Marguerite-Bourgeoys Museum

As I've mentioned before, destination architecture is becoming commonplace among major museums. In Toronto, the Royal Ontario Museum and the Art Gallery of Ontario commissioned high-profile architects to enhance their buildings' facades. The hope is that the awe-inspiring and sometimes notorious designs will help get people through the doors. The Marguerite-Bourgeoys Museum in Old Montreal is located within the Notre-Dame-de-Bon-Secours Chapel. The 300 building is the antithesis of high-profile contemporary museum architecture, but it is worth being a destination.


The visit begins with a trip up the antique staircase to the top of the tower. The view at the top is impressive. In one direction we see La Ronde, the Old Port, Nun's Island, and the Jacques-Cartier bridge, in the other direction is Bonsecours market, Old Montreal, and beyond that downtown Montreal. It was nice to escape the crowded touristy street, climb up into the chapel tower and take in the view.


Unfortunately, the actual exhibits leave a lot to be desired. I learned a lot more about Marguerite Bourgeoys at Maison Gabriel, than I did at her eponymous museum. To be fair they are in the process of renovating sections of the museum, but the exhibits that were up are sorely in need of organization, direction, and beefed-up content. There are timelines that talk about Marguerite's life and journey to New France but much of the text was kind of cheesy. For example, "The most precious baggage that Marguerite brought to Canada was not to be found in her simple bundle. It was in her heart - the heritage of her city, family values..." Or, verging on the condescending: "In Marguerite's day, there weren't any cars, metros or buses in Montreal." The map of locations she frequented by foot, and the availability of a tour that follows her footsteps would have been sufficient. When exhibits are well-organized and well-displayed the text becomes more effective. When viewers have random panels and no sense of structure, problems in the text become more problematic.


The crypt is barely worth seeing. Random, undated archaeological samples mingle with artifacts from the chapel with little sense of why. The organizational theme seems to be that there was an empty space to fill. The temporary exhibit next to the crypt demonstrates a higher level of polish and exhibitionary sophistication, suggesting that with the proper resources the museum could become a much more engaging space. Ultreïa! Onward, pilgrim tells the stories of modern day pilgrims. Connecting the stories of Marguerite Bourgeoys to modern incarnations is a great way of relating information and helping visitors connect the past to the present. Profiles of pilgrims, including a biography, reason for pilgrammage, experiences on the road, and special objects from their trips, is an engaging way of displaying contemporary pilgrammage.


From there you move into the last three galleries, which are again about Marguerite. One contains dollhouse sized glass displays of her life told in miniatures. These are quite creepy but have been made over the years by the dedicated sisters of the congregation, and are a more interesting way of telling her story than a timeline. The one room with didactics that expand on Marguerite and her work was definitely a failure. Weird holographic shadow boxes reconstruct her day to day life, an example how expensive technology can often be completely unnecessary. I would have loved to know more about her work, her impact, her legacy, and her relevance. The one successful room houses Marguerite's True Likeness. The painting, made immediately after her death, was subsequently altered to match the tastes of later generations. On the assumption that the painting had been changed, a restoration process was undertaken to reveal her true likeness. The text details this process and the restored portrait is safely behind glass as the focal point of the room.

This museum has the potential to be a hidden gem in Old Montreal, but a seeming lack of curatorial and educational effort throughout much of the displays prevents it from being as engaging as it could.

14 down, 18 to go.

Musée des maîtres et artisans du Québec

It's a weird feeling to walk into a museum and recognize several of the objects on display; not because you're familiar with the work but because the objects are the same as ones in your house. My parent's home is a carefully curated collection of antiques and family heirlooms and does at times feel a bit like a museum. Nonetheless, to walk into the the Musée des maîtres et artisans du Québec and see our living room armoire is slightly bizarre.

The museum's mission is to promote Quebec's cultural heritage, including traditional and contemporary arts and crafts. The museum is located in a 19th century Neo-Gothic church, the interior of which provides a striking backdrop for displays about craft. A large portion of the museum's collection is religious objects. Displaying said objects in a secular way inside a building which would have been the former setting for their spiritual purpose is interesting. We are asked to revere these objects and to understand their purpose and we are asked to do so in a former house of worship. Yet the experience is meant to be aesthetic and educational and not spiritual. The church becomes a temple for the secular ritual of looking at objects but unlike a typical museum where the white walls highlight the art, here the interior competes for attention. What stands out are the intricately carved wooden beams and sculptures and the colourful stained glass windows that echo the work and skill of the objects explicitly on display.

One of my professors at U of T said that if you needed information about an object you should flip it over and have a good look at its bottom. The Musée shows several object's undersides with their seals or maker's marks. The Musée is a lesson in material culture. Displays teach viewers to see, to develop a visual literacy around the objects on display. Display explain how to tell the difference between the work of a master carver and a craftsman (and the value of both) or between an antique and a fake. We learn what now unfamiliar objects would have been used for, which ones are more valuable than others, what materials are used in different time periods, how objects are crafted etc. By including elements of connoisseurship in the exhibits the museum is helping visitors feel less daunted by the objects on the display and also suggests that engaging with material culture on a deeper level is attainable. I appreciate the transparency in the approach to display and in the didactics, as it suits that kind of collection.

It wouldn't be a trip to a Montreal museum without a comment on language. My mom and I were both very impressed with the English text panels in the permanent collection. Not only were they gramatically correct but they were clearly written in English rather than directly translated from French. Refreshing. The temporary exhibition, in honour of Montreal: City of Glass, had such awful English didactics that it would have been better not to include them. Suddenly the words I was reading no longer made sense. The present tense was the only tense employed which just contributed to a confusing mess of sentences. My mom figures that the text was fed into some kind of automatic online text translator, and then created into text panels by someone who has never heard of a language other than French. This is an issue of sloppy curatorial practice. I don't care how small or understaffed a museum is, if text panels are going to go up on the wall, they should be legible.

The museum is free on Wednesdays and fairly inexpensive on other days.

13 down, 19 to go.

Detour: Ottawa

The way that objects are displayed, and the information that accompanies them, can both enhance and detract from a visitor's experience. Having studied museums it can be easy to focus on display, curatorial decisions, and didactics at the expense of the objects. Yet while my museum side wants to focus on the whole, I very much enjoy those moments when an artwork grabs my attention. That moment where I spot something that makes my eyes widen can happen because I recognize the artist but haven't seen that particular work, because I've always wanted to see it in person, or because I appreciate the message the artist is conveying. Those are the nerdy reasons. Sometimes its just because I like it. Like the colours, the shapes, the composition, the subject matter... I have been known to gasp "oooh sheep!" while making a beeline for a canvas full of furry subjects. Okay that actually happens fairly often. But my recent museum experiences have mostly been historical and I've been missing that feeling of seeing something that momentarily takes my breath away. The solution? A trip to Ottawa. This past weekend a friend graciously provided me with a couch to crash on for five days of gallery hopping and general art nerdiness. While I have friends and family in Montreal whom I can convince to accompany me on various museum expeditions, none share my academic or professional interests in quite the same way as Sheena, a Montreal friend currently in Ottawa working on her PhD. So while everyone else in the city was gearing up for Grand Prix weekend and a slew of local festivals, I escaped.

On Friday we toured the largely unremarkable Ottawa Art Gallery (save for an exhibition that highlighted student artwork next to the objects from the collection that inspired them) before heading over to the Carleton University Art Gallery. The CUAG's current exhibition cycle is cause for wonderment, appreciation and exclamation. Frank Shebageget's subtle use of familiar objects in unexpected ways was strikingly beautiful. Diana Thornycroft's large scale photographs of dioramas that place figures into the Group of Seven's iconic landscapes or expose uncomfortable truths in Canadian history were witty, disturbing, intelligent, and unforgettable. Into the Hands of Women: Inuit Uluiit and Qulliit was smart and intriguing and A Leap of Imagination: The Barwick Gift reminded me that I really do enjoy David Milne.

En route to Carleton

On Sunday we saw Pop Life: Art in a Material World, the National Gallery of Canada's big summer show. The show opens with Andy Warhol's critically panned late-career move into the cult of celebrity as a catalyst and influence for subsequent artists. "Like Warhol," the curators tell us "the artists in Pop Life have found that marketing and publicity provide a means of engaging modern life on its own terms, beyond the confines of the studio, the gallery and the museum." To support their thesis the curators recreate Keith Haring's Pop Shop and Damien Hirst's record breaking 2008 auction, they illustrate how artists branded themselves to sell their art, and they displayed how artists cross the boundaries between fine art and commercial output. The show was adapted to a Canadian context and Canada loves a chronological mode of display. In this instance I think it did the curators a disservice as the show's themes became broken up by time periods, which didn't do much for the subject matter. From an academic standpoint I think the show may almost be more interesting as a book (for me the text was the most intriguing element) but it does have worthwhile moments.

Make Your Mark, a blackboard room that visitors can tag in the spirit of Pop Art

Monday I made an exhausted trip to the Canadian Museum of Civilization. Their summer blockbuster The Horse offers a family friendly option for those not wanting to see Jeff Koon's pornographic photos over at the NGC. I found it unremarkable but the simple, straightforward text, hands-on elements, and mix of aesthetic and educational displays will probably be successful. I was there on a Monday and it was packed.

Now I'm home and taking a bit of a break. Although I have 20 Montreal museums still to see, and I'd like to get that done by the end of the summer. Fingers crossed.

www.dianathorneycroft.com
www.cuag.carleton.ca
www.gallery.ca
www.civilization.ca

And the winner for the longest museum name goes to...

The Musée des Hospitalières de l’Hôtel-Dieu de Montréal.

The museum is in the McGill Ghetto and as I walk up Parc I see suitcases outside of one the residences. Summer is here and students are leaving. The ones who are left, along with other people not at work on a Friday afternoon, are lounging around in the sun on Mount Royal. I, on the other hand, am heading indoors to a museum about religious hospital workers. My fifteen minute walk to the museum has giving me all the sun my pale face can handle for the day, so I'm happy to be inside despite the less than thrilling subject matter. The woman at the front desk is even happier. Something tells me that she doesn't get too many visitors.

I am the only person in the museum and the docent gives me a introduction to the building and the exhibits. The atrium was built to accomodate a restored wooden staircase that was in a Hôtel-Dieu in France, where Jeanne Mance would have been before she founded the Hôtel-Dieu de Montreal. The museum tells of the origins of Montreal and the Hotel-Dieu with a look at medical practices of the time and the mission of the Hospitalières de Saint-Joseph religious order, whose nuns cared for the sick. What was once a 210-bed facility is now a hospital with 570 beds affiliated with the University of Montreal.

Montreal's history is inextricably linked to that of the Hôtel-Dieu, a reality that came about after a Frenchman named Le Royer had mystical visions to create a Hôtel-Dieu in Montreal and establish a colony to evangelize the Native peoples. Le Royer never left France and yet he is largely responsible for shaping New France. The museum commemorates the hospitallers and the Hôtel-Dieu's history. As such it doesn't question their mission in New France or the impact they had on the Native population. One text panel reads: "The Iroquois harassed Ville-Marie once again in 1661, killing 12 and capturing 20." Ugh.

The museum is a history museum heavy with text panels. As always there were some questionable English translations: "absolutism became definitive," "10:30 am the nuns gather for particular examen," but I am getting used to these and try to find them amusing rather than annoying. The information is supported by documents, portraits, maps, and religious artifacts.
A patient registry from 1759 indicates that everyone was named Jean, Francois, or Jean-Francois, so nothing much has changed. I particularly liked the recreation of a nun's cell and I'm sure if will be a great conversation starter for school kids.

Perhaps kids will also like the mannequins dressed as nuns. Life sized mannequins freak me out. What freaks me out even more is a glass casket containing a life-sized man, with bloody arms and half-dead eyes. The labels weren't numbered but I believe it was the reliquary of Saint Felix, made in Italy in 1865. Seriously creepy. But it was unexpected and actually kind of woke me up after leaving a very text-heavy gallery.

I did not expect that the Musée des Hospitalières de l’Hôtel-Dieu de Montréal would be a thrilling museum. I did learn things, albeit some of the information is questionable. More importantly I'm starting to build a picture of Montreal's history that is more complex than what I learned in school. Visiting so many museums in this city adds to my conceptual scaffolding about Montreal and how it was shaped. Granted I think that many aspects of our history are left out, but I see that my museum mission is starting to have its desired outcome. So what did I learn this afternoon? I learned that hospitaller is a word. I learned that people on the boat rides over from France in the 17th century were subjected to under-nourishment (their word) and promiscuity, which any crossing to America implied.... I learned that a nun named Marie Morin, the first hospitaller born in Canada, was also Canada's first writer (she documented the nuns' lived experiences) and I am presently learning that the internet has no record of this woman. I learned that nuns in the Hôtel-Dieu lived life in the cloisters from 1671 to 1925 when Rome banned the practice, althought the visible signs of the cloisture were not removed until the 1950s. I learned that until the mid-18th century medical practice was basically powerless in curing illness. I also learned that nursing was the prerogative of religious communities until the development of medical techniques. However it was only in 1970, with the introduction of the Health Insurance Act and the implementation of universal health care that religious communities ceased to have administrative control over the care of the sick.

I appreciate this particular museum as part of my larger experience of Montreal museums and what they say about the city. I think that there is a lot of information in the permanent exhibit and the exhibition space is well laid out which quality displays. The temporary exhibit, which was only in French, repeated much of what was described in the permanent exhibit. The museum was interesting. Not my favourite, but I could definitely have spent more time reading.

12 down, 20 to go.

Montreal Museums Day

Sunday May 30th is Montreal Museums Day. From 9am to 6pm, participating museums will offer free access to their collections and exhibitions as well as family activities. Demonstrations, workshops, concerts, and guided tours are among the activities offered by participating museums. Free shuttles will be available to take participants along the designated museum routes. This year's Museums Day theme is glass, because for the duration of 2010 Montreal museums have joined forces for thematic exhibitions and programming around glass. Montreal City of Glass. Not exactly thrilling but the idea of pan-institutional programming that can create layered learning experiences is fairly exciting.

A day such as this is a great opportunity to get out and experience the diversity of cultural experiences that Montreal has to offer. Which museums will you enjoy, which ones will you dislike, and which ones will make you want to come back? I will spending the day helping out with the activities at the Redpath Museum and I look forward to hearing about people's experiences.

More information can be found at www.museesmontreal.org.

Centre d'histoire de Montreal

According to its website the Centre d'histoire de Montréal is the city museum that "offers you the key to discovering Montreal’s multiple identities." I have to say I very much doubted that any Montreal museum, particularly one billed as the city museum, would really be able to delve into our city's multiple identities. The Centre d'histoire, which has no English translation, doesn't do the best or particularly unbiased job at exhibiting complexity, but it does make a fair attempt.

The permanent exhibit comprises five separate displays that explore different time periods in the city's history. The museum intends for visitors to feel like time travelers discovering different eras. "You'll discover the famous places of the day and meet some of the people who made history... quite unaware." Huh? The French version makes more sense, as it does throughout the museum. But as I've learned recently from a contact who works in a Montreal museum, it is generally more important for English text to be a literal translation of French text than to be a sensical read. Thus the predominant use of inappropriate exclamation points, which French writers seem to love but which would never fly in an English institution. "In short, to save the Natives from eternal damnation!," or "The Depression was no fun at all!" Oh, of course, thanks for clarifying.

I've learned not to let issues like crappy translation get in the way of my Montreal museum-going experiences, because said issues are common across the board and reflect larger cultural concerns that I can't do anything about. Despite moments of laughing out loud, checking the French text to figure out what the hell was going on, and being overheard muttering "oh French people" to myself, I did learn a lot. Many, many street names in Montreal are named after saints. Or so I thought. Turns out the Saint part was added to the name of a local dignitary. So Paul de Chomedey, founder of Montreal, is honoured by a street named Saint-Paul. Who knew? I was also intrigued by the story of the now defunct local brewery that made Dow beer. The company poured 500, 000 gallons of beer into the St-Lawrence river after 16-40 deaths in Quebec were attributed to an overconsumption of Dow beer. Subsequently the brewery became the Dow Planetarium in 1967. I appreciate a history museum that links the present to the past and shows how a city has evolved. I also liked the mix of official more common historical approaches with material culture studies.

As museums attempt to remain relevant in a rapidly changing social and cultural landscape, tools like computer interactives and touch screen displays become more predominant. I can't stand these things. Some museums, like the National Museum of the American Indian in Washington D.C. use touch screens to provide close up views and contextual information for objects on display, but most provide silly fairly useless interactives. I don't believe that technological tools engage people any more than a regular display. Case in point, the Centre d'histoire had plenty of terminals that said "touch screen" with nothing to actually touch or manipulate. Fail.

I was much more interested in the simpler interactive tools such as quizzes. The museum has tons of opportunities to engage audiences, primarily young audiences, and as such would be a great family destination. I liked the multiple choice questions in the permanent exhibit, although some seemed kind of stereotypical. I suppose that as I advanced in my education my understanding of certain topics became correspondingly more complex, and sometimes I forget that we have to start somewhere. I also know that exhibits that provide visitors with too much information that is incongruous with their own understandings will alienate rather than inform. The Centre d'histoire does a good job of clarifying that the information is relevant to a specific time period but I think it could do a better job of creating nuance and could question, rather than reinforce, certain cultural assumptions. In addition, some statements were just offensive. One text panel reads: “You can find everything in Montreal. Everything to help you hide your eyes from some uncomfortable truths.” This is juxtaposed with a large image of a homeless youth. Inappropriate? Je pense que oui.

Made in Montreal? is an exhibit about products that are, well, made in Montreal. One room includes accession information and curatorial research behind everyday products. I like this kind of transparency as I think its important to explain to the public how museums do what they do. I also believe that when you're going to exhibit common everyday objects behind glass, the average visitor wants to know why. The exhibit does a decent job of delving into Montreal's history through a history of local industry and commercial output.

The Centre d’histoire de Montreal is not a thrilling or wildly exciting museum. Nevertheless, taking its content with a grain of salt I learned some interesting things about my city and its history. I was also reminded that while it’s important for museums to adapt, sometimes there’s no need to reinvent the wheel. Updated content, in my opinion, is more important than updated display tactics. Man I wish I could rewrite the text panels in Montreal's museums...

11 down. 21 to go.

Nature Museums

Before I moved to Toronto for school I spent the summer doing “Montreal” things. As any self-respecting Montrealer would, I dreaded the thought of living in Toronto. So before I left I embarked on a mission of sorts to fortify my Montrealness. One of my destinations was the Biodôme, a museum that recreates some of the ecosystems of the Americas namely the tropical forest, the Laurentian forest, the St. Lawrence Marine ecosystem, and the Arctic and Antarctic. There’s nothing particularly “Montreal” about the Biodome except that is one of our major tourist attractions. The Biodôme, Insectarium and Botanical Gardens, and Planetarium, are part of what is called the Montreal Nature Museums and are operated by the city. Having an affinity for animals I’ve been to the Biodôme several times in the last few years but it’s been a while since I’ve visited either the Insectarium or the Botanical Gardens.

I visited all three museums on a double date. Going to a museum with a group of friends is very different from going alone. You spend less time at each exhibit, skimming more and reading less. It becomes more of a social activity than an educational one, but the learning potential is still there as each person picks up tidbits and shares with the group. As the “museum person,” I find myself wanting to explain the museum, apologize for its shortcomings, point out what people missed. Going with non-museum friends reminds me that the general public doesn’t see the museum content the way we expect or hope that they will. What I find scary, and frustrating, is when people use exhibits as an opportunity to misinform their friends or family. I’ve often seen visitors position their opinions as facts, and said “facts” in opposition to those presented by the museum. Not that a museum’s authority can’t be questioned, it can and should, but it’s frustrating to watch parents use a museum’s exhibits to provide their children with unfounded information.

Since the Biodôme consists of habitats, there are no displays to change, no new exhibits. One new addition was an orange plastic caiman above the caiman habitat. A text panel reads: “Want to make a wish? Before you do, you should know that our caimans happily gobble anything thrown into their basin.” Visitors are asked to instead make a wish and throw a coin down the plastic caiman. Money goes to fund environmental projects in line with the Biodôme’s mission. It can be difficult to navigate a museum, albeit the Biodome does not feel like a museum, and most signs tell visitors what they can and cannot do without an explanation. I thought that it was refreshing to see that the museum is explaining to people why their actions are harmful and instead is offering a preferred and beneficial alternative.

All three institutions offer many didactic opportunities, but what they offer for casual visitors is simply an opportunity to look, to see specimens that we wouldn’t ordinarily be able to see in person. They offer us the wondrous and the fantastic although with less than ideal text panels and bad English translations.

10 down. 22 to go.