PRINCE ALBERT & HENRY COLE: WHAT'S SO GREAT ABOUT THE GREAT EXHIBITION?

WALK OF FAME

BY: SERENA YPELAAR

Hi, Musings readers! This is my penultimate post for the blog (!!!). Reflecting on my MMSt journey and all that I've learned about what museums were, what they are, and where they are going, I wanted to take this final Walk of Fame back to one of the earlier iterations of museums: The Great Exhibition.

The Great Exhibition of the Works of Industry of All Nations was an international exhibition organized by Prince Albert, prince consort of Queen Victoria, and Henry Cole. Their intention was to showcase British imperial prosperity and the might of the Industrial Revolution by exhibiting manufactured goods. Exhibitions comprised the display of raw materials and their manufactured counterparts, which of course included resources and products from overseas. The Great Exhibition was housed in the Crystal Palace in Hyde Park, built specifically for the event. It took place between May 1st and October 15th, 1851.

Crystal Palace in Hyde Park, from Dickinson's Comprehensive Images of the Great Exhibition of 1851. Source.

At this point you may be wondering, "why are you using your final post to talk about two Victorian white men who created the Great Exhibition?"

In short, I'd like to use the Great Exhibition to explore the colonial origins of museums. How can we respond to these early conventions to operate modern museums that serve their diverse and multicultural communities, especially in a place like Canada? The two individuals below represent members of a hierarchical society that don't necessarily make up the visitor population today, but their work can inform what we do.


Henry Cole

Henry Cole.
Source.

An inventor and British civil servant, Henry Cole (1808-1882) sought support for the exhibitions through his involvement with the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce (RSA). He was dedicated to improving the standards of industrial design, and ultimately secured Prince Albert's patronage for exhibitions on art manufactures between 1847 and 1849.

After visiting the 11th Quinquennial Paris Exhibition in 1849, Cole aspired to expand the RSA's planned exhibitions for 1850 and 1851 to international participants, so in 1850 he obtained Queen Victoria's backing to establish the Royal Commission for the Exhibition of 1851.

Cole's dedication to artistic and scientific pursuits led to his creation of what's considered the first commercial Christmas card, in 1843. He was adamant that the Great Exhibition's profits be allocated to the purchase of land for the South Kensington Museum, of which Cole was the first director. Established in 1852, the museum is now the Victoria & Albert Museum, and has a Henry Cole wing.


Prince Albert 

Prince Albert, c. 1848. Source.

Prince Albert (1819-1861)'s role in the Great Exhibition reflects his class in relation to Cole; while Cole and the RSA were the mobilizing force behind the Exhibition, the Prince Consort was enthusiastic in his support of it.

Prince Albert was lauded as the mastermind of the Exhibition, and his vision resulted in the profit of the showcase, bringing in £186,000. It was by Prince Albert's decree that the funds be used to “increase the means of industrial education and extend the influence of science and art upon productive industry”, ultimately contributing to the creation of what is now known as the V&A.

Beyond the Royal Family, who visited the Exhibition three times, prominent Britons at the time also made appearances, such as Charles Darwin, Charlotte Brontë, Lewis Carroll, Charles Dickens, George Eliot, and Alfred, Lord Tennyson. Though other individuals such as Karl Marx disapproved of the Exhibition for sensationalizing capitalism, six million people visited in total.


What does remembering the Great Exhibition mean for us today?

Countries from the world could exhibit their industrial accomplishments, but the Great Exhibition was primarily intended to prove British superiority. As a colonial engine, therefore, the Exhibition is an example of how museums and their exhibitions can perpetuate a hegemonic agenda.

Nevertheless, we don't have to resign ourselves to this prospect. Rather, we know that through conscious and responsible interpretation we can subvert and overturn these notions of superiority - whether by class, race, gender, sexual orientation, or culture - and aspire to capture empathetic responses to the human experience.

Rather than exhibiting differences in a way that creates hierarchies, we can celebrate those differences and learn from them with a positive vision. That's my hope for the general direction of museums today, and in the future - but as museum professionals we're responsible to go beyond hope and create change through action.

Thank you all for coming on this Walk of Fame with me all term. Going forward, I hope we don't simply dismiss the past as something irrelevant to us, but instead examine it in a way that serves our commitment to progress today.

A PAINT-STAKING PORTRAYAL: PAINTINGS AS HISTORICAL ARTIFACTS

THROWBACK THURSDAY

BY: SERENA YPELAAR

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about historical paintings and the question of accuracy. Whether I’m looking at famous portraits to picture what prominent figures looked like, or trying to imagine historical battles that took place before the advent of photography, historical paintings play a prominent role in visualizing history. 

As sources, paintings can certainly tell us a lot about a historical event or figure, but they also do a lot more than that: they communicate the values and ideals of any given time period in which a work was created.

Because the topic of historical paintings is unwieldly at best, I’ve decided to confine my examples to some early colonial paintings in Canada. Given that my undergraduate research focused on British and French colonialism from 1600 to 1830, I will explore the topic through the lens of early Canada. One of my favourite paintings of all time is The Death of General Wolfe (1770) by Benjamin West; not because I think it’s particularly accurate, but because it raises so many fascinating issues. 

The Death of General Wolfe by Benjamin West is a spectacular example of a sensationalized battle scene that raises more questions than it answers. Source. 

West’s 1770 painting depicts Major General James Wolfe dying at the Battle of the Plains of Abraham in 1759. Even without being an art history expert, I can recognize that West presents an idealized aesthetic of the scene, one that sensationalizes the battle and its outcome. The cost of a hard-won victory against a vastly larger French army (led by Louis-Joseph de Montcalm), Wolfe’s tragic death has been mythologized throughout the centuries.

The dramatic depiction of Wolfe as a fallen Christ-like figure, surrounded by onlookers, conveys the grandeur of the Neoclassical movement. West declared his own process in depicting the historical scene: “It must exhibit the event in a way to excite awe & veneration … all should be proportioned to the highest idea conceived of the Hero … A mere matter of fact will never produce this effect.”

West’s painting is laid out similarly to the Lamentation over the Dead Christ, painted by Anthony van Dyck c. 1630s. Since art is a form of interpretation and is constructed according to artistic conventions, additional context is relevant to visitors when situating the work in a history museum. Source.

Since artistic depictions of historical events take some license when constructing the scene, observing The Death of General Wolfe as a historical artifact prompts so many questions: What is happening here? Who are all these people? Who is the indigenous warrior at the bottom of the frame, and why is he depicted that way?

Asking these questions suggests missing context that could supplement the artwork with written interpretation in a history museum. At present, the Benjamin West painting hangs in the National Gallery of Canada, but if it were on display in the Canadian War Museum, for example, how would its significance differ? Arguably, the purpose of the artwork as a source changes when the object is placed in its new setting.

In a history museum, visitors are more likely to look for accurate depictions of historical events to gain a sound understanding of what happened in the past. This is where interpretation gets trickier, and museum professionals must make decisions on how best to exhibit artwork. Should the museum display related artifacts alongside the painting? Should there be a didactic panel specifically identifying differences between the historical event and its artistic depiction?

This painting by C.W. Jefferys, Champlain Trading with the Indians, does not reveal details on the quality of relationships between Champlain and Indigenous groups such as the Huron or Iroquois (neither of whom are explicitly identified in this artistic rendition). Source.

Especially when paintings deal with a contentious narrative, such as colonialism in Canada, explicit analysis is crucial. Factors such as the creator of the work, his or her purpose, and relevant biases can alter viewers’ understanding of a painting. C.W. Jefferys’ 1911 artwork, Champlain Trading with the Indians, lacks detail in the way of concrete information: the general term “Indian” is used in the title, overlooking the nuances of interaction in post-contact colonial New France. In this way, paintings can't stand alone as historical artifacts because they are missing the subtleties of cultural and historical significance.

The issue of accuracy is paramount in a setting where visitors have no photographs of a historical event, and constructed imagery is their main source of visual insight. More than an aesthetic experience, historical paintings have the power to convey not only emotion, but information that may be taken at face value. As such, clarity of interpretation provides an additional layer of context to ensure that these artifacts contribute to an accurate and informed view of the past.