Theoretical Framework: on Culture and Work 8

Tattered Cloth Tells More: Women‟s Work and Museum Representation by Elise Weinstein Dintsman A thesis submitted in conformity with the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy Department of Sociology and Equity Studies in Education Ontario Institute for Studies in Education University of Toronto © Copyright by Elise Weinstein Dintsman 2012 Tattered Cloth Tells More: Women‘s Work and Museum Representation Doctor of Philosophy 2012 Elise Weinstein Dintsman Department of Sociology and Equity Studies in Education University of Toronto Abstract The past two decades posed some challenges for the museum world. Questions about the production of meaning, museum relationships with community groups, and the politics of representation in exhibitions, occupy both museum practitioners and scholars. These questions are further related to the general issues that are at the forefront of contemporary society, which include problems of social inclusion, cultural diversity and social equity (Sandell, 2002; 2007). Most of the discussion has been framed around racial, ethnic and cultural communities and their access to and participation in museum programming. Gender relations and feminist issues have been largely overlooked (Conlan and Levin, 2010: 308). This study considers the representation of women‘s work in museums. In particular, I examine portrayals of ―culture‖ and ―work‖ in women‘s textile production. Museum literature has documented the subordination (or absence) of women and their work in exhibitions and the hegemonic, patriarchal approach within which they were represented (Porter, 1996; Levin, 2010). ii Using an ethnographic case study of a museum dedicated to textile collection, I suggest seeing this museum as a potential challenge to mainstream museums‘ traditional approach and silence on the women‘s work that has created most textiles on display. I examine the meanings that are produced in relation to the textiles, the organization and dissemination of these meanings through exhibitions and the ways in which the public (visitors and members) responds to these exhibitions. In order to explore these questions, Hall‘s communication model (1993) was applied to trace the process of encoding and decoding meanings at the museum. My approach to meaning production is realized through observations of the museum‘s committee meetings. The second stage is the circulation of meanings in exhibitions. I examine this through an analysis of exhibitions‘ texts and docent tours. Decoding these meanings is realized through surveys of museum members and visitors together with short interviews. My findings suggest that initially, the museum offered some oppositional elements in exhibiting practices. However, a shift occurred towards a dominant, hegemonic view of museum work and re-effacing of women‘s work with the departure of the founders. iii Acknowledgements Working on this thesis and raising a family are the ―projects‖ of my life so far. During the years I learned that these are demanding as much as they are rewarding. Trying to balance and integrate this work into my life proved to be at times almost impossible. This thesis could not have been written without the help and support that I received from my family, on the one hand, and my thesis supervisor, on the other. It was David W. Livingstone who first suggested that I refer to feminist thought and writing as a therapeutic process. I feel very fortunate to have you as my thesis supervisor. I, and consequently this thesis, have benefitted from your critical insight and invaluable comments and feedback. My heartfelt thanks for your continuous encouragement and support through the ups-and-downs of thesis writing; it is so much appreciated. My thanks are also to Monica Heller, who was involved in this since I started thinking about the project, many years ago. Your questions forced me to polish my views. Roger Simon‘s course on Popular Culture was valuable in shaping my thesis. I enjoyed the course and our conversations about museums. Kathryn Church‘s unique position as a sociologist and a museum curator was very helpful. Thanks for ―pushing‖ me to write a personal foreword. Thank you to Amy K. Levin for your interest in the thesis, the close reading and useful comments. I am grateful for the OISE scholarship I received during my studies. I also thank the people at the museum, who generously provided their time, and shared their views about museum work with me. My family grew up with this thesis in the background. More recently, you helped me in critical moments, finalizing the thesis. A big thank you to Koby, Ben and Omri, for your patience and support. Your love sustains me. Maybe one day you will even read this. iv Foreword ―Are you a weaver? Quilter? Knitter?‖ I was asked numerous times throughout the years when I was telling people about my thesis. And my answer was always no, I‘m not a needle worker. In fact, I can hardly hold a needle, let alone create something with it. ―So, why textiles?‖ was often the response. Why textiles? I never consciously thought of conducting research related to textiles. However, looking back, I can say that textiles ―knitted‖ my family together. Textiles and fabrics were around the house since I can remember. Even though I am not personally involved in the making of textiles, I have always loved and appreciated the creativity that is involved in producing them. The idea that a ball of yarn and two knitting needles is all you need to create a beautiful sweater was a fascinating discovery for me as a young girl. But, unlike the tradition in so many societies where the knowledge and practice of textile production is transmitted from mother to daughter, my mother, never taught me anything related to needle work. I also never saw her knitting or sewing or creating anything with a needle. My father instilled in me this love for textiles. When I was a young girl, he used to travel, as part of his work, to different places around the world, and he always brought back beautiful fabrics, costumes and textiles from these journeys. So, my sister and I had silk kimonos from Japan, Kente cloth from Ghana, block-printed fabrics from Kenya and Uganda, and textiles from Persia (Iran). My father grew up in a family that was invested in textile production. The family owned a textile factory in Lodz, Poland, which was also known as ―the Manchester of Poland‖, a leading center of the Polish textile industry. Jews were an integral part of the v textile industry since the 19th century and owned 175 factories by 1914 (http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/vjw/lodz.html). My great great grandparents the Librach family, owned one of them. My grandmother used to tell us stories about her grandfather who was a ―fabricant‖ (note the word), an industrialist, who was one of the first Jews in the city to build a large textile factory. And, to my surprise (thanks to google), I was able to find more information about the family: The brothers Feivish and Henech Librach belonged to the Librach family who were textile manufacturers in Ozorkow and Lodz. The Zgierz magistrate strongly interceded to allow the Librachs to conduct a textile factory with 20 workshops outside of the (Jewish) quarter, and to allow them to live there. The officials of the Leczyca region supported Librach‘s request…to live in the house of the Metner heirs on Blotene (muddy) street number 191… The Librachs declared that they would not wear the Jewish garb and that they would send their children to Catholic schools. In October 1849 the Warsaw governing authorities permitted the Librach brothers to conduct a factory and live outside of the quarter. The Librach brothers, the first large scale Jewish manufacturers, set up a textile enterprise in Zgierz. (http://www.jewishgen.org/yizkor/zgierz.html/tocb) When my grandparents married, my grandfather joined the Librach‘s textile business and became a wool expert. However, in September 18, 1939 after the German invasion of Poland, one of the first anti-Jewish decrees was that Jews were forbidden to engage in the textile industry. The Germans expropriated all Jewish businesses (Kozez, A Jewish History of Lodz, Poland http://kehilalinks.jewishgen.org/lodz/history.htm). My paternal grandfather became very pessimistic and decided to flee Poland with the family to Russia. They were moving from one place to another until they ―settled‖ in Tashkent, Uzbekistan. Food was scarce, but there was wool. My grandfather offered the Uzbeks to build a thread spinning shop that would speed the process of thread making. His knowledge became a means of survival. My mother grew up in Krakow outside of the Jewish quarter, beside the Vavel palace. When the Germans invaded Poland in 1939, they bombed the city and especially vi the palace. My maternal grandparents were also very pessimistic about the war and decided to leave Poland as well. In a very ironic twist, the pessimists survived. The optimists, the rest of the family, who believed that nothing bad would happen and that in any case, the family as a whole has to stay together in Poland, ended up in Auschwitz. The Soviet army took my mother and her family to the Ural Mountains in Siberia, to a forced labor camp. Following the Sikorsky Agreement, in 1941, the Soviets granted amnesty to the thousands of Polish prisoners-of-war, among them my mother and her family. Knowing that they couldn‘t go back home to Poland, they continued moving from one place to another. Following the sun and the good weather in Asia, they ended up in Tashkent, Uzbekistan. There, my mother and my father met, as young teenagers. They went to the same school that was organized by the Joint Organization.

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