Public collections for public health Myna Trustram, Manchester City Galleries (Renaissance) (m.trustram@manchester.gov.uk) Talk for ‘The Feel Good Museum’, Walsall Leather Museum, Midlands Federation of Museums and Art Galleries, 13 October 2011 Introduction What I want to do is to use the concept of asylum to think about museums and galleries as places where health and wellbeing can be enhanced. I think it can be helpful to use metaphors to think about museums. Another metaphor that is often used, and which has links with the idea of asylum, is to imagine museums as 21st century churches if not cathedrals. Thinking metaphorically can free up our thinking. The talk will consider the following areas: 1. The museum as an asylum 2. The Telling Our Lives project at Manchester Museum 3. The Who Cares? Museums, Health and Wellbeing programme 4. ‘Public Collections for Public Health’ But I want to start by showing you some images of objects in museum collections. They are all accessioned and catalogued objects so you could say that they have their passport and are full citizens of the museum. The point I want to make is that many things happen to objects in museums. Some: flourish and are shown off some are the object of intense scrutiny 1 some deteriorate and are rarely seen some receive intensive treatment to restore them some are hidden away in great order some are hidden away and forgotten about some are the object of great moral and political interest are repatriated some exist in close and closed groups some are sold again, some are neglected – zebra some are allowed out under close surveillance some stabbed in the back scurrying away about to attack Asylum I am talking about ‘asylum’ as in mental asylum and political asylum. Asylum has connotations of loss, displacement, hospitality, exclusion, privilege, destruction – all relevant to museum practice. Any sociologists amongst you may be familiar with Erving Goffman’s book Asylums: SLIDE 2 ‘A total institution [an asylum] may be defined as a place of residence and work where a large number of like-situated individuals, cut off from the wider society for an appreciable period of time, together lead an enclosed, formally administered round of life.’i1 Goffman’s description of a closed institution is remarkably similar to a museum. Instead of human subjects the museum has physical objects. Above all perhaps asylum is about loss – loss of freedom, loss of status, loss of relatives and friends and so much more. And anything gained through the hospitality of an asylum is a poor substitute for what has been lost. Museums promote themselves as places of knowledge and learning derived from concrete objects, sometimes many millions of them. But there are complex affective and aesthetic phenomena occurring in the encounter with objects which go far beyond the accumulation of facts. It is these phenomena which we are harnessing when we try to use museums to enhance health. I think we are asking, How can museums help make life worth living? We are looking for more than the usual things we advertise - a fun day out or a chance to learn something. Some people2 believe that it is the very early relationship that we have with the mother or principal carer that gives us a sense, or not, that life is worth living. I suppose I am wondering if there is any link at all between those early relationships and the experience a person might have in a museum. Telling Our Lives 2001-2 Telling Our Lives was a project run by Manchester Museum with Somalian women refugees. 1 Erving Goffman, Asylums: Essays on the social situation of mental patients and other inmates, Penguin, 1961 p.11 2 For instance the paediatrician and psychoanalyst D.W. Winnicott. See his Playing and Reality, Penguin,1971 3 Working with refugees and asylum seekers in UK museums isn’t unusual. Such work takes place within the policy context of ‘social inclusion’. Typically, projects say that they want to ‘give a voice’ to refugees; they want to make the museum ‘relevant’ to refugees; to ‘record the heritage’ of refugee communities; to give them skills in order to enter the labour market.3 The project that I will talk about at the Manchester Museum had a slightly different focus from this. The University of Manchester School of Medicine and the leader of a local Somali refugee women’s group first approached the museum’4. They thought that an inability to talk about their cultural identity was a prime factor in the depression of some Somalian women refugees. As refugees they had little sense of self and were left behind by their children’s greater ease with speaking English and finding a place within their life in the UK.5 They came to the museum weekly for six weeks to work in storytelling, textile arts and learning English. SLIDE Khadra, one of the women, said it took her eight years to feel any sense of security in the UK. ‘Ask Khadra where home is, and she will say “Somalia”. Ask her to explain this home to you and she will bring you an object, something she carried with her on that arduous journey [to the UK], like a talisman. Her object she says, tells others, “This is me”.’6 SLIDE The irony of the women seeking refuge or asylum in the museum’s ethnographic collection, a product of colonial relationships, was not lost on the 3 Refugee Heritage Project (London: Renaissance London, 2007) Bernadette Lynch, If the Museum is the Gateway, Who is the Gatekeeper? engage review Winter 2011 issue 11, p.3 5 Bernadette Lynch, Access to Collections and Affective Interaction with Objects in the Museum. PhD thesis, School of Art History and Archaeology, University of Manchester, 2004 p.158 6 Ibid 4 4 staff of the museum. There is a whole complexity of post colonial relationships between these women and the museum. When the women first came ‘they had never before entered a museum, or any building that represented, for them, the power of the state, or colonial cultural power. They were completely intimidated and fearful, unwilling to meet the eyes of Museum staff.’7 Somali objects from the collection, in particular photographs from Italian Somaliland taken by an Italian photographer during the Second World War, were shown to the women who explained the photographs (in museum terms, interpreted them) from their perspective. ‘There was a great deal of nostalgia for well-remembered (or part-remembered) landscapes and (obvious) pride in being able to tell something new to museum staff’.8 They evoked memories of loss. One might imagine that the museum provided temporary mental asylum for the women from their difficult lives in inner city Manchester. They were listened to and given privileged access to special objects. They shared their experiences and feelings with each other which enabled them to do some ‘working through’.9 Whether they were offered some measure of what might loosely be called political asylum is less clear. The project can perhaps be imagined as an act of reparation. It appears to democratise the museum through enabling the women to present their own meanings of the objects rather than privileging that of the curators. The museum’s role is complex here though and it’s important not to idealise. It has a humanitarian desire to help the women, to listen to their stories. It also 7 Lynch, Access to Collections, p.162 Lynch, If the Museum is the Gateway, p.5 9 See Laurence J. Gould, Collective WorkingThrough: the Role and Function of Memorialisation, Organisational and Social Dynamics, 11 (1) 2011, pp.79-92 8 5 has an interest in capturing their stories to enhance the documentation of the collections.10 My second study looks at a programme which sought also to provide some kind of refuge, but this time without the overt political context of refugees visiting a symbol of the host country’s former colonial past. The demons here are less overtly political and more mental. Who Cares? Museums, Health and Wellbeing This is a programme of projects run in six museums in the NW of England from 2009-11. The programme was funded by Renaissance NW. the six members of the NW Renaissance Hub took part: Manchester Art Gallery, Manchester Museum, Whitworth Art Gallery, Bolton Museum Service, the Harris Museum and Art Gallery, Tullie House Museum and Art Gallery. The programme has won two national awards from the Royal Society for Public Health for the practice and the research. The projects were experiments in using the museums’ collections and spaces to help the health and wellbeing of the participants. They worked with community based organisations such as a group for homeless people, health partners such as a young people’s psychiatric unit in a hospital and with residential and daycare centres for the elderly. The practitioners they worked with were psychiatrists, nurses, care workers, artists, community workers. Some of the projects sought to enrich lives through handling objects, looking at art or making art. Other projects, where close partnerships were formed with clinicians, directly addressed the participants’ mental state. You will know that for many decades now there has been an ‘arts and health’ movement which for the most part uses practical creative activities to enhance people’s health. In this work we are trying to establish the distinctive ways in which museums and their collections can enhance health. 10 Lynch, Access to Collections, p.186 6 Example: Ophelia by Arthur Hughes, 1852 (Manchester Art Gallery) SLIDE So we commissioned the Psychosocial Research Unit at the University of Central Lancashire to analyse the work. The most relevant finding for our purposes today is in the area of what we are now calling ‘public collections for public health’ – hence the title of my talk. As you know, ‘Public health’ is the term for non-clinical policy and action about health considered at a population level. The participants used objects to create distinctive personal meaning. So for instance in a cancer hospital in Manchester young patients were shown a range of domestic objects to handle and talk about. One young woman chose a miniature egg timer. This led to a discussion about time and in particular ‘how time (to think and to wait)’ hung heavy on her as a patient in an oncology ward. Perhaps she is wondering if she will grow old. In many of the projects the people formed symbolic relationships with the objects. The power of the relationship in part stemmed from the objects being museum objects ie they exist in the public domain, publicly owned. If an attachment can be made to something in the public domain then the symbolic link can assist a sense of inclusion in the wider society; ‘By making a personally distinctive use of an object, I retain my uniqueness and individuality…but I bring that individuality into relation with what the object stands for in the wider cultural field. I therefore begin to dissolve the separation I may feel from the cultural field of which others appear to be a part.’11 Museums are used to providing objects for educational use. In the Who Cares? work objects were made available for their psychic use, or in other 11 Lynn Froggett (et.al.) Who Cares? Museums, Health and Wellbeing Research Project. A Study of the Renaissance North West Programme, UCLan and Renaissance NW, 2011, p.66 7 words to find meaning. Critically, this takes place within an ethos of care (curator is from curare to care for).12 One might suggest that both the objects and the people are being curated or cared for. (It is though worth noting that the quality of care afforded to some objects in museums is way above that which many humans receive in society.) Museums can bend over backwards to make their collections ‘relevant’ ie to provide objects which ‘resonate with what is already familiar to’ people. 13 (The MM project seemed to assume that the Somalian women would be only interested in Somalian objects.) But this is a rather simple way of thinking about relevance. The Who Cares? projects showed that if one is mindful of the possibility of resonances with deeply held inner objects / fantasies, it is impossible to predict what will be ‘relevant’.14 Example: acid jug, Doulton and Co Ltd, 1935, (Manchester Art Gallery) SLIDE The collections of many museums were gathered together in response to imperial adventures and a fear that the new industrial and political order of the 19th would destroy pre-industrial crafts. Collectors sought refuge for treasured objects in museums. I am suggesting that the museum can be imagined as a benign asylum15, a place of (mental and political) hospitality for both people and physical objects. A place where displacement (or in museum terms disposability) is not entertained. And yet displacement (disposal) – the return of people to their country of origin or of mental patients to the ‘community’, the disposal of museum objects - is in fact entertained by nations and by mental asylums, as it is by museums. And so, as with so much in life, ambivalence and ambiguity are paramount in what is done. Public collections for public health I’ve reached now the title of my talk! 12 Froggett, Who Cares? p.67 Froggett, Who Cares? p.65 14 Froggett, Who Cares? p.65 15 Khanna, Ranjana, ‘Asylum’, Texas International Law Journal 41 (2006), pp.471-490 13 8 The work I’ve described consists of small intensive and expensive projects which are not really sustainable in the long term and are not available for large numbers of people. Mark O’Neill has looked at research about the impact on health of ‘general cultural attendance’.16 Note this is about attendance rather than participation. We already know that taking part in creative activities (visual art, music making, writing) has a measurable impact on physical and mental health and we also know that the quality of one’s immediate environment makes a difference to how quickly one recovers from illness.17 But Mark O’Neill’s survey of research led him to this conclusion: SLIDE …taken together this body of research amounts to convincing evidence by medical and public health researchers that cultural attendance provides a distinct stimulus to human beings that has an impact on their well-being to such a degree that it prolongs their lives.18 The studies that he drew this conclusion from were controlled for things like age, sex, cash-buffer, educational standard, long-term disease, smoking and physical exercise. Even solitary cultural engagement makes a real difference. Culture is a separate variable from the social We don’t know what the psychological and physiological mechanisms are that give rise to these effects but we do know that cultural experiences can produce that ‘flow’ experience, or a deep sense of concentrated immersion which makes us feel good. They bring a sense of wholeness and Mark O’Neill, Cultural Attendance and Public Mental Health – From Research to Practice, Journal of Public Mental Health, 9 (4) 2010, pp22-29 17 O’Neill, Cultural Attendance, p.22 18 O’Neill, Cultural Attendance, p.25 16 9 meaningfulness. They enable people to become as engaged as they wish to be, emotionally or cognitively, alone or with people. Experiences mustn’t be so simple as to be boring or so complex to generate anxiety; the activities must be flexible so that people can deepen their engagement if they so wish.19 There is a strong moral dimension to all this. The work is not about consumer choice but rather is related to issues of equality and justice.20 If access to cultural facilities is a matter of life and death then there is a moral imperative to make it available. There is a strong case for cultural attendance to be included in public health planning and specifically in social prescribing. So in Manchester we’re talking with public health officials and looking at ways in which we can encourage more people to become habitual users. My preferred way of thinking now about museums within this field of health and wellbeing is to ask, What use might a person make of this museum? How useful can we be to individuals (from the psychotic to the moderately depressed), and to health professionals? When someone walks through the door of the Leather Museum what use can they make of it? Are they free to make their own use or do they need guidance? Do they need guidance because of their psychological state or because the Museum is incomprehensible to all except the initiated? 19 20 O’Neill, Cultural Attendance, pp.25-26 O’Neill, Cultural Attendance, p.26 10