theatre as history

After hearing from Stephen about re-enactment and the possibilities of 'living history', I noticed with interest that the Quarantine Station (or, 'Q station', as its website notes it will soon be called) has created what they call an 'immersive theatre experience' to tell the history of the site. Called Defiance, the show apparently dramatises the experiences of those who lived and worked in the Quarantine Station throughout its long history. The station opened in the 1830s as (of course) a quarantine site for those coming to Australia after long sea voyages, and as you could imagine, it's a place that has probably seen great sadness in its long history - probably many of the people who were forced to stay there never saw their proper destination (I've long heard stories from historian friends that the place is haunted -  I'm not sure about this, but I did notice the station is also offering ghost tours of the place at night.) The show is designed around the experience of hearing of the stories in the places where they actually happened, which is an interesting idea. This emphasis on authenticity is one of the hallmarks of popular history.

It's interesting - when the redevelopment of the Quarantine Station was mooted almost a decade ago, I think many historians and heritage workers were dubious about plans for the site, which involved turning the buildings into a conference centre and resort. I guess we should be impressed that the building's history has been incorporated into the redevelopment and not turfed as many feared it would be. The politics of heritage these days seem to boil down to one question:  how do you make heritage pay in a market economy? It will be interesting to see if Defiance attracts audiences interested in an historical experience (at 60 bucks a ticket it should be a profitable one for the owners) as well as a fine dining one. 

So apparently Mawson didn't eat his own fingers

I hate to admit it, but I stay in on a sunday night to watch the ABC and nine times out of ten I don't regret my decision.

The latest sunday night offering was 'Mawson: Life and Death in Antarctica' and it was an easy watch (apart from when they killed the dogs). But the fact that it was so easy worries me a little. It didn't challenge the myth of Mawson, the only challenge it made was physical. I say myth because as we all know tales of Australian icons are generally 90% myth.

Relying on little more than Mawson's own diaries, the show used a mixture of footage, and photos taken by Frank Hurley, re-enactments and narration to complement the journey of the modern day adventurer, Tim Jarvis. Of course, due to the time and location we can't really expect many more sources, but the programme seemed to set out to prove everything Mawson wrote was true, rather than challenge or explore other options. The synopsis, describes it as "a bold and unprecedented historical experiment", it provides options, clues not truths, however there are people out there who are going to take this as gospel, as proof.

But how can we know? How can we tell?

There were too many variables. Mawson himself describes the effects on the human mind the tough conditions and Vitamin A poisoning had on his friends, but yet the writers, the producers, perhaps everyone is happy to take Mawson's word without calling into question his state of mind. Mawson did not have a trained medical professional trailing him on a snow-ski, checking his vitals every ten days. Perhaps I'm being a little harsh.

I actually liked it. I learned quite a lot. Most importantly, I am no longer the misapprehension that Mawson ate his own fingers in an act of desperate starvation - apparently it was Mertz, and he only did it to prove to himself he had acute frostbite, not because he was hungry, though he probably was...

Should a toy boat be allowed to just be a toy boat?

When I first walked into the Bateaux Jouets exhibition at the National Maritime Museum last week I was enchanted. However, my enchantment quickly turned sour. The narrative in which the toys were situated seemed to be overly positive. The majority of the boats were military models. Given that most of these models were created leading up to the First and Second World Wars, surely an interesting line of enquiry would have been to ask if these toys had socialized children to become unquestioning participants in these events? When I mentioned this to my boyfriend he was annoyed. “Can’t you just let a toy boat be a toy boat?”

I was somewhat appeased by the French film that played continuously during the exhibition which dealt with some of these themes, albeit in a subtle way. But was this film enough to deal with these issues in the exhibit? Considering the amount of space given to explaining the different companies who created these toys, surely there was room for some more difficult questions? I realise that an exhibition needs to be enjoyable, but surely there is a balance that can be negotiated between challenging and amusing visitors.

Blogging in the Museum

I recently came across this blog, created by the curators of the Justice and Police Museum as a way to explore some of the thousands of crime scene and mug shot photographs in their archive. Peter Doyle will be speaking about his work with the archive in the course in a couple of weeks, but I thought the blog was a really interesting example of the ways museums might use the internet to explore their collections in a way that invites the public to reflect on the processes of history-making. Plus the photographs are amazing! 

Public History at Gloria Jeans

I was happily sitting in Gloria Jeans at Epping this morning, when I looked up and saw this message on a blackboard: “Blast from the Past Exhibition. In May – Bring in photos + paraphernalia from a previous era to contribute.” Perhaps they are hoping that such initiatives will make customers feel like it is “their” shop and boost customer loyalty. Or maybe I am just being cynical. Maybe one of the staff is interested in history and felt that since Gloria Jeans is a public space it would be a good place to hold an exhibition.

However, so far no one has contributed anything, or at least nothing was on display. While there is little doubt in my mind that the initiative has something to do with making money, I also think that it has the potential for being a democratic and powerful display of public history. People may not have the time or money to go to a museum, but they can experience a piece of history over coffee. What does everyone think, should we view such an idea as an aberration, an innovation, or both?

Favourite Australians, anyone?

The ABC has continued on in the tradition of their 'let's-create-a-list programs' My Favourite Book and My Favourite Film by calling for nominations for My Favourite Australian. Go to the website and you can nominate your favourite Australian ('living or historical') - either send your vote through the site or SMS (55c per vote!). The person who tops the poll will be immortalised in the National Portrait Gallery in Canberra, making this a very curious exercise in public history making, albeit one that owes more to the popularity contest model of Big Brother (or the Logies) than the scholarly selection process that comprises the Australian Dictionary of Biography. 

Looking at the lists of 'favourite Australians' on the site that are intended to 'inspire' you in your choice, you realise how bizarre this exercise is. Rove McManus sits side by side with Robert Menzies and Nellie Melba, Cate Blanchett next to Geoffrey Blainey and Burke and Wills. Is this an attempt to find a new figure of national identity? To celebrate our history? To further confirm our love-in with celebrity culture? 

But - there is hope. Just as the ABC's My Favourite Film poll produced a rather strange list that seemed to have been hijacked by the fans of Amelie and Lord of the Rings (are these really people's favourite films of all time? really?), then so might this poll be overwhelmed by fans of Carl Williams, or Shane Warne and be the subject of much mirth. But who knows? Maybe we can unite behind our favourite historical figure and throw the poll. How about Bon Scott? He's on the list, and I reckon he'd look great in the National Portrait Gallery - plus, he's already been honoured with a memorial sculpture in Fremantle, which surely puts him in a commanding position...

Adequacy Under Siege

During April 2008 a four part series, History Under Siege, aired on Radio National’s Hindsight. While the content was quite interesting, I was concerned that the producer failed to exploit many of the opportunities possible when working in radio. I only listened to the first part fully, which was on debates in Japanese history, and ten minutes of the second part, which was on debates in Argentina. The use of music and movie clips in the first part was quite sloppy, with music starting and then abruptly stopping for no apparent reason. What was the most soul crushing, however, was the theme music. I only realised that it was the theme when I listened to the second part. The music did not suit the documentary itself, or the documentary series as a whole. What is more, I could not understand why the producer decided to include theme music at all. Do listeners need to feel safe by returning to a familiar theme every week? Or was it sheer laziness? This series seems to be a work that simply happens to be a radio documentary, as opposed to being a work that exploits the medium in which it was created.