How “Universal” is Cultural Heritage? How Do We Consume Art? -- Martinek

This week’s articles focus on where the allegiance of a conservator lies with respect to the heritage of cultural objects. The articles suggest that there are three main parties to be considered (the museum, the viewer/public, and the object itself), but focus mainly on two (the museum seems to be grouped with the object). In his article, “Historic Stewardship and the Amateur Tradition”, David Lowenthal highlights the “integrity of the object” and the need to preserve the true heritage of that object instead of endowing it with “some quasi-divine sanctity”.

STONEHENGE, an important but badly-managed heritage site

All of the articles emphasize the importance of making sources of significant heritage accessible to the public, which can’t be done if conservators are so worried about protecting the object that they build a wall between “academic” and “active” life (Lowenthal). All material is meant to disintegrate eventually over time, and while a conservator must consider the “sustainability” of an object it is important to “enable its use” for people now (Corruchaga). Do you agree? Should a conservator’s first priority be to the people or to the object and the museum which wishes to protect it? How can a museum attract people if it prefers the object’s physical preservation over the integrity of the experience people gain from interacting with it?

Elizabeth Pye points out how important and beneficial it is for people to be able to hold objects. There is an “element of exploration and discovery” that we can only find when we employ our hands, for “our facility with tools…mark us as human”. Where do human nature and emotion fit in? How important are they in preserving the integrity of heritage?

What happens when we are not only forbidden from touching the object, but from even seeing it, as in the case of many indigenous Australian sites? Andrew Thorn explores the idea of the conservator as “visitor”, an outsider who cannot possibly understand or fully appreciate the integrity of the piece that must be conserved because it is not allowed. Is it still possible for the object to maintain its integrity in this instance? How about with non-indigenous viewers? Is there a responsibility to them? Who decides and why?

Lowenthal states that “we may be more caring stewards of things” when we realize that they cannot last forever – maybe this holds true for things that we can never fully understand as well.

indigenous drawings at KADAKU, an indigenous site that is working to satisfy cultural wishes and tourist curiousity

This may also be the case in instances where we can see the object, but it is not the original. Corruchaga and Monforte talk about how public understanding and appreciation grew for Altamira when the original site had to be closed down and people had to replicate their experience in the Neocave. Even though it is not the original, the replica is effective in maintaining the integrity of the site because it shows how fragile heritage is and helps people understand the changes over time that the cave went through over time – also while allowing the site to be preserved without disturbance as well.

Most of the articles seemed to suggest that a conservator’s allegiance lay first and foremost with the object, but is this always the case? As Balachandran pointed out, where there is no provenience or site information known, preserving an artifact may actually ruin its integrity. Can we say where a conservator’s allegiance should lie (with the museum, the object, or the public and their desire to experience the object…), or are there certain instances when one party may hold more weight than another?

Armed Conflicts, Its Aftermath, and National Claims—Carambelas

Topography of Terror, Berlin (Source)

Although preserving the past is a noble intent it doesn’t come without conflict and ethical concerns. Over time the material culture and buildings of a community comes to stand for that community, thus, an attack on these items is an attack on the group.

The attempts by Muslims to rebuild mosques and the hostile opposition they have encountered in the city of Banja Luka, Bosnia, are a good example of this notion. After being ethnically cleansed from the region by Serbs, rebuilding is a way to reassert the Muslim presence and right to belong; failing to rebuild would be an admission of defeat.

Rebuilding can also be used to mask the past and create what R. Bevan calls “forced forgetting.” After World War II many cities rapidly redeveloped in order to obscure the memory of German occupation and the Third Reich. In the case of Warsaw, Poland, the rebuilding helped to produce a new national identity which excluded German heritage and privileged certain memories over history. The Warsaw Uprising, for instance, was eliminated from that history because of the less than noble involvement of the Soviets under Moscow.

In some instances history has been sought by later generations through archaeological studies and memorials. The Topography of Terror exhibition and site in Berlin was begun in 1986 as symbolic archaeological dig to better understand the past. Professional archaeologists eventually took over the site and conserved the floors and walls of prison cells they uncovered. Today the site is set up as a didactic walkway that tells the history of the site and those who used it.

Sites of hurtful memories are proof against denial or attempts to mask the past, yet they may be offensive to some parties. So how can conservators ensure that history (and not memory) are preserved and represented in our daily landscapes?

Related Readings/Video

Rape of Europa (DVD 3420 at MSE)

Nora, Pierre. "Between Memory and History: Les Lieux de Memoire." Representation (Spring 1989): 7-24. (Available through JSTOR)

The Church of St. Alexander, Warsaw, was built between 1818-1826 and razed by the Nazis in 1944 following the failed Warsaw Uprising. Its reconstruction--although following the plan of the original--lacks the finesse of the original and has been described by critics as a 'Disneyfication.' (Destroyed: Source) (Rebuilt: Source)

Using Objects So That They Live or Die

Kongo nkisi figure, 19th century, wood, vegetable fibers, and metal
Minneapolis Institute of Arts

Ashton: In this week’s readings, we explored the ways in which some artworks are intended to continue “living” even after their artist’s death. This goal presents many challenges for conservators to weigh the importance of “original” objects to the work versus the ability for the object to “live,” the desire to preserve the actual object versus the intended use or function of an object, and the cultural context of the object versus the ethics of the museum. I was especially interested in Kaminitz’s discussion of the benefits of reciprocity between native groups and the museum – that cooperation allows the museums to obtain crucial information about the background of the objects and provides native groups the opportunity to preserve their cultural objects and practices as well as control of the interpretation of the objects. This is a more moderate approach compared to Jones-Amin’s look into the difficulty and ultimate failure of the museum to replicate cultural context while upholding conservation principles.

Jean Tinguely at work on Homage to New York (1960)
Courtesy Museum Tinguely, Basel, and The New York Times

Hughes: In the interview portion of “Reconstruction of a Moving Life, The Playful World of Jean Tinguely: An Interview with Ad Petersen,” Petersen, a former curator, half-laments “In a museum […] a certain fossilization occurs; you can’t do anything about this.” This idea seems to be the subtext of most of the readings this week. Art and objects taken out of context and placed in the museum setting often just sit there, no longer actively used. Mellor points out that African objects, even if they were at one time magical, sacred or powerful, lose these intangible qualities when they are removed from their cultural context. While a certain “fossilization” may be inevitable (or even desired when handling vengeful artifacts such as the Kongo nkisi figure), the viewer would prefer for objects to live as long as possible. The case of Tinguely’s Gismo, with all of its mechanical parts, was a particularly complex problem for conservators. Exhaustive art historical research led the team to conclude, “Gismo has to move, otherwise it does not ‘live.’”

Limits and Dangers of Technical Studies: Fakes, Copies and Authenticity – Hughes

Is it possible to know without a doubt that an artwork or object is authentic? Is authenticity “provable” through scientific techniques and empirical evidence? What is authenticity?

Alleged Jackson Pollock from the Matter collection, one of 32 paintings discovered in a storage facility in 2002.

According to the authors of “Art Conservation and Art Fraud: Dissecting the Thin Blue Line,” science cannot provide proof of authenticity in terms of absolute truth; it can only provide evidence for experts to employ towards “developing theories of ‘best fit’” with results of technical analysis placed on an interpretive continuum (Galbally 74). Our discussion of technical studies last week led most of the class to agree that “objective scientific truth” is a practically unattainable goal. Scientific facts are still dependent upon their reading and interpretation. Working with a pre-established methodology during authentication studies should help guard conservators from unintentionally blending fact with opinion.

Powerhouse Mechanic by Lewis Hine, early 1920's

The emergence of the so-called Matter Pollocks and the Rosenblum Hines into the art market illustrates the fact that even works with seemingly impeccable provenance and authentication by respected connoisseurs can fall short of certainty. Can buyers no longer rely on the connoisseur’s legendary “eye” to judge authenticity? Whose responsibility is it to authenticate artwork? What happens to the work when the connoisseur and conservation scientist disagree? Does such controversy forever taint the work’s aesthetic value? Its historical value?