is also incredibly exciting to become informed in topics you were once simply curious about, which I think was the easiest part of the work. Having a connection to the work and being passionate about the topic made it easy and enjoyable to search for resources and interview specialists. I think the nature of Southeast Asian artists being understudied made it all the more encouraging to dive in.
CURAH: What kinds of things did you learn?
SD: Because my research interest was prompted in part by my own heritage, I was able to use my family history as a springboard for learning about Southeast Asian art. My mother is a Vietnamese immigrant, and, incidentally, grew up in the same city and around the same time as Tiffany Chung. I didn’t learn much about Southeast Asia and Vietnam in school (apart from the war), so as I grew up, I would ask my mom about Vietnam. But her experience as a refugee made her understandably sensitive to some topics. I grew up, like most people, knowing little about Southeast Asia and thinking that artistically it had little to offer the world. Despite majoring in art history and concentrating in Asian art, I knew virtually nothing about the art of Vietnam.
With encouragement from my professor of art history and mentor, Dr. Asato Ikeda, as well as support from my school, Fordham University, I started doing independent research. And I couldn’t believe what I had missed out on! I interned at Tyler Rollins Fine Art in Chelsea, New York––the only art gallery in the country dedicated to contemporary Southeast Asian artists. Rollins and his gallery taught me how fascinating Southeast Asian culture and history really are, as the confluence of South Asian, Indian and Hindu influences, and East Asian Confucian, Daoist, and Chan Buddhist society. And, as such, Southeast Asian and diasporic artists create work that is wholly unique in perspective, context, and content. There is so much to both say and write on the subject.
CURAH: Did you make any discoveries along the way?
SD: I definitely made discoveries which encouraged me to keep going! As simple as it is, one thing I discovered as I went deeper into my project, was how much work and research still needs to be done in this field, and similar fields to it. There is so much interesting phenomena––some tragic, some triumphant––that evade contemporary consciousness.
I began my work by focusing on one contemporary Vietnamese-American artist, but ended up branching into Vietnamese art history, clearly under-researched. From there I learned about contemporary Vietnamese history, like the Japanese occupation of Vietnam and artists who were half-Vietnamese and half-Japanese, creating art about their families’ experiences: pieces of history I had no idea about. When I found out about this occupation, I was able to bring it forward to my mother, who opened up about our family’s interactions with Japanese soldiers. This research ultimately helped me, in my study of art, as well as personally, in understanding complicated and difficult parts of history.
From here, another important discovery for me was the possibility of doing research in a way that parallels the artists’ practices that I am interested in: by sharing microhistories, individual narratives, and family experiences, and exploring what a radical act that can be.
While researching Tiffany Chung, I witnessed a four-channel video installation titled The Specter of Ancestors Becoming (2019) by artist Tuan Andrew Nguyen, which chronicles the descendants of Senegalese French colonial soldiers once stationed in Vietnam tirailleurs Sénégalais — and features stories written by three members of a Vietnamese community in Senegal. One portion of the video observed the tense confrontation between a half-Vietnamese half-Senegalese boy with his Senegalese soldier father, who whisked him away from Saigon at a young age and never allowed him to know his Vietnamese mother. This piece allowed viewers like me to connect with a small community and especially with individual families’ experiences, as they were affected by war and colonialism. I thought it was radical and moving to have this focus on smaller units of research like individual communities, people, and events. I’d like to carry this awareness of microhistory forward with me throughout future research in my academic career.
CURAH: How has the project helped you in your career goals?
SD: It is due to this project that I have found my art historical focus and ongoing research interest in making more familiar, to myself and others, the peripheralized stories of Southeast Asian artists within Asian art and the world’s art histories more broadly. It has helped me realize that I would like to be a part of a larger movement academically, whether that is Southeast Asian art historians, researchers of Asian diaspora, or scholars of socially-engaged contemporary art.
It’s also made more clear the need for further diversification of US art spaces. Visual culture and art act as some of the most powerful ways people understand each other transnationally. I would love to see the development of more robust Southeast Asian curatorial programming in museums and galleries in the future, and I hope to help contribute to it someday. And it’s encouraging to see institutions like Fordham actively supporting these art historical projects. The voices of emerging undergraduate researchers are wanted and our work is important on so many levels.
Recently, as I was working with a professional organization to put together a poster session at a national conference, it dawned on me that the staff members tasked with making the practical arrangements with the hotel hosting the conference had no idea what a poster session was or how to “do” it. It simply has not been a big part of how people in my discipline (art history) communicate our research. But it should be, I think, because poster sessions are much more inclusive than panels and help shape the future of the discipline in ways that panels cannot. With their less structured format, their casual, chatty atmosphere, and their emphasis on a wide variety of research and creative work as opposed to a narrow focus, they provide many more opportunities for discussion, idea-generation, and networking than the traditional panel format does.
Essentially, the purpose of a poster session is to give presenters a chance to talk to a diverse audience about the nature, process, and significance of their work, and the audience a chance to learn about the scope of research taking place within a field. Furthermore, through the conversations that take place at such sessions, new professional relationships are seeded, new critical perspectives on the presented work and perhaps also work by the visitors hatched, and work gets a healthy dose of fresh air.
The undergraduate journal Young Scholars in Writing is accepting submissions for its 18th volume. The deadline is April 8, 2020. This volume is seeking articles, responses to previous YSW articles, methodological reflections, and spotlights on first-year writing research. (More information can be found here.) Young Scholars in Writing is an international peer-reviewed journal and publishes work by undergraduates of all majors. The journal focuses on the subjects of rhetoric, writing, writers, discourse, language, etc. YSW uses a 2-step submission process. First, authors need to submit their abstracts. Then they will receive instructions on the manuscript submission.
Summer undergraduate research in the humanities can be a great opportunity for students who might be interested in graduate work. Many colleges have programs that pair students with faculty mentors; these experiences often begin work toward a major, capstone experience.
Carthage College, in Kenosha, WI, has such a program, the Summer Undergraduate Research Experience, or SURE. Each summer, between 25 and 50 students from across campus spend ten weeks on campus in collaboration with a faculty member on a new or developing line of inquiry. This summer, rising senior Caleb Hays (English/Public Relations) worked with English Professor Maria Carrig on Samuel Beckett, the Irish writer; CURAH recently got to hear a bit about it.
CURAH: Tell us about your project.
CH: My project centers on the renowned Irish writer Samuel Beckett. Mostly known for his theatre works such as Waiting for Godot, Beckett is also responsible for some wonderfully strange prose works. I had to produce a critical essay that would add something new to the conversation surrounding Beckett studies, a task much more difficult than it sounds. Beckett is an insanely popular author, and in searching through the hundreds of books and essays on his work one gets the feeling that everything to be written about him has already been written.
Yet, in my searching I started to get the feeling that the studies revolving around the author were largely about his theatre work, and painted Beckett as a pessimistic writer. I felt the latter was inherently false. The little I’d read of Beckett did have a certain weightiness to its content, but it was also extremely funny. I set out to uncover the underlying optimism in Beckett’s work by focusing on his trilogy of prose works, specifically his novel Malone Dies.
I worked for ten weeks with Professor Carrig as my supervisor, reading and discussing everything Beckett. Understanding this project would transfer over to my senior thesis, I concentrated on consuming as much material as possible. I read many of his plays and prose works, including many critical theorists and essayists pertinent to the subject. My paper took on a post-structuralist ideology in nature, focusing on the meta-fictional techniques used in Malone Dies and the multiple strata of narration concealed within the text. Ultimately, I came to view Malone Dies as being about the desire to reach a beginning, rather than an ending.
CURAH: What drew you to Samuel Beckett?
CH: I discovered Samuel Beckett’s work through a creative writing professor of mine, who mentioned to me in passing that I may enjoy some of his work. I was searching for a subject to complete my thesis on, so I read the first Beckett novel I could get my hands on: Watt. The novel was so unlike anything I had ever read, and I was hooked from the very start. I began to read more of his work, eventually coming to Malone Dies, finding myself so immersed in the work’s strangeness that I knew I had no other choice but to write about it. I have always loved modern, experimental writing that tests the limits of what fiction is capable of, so it was a perfect match.
CURAH: What were the easiest and hardest things about the work you were doing? Any surprises?
CH: The easiest part of my project was the reading. I read a lot of material through the course of the ten weeks, and I loved every minute. I was fortunate enough to receive a stipend for the work, so I spent my days doing nothing but reading and trying to make sense of some dense texts—which was a dream come true for any English major. The hardest part, while still enjoyable, was the actual creation of the paper. I had pages and pages of notes, but attempting to condense them and form a linear argument became quite difficult with the amount of material.
As far as surprises go, I suppose the biggest was how fulfilling the work was—I’ve never taken part in a project of this scope, so naturally I was nervous in the beginning. As the ten weeks progressed I realized how gratifying academic research of this level can be in its capacity to introduce new avenues of thinking.
CURAH: How has your understanding of Beckett grown?
CH: I’d like to say that my understanding of Beckett has grown a great deal, but I’m not sure that such a thing is possible. I have a greater respect for the depth of his work and the techniques he uses in his writing—but as a whole his writing is just as strange and otherworldly as when I first read it. In part, this is the beautiful thing about Beckett; reading his work is an experience, one that seems to change with time.
CURAH: How has the work informed your plans about the rest of college and beyond?
CH: The work I did this summer with Professor Carrig has made me seriously consider a career in academia. As of now my future is still uncertain, but the search for the appropriate graduate program is on the horizon. The project has given me a great deal, including the realization that being a student of literature is something I’ll continue doing for the rest of my life, regardless of career path.
If you’re lucky, your own campus will have wonderful paid summer opportunities to work on scholarly or creative projects. Nothing beats working with a faculty mentor who will follow you through your college career. But these opportunities might not be available, or you might like to cast your net wider. There are a number of regional and national summer research opportunities in the arts and humanities. Thanks to the work of our Councilors, CURAH now maintains a sortable database of summer research opportunities in the Arts and Humanities. We foreground the basic information that many websites keep in the fine print like application deadlines and whether or not the program comes with a salary or stipend.
We’ve included only options that seem to us to fit CUR’s description of undergraduate research: mentored, original, and leading to disseminated outcomes. Some of these experiences may be called “internships,” but we’ve eliminated anything that is just a job. If you need to write a proposal to apply for anything, consider CURAH’s excellent advice on writing a proposal. Application deadlines come thick and fast from December through February, so don’t dawdle.
We’re adding new opportunities constantly. If you know of a summer opportunity for undergraduates in your field, please let us know.
The latest book in Routledge Undergraduate Research Series is Undergraduate Research in Film: A Guide for Students by Lucia Ricciardelli, and CUR Councilors Jenny Olin Shanahan and Gregory Young. Like other books in this series, it focuses on students rather than on faculty mentors. Also, it deserves attention from a wider audience than the title implies. Most of its advice is applicable to any undergraduate research in the humanities. In its target area, film studies, the book introduces the readers to many student projects and online resources, as well as a few upper-level seminar classes.
Something for everyone
While the book is geared towards film majors, almost all humanities and arts students will find it beneficial because[1] the first half covers general topics such as literature reviews, reflective reading, and citing sources. Chapter Two[2] defines literature reviews as “a narrative that could stand on its own as a coherent essay, with unified paragraphs and transitions between points” (9). Additionally, it suggests readers treat literature reviews as “joining a conversation” and argues that original ideas emerge only from “closely reading, or ‘listening’ to, the previous participants’ ideas” (10). Furthermore, Chapter Two goes on to cover reading reflectively, with an appreciation of context and without undue deference to published material (13-14). Then, Chapter Seven discusses MLA and APA citation guidelines, offering clear reasons why different disciplines prefer different citation styles, and gives tips for avoiding plagiarism.
Advice in Film Studies
The second half of the book points readers towards areas of film studies that are “fertile terrain for research” (157) such as film theory, the process of producing film, and cinema’s impact on society and culture. The authors demystify film theory, calling it “the ability to speculate about the general principles and properties of film” and “a philosophical inquiry into the nature and function of film in general” (111). The book also offers many examples of undergraduate research in film, from individual projects that demonstrate the influence of “theoretical discussion of contemporary sociopolitical issues” on popular films to upper division seminars that include a research component (119-120). In conclusion, Undergraduate Research in Film is an exciting addition to a valuable series. It begins to shift focus from the arts toward the humanities (previous titles in the series were on music, dance, and art).
By Ian F. MacInnes, Alexa Sand, and Lisandra Estevez
Curating exhibitions is genuine research work that allows students to work collaboratively, engage the community, and practice public humanities scholarship. Exhibitions can teach students the fundamentals of research in a discipline while focusing on small and achievable outcomes, like bibliographic descriptions and short interpretive explanations. Exhibitions can help students understand and articulate the value of the public humanities. They allow students to practice making a persuasive visual and textual argument for a general audience. And finally, working on an exhibition is inherently collaborative, a model of humanities scholarship that is becoming more prevalent. Planning and mounting exhibitions can be resource and time intensive, but students tend to embrace the challenge. The public venue inspires them to do their best work.
An exhibition itself may be real or virtual, though whenever possible your students should have access to the actual objects they will be curating. Here are some things to be aware of if you are considering adding an exhibition project to your class.
Be open to different sources of material
The material for your exhibition is an opportunity to think creatively about the collaborative work you envision. Libraries and museums are obvious sources (and venues), but so are local historical societies. Smaller museums and libraries often have interesting collections of uncurated material, giving students an even more meaningful experience. Libraries also often have unadvertised collections of objects that can supplement documents. If local archives don’t have what you need, it is sometimes surprisingly easy to collect items yourself. Major auction sites, like eBay, are inexpensive sources of fragmentary material. Roman glass, Greek pottery sherds, pages from early print sources, and modern ephemera are all probably within reach of your budget. Finally, don’t forget that students can create facsimiles and replicas to build out an exhibition, either working on their own or with the help of experts on campus.
Prepare the ground with your collaborators
Whether working with a departmental or college gallery space, a campus museum, your library, or another on- or off-campus venue, start discussions long in advance of the first class meeting. Think about scheduling: when will the exhibition be installed or beta-tested? When will it open and will there be an associated event? When will it close and who will be responsible for taking it down and cleaning up? Are there special considerations to be taken into account in handling materials or working in the space, or the digital environment? Who will be responsible for what aspects of student support? For example, if display “furniture” such as supports or hanging hardware need to be constructed or installed, will the students do this, or will it be delegated to a preparator, and if so, is the service gratis, or fee based?
It’s a good idea to have all of this worked out ahead of time. That way, you can give student curators a comprehensive “map” of what their responsibilities will be, and what support they can expect from staff or curators employed by the exhibition venue.
Scaffold the needed skills into the class material
Exhibitions are daunting assignments from a student’s perspective, so it’s extra important to build student skills slowly from a base. Scaffolding, along with clear benchmarks, gives students a better sense of direction of where to start with this project. It is especially important in working with students who might have little experience with research in our disciplines.
Introductory explanation for the entire exhibition;
An exhibition catalog;
Posters advertising exhibition; and
Oral script of presentations for exhibition opening.
While scaffolding undergraduate research assignments might seem time-consuming, it actually allows for better time management for both students and instructors. By providing clear goals from the start, students get ongoing feedback regarding the progress of their project. Scaffolding also helps to model the research process for students step-by-step. They begin with a question, transform it into a statement or thesis, and carry out research for a bibliography. They then produce a substantial, thoughtful project that can be shared with the academic community.
Remember you are part of the team
As instructor, you are responsible for evaluating and assessing student work associated with the exhibition, but don’t forget that your name will also be publicly associated with the results. This means that you should consider yourself part of the team as well as an outside judge. While you normally avoid editing students’ work for excellent pedagogical reasons, you should not be shy about revising material that will be made public. Doing so not only helps create a better outcome but lets your students know that you are willing to work alongside them on a successful event.
Know your tools
Mounting an exhibition, whether actual or virtual, requires technical skills. As for most pedagogy, don’t evaluate your students on skills you don’t have yourself, including digital skills. And try to stick with exhibitions you feel confident about mounting yourself if you had to. Having a committed collaborator is often helpful, but don’t expect your IT department or your archivist to fill in for skills you lack.
Leave time for installation
It is tempting to think that final installation will go quickly since it’s just a physical event. But installations, whether physical or digital, take time, care, and can run into obstacles that may require time to fix. If you expect students to include replicas, make sure you plan for the time, space, materials, and expertise to help them achieve these goals. When possible, set aside some class time for installation. It’s practically the only time you can actually require all students to be present.
Plan your publicity
The more public your exhibition, the more your students will be inspired to do their best. Make publicity part of the project. Consider setting aside time and money for a “grand opening” event that includes campus stakeholders and influencers. As Chip and Dan Heath reveal in The Power of Moments, celebratory milestones can give students a sense of achievement and closure. And dissemination is a key element of undergraduate research: students should have the opportunity to interact with public visitors to their exhibition.
Further reading
Several models for curatorial work are discussed in this CUR Quarterly essay by Alexa Sand, Becky Thoms, Darcy Pumphrey, Erin Davis, and Joyce Kinkead of Utah State University, where the university’s library and art museum have often been the venues for student curatorial projects, and where the expertise of the library and museum staff are a critical factor.
Furthermore, a couple of great resources for composing museum labels and texts and creating inclusive exhibitions can be found here.
Johns Hopkins University’s first annual Richard Macksey National Undergraduate Humanities Research Symposium will be on April 3rd and 4th, 2020 at the main campus in Baltimore. The application portal is open now; the deadline for abstracts is January 24. If you need help, please consult our guide to writing an abstract.
Organizers hope to have 400 participants in the first year and will also be offering a select number of travel grants to help students afford participation (CURAH also has travel awards for students). Students working in all humanities fields are welcome. You can learn more (including details about travel arrangements, costs, etc.) at the conference site.
Timothy (TJ) Scherer, Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University ’22, is majoring in Computer Engineering at the University’s Daytona Beach campus. In November 2018, he became the student web designer for Dr. Debra Bourdeau’s Hogarth Online website and entered the world of digital humanities, something he never expected as a student at an aviation-focused university. Scherer modernized the site over the past year and has begun adding content this academic year.
Bourdeau is Chair of English, Humanities and Communication for ERAU’s Worldwide campus. She received an internal grant to revitalize the project, which had remained relatively unchanged since 2004. Because Dr. Bourdeau lives in the Atlanta area, project meetings occur by Skype; she and TJ have had to learn to work virtually.
CURAH recently caught up with TJ to ask how the project is going.
CURAH: Tell us about your project. What has been your role?
TJ: The Hogarth Online project was started with the goal of creating a more widely accessible resource for William Hogarth’s works. More often than not, commentary on Hogarth’s works is highly detailed and not welcoming to newcomers. This project is aimed at those who want to learn about William Hogarth but lack the expertise many existing resources assume. From home to classroom, I hope that this project will serve as a resource to students and professors alike. To accomplish this, I have compiled commentary and observations to help explain the individual elements of each artwork in a sophisticated yet simple manner. I want to provide the necessary background information to enrich people’s understanding of Hogarth.
My role in this project is to modernize the original website, improving the aesthetics and functionality using HTML, CSS, and JavaScript. This mostly consists of reorganizing the large amount of content using more recent web development techniques, along with adding in new content as the project grows. My greatest focus in this project has been adding as much functionality as I can to make the website a valuable classroom resource, providing different ways to view both the artworks and the associated commentary so that it can easily adapt to lesson plans and the technology in the classroom. From personal experience, this tends to be a frustrating issue for many students, and I believe that I have been successful in mitigating it.
CURAH: What have been the greatest challenges in the work you are doing?
TJ: Going into this project, my experience with HTML and CSS was fairly limited, and beginning to build the infrastructure for a website requires a significant amount of knowledge to maintain an organized structure that can be expanded upon in the future. It took a lot of research and practice to fully understand the best ways to structure the code, but once the foundation was in place, I had lots of room for experimentation to find the best layout for the site.
Once I had determined a general layout, I had to address the problem of organizing and displaying a large amount of content . After some research and experimentation using HTML and CSS, I decided that it would not be enough. Further research suggested that JavaScript had the answer to my problem, but I had never used it before. Using guides and example snippets of code, I was able to gain enough understanding of JavaScript to create a solution.
Beyond these technical challenges, I encountered some small difficulty in transferring the content because I was new to Hogarth. I was very fortunate to have Dr. Bourdeau available whenever I needed. Every time we talked she taught me a little more about Hogarth and his historical background.
CURAH: What have you learned (about Hogarth, digital humanities or yourself)?
TJ: Over the duration of this project, I have learned several things.
Engraving on a metal plate is a very interesting process, and the result is quite stunning. It absolutely amazes me how much effort has to go into each plate. The planning and the amount of detail involved is quite inspirational.
There is a surprising lack of documentation of Hogarth’s works. It took a decent amount of time to locate high resolution images of each of Hogarth’s plates that are included in the project.
I far prefer tasks that require research and creative thinking to achieve a goal. I enjoyed solving the problems I encountered while modernizing the website much more than I enjoyed transferring all of its contents to the new website.
CURAH: What has surprised you about this project?
The most surprising part of this project is the sheer amount of effort needed to produce this website. There are so many resources out there with similar levels of detail and content that it becomes easy to take them for granted. I can’t count the number of times a website’s design has frustrated me as a user, but being on the other end of the interaction is very eye-opening. From obtaining grants to compiling information, there is so much that goes into preparing to take on such a project, and even more to actually execute it. I was surprised to realize that it takes all of this effort just to make a single website, and it has given me a greater appreciation for each website I visit.
CURAH: How do you think this project will help you in your career or future studies?
The technical skills that I have developed from this project are probably the most notable way in which this project has already benefited me and will continue to in the future. By improving my understanding of the languages required to take on this project, I am simultaneously improving my skills in other programming languages. Further, the effort I put in to develop these skills has shown very good results, and now I think I will be more willing to put the same level of effort into future endeavors. Beyond this, the experience in communication and collaboration with Dr. Bourdeau is something I anticipate being very useful in the future, and that I am very thankful for.
The Arts and Humanities Division of the Council on Undergraduate Research