Sunday, 22 February 2015

Curation, Fetishization, and Packrattery



I come from a family of packrats. The message of “Don’t throw that out; it might come in handy some day!” is so ingrained in me that I have to consciously stop and think about whether, realistically, I will ever need that particular thing, and under what circumstances that need might possibly arise. Growing up, I could come home and announce, “ I need a zorgleflutz for school on Thursday”, and my dad would disappear into the basement. After some rummaging and occasional crashing noises, he would emerge, vintage model zorgleflutz in hand. I thought this was normal. 

This is not my parents' basement, but it is remarkably similar

My parents were not hoarders – they just had a lot of stuff. They had subscriptions to a number of magazines, and of course you wouldn’t throw those out (especially in the days before recycling). My mom taught for a number of years, and had novels and supplies which had been in her classroom. My dad, an inveterate builder and tinkerer, had every hand tool, nail, screw, and fastener that he might need for any job, from minor household repairs to the manufacture of a space-worthy vehicle. (Okay, the last thing was an exaggeration. But there was an asphalt temperature gauge which had been recalibrated to measure normal outside temperatures. And Ken did find a package of 40 year old road flares in a basement cupboard. Ignition was always an option.).

I had/have older parents than most people my age; both of them had lived through the Depression, which I think had the effect of taking a normally practical and frugal nature and pushing into the next level of waste-not. My dad, as a city-dweller, may not have been as affected. My mom, although a young child during that period, lived on a farm on the prairies. So, yes, you kept that whatever it was, because you really might not be able to get or afford another. Even if you never needed it again, your neighbour might. And you could just shove it into one of the outbuildings if you didn’t want it in the house. Substitute ‘basement’ for ‘outbuildings’ and you pretty much have the house I grew up in.

And then there were the family heirlooms and mementos. These are mainly from my mom’s side of the family, and almost solely from her mother’s family. Everyone else (her father, my dad’s parents) immigrated to Canada and had to deal with the associated luggage capacity limits. I find what people choose to keep and pass on to others as heirlooms really fascinating. And this isn’t a new thing. There are loads of archaeological examples of anachronistic items, often pottery, some obviously having been repaired multiple times, being found at sites. In these cases, the traditional call of the archaeologist (“It’s ritual!”) is sometimes heard. However, these deliberately curated items (yes, same term as used for museum collections) tend to be found in household, rather than in formal ritual settings. The general conclusion is that these things were the ancient equivalent of the good china or the ancestral portraits.

As to what was designated for curation and why….the short answer is that no one knows. Not all heirlooms are valuable or expensive. Value tends to be in the eye of the beholder and not necessarily obvious to anyone else. It may not even be consciously obvious to the beholder. I realized this recently as I repaired, for about the 10th time, a small vase depicting a Chinese zodiac animal (not my zodiac animal, either) that I probably paid about $5 for 15 years ago at Folkfest. I like the pattern of the glaze, the tiger painted on it is cute, and it’s the perfect size to hold my peacock feather….is it really worth all the repair jobs? Apparently.
Fetishized?

Some researchers refer to an object’s designation as something worth keeping and passing down, and its subsequent elevation in status as ‘fetishization’ (archaeologists do love ritual references). A thing that might have been a common object, used every day, becomes almost an object of worship or veneration. Some people who study this sort of thing suggest that it is because that thing represents a past event or individual whose memory people are trying to hold onto. Others believe that the object is seen as somehow imbued with the essence of the person who originally selected or owned the object. Passing the object on to others is often a matter of deciding who would be best able to appreciate the object’s significance, and therefore the best curator.

I saw this played out in my own family many times. “When I’m gone, make sure Toots doesn’t get the (insert object here)!” This was from my maternal grandmother, the last remaining of nine children, with only one child of her own, but many nieces and nephews. I didn’t know much about Toots (a niece), except that apparently she was not at all trustworthy in terms of properly looking after great-grandmother’s bone-handled knives.

Ironically, my grandmother outlived anyone who might possibly have claimed any family heirlooms. So, everything went to live at my parents’ house. In the basement, of course.

No comments:

Post a Comment