Treasured Memories
A National Archives of Canada Exhibition Celebrating 125 Years
1872 - 1997
Jacques Plante, NHL Goalie with mask.
Courtesy National Archives.
Think of this exhibition as a family album of prodigious proportions. After all, it is a bid to put the experiences and memories of upwards of 24 million Canadians in the picture. Wading through the repositories of memory kept by the National Archives, a relatively small but unique selection has been assembled for Treasured Memories. With some historical information about the archives and its evolution, the show constitutes a fascinating glimpse at our collective history.
Instead of languishing in boring broad generalizations, the curator/s patiently sifted through material—in every imaginable media—to find the magnificent detail, from which a thread in our histories may be extrapolated. With so much to chose from, that basic lesson of creative practice must be adhered as if it were Newton's law of gravity: less is more. This must have been a gargantuan task as well as an awesome responsibility.
The result? A veritable parade of the extraordinary, the rarely seen, and even the hitherto little known artifact.
"Torah of Shearith Israel Congregation, end of 17th century." Encased in glass in a controlled environment, this copy was a gift to the Jewish community of Montreal in 1768 from friends in London. Rolled around two massive wands, handwritten Hebrew text covers the parchment, copied according to traditional rites. It consists of the first five books of the Bible and the Pentateuch. The fine flawless script flows effortlessly across the parchment, regardless of the tiny wrinkles in the surface. This remarkable Torah was used at the Shearith Israel synagogue, the oldest in Canada, for over 200 years.
Other artifacts on display include: the first printed map on which the name "Canada" appears (çs work, dated 1365), Louis Riel's last letter (written to his wife and children in 1885), a page from the diary of Muriel Kitagawa (a Japanese-Canadian woman sent to an internment camp during WW II), a love poem by NHL Hall of Famer, Jacques Plante (1929-1986) written for his wife (Plante was the first NHL goalie to wear a mask on a regular basis.). There simply isn't enough space here to tell you about all the extraordinary material you can see.
Given the fragile nature of some artifacts, the Archives replaces them regularly. Seen in the dimly lit space - light is one of the elements that cause damage - the sense of looking at something precious is heightened. With so much to take in, thankfully there are chairs... with interactive terminals where you can view archive tape from the National Film Board, CBC and Canada's private broadcasters. You can see everything from sections of the Canada-U.S.S.R. Hockey Final to René Lévésque's historic speech at the Paul Sauvé arena when the PQ first swept to victory in Quebec.
With a few forgettable predictable duds that might just as well have been left in storage - do we really need to see yet another almost life-size laminated photo of Karen Kain? - the exhibit is truly exceptional, featuring something for just about everyone. I left wondering why it is we Canadians still have such terrible identity crises, know so little about each other, and think ourselves all so awfully dull. By the way, Karen, how about handing over a pair of your old shoes or something to the Archives so we can dump our (apparently) collective 2-dimensional answer to the garage-sale lobster lamp, eh?
Published in The Ottawa Xpress
Instead of languishing in boring broad generalizations, the curator/s patiently sifted through material—in every imaginable media—to find the magnificent detail, from which a thread in our histories may be extrapolated. With so much to chose from, that basic lesson of creative practice must be adhered as if it were Newton's law of gravity: less is more. This must have been a gargantuan task as well as an awesome responsibility.
The result? A veritable parade of the extraordinary, the rarely seen, and even the hitherto little known artifact.
"Torah of Shearith Israel Congregation, end of 17th century." Encased in glass in a controlled environment, this copy was a gift to the Jewish community of Montreal in 1768 from friends in London. Rolled around two massive wands, handwritten Hebrew text covers the parchment, copied according to traditional rites. It consists of the first five books of the Bible and the Pentateuch. The fine flawless script flows effortlessly across the parchment, regardless of the tiny wrinkles in the surface. This remarkable Torah was used at the Shearith Israel synagogue, the oldest in Canada, for over 200 years.
Other artifacts on display include: the first printed map on which the name "Canada" appears (çs work, dated 1365), Louis Riel's last letter (written to his wife and children in 1885), a page from the diary of Muriel Kitagawa (a Japanese-Canadian woman sent to an internment camp during WW II), a love poem by NHL Hall of Famer, Jacques Plante (1929-1986) written for his wife (Plante was the first NHL goalie to wear a mask on a regular basis.). There simply isn't enough space here to tell you about all the extraordinary material you can see.
Given the fragile nature of some artifacts, the Archives replaces them regularly. Seen in the dimly lit space - light is one of the elements that cause damage - the sense of looking at something precious is heightened. With so much to take in, thankfully there are chairs... with interactive terminals where you can view archive tape from the National Film Board, CBC and Canada's private broadcasters. You can see everything from sections of the Canada-U.S.S.R. Hockey Final to René Lévésque's historic speech at the Paul Sauvé arena when the PQ first swept to victory in Quebec.
With a few forgettable predictable duds that might just as well have been left in storage - do we really need to see yet another almost life-size laminated photo of Karen Kain? - the exhibit is truly exceptional, featuring something for just about everyone. I left wondering why it is we Canadians still have such terrible identity crises, know so little about each other, and think ourselves all so awfully dull. By the way, Karen, how about handing over a pair of your old shoes or something to the Archives so we can dump our (apparently) collective 2-dimensional answer to the garage-sale lobster lamp, eh?
Published in The Ottawa Xpress
