Theory at the Museum
Thanks to the Curatorial Research Group for constructive and sustained engagement with my presentation, Theory at the Museum, last week (Oct. 29th). Here’s a quick re-cap and a few thoughts about it all.
The presentation had two parts: We looked first at the case study of the famously controversial Canadian exhibition, Into the Heart of Africa, as an example of a flawed and ultimately failed attempt at translating critical, reflexive theory into a museum exhibition. Then we workshopped my developing ideas for a curatorial intervention at the Royal Ontario Museum (ROM), where Into the Heart of Africa showed two decades ago.
We read a short piece by Sharon Macdonald, which I chose because it communicates key ideas from the anthropology of museums literature, which is my home (so to speak). Macdonald makes the key point that any exhibition is implicitly theoretical, in that it reflects a particular way of viewing the world. What was unusual about Into the Heart of Africa, however, was its explicit attempt at translating academic theory – in this case, critical reflexive museology, or what is sometimes called “new museology” – into display. Critical museology focuses our attention on museum collections, histories and practices. Into the Heart of Africa attempted to explore colonial collecting, Western ways of viewing Africa, and life histories of artifacts, as well as to critically evaluate Canadian complicity with empire and colonization. Without giving away the whole story (read the ethnography!), lets just say that the result was a politically ambiguous exhibition, marked especially by its insensitive use of irony.
We glanced at related exhibitions, such as Miscast in South Africa, and nodded in the direction of Fred Wilson, whose museum interventions point, for me, to more empowering possibilities of irony. We scanned the “ROM-scape” today, which holds exciting potential due to a number of exhibitions that resonate with African and African-Canadian identities.
The presentation forced me to clarify some ideas about my goals for my intervention. These include aiming to:
• Engage a diverse audience
• Link the past and present
• Respond constructively to the legacy of alienation
• Promote reflection on social inclusion and exclusion
I presented two “trajectories” of possible intervention, one that would take place only in the ROM’s Canadian gallery and a second that would lead visitors on routes throughout the museum, making connections between various place-centered galleries (Canada, Africa, Egypt) as well as the ICC, the contemporary gallery on the top floor of the Crystal.
I had been stuck at a problem relating to the process of developing this intervention. As mentioned in previous meetings, Erica and I are editing a book called Curatorial Dreams: Critics Imagine Exhibitions, and my ROM piece is a part of this project. In other words, this is an imaginary intervention – at least for the moment. I am deeply concerned about the problem of assuming curatorial authority and re-enacting paternalism, especially given the legacy of Into the Heart of Africa. I had settled on a model, which I call a curatorial collective, as a way of working that could avoid the paternalism that is often enacted by more common community consultation models. I envisioned a curatorial collective – made up mostly of Toronto-based academics and cultural producers engaged with issues similar to mine. In fact, my work has been inspired by many of them, including Rinaldo Walcott, Lawrence Hill, Eva Mackey, and the list goes on. I envision a collective effort at mounting a kind of “platform”[1] to which visitors can respond and have their voices become a visible part of the exhibition. More concretely, I am attached to the idea of postcards (I love their materiality, and Erica Lehrer has used them to good effect in her own cultural intervention project) that exhibit-visitors could create themselves, using images related to the theme of inclusion and exclusion. People could respond to open-ended questions about their perceptions and experiences by writing on the cards, which could be left on display and later mailed back to contributors’ homes. But how could I develop these ideas without a curatorial collective? And how could I invite people to join a curatorial collective that was creating only an imaginary exhibition? Well, the curatorial group convinced me that people would be interested in joining the process now. This got me off the fence and I’m thankful for that. Also, thanks to Monica Patterson’s comment about the “magic of three” as a curatorial strategy that adds nuance to the more commonplace one of juxtaposing two images or texts, which risks setting up binaries and forcing side-taking.
What I like about these curatorial group discussions is their cumulative effect. I find myself thinking about our past discussions and I see we are often confronting similar issues, whether about the tone of an exhibition, available technologies, the sense of openness or exclusivity, or the ability to engage visitors in generating exhibit materials. It is not that we have to all be the same – far from it – but we are building a common language for discussing these matters.
Finally, it was quite thrilling for me to have a powerpoint presentation and digital film all working well during the workshop. For those of us over a certain age, these things can be intimidating. But it is so important to the process of “curatorial dreaming” to start thinking more visually; and maybe next time I’ll also bring a play list! Many thanks to Prem Sooriyakumar for his excellent real-time web-link-sleuthing during the workshop.
[Back] 1. This term is inspired by an article by Nina Simon, “Discourse in the Blogosphere: What Museums Can Learn from Web 2.0” (Museums and Social Issues, vo.2, no 2, fall 2007, 257-274). Web 2.0 is described as a “platform provider” rather than a content provider. Users develop and organize content, which is always changing. Thus, I’m talking about a metaphoric platform, a site where museum visitors (via their postcard work, for instance) contribute to the exhibition intervention.
Post by Shelley Butler.
