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To Illuminate History: Making History Picture-Perfect
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by Robert Blackey
California State University, San Bernardino
San Bernardino, California
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| | Working with Images in the Classroom
Teaching can be improved dramatically if we use images creatively and in a way that was not possible until recently. As a student, I was fortunate to be in the classrooms of several extraordinary teachers who inspired with their words, stories, and insights, but I had to use my imagination to supply the visual content inherent in what they said, much as I did when reading. This was not a bad thing; I eventually wondered, however, whether it was something to build upon, not be satisfied with. At the start of my teaching career, several decades ago, I launched a collection of history-related cartoons to circulate in class -- for both their perspective and the light touch they provided -- and, almost immediately thereafter, I began to include occasional pictures from books and other sources. I also made use of art slides and others from my travels to historic places. But passing materials among students sometimes distracted as much as enlightened, and by the time everyone had a chance to examine a given image, the class was usually onto another topic. And using slides served -- and sometimes still serves -- a purpose, but mostly as separate and distinct presentations. In contrast, transparencies and PowerPoint give teachers greater flexibility.1 What I want to suggest here, however, might very well be perceived as a more imaginative and educational way to employ these images or what can be called "Illuminated Teaching, Learning, and Understanding."
Using Technology to Improve Teaching
Textbooks include illustrations, as do some monographs and other histories, but never enough of them and hardly ever more than one on a given subject. Yet modern technology has made it possible for teachers to find and employ visual images in class in creative ways that both illuminate history and enhance our educational goals; by involving students -- by asking them to describe what they see, by asking questions of the materials we show, by introducing them to the intellectual possibilities inherent in many images -- we have the potential to improve their communication skills and their critical thinking abilities. Scanning paintings, photographs, drawings, maps, and cartoons (political and otherwise) into our computers and downloading them from Web sites gives us access to an almost unlimited variety of images -- sometimes in concert with music, poetry, literature, and film clips -- that we can then use to bring the past to life in ways not possible earlier. What follows are a number of examples taken from the courses I teach (European, English, and world history) that, I hope, will inspire other teaching historians to follow suit.
Perhaps here I should stress my belief in the power of visual images to enhance the spoken word. Students today are especially visual, and what we enable them to actually see, coupled with our descriptions and questions to draw them further into the subject matter, helps to develop their skills to think historically. Thus I employ the verb "to illuminate" in the title to suggest not merely "to illustrate" but "to shed light on" as well. Further, it is not merely the use of images that I advocate here but the use of sequences of images (potentially in conjunction with other means of learning). This is what is novel; this is what stimulates students through several of their senses; this is what has the potential to engage more of them more effectively.
Studying the History of the Renaissance
Art and architecture play a prominent role when my class examines the Pazzi Conspiracy of 1478, a plot to kill Lorenzo de Medici. The plot is an example of the violent nature of the political side of the cultural center that was Florence, and it reveals why princes (or despots) needed the tacit consent of citizens in order to rule. The conspiracy was hatched by a rival business family, the Pazzi, and had the support of Pope Sixtus IV (after whom the Sistene Chapel would be named). Ironically, the attack came while Lorenzo and his brother Giuliani were attending Mass in the recently completed Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore (Duomo). After projecting a contemporary image of a drawing of an assassination, complete with daggers being wielded and bodies fallen, I show Florence as it appeared in a painting from 1480, with the Duomo dominating the skyline. Next come images of the Duomo itself, from afar and up close, as I talk tangentially about the special qualities of Brunelleschi's dome and how the architect's study of the Roman Pantheon (pictures of which I also project, exterior and interior, complete with the hole in the dome's center) helped him to design a structure that Europeans had lost the ability to replicate for a thousand years.2
As I relate the story of the attack, students view portraits of Lorenzo and Giuliani, the latter by Botticelli. Although Giuliani was killed, a wounded Lorenzo escaped and sought protection in the city. The people rallied to his side, rounded up the conspirators, and hanged them. Finally, I show Leonardo da Vinci's sketch of one of the hanging men and a photograph of the Palazzo Vecchio from which he was hanged. And, to draw a modern reference from popular culture, I remind students of Hannibal, both the book by Thomas Harris and the motion picture,3 where the evil title character, living incognito in present-day Florence, is pursued by a detective named Pazzi who soon meets a fate similar to his forebears.4
Students are thus led through an episode visually via images of art and architecture, with scenes from two cities, as they learn about more than just the dark side of Renaissance politics. Students tell me that these visuals help them to remember and understand the conspiracy more effectively, along with its historical significance. Not incidentally, teaching it this way is also more fun for the instructor; I enjoy seeing these images, mentally revisiting places I've been, and sharing my enthusiasm with students. Another example from the same period involves a discussion of the causes of the Italian Renaissance, one of which is Italy's being the site of the old Roman world. This point is emphasized via the projection of photos of the remains of the Roman Forum, the Coliseum, Circus Maximus, a section of the wall that still encircles much of old Rome, and Piazza Navona, whose oblong shape reflects the racing arena (Domitian's Stadium) that once occupied the site.5
In teaching world history I find it instructive to give some attention to "dehumanization," the act of rendering opponents something less than human in order to justify inhumane actions against them. This can be demonstrated visually in a variety of compelling ways, with drawings, propaganda posters, modern journalism, photographs, film, and music serving as guiding lights. For example, a machine gun, patented in England in 1718 and illustrated by a contemporary drawing, included two different magazines: One contained round shot for use against "civilized" Christian enemies and the other held square shot -- which caused more devastating wounds -- for "uncivilized" non-Christians.6 More recently, in the United States we have dehumanized Japanese and Vietnamese, among others, when we were at war, which in turn made it easier to try to kill them. The point is driven home, first through the projection of three posters from World War II of caricatures ridiculing Japanese as rats, apes, menacing creatures, or comic characters with oversize teeth and glasses,7 and then with the viewing of the unintentionally humorous guide, "How To Tell Your Friends From The Japs," published in Time magazine in 1941. Among the "few rules of thumb -- not always reliable" for distinguishing between our Chinese friends and Japanese enemies: "Chinese, not as hairy as Japanese, seldom grow an impressive mustache"; "Japanese walk stiffly erect, hard-heeled. Chinese, more relaxed, have an easy gait, sometimes shuffle"; "Most Chinese avoid horn-rimmed spectacles."8
Caricature in Racism and Nationalism
There are many images of Jews, Africans, and African Americans that demonstrate the twisted creativity behind the forces of dehumanization (and of racism and nationalism). An illustration from one of Julius Streicher's children's books works well here, such as the one that shows blond Germanic pupils rejoicing as grossly caricatured Jewish children and their teacher are expelled from school so that discipline can be restored. Useful companion pieces include a Nazi "race-identification table" used to portray typical German heads and a photograph of the width of a man's nose being measured to determined racial origin.9 Another useful addition is an excerpt (about halfway into the film) from Europa Europa in which a German Jewish teenager, who had been surviving World War II by passing himself off as a Christian, is brought to the front of his class to have his head measured in order to demonstrate his Aryan features.10 I also find it telling to then show a map (published in newspapers in November 2002)11 of the African origins of all human species. Finally, the playing of military songs or aggressive national anthems, such as the Marseillaise12 (including the sanguinary words in translation), to promote nationalism expands the subject ever more vividly.
Monarchs, especially those who reigned for a long time, often had portraits painted (or in modern times were photographed) at various stages in their lives and in a variety of settings. Louis XIV on horseback at a military siege might look like Frederick the Great under similar circumstances, but a lesson in comparative rule can be more instructive when accompanied by their painted images, as Frederick actually directed his troops while Louis only appeared at a battle site in time to be painted at the moment of victory.13 Flattering the subject notwithstanding, artists provide us character studies that reveal a great deal about the looks and nurtured images of, say, Henry VIII and his daughter, Elizabeth I. Students can be shown Henry metamorphosing from a physically impressive Adonis to a bloated, diseased, angry, and disappointed man; the increasing dimensions of his several surviving suits of armor, when projected on a screen, underline the point.14
We know less about Elizabeth's appearance, especially as she aged, lost her hair and smooth skin to the ravages of smallpox, and had her vanished beauty made over with the fawning words of courtiers, but at least two portraits show her as an older woman,15 while the backgrounds, as well as the costumes, of the earlier portraits reveal much about the queen and her times. Catherine the Great and Queen Victoria are two other monarchs whose lives, in part, are illuminated in both individual and family portraits over long periods.
Artists who painted for royalty and for social and political elites sometimes offered subtle messages that we can use in class to demonstrate the personalities of subjects and thus the success or failure of a project. For example, when the thrice-married-but-now-bachelor Henry VIII sought a fourth wife, he sent Hans Holbein the Younger to the courts of Europe, where eligible princesses resided, in order to relay to him as much about these women as possible to help him make his choice. Henry was sent the portraits of Christina of Denmark and Anne of Cleves, but the artist wanted his patron to know something about each woman's personality, as well as her appearance. (Wanting to know something about a prospective spouse was not unusual. In fact, Henry's father, the widowed Henry VII, sent a secret memorandum to his ambassadors concerning a proposed marriage between himself and the Queen of Naples. The first Tudor monarch asked about "the features of her body . . . whether she be painted or not . . . the fashion of her nose . . . [and whether] her breasts . . . be big or small." A wonderful recording of this, and other documents from English history, The Hollow Crown, was made in 1962.)16
The clever Holbein painted the lively, intelligent Christina in subdued clothes that do little to distract attention from the woman herself. In contrast, we see the rather sweet but dull Anne in an elaborate jeweled headdress and colorful dress, both of which are more interesting than her face.17 I have students tell me what they see as they compare the two works. Christina looks directly at us with an air of confidence, while Anne's eyes are downcast; Christina's hands gracefully hold a pair of gloves, while Anne's are folded submissively. As it turned out, Christina refused to be enticed to share Henry's bed, whereas the more obedient Anne accepted. But upon seeing her, Henry initiated divorce proceedings that had political consequences as well.
Picturing Battles and Rulers
An already-dramatic and significant episode in the history of the early modern world can be given added dimension with the use of art, music, maps, and photographs. During the height of the Ottoman Empire (fifteenth and sixteenth centuries), the ruling sultans made effective use of their Janissary corps of foot soldiers. The Janissaries were slaves, recruited mainly from conquered Christian peasant villages in the Balkans. Taken as young men as a form of tax, they were drilled in military tactics, converted to Islam, and educated to become obedient, disciplined agents of the sultan's will; they also comprised what some have called Europe's first standing army. Showing contemporary images of the recruitment of those Christian boys and of Janissaries in their colorful uniforms and headgear,18 while also playing "Gneç Osman" ("Young Osman"), a Janissary march,19 melds vivid illustrations with the vibrant sounds made by ensembles of drums and double-reed wind instruments. The Ottomans marched to battle to the accompaniment of music, which at first terrified the Europeans but was subsequently imitated by them.20 Later western composers, such as Mozart and Beethoven, were influenced by this Turkish music, and we today can often hear its echoes in marching bands.
These same Janissaries21 in 1453 played a crucial role in the Fall of Constantinople (the Conquest of Istanbul for Muslims). The story of this pivotal event fascinates, starting with Sultan Mehmet II's building a great fortress -- in a mere five months -- across the Bosporus from an existing castle built by his grandfather, which enabled him to control the strait's narrowest point; it still survives. With entrance to the Golden Horn -- an inlet that forms the inner part of the city and where the city's walls were most vulnerable -- blocked by a huge chain with links close to 11 feet long, Mehmet developed an audacious idea. He had his men build a wooden ramp laid with metal tracks (starting at the waterfront site where the Dolmabahçe Palace now stands) from the Bosporus overland so that some seventy Turkish ships, hauled out of the water by pulleys and placed on wooden cradles made by the sultan's carpenters and fitted with iron wheels, could be pulled some three miles by oxen up a 200-foot hill and down the other side into the Golden Horn. An analysis of this episode becomes especially meaningful and memorable when accompanied by a map showing the region around Constantinople (including the Black Sea, the Bosporus, the Sea of Mamara, and the Dardanelles), a picture of the Golden Horn and immediate surroundings and another of the ships being hauled, along with a portrait of the sultan, photographs of the fortress, the restored walls around parts of the old city, and those extraordinary chain links.22
A monarch every bit as splendid and central to his empire's success was Louis XIV of France. A veritable recreation of his court, complete with photographs, paintings, music, and film, can give students a heightened sense of what it must have been like to be in the presence of the Sun King. Ingredients include images of what Versailles looked like in 1668 and 1722 (i.e., the difference between a palace not much larger than the original chateau of Louis XIII and that which Louis XIV had quadrupled in size), a portrait or two of Louis (such as those by Claude Lefebvre and Hyacinthe Rigaud), a photograph of the Hall of Mirrors, pictures of seventeenth-century French nobles in all their finery, the music of Jean-Baptiste Lully (especially the brief Ouverture to his court opera, Atys23), and a little imagination by both instructor and students.24 Not incidentally, Lully, an Italian immigrant, defined the essence of French opera for years to come; his music is filled with nationalistic overtones and flattering tributes to the king while reflecting the grandeur and confidence of the royal court.
After projecting the portraits of Louis and talking about his appearance and demeanor, as well as his desire to dominate those about him, the discussion moves to the ways in which the king made enjoying life at court the goal of the nobility -- as opposed to their attempting to emasculate the monarchy, as had been the norm earlier, especially when the crown was weak. In time, the great object of nobles was to keep themselves in the king's eye, with Versailles being center court. With the sounds of Atys filling the room, I show, in succession, those images of Versailles, drawings of the dress of the nobility, and the Hall of Mirrors, which I describe (i.e., the dimensions, the crystal chandeliers, the painted ceiling and generous use of gold leaf, the parquet floor, the 17 windows, and the 17 identically shaped mirrors). I ask students to visualize in their mind's eye the light of the sun piercing those windows, darting every which way as it passes through the crystal chandeliers, bouncing off the mirrors -- it had to be dazzling. The Hall is filled with nobles on display, eager to be noticed by the king. He passes among them, nodding to several deemed worthy of his recognition, even exchanging a word or two with a select few, which separates them from their peers and, surely, engulfs their bodies like few other experiences. This was all part of a great game Louis played; it is perhaps why he created Versailles, and this brief presentation (i.e., the audiovisual part takes only about five minutes) seems to capture its essence in a way students can appreciate at another level than if described with words alone.25
Impacts of Industrialization
In teaching about nineteenth-century industrialization and especially the coming of the railway, I focus first on the inaugural run of the initial line from Liverpool to Manchester in 1830 and then on the impact of trains on towns that were once regular coach stops but were thereafter bypassed; primary sources and literature supplement a number of valuable visual images. Along with projecting an image of "The Rocket," the first commercial locomotive, and a print of the opening-day ceremonies,26 I have students read an eyewitness description by one of the passengers, who was as exhilarated as her mother was terrified by the speed (approximately 24 mph) with which "we flew by" the many people who lined the parallel road. Among the dignitaries on the train were William Huskisson, a prominent politician, and the prime minister, the Duke of Wellington. When the train stopped to take on a supply of water, Huskisson, among others, exited to look about and greet the Duke in his carriage. Just then another engine, demonstrating its speed on an adjacent track, came "upon them like lightning." Poor Huskisson froze, "looked helplessly to the right and left, and was instantaneously prostrated by the fatal machine, which dashed down like a thunderbolt upon them."27 This account of the first railway fatality can also be accompanied by other images of the carriages provided for the different classes of travel and cartoons (from Punch among others28) depicting the anticipated horrors of this newfangled form of transportation.
There is a particularly telling print from 1859 that reveals the price of progress by contrasting a passenger train, an impressive new station, and a growing new town, in the background, with an abandoned, decaying stagecoach and broken-down inn from the previous era in the foreground.29 A perfect accompaniment is to read the first couple of pages from chapter 25, "Courcy," in Anthony Trollope's Doctor Thorne (1858), which describes, in narrative and dialogue, the negative impact a neighboring railway has been having on a once-thriving town at which the stagecoach no longer stops.30 It is as if the picture had been composed specifically for the novel, and having students read it is a way of demonstrating the value literature can have for historians. Needless to say, there are many other images that can be used effectively to help students comprehend the significance of the Industrial Revolution, including an excerpt or two from Charlie Chaplin's classic film, Modern Times.31
There is virtually no limit to what can be done to illuminate the subjects we teach, and appealing to students through more than just one of their sensory organs has positive results for teaching and learning. By way of some quick takes: In teaching about the Reformation, I talk about the role played by relics. The discussion gets a boost from images of, say, what the Catholic Church accepts as a piece of the True Cross or a nail used during the Crucifixion, or of objects linked to saints, such as the chains used to bind St. Peter or the shoes of St. Teresa of Avila. The Church is supposed to be in possession of what was once believed to be the footprint of Jesus, but it is not displayed (I indicate why). In contrast, a mold of the footprint of the Prophet Mohammed is on display in Topkapi Palace in Istanbul. Teaching about the Chinese civil service examinations hits closer to home with students when accompanied by images of the settings and cubicles in which the exams were taken, along with a recitation of sample questions. A discussion of foot binding, a practice that was once an integral part of the lives of millions of Chinese women, comes to life through drawings showing how feet were bound, photographs of the tiny shoes as well as of deformed naked feet, and an authentic pair of such shoes that students can actually see and touch. And poetry always adds an effectively lyric touch, whether combining it, say, with a study of Italian humanism (e.g., Dante's The Divine Comedy) or analyzing the role of women in China and Latin America (e.g., Book of Songs, for the poem beginning "When a son is born"32 or "Woman" by Fu Hsüan33 and "To Be Born a Man" by Bolivian poet Adela Zamudio34). There is also a plethora of poetry associated with World War I.35 Siegfried Sassoon's "To a Childless Woman" is given a brilliantly poignant reading by English actor Jeremy Irons, to the accompaniment of documentary footage, at the conclusion of PBS's first-rate series, The Great War, which can be used to good effect in class.36
And on and on it can go: Thomas More's trial is brought to life by a film clip from A Man for All Seasons37 and can be followed up by showing how the site of the trial, Westminster Hall in London, was for centuries the location of as many as four separate courts, some in session simultaneously, with the use of early nineteenth-century illustrations of the hall and the courts by architectural draftsman Augustus Pugin in collaboration with caricaturist Thomas Rowlandson.38 The Great Depression is buttressed with photographs, a song by Woody Guthrie (e.g., "I Ain't Got No Home in This World Any More" [1940]),39 and an excerpt from John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath (1939).40 Examples of African art, and thus a part of African culture, can be projected to demonstrate the skills involved, the way that art gave voice to African reactions to the coming of Europeans, the way it exerted an influence on later European art -- say, on Picasso and Matisse -- and to dispel Western myths of African backwardness. Teaching about Africa and the slave trade will benefit from maps, music (such as griot songs and slave shout songs), and a host of images of, among other things, African cities and village life; slave forts; European, Arab, and African traders; the Middle Passage (including a powerful film clip from Amistad 41 and a reading from Olaudah Equiano's description of his experience aboard a slave ship42); slave life in the Americas, North and South; and the propaganda that led to the end of the slave trade. And examples from the art of the great twentieth-century Mexican muralists, Diego Rivera, José Clemente Orozco, and David Alfaro Siqueiros, can be shown to demonstrate how they made use of history to educate, to promote their political and social ideas, and to mobilize the population at large.43
Remembering Events and Ideas
Images, in short, help students to understand and remember events and ideas, just as words coax deeper meaning from images. When images and words are used together -- with images serving words -- they help to promote more effective teaching and learning. The following comments from some of my students might serve, at least anecdotally and representatively, as evidence of my claim: "We learn by building on what we know, but with an unfamiliar subject sometimes there isn't enough background knowledge to facilitate learning. Using images gives students a visual tool useful for retaining new information because they are able to link an image with a person or even a concept." Images help "to contextualize the student with the period. They place you geographically. They set you within the culture . . . [They also make] the class more interactive . . . It allows us to get a more in-depth view of [the teacher's] perspective on history." "Because I am a visual person, images bring the content to life, and I understand the subject better." The presentation on seventeenth-century Dutch art "was a terrific integration and visual demonstration of societal change in Dutch society . . . [Getting] a sense of the culture is sometimes more important than a little more factual data."
In addition, and as a result of my using images, some students are incorporating within their research papers images that they themselves have discovered (e.g., engravings of women, men, and families for a paper on Luther's views on these subjects); others, in critical book reviews, are evaluating the effectiveness of visual illustrations. I also have constructed a few essay exam questions that require students to integrate into their responses what they have seen and discussed in class with required course readings.44
A great variety of images are housed in textbooks, with each new edition offering additional opportunities to the searcher. Some monographs and other histories laden with illustrations, along with art books, especially those in color, are another helpful source. The potential of the Internet for finding resources, including images, is increasingly being appreciated.
As you, fellow teachers, review class notes and the subjects you will be addressing, imagine the kind of images that might be useful to augment and improve what you do, and then look for them. Reviewing images in books, on the World Wide Web, and elsewhere often will suggest ways in which they might be used, e.g., to expand a story or to complement music, poetry, literature, and film. In other words, when I determine that a lecture or discussion subject would profit from illustrations, I search for them; when I come across images while reading I think about ways I might be able to incorporate them into what I do in class. Not every idea pans out, not every image proves useful. Either way, the process keeps me thinking about my teaching effectiveness. Before long, this process takes on a life of its own: the art of teaching surges to new heights and, like medieval manuscripts, history is illuminated. But let me be clear: This approach is not simply a more advanced version of show-and-tell. It is instead a means to improve student learning and thinking skills by melding and integrating words, concepts, and ideas with visual stimulation. Following my lead will take time, but "illuminating" history, when used selectively, is an approach that can be effective in drawing students more deeply and broadly into the material, in getting more students more involved.
It was said of Petrarch that he lived by and for writing, with no interest that could not be converted into a literary form. In a comparable way, so it is with historians who take pride in their teaching and who see in what they read, observe, hear, and experience possibilities for use or adaptation in their classes.45
Robert Blackey is a professor of history at California State University, San Bernardino, whose work focuses on British history. A former Chief Reader, he has served as a member and as chair of the AP European History Development Committee. This article first appeared in the Fall 2005 issue of Teaching History; it appears on AP Central courtesy of a permission agreement with that journal.
Notes
1 When using overhead projectors, it is best to have a spare bulb handy; a burned out bulb is, effectively, the only malfunction to anticipate. PowerPoint allows for smoother transitions from one slide to the next, but the hardware is sometimes known to not always work as advertised. There are also overhead projectors that include cameras that enable teachers to project images directly from books. As long as a room is not lighted too brightly, all of these technologies can be used in typical classrooms; I usually dim or turn off some of the lights closest to the viewing screen. Teachers will also have to decide how much time to expend in pursuit of images; finding them takes time and energy, but the effort stimulates my creative juices, and my experience in seeking and incorporating them into my class presentations has broadened my enthusiasm for teaching.
2 To find a wealth of pictures and other images, use the image function in a search engine such as Google and access Web sites such as Artcyclopedia.com and Artchive.com. Most textbooks today, for courses in world, Western, and U.S. history, include excellent color and black-and-white images that can be scanned into a PowerPoint program or made into transparencies, with each new edition including many new pictures. In addition, the following offer quality text to accompany their images: Gloria K. Fiero, The Humanistic Tradition, 2 vols., fourth edition (New York: McGraw-Hill, 2002); Mary A. F. Witt, et al., The Humanities, 2 vols., seventh edition (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2005); Robert C. Lamm, The Humanities in Western Culture, fourth edition (New York: McGraw-Hill, 2004); Roy C. Matthews and F. DeWitt Platt, The Western Humanities, 2 vols., fifth edition (New York: McGraw-Hill, 2004); H. W. Janson and Anthony E. Janson, History of Art: The Western Tradition, sixth edition (Upper Saddle River, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall and New York: Henry N. Abrams, 2001); F. David Martin and Lee A. Jacobus, The Humanities through the Arts, sixth edition (New York: McGraw-Hill, 2004); Martin Kemp, The Oxford History of Western Art (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000); Hugh Brigstocke, ed., The Oxford Companion to Western Art (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001).
3 Thomas Harris, Hannibal (New York: Dell, 2000); Hannibal, (VHS/DVD, MGM, 2001).
4 For more on the conspiracy, see Lauro Martines, April Blood: Florence and the Plot Against the Medici (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003); the bibliography will direct readers to many other sources. Interested readers should be aware of a new twist to the conspiracy. On March 6, 2004, The New York Times (first section, p. 17) reported that, according to Marcello Simonetta, a professor of Italian history and literature (and based on his research in a private archive in Urbino), the mercenary Federico da Montefeltro, duke of Urbino, played a pivotal role in the assassination plot. Simonetta's findings, recently published in Archivo Storico Italiano and in a new book, The Secret Renaissance (2004), point to the duke's desire to eliminate the Medici brothers and suggest that he supported the effort with 550 soldiers and fifty knights. It remains to be determined, it would seem, why those soldiers were not sent.
5 In addition to picture-filled guidebooks (purchased when visiting Rome and other historic sites) that can be used as sources for images, most of these Roman sites and more are featured in the various humanities books cited in footnote 2.
6 TimeFrame: The Enterprise of War (Alexandria, Virginia: Time-Life Books, 1991), 73. This book is part of a 23-volume TimeFrame series that offers reasonably sound general-audience text accompanied by excellent visual materials. Another equally useful Time-Life collection is the more recent (1998-2000) 18-volume What Life Was Like series.
7 Peter Paret et al., Persuasive Images: Posters of War and Revolution (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), 198. This is a rich topic that can be pursued further on the Internet where several sites show World War II posters.
8 Time (December 22, 1991), 33.
9 Shadow of the Dictators: TimeFrame AD 1925-1950 (Alexandria, Virginia: Time-Life Books, 1989), 36-37. A parallel avenue to pursue along these lines of race and discrimination -- but this time in Latin and Hispanic parts of the Western hemisphere -- concerns race mixing. See Ilona Katzew, Casta Painting: Images of Race in Eighteenth-Century Mexico (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004).
10 Europa Europa (1991; VHS/DVD, MGM, 2003).
11 The New York Times (November 12, 2002), Section F, 3.
12 www.marseillaise.org/audio/mireille_mathieu_-_la_marseillaise, mp3.
13 Examples of such illustrations can be found in A. G. Dickens, ed., The Courts of Europe: Politics, Patronage and Royalty, 1400-1800 (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1977), 255; Nancy Mitford, The Sun King (New York: Crescent Books, 1966), 33; Andrew Zega and Bernd H. Dams, Palaces of the Sun King: Versailles, Trianon, Marly: The Chateaux of Louis XIV (London: Laurence King, 2002), 10, 12, 14, 53, 73, 130, 160, 286, 192; Nancy Mitford, Frederick the Great (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1970), 278-279, 284. An Internet search will yield other relevant images.
14 In this case, seeing is believing, but it isn't always: see David King, The Commissar Vanishes: The Falsification of Photographs and Art in Stalin's Russia (New York: Metropolitan Books/Henry Holt, 1997).
15 Neville Williams, A Royal History of England: The Tudors (London: Cassell, 2000), 77.
16 Royal Shakespeare Company, The Hollow Crown: The Fall and Foibles of the Kings and Queens of England (London Records, A4253). The print version of the performance, including the exchange between Henry VII and his ambassadors, can be found in John Barton, The Hollow Crown: An Entertainment by and about the Kings and Queens of England (London: Samuel French Ltd and George G. Harrap and Co Ltd, 1962), 24-26.
17 Helen Langdon, Holbein (London: Phaidon Press, 1976), 110-113.
18 These Web sites offer relevant images:
www.humanities.ualbert.ca/ottoman/tur2pict.htm
www.siue.edu/costumes/plate67cx.html
19 Mehter Band of the Asker Müse, Istanbul, Lyrichord Discs, Inc. Excellent suggestions for ways to use music and where to find a wide variety of selections can be found in Alex Zukas, "Different Drummers: Using Music to Teach History," Perspectives (September 1996), 27-33. Also see Joseph Machlis and Kristine Forney, The Enjoyment of Music, ninth ed., shorter version (New York: W. W. Norton, 2003); in addition to a history-friendly narrative and discussions of specific pieces of music, information is provided about relevant CDs and cassettes; also available is the Norton Digital Music Collection, featuring six hours of music that were selected to enhance the core repertory of the ninth edition: www.wwnorton.com/college/music/ndmc.
20 According to Machlis and Forney, The Enjoyment of Music, 59, 234-235, Janissary bands originated in Anatolia/Turkey in the fourteenth century as an elite corps of mounted musicians. They accompanied soldiers to war, playing their brass and percussion instruments from horseback and their fifes and drums from among the ranks of foot soldiers in order to spur the troops into battle.
21 For more on the Janissaries by one of their own who served during this time period, see Konstantin Mihailovic, Memoirs of a Janissary, trans. B. Stolz, Michigan Slavic Translations no. 3 (Ann Arbor: Michigan Slavic Publications, 1975).
22 For many of these and other relevant images, see J. J. Norwich, Byzantium: The Decline and Fall (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1966); Nurhan Atasoy, Splendors of the Ottoman Sultans (Memphis, Tennessee: Wonders, The Memphis International Cultural Series, 1992); Ilhan Aksit, The City of Two Continents: Istanbul (Istanbul: Aksit Kültür Turizm Sanat Ajans Ltd. Sti., 1995). For the most thorough history of the event, see Steven Runciman, The Fall of Constantinople, 1453 (London: Cambridge University Press, 1965). According to Runciman (104-105), and based on a then-recent action undertaken by the Venetians, "it was probably an Italian in his [Mehmet's] service who suggested to him that ships could be transported overland." No source is provided for this speculation, but even if the initial idea came from this Italian, it was Mehmet who had to adapt it to the specific circumstances and terrain and who had to oversee its successful execution.
23 Jean-Baptiste Lully, Atys. Les Arts Florissant, Harmonia Mundi France. Three compact discs, HMC 901257.59.
24 Mitford, The Sun King; Dickens, Courts of Europe, 233-261; John Adamson, ed., The Princely Courts of Europe (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1999), 67-93. Also useful for several film clips is The Rise of Louis XIV (1966, directed by R. Rossellini; VHS, Hen's Tooth Video, 1990).
25 Mitford, The Sun King, passim; Dickens, Courts of Europe, 233-261; Adamson, The Princely Courts of Europe, 90-93.
26 The Pulse of Enterprise: TimeFrame AD 1800-1850 (Alexandria, Virginia: Time-Life books, 1990), 60-61; John Langdon-Davies, ed., James Watt and Steam Power (Amawalk, New York: Jackdaw Publications, 1965).
27 John Carey, ed. Eyewitness to History (New York: Avon Books, 1997), 304-306.
28 Ralph Harrington, "The Neuroses of the Railway," History Today, 44:7 (July 1994), 15-21; Lionel Lambourne, Victorian Painting (London: Phaidon Press, 1999), 265, 267-268.
29 Harrington, "The Neuroses of the Railway," 15-21.
30 Anthony Trollope, Doctor Thorne (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001).
31 Modern Times (1936; VHS, Twentieth Century Fox, 1992).
32 http://china.tyfo.com/int/literature/ancient%20poems/i990817literature.htm.
33 www.wsu.edu:8080/~wldciv/world_civ_reader/world_civ_reader_1/chinese_poetry.html.
34 http://coloquio.com/coloquioonline/0206jbzamudio.htm.
35 For example, see Jon Silken, ed., The Penguin Book of First World War Poetry (London: Penguin, 1997) and Carolyn Forché, ed., Against Forgetting: Twentieth-Century Poetry of Witness (New York: W. W. Norton, 1993).
36 The Great War and the Shaping of the 20th Century (VHS, PBS Home Video, 1998).
37 A Man for All Seasons (1996; DVD, Columbia/Tristar, 2004).
38 Fiona St. Aubyn, Ackermann's Illustrated London (Ware, U.K.: Wordsworth Editions, 1985), 66-75.
39 Dust Bowl Ballads (Audeo 2000, Buddha/Bmg, #99727).
40 John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath (New York: Penguin, 2002).
41 Amistad (1997; DVD, Dreamworks SKG, 2003; VHS, Universal Studio, 2000).
42 The Life of Olaudah Equiano (New York: Dover, 1999).
43 Desmond Rochfort, Mexican Muralists: Orozco, Rivera, Siqueiros (New York: Chronicle Books, 1998).
44 For example: "The unity that was the 'United' Netherlands was based upon political and economic success and upon a distinctive civilization." With this quotation as a point of reference, describe and analyze the nature of seventeenth-century Dutch life and society. Support your answer with examples from and direct references to J. L. Price's The Dutch Republic in the 17th Century and the art shown in class.
45 For example, the articles, books, and book reviews I read generate ideas for what might be integrated into class lectures and discussions (and often for the need for a possible visual accompaniment as an added stimulant). And in my travels to both historic and natural sites I instinctively see through the tripartite lens of being a teacher, a historian, and a tourist. Can I use this in class, I ask myself, and if so, to what educational advantage?
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