The Karpeles Manuscript Museum, 407 South G Street. Across the street from Wright Park this ominous and often overlooked building stands tall and sports classic architecture. The cannon in the front of the lot guards the door to a free admission and in my opinion a waste of time. History fascinates me especially priceless artifacts from all cycles of cultures and people both important and obscure. I’m not writing a negative piece about this museum, just an honest one.
Upon Entrance I was greeted by a gal freckled from candy abuse and vitamin D. she doesn’t ask for a donation because there is no donation box. She then yammers about the visiting exhibits “hieroglyphics Noah Webster, and more Hieroglyphics.”
The manuscripts, supposed delicate paper are held in frail wooden boxes lined with velvet and guarded by 50 cent locks. A confused curator interested only in the woes of her cell phone chattered away as I saw there were no security measures to protect any of these priceless pressed pieces of pulp. Everything locked in these wooden boxes looked fake, the crinkles and torn edges bare shadows not of the illumination from this musky hall. The bust of good ol’ Honest Abe held my attention longer than the dummies in shining armor. I was troubled by the prints, all but one looked like an original, the handwritten page out of Noah Webster’s first dictionary everything else looked like a laser copy almost pixilated. The laminated descriptions above each box held no information about where the artifact came from; its preservation from the erosion of time, just a translation of the tiny handwriting of history’s greatest.
The Hieroglyphics were encased in ½” Plexiglas locked in by a convenience lock used at stores like k-mart. The descriptions held only the meaning of the symbol and did not describe what tomb or Egyptian monument they were cut from. The sandstone looked manufactured by Quick-Crete and was in perfect condition making yet another artifact here look counterfeit.
All negatives aside, I did enjoy that the walls in one room were covered in what looked like paintings created for 80’s fantasy pulp novels. Two outrageous glass sculptures created by the local Evan Schaus (see Michaels post), and last but not least a limited edition of a limited edition Declaration of independence, the icing on the cake……
My questions and your mystery to solve for a reward of two beers from myself are: How do they pay taxes on this building if no donations are needed nor accepted? How come there seems to be no authenticity to the artifacts? Why were the levels of security so low when some of these priceless pages could be stolen so easily?
Overall, I was stumped by the time I left and felt a strange feeling of being ripped off even though I didn’t pay! What do you think?
photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/maybelline/342866156/