Medical Collections Not for the Faint of Heart

Earlier this year my peers and I in the Public History program had the opportunity to examine UWO's Medical Artifact Collection under the instruction of Dr. Michelle A. Hamilton. As all of us can attest, this collection was equal parts fascinating and grotesque; it was amazing to be able to get our (gloved) hands on 19th century medical artifacts and learn how to handle and examine them as true historians and/or museum curators would, but I'm sure few of us can forget the dried blood that remained on the blades of some of the saws and scalpels, even after nearly a century of disuse.

In my position this summer as the Archives Assistant at the Sunnybrook Health Science Centre Archives my first task was to catalogue all of the archive' s photographic holdings. The majority of the collection consisted of aerial views, interior and exterior shots of the hospital under construction and various departments, equipment and staff from the 1970s. To be honest, for the most part the photos were a bit of a snooze. Thankfully, every once in a while there was a photographic gem (like the black and white shot from the 1940s of an Italian prisoner of war who was undergoing physiotherapy after having one of his legs amputated from the knee down) to keep things interesting.

This week, however, I've moved on to cataloguing the archive's Medical Art Collection. While this means a fair bit of wading through past hospital brochures and stationary layouts for printers, it also means discovering some really beautiful and detailed anatomical sketches that were originally commissioned from the hospital's Art Department by doctors for teaching or learning purposes.

My favourite find so far - hands down - is the file of facial sketches that were done for a doctor that was about to undertake reconstructive surgery of a patient's nose. The file contains various reference materials (e.g. Polaroid's of a human skull, anatomical sketches from a textbook of the underlying structure of muscles, veins, etc. in a human face, and photographs of the actual patient before surgery). The artist then used those items to complete a series of sketches of the patient himself, what the patient's skull structure likely looked like and what certain nerve systems, veins and/or arteries looked like. The artist then layered all of these sketches over each other to complete a final sketch of the patient which showed all of these different parts in relation to each other.

After the drawings were complete, the doctor who had commissioned the sketches then added his own notes about the surgery overtop of them, indicating where arteries and veins were layered closely together, where certain systems were buried under deeper layers of tissue and cautioning himself to not "put the incision too close to the margin of [the] nostril."

As the title of this blog posts suggests, the final pieces of the file were considerably more graphic than pen and ink sketches and doctor's surgical notes and definitely not for the faint of heart or the squeemish: included in the file were photographs of the patient taken during the procedure when part of his nose had been removed and immediately post-op when stitches and bruising were evident.

To see the artist's process from beginning to end was fascinating enough on its own, but then it was also really neat to see evidence of the use to which the sketch was put. It definitely added another layer to my appreciation of medical art and how items from the archives could/should be used to educate and engage the public at the hospital. With its combination of art, education and enough of the "grotesque" to fascinate without sensationalizing or exploiting the patient (sometimes a thin line for the public historian to walk), the file in its entirety would make an excellent exhibit for one of the hospital's display cases. In fact, this might be exactly the type of public history-related project that I suggest to my supervisor that I take on by the end of the summer.

We'll see. I'll keep you posted.

[Note: Artwork by P. Cunningham, posted with permission from the Sunnybrook Archives]

Toronto Opens Its Doors

Last weekend 150 buildings of architectural, historic, cultural and/or social significance in the City of Toronto open their doors to the public for their 11th Annual Doors Open Toronto event. This year’s theme revolved around architecture within the city and offered the public a number of opportunities to focus their attention on the craftsmanship of some truly extraordinary local buildings and historic sites. And, if my own sore feet and sunburned head are any indication of the kind of time that everyone else had, I’d say that this year’s event was a rousing success.

In past years I’ve participated in Doors Open events solely as a spectator; clutching the Toronto Star Program Guide in one hand, I’ve targeted an area of the city with plenty of properties within walking distance of each other and set off (usually by myself) to enjoy a day of free sight-seeing, something people rarely take time to do in their own backyard.

This year, however, was a little different than most. As part of my internship with the Ontario Jewish Archives, I volunteered to help out at the OJA’s Doors Open Toronto site, the Pape Avenue Cemetery.

Established by Judah Joseph and Abraham Nordheimer in 1849 on a ½ acre of land on what was then Centre Street, the Pape Avenue Cemetery was Toronto’s first Jewish cemetery. As such, it is the final resting place of a number of the city’s first and most prominent Jewish residents, including Judah Joseph’s own son, whose illness first prompted Joseph and Nordheimer to seek out a more local Jewish burial site (in the 1840s the closest Jewish cemeteries were in Montreal and Buffalo, nearly a full day away by horse and buggy). Unfortunately, over the years many of the cemetery’s early stones, including the one for Joseph’s son, have toppled over and sunk into the ground so that they are no longer visible.

Due to space restrictions in the city, the cemetery was closed to new burials in the 1950s. Since then, the beautiful iron gates which lead to the property have rarely been open to anyone other than the property’s Christian caretaker and a thick cover of ivy on the gates have kept even the most curious Toronto resident from being able to sneak a peek. This year’s Doors Open event marked the first time in decades that the cemetery was open to the general public and as such generated quite a large interest from the public (a mention in both the Globe and Mail and the National Post as a site of special interest didn’t hurt either, I’d assume).

While a number of Doors Open sites allow the visitor to wander freely or provide them with a pamphlet of some sort, Ellen Scheinberg, Director of the OJA and one of my internship coordinators this summer, instead chose to organize a 15 minute tour of the site for visitors. This allowed members of the public to interact directly with or ask questions of knowledgeable volunteers and members of Toronto’s Jewish Community, including a representative of the Holy Blossom Synagogue (which is responsible for the site) and Susan Brown, a local artist and art teacher who was able to speak about the significance and history of the carvings on the headstones.

Throughout the day, my main role was to act as a gopher, helping to register visitors to the site, have them sign legal waivers before they could enter the cemetery and then organize them into manageable tour groups for the guides.

Although my role was a supporting one, it was very interesting to observe and talk to members of the public that came to this event. Through this, I was able to get a feel for the type of people in Toronto that are interested in local history and heritage, especially with that which is specific to the city’s Jewish community. As well, I was able to sit back and notice the types of people who were missing from the cross-section of visitors (mainly twenty-somethings) and think about ways for the Ontario Jewish Archives to engage this section of the population in future events. Finally, the event also exposed me to the realities of running this type of initiative and all of the work that most go into it months in advance in order to ensure that it is successful.

It was a long, scorching hot day, but a fun one nonetheless. I definitely can’t wait to do it again next year!

Facets of Fame

During my meeting with Ellen Scheinberg of the Ontario Jewish Archives this week, she suggested that I may be interested in seeing the Facets of Fame: Portraits of Toronto Photographer Al Gilbert photography exhibit which is currently on display at The Market Gallery in the St. Lawrence Market on Lower Jarvis Street, Toronto. Although the exhibit runs until September 11th, 2010, Ellen suggested that I visit it as soon as possible as a way to expose myself to one of the OJA’s most recent projects and to see first-hand one of the various ways that the archive is seeking to engage the public in unexpected public spaces.

Although what I know about the art of photography could barely fill a thimble, I’ve always admired the work of those who have the ability to look at people, places and things and capture them on film in unique and bold ways. Since my mother also had the day off work, I suggested that she come with me and off we went to see the work of one of the country’s most respected portrait photographers.

The exhibit begins – quite suitably, I think – with the work of Al Gilbert’s father, Nathan, the man who first exposed Al to the world of photograph and taught him the basics of the trade in their family’s photography studio during the 1920s and 1930s. Nathan’s work included dozens of clever family photographs of bar mitzvahs, birthdays, vacations, holidays and everyday life that all seemed just a little bit cheeky.

My favourite photo from this section of the exhibit would have to be the photo in which Nathan layered a photo of himself over a photo of President John F. Kennedy to make it appear as though the two men were having a discussion in the Oval Office. In the days of Adobe Photoshop, this might not seem like a big deal, but when you think about all the work that had to go into creating this absolutely seamless image in the 1920s, the outcome is astounding.

The majority of the exhibit, however, featured more than 75 portraits taken by Al Gilbert over the course of his career and was broken down into sections which included luminaries from Toronto’s Jewish and non-Jewish communities (e.g. Michael Lee-Chin, Mel Lastman, Ed Mirvish, etc.), as well as figures of national and international importance (e.g. Pope John Paul II, Frank Sinatra, Prime Minister Diefenbaker and others). And, under each photograph, the OJA has mounted not only a description of the accomplishments of the person in the photo, but also the techniques and equipment which Mr. Gilbert used to achieve the final product, a two-pronged tactic which, in my opinion, gives the exhibit more depth and appeal to a wider audience than if they had only included one type of detail or the other.

Although a number of photos made me stop and take an extra moment to fully admire them, there was a small handful that simply gripped me by the throat and demanded my attention as true works of art. For example, the black and white photo of jazz legend Oscar Peterson, which was used for the brochure of the exhibit’s launch event was breathtaking. The lighting and composition were simple enough, even classic, but there was something about the way that Gilbert captured every crack in the man’s skin and the light in his eyes that moved me. Another favourite of mine was the one of Ed Mirvish taken in one of his theatres. Mirvish was wearing this really bold striped suit and a more subtly stripped tie in yellows and black and he contrasted amazingly with the pure red of the rest of the frame (the seats, walls and carpets were all the same shade of red, although patterned differently). It was definitely more playful than the Peterson image, but no less striking.

A few of the images (like that of Frank Sinatra and the Pope), I could have done without but I think that was because the rest of Gilbert’s photos were so amazing that I was absurdly let down when they were merely good. Also, I wasn’t always of fan of the photos in which he layered a dignitary overtop of a print of a place which had meaning to them (e.g. combining a photo of Mel Lastman with one of Mel Lastman Square at night or the bishop and his church), but I’m sure that says more about my personal aesthetic than Gilbert’s abilities as a photographer.

The exhibit is free and easy to get to. I highly recommend that anyone living in or visiting Toronto this summer drop by and enjoy the photographs before they disappear back into the archival holdings at the OJA.

Public History is Alive and Well in the Archives

It probably comes as no surprise to anyone reading this blog that I’ve always been enamored with museums. As a child my parents made sure to expose both my brother and I to as many museums as possible. And, whether these were traditional or living heritage, large or small, they were a staple of family vacations, day trips and parentally-supported school outings. Occasionally, my parents even managed to schedule museum visits for after games when we’d travel for soccer tournaments (they were sneaky like that). Most of the time, I loved wandering from room to room looking at artifacts and dioramas. And when I didn’t? Well, I still learned something. More importantly, I learned to appreciate the important role that museums play in caring for the history, heritage, culture and values of a place and/or a people.

Even with all that interest in museums, I had never given much thought to archives and the role that they play within a community. In fact, I’m almost ashamed to admit that the first time I ever stepped foot into an archive I was already in my fourth year of university. I certainly never envisioned myself – a scant 8 months since starting the Public History program at UWO – working in one archive and volunteering at another. But, this summer I’m doing both.

The main portion of my internship this summer will take place at the Sunnnybrook Archives (SBA) in Toronto where I’ll be an archives assistant to a graduate of UWO’s Public History program, Phil Gold.

The Sunnybrook Archives exists primarily to collect, organize, describe, make available and preserve records materials of historical, legal, and administrative value to Sunnybrook Health Sciences Centre. As the Archives Assistant, I’ll be working in all areas of the archives, including working first-hand with print and graphic records, and with medical artifacts and other college memorabilia. My primary duty will be to assist Phil with the arrangement and description of the collection (specifically the archive’s Department of Veterans’ Affairs Fonds) according to RAD standards in preparation for the submission of a fonds level description to ARCHAEION. It’ll probably be a tedious and exacting process, but one that I’ll learn a great deal about archival practices from.

Since my contract with Sunnybrook Archives is only part time, I’ll be making up the remaining hours of my internship by volunteering at the Ontario Jewish Archives working on a number of archival and public history projects. To begin with, I’ll be helping organize/work “front of house” activities at the archive’s Doors Open Toronto site this weekend. From there I’ll move onto doing an inventory and some digitization of the archival holdings belonging to R.H. McGregor Elementary School in Toronto in preparation for a more extensive school history section on their webpage and a display for the school’s entryway. I’ll also have a hand in a few smaller projects, including helping to organize the OJA’s summer tours, helping update one of the Holocaust Education Centre’s displays and working on a number of item level RAD-compliant descriptions and digitization of some of the archive’s photographic records.

There are two other major projects that I’ll be working on at the OJA this summer and I’m very excited to have the opportunity to have a hand in both of them. The first is a podcast to accompany the OJA’s Facets of Fame: Portraits by Toronto Photographer Al Gilbert display at the Market Gallery in the St. Lawrence Market (see Facets of Fame blog post). I’ll be responsible for setting up interviews with some of the artist’s subjects for inclusion in the podcast, scanning images from the exhibit and helping to create a script for the podcast (Look Ma, I’m writing for the public!). The second major project that I’ll be working on is the continuation of the OJA’s huge oral history project. The project aims to record the stories of WWII veterans and I’ll be responsible for scheduling interviews, conducting pre-interviews and accessioning the videos once they have been recorded.

The summer’s barely begun and already I’m feeling very lucky to have the opportunity to work with the Director of the Ontario Jewish Archives, Ellen Scheinberg, who has been kind enough to include me in so many of the institution’s public history projects. The wide variety of projects she has schedule for me to help on will surely broaden my exposure and practical hands-on experience with public history in the “real world.”

If I Had a Million Dollars... Camp X Artifacts Up For Sale

The Camp X Exhibit at the Oshawa Airport is full of neat stuff: a dagger hidden in a lipstick case, a fountain pen that shoots poisonous gas and a revolver concealed in a hollowed out book, to list but a few items. As Toronto Star reporter, Carola Vyhnak, points out in her March 4th article, this is the stuff of fiction. In fact, it's exactly these type of gadgets that you might expect to read about in a James Bond novel.

This comparison between fact and fiction is hardly surprising when you consider that Bond author, Ian Fleming, spent part of WWII in Camp X, a spy training facility on the Oshawa-Whitby border near the shore of Lake Ontario.

The collection, which was compiled and largely owned by history buff Robert Stuart, has spent the past 33 years exhibited to the public, most recently in the Ontario Regiment building at the Oshawa Airport as part of the Robert Stuart Aeronautical Collection. Poorly advertised and rarely open, I only discovered the existence of this collection 3 or 4 years ago. Since then school, work, and a year spent in Korea has kept me from visiting the exhibit. And now, the opportunity may be lost to me forever - a pretty harsh lesson in "(s)he who hesitates" for an historian to learn.

On February 24th, historian Lynn Philip Hodgson (mentioned in my February post on the Battle of Bowmanville at Camp 30) contacted local papers after discovering that the entire collection of Camp X artifacts were poised for an internet auction block. Since then, a flurry of controversy has surrounded this usually obscure collection.

Since Stuart's death nearly seven years ago, the collection has been privately owned by his wife, Lois, and his daughter, Deidre, two women who are about to become responsible for selling off a significant piece of Durham Region's (and Canada's) rich wartime history "for personal reasons."

Like many private collections, the Camp X artifacts came together relatively organically over a period of several decades, with many of the pieces attained through private sales and auctions. Other items were accessioned into the collection through donations or long-term loans from veterans or the families of those that had worked at the Camp. Many of these donations and long-term loans were made in good faith in the form of a "gentleman's agreement" and a handshake between Mr. Stuart and the donor. Little, if any, paperwork was ever completed to outline the terms of these transactions.

Now, with the impending sale of the collection, a number of donors and family members have come forward to demand their family heirlooms back. As far as they were concerned, the items were on loan only so long as they were being displayed locally and in a respectful manner; they never intended for the Stuart family to profit off of their history and memories.

Deirdre Stuart has little sympathy for the people who donated to her father's collection. In an interview with the Toronto Star she was quoted as saying, “[i]f you didn’t put it in writing, you pretty much gave it to us... Like, hello? How stupid are people. We’ve had this museum for 33 years. It’s ours.”

Clearly, Ms. Stuart is no gentleman.

Although the loss of local history that would accompany the sale of this collection is immensely disturbing to me and it saddens me to say this, it is my understanding that the Stuart family is well within their legal rights to sell the artifacts however they see fit (provided that they adhere to all applicable laws concerning the sale of cultural artifacts). Public museums are legally restricted from selling artifacts unless they can provide extensive paper records proving their ownership of the item(s) (e.g. a receipt of purchase or a deed of gift). In instances where items are found in a collection but lack proper paperwork, these museums are legally required to keep and care for the artifacts for several decades before they may deaccession them. Unfortunately, private collections are not bound by the same standards. And, since theirs is a private museum, the Stuarts, in the absence of paperwork, have implicit legal right to items in their possession.

Thankfully, it at least seems as if the Canadian government isn't going to let this collection leave the country without a fight. As of March 20th, the Canadian Department of Heritage has "opened a dossier" on the artifacts and is looking into whether some of these items may be able to be protected from international sale under restrictions outlined in the Cultural Property Export and Import Act. For Canada's sake, let's hope this is so. Better yet, let's hope that a Canadian cultural institution (*cough* Canadian War Museum *cough*) steps up and buys the entire collection so that Ms. Stuart is not allowed to break it up and sell the unprotected items piece by piece.

On a local level, Hodgson and other concerned members of the community (including a number of local veterans from the aptly named Sir William Stephenson Branch of the Royal Canadian Legion) have stepped forward to coordinate fundraising efforts in order to save the collection. The Legion is currently accepting donations that will be used to purchase and house the collection permanently in Durham Region (an outcome that I selfishly find most favourable). If the campaign is successful, not only will the collection remain in Canada, but it will remain in Durham Region and on display to the public.

If you'd like to donate and ensure that the collection stays together and in Canada, you can do so by sending the Legion a cheque with "Save the Collection" in the memo section (see their website for more details). You may also want to follow this issue as it develops via the Save the Collection group on Facebook.


Sources by order of publication:

Whitby This Week - "Camp X artifacts up for sale"
The Toronto Star - "Historian fights to keep WWII spy-school collection in Canada"
--- "Veterans families angry over bid to sell wartime artifacts"
Canwest New Service - "Sale of historic espionage gear draws Ottawa's attention"
National Post - "Selling Secret History"