Down on the farm

Many of you will no doubt already know that it was Open Farm Sunday yesterday. Along with friends and family I made a somewhat last minute plan to visit one of the places participating in this scheme. The site in question was Sandy Lane Farm, near Tiddington, Oxfordshire. Here we enjoyed a tour by tractor and a series of talks delivered by the farmer, Charles Bennett, as well as indulging in the obligatory cup of tea and slice of cake. There was also much more on offer and, all in all, our visit provided us not only with a great afternoon’s entertainment but also proved to be highly informative.

Charles Bennett explains his potato crop

Charles Bennett explains his potato crop

It struck me during the afternoon that there is really no substitute for a genuine ‘onsite’ sense of place. In other words, for me at least, being ‘in’ a place is always going to be more powerful and enlightening than being at a remove. Even the very best interpretation in the world cannot replace the multi-sensory feeling and direct material engagement of actually being there, in a place where rural lives both did and still do play out. In a similar and more obvious vein, a muddy and oily Ferguson tractor that kids can clamber on and pretend to drive is always going to win out over the sanitised but sacrosanct TE20 that we have on display at MERL. On the flip side of this, jumping around in the hay – as my kids and those of my friends did yesterday – is not going to explain how meadows were managed in the past, or enlighten them as to the people or technologies involved in hay production past or present. It takes intervention and an interpretive voice, whether this be the onsite words of the farmer or the gallery-based musings of a curator.

Jumping in the hay

Playing in the hay at Sandy Lane Farm

Simple as these observations may seem, I think they raise significant questions for museums, most of whose collections are inherently connected with a whole series of other places. So, the next step on from this Project and its process of re-connecting museum-held things to original contexts of manufacture, use, and collection has to be one of deepening contextualisation. It has to be a process of engagement with the people now in (or once from)  these original contexts. It has to be a process of reaching out to the rural people whose heritage is housed and represented in the Museum. It has to be an invitation to members of these ‘source communities’ to help MERL (and by proxy the wider public) to better understand the rich depth and complexity of rural history as a whole. It has to deliver inventive and creative mechanisms through which to communciate how the seemingly static holdings of the gallery and store actually connect to a whole host of dynamic and vibrant external sites and places, where rural life continues apace.

Thanks to all at Sandy Lane Farm for a great day out and a very nice cup of tea, for giving me food for thought and a fun way to exacerbate my hayfever (yes, I am a farmer’s son who suffers from hayfever!). Oh, and I checked the database and MERL has only one artefact from Tiddington, this being a type of chain used to hold restless cattle that dates to the mid-19th century. Mr and Mrs Bennett and their family appeared to dabble in farming pretty much everything but cattle. However, I still think it would still be interesting to hear what their thoughts are on this object and on the ways in which life in Tiddington has changed since the 1840s when this object was made, the interwar period when it was first acquired by H. J. Massingham, and 1951 when it came to Reading.

3 thoughts on “Down on the farm

    • Hi Monica. You’ve got me there… I think we probably had two cups of tea as well. Good fun however many it was!

  1. I have just read your contribution ‘sense of place’, whilst adding a comment to the Facebook page of Sandy Lane Farm, Tiddington (as a regular customer of their produce).
    As a London child I spent a year living on a farm on Anglesey whilst my father was stationed there in 1944 and the experience coloured my future life. There was no lighting but oil lamps and candles, no water except that which could be carried in a bucket from a spring 2 fields away. A pony and trap was used for visiting the nearest village for coal and provisions such as tea. A cold side room was the dairy where Welsh (i.e very salty) butter was churned. Rats has to be regularly chased from the wide cream bowl. Cows gave birth in the fields; there were pigs, ducks, chickens and geese. I can’t remember sheep. I imagine it had hardly changed since the turn of the century except there was no hired labour. Everything was done by the family of grand mother ( who always carried the keys to (what/where, never found out…in a bunch on a chain round her waist), wife and two sons. Husband worked for the Milk Marketing Board during the war
    A museum could house the tractor, the trap, the churn but what sticks in the memory is the actual using of these things. The experience of hand milking, catching the pony, collecting the eggs from wherever the hens had hidden them…always under gorse bushes.
    Escaping the London blitz proved an unforgettable experience in a rural world which was out of date even then. ….

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