Acknowledging the Colonial Bias in Early Museum Collection Records

Abstract

As a Māori museum professional, the writer has encountered inaccuracies in the descriptions of Māori material within museum collection records. These inaccuracies not only hinder access but may also perpetuate misconceptions about indigenous communities. Inaccurate records render artefacts less accessible to researchers and community members. In addition to factual accuracy, cultural context is paramount. The writer advocates for museums to actively engage with indigenous cultural knowledge holders to improve collection records and in doing so ensure that indigenous communities can reconnect with their material culture.

As a Māori museum professional who has worked with both New Zealand and international collections, I have often encountered inaccurate recordings of Māori collections. These range from simple spelling mistakes or misconceptions of what an object was used for to some quite odd descriptions. In an American university museum, I once encountered material recorded as being Māori that was made from elephant ivory and a narwhal tusk—neither elephants nor narwhals having lived in New Zealand. Some of these descriptions are comical, some offensive, but the overwhelming feeling is frustration. Frustration that poor records render the material effectively dormant. Research and exhibition potential is severely limited when a collection record cannot accurately define an object and the possibility of a member of the descendant community connecting with the artefact is virtually nil.

Terms used to describe most Māori material in museum collections show the person creating the record was usually making sense of an artefact through their own cultural vocabulary. For example, when I was a Curator at the Auckland Museum, I would see collection records describing Māori material as having a chevron pattern. I realized this was in fact a reference to the niho taniwha design (niho being the Māori word for teeth and taniwha being a spiritual being that lives in bodies of water). The term chevron is not inaccurate, but it is out of context when used to describe a Māori world view or concept of design. My understanding of “art history” is primarily from an indigenous rather than European knowledge base. This would be the same for most indigenous researchers or artists. Conservator Vicki-Anne Heikell expresses this well in the quote below.

When I look at a drawing or print, I see the meeting house and then the lake. A Pākehā [i.e. non- Māori] colleague might see the lake and then there’s a house and it’s a whole different view. That’s all about access. Māori people are less likely to access a drawing and print of their home area because it doesn’t actually mention their meeting house – or if it does, as an aside . . . Or things like manuscripts. A lot of our people don’t know they’re in [the collection] because the access points say: “Māori Song.” Now, if a Māori person was doing that they would say: “Waiata from Te-Whanau-a-Apanui by . . .” Now the Māori person would say: “Oh, wow, it’s from my area. I’ll get that.” Often, they say that we had access, but we didn’t really. We don’t come from the same place (Heikell in Clavir 2002, 221).

Spelling errors in collection records are common. When these are not identified they can then make their way into labels and publications. A recent online exhibition of Māori material held in American collections described carvings as coming from communal houses (marai) and depicting images of ancestors (te puna). Marai is not a word in Māori, but a marae is a word commonly used to describe a communal house. A te puna is actually a spring of water whereas tūpuna or tīpuna are ancestors. Spelling errors are inevitable especially as most international museums do not have a Māori expert on staff. But as museum professionals we should strive for accuracy and the digital world makes access to cultural expertise easily available.

Other examples of poor descriptions of indigenous material culture can veer more into the offensive. Māori and other indigenous materials are often recorded incorrectly as “amulets,” “fertility gods,” “war sticks” or other vague terms. These terms may seem innocuous but risk reinforcing inaccurate stereotypes that portray indigenous people as “mystical” or “superstitious” rather than the reality—that indigenous people made sense of the world through traditional knowledge systems.

Museum collections are not neutral. Most indigenous material held in museums was collected at a time of colonial expansion. Motivations to collect material culture included conquest, conversion, and curiosity. Accurate record keeping was not the priority, and neither was the maintenance of cultural context. Historical collecting methods were not to the standards of today and neither were the ethics of collectors. Collection records may be honoring collectors and donors who by today’s standards acquired material illegally or immorally. At best they were poor record keepers.

It is important to contextualize the object and acknowledge the colonial lens and bias through which it has been collected and recorded. This is not a call to erase history. This is not cancel culture. However, understanding and documenting the known motivations of collectors puts collections into context. A museum worker may only know a culture through the material they encounter through their work. They therefore need to be aware of how these objects came into the museum and the “baggage” they may hold.

Descriptors in collection records inevitably preference a Eurocentric understanding of the world even when the object being recorded is not from a European culture. The accuracy of the information in collection records is paramount. Errors in collection records can make artefacts inaccessible and perpetuate inaccurate understandings of indigenous cultures. Museums should take every opportunity to have expert knowledge holders provide cultural context to improve collection records. By doing so museums will ensure indigenous communities, who value these collections the most, have greater opportunities to reconnect with their material.