Precarious History

Are our historical objects safe in museums?

Relatively, one might say. Isn’t it better than being locked inside a windowless room, in solitary confinement, never to see the light of day?

I would agree especially since the Indian government, especially state government are known for their apathetic response to portable heritage. It is a well-known fact that a lot of historical sculptures especially bronze statues that have been returned to India from western museums and private collections are at present literally rotting (from bronze disease) in government storage facilities across the country. (For more on bronze disease, click here.)

But even when conservatorially safe as displayed objects in museum collections in India and abroad, their precarity takes on other forms. As someone who has spent what feels like a lifetime in museums across the world in the last few years, I strongly believe that precarity of historical objects stem from human and scholarly apathy. One particular story of precarity is discussed in this post - the precarity arising from lack of historical knowledge.

Prince William and Queen Victoria’s Ivory Throne

Official portrait of Queen Victoria as ‘Empress of India’ on the Travancore ivory throne, 1876. Image Courtesy: Royal Collection Trust, UK

Official portrait of Queen Victoria as ‘Empress of India’ on the Travancore ivory throne, 1876. Image Courtesy: Royal Collection Trust, UK

In 2014, a huge brouhaha followed a surprise announcement by Prince William of UK: he suggested that as a symbolic warning to ivory poachers in Africa and elsewhere, all historic ivory objects in the Royal Collections Trust should be burned and destroyed. While wildlife conservationists applauded this decision, museum professionals were aghast, saying that such a move would take historical objects and make them into “artworks of shame.” In the following years, there have been calls to consider “reason, not passion,” when thinking of solutions for ivory poaching.

Mired in this tussle was one of the most prominent objects in the royal collection—the ivory throne of Queen Victoria. Newspapers after newspapers produced the resplendent watercolor image of the throne in full royal display at The Great Exhibition of 1851 when it was exhibited. The throne was a gift object presented to Queen Victoria by king Uthram Thirunal Marthanda Varma of Travancore, part of the modern state of Kerala, India. Completely worked by ivory carvers from the region and explicitly made as an objects of mediation and diplomacy, the throne in its function and structure is not British at all. It did, however, become an integral part of Queen Victoria’s interiors. Prince Albert, Royal Consort and beloved husband of the queen, used the throne as his presiding seat at the closing ceremony of The Great Exhibition, a program which he had patronized and helped bring to fruition. Perhaps it was this association with Prince Albert, but his widow chose this throne as her chair of state in 1876 when she was crowned The Empress of India. (You can read more about this throne in this post.)

Today the ivory throne is carted off and hidden from the Garter Throne Room in Windsor Castle when there are official dinners and other events so as to not politicize its presence and what it means to have such objects in the royal collection.

The call for its destruction and its erasure from the public eye during important events comes from the understanding that the throne is simply made of ivory and this material quality defines the object. In the course of studying this throne, I have come across documents that not only provide a colorful trail of stories of how the throne came to England but also a distinct understanding that the throne is not completely made of ivory as most people think it is. Its structure is of a particular type of wood (if you want to know what wood it is and where it came from, you will have to read my dissertation, available to public in a few months, I promise!). A good part of what is considered the material of ivory is not ivory from the tusk of the elephant but actually its teeth! In addition, the chance that the teeth came out of a domesticated elephant that naturally sheds its teeth six times in its life is higher than the alternative, that the teeth came from an elephant captured and killed for ivory. For in Kerala, elephants are a semi-venerated mammal, a very omnipresent animal important to temple activities across the state even today. While we can question the inhumaneness of taming an untameable wild animal, in Kerala, historically elephants where never actively killed for game. (This has since changed and poaching has been a serious issue in the last few decades.)

For our purposes here, the brouhaha about the throne and its threatened destruction is borne out a lack of knowledge about its materials and how it was produced.

There is also the sense that the throne is representative of only British monarchy when clearly it is as much an objects of Kerala as it is of Queen Victoria. Its material, design, patronage, and circulation originated from Travancore. It remains one of the premiery artistic objects made in the nineteenth century in Travancore. Its destruction would be a significant blow to an already understudied region whose artistic heritage is limited due to the prolific use of organic materials that are easily lost to time.

In the case of Queen Victoria’s ivory throne then production of historical knowledge is an ideal way to distance the throne from the discussion of ivory. The object is more than its material. For me, creation of knowledge is an activism and part of the project to preserve precarious objects like the ivory throne.

There are many other ways in which objects are in danger of being destroyed physically or erased from history. In the ethnonationalist world that we live in today, the presence of heritage objects become all the more necessary as visual reminders of the plural and interconnected cultures that came before us.

If you would like to see more on endangered objects, leave a comment below.

Why is photography taboo in so many Indian museums?!

I visited the Thiruvananthapuram museum complex a couple of days back. Napier Museum (Art Museum) is one of my favorites and I never miss visiting it when I am in the city. I can never get tired of the marvelous ingenuity of Robert Chisolm's design and I would say that he did a huge favor to Maharaja Ayilyam Thirunal and Malayalees by going against the Maharaja's wishes. (For this post, I am ignoring the colonial hegemonic implications of the Chisolm incident, but a short version of it is provided in a comment in my Instagram post seen below. Click on the image for more info.)

Arguably, the building itself is probably the most valuable piece of "artifact" that belongs to this museum. I have hundreds of photographs of the edifice. But, as soon as you go inside, you are warned that photography of museum displays are not permitted. To make the warning stick a veshti-mundu clad lady sternly lets me know that there are cameras everywhere in the museum that will be recording my actions. 

I have been to many museums all over India that restrict visitors from photographing museum collections. But why? I don't understand this reticence. 

After all, the collections at Napier Museum have no copyright associated with them--most of them have limited metadata, provenance research when conducted are in its very early stages. And most of the collection is from nineteenth century or earlier, except for a few pieces of furniture and Kathakali miniatures. Few of them may even be light-sensitive but as it is, there are no protective enclosures for any of these to mitigate that problem. (There is no HVAC and other moisture control systems either.) So the typical issues because of which museums restrict photography are non-existent.

In her book Participatory MuseumNina Simon points out the reasons for dissatisfaction of publics with museums and ways for institutions to recover: 

Courtesy and copyright: Nina Simon, http://www.participatorymuseum.org/read/ 

Courtesy and copyright: Nina Simon, http://www.participatorymuseum.org/read/ 

All of these points are starkly relevant to Indian museums but above all and unmentioned here, is the lack of a museum-going culture in South Asia. There are no statistics available to provide an accurate understanding of this deficiency but the mostly-empty museums all across the country is a readily visible phenomenon. In this situation, it is important that Indian museums take advantages offered by participatory activities that can bring in new visitors. 

The act of taking photography is ubiquitous to all public spaces now. With the advent of the smartphone and what is being called the "mobile revolution" in India, it is near-impossible to execute a strict no-photography policy. Then, why can't museums embrace photography and use it as a tool to make it a participatory experience? For example, Virginia Museum of Fine Arts encourages visitors to take pictures with their permanent collections materials and host it on social media. A 2013 Pew Research Center report points out that 97 percent of art organizations they polled in North America reported sharing images and using social media. This allows for more online visibility, something that is crucial to revenue generation. As importantly, such participatory exercises improve museum-going experiences. 

For (an anecdotal) example: you see on the left, the really bad photograph I took of my sister next to one of the Pollocks at the Art Institute of Chicago (AIC) a few years back. We took it while on a visit to the modern wing with our cousin, and my cousin and I thought she matched the Pollock painting next to her. (There could be a highly psychoanalytic discussion hiding in this photograph.) This, of course, as it always does, spawned a debate that night of whether monkeys can paint a Pollock, with my sister and I firmly on the side of Pollock's drip works. A few months later I went by AIC and bought the Pollock jigsaw puzzle as a gag-gift for my cousin, the perpetrator of anti-Pollock sentiments in the family. Now, a visit to AIC around Christmas has become a family ritual, courtesy this photograph. We have visited multiple galleries since then, have argued about our likes and dislikes, and we have come to the conclusion that only Monet prevails above all arguments.

But for a more concrete example, a presentation from the National Gallery of Denmark tells how visitors' photography and social media increased their museum's reach by 2500%. (Not kidding, that's a real statistic.)

I'll end my post here with a summary conclusion: If Indian museum administrators or people who can influence them are listening, there is no advantage to withholding photography in museums spaces anymore. In fact, such restrictions are detrimental to institutional development. However, there is one thing that museum personnel will need to take care of before letting visitors photograph their collection--dust! 

Notes from the Field: My Latest Love (No Photo!)

At Napier Museum in Thiruvananthapuram is a dressing table. There is no information about the object except that it was probably made in Travancore in the nineteenth century. Beautifully carved from wood with many of the typical sculptural elements seen in Kerala palace and temple architecture, it is breathtaking! As always in Kerala, "NO PHOTOGRAPHY PERMITTED" board hangs above it in bold letters, so no pictures to show this marvelous piece... yet. (If you want to read my rant about photography restrictions in Kerala museum, head here.)

The tripartite facing board of the table holds three mirrors--one in the center bigger than the ones on either side, and symmetrically placed. Most curious was the figure in the roundel above the frieze sheltering the two smaller mirrors: a long-haired, long-bearded man with eyes closed and an afflicted expression on his face. The figure seemed very Jesus-like. This is the only anthropomorphic figure on the elaborately carved table. 

Hopefully more on this table soon! 

 

Queen Victoria's Ivory Throne: Some Mentions at the 1904 St Louis World's Fair (St Louis Purchase Exposition)

Last year, I found a small cut-out from The Insurance Press, an insurance newspaper that described the ivory throne presented by Maharaja Uthram Thirunal Marthanda Varma of Travancore to Queen Victoria of England. The throne was seen by one of the newspaper reporters at the St. Louis Purchase Exposition in St. Louis, Missouri. My contact at the Royal Collection Trust (RCT), which manages the throne now, was as surprised as I was at this information for most of the records on the throne were lost in the fire at Windsor Castle. 

Right: Cut-out from The Insurance Press vol.17, December 16, 1903, page 12, Publisher: F. Webster (From New York Public Library, Digitized by Google); Left: Ivory Throne, Windsor Castle, UK, copyright: Royal Collection Trust

Right: Cut-out from The Insurance Press vol.17, December 16, 1903, page 12, Publisher: F. Webster (From New York Public Library, Digitized by Google); Left: Ivory Throne, Windsor Castle, UK, copyright: Royal Collection Trust

The short paragraph in Insurance Press from December 1903 reads:

"Among the priceless treasures comprising the Jubilee presents of Queen Victoria, which have been sent to America by King Edward of England, for exhibition at  the World's Fair, is a wonderful ivory chair and footstool. These were presented to the late queen by the Maharajah of Travancore. The carving on the chair and the footstool is a revelation of the possibilities of art. The feet are in the form of lions' paws, and the arms terminate in lions' heads. The back is in the form of a shell, supported by elephants, rampant. The seat is of alabaster, and the chair has a gold and silver tissue drapery around the underside of the frame, finished with tassels and richly chased ormolu ornaments. The cushions are of green velvet, embroidered in gold and silver thread. Every outside part of the chair is covered with delicately carved figures of men and animals."

There is no doubt from the description that the throne in question is the Travancore ivory throne, even though a few of the details are questionable and/or inaccurate. For example, the report claims the seat to be made of alabaster, but it is actually made of elephant teeth. (See a conservation video from RCT here for a closer look.) But other details such as the mention of tassels and tissues lining the underside of the throne is accurate, as seen in an 1851 salted paper print of the throne below (left). 

Left: Ivory Throne and Footstool, 1851; RIght: Official Portrait of Queen Victoria as 'Empress of India' on Ivory Throne, 1876 (Images: Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2016)

Left: Ivory Throne and Footstool, 1851; RIght: Official Portrait of Queen Victoria as 'Empress of India' on Ivory Throne, 1876 (Images: Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2016)

While information about the throne's visit to the United States is scant, I found some more mentions of the throne in other publications. In the History of Louisiana Purchase Exposition (Bennitt et. al, 1905), the throne is listed among many other things in the collection that's referred to, again, as "Jubilee presents of Queen Victoria" sent by "the subject princes of her Indian Empire" (Bennitt et al., 1905: 268). The throne is described as the "elegantly carved ivory chair of state" (ibid.). The collection that authors mark as over 400 in number, is mentioned specially as one that stands out among all the displays from the British empire. The authors are keen to point out its popularity in general and particularly with the female viewers: "Four towering London "Bobbies," in the regulation police uniform, took turns in guarding these priceless relics of Queen Victoria's reign, and the throngs passing in and out of the room from the opening to the closing everyday showed that, in offering these exhibits, King Edward had not overestimated the interest American women would take in these testimonials to his venerated mother." (Bennitt et al., 1905: 269) 

It is interesting to see what else was included in the large exhibition that in the official press release was titled "The King's Contribution."

THE LOUISIANA PURCHASE EXPOSITION.PRESS, VOLUME LXI, ISSUE 11877, 26 APRIL 1904; http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/CHP19040426.2.7 

THE LOUISIANA PURCHASE EXPOSITION.PRESS, VOLUME LXI, ISSUE 11877, 26 APRIL 1904; http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/CHP19040426.2.7 

From Travancore, there were some other objects in the descriptive list provided here. These include:

"Two great pairs of tusks sent to the late Queen by the Maharajah of Travancore will prove of great interest. These tusks are probably the largest, ever seen. They bear this inscription : —• "Pair of elephant's tusk*, mounted on a buffalo's head carved in ebony, which is supported on four griffins." The tusks are supported higher up by a crossbar of ebony, the whole resting on the heads of four figures representing the incarnations of Vishnu."

Unattributed to Travancore, but another mention of elephant tusk objet d'art follows:

"A pair of elephant's tusks, mounted as flower vases on a stand of rosewood, covered with ivory, is another interesting exhibit. The tusks are mounted with gold, and are entwined by a pepper vine in fruit worked in gold. The vases are supported on two elephants' heads carved in ebony, and rising from out of a base of rock and jungle worked in ivory and elephants' teeth. The trunks of the elephants support a lotus of ivory on which is seated a golden image of Lukshine [Lakshmi], the Goddess of Prosperity."

A little later in the description, the ivory throne is mentioned:

"The Maharajah who sent the pair of tusks sent also a beautiful chair—a sort of Sedan chair of state that is literally covered with gold and diamonds. It has some wonderful ivory carving on- its legs and back and seat. The seat is of alabaster and is hung with gold and silver."

The press release as well as eye-witness accounts of the throne had a large circulation as seen in the appearance of these descriptions in smaller local newspapers like the Kentucky weekly Mt. Sterling Advocate, that posted a small article seen in the image below (Digression: the newspaper's tagline reads, "EDITORIALLY Strictly Democratic; cannot be sidetracked, opposes all class and vicious legislation.") After a description of the throne as seen in the press release above, and with an added accolade cited from Scientific American: "a revelations in the possibilities of art," the articles goes on to describe other items made of elephant tusks. But here, for perhaps, an added dramatic measure, the author remarks: "The maharajah, not satisfied with these truly princely gift, presented also to her majesty two immense pairs of elephants' tusks..." (For more information, see: http://kdl.kyvl.org/catalog/xt7tx921dn3k_8/viewer)

Clearly, the throne and other objets d'art in this discussion is representative of the era of high imperialism, and a definite romanticization of the assorted east in North America, at the time. The association of the throne to the Queen as well as its position as a "gift" from a "subject prince" of India is duly mentioned in all the chronicles, suggesting that the throne remained in popular conception, a political conduit of imperial relationships. More on this can be read in my paper on the role of the ivory throne as political negotiator in British-Travancore relations; abstract can be read here.)

It is also interesting to note here that the throne, contrary to all the descriptions of it provided here, was not  a Jubilee gift to the Queen, which happened in 1887 and, then in 1897. The throne was presented to the Queen about 35 years earlier in 1851 at the occasion of the Great Exhibition of Industry of All Nations at the Crystal Palace in Hyde Park, London. The throne was sent as an exhibit-object at the Great Exhibition, following which, Maharaja Uthram Thirunal of Travancore had insisted in the accompanying letter, the Queen accept it as a royal gift. (For more on the topic, you can read a rather long excerpt of my paper on the production of Queen Victoria's ivory throne here.) 

In 1851, far from being a subject prince, Travancore considered itself a kingdom autonomous from British-controlled India, and the Maharaja makes that distinction clear in the letter he writes to the Queen, describing Travancore as the small state "neighboring" Her Majesty's empire. We also know from contemporaneous accounts that the throne was initially designed for the Maharaja, and later re-assigned as a gift for the Queen. An erasure of the throne's production history can be seen at play here. 

In any case, these various mentions serves to demonstrate the immediate visibility of the ivory throne amongst hundreds of exhibits from the imperial collection, and the alluring quality of the ivory carvings, that find repeated mention in all accounts. 

Parting note: It remains to be studied why the ivory throne from Travancore was chosen as Queen Victoria's chair of state in 1877 when she took the title of 'Empress of India.'


Note: All images used in this post, except for those taken by the author with the permission of Royal Collection Trust, belong to the Royal Collection Trust. Photographs by author have been taken after receiving permission from Royal Collection Trust, UK. All rights reserved.

References:

Bennitt, Mark, and Frank Parker Stockbridge. 1905. History of the Louisiana Purchase Exposition: comprising the history of the Louisiana territory, the story of the Louisiana Purchase and a full account of the great exposition, embracing the participation of the states and nations of the world, and other events of the St. Louis World's Fair of 1904. Saint Louis: Universal Exposition Pub. Co.

The Insurance Press. 1905. New York: [F. Webster]. http://books.google.com/books?id=tIRQAAAAYAAJ.