Collections, Archives and Altruistic Hoarding
A fresh perspective on keeping memorabilia?
Hi Friends,
I had the pleasure of touring the Western Sydney Records Centre recently which I can only describe as the closest thing to Dr Who’s Tardis: unassuming on the outside, larger on the inside. The archive belongs to the NSW (state) government and holds its most significant records in 50,000 square metres of space with 500 kilometres of shelving. [If you’re so inclined you can take a virtual tour here]
The tour guide stopped me in my tracks with her statement that:
Digitisation replaces one problem with another. We are not in a rush to digitise. Paper is a stable technology.
As family historians we are encouraged to digitise the heck out of our significant records, photos, documents, certificates, trees etc… but as I discovered during the archives tour, with the changing nature of preservation (even in the six decades of my life) mass digitisation means constant upgrading, re-digitation, space, energy, cost… and you can begin to understand the scale of the problem.
In 2013 an ambitious exhibition filled a football-field-sized space in Sydney’s former train workshops at Carriageworks. Artist Song Dong’s Waste Not comprised more than 10,000 household objects—each one saved over decades by the artist’s mother—creating a portrait of a life shaped by scarcity, upheaval and nurturing.
The project began as a way for Song to help his mother navigate the profound grief she experienced after the unexpected death of her husband in 2002. The project developed into a memorial, following her death in 2009.
Song’s mother became a meticulous keeper of objects after surviving the famine that followed Mao’s “Great Leap Forward” and the turbulence of the Cultural Revolution. Her saved items—broken lamps, obsolete televisions, record players, blankets, crockery, shoes, plastic bottles, neatly folded plastic bags, string and more, embodied the revolutionary ideal 物尽其用 wu jin qi yong (“make full use of things” or “waste not”). Presented with deliberate order and care, her ‘stuff’ evoked a broader culture of frugality, resilience and resourcefulness. The exhibition stood as a tribute to one family and as a reminder of an urban way of life rapidly disappearing amid China’s sweeping modernisation.
Waste Not also illuminated the quiet histories contained in belongings usually discarded: photographs and letters, tangled knitting, piles of old newspapers, broken household items and the ordinary tools of domestic life.
I was reminded of our household ‘collections’ at another event I took part in recently - a history network intending to save the stories, records and memorabilia of female cricket players from the past. One of the participants spoke of her club’s collection of memorabilia as “creating a rod for her back“ as there was no management plan for the collection. It just began… and the collection now fills personal space in her home and those of close associates.
I’ve been thinking deeply about collections and memorabilia as I’ve started work on a book about significant objects held by a local history society where I’m a member. The Randwick & District Historical Society - which began in 1957 - has more than 40,000 items in its collection. It’s all catalogued to museum standards. And there are real treasures in here.
One of the many which has caught my eye is convict restraints… a ball and chain. How sinister! And also a reminder that the end of convict transportation was not that long ago. Oh, how I wish I knew exactly where that ball and chain came from.
The vast majority of the Randwick collection tells stories of long-gone colonial men; predominantly aldermen (local councillors) and sportsmen. We are searching for stories of people who were hidden from history; women, people of different nationalities, children, scientists. Fortunately, there are many objects relating to First Nations Australians of this area.
What do we do when we don’t find people represented in the RDHS collection? This is our challenge. I think we need to ‘adopt’ objects. All our ideas are currently under construction.
But circling back to my opening question of what to do with all our personal memorabilia and records…
I came to the conclusion months ago that I would not digitise everything significant in my own family history collection. As the tour guide told us during the archive tour I did earlier this week, the repository only digitises items requested for research use. This makes sense. The archive will also repair, re-humidify and conserve fragile items. This makes sense too.
I think it’s important to consider whether our family collections of ‘stuff’ are a gift or a burden to future generations. If the items have value (dollar or emotional) do something with them. Turn them into a project, an artwork, a display. Don’t let your home become a dump for lost objects with no provenance, no stories.
That’s what a garage sale is for.
Credits:
https://anartteacherinchina.blogspot.com/2013/01/waste-not-want-not-song-dong-and-art-of.html
Oh dear. What’ve I done? Just wanted to express thanks and the strangeness of not recalling your voice anymore…a few upper notes but none of the cadence. But! I’ve likeallofasudden been wrought a Substack identity?
Is this an extension of the joy and revelation I felt when learning of the archive…real archives…in Western Sydney. I grew up in the back rooms of libraries. As Mum worked her noble librarian role, I lived amongst the Compactus- the pinnacle of storage in ‘60s Australia!
I’m prattling on.
Must shout: I am Mrs Song!
Hi Jane
This is indeed a complex problem. When my mother in law died 30 years ago, we ( including her children), realised we knew nothing about her. I decided from that day I would write a daily diary of my life for my children.
Recently, as I was trying to declutter, having reached my sixth decade I wondered at the wisdom of this when faced with boxes and boxes of diaries, that contained nothing very earth shattering.
When my dad died 11 years ago, he left behind 4 cars, a caravan, a campervan, a trailer, as well as four sheds of bits and pieces. My mother is a remarkable declutterer , she sold their house and gave almost everything else away walking out with only a small suitcase of clothes and essential documents. . Unfortunately I think I’m more like my dad than my mum.