MEG Conference 2022 - Write Up by Amie KIrby.

 A word from our Chair

Thank you to everyone to made it to the MEG conference this year, including the incredible speakers who generously shared their thinking and practice, challenging us all to approach our work in news ways. A particular thanks to National Museums Scotland for hosting us, and putting on such a well-planned couple of days. After two years of online conversation, it was wonderful to catch up with friends and colleagues, and a real reminder of what makes MEG so unique as a community. 

 

This year’s Bursary holders, Amie Kirby and Rhea Blem were tasked with writing a blog about their experiences of the conference. They capture some of the conversations that were had, and offer critical insight that I think we can all learn from. I was particularly struck by Aime's reflection on the radical - a term which as she articulates so well has a moral capital, drawn on through change-oriented language used by museums with increasing confidence. 

 

Amie Kirby is an early career professional in the museums & heritage field. She currently works for Stockport War Memorial Art Gallery and is available for freelance projects. She holds a BA in Archaeology from the University of Durham, an MA in Art Gallery & Museum Studies from the University of Manchester, and is active in various political organising groups across Manchester. She is interested in the foregrounding of decolonial and abolitionist perspectives in the museum, seeing this space as a site of care-centred, relational practice.

 

“After all, radical simply means ‘grasping things at the root’”

Angela Y. Davis, Women Culture and Politics (1989)

I thought about this quote a lot on my train journey home from MEG 2022. My first time attending any academic conference, this event also was the first time I had met any MEG members in person since joining earlier this year. As a fresh-faced “early career professional” recently out of postgraduate study and considering a PhD, my motivation for attending was to engage not only with the latest invigorating research and chatter permeating the sector, but with people who believe similarly to me – that museums can be agents of social change.

Whilst there were many stimulating, insightful, and productive presentations, provocations and Q&A sessions, and I will summarise my favourites shortly, I couldn’t help but think of the above quote from Davis when reflecting on the many and varied ways in which the work being done is described as “radical”. As it was noted in the plenary discussion, Sara Wajid had previously called the group “quiet activists”. In a similar vein to the use of “radical”, there is much to unpack in the connotations of museum work being “activist”; notably in its romanticisation as Dr. Ayesha Fuentes noted. Moreover, with the decolonisation agenda firmly planted in institutions’ consciousness, how much “activist” museum work is quiet – and how much should it be?

This short summary of my experience at #MEG2022 aims to emphasise that, whilst amazing work is being done, there remains much to do – and it’s our collective responsibility to empower and amplify the voices of the communities who are the most excluded or marginalised by our institutions (Sheila Asante used the term “priority communities” and it has since remained fixed in my vocabulary).

Relationship-oriented Practice

One of the key themes running throughout multiple sessions of the conference was that of co-production. This brought about important critical points, such as how to approach those you wish to work with – instead of expecting them to come to you, how to recognise and act to correct the power imbalances between institution and community, the problems of “community” itself as a homogenising term, and how to ensure relationships are sustainable past the completion of a project.

These issues point towards a greater reckoning of “value” in the museums sector. As Miles Greenwood astutely pointed out, museums have the potential to hold value, i.e. in being freely accessed in cases where there is no admission charge, but their value is far from innate and is not something to be taken for granted. Indeed, the value of museums and the work we find ourselves in is constructed – and once we recognise this, we must question who imposes this value and to which ends. This was further emphasised by Sheila Asante’s provocation that in order to embed care-centred, relational practices into museum work, we must “flip the narrative”. Rather than asking how we can engage our priority communities, we must ask: why encourage people to engage in the perpetuation of trauma? What would their involvement do to enrich their own understanding and wellbeing?

Once this is understood, it is imperative to change the ways in which we work with people. As Asante noted, this must involve the very structures and processes of decision-making that permeate our work; when we lead with the importance of process, there is great scope to understand cultivated relationships as an ongoing process – not a “decolonial” tick-box. Many of the talks across Day 1 highlighted the importance of relationship-oriented practice, such as Dr Karen Jacobs, whose work with Māori artist George Nuku emphasised the importance of privileging Indigenous worldviews which emphasise the relationships between people, and their relationship to land.

Elaborating in the Q&A session, Jacobs asserted a wariness of relationships constructed for or in tandem with a project – as relationships should be reciprocal, longstanding, community-led, and “not extractive”. Similarly, Rosa Dyer noted the importance of building relationships between two individuals, rather than the homogenising and spurious categories of “institution” and “community”. In this way, we must not only rethink structures and processes embedded in our institutions – but we must continually interrogate the place we hold in these institutions and how we carry ourselves as such.

We Must Reinvent to Move Forwards

“But the urgency for decolonisation didn’t come from us! It came from activists out there, indigenous communities out there” – Prof Wayne Modest

In realising the need to diverge from our identities as agents of museum institutions, it becomes apparent that we must break out of the museum walls, so to speak, and to reinvent if we are to engage with the individuals we wish to reach in a way that is meaningful to them. One of the primary ways to do so is to step outside of our conceptions of the important work our institutions do, and to realise instead that relationship-centred, care-grounded community work is being done all the time, it already exists – just outside of museums. By being more aware and mindful of where work already exists, we can begin to look inwards and see where our museums may, or may not, serve, supplement, and amplify this work.

One example I was rather captivated with was that of the Nigeria60 project by the Horniman Museum & Gardens, discussed by Dr Johanna Zetterstrom-Sharp. This project, produced in collaboration with Alafuro Sikoki-Coleman and other prominent Nigerian creatives, explores and celebrates the global impact of Nigerian creativity and directly brings this into conversation with collections of Nigerian material in the Horniman. Here, contemporary collecting of creative material was used as a method to interrogate existing collections with more accountability and criticality whilst using the process of creativity to form an “anti-collection”, in which ideas of fixing, permanence and centrality are refuted. As Zetterstrom-Sharp illustrated, this project serves to remind us that creativity is flourishing all the time, especially outside of museums. By emphasising creation and creativity, museums are better placed to don the role of facilitators, as opposed to animators or controllers of the narrative. This is again supported by Karen Jacobs’ description of the work completed with George Nuku – whereby nurturing relationships with artists and activists can lead to work that challenges the role of institutions.

Where Next: Interdisciplinary, Collaboration, and Grasping at the Root

One of the most exciting elements of this conference was the Work In Progress session, where current PhD students presented their research. The presentations themselves and the Q&A that followed felt dialogic and engaging; allowing speakers the opportunity to receive feedback on their work, and audience members to be provided with fresh, critical thought. Amy Shakespeare’s presentation on “Exhibiting Absence”, for example, was well-conceived and thought-provoking, putting forwards some of the arguments mentioned in this article – such as prioritising the formation of relationships between individuals.

Shakespeare’s use of “the three radicals” (radical trust, radical hope, and radical empathy) as a methodological basis prompted questions surrounding the use, or over-use, of ‘radical’ as terminology. Indeed, we must interrogate our language use continually whilst it changes at rapid pace; this includes recognising that larger institutions are guilty of co-opting or romanticising terms such as “radical” (which are often politically-charged) to denote a wildly different or innovative way of doing things; when in fact this way of doing things has been commonplace for many groups on the peripheries of our networks. Indeed, as I asserted at the beginning of this article, Angela Y. Davis says that radical simply means “to grasp at the root”: to get to the root cause of what you are trying to do and who you are trying to form relationships with. This should not be wildly innovative.

Conclusion

#MEG2022 has proved that museums are at their best when they are for and within the communities they serve. As practitioners, we are at our best when we work together: across distance and across disciplines. The prioritising of relationships and sustainable, embedded care-oriented practice holds true power to enable our users to define the value of museums for themselves: changing institutional culture beyond short-term participatory projects.

As an Early Career Professional whose interests lie in the intersection between museums and political organising, it is welcomed and refreshing to hear so many assertions of what should be done differently in order to prioritise relational working. The next step, whilst difficult, is to let such provocations spur us to action – to work together step-by-step to plot how change can occur in our institutions from the ground-up. As MEG member Mario Tuki from Rapa Nui noted in the end discussion, priority communities are more than capable of speaking for themselves. Arguably, the way we commit to change is to decentre ourselves.

Review of Tantra: enlightenment to revolution British Museum (24 Sept 2020 - 24 Jan 2021) By Kajal Meghani

 Tantra: enlightenment to revolution at the British Museum seeks to demystify Tantric philosophy. Curated by Dr Imma Ramos, the exhibition challenges the visitor to rethink any preconceived notions they have of Tantra, which is often misunderstood as a hedonistic sexual practice. Rather, as the exhibition explains, Tantra is a collection of instructional sacred texts that are written as a dialogue between gods and goddesses. The texts encourage devotees to transcend desire, aversion and fear by actively engaging with the erotic and macabre to view the material world as being animated by the power of divine feminine energy known as shakti.

The exhibition is arranged chronologically and explores the history of Tantra as waves of influence. Starting with its beginnings in sixth-century India, the exhibition’s examination of Tantra continues with its influence on India’s fight for independence from British colonial rule and ends with the impact of Tantric philosophy on 1960s counterculture and contemporary artists across the world. The exhibition features objects from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal, Tibet, Japan, the UK and the USA, demonstrating materially the far-reaching impact of Tantra.

The first sections of the exhibition opens with the earliest surviving Tantric manuscripts (now in the collection of Cambridge University Library) and temple sculptures representing the goddess or yogini from the museum’s collection. 

Fig 1: Sandstone sculpture of the goddess Chamunda. Photograph: Trustees of the British Museum.

The exhibition shows how Tantra’s profound influence on Hindu and Buddhist thought in medieval India inspired the rise of goddess worship in parts of South Asia. Goddesses associated with Tantra, such as Chamunda, a formidable form of Parvati, the Hindu goddess of fertility and love, were incorporated into the Hindu and Buddhist pantheons. In Buddhism, Tantric thought led to the rise of Vajrayana Buddhism, or the path of the thunderbolt, which spread across parts of Asia and gained a particular stronghold in Tibet.

This part of the exhibition explains the foundations of Tantric philosophy to the visitor and includes an evocative recreation of a 10th-century temple dedicated to yogini worship in Odisha (eastern India). Temples devoted to yogini were circular in design with an open roof to invite yoginis from the sky to enter the sacred space. The immersive recreation enables the visitor to understand how the sculptures on display would have been positioned in relation to one another and to experience the interplay of the building and the sky during worship. 

Fig 2: Recreation of a 10th-century temple dedicated to the worship of yoginis. Photograph: Trustees of the British Museum.

 

Stereotypical ideas of Tantra associated with yoga and sex are unpicked by the exhibition to show how these practices enabled a devotee to achieve enlightenment. Sculptures and paintings from India, Tibet and Nepal illustrate how practitioners could use their body and senses to awaken their own or their partner’s shakti. This section shows that Tantra not only influenced Buddhist and Hindu thought but also interested Islamic rulers, such as those of the Mughal empire based in northern India and independent Islamic sultanates largely based in Southern India. One of the most fascinating paintings in this section commissioned by a Mughal ruler, possibly Shah Jahan (1592 - 1666), is the depiction of the goddess Bhairavi painted in the 1630s by Mughal court artist Payag (active 1591 - 1658), which is from the Metropolitan Museum. Bhairavi, depicted with red skin, fangs and adorned with a garland and skirt made of human skulls, sits on a decapitated body in a cremation ground with a man, possibly the Hindu god Shiva or a yogi imitating him. The painting was commissioned as a gift by the Mughal ruler to the Hindu ruler of Mewar, Jagat Singh (1607 - 1652), who was a devotee to the goddess Bhairavi.

Fig 3: The Goddess Bhairavi Devi with Shiva. Photograph: The Metropolitan Museum

A section of the exhibition focusing on the use of human remains in Tantric Buddhist practice as a reminder of the impermanence of the body, was developed in consultation and collaboration with members of the Tibetan community in London and scholars of Tibetan Buddhism. Listening to their personal experiences and perspectives on the use of human remains in Tibetan Buddhist practice whilst looking at the display of objects made of human bones provides a unique insight into the display that a museum label may be unable to do. 

Fig 4: Display exploring the influence of Tantra on Tibetan Buddhism. Photograph: DHA Designs

 

This and the following section of the exhibition, which focus on the role of Tantra during British colonial rule, challenges the language and misconceptions that stemmed from colonial scholarship. During the colonial period, many British officials and missionaries misunderstood Tantra as black magic due to the use of human remains and the depictions of fierce goddesses such as Kali, a Tantric goddess particularly venerated in Bengal that inspired revolutionaries challenging British rule in India.

The final section of the exhibition examines the influence of Tantra on artists based in Asia, the UK and the USA and continues to influence practitioners today. Following the independence of India and Pakistan in 1947, South Asian artists inspired by Tantric philosophy came to be known as the Neo-Tantra movement and the final section of the exhibition displays paintings by Biren De (1926 - 2011), Ghulam Rasool Santosh (1929 - 2007) and Prafulla Mohanti (b. 1936). Tantra’s influence on the UK and USA, is contextualized by the politics and counterculture of the 1960s and 1970s, and also touches on the first exhibition of art inspired by Tantra, which took place in 1971 at the Hayward Gallery.

Fig 5: The final section of the exhibition displaying the influence of Tantra on the Neo-Tantra movement. Photography: DHA Designs.

Tantra: enlightenment to revolution is an important exhibition with rich content and interpretation that allows the visitor to develop a nuanced understanding of Tantric philosophy and to see how it influenced religious and cultural beliefs across the world. The exhibition dispels misunderstandings of Tantra being related exclusively to sex and so-called black magic, and contextualizes these ideas within the wider framework of Tantric philosophy whilst also tracing the origins of these misconceptions. This is further explored through a selection of collecting histories of some of the objects in the exhibition found on the museum’s website. The interpretation in the exhibition is clear and the sections that highlight and incorporate community and practitioner voices enable the visitor to gain a multifaceted understanding of Tantra.

Given the current COVID-related restrictions, the exhibition and the British Museum is closed until further notice. Until the exhibition can be visited in person, the Museum’s website features a guided tour of Tantra: enlightenment to revolution, given by its curator, Dr Imma Ramos and features additional content on the Museum’s blog.

Kajal Meghani is a collaborative doctoral award student with the University of Brighton and the British Museum, funded by AHRC

MEG visit to the Royal Museum of Central Africa (RMCA/Africa Museum) Tervuren, Belgium. 6-9 Feb 2020

By Sally Ayres, curator, RAMM, Exeter.

When Rachel Heminway Hurst’s email arrived in December last year, proposing a MEG trip to Tervuren to visit the Royal Museum of Central Africa and be guided around the re-displays of this controversial museum, I think I was one of the first to sign up. I had been to the museum many years ago while researching the representation of African artefacts in Western museums and RMCA had been an important museum to see. The museum was built for King Leopold II to celebrate and parade the rich resources of the Congo colony that he had claimed, with considerable violence, in the 1880’s. When I had last visited, a distinct pride in Belgium’s colonial history was evident: what would the museum look like now, after a multi-million decolonising redevelopment?

Six MEG members headed out of the EU Quarter of Brussels to the leafy suburbs of Tervuren by tram on a sunny morning in February. Sarah Morton, Kathleen Lawther, Malika Kraamer, Rachel and I met up with Axelle Van Wynsberghe on the way. The first thing that struck me as we arrived at Tervuren was the indirect route you now take from the tram stop to the new museum entrance: a deliberate ploy to avoid one being  over-impressed by the  grandiose display of power that was experienced in the former approach to the palatial ‘Museum of the Congo’.  These days you enter the grounds by a back road through the grounds leading to a modernistic sharp-edged large box of glass. This building acts as a welcome centre and as a window onto the ornate, domed and decorated turn of the century museum, so that the colonial building becomes ‘the first museum object’ you see. 

Bruno Verbergt, Operational Director of the RMCA, explained the rationale of the renovation over a cup of coffee. He spoke candidly about the challenges and compromises involved in the redevelopment and it became clear that indeed, many compromises had been necessary over significant conflicts concerning representation. Bruno said wryly ‘we are Belgians and we are used to compromise’ but the key intention, he insisted, was that ‘new constructs replace colonial ones, rooted in paradigms that give a central role to superdiversity, globalisation and multipolarity’. This meant that the museum has to take a ‘critical and apt’ attitude to its own history, to King Leopold, to the colony and to the victims of colonial violence. While he argued that ‘we cannot unify people on the basis of the past’, Bruno proposed that we can unify on the basis of the future.  To do this the museum had to act as a platform for power-sharing. 

We soon had a chance to see the ways the museum displays worked towards these ideals as we were escorted by curator Sophie Bouillon and conservator Siska Genbrugge down the long white corridor that takes the visitor underground, to the original museum building. Again your expectations are disrupted- when you finally emerge up a modest staircase into the old museum you find yourself in one of the building’s wings, with a view onto an open empty courtyard space. Ghostly names of Congolese appear on the nearby memorial wall when the sun casts shadows from the names written on the windows. These shadows identify the Congolese people who died in the ‘human zoo’ that was made for the World Expo in Antwerp in 1894. The children who died in the Belgian city of Gijzegem’s residential school between 1890 and 1906 are also remembered alongside the names on the traditional memorial to the Belgians who died in the early colonial period in the Congo.

But before entering this staircase the visitor has the all-important opportunity to read and watch multi-media interpretations of the RMCA’s new approach to its colonial past and its aspirations for the future. The area assigned for this introduction is a white-walled, but crypt-like basement, simply called ‘Introduction with Sculpture Depot’. The communication is multimedia:  maps, film, models, photographs and objects. Every label and interpretation panel has to be written in three languages (French, English and Dutch) posing a challenge to text writers and designers alike. The turn-around for one label in the RMCA is estimated as six weeks. These introductory displays explain all the enterprises of the Tervuren research centre, which include natural and life sciences (using extensive ongoing field work in several African countries) as well as housing the Henry Morton Stanley Archive. An open ‘depot’ or ‘storage room’ houses the no-longer-appropriate statues of Africans such as the infamous ‘leopard man’ which had once been on central display in the old museum. But, we asked ourselves, does this theatre effectively communicate the statues’ redundancy? And are they needed on show at all? 

It is in this introductory area that RMCA makes its position on colonialism clear. A touchscreen panel, answering the question ‘What is the museum’s position on colonisation today?’ states: 

Colonialism is a form of government based on military occupation, authoritarian and sometimes racist administration and exploitation. The museum therefore explicitly distances itself from it. It takes responsibility for the impact that its previous propaganda for colonialism has had on the multicultural society of today and for the message of Western moral and intellectual superiority it has conveyed in the past.  

This introductory area may easily be by-passed by many visitors eager to get into the museum ‘proper’ but it sets the tone for almost all that follows. African and African diaspora voices have a greater presence than ever before, whether in film (interviews, musical performances, dancing) or photographs, critical texts or artworks, throughout the galleries.  This was maybe most successful in the galleries based around the anthropological themes of Languages and Music , and Rituals and Ceremonies but it was also seen, for example, in videos inviting contemporary critique of old propaganda  films made in the colonial period promoting the ‘civilising mission’ of Belgians in the Congo. Younger faces and voices are also seen, via the digital project, Africa Tube. This online platform invites young black communities to select material from African and diaspora sources on the internet and to add it to a live virtual library, connecting the museum with ‘afrocyberspace’. 

Not all galleries involve living voices or post-independence African contributions however:  the ‘temporary exhibition’ Unrivalled Art is unapologetic in its representation of the collections as fine art, structured around a Western art historical methodology with little reference to living source communities. This was a lively talking point for our group, and was still being discussed as we relaxed over beer and frites at the end of the long day. One of the great strengths of a trip like this is the conversation between colleagues and our subject matter over the three days ranged from restitution, repatriation, source communities, budget cuts and Brexit, to practical ideas on email overload, unrealistic expectations and productive use of long commutes, amongst other things. Our talks were heartfelt, supportive and useful in true MEG spirit and I think we all came away stimulated and encouraged by sharing the time together. Thank you Rachel for organising it all.