Maya Mikkelsen 27′

A student archaeologist excavating at Kenyon’s Bishop’s Cabin site is often filled with excitement on Mondays before class: “Will we open a new unit today?” “I hope I find a tooth!” or most commonly heard, “I just can’t wait to discuss our readings!” After the first hour of digging, the student’s internal dialogue changes slightly. It sounds a bit like this: “glass…nail…ceramic…glass…bone…button…glass…nail…what is that?”

With our faces in the dirt, we can begin to forget that these artifacts aren’t just objects. We certainly label and identify them in our field journals simply so. These artifacts carry a history of existence along with them, which isn’t forgotten even after nearly 200 years in the ground. When we analyze the artifacts, it’s important to look beyond simply what the object is. Rather, it’s important to look at the lifespan of the object. Where was it made and how? Did it travel and if so, where and how, and even how much would it have cost? Where did we find it, and how was it used there? Specifically, how did the object change throughout its journey, from production to its taphonomy, and what can this tell us about its cultural significance? Chris Gosden & Yvonne Marshall define the answer to these questions as the “use-life” of an artifact. When excavating, it’s extremely important to identify simply what an object is, but the real answers are revealed when we understand how an object is the way it is when we find it. This is called an object biography.

When a student spots a white shine in the site, it’s normally a piece of ceramic, which is a common find. She picks up the sherd and sees that it is a large, curved rim piece. Seeing this, she assumes this is a bowl. Turning it over reveals an intricate gray leafed and flowered pattern on what would be the outside of the vessel. Now the student will surely yell out for the others to look, and wait for the ensuing oohs and ahhs. We make some assumptions in the field, though in the laboratory, we can hope to answer more. Maybe it is possible to identify the maker of this pottery. We can ask, why is this piece here? Was it broken and thrown outside the cabin, or was it still in the cabin when it was destroyed. I often ask myself how the first Kenyon students could break and leave behind so much pottery, which is everywhere for us to find.

The questions become more interesting with the more bizarre finds. You can’t help but wonder about the story of the giant horse tooth you almost missed in the dirt, or the three large-herbivore rib bones stacked right on top of each other, deep in the soil, or even the tiny and intricate buttons that part of you wishes you could put in your pocket and sew onto a piece of your clothing later. These items are compelling, but without a focus on object biography, we wouldn’t be able to answer questions beyond simply identifying what object we have found. Student archaeologists at Kenyon enrolled in Campus Archaeology with the aim of digging, but now it is just as important that we wonder and ask questions about what we find, even if questions begin as simple as “now what could that be?”

Chris Gosden & Yvonne Marshall (1999) The cultural biography of objects, World Archaeology, 31:2, 169-178, DOI: 10.1080/00438243.1999.9980439