This week on the blog, we delve – or dive, even (sorry, I can already tell you that this post will be filled with water puns) – into the bitter waters of the 19th century, by which I mean mineral … Continue reading →
A report which details the archaeological investigations carried out during the course of SCIRT project 11185, water main renewal work on Manchester Street.
A report which details the archaeological investigations carried out during the course of SCIRT projects 11115 and 11159, wastewater renewal work and storm water repair work on Ferry Road.
Hello everyone! Belated happy new year and welcome back. We’ve decided to begin the year by talking about problems (just to start on a positive note). Well, sort of. We’re participating in an international round-up of blog posts this month … Continue reading →
The end of year is upon us again, and Underground Overground Archaeology is closing the boxes on our finds for the year. The year we finished up our Christmas party with a scavenger hunt around the central city using cryptic … Continue reading →
Who would have thought a Bin Inn could have such a sacred past? But as is usually the case with archaeology, once the layers are peeled back, an entirely different story starts unveiling itself. In its glory days this bargain … Continue reading →
Part the First Movember is upon us once again, and to celebrate Undershaved Overgrown Archaeology brings to you a brief history of facial hair in Aotearoa. Movember is all about men’s health, and we’ve previously covered health in the blog … Continue reading →
As a researcher for Underground Overground Archaeology, I spend my time searching written and visual sources for historical information on the sites the archaeologists are working on. The newspapers available on Papers Past are some of the best sources for rediscovering … Continue reading &...
Words. Words, words, words. Words[1]. We’ve been talking about words this week. Specifically, the words and phrases associated with archaeology (and heritage) in the public sphere that we – as a profession – can find problematic. Even more specifically, the … Continue reading &#...
Kia ora, Recently we had some great finds from Te Rae Kura/Redcliffs. Unbeknownst to many folks making their daily commute along the Port Hills’ Main Road, a nationally significant Māori archaeological site lies beneath their car wheels, capped by hard … Continue reading →
Presenting a selection of the aerated (or soda, if you prefer) water bottles that have surfaced so far on Christchurch archaeological sites. Brace yourselves: there may be water puns (although, honestly, most of the ones we could think of were simply too … Continue reading →
It is a well-known truth, in this office at least, that archaeology and whisky go well together. Or, perhaps more accurately, that archaeologists and whisky go well together. With a few exceptions (you know who you are, gin drinkers), it is … Continue reading →
Today I’m going to tell you about what is possibly my all-time favourite archaeological site (there is another contender, but it doesn’t have any connection to Christchurch or Canterbury so is unlikely to feature here). I reckon this site has … Continue reading →
In 1874 this modest two-storey farm house was built on the outskirts of Christchurch. It’s not the sort of house we normally see in Christchurch, in part because of its age, but also because it was built as a farm house, … Continue reading →
In this paper Paul Millar outlines the development of the University of Canterbury Quakebox project, a collaborative venture between the UC CEISMIC Canterbury Earthquakes Digital Archive and the New Zealand Institute of Language Brain and Behaviour to preserve people’s earthquake stories for the purposes of research, teaching and commemoration. The project collected over 700 stories on high definition video, and Millar is now looking at using the corpus to underpin a longitudinal study of post-quake experience.
We’ll never know why the thirteen people whose corpses were discovered in Pompeii’s Garden of the Fugitives hadn’t fled the city with the majority of the population when Vesuvius turned deadly in AD79. But surely, thanks to 21st century technology, we know just about everything there is to know about the experiences of the people who went through the Canterbury Earthquakes. Or has the ubiquity of digital technology, combined with seemingly massive online information flows and archives, created a false sense that Canterbury’s earthquake stories, images and media are being secured for posterity? In this paper Paul Millar makes reference to issues experienced while creating the CEISMIC Canterbury Earthquakes Digital Archive (www.ceismic.org.nz) to argue that rather than having preserved all the information needed to fully inform recovery, the record of the Canterbury earthquakes’ impacts, and the subsequent response, is incomplete and unrepresentative. While CEISMIC has collected and curated over a quarter of a million earthquake-related items, Millar is deeply concerned about the material being lost. Like Pompeii, this disaster has its nameless, faceless, silenced victims; people whose stories must be heard, and whose issues must be addressed, if recovery is to be meaningful.
This article discusses the use of radio after major earthquakes in Christchurch, New Zealand, in 2010 and 2011. It draws on archival sources to retrospectively research post-quake audiences in the terms people used during and soon after the earthquakes through personal narratives and Twitter. Retrospective narratives of earthquake experiences affirm the value of radio for communicating the scale of disaster and comforting listeners during dislocation from safe home spaces. In the narratives radio is often compared with television, which signifies electricity supply and associated comfort but also visually confirms the city’s destruction. Twitter provides insights into radio use from within the disaster period, but its more global reach facilitates reflection on online and international radio from outside the disaster-affected area. This research demonstrates the value of archival audience research, and finds that the combination of online radio and Twitter enables a new form of participatory disaster spectatorship from afar.