Abstract
Digital archives change more quickly than traditional ones: they are adaptable
and transient. This has advantages and disadvantages; digital archives can
disappear from sight almost instantly but they can also be easily safeguarded
and restored. Borrowing the critical vocabulary of performance studies, digital
archives could thus be understood as “repertoires” rather than traditional
archives. By treating digital archives as repertoires, this article explores
different threats and opportunities presented by their volatile nature and makes
policy and technical recommendations on how to ensure their relevance and
sustainability.
Introduction
“At the moment this archive is only a prototype, but we will soon have a
public version available online.” I have heard – and pronounced –
these words in several occasions in digital humanities conferences and
presentations. Everyone seems to be building an archive, but these projects are
often archives in progress. And the most established archives also change often:
new versions, features and editions are constantly added. When you visit the
website of many archives, it is common to find features that are “not yet”
working or to read in the history of the archives about aspects of the archive
that were present in previous iterations of the projects.
It is easy to condemn this situation. Traditional archivists could assert that
digital archives are not really built to endure the passage of time and
constitute a repository for future historical research. Therefore, the argument
goes, digital archives are not really archives. However, comparing digital with
non-digital archives obviates many of the specific ways in which digital
archives can be relevant and sustainable, two important objectives of every
archiving project. There are two complicating factors to an easy comparison with
non-digital archives:
- The mutability of digital archives is complex.
- The lifespan of a digital archive is indeterminate. Any iteration of the
archive can disappear quickly, but it can also be reconstructed in ways that
are difficult – if not impossible – with brick and mortar archives.
This article proposes to address these complications through the theoretical lens
of performance studies, a discipline that has long engaged in the theorization
of archives. In performance studies, the opposite of an archive is a repertoire.
And though there are fundamental differences between digital archives and
embodied performance repertoires, there are also striking similarities between
them. Looking at the way performance scholars conceptualize and study
repertoires, digital humanists can gain a strategic new vocabulary to describe
how digital archives work and, most importantly, think about ways to upkeep and
maintain the relevance of archives in the future. Before launching into a
performance studies approach, this article will briefly consider how the
differences between between digital and traditional archives have been
conceptualized earlier. This is a long and complex discussion, but several key
issues are constantly highlighted in the conceptualization of digital archives:
the possibility of new methodological approaches, the threat of the
disappearance of context, the new need for new technical models, the competing
claims of access and preservation, and the suitability of the word
“archive.”
Much has been said about the capacity for search-and-retrieve and data mining
operations allowed by digital archives. One of the key areas where these
techniques are already making great an impact is newspaper archives and the
historical research they enable. Newspaper archives are unique because of the
periodicity, abundance, and uniformity of their records; thus, they provide us
with an excellent case study for the impact of new methodologies for archival
research. According to Bob Nicholson, who writes about the impact of digital
archives in the study of newspapers, everything has been changed by
search-and-retrieve as well as data-mining algorithms which could not have been
applied to physical newspaper collections. New technologies are affecting a
broad range of questions, whether it is to study the lives of individuals,
explore changes in the usage of language, track the development and circulation
of ideas, or write the history of a serialized publication:
Digital methodologies promise to
have a significant impact on multiple areas of historical research. We
are potentially on the cusp of a [...] revolution, a ‘digital turn’ in
humanities scholarship driven by the creative use of online archives and
a willingness to imagine new kinds of research.
[Nicholson 2013, 63]
Archives dealing with literature, theatre and other arts are usually not as
uniform or as extensive as newspaper archives. Nevertheless, different ways of
interrogating archives are also changing the ways all kinds of digital archives
are conceptualized and used. Another concern often brought up in discussions
about digital archives is the disappearance of context. Discussing 19th century
newspaper and literature archives, Shafquat Towheed remarks that the context of
reading was different in the 19th century and the specificity of reading is
difficult to reconstruct from digital collections, since they generally lack
annotations and marginalia. Another problems is that items are not bundled
together, which makes the practice of browsing through the materials cumbersome:
Paradoxically, while the
digitization of nineteenth-century newspapers means that they have never
been more widely available, the very experience of casually browsing
through the pages of an essentially disposable publication has become
increasingly remote and difficult to reconstruct.
[Towheed 2010, 142]
Computer scientists are also trying to come to grips with the different
conceptual model required by digital archives, as opposed to that of digital
libraries or other kinds of collections. Following Stefano Vitali, Nicola Ferro
and Ginamaria Silvelo suggest that the most distinctive characteristic of
digital archives is that they are held together by an
archival
bond: there is a specific, homogeneous and often serialized way in which
items in a collection are organized and related to one another. Ferro and
Silvelo propose a formal model to address these issues, NEsted SeTs for Object
hieRarchies (NESTOR) [
Ferro and Silvelo, 2013]. However, the development of
information organization models is still an open question and there are
currently no standards to be widely adopted.
Another challenge of digital archives refers to the competing claims of access
and preservation. Should an archive emphasize the widest range of materials
possible? Or should it make sure that a smaller collection is properly
documented, annotated, and made accessible to non-specialists? Different
archives have different philosophies on this matter, but, as Michelle Warren
notes, every cultural record, including books, is shaped by this competing
claims:
The effort to preserve and the
desire for access have both changed the text now recorded. Together,
preservation and access make archives malleable and dynamic rather than
static.
[Warren 2014, 170]
Another key concern is the suitability of the word
archive. Kenneth
M. Price looks at different words that are used in digital humanities work:
edition, project, database, archive, and thematic research collection, before
suggesting a new potential term: arsenal. When discussing all of these terms, he
stresses the importance of the choice of words and also notes the advantages and
limitations of all the possible choices. His characterization of digital
archives is particularly insightful:
In a digital environment, archive
has gradually come to mean a purposeful collection of surrogates. As we
know, meanings change over time, and archive in a digital context has
come to suggest something that blends features of editing and archiving.
To meld features of both — to have the care of treatment and annotation
of an edition and the inclusiveness of an archive — is one of the
tendencies of recent work in electronic editing.
[Price 2009]
Whether or not another word becomes more common in the future, archive is the
currently the most common term to describe the digital artifacts I have in mind.
This is perhaps how most projects address the competing claims of access and
preservation.
The previous overview has shown some of the main concerns and anxieties relating
to digital archiving: access and preservation, methodological implications for
research, formal computer-science models, the disappearance of context, and the
suitability of the word archive.
In the rest of this article I will use terms prevalent in performance studies –
and suggest new concepts – that can help us understand the constraints and
possibilities of digital archiving. All of the issues mentioned above can be
traced to the dynamic, changing nature of archives. Although this dynamism is
often mentioned, I argue that the particular way in which digital archives are
dynamic demands further attention. Based on the terminology of theatre studies
and my own experiences working with digital archives, I propose two new terms:
internal dynamism and external dynamism in order
to qualify the ways that digital archives change.
This article is organized as follows: the first section offers a definition of
archives and repertoires from performance studies and explains why digital
archives can be studied and managed as repertoires. The second and third part
look at the internal and external adaptability of archives. The last two
sections offer recommendations on how digital archives can be better managed to
ensure sustainability and relevance. For this, the article borrows tropes and
techniques from the open-source software development culture.
The conceptual tools of performance studies
Having described the complex nature of digital archives, I suggest that
performance studies can offer a new way of understanding the connection between
archives, memory and knowledge. Performance studies conceptualize archives in
two major ways: as a metaphor and as a problematic source of historical
knowledge about performance practices. Metaphorically, the archive represents
the way in which certain theater makers work. For example, Mike Frangos argues
that Samuel Beckett's plays are archival in the sense that they enact, in form
as well as in content, the main concerns of archiving: historicity, repetition,
memory, and erasure [
Frangos 2012, 217]. This claim is
similar to that of Kenneth M. Price, who argues that the work of Walt Whitman
was developed, metaphorically, as a database. Whitman constantly republished
Leaves of Grass, rearranging verses drawn from a vast personal repository: “his storehouse of poetic lines, in
both manuscript and print, was his working database for future
compositions”
[
Price 2009].
The archive can also be a metaphor that stands in for
any theatre
performance. In this sense, theatre is always a living, evolving archive where
things are changed as they are stored and retrieved. Marvin Carlson describes
theatre as a place where
ghosting occurs. By this he means that
everything in the theatre has been “used before”. The same bodies of the
actors have interpreted other roles, the same words have been spoken and the
same objects have been used to convey other meanings [
Carlson 2003]. Following the example of theatre studies, every aspect of cultural
production – anything and everything in a digital humanities archive – could be
understood in terms of archival metaphors and ghosting. As Jones et al. assert:
Arguably, all archiving is
performance: records are surrogates that provide a window onto past
moments that can never be recreated, and users interact with these
records in a performance to reinterpret this past.
[Jones et al. 2009, 166]
However, a more interesting avenue comes from the second conceptualization of
archiving in performance studies, where archives – in a more conventional sense
of the word – are seen as the problematic repositories of theatrical items:
photographs, booklets, recordings, technical scripts, and interviews. Whether
these items are ephemera or documentation records, they are problematic in the
sense that they are
not performances. A film archive will contain
the films, and a literary archive will contain manuscripts. But a theatre
archive will never contain theatre performances. Theorists of theatrical
archiving have thus always dealt with a pressing concern of digital archives:
the fact that the items in a collection are not the “real” things but mere
surrogates, data, and traces. Peggy Phelan has famously argued that “performance becomes itself through
disappearance” and that the records of a performance can never be
equivalent to the performance itself:
Performance's only life is in the
present. Performance cannot be saved, recorded, documented, or otherwise
participate in the circulation of representations of
representations: once it does so, it becomes something other than
performance. To the degree that performance attempts to enter the
economy of reproduction it betrays and lessens the promise of its own
ontology.
[Phelan 1993, 146]
This argument has been contested by Phillip Auslander, who argues that
performance and meditaized recordings cannot be distinguished on an ontological
basis:
Mediatized forms like film and
video can be shown to have the same ontological characteristic as live
performance, and live performance can be used in ways indistinguishable
from the uses generally associated with mediatized forms. Therefore,
ontological analysis does not provide a basis for privileging live
performance as an oppositional discourse.
[Auslander 1999, 184]
In her 2010 book on Cyborg Performance, Jennifer Parker-Starbuck historicizes
this controversy and labels it a “dated”
disagreement, suggesting that history has sided with Auslander and confessing to
a “tacit acceptance of Auslander's
argument” that the live is already mediatized “in the contemporary
moment of globalized technology”
[
Parker-Starbuck 2011, 9]. Nevertheless, the argument brought forth by Phelan still stands and
should still be relevant to digital archivists. Even if the “mediatized” is
now irremediably part of the “live”, there is still an ontological
difference between a live performance and a record of that performance. This
difference might not grant a political superiority to one of them (as Phelan
expected), but it should still inform the efforts of digital archivists. It is
important for us to recognize the differences between the digital surrogates in
an archive and the original sources. This necessarily calls for specific
practices of contextualization, such as explaining how the records were made and
what gaps are present in a documentation project.
The theatrical archive is also problematic because it stands in opposition to
another mode of transmission through time and space, the repertoire. The
repertoire is an archive of the body and of oral knowledge. The differences
betweens both modes of transmission have been thoroughly explored by Diana
Taylor in the landmark
The Archive and the
Repertoire. Consider, for example, the way in which she describes
archival memory:
Archival memory works across
distance, over time and space […] what changes over time is the value,
meaning or relevance of the archive. Insofar as it constitutes materials
that seem to endure, the archive exceeds the live.
[Taylor 2003, 19]
This kind of memory is set in opposition to the one enabled by the repertoire:
The repertoire, on the other hand,
enacts embodied memory: performances, gestures, orality, movement,
dance, singing - in short, all those acts often thought of as ephemeral,
non-reproducible knowledge. The repertoire requires presence; people
participate in the production and reproduction of knowledge by “being
there”, being a part of the transmission [...] The repertoire
both keeps and transforms choreographies of meaning.
[Taylor 2003, 20]
In terms of what they hold – materials that are meant to endure distance in time
and space – digital archives are no different from conventional ones. However,
as Jones et al. notice, code-based archiving does require interaction and the
presence of the users:
Digital records are inherently
performative, only coming into existence when the correct code executes
the data to render a meaningful output.
[Jones et al. 2009, 170]
However, despite the performative aspect of the computer code they are built
upon, digital archives don't embody ephemeral knowledge that requires
co-presence. They require interaction but not the embodied co-presence of
producers and consumers of meaning. Digital archives do behave as repertoires in
that they are constantly evolving and they also keep and transform “choreographies of meaning”, in Taylor's
evocative phrasing. This article suggests that there are two ways in which this
similarity with repertoires is manifested: constant change that is driven by
improvisation and the possibility of embedding the items of the repertoire in
entirely new settings.
In what follows I suggest that the first of these characteristics is equivalent
to the “continuous beta” status of many digital archives; and the second,
to the potential to embed archival content in new settings through iframes and
APIs.
[1] These characteristics correspond to two kinds
of dynamism, which I propose to call
internal and
external. Internal dynamism is the capacity of a repertoire or
digital archive to change constantly, as result of interactions, changes in the
people working on it, and the conditions affecting audiences and funding. The
external dynamism refers to the fact that the same material can be presented in
a variety of settings. For example, the same performance could be presented as a
ritual and as an international entertainment in different stages, as it happens
with some Balinese dance performances. In the case of a digital archive, the
same content could be presented on its website, or, if the encoded XML is
downloaded or served by an API, under a different interface. I use the term
dynamism in the following sections, but this term could also be
considered as
instability or
adaptability, depending
on whether we want to emphasize the positive or the negative aspects of this
constant change. Dynamism is not necessarily more neutral, but it is a common
term and I will use it to stress both the positive and negative aspects of this
propensity to change.
Internal Dynamism
Like performance repertoires, digital archives are constantly in flux. In the
case of performances, they often change because of generational relief, changes
in sociocultural conditions and in the economic forces behind sponsorship and
patronage [
Hughes-Freeland 2008]. For example, Balinese dances
used to be primarily ritual affairs, but the dance has been modified by the
influx of foreign artists and tourists. The
kecak dance, now undeniably part of the repertoire learned by
dancers and presented to local and foreign audiences, was partially developed by
German visual artist Walter Spies [
Seputtat 2012]. In digital
archives, we can identify the following reasons for constant change:
- Digital platforms encourage experimentation and
facilitate changing design decisions. Due to what Lev Manovich terms
modularity, making design decisions is sometimes relatively
straightforward [Manovich 2001].[2] The use of semantic styling techniques (such
as SASS) for web design allows simple changes to be instantly applied to the
entire website.[3]
The look and feel can be constantly changed and updated and small
improvements can be constantly added, or bugs fixed. However, due to the
same modularity, sometimes details that would seem insignificant are indeed
very difficult to correct and this can send the archives crashing. For
example, changing the font and color and visual scheme of the entire website
is surprisingly easy. However, as we found out working on the Asian
Shakespeare Intercultural Archive (A|S|IA), ensuring a consistent
integration of buttons and labels across different language scripts, such as
Korean and Chinese, is a painstaking process.[4]
- New rounds of funding. Sometimes specific funding is
available. For example, a funding body might offer a grant to develop an
educational platform for an archive. Or, in order to justify a new round of
funding, teams also propose fundamental changes to the design, scope, or
conceptualization of an archive. Funding also means that archives are only
kept for a limited time. Few archives are funded for an indeterminate amount
of time, and often archival projects are dated, constrained to the duration
of a grant.
- The teams change, bringing and removing interests and
expertise. Often the archives are not impersonal, but highly
modified by the interests of the participants. In the archival team where I
work, the areas we work on are motivated by the expertise of the makers:
Shakespearean performances in Asia, networks of theatrical production in
Southeast Asia, and contemporary adaptations of wayang kulit in Indonesia.[5]
- Practice-based approaches. People are constantly
experimenting, playing with and hacking archives. As Michelle Warren notes,
digital archives are often developed through hacking, or playful
experimentation [Warren 2014, 170]. This cannot be done
with conventional archives.
- Changes in technical needs and platforms. This is
often referred to as the treadmill effect, where you need to
run just to stay in place. In a 2004 book chapter on design and usability,
Matthew Kirschenbaum predicted that Flash would take over many aspects of
web design, making websites more dynamic and interactive [Kirschenbaum 2004, 533]. The irony is that he was right,
but his prediction is now obsolete, only a decade later. Flash dramatically
altered the content of the web but many projects are currently moving out of
Flash and into JavaScript since Flash is heavy, does not scale well, and is
difficult to adapt to responsive environments.[6] This is just an
example of the rapid technological change that archival projects need to
cope with.
- User feedback. It is easier to collect information on
how and why people are using the archive and do this in real time. Archival
teams can easily find out patterns of usage or collect information that can
inform design decisions.
Brick and mortar archives are also in flux, but in a different way and at a
slower pace. A radical change would override or erase previous iterations of a
traditional archive. There is also less experimentation and “hacking” in
the development of traditional archives and the disappearance of traditional
archives can be more definite than that of digital ones. A digital archive can
be reconstructed, if it is properly documented (more about this later, in the
recommendations). A brick and mortar archive, by contrast, often disappears in
dramatic ways. A tragic example of this was the destruction of the Cologne city
archives, the result of a structural collapse where two people lost their lives
in March 3, 2009 [
Curry 2009]. It is estimated that 90% of the
municipal archives of the City of Cologne, which date back to the middle ages,
were destroyed by a collapse that was likely caused by the construction of a new
subway station in the neighborhood. And, as a counter example, we can find the
digital data stored in the hard drives destroyed by another tragic event, the
9/11 attacks. As Matthew Kirschenbaum notes, a German firm was able to restore
the data from the ruins of the collapsed buildings [
Kirschenbaum 2008, xii].
When traditional archives disappear, all is lost. This is also often the case for
digital archives. However, in some cases, the archives merely become
inaccessible or, in Tim Maly’s term, they become “dark archives.” A dark archive is a collection
of materials that exists but is unavailable for general access [
Maly 2013]. Crucially, though, digital archives can move in and
out of this darkness, they can be kept alive and represented.
External dynamism
The previous section detailed the internal dynamism of archives, but we can also
consider archives' potential for “external” change. Digital archives can be
embedded in a different environment. This is almost impossible to do with a
brick and mortar archive. But sections, or the entirety of an archive, can be
reconstructed in an entirely different situation.
An item from a repertoire can easily be re-purposed for a different setting.
British director Peter Brook, for instance, recounts an instance where the same
performance of
ta'ziyah in Iran took on
completely different meanings, depending on whether it was performed at a
village or at an international festival venue [
Brook 1968, 16–18]. In digital archives, this capacity for the same content to be
presented in different contexts is exacerbated by the quality of new media that
Lev Manovich identifies as transcoding. This means that media can be
transformed, converted, remixed, and inserted into other contexts [
Manovich 2001, 45–47].
Following the properties of new media, digital archives can be reinserted,
manipulated, and changed according to interactions with the users. There are two
ways in which this external dynamism is presented:
- Interactivity. A digital archive can react to the
user in extremely dynamic ways. Depending on how the archive is created, a
user can effectively create her own sub-selection of archive materials. For
example, the A|S|I|A website allows users to bookmark portions of any video
and create their own annotated collection of video clips.
- Extensibility. Many archives also allow users to
reuse the contents of the archive in another setting. The Perseus Digital
Library, for instance, allows users to download XML encoded version of all
its documents.[7] Some video
archives, following YouTube, allow users to embed items from their
collections in other websites. In the Contemporary Wayang Archive (CWA), we
are developing a function to allow exactly this. Users will be able to
bookmark any section of any of the videos and then embed this (via an
iframe) into any other website.[8] Along the
same lines, APIs could easily be developed to allow users to transform and
re-purpose any aspect of the collection in ways not foreseen by the creators
of the archive. The Indonesian Cultural Archive Network (JABN – Jaringan
Arsip Budaya Nusantara) launches annual calls for institutions and archives
to re-utilize the materials of the five archives that constitute the
network. For example, people have used the digital texts as parts of live
performances.[9]
So far, this article has explored how the conceptualization of archives in
performance studies can help theorize issues that arise from digital archiving.
Two new concepts, internal and external dynamism, have also been proposed to
offer a more granular vocabulary to describe transience in digital archives. The
next two sections look at the ways that practices from open source communities
can help maintain the relevance and sustainability of digital archives. Based on
the characteristics of digital archives outlined here, I have two concrete
recommendations to make on how to ensure the continuity of archives, harnessing
and curving their extremely unstable nature: aiming for well documented open
source development, and implementing version control systems.
Recommendation 1: Aim for (future) well documented, open source
development.
In the film
Samsara (2011, dir. Pan Nalin), a
character is puzzled by the question “how do you prevent a drop of water from drying
up?” The answer, learned after long travails, is easy, beautiful,
and difficultly counter-intuitive: “By throwing it into the sea.” Although
there are several problems to the applicability of this philosophy to
digital archiving, it does seem that opening up the source code and sharing
the collection is the best way to ensure two things: the archives'
continuity in many different platforms and the possibility of
“reconstructing” the archives later, in other platforms. The LOCKSS
acronym – Lots of Copies Keep Stuff Safe – is well known in the computer
world [
D'Iorio and Barbera 2011, 66].
[10]
Ensuring that many places can legally posses copies of the source code will
make the code survive. This might seem like a Faustian bargain to some, but
openly sharing is the best safeguard against the disappearance of digital
archives.
The reconstruction of the archive is another matter. As game studies
historians will know, poorly document code is one of the main problems of
trying to resurrect videogames written in languages no longer used or for
platforms and consoles now obsolete. If all the source code is stashed away,
there is no way of reconstructing it for later use; it is just trapped in a
black box, becoming one of the dark archives mentioned by Taly. In my
experience, and through conversations with colleagues, this is a difficult
goal to achieve. Several problems stand in the way of ensuring open-source
development.
- Lack of understanding of open source. Often
people are insufficiently aware of the numerous licenses and processes
of open source. They fear this will compromise the security or ownership
claims of projects.[11]
- Funding bodies will often not understand or allow
this. In some cases there is the pressure to develop
proprietary software solutions.
- The code is often developed by third-party
companies. It is not in their interest to share their
code.
I understand it would be difficult to make things immediately accessible and
shareable. But there is a workaround: make an agreement for a future
disclosure of the open source. Negotiating a time acceptable to all parties,
the archives' code base could eventually become freely accessible to all.
Funding bodies could also help by encouraging or even demanding this option
for projects that are only funded for a few years.
An important objective for archive makers would be to also lobby or convince
funding bodies of the importance of encouraging or supporting the (eventual)
documentation of digital archives through open source mechanisms.
Recommendation 2: Version Control Everything.
How do we keep an inventory of what has gone before, of previous iterations
of the archive? Often changes are made, but nobody knows about them or where
they have gone. Files are overwritten or named in abstruse ways so that it
is painstaking, if not impossible, to reconstruct a previous iteration of an
archive. Version Control Systems (VCS) allow for creating “releases”
where a particular version of the project can be fully reconstructed. This
can be done in any VCS, but an obvious choice is git, which is free and
often used by the open-source community.
[12]
The advantage of version control is that it is inexpensive to reconstruct any
previous iteration in the way that it was working earlier. This has the
advantage that other people can learn form it. But also it is a reaction
against the problem of constant change. It might be interesting for
academic, historical, or pedagogical reasons to look back at the previous
version of any given archive. Of course, both recommendations are related.
It is easy to use a version control system such as git, which can be used in
different platforms, to share open source projects.
CONCLUSION
Digital archives are subject to two kinds of adaptability: internal and external.
In this they are similar to repertoires, which also change constantly through
time and must be adapted to ever-changing circumstances. Performance studies can
provide digital humanists with additional vocabulary to explore these
characteristics. And the open source community can furnish us with tools and
techniques in order to make the most of the repertoire qualities of digital
archives.
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