“I have a good friend in the East, who comes to my shows and says, you sing a lot about the past, you can't live in the past, you know. I say to him, I can go outside and pick up a rock that's older than the oldest song you know,
and bring it back in here and drop it on your foot. Now the past didn't go anywhere, did it? It's right here, right now.
---Utah Phillips
The past didn't go anywhere, it's still right here. Studied history in college, now when I go out wandering and shooting, I see it lurking, hiding in plain sight. In the lines of buildings and the quirky layout of streets, or maybe just perched up on a hill surrounded by trees. A hop, skip, and a jump from the house, up on Kenwood Hill, is a bit of it that matches that latter description. Called the Little Loomhouse, it is a collection of three cabins dating to the late 19th century. (From left to right in the photo above is Esta Cabin, Wisteria Cabin, and Tophouse Cabin)
Esta is the oldest, dating back to 1870, and bears the distinction of being the place where the most recognizable song in the English language, "Happy Birthday to You" was first sung. Wisteria (left) and Tophouse (right) were built as summer homes (This was back before Louisville had sprawled quite so much) shortly before the turn of the century.
The place has been something of a community cultural center ever since an artist bought Esta in 1898, but it wasn't until Lou Tate acquired it in the 1930s that the Little Loomhouse started to take shape.
She would weave a life there, running a weaving business as well as teaching weaving and related arts until her death in 1979. You can find more history here but here the past is definitely still present.
Nowadays the Little Loomhouse is a nonprofit but the classes in weaving and textile arts remain the same, along with its role as a community cultural center.
Took a weaving class here myself last year, in Tophouse Cabin, which is where all these interior shots are from. My partner has taken several different classes, spinning, dyeing and weaving, which is basically the whole process from fiber to fabric. There was no class in session today but I'll be back Saturday to capture an all ages weaving class.
Machines may make the majority of cloth these days but the past ways didn't go anywhere, they're still right here on Kenwood Hill. If something goes wrong with the machines, they'll still be right here but we might have a greater appreciation for our clothing.
Somehow, I'd not known of the Little Loomhouse until a few years ago, and I've been in Louisville for nearly 21 years. As I've learned more and more about the history of my neck of the woods, that has been something of a recurring theme. Decided this called for a sort of hyperlocal history project, use photography to link the past and present. Still a bit fuzzy on the exact details of how, though.
Going to start with documenting folks learning how to weave with 70+ year old looms. More soon.
Me too. My undergraduate degree was in history, but we are in the minority. It is not studied much these days as in this report. Maybe we wouldn't be in the disastrous place we're in now if more people studied history.
And yes, it is all around. Everywhere. It gives context to experience.
"What are you going to do with that?" Judging by the number of times I got asked that, I'm not very surprised to hear the numbers of history majors are going down. One would hope, but I've encountered a distinct unwillingness to learn often enough to make me suspect more historians might not alter outcomes measurably.
How interesting the history of this place, besides I love that kind of architecture and the fact that it has been preserved for many years.
I can't wait to shoot more there, this visit was mostly just a scouting expedition. It's just such a neat place. At points in the past its preservation was in doubt but they're doing alright for their age :)
My congrats