The race against time: Salvaging Brisbane's early history
In a sterile office, a young woman, Emily Totivan, is immersed in a challenging puzzle. But this puzzle is not a simple jigsaw; it's a complex reconstruction of ceramic shards from the early days of Brisbane's transformation from a penal settlement to a thriving river port. Totivan, an archaeology student, is meticulously piecing together fragments of dinner plates used by people in the 19th century.
The plates, adorned with intricate blue and white patterns, depict a serene Chinese-inspired scene of pagodas, willows, and swallows. Totivan explains that such designs were prevalent on tea sets, platters, and vases of that era, reflecting a more refined lifestyle. She describes the process as an incredibly rewarding yet daunting task, akin to solving the world's most intricate puzzle.
Totivan, a member of a generation grappling with the challenges of artificial intelligence and climate change, is among a new wave of young archaeologists who actively engage with the past. Despite popular culture's fascination with Egyptian tombs and Viking treasures, many of her peers are destined to work in urban settings, uncovering and analyzing artifacts like these blue China plates.
As Brisbane prepares for the 2032 Olympics, a surge in salvage archaeology is anticipated. The city will undergo significant infrastructure development, including a proposed 63,000-seat stadium on a heritage-listed site. This project highlights the delicate balance between progress and preserving history.
Elisha Kilderry, a fellow 19-year-old student, shares Totivan's passion for the past. With a background in genetics and archaeology, Kilderry aims to unravel the mysteries of human and biological evolution through bone and genome analysis. She is currently working with larger ceramic shards, each bearing a unique geometric design in viridian green.
Initially envisioning a career in European or remote Indigenous digs, Kilderry now finds herself sifting through the William Street assemblage, a collection of everyday items from the 1870s to 1990s. This includes clay pipes, rum bottles, ceramic dolls, and even a bone toothbrush. The experience is surreal for Kilderry, who lives nearby and can relate to the artifacts.
The William Street assemblage was not unearthed through traditional excavation methods. Instead, it emerged unexpectedly during the 2011 floods when a burst water main dislodged tens of thousands of artifacts beneath the street. The University of Queensland Archaeological Services Unit (UQASU) worked alongside emergency crews to salvage as much archaeology as possible.
While this type of archaeology against the clock is not uncommon, it is typically associated with major infrastructure projects. Nick Hadnutt, the archaeology curator at the Queensland Museum, explains that their museum rarely acquires assemblages due to plumbing disasters. The UQASU team carefully selected items that were unusual, noteworthy, or provided insights into the everyday lives of the era.
One of the few intact objects is a small ink bottle, once used in the heritage-listed government printing house. Despite being over a century old, it still contains a trace of ink, a reminder of the past. John Duckett, a 21-year-old student, volunteers for digs, valuing the physical connection to history, even if it means playing video games and browsing Instagram.
Hadnutt emphasizes that archaeology is both a physical and intellectual pursuit. The artifacts, despite their dislocation, hold little scientific value but carry immense emotional significance. The process of handling and preserving history is a crucial aspect of archaeology, offering a tangible connection to the past.
