A short-form article publication written by Harish Krishnamoorthy
The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston (MFAH) has amassed an almost encyclopedic collection of art from around the world; more recently this has expanded to include a collection of African objects and artifacts. Aside from being displayed in select special exhibitions and as individually donated pieces, African art was largely absent from the MFAH’s collection through its growth in the twentieth century. As historian Doran H. Ross outlines, “The consistent growth of the African collections at Houston did not really begin until Dr. Peter C. Marzio became Director in 1982 . . . . Indeed, a significant majority of the African collection was not acquired until the 1990s.”1 Today, their African art collection is more extensive, with a permanent display featuring “masks, sculptures, headdresses, textiles, and objects from a variety of regions, cultures, and countries.”2 Yet the representation and presentation of this collection remains underdeveloped, ineffectively addressing the historical and colonial contexts that many of these objects have, especially in the face of ongoing debates regarding African objects displayed in Western countries. Investigating the African collection reveals a shallow portrayal of these objects’ histories; recognizing this broad omission of context can help speak to how the museum can paint a more holistic and informative picture of their collection.
To evaluate the African Art collection, and any curatorial influence that may exist in presenting it, one must understand the intention of the MFAH as a whole. In Reinventing the Museum: The Evolving Conversation on the Paradigm Shift, Theodore Low argues that “most museums are erected on the department structure. This type of division was started long before museums became aware that public education had any part to play in the life of museums.”3 As an institution, the MFAH claims to differ: it lies as a self-described “direct descendent of the Houston Public School Art League.” Certainly, many of their practices would point towards that educational ethos continuing today (child-friendly exhibits, for instance, or free admission for students).4 Yet as this report will outline further below, the museum is not immune from curatorial biases that filter how their collections are viewed, and in particular, how the information and context of their African art collection are somewhat flattened in disservice of any educational intent.
Among a variety of objects, ranging from furniture and jewelry to textiles and weapons, the centerpiece of the African art collection is the Glassell Collection of African gold, the largest set of gold objects from the region in the US, and named for Alfred C. Glassell, Jr., who donated it in 1997. Glassell was a Houston-based philanthropist who was an avid collector of gold, amassing Indonesian, Pre-Columbian, and African objects. He valued gold “not for its intrinsic value but for its spiritual meaning.”5 These gold objects, primarily from the Akan people of Ghana, take up a large gallery room at the entrance to the collection, with the remainder spread between three other interconnected rooms.
A significant aspect about how the museum organizes its collection of African art can be seen in how the institution bundles together African, Oceanic, and American art (here referring exclusively to the pre-Columbian Americas) both in physical proximity, as well as in assigning all three collections under one curatorial department. On the surface, this is not an anomaly per se: European art is similarly grouped together, as is the museum’s Asian collection, and one can argue that the three aforementioned collections are small enough to be organized under one department. However, the act of pulling these three incredibly diverse regions together indicates that the collections may not be quite as comprehensive as one would hope. And while terms such as “tribal” and “primitive” are not mentioned anywhere today, one need only look at how these collections were once labelled by the MFAH as “Tribal Arts” to understand how this organizational move is a vestige of a colonial perspective.6 The implication of grouping these objects together under an assumed umbrella of “tribalism” is important in shaping how we perceive these cultures: as Alice Wairimu Nderitu says, this thinking translates into Africans “not being seen as individuals but as people belonging to a tribal world of savagery and primitive practices that are deep, natural and ancient.”7
How objects are separated and grouped together seems to be based on medium, usage, and visual similarity, rather than by region, nationality, or culture – there is a separate vestibule for textiles, wooden ornaments are grouped together, weapons are placed by each other, etc. Each object has a description and caption with information regarding a time period or region; however, taken as a whole, the objects begin to blur together, becoming an oversimplified, flattened exhibit of “African” culture, a product organized and presented by the museum’s curators. This reductive nature is evident from the moment you enter, and implicit in how the collection is navigated. Sandwiched between the Asian art collection on one end and Indonesian gold on another, little is formally done to differentiate the African art from the other collections. Indeed, one could pass from one collection to the next without immediately realizing that you’ve moved to another part of the world.
Furthermore, the question of whether these objects even constitute as artworks or not is only addressed by a small description buried deep within the collection, placed next to a description of a nineteenth century wooden tobacco vessel from present day South Africa and easy to miss. Rather than outline or delve into the complicated issue of appropriating everyday objects as art, the description simply takes this assumption without question, arguing that “‘Art’ was intimately bound with life, rather than separate from it . . . . Often these designs had symbolic meaning related to the purpose of the object.”8 This assumption is an example of what Peter A. Saltzstein describes as “the first problem in our understanding of African cultural objects . . . we see these cultural objects in terms of our own cultural definitions and standards of what constitutes art, and not by the standards of appreciation and understanding of these peoples themselves.”9
Yet the most striking aspect of how the MFAH presents its collection is in the lack of context that the galleries actually provide. Part of this has to do with language. Nowhere in the descriptions of these objects is the term “colonialism” employed, nor is “theft.” Instead, lighter terms such as “trade” or “exchange” are used instead. The British massacre and seizure of Benin’s bronzes in 1897, for instance, is merely described as a “punitive expedition.” This presents a skewed version of history, in which difficult histories of colonialism are erased, and acts of collecting by someone like Glassell are described as “pioneering.”10 These are objects that deserve or need some level of context, especially if the museum claims a close relationship with educational intent. Low’s assessment of museums as departmental first and educational feels more pertinent, especially as he describes the bias given toward trustees and donors.11 Armed only with information of who collected and assembled these objects, and not the context of how these objects were acquired, one can easily conclude that donors and trustees are prioritized over giving the full context of how objects were often taken forcefully.
Viewed outside the context of colonialism, the collection begins to look somewhat incomprehensive and simplified in scope, especially as a collection that presumes by its title to represent all African art. As mentioned, the Glassell Collection of gold is sourced almost entirely from present-day Ghana, and the majority of the other art objects are from Sub-Saharan West and Central Africa: particular present-day countries, such as Nigeria, Ghana, and Benin, are most frequently sourced. Almost all objects were created in the nineteenth and twentieth century. Without the context of these regions having been colonized and frequented by European collectors during that time period – hence the prevalence of these objects in Western museums – is one led to believe that the MFAH only recognizes objects from these times and these regions as art? Regardless of whether the museum itself was ever implicated in colonial activity, the act of presenting these objects as art without explaining their source properly in itself hints at a colonialist attitude. As Peter Mark remarks, “‘African art’ as a category consisting of objects taken outside their historical and cultural context is a product of the colonial encounter . . . . That ethnologists and art historians play a significant role in this process is indubitable.”12
Examining the objects on display more closely, one is also struck by how often European trade and influence is implicated in the creation of these objects, understood as essential to their very existence. For example, in the descriptions of nineteenth and twentieth century staffs carried by Akan linguists or okyeame, comparisons are consistently made to British and European staffs as precedent, implying that such staffs did not exist prior to interactions with the Western world. This parallels the concept of “hybridity” espoused by Annie E. Coombes, describing how “the deliberate focus on transculturated [sic] or ‘hybrid’ material culture has also been promoted as the sign of a mutually productive culture contact – an exchange on equal terms between the Western centres and those groups on the so-called ‘periphery.’”13 While Coombes acknowledges that such an approach can augment the reading of multiple meanings in an object, this comes at the expense of muting the reading of these objects as a product of social and political disempowerment, and in the process rebuilds perceptions of a “primitive-civilized” scale upon which African and European nations rest.14
The bulk of this report can be summarized as the following: as an institution with a self-described interest in education, the lack of context and omission of colonial histories in the MFAH’s African art collection undermines this intent and instead begins to reveal strong curatorial decisions that favor a simplified, digestible view of African art. This may not even be a conscious choice on the part of the MFAH’s curators, as this level of curatorial selectiveness is prevalent in most African art collections in the Western world, a vestige of colonial curation. This relates strongly to Sidney Littlefield Kasfir’s interrogation of how African art is represented, where she writes that “In most [African art collections] in the United States there is little attempt, either explicit or implicit, to subvert omniscient curatorial authority. Perhaps it is time to cast a shadow on this authority by reexamining the ways it operates in defining African art.”15 Certainly the MFAH can (and likely does) argue that they are being objective and politically neutral in describing and displaying these objects, yet the act of doing so only serves to mask the complex and often brutal histories behind them. Sylvester Okwunodu Ogbechie, evaluating the display of African art exhibits today, describes how “By inviting an endless deferral of salient issues, such curators and their exhibitions influence the shape of critical thought and public opinion while shielding themselves from critical attention.”16 In recontextualizing their collection to reflect the origins and diversity of these objects, and in communicating a context of colonialism, the MFAH would not only be more holistic and true to its educational mission, but would assist in shifting away from vestigial perceptions of what “African art” is, and turn towards how these objects can be displayed moving forward.
Notes
Doran H. Ross, “African Art at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston,” African Arts 36, no. 3 (Autumn 2003): 44.
See The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, “Arts of Africa, Oceania & the Americas,” Curatorial Departments, accessed September 27, 2019, https://www.mfah.org/art/departments/arts-africa-oceania-and-americas.
Theodore Low, “What is a Museum?” in Reinventing the Museum: The Evolving Conversation on the Paradigm Shift, 2nd ed., ed. Gail Anderson (Lanham: AltaMira Press, 2012): 36.
See Peter C. Marzio, The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston: A Permanent Legacy, (New York: Hudson Hills Press, 1989), 12. It is also interesting to note that in this 1989 publication, showcasing 150 works exemplifying the museum’s collection, only one work was Sub-Saharan African in origin.
See both the introduction to Frances Marzio, The Glassell Collections of the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston: Masterworks of Pre-Columbian, Indonesian, and African Gold (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2012), and the placard “Alfred C. Glassell, Jr.” at the MFAH’s African Gold exhibit.
See “Art of the Americas and Tribal Arts,” in Peter C. Marzio, The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston.
Alice Wairimu Nderitu, “Why are 300,000 Icelanders a nation but 30 million Nigerian Igbos are a tribe?,” The East African, October 30, 2018, https://www.theeastafrican.co.ke/oped/comment/Does-the-term-tribe-demean-Africans/434750-4828660-format-xhtml-nrvunn/index.html.
See the label “Everyday Objects as Art,” next to Nguni People, Lidded Tobacco Vessel, 1875–1900, wood, MFAH African art collection.
Peter A. Saltzstein, “Misperceiving African and Eskimo Art,” Journal of Aesthetic Education 32, no. 2 (Summer 1998): 100.
See the placard “Alfred C. Glassell, Jr.” at the MFAH’s African Gold exhibit.
Low, “What is a Museum?,” 37.
Peter Mark, “Is There Such a Thing as African Art?,” Record of the Art Museum, Princeton University 58, no. 1–2 (1999): 13.
Annie E. Coombes, Reinventing Africa: Museums, Material Culture and Popular Imagination in Late Victorian and Edwardian England (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997): 217.
Ibid., 218.
Sidney Littlefield Kasfir, “African Art and Authenticity: A Text with a Shadow,” African Arts 25, no. 2 (April 1992): 41.
Sylvester Okwunodu Ogbechie, “Exhibiting Africa: Curatorial Attitudes and the Politics of Representation in ‘Seven Stories about Modern Art in Africa,’” African Arts 30, no. 1 (Winter 1997): 10.
Bibliography
Coombes, Annie E. Reinventing Africa: Museums, Material Culture and Popular Imagination in Late Victorian and Edwardian England. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997.
Kasfir, Sidney Littlefield. “African Art and Authenticity: A Text with a Shadow,” African Arts 25, no. 2 (April 1992): 40-53, 96-97.
Low, Theodore. “What is a Museum?” In Reinventing the Museum: The Evolving Conversation on the Paradigm Shift, 2nd ed. edited by Gail Anderson. Lanham: AltaMira Press, 2012.
Mark, Peter. “Is There Such a Thing as African Art?” Record of the Art Museum, Princeton University 58, no. 1–2 (1999): 7-15.
Marzio, Frances. The Glassell Collections of the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston: Masterworks of Pre-Columbian, Indonesian, and African Gold. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2012.
Marzio, Peter C. The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston: A Permanent Legacy. New York: Hudson Hills Press, 1989.
Museum of Fine Arts, Houston. “Arts of Africa, Oceania & the Americas.” Curatorial Departments. Accessed September 27, 2019. https://www.mfah.org/art/departments/arts-africa-oceania-and-americas.
Nderitu, Alice Wairimu. “Why are 300,000 Icelanders a nation but 30 million Nigerian Igbos are a tribe?” The East African. October 30, 2018. https://www.theeastafrican.co.ke/oped/comment/Does-the-term-tribe-demean-Africans/434750-4828660-format-xhtml-nrvunn/index.html.
Ogbechie, Sylvester Okwunodu. “Exhibiting Africa: Curatorial Attitudes and the Politics of Representation in ‘Seven Stories about Modern Art in Africa.’” African Arts 30, no. 1 (Winter 1997): 10, 12, 83-4.
Ross, Doran H. “African Art at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston.” African Arts 36, no. 3 (Autumn 2003): 34-55, 94.
Saltzstein, Peter A. “Misperceiving African and Eskimo Art.” Journal of Aesthetic Education 32, no. 2 (Summer 1998): 99-107.