Affective Collecting: Ethics,Emotions,and Collecting the Holocaust

Abstract

Before curation, there is collection. Before visitors engage with objects in an exhibition, collection managers engage with the objects and, in some cases, also the donors. It makes sense that especially when difficult pasts are involved, collection managers have affective encounters with the materiality before visitors do. So why has the affective turn focused mainly on engaging visitors’ emotions? In this reflection, I work backward from the ethics of curating Holocaust materiality—particularly the ethics of visitors’ affective engagement with this materiality—to focus on the ethics of collecting Holocaust materiality, with a focus on the affective engagement of the individuals collecting this material.

Before curation, there is collection. Before visitors engage with objects in an exhibition, collection managers engage with the objects and, in some cases, also the donors. It makes sense that collection managers have affective encounters with the materiality before visitors do, especially when difficult pasts like the Holocaust are involved. So why has the affective turn in museums focused mainly on engaging visitors’ emotions? What of the emotions of the individuals collecting materiality and the affective engagement with the objects, the donors, and their stories engender in them?

By its very nature, engaging with the Holocaust and its effects on humans and humanity is affective and thus involves emotions. I have come to view my work with Holocaust survivors’ testimonies and materiality as an ethical engagement, and I demonstrate in my research that this has also been the case for the survivors who collected this material. ¹ The act of bearing witness to trauma, argues Holocaust survivor and psychiatrist Dori Laub, requires not only a “speaker” but also a “listener” who engage in a “joint responsibility [that] is the source of the reemerging truth.” ² Building on Laub, philosopher Kelly Oliver argues that “Such an encounter necessarily takes us beyond recognition and brings with it ethical obligation.” ³ This is more than just a responsibility, Oliver contends, but also a “response-ability.” According to Oliver, “Along with knowing or seeing as, we need pathos or empathy to act on what we recognize. In other words, recognition, whether epistemological or political, must be accompanied by affect to become ethical.” ⁴

If we understand that emotions “emerge from the recognition of being affected and the labelling of that sensation as an emotional state (e.g., joy or sadness),” ⁵ then emotions reflect not only the state of being affected but also an ethical engagement with, for example, the suffering of others as expressed in Holocaust materiality. This is, of course, what the affective turn in museums is about, at least where museum visitors are concerned. As museologist and cultural historian Marzia Varutti writes:

The contemporary relevance of affective approaches in museums becomes evident when we consider the central role that affect and emotions play in pedagogical dynamics and memory work in museums, as well as the development of understandings of museums as sites for collective healing and well-being. ⁶

Varutti uses “affective curatorship” as a conceptual tool to provide insight into “how emotions can be leveraged in curatorial practice.” ⁷ As important as this tool may be, it does not take into consideration the emotions of those collecting and curating the materiality. Despite years of progress, the notion that researchers and practitioners need to maintain emotional distance from our materials and subjects is still deeply embedded in academic and institutional practices. As a feminist and a historian, I do not view emotions as the antithesis of reason. Rather, I view both as ways of responding to and understanding the world, others, the past, and so forth. ⁸ Accordingly, I agree with scholars such as Laurajane Smith and Gary Campbell, who argue for paying closer attention to the role of emotions behind the scenes in museum and heritage contexts. ⁹ This is something I do in my historical research of survivors’ efforts to document the Nazi atrocities in the early postwar period. ¹⁰ So, not surprisingly, it is also something I am focused on as part of a research project that aims to generate knowledge about Swedish Holocaust memorialization by studying museums with collections connected to the Holocaust, which has involved examining the process of establishing a new Holocaust museum in Sweden. ¹¹ That those collecting the materiality of the Holocaust now are affectively engaged with the materials and donors as those who have done this work in the past is unquestionable.

What if instead of focusing mainly on the ethics of curating Holocaust materiality—particularly the ethics of visitors’ affective engagement with this materiality—we also give attention to the ethics of collecting Holocaust materiality, with an emphasis on the affective engagement of the individuals collecting this material. Perhaps we consider affective collecting as a conceptual tool to explore the ethics of emotional engagement with collecting Holocaust materiality in the past and present? In this case, the purpose would not be to leverage these emotions but rather to contribute to normalizing the role of emotions and affect in collecting Holocaust materiality, or indeed any other material that is affective.