|
Why did we choose to devote an issue of Open Museum Journal to
the theme of "Unsavoury Histories"? What issues did we hope
to uncover and bring out into the open so that they could be discussed?
The answers to these questions are evident in the articles we have been
able to publish. But before we outline some of those answers, it might
be useful to outline how we understood the concept of unsavoury history.
A good starting point might well be to elaborate its differences from
the more prevalent notion of contested histories. Contested history is
a concept that attempts to describe the fact that the meaning of an object,
collection, historical site and by extension history itself, is always
open to debate. Meanings are, by definition, always made rather than given,
and hence are open to discussion - to contestation. The notion of a contested
history therefore, is a notion of history that recognises the act of interpretation
and the importance of the role in constructing meaning of those doing
the interpretation. There is always a question of who is defining the
meaning of a given history and by extension, what other potential meanings
might be being left out or ignored. The notion of contested histories
then, is a notion that recognises the politics of history making.
The notion of unsavoury histories however, encompasses this politics
of history making as well as a sense that there are histories that are
difficult to tell. We are interested not only in making the rather obvious
point that interpretation is political, but in exploring why some aspects
of our past are harder to interpret than others. The relevance of such
a project is, we hope, clear to all. Australia is currently involved in
a process of redefining the kind of society it wants to be. Part of this
process is a re-imagining of the past, with fights over nomenclature -
that is meaning. Examples of words or expressions that currently generate
debate are settlement, invasion, stolen generation, dispossession, black
armband history, genocide, pioneers, tradition. At one level this is the
notion of contested history. At another level though, these debates involve
questions about the very possibility of exploring past acts, governmental
processes or ways of thinking. These are questions that bring into sharp
relief our ability as a society to come to terms with the past and move
on. While the issue of reconciliation is perhaps the most salient one,
it is also one of the most difficult issues to discuss. Interestingly,
none of the papers address it directly.
Why then, are difficult or unsavoury histories difficult to discuss,
to bring out into the open? There are some answers to this question in
the papers brought together in this issue of the Open Museum Journal.
As Jennifer Garton-Smith points out, our notion of heritage tends towards
celebrational representations of the past. Such representations tend to
focus either on those aspects of the past which either make it a homely
place, full of nostalgia and romance or, by contrast, a place full of
horrors from which we have 'moved on'. The past is separated from the
present. This means that it is difficult to create a space in which in
which the past can be fully explored or challenged and its relevance to
present concerns teased out.
These are issues, we suggest, which underlie many of the discussion presented
by our contributors. Carolyn Strange's essay on the new interpretation
centre at Port Arthur for example, raises a number of questions about
the impact of the physical site on the possibilities of interpreting a
history of Port Arthur that moves beyond a focus on Port Arthur as an
example of hell on earth. Embedded in her discussions of the new interpretation
centre is a suggestion that the pastoral nature of this site and the ruined
state of most of the buildings make it difficult to move beyond a romanticised
interpretation. While the new interpretation centre is applauded for making
an attempt, the suggestion is that, ultimately, this attempt failed precisely
because the 'difficult' or 'unsavoury' aspects of life at Port Arthur
are not explored in any sustained way. Rather than historical explanation
we are presented with, amongst other interpretation devices, a game called
the Lottery of Life which has the effect of hiding the issues of economic,
sexual and political exploitation of labour.
The extent of the problem raised by public expectations that heritage
should be 'nice' is perhaps more fully engaged with by Pat Cook in his
description of recent attempts to re-interpret the past at Kilmainham
Gaol in Dublin. As he points out, curators have a very difficult job to
do when they are charged with interpreting unsavoury pasts. They have
to deal not only with dominant ideologies and received ideas, they also
have to deal with the emotional reaction to challenges to these ideas.
At issue in the notion of unsavoury history then, is the question of how
to approach the interpretation of unsavoury pasts in ways that do not
alienate the audience. Cook himself has a number of suggestions to make
in this regard. They range from the use of art projects to open up interpretation
and connect historical sites to the present, to the need for exhibitions
to explain and provoke emotional reactions while providing the means to
use the energy so released for reflective ends. Curators, he suggests,
have a responsibility to try to do these things.
Amongst the richness of Cook's contribution is the idea that the physical
nature of a historical site like a prison is a resource that can be usefully
deployed by curators working on interpreting the unsavoury aspects of
our past. This is a claim of some interest because it connects Cook's
essay in very interesting ways to all of the other essays. We have already
pointed out how Strange's essay on Port Arthur raised questions about
the difficulty posed by ruins for the interpretation of the past. Garton-Smith's
contribution goes further, arguing that it is the very physicality of
a site like a prison that prevents more adventurous modes of interpretation.
Cook, by contrast, argues the exact opposite. Kilmainhman Gaol is significant
because it is the one site, or "place" which is significant
to both the nationalist and the republican traditions. It is the physical
existence of this space that provides him as its curator with the resources
to produce a history that challenges received ideas on both sides of the
political spectrum.
The theme of the role of the physical site is one which is also of relevance
to more conventional museum displays, as Naomi Stead's contribution makes
clear. In her discussion of the new Holocaust Museum in Berlin, she points
out how the shell of the museum, the building itself, is part of the interpretation
strategy. As yet, there are no displays in this museum. But already there
is an interpretation of a defining unsavoury history, that of the holocaust.
According to Stead, the interpretation that has been chosen is one that
encourages reflection and a critical rather than just emotional attitude
towards the past. Like Cook, Stead is also interested in exploring how
museums can use emotional responses towards the development of a more
reflexive encounter with the past. For her, the physical experience of
space is one of the elements which needs to be taken into account.
This is an argument which resonates with at least one of the editors
who has written elsewhere (Witcomb 2001) of the dangers for interpretation
of one way exhibition designs such as those presented at the Museum of
Tolerance in Los Angeles. For Witcomb, the physical experience of this
museum is one of being herded through a one way tunnel through a series
of dioramas that light up as groups of visitors walk past and then recede
into darkness. Like a film, one cannot go back, look again, compare one
diorama with the next. There is, to put it simply, no space for an intellectual
engagement, only an appeal to emotional reaction.
These are problems that are particularly pertinent to monuments and memorials.
Their very nature evokes an emotional response. The museum experience,
however, while also capable of an emotional response, should provide,
as Stead argues, a more "active and meaningful engagement with the
past". Historic sites that take the step beyond the memorial, as
Kilmainham Gaol does, also give the public the opportunity to question
their own beliefs and understandings.
This volume of Open Museum Journal also includes a new section
that we have named "Show and Tell". The contributions we have
included here have not been refereed. As the name of the section implies,
these are intended as short contributions which describe current work
in museums along the theme of the journal but which are not intended to
be analytical pieces. We would like to encourage our readers, particularly
those working in museums, to contribute "Show and Tell" pieces
as a way of communicating the range of work currently being undertaken
in museums and historic sites or simply to offer an insight or opinion.
We have also included, as is our policy, an article that does not address
the theme. While the Open Museum Journal seeks contributions around
a theme, it is also our policy to have a space for submissions that contribute
to discussion on museums. We hope other readers are encouraged to follow
suit and submit articles that address their own work and research interests.
Anne Brake and Andrea Witcomb
References
Witcomb, Andrea, 2001 (forthcoming) Reimagining the Museum: Beyond
the Mausoleum, Routledge, London.
|
