The Role of First-Person Interpretation

Photo Credit: Lee Winchester

First-person interpretation in a living-history context is when a reenactor adopts a specific persona and does not wander from it; they are that one person in that one year. Historic sites often use this method to make the site seem more "real" for the visitors. Or does it?

I was first inspired to write this post when I read the comments on a friend's Facebook posting. My friend tossed out a question as her status about what her friends felt was "the opposite of fun." One of the responses, from a teacher, was: "historical reenactors [when] I'm supposed to indulge their solo performance like it's normal. It gives me the WORST secondhand embarrassment of all time." What surprised me was not this comment but my lack of surprise at reading it.

What if most visitors really just get lost right from the beginning with the initial greeting from a first-person interpreter? Perhaps you've been to one of these historic sites or events--maybe you did first-person interpretation yourself. When the historical figure greeted the visitor ("Good day," "Madam," "Sir," etc.), how did the visitor react? In my experience, I've seen them hesitate, uncomfortably return the same reply, not respond while walking away, or sometimes just awkwardly reply "hi." Regardless of their response, they've almost always crept back within themselves, becoming more reluctant to respond for fear of "ruining the moment," answering in a way that is inappropriate to the period (i.e. using 21st century phrasing), or non-consentingly feeding a performance, as in the earlier example. So does first-person historical interpretation have a role in living history when the goal is education and visitor-involvement?

My personal philosophy at living history events is not to be in character while talking to the public. I want the spectators to be comfortable to the point that they will ask their own questions and actively learn. When put on the spot or compelled to partake in a performance unexpectedly, most people experience anxiety and embarrassment. If a spectator purchased a ticket to see a reenactment or visit a museum, they consented to a form of learning involving the receiving of information. What if you bought a ticket to see a movie, sat in your seat at the theater, began watching the film, and then suddenly the movie pauses and one of the actors greets you and expects you to respond in front of the audience without providing any context or information? It'd probably startle you and, being put on-the-spot, you might feel unsure of how to answer properly and perhaps a little embarrassed. But what if you knew this was going to happen?

Bridging the Gap

First-person interpretation has an important role in living history, but one that must be carefully instituted otherwise it would lose its raison d'etre. I believe that there are two main "disconnects" between spectators and first-person interpreters: understanding what is a "show" versus what is "interactive" and knowledge of history.

Photo Credt: Helen Wirka

To address the first: understanding what is a "show" and what is "interactive." I wonder if spectators would feel more comfortable if museums or historical sites prepared them in advance for first-person interpretation. Perhaps when advertising for an event, the historical site could promote it as "interactive." By listing it as such, it might allow the visitors to prepare themselves and to go in knowing that their participation is expected. That being said, many museum-goers are still accustomed to the "look but don't touch" mantra of the traditional museum. One possible way for spectators to voluntarily opt in to interacting would be if the historical site offered a sticker or similar object that would indicate that the visitor wearing it is willing and ready to participate. Those interested in the old-school museum/historical site experience can also enjoy the event, but in their own way and through observation.

The museum or historical site might also indicate "boundaries;" that is to say, when a spectator could interact with the living historians and when it would be inappropriate to. This might apply more to reenactments where battles or demonstrations are happening or at sites like Colonial Williamsburg where they put on reenactor-only performances.

As for the second disconnect--the lack of knowing what the reenactors know--perhaps museums or sites could distribute the information. When purchasing tickets, it might be helpful for the first-person interpretation site to offer the visitors a "conversation" card (example at left) that lists things most people would know at that time and place, talking-points about "current events," as well as common phrases. This wouldn't have to be complex, and indeed it should be simple, but it would help to bridge the anxiety and pressure that spectators often feel when not knowing how to participate.

To download a .pdf of this example I made using the Braddock Day event (at the Carlyle House in Alexandria, VA) as my inspiration, click here. If you would like the Word template I used for free, please send me a request using the "Contact Me" form on the right; I would love to see this used!

As a Reenactor

Photo Credit: Alexa Price

Now these ideas only apply to the historical sites, so how can an individual reenactor navigate through all this? As I mentioned before, I personally don't care to take on a first-person role. I feel that keeps the spectators at an arms-length away and it prevents me from using all my resources as a teacher. They tend to be shy and unsure of themselves (even if they really know the history) and while I can explain how to start a fire with flint and steel, I found that by connecting it to a modern lighter, spectators tend to relate more effectively. All of that being said, sometimes I do have to adopt a person for a special event. How can I also reach out to spectators and not alienate them?

The biggest take-away from this (as I might say to my students), is that if the person is unwilling to participate, then do not force them to. If the museum or historical site does not offer a way for spectators to opt-in or -out (like the aforementioned stickers), then it's on you to decide whom to interact with and when. Obviously, the best scenario is one in which the spectators start the conversation, but you can't always rely on that. You need to use your best judgement to determine who wants to engage in dialogue with you.

One of my favorite things to do is present an easy question that almost forces the spectator to agree with what will become my argument. "Bonjour madam. I am _____ sent here by the governor of Canada to seek justice. Tell me, do you agree that it was unjust that Washington killed a French ambassador in cold blood?" Of course the event surrounding the "Battle" of Jumoville's Glen was far more complicated, but if I'm a French officer trying to gain support for France, I'm going to manipulate the facts. Call it propaganda. Regardless, I usually get a "yes." That's all I need. I greeted the visitor, didn't stand there awkwardly waiting for an embarrassed reply, but went right into my question. I put the effort of starting a dialogue in my hands, since I was prepared for this whole event and she wasn't. I also purposefully asked a question that was void of many facts and provided my own information (propaganda). She didn't need to know any background information (and I was kind of counting on it). I then immediately follow-up with a brief background on why I'm here, provide a little more specific information and ask a follow-up question that's purely opinion-based and gets the spectator thinking about the current issues.

This manner of interacting with the public is different than what I wrote in a previous post about engaging spectators. When doing first-person interpretation, you can't link modern things, people, or events to what you're doing; that would be anachronistic. Instead, the greatest tool in your kit is your--and their--humanity. Human traits like greed, lust, survival, and pride are present in most historical events. If you can't be a 21st century person in period clothes, then your best option for staying in character while interacting with 21st century spectators is to appeal to their humanity.

So my suggestion, as a living historian, who wants to engage spectators while doing first-person interpretation is to:

1. Decide what human trait you plan to hook the spectators with when you begin your conversation. Are you going to emphasize survival at your frontier fort/town? Are you going to emphasize honor in your military cause? How about pride in the family you've started?
2. Greet them (this notifies them that it's time to interact) and immediately provide some context (don't wait for them to respond to your greeting).
3. Ask an opinion-based question that does not require any background knowledge but works with your earlier-chosen human trait.
4. Following their answer, feed them more information and be slightly more specific.
5. Ask them more opinion-based questions about what you just told them. If you're really good, this is when you can get a feel for what really interests them and where you can turn to next in your conversation.

One way that I've seen go wrong (unbeknownst to the sites) is when two reenactors debate each other and then turn to individuals in the crowd and demand their opinion (usually looking for support). While I admire the idea and know that this works very well in a classroom, as a reenactor who doesn't have a whole year to establish a comfortable learning environment, this is not the best plan. When asked to join in an active argument, most spectators shut down or are hesitant to participate, lest they get something wrong or offend the other character. You'll occasionally see someone--like at the Salem Witch Museum--shouting "burn her!" but that is a rare customer. By creating a performance and demanding participation at the end, the switch from "observation" to "interaction" is too quick for comfort and results in the example I mentioned at the very beginning of this post: embarrassment. If you're trying to get them involved, you're more apt to confuse them and make them anxious. It's much clearer to the public if you leave the performance as an "observe" experience. Perhaps the reenactors can then separate after the performance and interact with the public as previously mentioned.

Before you participate in any event, think to yourself: why am I doing this? If it's for the public (some events are not), then determine what you want the spectators to get out of it and which approach will be the most successful: first- or third-person interpretation. Regardless of what you choose, just remember that you're a teacher, whether you acknowledge it or not.


Upcoming Topics:

• 1710s Kit: Part 2
• "A doublet of fustian... and breeches of canvas"
• Camp Diversions