Showing posts with label Erika Robertson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Erika Robertson. Show all posts

5 April 2017

SO YOU WANT TO BRING FOOD INTO THE MUSEUM

A MUSE BOUCHE

BY: ERIKA ROBERTSON

If this column has been successful, I've convinced you that food is an exciting, emerging topic in the museum world. Before you turn your exhibit into the Museum of Ice Cream, I want to leave you with a few pros and cons. Food is a serious conservation concern for collections, but you can use food connections outside the exhibit space as a revenue stream and to connect with audiences.

 
Sprinkle pool, shudder. Source.

Once you start seeing through the lens of food, the connections are everywhere. The introduction to Levent and Mihalache's new book, Food and Museums (2017) states that “museums are looking into their collections for food objects, refocusing institutional mandates and curatorial practice to craft narratives through food”(p. 1).  If that isn't convincing, check out Elsa Vogts' challenging approach to the edible museum. Food is everywhere.

However, museum professionals need to be thoughtful about the risks such experiments present to  collections. For example, acidic wines pose a chemical threat to objects: it can stain or cause metals to degrade. Even the soda isn't splashed directly on the painting, it can still attract pests like ants and mice, that will leave a trail of artifact dust behind. Those "No Food or Drinks" signs are serious preventative conservation policies. The collections manager is trying to protect material culture for future generations. When they put their foot down, don't despair! Moving the edible components out of the galleries is an opportunity for new audiences and revenue.

 Cringing intensifies. Source.

 For my last article as a Musings contributor, I interviewed Shanlon Gilbert and Brenna Pladsen about their recent exhibition project fundraiser. Their mobile app about the Halifax Explosion is "exploding the museum," to steal Shanlon's pun. So it's fitting that their fundraiser took their project beyond museum walls. Selling garlic fingers with donair sauce raised revenue and created opportunities to talk to publics about their project. But I'll let them tell you.
Brenna kneads the dough for garlic fingers. Photo credit: Shanlon Gilbert

Can you briefly describe your exhibition project for those who aren’t familiar with it?
We are working on a mobile app about the Halifax Explosion called “Echoes of the Explosion.” Shanlon has created six composite characters using archival sources, news clippings, and oral histories. Each character represents different communities in Halifax at the time in order to provide a more complex view of the disaster. Brenna has created portraits and colour schemes for the characters, and designed the look and feel of the app. The characters take users on a walk through downtown Halifax, gradually remembering the events of December 6th, 1917. The audio experience is expanded on by archival materials and extra information in “footnotes” on-screen.
Why did you choose to make garlic fingers and donair sauce?
Brenna: Garlic fingers and donair sauce is a nostalgic dish for many Haligonians. It’s a traditional comfort food for a late night and we hoped to tap into fond remembrances from any transplants or King’s/Dalhousie grads. And it worked!
Shanlon: One woman was so happy to see garlic fingers she was almost in tears. We met a few Nova Scotians through the garlic finger fundraiser!
Brenna: Also, given that all the other bake sales have been primarily sweets (cakes, cookies, etc.) we thought it would be a nice change to have something savoury.
Shanlon: And garlic fingers are much easier to make than donair.
Did you reach your funding goals?
Brenna: We had a very successful recipe card sale during Christmas. The recipes were all traditional maritime holiday dishes, and cards are 100% gluten-free and vegan, so they sold well.
Shanlon: The cards are gluten-free and vegan, not the recipes--although you could alter most of them to be. Maybe not rappie pie though…
Brenna: In comparison, anything looks lackluster. All of this is to say we weren’t sure how well the garlic fingers would go over so we aimed to cover costs of the ingredients and some misc. costs we’d accrued. We hit that goal and exceeded it! We can’t thank the extra generous people that helped us get there enough.
What parts were challenging?
Brenna: Turns out that a very very garlicy food was not the best item to try and sell right before class. We got the impression that people didn’t want to bring such an odorous food into the classroom. Also, given how regional it is, we did have to explain what garlic fingers are.
Shanlon: The snowy weather that day didn’t help either. And some people were lactose intolerant or gluten-free and couldn’t have them even if they wanted. The were fun to make, although it took a while as we only had one pizza pan. And Brenna had to put up with me singing maritimey songs the whole time.
Garlic fingers, ready for tasting. (They were delicious.) Photo credit: Brenna Pladsen
 Would you recommend this strategy to future exhibition project teams?
Brenna: There is also a food culture in Nova Scotia that maps well onto our context; buttery, fatty, and salty carbs have a wide appeal.
Shanlon: It’s cold out there. You need food that sticks to your ribs. Mostly potatoes and fish.
Brenna: More importantly our project revolves around emotional connections. Sound and food are both mediums that connect people emotionally, so it made sense to use food to fundraise. Our garlic finger sale also worked as a PR tool. Apparently donair sauce brings all the Maritimers out of the woodwork, and hopefully they’re remember us when they’re back on the East Coast.
Shanlon: So we can’t specifically recommend garlic fingers to future projects, but food certainly has powerful affective associations to leverage. I would caution that food is a difficult fundraiser to coordinate, to deliver safely, and can be difficult because there are so many allergies and sensitivities to be aware of. If you’re going to fundraise with food be sure it’s connected to your project in a significant way.
Any key lessons if you were to do this again?
Brenna:
  1. Don’t forget to factor in leftovers when costing, there will be leftovers. (I has ~ 1/3 of the leftover garlic fingers in my freezer, although they are rapidly immigrating to my stomach).
  2. Advertise when/what you’re doing online and onsite. We more aggressively promoted the cards on campus and in our networks and saw much better returns.
I will help you with those leftovers, Brenna. Source.
Shanlon:
  1. Arrange with profs to make class visits with your food if you can. The lobby is busy but mostly people just want to get to the elevators/class. Plus the middle of class is when people get hungry and tired and their willpower is depleted…
  2. Don’t be afraid to sell to people! A lot of people didn’t know what garlic fingers are and responded positively when we greeted them and told them stories about garlic fingers and late nights at pizza corner or on the Commons. 
If you're in Halifax this summer, I hope you listen to the incredible "Echoes of the Explosion." It's been a treat to see this project develop.
Thus concludes my last article for Musings. It has been an honour to associate with my fellow contributors and museum professionals. I hope to keep in touch as the Masters of Museum Studies class of 2017 moves from the iSchool into the world! Look for me in the Seattle, where I will keep snacking my way through all the incredible museums.

POTLUCK TORONTO STORIES

TORONTO STORIES

STORIES BY: JASMINE FISHER, REBECCA JACKSON, JOCELYN KENT, STEPHANIE READ, ERIKA ROBERTSON

COMPILED BY: BRENNA PLADSEN

The series of digital stories about Toronto history and culture which make up this project are the work of fifty-three Master of Museum Studies (MMSt) graduate students. The project was inspired by the 2015 Myseum Intersections – Telling Toronto’s Stories and invited each storyteller to select an object from local collections which has significance to Toronto’s past and present. The objects inspired the authors to connect historical events with contemporary context so that they tell stories about the multiple intersections that happen in the city.

Musings will be posting collected stories once a cycle. We hope that, after reading the stories, you will know Toronto a little bit better. And perhaps you will find similar stories in your own objects!

Our partners for this project, to which we are extremely thankful, are:
While most of are partners had several objects from their collection researched and profiled, some of the institutions are represented through single objects. To finish off Toronto Stories 2017, we are pleased to present single serving stories from around Toronto. Some stories are from right next door, others are in private collections. Now, without further ado, stories from John M. Kelly Library, St. Mike’s College Archives, University of Toronto, a private collection of Russian artefacts, and the Multicultural Historical Society of Ontario.

THE BALL'S IN YOUR COURT: HANDBALL AND IRISH CATHOLICISM IN TORONTO


BY: JASMINE FISHER

What could a 115 year old ball have to do with Irish immigration into Canada? How can this small object be a powerful marker of the history of St. Michael’s College at the University of Toronto? This small leather handball tells a story about sports, religion, and Irish Catholic identity at one of the oldest institutions in Toronto. 

Leather handball c.1900, University of St. Michael’s College Archive.
Photo credit: Jasmine Fisher.
In the mid 1800s, an influx of Irish Catholic immigrants came to Canada in the wake of the Great Famine, bringing with them what would become a popular sport at St. Michael’s College, Gaelic handball.

Irish Catholic integration into the culture of the city was not easy. For example, a proper Catholic-centred postsecondary education was difficult because large institutions such as the University of Toronto was firmly Protestant. St Michael’s College School, founded in 1852, was one option for Catholics in Toronto. It was attended by many Irish Catholic students, but they did not offer University degrees, as their graduates would become part of the priesthood. This changed by 1906, when St. Michael’s College became an official part of the University of Toronto.

Despite this integration, St. Michael’s College was still seen as different from the rest of the University, so in-house sports teams evolved as a way to interact with other faculties. Eventually, the success of St. Michael’s College teams became a instance of pride for much of the Irish Catholic population in Toronto. 

University of St. Michael’s College Handball teams, group photo, 1905. 
Photo credit: University of St. Michael’s College Archive.
Hockey and football had a large following in Toronto, but Gaelic handball was also well known. Similar to squash, players must throw or hit a ball against the walls until one player misses. Rather than the tennis ball and racquet which are used in squash, Gaelic handball’s main equipment is a small leather ball and the players’ hands to hit it back and forth, as can be seen here. This leather handball, 4.5cm in diameter, found in the University of St. Michael’s College Archive dates to c.1900, and it was part of a thriving tradition of both formal and informal teams.

This ball is a perfect example of the sporting equipment used during the early years of St. Michael’s College’s integration into the University of Toronto. The sport is still played today using a small synthetic ball rather than leather, and it even has several official leagues in Ireland.

Leather handball c.1900, University of St. Michael’s College Archive.
Photo credit: Jasmine Fisher.
This leather handball represents the development of a sports culture and the popularity of a quintessential Irish sport at St. Michael’s College, and thus the intersection of Irish culture grounded in Catholicism and the traditionally Protestant education system of Toronto. If such a small, everyday piece of sports equipment can represent such an important cultural connection, what stories can be found in the hockey pucks and soccer balls used by people in today’s Toronto?

Works cited
Wamsley, K. B. and D. P. Ryan. (2008). The Fighting Irish of Toronto: Sport and Irish Catholic Identity at St. Michael’s College, 1906-1916. In P. Darby and D. Hassan (Eds), Emigrant Players: Sport and the Irish Diaspora (163-181). London: Routledge.
Google books link: https://books.google.ca/books?id=Bb6MAQAAQBAJ&pg=PA180&lpg=PA180&dq=university+of+st+michaels+college+irish&source=bl&ots=3tPyu1PDPO&sig=vPuY6QdjudfDMwn56MJHXEqP6go&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0CGYQ6AEwC2oVChMI7raBhoPSyAIVw2w-Ch3-AgxO#v=onepage&q&f=false

NOSTALGIA, CHILDHOOD, AND THE PAPAL VISIT


BY: REBECCA JACKSON

Ciboria from St. Michael’s University Archives.
Photo Credit: Rebecca Jackson
The University of St. Michael’s College (USMC) archives, at the University of Toronto, houses two ciboria from the 1984 Papal Visit. These two ciboria were donated to USCM by the Archdiocese of Toronto. The photo here tells us that these ciboria were prepared for the Papal Visit by students in the Archdiocese of Toronto. A ciborium is a metal cup or container used to hold and distribute the Eucharist, the bread that Catholics believe to be the body of Christ, during Mass. Often, ciboria are quite ornate and have lids. While there is no official record of how or where the USCM ciboria were used, I would speculate that these were used at the Mass at Downsview during the Papal Visit of 1984 which drew a crowd of thousands.

Some of you may know that 1984 was the first time a pope visited Canada. The late John Paul II, the only pope to visit Canada, came to Toronto twice on this thirteen-city marathon that spanned from coast to coast.

Much telling footage of the Papal Visit is preserved at the CBC digital archives. This material is worth a peek even if just for a reminder of some fantastic fashion from the eighties. During the first week of the visit, over 13.5 million Canadians tuned in to listen to CBC’s radio coverage of the Papal Visit. Some said the Papal Mass at Downsview, an area in northern Toronto, was the largest gathering of people in Canada to date! The archives reveal that John Paul II arrived at the Mass in a Canadian forces helicopter, like the one pictured here, to find a gathering of nearly half a million people. You can see the crowds for yourself on this CBC broadcast.

The USMC ciboria provide a window into this significant event in Toronto’s history. Events like these are often reported and remembered on a grand scale. These ciboria let us look at a smaller part of this grand event. Imagining a smaller community, like a school, and how it prepared for the Papal Visit can bring it closer to home. Do you remember the bustle and excitement when your school got involved in something like an Olympics, festival or parade? You can read one blogger’s recollection of the exciting event to gain some insight into what this might have meant to the kids who prepared these ciboria.

A moment in a city’s history that brings together so many people is worth remembering. Equally important are all the small moments that helped this event happen. So what do you think? Are you hoping Pope Francis I comes to Canada?

A big thank you to the University of St. Michael’s College Archive for their help and access to their collection.

Works Cited

Archives of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Toronto. 30 years since the first Papal Visit [Web log], Retrieved from http://archives-archtoronto.blogspot.ca/2014/10/30-years-since-first-papal-visit.html

CBC Digital Archives. (1984) Pope’s First Visit. Retrieved from http://www.cbc.ca/player/News/CBC+75th+vignettes/ID/2157160111/

CityPulse Tonight. (1984, September 14) Rewind [Television broadcast]. Toronto, Canada: CityNews. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O21rufR-tOc

Dmytrenko, K. (2014, September 11). A meeting of Saints in Midland. Retrieved from http://archdioceseoftoronto.blogspot.ca/2014/09/a-meeting-of-saints-in-midland.html

News Staff. (2013, March 6). REWIND: Papal election stirs memories of John Paul II visits to Toronto. City News. Retrieved from http://www.citynews.ca/2013/03/06/rewind-papal-election-stirs-memories-of-john-paul- ii-visits-to-toronto/

Stewart, B. (Reporter). (1984, September 21). The National [Television broadcast]. Toronto, ON, Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. Retrieved from http://www.cbc.ca/archives/entry/papal-tour-wraps-up

BREAKING THE ICE WITH A SHARED HOCKEY HERITAGE


BY: JOCELYN KENT

When Luba’s west-end Toronto neighbourhood announced that its annual Solstice Party would be retro themed, she was at a loss as to what to wear. When immigrating to Toronto from Russia in 1998, she and her family brought very little clothing with them. And of that, none of it was old enough to qualify as “retro.” So she pulled out her recently purchased hockey jersey, a replica of one worn in the 1970s by the Soviet Unions national team. 

Replica of hockey jersey worn by Vladislav Tretiak of
the former Soviet Union’s national team (Photo Credit: Jocelyn Kent)
Her outfit was an instant hit at the party.

Like many immigrants, Luba says, “I like to feel where I came from.” As such, she and her husband Yuri collect Russian objects. While the jersey evokes a period of their lives in the former Soviet Union, it also reminds them of the particular day in 2009 in Toronto when they bought it at a charity auction at the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto, hosted by the famous former Soviet goalie Vladislav Tretiak.

Whenever friends host parties to watch Team Canada play hockey, Yuri now proudly wears his red Soviet jersey, no matter whom Canada’s up against. And why wear any old Soviet jersey, when you can wear the jersey worn by Tretiak who countered shots attempted by some of Canada’s greatest players during his career? 

Detail of Tretiak’s name and autograph on reverse
(Photo Credit: Jocelyn Kent)
It’s a humorous jab at his friends’ confidence in the national team, reminding them that Canada’s hockey supremacy is not absolute. Despite sportswriters predicting an easy victory for Canada in the historic eight-game Summit Series with the Soviet Union in 1972, by the end of the tournament’s first game (Soviet Union 7 – Canada 3), it seemed Tretiak and the Soviets might give the Canadians a run for their money.

Tretiak’s skill as goaltender helped the Soviets force Canada to a suspenseful final game. As the tied last period waned, for the millions of Canadians anxiously glued to their televisions and radios in their school gymnasiums, offices and homes, he was the man to beat.

When Canada’s Paul Henderson scored the winning goal in the last minute of play against Tretiak, it became a never-to-be-forgotten moment of national triumph. It confirmed Canada’s self-image as a great hockey nation. To this day, the Summit Series remains etched in Canada’s collective consciousness.

Despite the loss, Tretiak became a hero across the Soviet Union and garnered the respect of Canadians as well. He went on to win three Olympic gold medals and eight world championships between 1972 and 1983. As Luba notes, in Canada, more than any other Soviet athlete or politician, “everyone knows him.” She and her husband feel proud wearing Tretiak’s jersey around other Canadians because he espouses sportsmanship and presents “a good image of Russia” to the world.

The Summit Series is part of the former Soviet Union and Canada’s shared heritage, as reactions to the jersey demonstrate. It is in an object from their homeland, surprisingly, that Luba and Yuri find common ground with their Canadian-born friends.

"THING-UNDER-THE-GLASS": A RUSSIAN TEA GLASS HOLDER AND ITS SOVIET ERA ORIGINS


BY: STEPHANIE READ

Tea drinking in Russia is an important daily ritual and has been for hundreds of years. Since the introduction of tea by Mongolian rulers to the Tsar Michael I in the early 17th century, it had become a staple in high society. In the late 18th century, tea was imported at such a rate from China that most Russians could enjoy a cup.

An intriguing element of Russian tea culture is the use of the podstakanniki, or glass holders. Tea in Russia is typically consumed from a slender cup that fits in the podstakannik, which literally translates to “thing under the glass” (‘pod’ = under; ‘stakan’=glass). It is usually made of silver or nickel-plated metal. The stability of this object, as opposed to narrow-based mugs or cups, led to its prevalent use in Russian trains as they were less likely to tip over. However, the podstakannik is predominantly used at home, sometimes alongside intricately-wrought tea kettles called samovars. The highly individual and beautifully decorated podstakanniki, the plural of podstakannik, demonstrate the importance of tea in Russian culture.

Podstakannik: View from the front of Yuri Dolgorukiy.
Source: Stephanie Read, 17 November 2015 

The owner of this podstakannik is a warm and friendly woman of Russian descent, who purchased it as a memento while studying and visiting her family in Moscow in the early 2000s. This vintage Soviet-era glass holder features whimsical acorns and foliage wrapping around its sides, framing a depiction of a sculpture of the founder of Moscow, Yuri Dolgorukiy. Dolgorukiy sits upon his horse in full armour, one arm outstretched out in a powerful stance.

Podstakannik: View from the side.
Source: Stephanie Read, 17 November 2015
During the Soviet era, many podstakanniki depicting important people and events in Russian history, such as Dolgorukiy and Sputnik’s launch, were sold as souvenirs in Moscow. Such podstakanniki of this time period were made in the Central Russian town of Kolchugino, about 170 kilometers northeast of Moscow. This glass holder would have been made sometime in the late 1950s or early 60s, as the statue of Yuri Dolgorukiy depicted on the front was raised in Moscow in 1954. It is interesting to see as decorations for such everyday objects some of the symbols of Soviet Union’s national identity. 

Statue of Yuri Dolgorukiy. 2008 Moscow Victory Day Parade.
Source: Vitaly V. Kuzmin, 3 May 2015
Luba, the owner of the object, has fond memories of travelling on the trains with her mother and using podstakanniki. In her home, each glass holder is of a different pattern and shape. They make for a pleasantly eclectic set such as many Canadians might have in the form of various souvenir, gift and prize coffee mugs.

Items like podstakanniki, samovars, teapots and other items for tea-making in Russia are ornate confections often depicting flowing organic shapes or complex geometric designs. They are associated with social occasions, and in Luba’s case, travelling in Russia with loved ones. This podstakannik bearing the image of the founder of Moscow is still used for tea-drinking and is a cherished souvenir of home. What is on your favourite tea or coffee cup?

Works Cited

Personal communication with Luba (did not want her last name to be known). Tuesday, November 17th, 2015

Personal communication with Egor Surahev (a Russian friend whose father collects antique podstakanniki) Thursday, November 19th, 2015

Encyclopedia of Contemporary Russian Culture. 2007. Eds. Tatiana Smorodinskaya; Karen Evans-Romaine; Helena Goscilo. Routledge: New York, NY. p. 611 of 693

Gaylard, Linda. 2015. The Tea Book. DK Publishing: New York, NY. p. 104-108 of 224Fodor’s Moscow and St. Petersburg. 2006. Eds. Christina Knight and Mary Beth Bohman. 7th Edition. Random House: Toronto, New York. p. 38

A WOMAN'S PLACE (IS WHEREVER SHE MAKES IT) 


BY: ERIKA ROBERTSON

Standing at the corner of Beverley and D’Arcy Streets, I admire the house Mrs. Csók and her husband owned in 1937. William Lyon Mackenzie King and his family lived here in 1893 while he attended the University of Toronto, but I’m here to honour a less famous life. I imagine the factory workers returning from their shifts at the Swift meat factory in the West Toronto Junction, exchanging a quarter for a hot bowl of Mrs. Csók’s homemade goulash and a pastry eighty years ago.

This historic mansion was Mrs. Csók’s Beverley restaurant.
Photo by Erika Robertson
Elizabeth Csók made her own place in Toronto through hard work and entrepreneurial spirit. Born in Hungary in 1905, at eighteen she fell in love with a Catholic man despite the disapproval of her Presbyterian family. When the Treaty of Trianon divided Hungary in 1920, Elizabeth’s family lost their home. Fifty years later, she told historian Carmela Patrias, “My parents have house and grapes on the other side. They put the stamps on the money. When they get the money to Hungary from Czechoslovakia, it worth nothing.” So at twenty-one, she boarded a ship bound for Canada, where she married her fiancé.

The Great Depression, illness, xenophobia, and language barriers kept Mr. Csók from finding a good job. Elizabeth’s options were also limited: employers often wouldn’t hire married women because they were considered unskilled and expected to raise children. Through ingenuity and hard work, she found a way to do both.

When the Csóks moved to Toronto with their two young daughters in 1937, they saw an opportunity: a Hungarian restaurant on the corner of Beverley and D’Arcy Streets. She recalled, “Very old people owned it and it was for sale and we buy it. All the money that we have. So we start working in that restaurant.” They simply called it the Beverley Restaurant.

Mrs. Buyer, the former owner and cook, taught Elizabeth how to run a business and how much meat to order from the Slovak butcher who spoke a little Hungarian. “Mrs. Buyer show me everything, how much, because I have no idea how to cook for that many people.” After a month, Elizabeth ran the kitchen with the help of another woman and a dishwasher from Quebec. Her husband, who had “no clue to do any cooking” and a waitress looked after the dining room. Forty years later, she remembered the Sunday menu with pride: homemade paprikash chicken, salads, coffee, and strudel for thirty-five cents.

Paprikash chicken. Photo by Kobako (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5),
via Wikimedia Commons
Before hearing Elizabeth Csók’s story, the brick houses of Baldwin Village were anonymous to me. Now, they remind me of an industrious woman who made a place for herself and her family in an inhospitable city. I find myself wondering whose histories occupy other buildings I pass on my way to school.

Discover more stories like hers from the Multicultural History Society of Ontario. MHSO has made a selection of its oral history collection available online. I’m thankful to the researchers at the City of Toronto Archives for their help locating the Beverley Restaurant.

Works Cited
Frager, R. A. & Patrias, C. (2005). Discounted Labour: Women Workers in Canada, 1870-1939.

Henderson, G. F. (1998) Chronology of Mackenzie King’s Life. In W.L. Mackenzie King: A Bibliography and Research Guide. Toronto, ON: University of Toronto Press.

MHSO & Patrias, C. (29 November 1976). “Hungarian Interview—Mrs. Csok” from 1956 Hungarian Memorial Oral History Project. Retrieved from http://multiculturalcanada.ca/node/22425

Patrias, C. (1994). Patriots and Proletarians: Politicizing Hungarian Immigrants in Interwar Canada. Montreal, QC: McGill-Queen’s University Press.

2 March 2017

EATING THE CITY: MOHAI IN SEATTLE, WA

A MUSE BOUCHE

BY: ERIKA ROBERTSON

Look, the logo even has a little spoon! Photo by Erika Robertson







I’ve been looking forward to talking about MOHAI’s temporary exhibition, Edible City, for months. MOHAI is a unique Seattle institution located in a beautiful park on South Lake Union. This exhibit about the city's food industry fit perfectly within the museum’s mandate. In fact, it’s in the title: Museum Of History And Industry. My friend Emily and I spent hours exploring the galleries, only stopping because we were hungry!

But wait, what's this? We're here to talk about food, but there's "no food or drink." Again conservation efforts clash with interpretive goals. Photo by Erika Robertson.

The exhibit began by locating the subject of food within the museum’s vision of innovation and diversity. Introductory panels and videos seem to claim ‘this is Seattle.’ When a video of Valerie Segrest, a member of the Muckleshoot Indian Tribe, discussed the importance of food sovereignty, it was rooted in both historical and contemporary issues. The Big Idea situated Seattle's cuisine as young and multicultural while staying true to local ingredients.

Looks like food won: this jacket is made from used hamburger wrappers with real French fries! I wonder how collections staff handle that challenge. By artist Dorothy Rissman. Photo by Erika Robertson.

My only critique is that the celebratory tone could have been more critical by addressing current issues that directly impact the museum’s audiences. According to the National Restaurant Association, 10% of America’s workforce is in the restaurant industry. That's 14.7 million employees. This labour, often performed by immigrants, is vital to Seattle's culture. It’s also undervalued, as shown by the resistance to a $15 minimum wage in Seattle. (For a time, I was one of those workers. It's not glamorous, but I wouldn't call it a low-skill job). That’s an example of a critical conversation that museums could facilitate.

The exhibit gives an overview of the food industry within a historical context: from harvesting and foraging, through processing, to serving. Considering how much ground it covers, Edible City has surprising depth through interactive elements. The online component offers many ways to become more informed and involved in food issues. Emily and I were both excited to make the “signature recipes” later. She loves to bake while I’m more into vegetables, and we both found recipes we wanted to try.


Emily enjoys her tomato soup and "South Lake Grilled Cheese." Photo by Erika Robertson.

After several hours, rumbling stomachs pulled Emily and I out of Edible City and into the South Lake Café. Like the exhibit, its menu celebrated local flavours with all their international influences. I couldn’t resist Tim’s thick-cut jalapeño potato chips, which brought me back to lunches shared with my mom when I was little. The café also features locally roasted espresso and beer from Pike Place and Fremont breweries (two of my favourites, incidentally).


What's "Cascade style" about jalepeño chips? Who cares, they're delicious. Photo by Erika Robertson.

In short, MOHAI’s Edible City hits the Venn diagram of my interests: Pacific Northwest, food, and museums. As LeVar Burton says, “but you don’t take my word for it.” Next week you’ll be able to hear what the hilarious hosts of Spilled Milk Podcast think of it.

Have you worked in the food industry? How would you like to see those experiences discussed in museums?

29 November 2016

WHAT IS A MUSEUM? COMMUNITY BUILDING, STORYTELLING, AND EATING WITH THE TORONTO WARD MUSEUM

A MUSE BOUCHE

BY: ERIKA ROBERTSON

The Toronto Ward Museum will challenge most of your perceptions of what a museum is. It has no walls, no collections, and no curator. But last Saturday, Founding Executive Director Gracia Dyer Jalea curated inspiring conversations about migration through food. As she said, “tonight the museum is here.”

I’m working with the Toronto Ward Museum and two Masters of Museum Studies colleagues, Anja Hamilton and Rachael Thiessen, on our exhibition-related project. We’re expanding the series of programs called Dishing Up Toronto. The most recent iteration was Importing a Taste of Home: a special event at the Pasquale Brothers Warehouse.


From right to left, we are: Anja Hamilton, Erika Robertson, and Rachael Thiessen.
Photo: Lisa Martin

On Saturday, folks gathered at the warehouse in Etobicoke to enjoy good food, good conversation, and good company. Highlights of the evening included Monk’s Head Cheese, which I learned was so named because of the a special tool used to slice off rounds, resembling a monk’s tonsure. I was also impressed by Collective Arts State of Mind session IPA. It hits the sweet spot between bland sessions and hit-you-over-the-head hoppy-ness. I highly recommend pairing it with truffle chips. As our hostess, Anna Maria Kalcevich said with a laugh, people are always happy around food, except at funerals.

I was very happy. Photo: Erika Robertson
The Pasquales spoiled their guests, but we weren’t there just to eat. The warehouse party served as a soft launch for my group’s blog project, dishinguptoronto.tumblr.com. Our goal is to create a platform for Torontonians from all walks to share their stories of migration through food. Over the next few weeks, you can find the stories we gathered at the event with photos of our lovely guests.

I captured as many stories as I could, but so many defied attempts at documentation. Even I was surprised by how food memories created the sudden sense of intimacy among strangers. I found common ground with an older man who enjoyed my home state’s wine country. Another woman discovered that we both felt comforted by the taste of spicy chai. When a museum is an event and its collections are experiences, perhaps we have to put aside the urge to preserve everything.


Two guests share stories from their relationships with the food industry.
Photo: Erika Robertson

Our project is an experiment for both social media and museums. Many cultural institutions use social media to promote their programs or share educational content, but few use it to gather and amplify new voices. We aim to foster a sense of belonging and community based on common experiences of moving, cooking, and eating. The Toronto Ward Museum is hoping that people like you (yes, you) will add your voice. We have a few questions on our submissions page to get the conversation flowing.

Do you use Tumblr? I’m new at it, so if you have any pointers, please share! You can tweet me @EphemeralErika using #DishingUpTO

26 October 2016

HAVE A CUP OF TEA: VOLUNTEERING AT FORT YORK NATIONAL HISTORIC SITE

A MUSE BOUCHE

BY: ERIKA ROBERTSON

Welcome to the fourth installment of A Muse Bouche, where I trace the many relationships between museums and food. After a wonderful summer of travel, I’m back in Toronto for my second year of Museum Studies. The Toronto cultural sector has amazing resources, especially experienced, knowledgeable, and passionate people. 

In September, I had the pleasure working in the kitchen at Fort York National Historic Site to help with the Farm to Fork On Common Ground festival. Fort York interprets dishes that have been served in the officers’ mess in the early 1800s. 

Bridget Wranich (right) and Melissa Beynon have mastered the art of teaching while cooking.
Photo by the author. 
My role for the day was assisting with the Heritage Apple Tart Making Workshop. Bridget Wranich, Program Officer, and Melissa Beynon provided visitors with a lesson on historic foodways through a short cooking class. We learned useful facts, like the difference between pies and tarts. It’s simple: tarts don’t have a crust on top. I found my biggest takeaways outside the workshop. I’ll share my top two and wrap up with a simple, historic Fall recipe.

White and blue porcelain teapot on a black background.
Never too busy for a cup of tea. Photo by the author.

Lesson 1: Hospitality first. 

As soon as I stepped back into the commercial kitchen, Bridget insisted that I make myself at home with a proper cup of black tea. Throughout the afternoon, staff and volunteers stepped into the kitchen for a warm-up and a chat. The simple ritual immediately made me feel like a member of the family. The people at Fort York know how to welcome volunteers and visitors alike.

Warning: It’s about to get very British in here. Source.

Lesson 2: Food doesn’t have to be complicated to be delicious. 

After the workshop, I followed the tantalizing smells over to the historic kitchen, where Emily Cooper was handing out samples of blackcaps. When she said the name, it sounded like some sort of mushroom dish to me. Nope!

A woman in early 19th century period dress serves slicees of baked apples from a piepan.
Definitely not mushrooms! Photo of historic interpreter Emily Cooper by the author.
Emily took whole apples, cored them, cut them in half, and placed them cut-side-down in a pie pan with lemon zest, lemon juice, orange flower water, and sugar. They baked in the bread oven until the skin crisped and the middle soaked up the aromatic citrus flavors. If you want to try baking blackcaps at home, follow the timeless wisdom of Hannah Glasse from The Art of Cookery Make Plain and Easy. Her best-selling cookbook in the 18th century have become favourites for historic cooks today. 

“Cut twelve large apples into Halves, and take out the Cores, place them on a thin Patty-pan, or Mazarine, as close together as they can lye, with the flat Side downwards, squeeze Lemon in, two spoonfuls of Orange-flower water, and pour over them; shred some Lemon-peel fine and throw over them, and grate fine Sugar all over; set them in a quick [hot] Oven, and Half an Hour will do them.  When you send them to Table throw fine sugar all over the dish.”
 
A warm thank you to everyone at the Fort, especially Bridget, for your hospitality! Everyone should volunteer at their local museum--you never know what you could learn. Halloween will find me back at the Fort for a spooky Lantern Tour. Hope to see some of you there.
Apples on cutting board
Autumn is definitely the best season for food... except for all the others. Photo by the author. 

Work cited:

Glasse, H. (1748). To make Black Caps. P. 168. In The art of cookery, made plain and easy; which far exceeds any thing of the kind ever yet published. 3rd ed. Gale. University of Toronto Libraries. Retrieved from: find.galegroup.com.myaccess.library.utoronto.ca/ecco/infomark.do?&source=gale&prodId=ECCO&userGroupName=utoronto_main&tabID=T001&docId=CW108061039&type=multipage&contentSet=ECCOArticles&version=1.0&docLevel=FASCIMILE

20 September 2016

BANNOCK FOR BRUNCH: SONGHEES SEAFOOD & STEAM, VICTORIA, BC

A MUSE BOUCHE

BY: ERIKA ROBERTSON

If you visit Victoria, BC, you should definitely check out the Royal BC Museum’s Food Truck Festival. Unless, like me, your ferry departs at 10am and the festival doesn’t open for another hour. 

Next summer for sure. Photo by the author.
Luckily, the Songhees Seafood & Steam was conveniently located by the dock. Fresh bannock with house-made blackberry preserves hit the spot. It paired especially well with Resilience of the People, an exhibit at the Robert Bateman Centre and produced in partnership with the Songhees Nation.

Songhees Seafood & Steam is a collaboration between Songhees Nation Chief Ron Sam, Clipper Navigation, Inc., and Victoria chef David Roger. Their mission is “Food + Culture + Community. And really, really good food.” (source).  

This food truck is more than meets the eye. Photo by the author.
The truck is part of a movement to reclaim indigenous foodways. In Minneapolis, Tatanka Truck is reclaiming “aboriginal tacos” by replacing the fry bread with locally-available corn cakes. Both trucks have a social responsibility: to offer restaurant education and jobs to aboriginal people. They’re also revitalizing indigenous foodways through experimentation and education.

I grabbed my food truck brunch and boarded the boat. The sweet, crispy mouthful brought a wave of memories.

As a kid growing up in the Northwest, picking blackberries was one of my chores. The berries on my morning bannock were definitely the sweet and plentiful Himalayan variety, not the seedier native species. Himalayan blackberries are invasive to British Columbia and Washington state, where they were introduced by Europeans, much like me. 


Can confirm: really good food. Photo by the author.
Years ago, when I was an undergrad working at the Museum of Anthropology at UBC, I fell into conversation with a Coast Salish carver. I can’t remember his name any more, but I remember the crinkle of his eyes when he smiled. At that age, I was in the first throes of white guilt. As a descendant of Scottish missionaries, I felt like I had no right to be there.

I must have seemed confused and apologetic because the man said something like, “You know bannock isn’t a First Nations word? The Scottish settlers recognized what we were making from their homeland.”  Fried carbs are a fairly global food, I thought. A lot of people find it comforting. His story bridged a divide for me. He revealed a history we had in common, in spite of historic and ongoing power imbalances.

A list of questions followed:

How did fry bread become associated with First Nations foodways?


According to Zoe Tennant, “originally a Scottish bread, brought here in the bellies of ships carrying fur traders and early settlers during the late eighteenth century, bannock—bannach in Scots Gaelic—was adopted and adapted by Indigenous nations across the country.” Read more of her interviews First Nations artists in Ontario here.

Where did the ingredients come from?

Some people call flour, milk, lard, salt, sugar, and baking powder the “five white gifts.” On reserves, they were government-issued survival foods. Find recipes and debate here.

What’s the difference between bannock and fry bread? 

I'm not sure, but the names might be regional. Or it may depend on whether the cook uses lard or not. If you know more, I'd love to hear from you. The Southern Foodways Alliance gives a perspective from “the Mississippi Band of Choctaw Indians” below:


The carver at MOA showed me what museums can create: an environment where hospitality and generosity can inspire curiosity and better understanding - a bit like sharing a meal. 
Whether you call it bannock or fry bread or avoid it altogether, it gave me an entry into the diverse experiences of indigenous people in North America.

If you have more to share, feel free to leave a comment or contact me. 

13 July 2016

CAN FOOD MAKE BETTER NEIGHBOURS? THE WING IN SEATTLE, WA

A MUSE BOUCHE

BY: ERIKA ROBERTSON

This week I’m showcasing the extraordinary museum where I work as a collections intern. Like every museum I’ve visited so far, the Wing Luke Museum of the Asian Pacific American Experience (the Wing for short) keeps food and drink out of the galleries. They don’t even offer a restaurant or café for hungry visitors! 

It turns out this is a intentional choice. The Wing staff think of themselves as ‘concierges’ to Seattle’s Chinatown-International District. Staff love recommending local restaurants (where they can often be found ordering their own lunches). Rather than competing with their neighbours, the Wing collaborates with local businesses to organize food tours. My mom and I had the pleasure of taking their “Not Just Tofu” tour together.

Mom, wait up! 
Photo by the author. 
From beginning to end, "Not Just Tofu" was about building empathy. Our guides, Doan and Jintana, asked us to introduce ourselves "before we eat a meal together." These brief introductions broke the ice. By the end of the first course, we felt comfortable bringing up difficult topics such as economic stresses facing the historic neighbourhood. Doan connected the museum's mission to foodways: both the Wing and food are ways to preserve and share stories. 

Doan pauses mid-story.
Photo by the author. 
So how was the food? In a word, amazing. Our "progressive dinner" began with Vietnamese-style lemongrass chili tofu from Chu Minh while Jintana shared historic images of the tofu-making process. Next, we enjoyed tea, eggplant in garlic sauce, and crispy tofu at Henry’s Taiwan Kitchen. Seoul Tofu had the greatest variety of flavours with its many banchan, or pickled side dishes. As our guide explained, the Korean American community is a relatively recent addition to Chinatown-International District. The dishes had been thoughtfully selected to weave together many flavours, experiences, and histories.

Henry's signature crispy tofu has a light, aromatic quality.
Photo by the author.
Somehow, we found room for three creamy shaved ices at Bambu. Doan said she felt more at home at this last stop, which offers wifi and caters to a younger generation. Our two-and-a-half hour dinner concluded with a gift. We were presented with lovely “Eat Sheets” with a list of more vegetarian dishes to try and unique recipe for each of us. Soon we were all sharing stories about our favourite recipes and what we wanted to cook next. 

Jintana enriches the Thai tea-flavoured shaved ice with history and culture.
 Photo by the author.

Food can be a delicious introduction to a neighbourhood. As an intern at the Wing, I’m proud that my host institution is taking a leading role in building relationships. Many people are joining the conversation and finding creative ways to encourage cross-cultural understanding. Three groups caught my eye because they’re using food to discuss immigration, place, and cultural identity in innovative ways:

1) The Museum of Food and Drink (MOFAD) in Brooklyn values the universal nature of eating: “Food is culture. It is more than simply what is on our plates: it is a common denominator of human relationships” Source. They have partnered with local restaurants to open conversations about immigrant chefs’ contributions to New York Source. 

2) Torontonians may have seen the Toronto Ward Museum’s new food tours featured in Huffington Post recently: “the Toronto Ward Museum has already begun to tell the city's local stories in an unconventional way—through food” Source.  You can learn about the experiences of Arlene and Leo Chan on their “Wok Through Chinatown” tour. Their goal is to introduce visitors to the stories of Chinese immigrants through food Source. 

3) Culinaria Research Centre at University of Toronto, Scarborough just launched their mobile app. Scarborough, A Little Taste (SALT) helps you navigate the stunning diversity in their city’s restaurant scene.  Source. If you want to try something new but you’re not sure where to start, they can point you in the right direction. Check it out here.

So find a food tour or try a new cuisine near you! If you’re in Seattle, check out the Wing’s upcoming Game Day BBQ tour. (Pro tip: museum staff encourage you to bring a container for leftovers.) Stay tuned next month to hear about changing perceptions of First Nations dishes as I bite into fry bread. 

15 June 2016

BEER WITH ALIENS: EMP MUSEUM IN SEATTLE, WA

A MUSE BOUCHE

BY: ERIKA ROBERTSON

My post today is part exhibit review, part restaurant review, and aims to answer the question: can I imagine an exhibit without food? (If you're not sure what I'm talking about, check out my first article). 

It's that sign again! Photo by Erika Robertson

I think any stay in Seattle should include a visit to the EMP Museum. I have fond memories of the EMP's music-focused exhibits on the Beatles and Nirvana, but its mission has expanded since I was little. Today it's dedicated to “the ideas and risk-taking that fuel contemporary popular culture” (source). It feels like the astonishing building, designed by starchitect Frank O. Gehry, houses miles of exhibits. They delve into such diverse subjects as video games, guitars, and horror movies. The centerpiece of the museum is the “Sky Church,” a concert venue by night and massive HD LED screen used to display music videos during the day. I overheard a visitor ask if it was a projector and a staff member responded, “It’s the real deal—only in Paul Allen’s museum!” This museum is a place to let your imagination run wild.

Sky Church: the real deal. Photo by Erika Robertson
 
But I was there for the blockbuster exhibit, “Star Trek: Exploring New Worlds.” I know as much about Star Trek as an average person, but I wondered if an exhibit about science fiction would involve food. The EMP also boasts an in-house restaurant called Pop. Would their menu be a continuation of the galleries?

Sextant used by Benjamin Sisko, captain of the Enterprise in Deep Space Nine. Photo by Erika Robertson
 
The exhibit presented Star Trek as a positive influence on society through its diverse cast and optimistic vision for the future. The first floor touched on each of the series and movies, which gave outsiders like me a good introduction to Star Trek culture. The second floor focused on how the franchise has inspired scientists and engineers to build the utopian vision of the future through hand-held communicators and voice-activated computers. But would there be food in the future?

After ogling the beautiful artifacts, I finally spotted food in the galleries. Not surprisingly, the hit franchise has inspired a lot of merchandise, including Cardassian cookbooks and Romulan ale. The drinks were available in the gift shop, but I wasn't brave enough to try them. I wish I could report on what Cardassians cook, but the only copy was behind glass. I had evidence that even science fiction exhibits include food. My curiosity partially satisfied, I headed to Pop for more substantial fare.

The restaurant itself looks a bit like a spaceship. Photo by Erika Robertson
 
Pop’s happy hour specials were delicious, if not topical. I enjoyed the Pop burger, but it did not deepen my appreciation for popular culture. Our fabulous server revealed that she was the genius behind the “rocktails,” or cocktails named after classic hits. I stuck to my local red ale, which I definitely recommend. Classic music videos played on overhead TV screens, extending Sky Church's impact. Music added to every part of the museum without being intrusive.

Pop is a Wolfgang Puck restaurant contracted to the EMP. Because the celebrity chef’s name is not on the sign, the location has more creative freedom. Our server was enthusiastic about an upcoming remodel and seasonal specials. Maybe next time I visit, Cardassian specialties will be on the menu.

If anyone has insights into alien cookbooks, let me know. I’m really curious now!

18 May 2016

COFFEE WITH A BOBCAT: TURTLE BAY EXPLORATION PARK IN REDDING, CA

A MUSE BOUCHE

BY: ERIKA ROBERTSON

Welcome to my new column exploring the intersection of food and museums! I’ll take a moment to explain my experiment. Museums and food have had a contentious relationship; exhibitions typically begin with signs like this:
Please respect the signs. Photo by Erika Robertson.
Curators and collections managers are protecting artifacts from ice cream fingerprints and the ants that follow. Yet in some ways, food belongs in museums because eating is a universal, and yet intensely cultural, personal, and emotional part of life. Many artifacts begin life as everyday tools for preparing, eating, or serving food. We can’t forget that museum audiences also need sustenance to absorb all those cultural experiences.

So it makes sense that museum folks are taking an interest in foodways. This emerging field brings together farmers, chefs, and people who eat to ask questions such as:
  •       Who’s working in the kitchen?
  •       Who’s around the table?
  •       What’s being served? Source.

My take on these questions will involve a lot of travel. This summer, follow me as I eat my way through museums in California, Washington, and British Columbia. This first article is an overview of some ways in which food influences interpretation, but later stories will explore an issue (or a meal) in greater depth.

This month I visited my little sister, Miranda, at Turtle Bay Exploration Park in Redding, California. The park includes botanical gardens, a museum, and Paul Bunyan’s Forest Camp. The little zoo specialized in native species, such as the turtles that give the area its name. Most importantly, they have a Coffee Bar!

 Museum, aquarium, coffee? Someone has their priorities right. Photo by Erika Robertson.
My exploration began in the permanent history exhibition, where I was surprised to find... food! The display asked me to pack supplies I would need for a gold panning expedition. The text reminds visitors, “How are you going to cook your food? How are you going to eat it?” The exhibit brought back happy hours spent playing Oregon Trail as a kid.

I don’t remember whiskey as an option back then.... Photo by Erika Robertson.
After touring the museum, I headed outside to Paul Bunyan’s Forest Camp, where Miranda and her fellow trainers were rehearsing their summer performance. According to my sister, the animals displayed their natural behaviors on cue because they expect a tasty reward. Of course these behaviours were all about finding food, a drive Homo sapiens share with all species.

That's my sister! Did you know bobcats jump to catch birds out of the air? Photo by Erika Robertson.
Watching the animals eat gave me an appetite, so I circled back to the coffee shop. As I munched on my turkey sub, I wondered about the relationship between food sales and Turtle Bay’s mission: “To inspire wonder, exploration, and appreciation of our world” (source). Some products are advertized as local or environmentally friendly, but I didn’t see a consistent message between retail, museum exhibitions, and Paul Bunyan Forest Camp.

Cute, but is it relevant? Photo by Erika Robertson.
Poking into Turtle Bay’s operations confirmed my theory: as an independent non-profit, sales of food, drinks, and merchandise account for 17% of their operating budget (source). Following the global financial crisis, the City of Redding removed their support in 2010 (source).The institution’s goal to “strengthen our financial stability” may mean remodelling the cafe (source).

So can I feel good about my food dollars helping Turtle Bay feed its animals, pay their staff, and expand? I look forward to hearing your thoughts.