Abstract
In early June, after months of closure due to the Covid-19 pandemic, the Rijksmuseum finally greeted its audiences with an exhibition theme that the museum had never mounted before: Slavery. The exhibition focused on the role of the Dutch West India Company (WIC) in trans-Atlantic slavery and the Dutch East India Company’s (VOC) colonial slavery in Southeast Asia between the 17th and 19th centuries. It marked the museum’s first attempt to show the most unsettling aspect of the nation’s past and this exhibition review sets out to access and assess its intent to re-frame the museum collection in terms of enslavement.
The exhibition was comprised of documents and objects drawn from the museum’s collection and borrowed from other private and institutional lenders. These showpieces were linked with the stories of 10 historical enslaved people and slaveholders to thematize the exhibition’s 10 main galleries. The exhibition was accompanied by an audio tour, in which these 10 stories were narrated by 10 speakers, some of whom had personal links with the enslaved people featured in the exhibition: some are their descendants and some grew up hearing their stories.
Slavery in the colonial history of the Netherlands has long been insufficiently emphasized in the Dutch primary education curriculum and in the Rijksmuseum’s exhibition-making (Siegal, 2021). In terms of the latter, this gap partially relates to the museum’s public profile. The Rijksmuseum was built as a landmark of Dutch nation-building during the 19th century, and today it continues to be an emblematic embodiment of a unified Dutch national identity defined by prior heroic deeds and glories. For a long time, the museum has tended to focus on the pride, rather than the prize, of the Dutch overseas expansion. It is therefore not surprising that the Rijksmuseum is characterized by some as ‘a temple of colonial self-aggrandizement’ (Sint Nicolaas and Smeulders, 2021: 15). The Slavery exhibition was certainly a cynosure because it marked the museum’s first attempt to foreground the most unsettling aspect of the nation’s past.
At the core of Slavery was the Dutch objectification of enslaved people. This was not only manifested in such disturbing showpieces as foot stocks and collars that explicitly express the slaveholders’ dominance over and discipline of enslaved bodies. Moreover, the exhibition included paintings by well-known Dutch Golden-Age artists with labels disclosing the enslaver–enslaved relationship embedded in these beautiful art works. A telling example was the presentation of three paintings: The Trading Lodge of the VOC in Hooghly (by Hendrik van Schuylenburgh, 1665); The Castle of Batavia (by Andries Beeckman, 1661); and View of Banda Neira (attributed to Johannes Vinckboons, 1662/1663). Before being brought together in the exhibition, these three paintings were displayed in the Rijksmuseum’s permanent Gallery 2.9 Netherlands Overseas 1600–1650 to offer a privileged view of the otherwise invisible, far-reaching national dominion. In comparison, Slavery re-approached these three paintings by labelling them to highlight the position of the enslaved figures within, and the potential operation of the slave trade behind the (seemingly) harmonious scenes. These messages were left latent, if not entirely omitted, in their original labels in Gallery 2.9.
The exhibition’s mirror installation also acted as a portrayal of the dehumanization inherent in slavery (see Figure 1). The extensive use of mirrors, according to the curators, created ‘an allusion to the invisibility of slavery in people’s perceptions’ (Sint Nicolaas and Smeulders, 2021: 17). In my own viewing experience, the mirrors fragmented both the viewer and the viewed into pieces, and put them back together with a sense of uneasiness and uncertainty. Although such a design may have equally run the risk of disorienting visitors within the un-spacious exhibition space, it successfully generated evocative juxtapositions in some cases. For example, when viewed from a specific position, one may find that the mirrors placed in front of View of Banda Neira (where ‘of the approximately 15,000 inhabitants, some 14,000 were killed [in the Bandanese massacre]’, because of the VOC’s enforcement of a nutmeg monopoly, according to the label) coincidentally, or intentionally, brought together the painting and a nearby showcase containing a utensil for nutmeg harvesting (Figure 2). This juxtaposition was suggestive in that it showed how the enslaved individuals who were invisible in this bird’s-eye view of Banda Neira were objectified into the nutmeg picker.
Installation view of the Slavery exhibition. Photo reproduced courtesy of the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
Installation view of the Slavery exhibition showing a display case with a nutmeg picker and two paintings: View of Banda Neira (left) and the The Castle of Batavia (right). Photo reproduced courtesy of the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
Beyond the exhibition itself, 77 showpieces spread over the permanent galleries of the Rijksmuseum have now been given additional labels (which will remain in place for a year) to expose their latent links to Dutch enslavement. An example here is the painting Still Life with a Turkey Pie (by Pieter Claesz, 1627), currently on display in the Gallery of Honor, the most sublime space of the Rijksmuseum that serves to celebrate Dutch Golden Age masterpieces. The original label of the still life focuses on the abundant Asian luxuries on the table (e.g. porcelain and spices). In contrast, the additional label invites audiences to see the contradiction between the visible sumptuousness and the invisible exploitation by highlighting the moral costs – the violence and slavery of the VOC – behind the dazzling Asian export products. This label reframes the way we understand this picture full of luxuries from distant lands and, more importantly, its apposition with the original label suggests how the museum’s collections are presented to highlight certain messages in line with certain ideological predispositions.
Rooted in the Rijksmuseum’s present commitment to inclusivity and decolonization, the Slavery exhibition succeeded in showing the museum’s potential for illustrating Dutch overseas expansion from a less Dutch-oriented point of view. It also succeeded in sparking discussion on the tension between the Rijksmuseum as a national museum/monument and its overseas collection rooted in colonial history. Nevertheless, it should also be noted that the exhibition’s configuration was not without its confusing aspects. As mentioned, its galleries are named after and organized based on the stories of 10 historical slaveholders and enslaved individuals. However, what was challenging to discern when visiting was the thematic importance and uniqueness of these 10 stories. That is, why these 10 enslaved people and slaveholders, why not others, and what specific motifs did these 10 figures represent? These issues seem to be addressed more clearly only in the exhibition’s catalogue. Perhaps, the exhibition could have attached a caption at the entrance to illuminate more about its narrative scheme and spatial organization.
