Are you familiar with the conference proceedings of the EXAR? That society started out as "Experimentelle Archäologie in Deutschland" and later proceeded to be "in Europa". The papers published in their yearly proceedings are mostly in German, but if you do read German, there's some very, very interesting pieces among them.

I've recently hunted for some specific papers and found that while the individual tables of contents of each volume are on the EXAR website, there's no overview. So I made up a pdf for the first batch (when the proceedings still had "in Deutschland" in their name) and a second one, with all the contents in one file.

Here they are: Inhalt "Experimentelle Archäologie in Deutschland Bilanz 1990-2002" and Inhalt "Experimentelle Archäologie in Europa Bilanz 2002-2014". Enjoy!

(By the way, I have a stack of these books twice. If you are interested, I'd be happy to sell them - just let me know which ones you're interested in!)

If you've heard one of my presentations about Experimental Archaeology, the chances are high that you have also heard me talk about what defines an archaeological experiment. ExpArch has become a buzzword in recent years, and the term has often been applied to things that are not real experimental archaeology - because it seems to sell well, or excite people, or those doing the description don't know better, or for whatever other reason(s).

Experiments in general are very clearly defined: They are a process that is designed specifically to answer a question. The experiment design has a very great influence on how much of an answer you get, and on how general the answer can be - if you are doing a chemical experiment with, say, helium, you cannot tell things about what would happen with oxygen, or hydrogen in place of the helium.

Experiments, to be called such, also have to be documented clearly, accurately and objectively enough to allow the experiment to be repeated - and the outcome, if things are done correctly in each instance of the experiment, should be the same or at least very similar. This means anybody can, theoretically, replicate a given published experiment to test the reliability of the experiment itself and the answers it gave.

Which means that a proper archaeological experiment needs to be objective, it has to be repeatable, has to be designed to answer a specific question, and the design of the actual process has to be suitable for this  answer - you cannot say something about oak working if you used beech, and you cannot say something about the suitability of old tools if you use modern ones. It also has to be documented accordingly. Everything else is not archaeological experiments - it can be tests of tools and techniques, or archaeotechnic, or playing around, or making replicas, but it's not an experiment.

Now, very obviously, as soon as you go into archaeology, things get a little messier than in a nice, clean chemistry lab or physics facility, where you have controlled environments, controlled substances, and measurable outcomes.

The materials for archaeological experiments are very often natural stuff - and there can be a huge difference between wood and wood, even if it's the same tree species. Plus there's the human factor - craft skills are an important factor, and they are hard to quantify. Many things are also subjective, such as the preference of one style of working over another, or one tool variant over another. Which means that "objective" will, in various instances, turn into "as objective as possible" and "repeatable" into "as repeatable as possible" - since you cannot use the same tree twice. (In some cases, modern stand-in materials can be used to get better repeatability. I've learned about experiments about flint-knapping, for instance, that use specifically made ceramic cores for knapping: similar characteristics for the breaking, and uniform without flaws.)

One of the key things to still get workable results is... documentation. There's no such thing as too much documentation! This is especially important when human factors come into play. It's also important to keep in mind that these human influences may be very significant, and to document (and describe, and publish) accordingly. Even if it's not a proper, full-fledged archaeological experiment, but someone or a group trying out techniques, good documentation of the tests can make a world of a difference when you are trying to make sense of things - or just trying to get an inkling about a single person's skill development.

A very good example of documentation for this can be found on Agata Ulanowska's site. She's lecturing in Warsaw and has been giving courses about old textile techniques for several years, teaching students how to do things like tablet-weaving. For those courses, she's giving out documentation sheets, making it possible to track the progress of each student as well as getting an overview about times for designing, weaving, and finishing projects. The sheets are downloadable from her page (scroll down to find them) - maybe they will be helpful for you as well!

I've barely started on the current big project, and first complications have already arisen, hooray - there is an issue with the fabrics I had planned to order. If I am lucky, I can get very similar replacements for them. If not... well. We shall see. At least it starts out quite, quite interesting.

There are bits and pieces I can get started on, though, and I am firmly planning to do so today, with just one single other point on my agenda.

(Sorry for the vagueness - if things work out, I'm planning to de-vague it soon, and you will be along for the ride.)

So while I'm feeling a little torn about how things will work, here are some scattered random links for you.

The Yarn Harlot writes about a baby sweater, and how only love could buy it. Yes. This. (Fits right in with the Fair Prices stuff that I blatantly plugged again yesterday.)

If you read German, Archaeologik posts about an excavation of a modern ceramic firing pit (pit was courtesy of a school project). If you don't read German, there's piccies.

Random fact of the day: I'm still doing yoga. My standard go-to site is doyogawithme.com, which I still highly recommend. There are pay-for sites that are by far not as nice as that one. And online yoga is a business with quite a bit of money to be made, as noticed by a company called YogaGlo... who have, apparently, patented a certain layout of the room for video classes.
This has led to hubbub and kerfluffle with the other yoga class sites, among them Yoga International. How is that interesting for you, you ask? Go read their open letter - and then you might want to enjoy their offer of all their classes for free (offer stands with undisclosed end time, but probably not forever).

Today it's time for me to rejoice - my article about the Spinning Experiment (yes, that one back from 2009) has been published in Archaeological and Anthropological Sciences. Here's the link.

It's not open access, since that requires the author (yes, the author) to pay a stupid amount of money which I can't afford (and even if I did, I would not since I am a strong believer in the Rule, or Yog's Law). I'd much prefer if it were free, or open access, or offered at an affordable price - but as things are, I am very happy to have the article out there, and published in a journal where it will be seen (and hopefully read) by a lot of people.

(If you would like to read the article, you may have access to it from a library computer if the library subscribes to the journal.)

Let's say you are thinking about running, or you are planning, an Archaeological Experiment. You have started with defining and phrasing your key question*, and you have done all the background research. Your outline is written and has been checked by someone else to help make sure that nothing is missing. You have made a list of the tools, materials, and other resources that you will need.

And now the actual experiment is drawing nearer and you have to prepare it. And do it. So here are the Rules for Experimental Archaeology...

Rule #1: Things always take longer than you expect.
This does not only apply to researching and writing the outline, but also to sourcing your tools and materials. And, of course, to the experiment run itself. Oh, did I forget the post-experiment analysis, synopsis, additional research and writing of the publication? That, too.
 
Rule #2: Something that you need is always missing.
If nothing is missing from the list you have written down beforehand, you will probably need something that was not on that list. Or you would have needed it twice and it's only available once. Or something is not working and therefore missing in regard to all practical purposes.

Rule #3: The only way to make sure things will not go wrong badly is by having enough surplus material available.
If you have just enough to make the experiment run... you are tempting fate. If something goes wrong and you lose some material, you will be right back at Rule #2, and in the worst case that will kill your whole experiment run.

Rule #4: You cannot document too much.
While having a huge load of photos and taking copious notes of everything (including subjective stuff) can be a real pain in the neck when finishing up the documentation and writing the paper, it's always easier to pick a sample of photos than do another run of the experiment because you lack documentation. Plus, in case of a repeat performance, one of those additional snapshots might be just the thing to remind you on how you did it last time... for example in case something is missing (remember?), and you have to find a substitute.

Rule #5: If you did not write it into your plan, chances are high you'll forget it.
Experiments tend to eat you alive, and they will suck up your brain capacity. It's even worse if you start the experiment run not really well rested (possibly due to Rule #1), or if it's a very long experiment (or becomes one because things take longer than planned), or a very complicated one. Thus it's immensely helpful to have a cheat-sheet, also known as The Plan, where you have written down all the single steps to do during the actual run, in order and with remarks of what you must document by taking measurements or photographs. A detailed plan is also a good way to make sure that everything is listed in your requirements list and a good way to estimate how long the single steps will take.

So... plan ahead, plan for more time and more material than you think you need, get someone (preferably with crafts knowledge in that area) or several someones to check your plan... and then go for it. Experimental Archaeology is a lovely thing to work in.


* If it has no key question that it's designed around, if it's not as objective as possible, or if it is not documented well enough to be repeatable, it's no archaeological experiment. It may be something else and it may be important or helpful... but no true experimental archaeology.

I have a hard time believing how time flies by - it seems just like yesterday that we left for our paddling holiday, and now it's weeks later and the Forum is almost upon us.

Time to take care of the last bits and pieces, which include the last bits of fine-tuning for the experiment that we have planned for this year. It's about Late Antique resist-dyed textiles... and among the things left to do is making a template for the application of the resist pastes we are planning to use. The materials, though, have not all arrived yet, a package seems to have gone astray. Which again proves Rule #1 for Experimental Archaeology: Things always take longer than you expect.*

That, and going through the whole thing together with Sabine who will take care of the actual dyeing process. We will dye using indigo - I'm really looking forward to that, I always love when fabric suddenly becomes blue!


* Rule #2, by the way, is Something that you need is always missing. Maybe I should do a whole post about the Rules...

One of the things I love about archaeology, and especially experimental archaeology, is how it keeps you on your toes and gets you to suddenly learn stuff about things you never tended to think about before.

As in - did you know that beeswax actually starts to melt at around 40°C, not the 60+ that are usually stated as its melting point? And that the temperature depends not only on the species of the bees and maybe their location, but also on who made the wax and how old it is? I learned about that yesterday. I was not as successful in finding out the melting point of natural pinus pinea resin, though (if you should have a helpful hint, I'd love to have it).

Today, I am trying to find out about the temperatures used in traditional batik techniques. Looks like they dye above the onset of melting of beeswax... and tomorrow, if everything goes according to plan, I will finish the thinking and planning and write down a plan to follow for the actual testing. There's a few sticky points still to solve - how to get the mixture out of the cloth again, how to make sure that everything is dyed at the same temperature but with no bad side effects from stuff touching, how to ensure an uniform temperature for the mixture application, and some more pesky details like that.

And now... on to more hunting of .pdfs, and finding out about melting points and possible sources and temperatures and processes. 

(For those of you who have not guessed it yet: It's all about the resist dye technique test runs at the Textile Forum.)