Almost a century, since 1931, time stood still in the ethnic and natural history Missie Museum in the monastery village of Steyl, in North Limburg. Paters showed showcases full of thousands of objects, stuffed animals, art and utensils from Asia and Africa here. They were affiliated with the congregation of the Divine Word, founded in 1875. The museum had to let future missionaries know which country they traveled. An important goal was also to show the need for mission by presenting cultures as ‘primitive’.
That colonial look had to change. The 150th anniversary is the reason for the exhibition The collection of resistancein which sixteen national and international artists critically reflect on the time of then and the museum today. “The ‘resistance’ from the title means that we revolt the objects against that age -old imaging,” says guest curator Oscar Ekkelboom, art historian at Radboud University who is researching how contemporary museums deal with decolonial issues.
Especially a showcase with five decorated human skulls from New Guinea, surrounded by spears, creates a feeling of uneasures. At the time there was a sign, ‘human eaters’. “That is no longer possible,” says curator Paul Voogt, who went looking for its origin in New Guinea. He proposed to return the National Museum in the capital Port Moresby for the skulls; That was not necessarily necessary, with the argument “that the skulls could sometimes be hostile to us.” What now? This question gets a fascinating portrayal: in a display cabinet there is a decorated skull with white kaurischelpen like eyes. Next to it is an empty display case, another display case is partly filled with earth and a third also contains a skull, but almost withdrawn from blurred plexiglas. Voogt: “Those are the four possibilities to deal with the skulls: burying, never exhibiting any more or hardly visible and finally exhibit.”
A skull is placed on a pedestal in the Missie Museum in Steyl. Photo Chris Keulen
The artists Dicky Takndare and Albertho Wanma from West Papua place the artwork next to the skulls Where is the rur?a huge ancestor image that “symbolizes the entire population of New Guinea,” Takndare explains by telephone when asked. The hands that cover eyes and mouth indicate centuries -long repression. The image holds a baby in one hand and a clock in the other. Takndare: “The baby means fertility and future while the clock shows that we have little time left for the ancestor worship, as we confess that. ‘Rur’ stands for the human spirit who, after someone’s death, returns to this image, the korwar. This was forbidden by the missionaries.”
Catholic scent
Some missionaries from then still live. For them, the museum is the most ‘uncomfortable’, says Voogt. “They went with their time while the collection stopped.” This has changed with the intense dynamics between how it used to be and this new, temporary setup. For example, Boris van Berkum designed Eau décolonial In which he catches the scents of the colonial past, ranging from Kamfer (the smell of this museum) through the scent of the jungle to that of incense, a Catholic scent. The most penetrating scent is that of metal that expresses the resistance of the population against Western rule.
Danielle Lemaire is inspired by a song about Natuurmythen that Indologist and Father Piet Heerkens recorded in 1927 on Flores, Saka Ladja’s song. It sings the “primordial story” about how people “live, speak, act.” Lemaire reflects on this with large drawings that show the cosmos in swirling movements. It emphasizes the shared spirituality between the original natural religion and Catholicism.
One of the most moving installations is in which dozens of torn t-shirts of the Asmat hang on west-papua on boys, Refashion By Roy Villevoye. It shows that torn clothes is an enrichment, a status symbol. It shows an in -depth contrast between our Western culture and that of the Asmat. It is we who have to adjust our gaze.
Birds in the Mission Museum. Photo Chris Keulen
Perfumes by Boris van Berkum, ‘eau décolonial’. Photo Chris Keulen
Work by Roy Villevoye and Fré Calmes. Photo Chris Keulen
Work by Roos Holleman in Steyl. Photo Chris Keulen
Work by Timoteus Anggawan Kusno in Steyl. Photo Chris Keulen
Images in the Missie Museum Steyl. Photo Chris Keulen
Altar
That interaction between historical heritage and the now also applies to Unconsensual Despair van Fré Calmes, born on Haiti. A house altar from the mission time is provided with voodo statues that express strength and freedom, but are unintentionally caught in this altar. Hence the despair from the title. Calmes’ artwork and also the woven dressing by the Aliwaa Collective from Colombia are powerful confrontations with mission history. This last work is high in space as a curtain and shows the resistance of the Wayuu community against salt extraction in their country with woven images. A resistance that goes back to the Catholic mission.
Let your gaze go from this artwork to the historical showcases that are also still there, and you realize the deeper meaning of a collection that takes on thanks to contemporary artists. Loading, controversial heritage, but thanks to that confrontation also liberating: new dimensions are added.