I currently have the great good fortune to be a visiting scholar at Stanford University’s Center for Electronic Spatial and Textual Analysis (CESTA). I have two aims while here: working on the monograph (on spatial narratives – more blogging on this to follow) upon which my term’s research leave from King’s is contingent, and developing a new project, recently christened “The Archaeology of Place in Ancient Cyprus”. This is follows the A G Leventis Heritage Gazetteer of Cyprus, which I have blogged about previously; but rather than being concerned with historical names, which are written down and attested, this phase is focusing on the prehistoric period – where, of course, there are no written records, and thus no known place-names (and no documented attestations of their spellings, forms etc). In the Archaeology of Place, We are creating a seed dataset which seeks to represent Cypriot archaeology of the prehistoric period, before any contemporary place-names are documented. This involves a multistage process of critical quantification: starting with published material on prehistoric sites and features, we are examining how these can be defined in objective (and computable) terms, and how different units of archaeology can be represented at different scales. This will lead to a broader examination the ‘toponymic spaces’ of prehistoric features: how do the areas they occupy on the Earth’s surface relate to more recent place-name structures? And what strategies can we use to grow this dataset in the future, beyond the corpus of material currently available in print?
Critical quantification is key to this project. I have real problems with the way the words ‘quantitative’ and ‘qualitative’ are often used in the Digital Humanities. They – as far as I can see – are terms that have evolved over a long period of time in the social sciences, where they have a well-understood meaning and a solid methodological grounding. In the DH, they are frequently used as catchy labels for ‘things which either can or cannot be machine-read respectively’. This is undoubtedly not helpful, given the great complexity and diversity of ‘humanities data’ – a term which, itself, is surely too broad to be all that useful.
So we are beginning with what can definitely be quantified. When I. A. Todd et al define a ‘tomb’ in the cemetery at Kalavassos for example, we can treat this is a piece of discrete information, much as we are treating an attested name as a discrete piece of information in the HGC (with its own URI, and the possibility of other URIs for “smaller” pieces of information, such as finds, with which it has a container relationship). But in the future we will consider what other attributes could be added to each of these, for example, relationships with modern features which might not have been documented at the time. Online images, and pieces of related data from the geoweb. Even social media elements. This will open up the possibility for more in-depth experimentation using GIS – for example investigating least-cost pathways between sites in the northern Vasilikos Valley with points of known importance on the south coast, and how the finds, features and pits of those sites might be used to enrich that analysis. We will also undertake a broader consideration of what this exercise tells us about the epistemology of archaeology, and its quantitative aspects, might mean. While it makes perfect sense for quantification to follow the ‘objectivity’ of the material involved – beginning with physical objects, with clearly defined sites, and obvious statements that can be made about their attributes – we are interested in where the affordances of the digital environment of a database might take us in terms of contextualising them with purely digital objects; and how this might help us mediate spatial narratives of Cyprus’s distant past.