Building Museum, on the National Mall, threaded between parking meters and concrete flower boxes on the narrow streets of Ann Arbor? And why did people come from far and wide to donate their time and resources to
make these seemingly impossible events
happen? Why do so many continue to ask to join us in the growing story of this project, keeping the bumbling marvel of this enigma traveling along?
As the Executive Director of the organization that creates these projects, and frequently the project manager shouldering the unromantic work of making them happen, I often ask myself these very questions.
That is usually when someone like Sophie Linnell pauses from hewing a log to cross the sun- beaten jobsite – her blistered hands wrapped in athletic tape, her eyes glazed in sincere tears of awe – and takes my hands, looks me in the eye and says “Thank you.” Thank you for making this project possible.” Exchanges like these remind me that this work fulfills a need that exists perhaps outside the realm of reason. People show up, offering their hearts and hands to these events not for a job or a paycheck but for something perhaps as essential.
The Method
From its inception, Handshouse Studio has been guided by the robust imaginative vision of its co-founders. Started as an extension of courses taught at Massachusetts College of Art in Boston, sculpture faculty Rick and Laura Brown established the non-profit organization to enable their curiosity to extend beyond the
limitations of what a traditional classroom could offer, widely opening what their school’s curriculum and students could achieve together.
Handshouse Projects Start with an Object
Rather than offer a class about seventeenth century European history, for example, the Browns were known for posting a picture of an archival image of an esoteric object that most people would not be able to identify, asking the simple question “Want to build this?”
Students would line up to take these classes without any idea what they were signing up to make, let alone that it meant they would be researching seventeenth century Europe. With the goal of recreating a historic object together, participants were invited to ask simple questions: What is it? When and where was it made? With what tools and materials was it built?
We Ask Questions
Rick and Laura were not experts on the human-powered cranes of Europe, the gourd banjos of the Americas, the woven arch bridges of China, or any of the historic objects that appeared on their course posters. Rather than imparting knowledge via the standard hierarchical teacher-student relationship, leaders of Handshouse projects are part of the group, working side-by-side as collaborative learners. Everyone is encouraged to heed to the tug of their own curiosity, allowing folks to follow individual lines of inquiry into understanding the object and its context.
A sustained investigation toward the reconstruction of an object also permits us to venture into the mindset of its original makers through the process of the hand-in-action, empowering personal, tactile understanding of the object’s ingenuity and cultural significance. In this way, we even connect with fellow human beings across time, reawakening history and heritage that cannot otherwise be brought to life.
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