Museums are my church, museums and art galleries. Every one is different, every one has its own signature, its own feeling. In their own way, each brings me peace.
The east coast of Canada has a great deal of memories attached to it for me, not all of it good. Not all of it bad by any means, but definitely mixed. Despite calling here at least twice so far this season, I haven’t set foot in Quebec for nearly three years. But with only a week left in this contract it seemed pointless to waste a port. So out I went and just walked…and found myself into the Museum of Civilization, which is only steps from the ship.
Like I said, all museums are different; this one has a heavy focus on Native culture, which I always find both intriguing and horribly sad. So many things that we had no right to ever do, or to ever forget. In this case all captured behind glass and over headsets. It makes it look so clean and sterile, when no culture is like that, and the loss of a culture even less so. But what hypnotized me here wasn’t the exhibits themselves, it was the huge screens that surrounded it that showed nature: crystal clear lakes and staring eagles. There is no planet B people…we need to remember that. I can’t remember who said it but it is true “only when the last animal has been slaughtered and the last tree chopped down will we realize that we can’t eat money…”
The rest of the museum was mostly to do with provincial culture – which has been tumultuous to say the least – except for the one bit at the end that caught me a lot by surprise.
It was three doors, three identical doors in the wall, that’s it. All with the same handle, all the same oversized false keyhole. The doorknobs only spun, instead the doors pulled open, but only one actually let you in. The exhibit behind those doors was one of the oddest that I’ve yet seen. It was about the senses…not in the scientific way, but in how we should use them. One section of the place was a hall of mirrors made to look like the middle of the woods, another a replica of a beautifully cluttered attic (flashing me right back to when I was studying cabinets of curiosities in Uni), one a miniature of the night sky…and then the very last one. Having made my way through the previous few rooms I had no idea what to expect; but what I didn’t expect was complete darkness.
Total and complete, darkness.
The room was called “The Cellar”, and it was geared towards focusing you on the sense of touch. I didn’t make it through the first time, in fact I blatantly cheated, using the screen from my phone to light up the far wall. But the second time I went through I did it right; and it was the most unsettling experience I’ve had in a long time. Not frightening exactly, not once I knew I was going to be able to get out, but knowing that there are people who experience the world this way, and experiencing just how much your other senses do heighten when you are in total darkness.
That tiny dark room was the most enlightening part of my day.
enlightening indeed
thanks for sharing