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On November 17, 2007, the Canadian Art History class at the University of Western Ontario traveled to Toronto to view two institutions: the historical property of Mackenzie House, and the newly refurbished Royal Ontario Museum. What follows is a review of these institutions as they intersect with class discussions over the politics of collection and display.
Carol Duncan’s article “Art Museums and the Ritual of Citizenship” likens museums to the temple-like ceremonial structures of the classical era. She claims that although the truths presented at museological institutions are secular truths, they still follow a ritual set-up (Duncan 91). This ritual set-up is one that leads the visitors through a version of art history that ignores discussion of social and political conflict in favor of emphasizing the triumph and genius of individual historical figures (Duncan 92). The Mackenzie House in downtown Toronto can be productively analyzed by applying Duncan’s ritual model to it. As art historian Andrea Terry points out, the fact that William Lyon Mackenzie led the Upper-Canada Rebellion of 1837 to achieve governmental reform is discussed only minimally by the museum interpreter (Terry np). Instead, the docent’s script focuses on Mackenzie’s apolitical and less controversial achievements, such as his newspaper business and the fact that he held office as the first mayor of Toronto. Even the publicly insignificant achievements of his daughters, such as their embroideries, are highlighted over and above the details of the era’s political conflict within the country in general and the city of Toronto in specific. Mackenzie House exemplifies the description given by historians Richard Handler and William Saxton (1988) in their discussion of the way living historians tend to reject written historical accounts, such as the kind found in history books, instead relying heavily upon narratives they create themselves from the available facts. This is all done in order to create a seemingly authentic recreation of a period in the past that in fact relies more on the creation of a holistic historical experience in which all of the viewers’ senses are engaged than on the presentation of historical facts (243). At Mackenzie House, visitors have the opportunity to handle a specific, yet significant, number of objects. In the Mackenzie’s bedroom, for example, a selection of women’s clothing can be touched and even tried on. Throughout the house, demonstrations are carried out by the interpreters with a high degree of visitor involvement. In the basement, the interpreter shows the visitors how Mackenzie’s family would have lighted the gas lamps in their time. Although, visitors are not permitted to light the lamps themselves, they can still see and smell the impressive flames. In the print shop at the end of the tour, the docent allows an audience member to print his or her name using the printing press just as Mackenzie would have done in the past. At Mackenzie House, curators evidently put great care into the creation of a phenomenologically holistic experience for the visitor and as a result, historical content is minimized by the time spent playing with, examining, and operating the objects. Located on the first level, the Royal Ontario Museum’s (ROM) exhibits dealing with Canada and First Peoples, create an entirely different viewer experience. In one point of similarity, the layout of the ROM takes the visitor through its representation of an art history free from political and social conflict. However, the visitor’s experience lacks the sensual holism of the Mackenzie House. By contrast, sensations evoked by the at the ROM speak to Stephan F. Mills’ argument that the most importance is placed on what he calls the “tourist gaze” (that is, the aesthetic experience rather than historic experience) in open-air museums (83-5). Even though Mills references a particular type of institution, the ROM follows this model of the tourist gaze. Nearly everything in the museum, including the Canada and First Peoples exhibits, in addition to some exhibits that contain videos, are trapped behind glass or blocked off by ropes creating a ‘look, but don’t touch’ atmosphere. From 2003 to the present day, the municipal, provincial, and federal governments have invested large amounts of money in Toronto buildings with the hope of attracting increased tourism. Museums have played a major part in this change, with the appearance of their exteriors representing a key element of the attraction. These efforts hope to capitalize on the “Bilbao-effect” started by the construction of the Guggenheim Bilbao in Spain in 1997 that significantly aided the town’s economy (Jenkins, 170). This presence of monumental architecture attracts tourists because it appears as something worth seeing. The ROM’s previous classical temple façade has been transformed by the addition of a new design by Daniel Libeskind, dubbed “The Crystal,” due to the fact that it resembles a glass gemstone jutting out of the old classical façade. In comparison to grandeur of the exterior, the contents of the interior seem insignificant and frankly, nothing new. Thus, the emphasis on the modernity of the façade detracts from the very thing that it is museums are supposed to do: preserve the old. If the Libeskind addition to the ROM places its exterior design on a level with a number of other global museums, the interior of the institution nevertheless continues to contribute to certain narrowly defined notions of nationality. Museums have the power to construct the identities of its own communities through their layouts and what they choose to include or exclude from their collections. As stated by Carol Duncan: Indeed the ROM has a significant effect on how the identities of Canada’s heritage are represented in its Canada and First Peoples exhibits. Immediately noticeable is that artwork done by British and French artists depicting British and French subject matter fall under the enveloping category of 'Canada,' while work by, or even merely related to the Native and Inuit population in Canada, is categorized under the title of 'First Peoples.' The separation of these works is carried over into the museum’s layout by locating each on a different side of a rotunda, making the visitor walk through it in order to get to and from the two exhibitions. The side designated ‘Canada’ contains more academically-oriented paintings of figures in landscapes and portraits of the Quebecois by the likes of Cornelius Krieghoff. The First Peoples side focuses more heavily on artifacts as opposed to paintings, all contained in glass cases. These artifacts include canoes of many sizes, Native ceremonial masks, and Native and Inuit clothing. The small amount of imagery in this exhibit is made up of portraits of Natives Anglo-European painter by Paul Kane and other artists working in a similar style: namely, noble portraits of Native chiefs. In a small room off of the main area, Robert J. Flaherty’s documentary silent film Nanook of the North (1922) plays for anyone who wishes to see some of these artifacts in use. The “Canada” side projects a 'civilized,' almost European atmosphere, with its inclusion of artwork that follow the guidelines of the artists working in Europe. The 'First Peoples' side, on the other hand, is filled with artifacts that seem completely alien to the world across the rotunda. The fact that art and artifacts pertaining to First Nations peoples are not included under the name 'Canada' minimizes their contributions to the country. However, the fact that they are acknowledged seems enough for the ROM. The ROM houses two enormous totem poles that tower between the staircases leading to its different floors. In retaining these totem poles, the ROM appeared to me to have committed the same crime committed by many other major museums in the 1920s and 1930s; the appropriation of totem poles, without consent, from Native sites that appear to have been abandoned. Upon seeing these totem poles, the story portrayed in the film Totem: The Return of the G’psgolox Pole (2000), came rushing into my mind. This film tells the story of First Nations peoples’ attempts to take back a pole that was stolen from them by a major museum in Sweden. I wondered if the ROM had been approached by First Nations people who asked to have these poles returned to them, as had the groups who lobbied the Swedish museum. Questioning this, I read the plaque beside each and both said the same thing: “In partnership with the Nisga’a and Haida, the ROM is currently developing expanded labels to express the poles’ original cultural contexts” (ROM). My initial reaction to this note was skeptical. Would they carry through with these plans? Moreover, would the Natives consent to the museum keeping the poles and agree to help create a better context for them? According to the film Totem: The Return of the G’psgolox Pole, the mere preservation of totem poles is contested. Many Native peoples are uncomfortable with the inclusion of totem poles in museums due to a belief that the poles should not be preserved, but should return to the ground / Mother Earth as they naturally decay. Although the ROM professes its desire to accurately represent First Nations peoples, it appears as if their attempts are only half sincere. The writing on the plaque only states a seemingly empty promise without anything to show as far as concrete agreements between the Nisga’a and Haida peoples. Although I enjoyed Mackenzie House and the ROM, I feel that their attempts to create an authentic experience for the viewer paradoxically result in an inauthentic experience instead. Mackenzie House evokes a generic period piece representing the time rather than Mackenzie’s actual house. This tiny house has been packed with every artifact that people would have plausibly had in their houses in this era. As a result, each of these artifacts is described as things that 'might' have been in Mackenzie’s house, creating doubt in the viewer’s mind as to the level of accuracy achieved by this and other parts of the exhibition. Similarily, the ROM’s First Peoples exhibit uses visual codes of authenticity by including a reproduction of Frances Anne Hopkins’ Canoe Manned by Voyageurs Passing a Waterfall (1869), a well-known painting whose original resides elsewhere. The inauthenticity of this painting and its inclusion in the exhibit makes the visitor’s experience problematic because it promises things that are not there. The reproduction of Hopkins’ painting is displayed over the largest canoe in the room to show a similar one in use. The painting is not the original, nor is the canoe the original one used in the painting. The inclusion of the reproduction tries to validate the inclusion of the artifact, however the reproduction does the opposite in making the canoe appear reproduced as well. In my opinion, these attempts by Mackenzie House and the ROM to create authentic experiences for their visitors, although they appear to be sincere, actually create an experience that is misleading and inauthentic. Christina Cameron recounts how making historical sites accessible to tourists came to be an important issue in Canada in the 1960s (80). If Canada is going to present its historic sites, art, and artifacts to the world, it should be done properly with close attention to how much sway museums and similar institutions have over how these things represent Canada’s different identities. Since Toronto is an important Canadian city, it is therefore important that its museums properly represent the country. This means putting less emphasis on the artifacts and more emphasis on making sure that what is represented and the way in which it is done avoids misleading the visitor. Canada’s museums should not be afraid to bare the truths of this country’s history, should not be ashamed of its diverse identities, and should be proud to showcase the original artifacts (under circumstances in which the owners agree to their display). These changes in attitude are what would make visitor’s experiences in Canada’s museums truly authentic.
Works Cited Cameron, Christina. “The Spirit of Place: The Physical Memory of Canada.” Journal of Canadian Studies 35:3 (Spring 2000): 77 – 94. Duncan, Carol. “Art Museums and the Ritual of Citizenship.” Exhibiting Cultures: The Poetics and Politics of Museum Display. Eds. Ivan Karp and Steven Lavine. Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1991: 88 – 103. Handler, Richard and William Saxton. “Dyssimulation: Reflexivity, Narrative, and the Quest for Authenticity in ‘Living History’”. Cultural Anthropology 3.3 (August 1988): 242 – 260. Jenkins, Barbara. “Toronto’s Cultural Renaissance.” Canadian Journal of Communication 30 (2005): 169-86. Mills, Stephan. “Open Air Museums and the Tourist Gaze.” Visual Culture and Tourism. Terry, Andrea. Guest Lecture, University of Western Ontario, November 13, 2007.
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