OAS

President's Message

September/October 2009
(as published in Arch Notes New Series 14(5))

Annual OAS Symposium

I have just returned from the annual symposium held at the University of Waterloo and organized by Drs. Robert Park and Robert MacDonald. The meetings were held in the Environmental Information Technology building on the U of W campus where symposium attendees could also take in the building’s modest but well appointed geological museum.

In addition to stimulating papers and discussions and several opportunities to renew acquaintances, we were privileged to be allowed to sit in on a conference by Heather Pringle, a celebrated science writer specializing in reporting archaeology discoveries. She provided us with wonderful accounts of her work and most importantly gave out some valuable tips on getting our discoveries into popular media.

After the delicious banquet on Saturday evening, we were treated to a viewing of the 'work in progress' film on the Don Jail burials, starring Ron Williamson. While there is clearly more work to be done on the editing of the film, seeing this captivating archaeological documentary gave us a better appreciation of the amount of work involved in arriving at a final product. Moreover, we can see how such productions extend the range of our work to a whole new audience; a message quite in keeping with the symposium's theme of 'Expanding the Audience'.

On Strike!

This lunch hour (October 19), I attended a smudging ceremony performed by Stephen Augustine, the curator of Atlantic Canada ethnology and an hereditary chief of the Mi’kmaq Nation. The purpose was to provide moral support and spiritual strength to more than 400 employees of the Canadian Museum of Civilization who have been on strike since the end of September.

As I write, the two sides are not even talking to each other. Each tends to blame the other for the impasse. Deep chasms are being dug which will take years to fill in. At the same time, I worry about how this undermines the public perception of museums and the critically important work we do in learning about Canada’s human history, in disseminating information about that past and in providing Canadians and international visitors with a more accurate picture of this land's history.

There have been so many examples of upset visitors refusing to patiently be delayed for five or 10 minutes while the reasons of the strike are explained to them. There have been many examples of invective and abuse being hurled at strikers and of picketers being hit by cars. Press coverage has been oddly very uneven, making me question the values of some media who apparently chose not to provide any coverage of this work stoppage or of the reasons behind it all. And finally, now that our prime minister has seemingly redeemed himself in front of the cultural community with his singing of a Beatles song at the National Arts Centre, is the public now prepared to accept less than the best of their national cultural institutions? As tax payers, you should be concerned. As people who value your country’s heritage, you should be concerned. And if you think this is an isolated occurrence, you should look around at the museum and culture communities.

Patagonia and Louis de Buade, Comte de Frontenac

You may recall that last December I spent nearly three weeks in Chile in order to learn more about the Patagonian/Fuegian landscape and to study archaeological and ethnographic collections housed in that country (ArchNotes 14(1)). In continuing this study, with the expected result being an exhibition presenting both extremities of the American continent, I recently travelled to Paris and London in order to examine pertinent collections at the Musée du Quai Branly and the British Museum. While these were my 'targeted' visits, I also ranged widely to other museums in these cities in order to see how archaeological materials are presented and to learn from other institutions (at the end of just about each day I was away, my legs screamed with the mileage I’d added to them!).

One of the museums I visited was the Musée des antiquités nationales at Saint-Germain-en-Laye located in the western suburbs of Paris. This museum occupies a 14th century château used at various times by the kings of France. The galleries follow a chronological sequence and draw upon spectacular collections from across France. Still, by some standards, the amount of information made available is what might be considered less than abundant. Is this an oversight or does it suggest that most French visitors arrive with a surprising level of knowledge about the ancient history of their country? This same tendency towards minimalist text panels was also seen at the Musée départemental de préhistoire de l’Île de France at Nemours-St.Pierre, where their rich collections serve as backdrops for interpreters who share their knowledge of the past with visitors.

In the centre of the historic château is a large open courtyard with a chapel tucked into one corner. Then it caught my eye. You’ve all seen them, the characteristically-shaped blue with gold lettering Archaeological and Historic Sites Board of Ontario commemorative plaques. This one reminded visitors, in both English and French that Louis de Buade, Comte de Frontenac, was born in the château in 1622 and that he eventually came to New France where, among many other things, he established a settlement at the mouth of the Cataraqui River where today stands the city of Kingston. This is where Kingston, Ontario, Canada actually started.

It was quite an unexpected moment, a truly "out of country" experience where an odd concoction of ethnic and national prides was mixed with a strange sense of nostalgia. There I was in the land of my now so-distant ancestors and this plaque reminded me of how Canadian I was rather than French. I stood alone for the longest time inside the chapel, trying to hear the distant echoes of the priest baptising the newborn Louis, of the delicate trickle of water from the child’s forehead falling into the stone basin below. And while the walls were cold and silent, they bore faint traces of paint and hinted at better days as well as the hopes and dreams that would one day set out for new lands.

In many respects, this is what heritage is about; reminders of the roads travelled and a sense of how we got here. We now live in an age where we have to 'manage' heritage, as if it can be compartmentalized and controlled. In spite of what politicians and bureaucrats may think, they do not have their hands on the tiller of our patrimony. That role and privilege belongs to all of us. As people keen to learn from the past, as consultants, academics, avocationals or merely individuals interested and passionate about archaeology, we all have an equal voice in determining how that legacy is shaped for our children's children. It can be argued that the voice of the OAS is a voice for the past. But it can also be advanced that we speak for those yet to be born.

Jean-Luc Pilon