Programs

Blog

Posted by: Joan Seidl on February 2, 2012 at 3:24 pm

Down in the basement of MOV, we’ve been assembling a strange collection of female forms. These mannequins and body forms will wear glamorous garments in the upcoming Art Deco Chic exhibition opening March 8, 2012. However, in the meantime they are naked and exposed in all their bodily eccentricities.

We’ve been challenged to find mannequins that are the right size and shape to wear clothing from the 1920s and 1930s. Luckily, guest curators Ivan Sayers and Claus Jahnke collect vintage mannequins along with vintage clothing. Ivan’s 1920s mannequin was made by the firm of Pierre Imans of Paris. She has a beautifully modeled wax face, while her torso is wrapped in coarse muslin. You would not mistake her for a man, but possibly for a thirteen-year old girl. Her breasts are barely there, her waist minimal, and hips very slim. Her straight up and down figure was the ideal 1920s female body, designed to fit the era’s straight-cut, sack-like garments (more noted for their surface decoration than for their shaping).

Claus has a lovely mannequin from the late 1930s made by Fery-Boudrot of Paris (we’ve taken to calling her “the blonde”). She will wear an elegant outfit made in Germany or Austria, the areas in which Claus specializes. Many of the 1930s evening dresses depend for effect on flowing drapery and scarves. The backs of the dresses were especially elaborate so that the wearer looked good on the dance floor. We look forward to posing the blonde and her companions to show off these late 1930s garments to best advantage.

We turned to Kevin Smith from Arm & a Leg Mannequins Rental to help make up the numbers for the exhibit (which will have between 66 and 71 garments — the debates are still raging). Kevin provided a group of Rootstein figures from the 1990s with strongly modeled faces and moulded hair. First we tried evening dresses from the 1930s on the Rootsteins, but the dresses only came down to their shins. At 6’ tall, the Rootsteins are all leg. This led us to try garments from the late 1920s. By the late 1920s, the idea was to abbreviate the garment and show lots of leg. The classic flapper-style garments look great on these elegant Amazons.

The non-vintage mannequins will be painted a neutral colour (the exhibition designers, Matt Heximer and Sue Lepard from 10four Design Group, choose Benjamin Moore’s “Mannequin Cream”). Right now a crew headed by museum fabrication coordinator Dave Winstanley are sanding, priming, and spray painting the contemporary mannequins. We have to wind our way through a maze of bodies to have a word with Dave these days. He appears unimpressed by his female companions, and as he carefully sprays a selection of female arms dangling from the painting rack he points out the nearby “hand rail”, a long board that holds a hands upright for easy spraying.

If all goes well, our meticulous prep work will be invisible to visitors once the exhibition opens to the public on March 8. The point is to focus you on the amazing clothes, while the armature of display fades into the background.

Posted by: Joan Seidl on November 16, 2011 at 3:48 pm

Rob Gillette is the man behind the bright neon glow of the Drake Hotel sign in MOV’s new exhibit Neon Vancouver | Ugly Vancouver. Rob is a tube bender, one of the old-school artisans who makes magic with glass and rare gases. We visited Rob and his dog Blondy at his studio in Langley when he was getting some of the MOV’s vintage neon signs in working condition again. Rob was part of the team that exhibition sponsor Pattison Signs deployed to light up the signs once again.

The exhibition was an opportunity for Rob’s generation of tube benders to match skills with the old-timers who bent glass into Hootie the Owl’s kilt (in MOV’s Rexall “We Deliver” sign) and elaborate art deco script (as in MOV’s Williams Piano House sign).

Rob showed us how it was done. First, he fired up a gas flame, then he used both hands to manipulate a length of straight glass tubing in the flame until it was soft enough to bend, but not so soft that it dripped on the floor. He used his mouth and a thin hose to softly blow a current of air through the tubing, keeping the tube open even as he bent it into curves.

(For spectacular footage of a tube bender in action, check out the film Glowing in the Dark directed by Harry Killam and produced by Alan Goldman of Blueplate Productions, Vancouver.)

Once the tubing was shaped (in this case into the “ette” of Annette’s Dress Salon sign), Rob sealed the ends and prepared to load the gas. The flasks (known in the industry as ‘gas bombs’) that contain the rare gases are located in front of a wall covered with snapshots of enormous steelheads that Rob has caught on countless fishing trips. Rob carefully opened a valve and neon gas flowed into the narrow tube.

Later, Rob warned us to stand back as he jammed the throttle on the electricity and sent 220 power racing through the glass unit. Once he was assured that all was well, Rob invited us to look at it very, very closely. Squinting at the tube from two inches away, we convinced ourselves that we could actually see tiny movements inside – the electrical current exciting the neon electrons which danced as they gave off light.

The brilliance and buzz is writ large in the exhibition Neon Vancouver | Ugly Vancouver where 22 neon signs fill the gallery with energy and light. Thanks to Gillette Rob for bringing eight of those signs back to life and light. To learn more, you can contact Rob at blondydog@yahoo.ca

Posted by: Joan Seidl on November 12, 2010 at 8:30 am

Last weeek, repatriation of a Maori cloak, or korowai, from the MOV collection was celebrated with great ceremony in Wairoa on the North Island of New Zealand.

The woven flax cloak once belonged to Sir James Carroll, Maori leader and politician who championed the cause of Maori land rights. Carroll traveled to Vancouver around 1916, and here he presented the cloak to the family of George Ham, who worked in public relations for the Canadian Pacific Railway. Ham’s descendant, Joan Myers, treasured the cloak and in 1986 presented it to MOV for safekeeping.

In 1990, Ms. Toi Te Rito Maihi, a highly skilled Maori textile artist, visited MOV to study the collection. There she saw the cloak and recognized immediately that it from the Wairoa area. The hanging threads on the cloak are dyed a distinctive dark brown achieved by Wairoa’s iron-rich mud. Ms. Maihi was even more excited to learn of the connection to Carroll, who despite his importance, left few tangible objects to mark his life in Wairoa.

In April 2010, MOV received a letter from the curator of the Wairoa Museum requesting repatriation of the cloak and enclosing letters from Ms. Maihi and Ms. Erina Kuai. Ms. Maihi explained, “Although twenty years have now elapsed since I saw the korowai, the knowledge of its presence so far from the original owner’s home remained with me. With increasing age I have felt a need to ask that the korowai be returned to its place of origin where it will be treasured for the memories of a great man.”

Ms Kuai wrote, “Our Tipuna (ancestor) Sir James Carroll was and continues to be held in high esteem in our town…The whole family, indeed the whole community of his home town would be proud to bring home his taonga (treasure), acknowledge and pay tribute to him in the tradition of his native Maori people.”

On November 6, the people of Wairoa did just that. A procession of Carroll’s descendants carried the cloak to the traditional meeting house. There it was welcomed by orators whose formal speeches reflected on the life of Carroll and the journey of the cloak. Each speech was followed by a song or haka.

Carwyn Jones, a Ph.D student at UVic law school and descendant of Carroll, helped MOV by carrying the cloak home to his people. Carwyn took these photographs and sent his reflections on the day: “There was a real sense that this was a wonderful occasion for the whole community. Just about everyone who spoke throughout the day talked about the return of this cloak as marking a coming-together and re-energising of the community and felt that it was symbolically important for the spirit of our people.”

MOV salutes Joan Myers for caring for the cloak carefully for so many years and for placing it in a museum where its existence could become public knowledge. We thank Carwyn Jones and his young family for welcoming us in Victoria and for ferrying the cloak safely back to Wairoa. We are grateful to Ms. Maihi and Ms Kuai for initiating this important work and helping us through their wonderful letters understand the importance of the cloak to their community.

At its best, repatriation works this way. It forges new relationships, fills in missing knowledge, and strengthens community identity. The artifact goes where it can do the most good.

Posted by: Joan Seidl on November 10, 2010 at 3:51 pm

Last month, the Sechelt Image returned to Sechelt and was repatriated to the ownership of the Sechelt Indian Band. This memorable day was a long time coming for both the Sechelt First Nation and for MOV staff.

On Friday October 15, Sechelt leaders journeyed to MOV to prepare the stone statue for its journey home. A standard regulation museum crate was lined with female cedar boughs, and the statue was placed inside, wrapped in a soft, hand-woven Salish blanket. Andy Johnson of the Sechelt Nation worked with Squamish spiritual leader Robert Nahanee to perform appropriate prayers and rituals before the journey.

MOV staff took the crate to Sechelt where the next day the Image was formally presented to the Sechelt Nation in a moving and powerful longhouse ceremony. Afterwards we enjoyed a great feast of salmon, halibut and elk at the community hall with the rest of the Sechelt community and guests. It was great to celebrate with the people of Sechelt – both the return of the statue and the new, positive relationships that grew out of the repatriation.

This is MOV’s first major repatriation to First Nations. The Museum purchased the statue in 1926 for $25 from Dan Paull, a member of the Sechelt First Nation, who expressed concern about its continuing care. The Sechelt first requested return of the statue in 1976. The Museum made the Sechelt a replica, explaining that they did not have a museum and therefore could not adequately care for the original. The Sechelt opened their own museum, tems swiya Museum, in 1994 (on the site of the former residential school), and continued to press for return of the original.

In February 2010, Sechelt curator Jessica Casey re-opened the repatriation request with MOV director of collections and exhibitions Joan Seidl. With the assistance of researcher Emily Birky, a UBC doctoral student in anthropology, documentation was prepared and a case for repatriation presented to the MOV Collections Committee which approved the motion in May. Because of the great value of the statue, the City of Vancouver, which owns the collection that MOV cares for, needed to approve the decision to repatriate, which happened in late September. It was one of the great days of my working life, when I got to pick up the phone and call Jessica Casey with this good news.

The stone carving depicts a mother clasping a child who faces her. During the weekend Sechelt elders re-christened the statue, Our Grieving Mother. This recognizes the ancient legend memorialized by the carving. A young boy was out playing when he encountered warriors from a distant tribe preparing to attack the Sechelt. They killed the boy, but that raised an alarm and the warriors fled without assaulting the other Sechelt. The boy’s mother was overcome with grief and took her own life.

At the ceremonies, the Sechelt expressed the hope that the presence of Our Grieving Mother in their community will help to bind together families and heal wounds between generations. All of us at MOV share this hope and wish every blessing and success to the Sechelt First Nation.

Subscribe to Blog