The recent New York Times article “A Hipper Crowd of Shushers” has already provoked a number of responses from across the biblioblogosphere, specifically from IU/SLIS folks, because my friends Pete and Sarah are mentioned. I was in the audience that night at Selam, and spoke to the reporter about being a librarian. I remember being a bit over the top, trying to express my passion for cataloging and metadata. (I think I used the term “cataloging culture” and tried to explain the concept of authority). I also pointed out the difference between libraries and archives. Too much perhaps, but what I find “hip” [can we please have a new word?!] about librarians, archivists, and information professionals is are those who desire to make their workplaces, and more broadly, their profession better by direct involvement (by getting involved directly through new media, rather than waiting a year or more to get their opinions published in a journal). This openness to more voices–diverse, experienced (and not-so-experienced)–helps to promote a better conversation I believe.
On the other hand, I believe libraries and archives are institutions which are meant to be a repository of human knowledge and creativity. How can we share materials if we can’t keep the bits alive, the books free of silverfish, and the acetate discs from delaminating? We must have a balance of preservation and access, so that we can serve future generations as well as those that walk in the door tomorrow.
Pete recently reminded me that I once said that I was a “culture conservative.” By this I don’t mean social, economic, religious, or political. I mean that I have an interest in preserving and encouraging the continued performance and cultivation of traditional forms of artistic and cultural expression. I do this by listening to classical music on the radio, as well as other forms of noncommercial radio. Whether it’s classical, jazz, show music, oldtime radio, stories, folk, country, or bluegrass. Where is the place for innovation in all this preserving? It’s an age-old question, that everyone has to make for themselves–because it is ultimately a question about taste. Aesthetically, I consider myself a blend of a formalist and a humanist, because I think that the elements of the artform are essential to the construction and intrinsic to the worthiness of a piece of art. And art is best when it informs the human condition, makes us ask questions of ourselves, and helps us to understanding what it means to be a human being. (This paragraph brought to you from memories of my aesthetics class in grad school). I don’t mean this as a high-low art comparison, because there’s place for both (and everything in between) in life.
