Tag Archives: museum

From the Bill Douglas Centre: Toy Magic Lantern (c. 1850) and Alice in Wonderland slides

In this week’s snoop around the Bill Douglas, Screen Online Editor Jess O’Kane gets a closer look at a piece of projection heritage, far removed from the 3D glasses of today.

The Bill Douglas Centre houses a large collection of early motion picture apparatus, including this magic lantern, which gives us an insight into early forms of projection.

Image credit: The Bill Douglas Centre
Image credit: The Bill Douglas Centre

Though their origin is hard to determine, magic lanterns were in recorded use from the mid-17th century in Europe, particularly in The Netherlands and Germany.

A simple device, the lantern contains a concave mirror that passes light through a slide and projects the image outward, and thus can be seen as a predecessor to Eadweard Muybridge’s zoopraxiscope.

Magic lanterns are not only useful for tracing the genealogy of modern technology, however. They can also tell us about the attitudes of pre-movie going audiences towards technological advances, images, and the potentially devious influence of visual culture.

Image credit: The Bill Douglas Centre
Image credit: The Bill Douglas Centre

From the late 17th century through to the boom of the Gothic 100 years later, magic lanterns were used to delight and horrify audiences unacquainted with such trickery.

As early as the 1650s, German priest Athanasius Kircher wrote of magicians and itinerant conjurers using lanterns to project images of the devil, silhouetted “spirits” and the supposed souls of the dead.

In the 18th century, special “Phantasmagoria” shows depicting ghouls and ghosts became wildly popular.

Just as a cinema full of people ran for cover when the Lumière Brother’s train pulled into le gare de La Ciotat, these early audiences were clearly fascinated – and frightened – by the permeability of reality.

By the late 19th and early 20th centuries, however, moving images were becoming commonplace, and magic lanterns were widely marketed as toys or educational tools.

Image credit: The Bill Douglas Centre
Image credit: The Bill Douglas Centre

These Alice in Wonderland slides, for example, were produced in the between 1900 and 1925, and are based on Joseph Tenniel’s classic illustrations.

Travel photos, ethnographic studies and maps were other commonly used slides.

That those images that once seemed frightening and alien eventually became domesticated is perhaps unsurprising. Propelled by that wave of popular interest that would inspire the Golden Age, the magic lantern, like so much else that was once marginal, became commercial to the point of commonality.

Jess O’Kane, Screen Online Editor

For more information on The Bill Douglas Centre, click here. Tell us your thoughts on Facebook, Twitter or by commenting below.

From the Bill Douglas Centre: Charlie Chaplin's "The Gold Rush" Admission Coins, 1926

In a new regular feature, Jess O’Kane, Screen Editor delves into the archives of Exeter’s own Bill Douglas Centre, which houses one of the largest collections of film-related objects in Britain.

Image credit: The Bill Douglas Centre
Image credit: The Bill Douglas Centre

These gold coins branded with Charlie Chaplin’s “Tramp” persona offer a fascinating glimpse into his influence amongst early cinema-goers.

By the initial release of The Gold Rush in 1925, Chaplin was the pre-eminent performer in silent film. More than that, he had achieved the financial and creative independence he so craved during his early career, having established United Artists in 1919 and thus taken control of almost every element of his productions.

Image credit: The South Bank Centre
Image credit: The South Bank Centre

The Gold Rush was to be his most ambitious project yet, shot on location in the Truckee Mountains with an enormous $1 million budget. In it, Chaplin stars as a down-trodden prospector seeking fortune and serendipity, opposite the effervescent beauty Georgia Hale. It features some of his most iconic scenes, including the famously farcical moment in which he eats his own boots.

Perhaps ironically, the film earned a then-staggering $5 million at the box office, and is still considered amongst the quintessential Chaplin films, capturing the melancholic humour and transiency of the California Gold Rush.

These particular coins were handed to audience members at Grey Street cinema in 1926, and display both ingenious marketing and the exceptionally broad place of Chaplin in popular consciousness, here quite literally made currency.

For more information on The Bill Douglas Centre, click here. The collection also houses books, programmes, stills and sheet music relating to The Gold Rush.

RAMMbassador Day

Never been to the RAMM before? No not the Ram student bar, the Royal Albert Memorial Museum, Exeter’s brilliant museum just off Gandy Street. Voted ‘Museum of the Year’ in 2012, the RAMM has recently undergone a huge refurbishment. Far from the stuffy museum trips that haunt many people’s childhoods, a visit to the RAMM is more like entering a swish art gallery, with every object being beautifully and thoughtfully displayed. One museum award judge even referred to it as “a magical place”, reflecting the way one room transports you to our planet’s prehistoric origins and the very next immerses you in Exeter’s Victorian past. There’s an immense variety.

Photo by Joshua Irwandi
Photo by Joshua Irwandi

Whether you’ve been before or not, make your way down to the RAMM on Saturday 2 March: ‘RAMMbassador Day’. 11 students from Exeter, known as ‘RAMMbassadors’, have each chosen an object from the museum’s huge collection of artefacts. After in-depth research surrounding these (including liaising with museum curators), the students have prepared informative and dynamic talks about their chosen artefacts. Their enthusiasm is clear and after each talk you will find yourself convinced that the object you have just heard about is the most important in the RAMM, only for the next to make you think exactly the same about a completely different museum piece!

Based on each RAMMbassador’s particular interests and expertise, the talks range from the huge and ancient to the small and much more recent.  This offers a great introduction to the museum’s diverse collection, reflecting the variety of the RAMM’s one million objects. All this in bite-size five minute chunks, making the talks a nice break from learning in long lectures!

So why not wander down to the RAMM on Saturday, March 2 to support your fellow students and learn about some amazing objects and the historical insights that these can offer. Talks are running all day from 10:30am until 3:30pm. And, the best part, the RAMM is free entry for all…very student friendly!

By Emma Holifield

Home Gods at the RAMM

Wedged between suits of Samurai armour and Inuit all-weather gear, Home Gods isn’t exactly the Royal Albert Memorial Museum’s largest exhibit. What it is, however, is an intriguing glimpse at both spirituality and folklore, through the medium of reclaimed scrap material. a niche subject, perhaps, but one ultimately well worth taking the time to examine – whatever you’re level of expertise in Finnish folklore.

 

Photo credits to Niko Petterson

The work of Finnish artist Tatu Nikkannen, Home Gods has its roots in Finnish pre-christian folklore, and focuses upon interpreting both nature spirits, the Haltija, which were said to stand guard over all aspects of the natural world, and their domestic counterparts the Kojitumalat, who presided over the wellbeing of the home. These were represented in early Finnish belief by carvings and figurines which, on certain days, would be offered gifts in the hope of receiving prosperity in return. Intrinsic within the country’s spirituality for centuries, the legacy of the Kojitumalat still looms large thanks to work in preserving Finnish oral history over the last century.

 

Taking from a purely aesthetical perspective, the collection of carvings and statues on display in the RAMM’s simplistic glass cabinet is diverse. From the long-faced and leering ‘big head’ to the perpetual, glass-beaded stair of ‘cat lady,’ the figures are eclectically striking in their peculiar facial features and bold expressions. The eerie ‘iron man’ is a particular standout: swathed in black, with only the shadow of his jaw visible beneath his cowl, he stands in marked contrast to some of his more vibrant brethren.

 

Photo credits to Naystin on flickr

This exhibit, however, strives to be more than a mere collection of replica Kojitumalat – though even viewed as such, the figurines are engrossing enough to hold one’s interest. Nikkanen’s works possess their own unique stories and creation anecdotes through which – we are told – they transcend their origins as pieces of reclaimed scrap and become themselves manifestations of the Kojitumalat themselves: home gods for a new age. In this regard the exhibit is comprehensive, including even the tools used to craft the figurines, which were themselves suitably ordained for the task.

 

This premise is what makes Home Gods so interesting, rather than simple appearances: the  stories that accompany the figures are a captivatingly bizarre mix of varied origins and the trials of their individual creations. Many have their own anecdotes: the ‘red guy’, who was stained by burial in a hilltop rabbit warren; the ‘bear’s former existence as a kitchen worktop; ‘Big Head’s ties to a tree that still stands upon Dartmoor. It is through these tales the figurines are imbued, so we are told, with the spirit of the Kojitumalat. My only wish is that more space could have been lavished on the telling of these artistic tales, as not every figurine is gifted with so detailed a history as those recounted above.

 

Alongside the Finnish Kojitumalat, Home Gods also incorporates a number of corresponding objects from spirit-cultures from across the globe. While it is easy to appreciate the historic comparison being drawn by their inclusion, it nevertheless feels a little forced: where Nikkannen’s figurines are divergent but retain a central unity, the collection of Burmese spirit houses and Nicobar scare devils that accompany them feel somehow unnecessary. Certainly, they are interesting in their own right, but would perhaps be better served by being exhibited as part of the museum’s already comprehensive world cultures collection than tacked along here.

 

But this is something of a superfluous concern. Home Gods is an excellent little exhibition, and well worth a visit. It is, I feel, best viewed as part of the RAMM’s general collections: an intriguing aside to their already impressive exhibits, and a free one at that.

 

Alex Payne

Theatre and venue guide: RAMM

This time last year, the Royal Albert Memorial Museum (RAMM) on Queen Street was shrouded away under ugly renovation boarding. It only took six months after the December 2011 completion of its massive £24million rebuild  for this remarkable little museum to be honoured ‘Museum of the Year’, winner of the £100,000 Art Fund Prize. But why?

Photo credits to Joshua Irwandi

In my experience, the RAMM is a museum like no other. Even with its lurid salmon walls, visitors happily return time after time. This is probably down to the traditional ethos, which still manages to remain current and inclusive by ditching the stigma of academic stuffiness.

Technology lovers beware – there aren’t massive screens, movie clips and repetitive sound-bites to assault your scenes after every bend and twist. Frankly they aren’t needed. Walking around the RAMM is like taking a trip back in time for all the right reasons – visitors young and old slow down and actually take the time to read strategically-placed snippets of carefully considered information.

Unlike the great museums in far more important places, there is a strong sense that RAMM is curated by people who care about their collection as much as they care about outreach and drawing in people from our local community, and that includes students! Free admission certainly encouraged me through the doors of the imposing Victorian-gothic building for the first time. Now I keep going back.

Let the scale of the taxidermy simultaneously impress and shock you. Let yourself travel the world via artefacts from far flung corners of our Earth. Let the RAMM, and its implied representation of Britain’s absolute Imperial power and vision, take your heart as it has done mine.