Denmark's national gallery - Statens Museum for Kunst - is currently carrying out a major rehang of its permanent collections. In May of this year a suite of rooms reopened under the title "Danish and Nordic Art 1750-1900". A leaflet accompanying the display explains that "[t]his part of the gallery collections unfolds the overall lines in Danish and Nordic art through 150 years."

Some of these "lines" are, however, noticeably broader and longer than others. If my maths is correct, nine out of ten works are by Danish artists. Holland, France and Switzerland are as well represented as Finland, i.e. by the presence of a single artwork for each country.

So, despite its title, this is not really an exhibition about Nordic art. Even if notions of national identity, taste and interpretation are occasionally questioned, this presentation of Danish art follows the same "line" as that taken by Denmark’s first art historian, Niels Laurits Høyen in an essay from 1863 entitled, "On National Art". An extract from this publication appears on one of the gallery walls (room 218A). It reads:

    "Believe me! The safest, surest, and straightest road to building ever closer ties with our brothers
    in Sweden and Norway is to affirm ourselves as Danish, including in our art; to bring our nationality,
    our country, our myths to bear; to show that we need no borrowed feathers for our adornment." (1)

If Høyen were alive today he would surely be delighted to see that, in the year 2011, Statens Museum for Kunst had the audacity to give the title "Danish and Nordic Art 1750-1900" to an exhibition in which 356 out of 392 works are by Danish artists.

______
(1) This text is included in Høyen's Skrifter of 1871 (p. 182) and reads: "Tror mig! den sikreste og retteste Vej til bestandig at komme i nærmere og nærmere Forbindelse med vore Brødre i Sverig og Norge, er at hævde os selv som Danske, ogsaa i vor Konst at gjøre vor Nationalitet, vort Land, vore Sagn gjældende, at vise, at vi ikke behøve at bruge fremmede Fjer for at smykke os med."


__________
Supplemental
(24/11/2011)

This blog posting has been developed further and used as the basis for the following article:
Burch, Stuart (2011) "Ude godt, men hjemme bedst: Dansk og Nordisk Kunst 1750-1900",
Danske Museer, Vol. 24, No. 5, pp. 9-13

If you don't read Swedish the newspaper clipping above will not make any sense. Well, that's not entirely true. The extract inside the red box shouldn't be totally meaningless. Whether you're in Stockton or Stockholm, golf is golf. And "wild and crazy" is.... well, what exactly? I am a native English speaker but I have never to my knowledge used this expression. Where did it come from and why do Swedes insist on using it? It sounds so embarrassingly wrong to my ears.

A search on Google reveals that "A Wild and Crazy Guy" is the title of a 1978 album by the US comedian, Steve Martin. And "Wild and Crazy Kids" is the name of a US game show. These awful-sounding creations indicate that it's more "wild and crazy" in the United States than the United Kingdom. But are these the popular culture origins of the Swedish phrase? This is certainly possible given that many Swedes punctuate their speech with the word "liksom". This seems to be a direct mimicking of the slang use of the (American) English word, "like". But, then again, perhaps it was Sweden that pioneered the bulimic usage of this little word? After all, those Swedes are, like, so wild and crazy...

Cities are remarkable but potentially overwhelming places. Our brains are constantly striving to make sense of a flood of sensory information. There is simply too much to take in. So our minds unconsciously filter out extraneous details: sights, sounds, smells, textures - even tastes.

An example of what I mean is contained in the image and sound file included in this blog posting.

What could be more mundane and unremarkable than a street crossing?

Well, as a matter of fact this piece of utilitarian street furniture helps make a place distinct. Shape, colour, design and technology vary from country to country. So too does the "language", i.e. the symbols and sounds. They function like dialects: strange enough to be noteworthy, but familiar enough for us to make sense of them - even if we are visitors from distant lands that possess alternative species of street crossings.

So the clicks and beeps, flashing lights and illuminated signs all play their role in making somewhere familiar or strange.

We could illustrate this by documenting pedestrian crossings in various countries and using the resulting collection of images and sounds as the basis for a compilation of city effects.

Remember too that this would be a snapshot in time. There was an era when the towns and cities of Sweden did not  resonate to the clickings of its pedestrian crossings. When did they arrive? Who decided that they should click and not beep? And who determined on the duration of the beat?

These metronomes will surely disappear one day. They'll be replaced with something new or nothing at all. Will Swedes mourn their loss? Or will they listen to the silence, scratch their heads and ask: something's different, something's missing... but I can't quite put my finger on what's changed...

Above: Pedestrian crossing in Stockholm, 27/08/2011, 01:08

The Guardian newspaper has published a selection of the "UK's best sculptures of women". Its compiler, Laura Barton, enthuses that the "UK is alive with beautiful sculptures of women" (Barton 2011). Alas, her sweet selection of lovely ladies confirms observations made years ago by the likes of Janet Monk (1992) and Marina Warner (1987). They point out that our streets and squares are swamped with statues of men but hardly any women. Yes, the latter do appear, but almost always as abstract, moralising symbols which, according to Marina Warner, "hardly ever interact with real, individual women" (Warner 1987: 28).

With this in mind, Barton ought to have sought out real women who have distinguished themselves by their beautiful achievements rather than their beautiful breasts. Candidates might include the Emmeline Pankhurst memorial near the Houses of Parliament (Arthur George Walker, 1930). Or how about Mark Quinn's Alison Lapper Pregnant that once graced Trafalgar Square's "Fourth plinth" (Burch 2009)?

One positive outcome of The Guardian's bevy of beauties is the reactions of some online readers. They have used the list to promote statues of "missing" women. A case in point is crittero, who laments the lack of a public monument to Mary Wollstonecraft "'founder' of women's movement". Meanwhile, MissB1983 has provided a link to a very interesting article concerning "Women's erasure from women's memorials" (Dougherty 2011).

_________
References

Barton, Laura (2011) "Female forms", The Guardian, 25/08, accessed 27/08/2011 at,
    http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2011/aug/25/female-uk-sculptures-women
Burch, Stuart (2009) "Trafalgar Square: a public lecture", 09/08, talk given on Trafalgar Square's
    "fourth plinth" as part of Antony Gormley's One & Other (6th July - 14th October 2009). Transcript of talk.
Dougherty, Carolyn (2011) "Women's erasure from women's memorials", 16/06, the f word, accessed 27/08/2011 at,
    http://www.thefword.org.uk/features/2011/06/womens_erasure_monuments
Monk, Janice (1992) "Gender in the landscape: expressions of power and meaning",
    in Kay Anderson and Fay Gale (eds.), Inventing Places: Studies in Cultural Geography,
    Melbourne, Longman Cheshire, 1992, pp. 123-138
Warner, Marina (1987) Monuments and Maidens. The Allegory of the Female Form, London, Pan Books

Tourism takes many forms. One variety goes by such names as dark, disaster or grief tourism. In addition, "Thanatos" - the Greek word for death - has given rise to the concept of thanatourism (Seaton 1996). This has led to an extensive itinerary of "fatal attractions" (Rojek 1999) for "tombstone tourists" to visit (see e.g. Stanton 2003).

The motivations for taking such journeys vary. Travelling to a site of genocide is, for many, a pilgrimage - part of a duty of remembrance and a hope that we might learn from the past to avoid making the same mistakes in the present. Others, however, visit places of death for reasons that are far more prurient. Some people gain positive pleasure and excited curiosity from the pain and suffering of others.

Steps therefore need to be taken to discourage this from happening: to prevent "black spots" (Rojek 1999) of the wrong sort from appearing on the tourist map (1). This explains the decision by Gloucester City Council to purchase a house - and immediately demolish it. The property in question - 25 Cromwell Street - was once the home of Frederick and Rosemary West. They killed women and girls there and hid the bodies around the house and in the garden. The local council saw to it that everything connected with this place of murder was ground to dust. The site was then covered in concrete. These steps were taken in order to stop the relics becoming grisly commodities to be bought and sold by collectors of the macabre (Moyes 1996).

I was reminded of this after reading that the cellar of Josef Fritzl's house is to be pumped with concrete. This should ensure that the place where his daughter was imprisoned can never again be entered. It seems, however, that no decision has been reached regarding the house, which still stands in the Lower Austrian town of Amstetten (AP 2011).

The decision to entomb the Fritzls' cellar might not prevent it from being reopened in the future. Years from now public attitudes could allow it to be carefully restored and made accessible to curious tourists. There is a precedent for this, albeit one that has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with dark tourism: Eidsvoll is a famous tourist attraction in Norway due to its connection with the drawing up of the Norwegian constitution in 1814. In the latter part of the 19th century the cellar of the building was destroyed. It is now being restored ("recreated" might be a better word) in time for the bicentenary of 2014. Some have condemned this decision, arguing that the construction of a "fake" cellar will turn Eidsvoll into "democracy's Disneyland" (Engen 2011).

Norway, of course, is currently trying to come to terms with the terrorist attacks of 22 July that left 77 people dead. The sites of these killings plus all manner of places associated with the terrorist responsible provide fertile ground for dark tourism.

For a final reflection on some of these issues, let's mentally return to Fritzl's cellar. The decision to fill it with concrete is counterproductive. Its transformation has turned it in to an artwork akin to Rachel Whiteread's House (1993). This now-demolished project centred on 193 Grove Road, a regular end-of-terrace Victorian-era house in the East London borough of Tower Hamlets. Whiteread filled the interior with flowcrete. The bricks and roof were then painstakingly removed to reveal the uncanny inside-out home.

Even closer to the Fritzl "readymade" is Harald Persson's Nedgrävning (Burial). This was the name given to an art project  carried out in November 1994. The Swedish artist dug a hole in Picasso Park in Halmstad and buried a white, one metre cubed block of concrete. This event was largely forgotten, until a couple of years ago when it was included in an art guide to the town. Tourists can now visit the site... and see nothing at all. This is probably exactly what happens at the now-vanished 25 Cromwell Street in Gloucester and the sealed-up cellar of the Fritzl house in Amstetten.
_________

(1) This raises some vexing questions. Is it possible to distinguish between "good" and "bad" dark tourism? What is the "wrong" sort of dark tourist or the "wrong" sort of "black spot"? Or is appropriateness determined by the motivations of the visitor and the nature of the interpretation? If so, can anything become a visitor attraction?

_________
References

AP (2011) "Josef Fritzl basement to be filled with concrete", Associated Press, 12/08, accessed 26/08/2011 at,
    http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/aug/12/fritzl-basement-filled-concrete
Engen, Øyvind Bosnes (2011) "Falsk historie om 1814", Romerikes Blad, 18/05, accessed 26/08/2011 at,
    http://www.rb.no/lokal_kultur/article5611181.ece
Lingwood, James (ed.) (1995) House, London: Phaidon
Moyes, Jojo (1996) "Fred West house to be demolished", Independent, 05/10, accessed 26/08/2011 at,
    http://www.independent.co.uk/news/fred-west-house-to-be-demolished-1356745.html
Persson, Harald (1994/2011) Nedgrävning. Fotografisk documentation (photographs by Joacim Bengtsson), Stockholm
Rojek, Chris (1999) "Fatal Attractions" in Boswell, D. and Evans, J. (eds.) Representing the Nation:
    Histories, Heritage and Museums, London: Routledge, pp. 185-207
Seaton, A.V. (1996) "Guided by the dark: from thanatopsis to thanatourism", International Journal of Heritage Studies,
    Vol. 2, No. 4, pp. 234-244
Stanton Scott (2003) The Tombstone Tourist: Musicians, New York: Pocket Books

Question: What would be the most appropriate way to signal the end of a 42-year dictatorship?
Answer: By targeting those symbols most closely associated with the regime.

This is exactly what has occurred in Colonel Muammar Gaddafi's compound in the Libyan capital, Tripoli. Its walls have been breached and its defences overrun. And the dictator's decapitated head lolls beneath the feet of jubilant rebel fighters. But this is not the real thing. It's a golden substitute, hacked from the body of an idolatrous statue. Once the symbol of a despot's supremacy, this obscene portrait is now a simple full stop: the final, clinching proof that the tyrant's rule is over.

___________
Supplemental
20/10/2011

Events have now reached their inevitable, bloody conclusion. Colonel Gaddafi never did face justice - just the butts of rifles and the barrel of the gun that appears to have ended his life. Yet "[k]illing him is not enough", insists Alaa al-Ameri writing in the Guardian:

    We have to forget him. To do that we have to expunge his
    influence from every aspect of our lives. Only then can we
    be free of him.(1)

The idea of Gaddafi being utterly erased seems remote, not least given the grisly appeal of death and disaster tourism.(2) And would it be sensible to totally forget this monster? Surely the best way of safeguarding against some future Gaddafi would be to remember the terror and despair that he brought both to the people of Libya and to the citizens of other countries, not least the United Kingdom and the United States. Moreover, we would be wise to remember the cancerous influence he exerted on foreign powers - as exemplified by the actions of the former British premier, Tony Blair.(3)

The people of Libya can be forgiven for wishing to forget Gaddafi. But the people of Britain would do well to keep him in mind.

____
Notes

(1) al-Ameri, Alaa (2011) "Gaddafi is dead. We must now forget him", The Guardian, 20/10, accessed 20/10/2011 at, http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2011/oct/20/gaddafi-dead-libya
(2) See my blog posting, "Sites of sickening sights", 26/08/2011.
(3) Brady, Brian (2011) "Evidence grows of Blair's links with Gaddafi", The Independent, 18/09, accessed 20/10/2011 at, http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/evidence-grows-of-blairs-links-with-gaddafi-2356576.html.

"One could not learn history from architecture any more than one could learn it from books. Statues, inscriptions, memorial stones, the names of streets – anything that might throw light upon the past had been systematically altered."

George Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four (orig. pub. 1949), Penguin, 1969, p. 82

The Reverend Billy and the Church of Stop Shopping
"Beatitudes of Buylessness"
Bill Talen (lyrics) and William Moses

A trip to Karlstad has provided more ammunition for my article "Banal Nordism: Recomposing An Old Song of Peace" (the title of the paper I gave at a recent conference in Tromsø).

The city museum's major summer exhibition is entitled, "Made in Värmland". It features an eclectic range of objects conceived or constructed in the region. Taking pride of place on the cover of the brochure is a close-up of a sleek, hard and very erect bullet. This was manufactured by Norma AS based in Åmotfors. (Surely only a Nordic armaments firm could take its name from a Bellini opera?)

This year Norma aims to produce 30 million bullets in 110 different calibre. And all this from a country that has only known peace for nearly 200 years...

For musical accompaniment to this box of bullets, I recommend "Sundance kid" by the Swedish group, Kent.

Objects do not have an inherent value or significance. Instead, it is people - individuals and societies - that attach meaning and importance to things. As a consequence, anything can become special. Even an old scrap of paper. Proof of this can be found by clicking on the image to the left. In normal circumstances it would be quite unremarkable, simply a record of how much someone paid for a meal onboard a ship. However, the fact that it forms a link with one of the worst shipping disasters of the 20th century makes it very special. Indeed, it is so special that it could be preserved in a museum like Sjöhistoriska museet (Sweden's national Maritime Museum). This institution possesses a number of objects relating to the MS Estonia. This was the name of the ship that left the Estonian capital, Tallinn on 27th September 1994. Shortly after midnight of the following day it sank in the Baltic Sea resulting in the deaths of an estimated 852 passengers and crew.

Just over a year before that disaster my father-in-law was a passenger on that very same ship. At some point after it sank he came across his old receipt. He hadn't meant to keep it. He had simply forgotten to throw it away. If he had rediscovered it on, say, 26th September 1994 he might well have tossed it onto the recycling pile. Now he treasures it as a memorial of the disaster and as a reminder of how uncomfortably close he came to being a part of it.

Who knows, perhaps one day he might donate it to Sweden's Maritime Museum? If he does decide to do this it will be preserved by archivists and curators with the same care as that devoted to a rare mediaeval manuscript or a priceless painting. This is because the receipt forms an intimate link to a moment of history. This mundane little thing is something to which we can all relate. It is therefore far more effective than the large stone monuments that have been erected to commemorate the disaster. It's a tiny, fragile paper memorial to all those people who had the misfortune to travel on the MS Estonia just under one year and two months after my dear father-in-law.

William Hazlitt's dismissal of statues and other tangible monuments echoes Charles Dickens's desire to avoid being turned into stone.

            "I conjure my friends on no account to make me the subject of any
            monument, memorial, or testimonial whatever. I rest my claims
            to the remembrance of my country upon my published works..."

So stated Charles Dickens in his will dated 12 May 1869. But with the 200th anniversary of his birth rapidly approaching it would appear that his exhortations will be in vain. Portsmouth, the place of his birth, intends to erect a statue to be inaugurated in April next year.

If Dickens's express wishes are to be ignored, I suggest that a wall of books be erected around the monument. Only those who can demonstrate that they have read at least one of his stories should be allowed to creep between the covers to glimpse the great man of letters, "immovable as a statue" (The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club, Macmillan, 1904 ed., p. 278).

This would at least ensure that Dickens's "claims to remembrance" remain based on his "published works".

Ai Wei Wei, Chinese artist, male, 54 years old
Charged with 12 million yuan in back taxes and fines
Held by the authorities from early April until 22 June 2011

Odd Nerdrum, Norwegian painter, male, 67 years old
Failed to declare 10.474.100 Norwegian kroner for tax purposes
Sentenced to 2 years imprisonment; plans to appeal

Today - 19th August - is Afghan Independence Day. This marks the signing of the Treaty of Rawalpindi of 1919, an event which signalled the end of British control over Afghanistan. In happier times such an occasion might be a trigger for celebration and rapprochement. Alas, today's anniversary is a literal trigger. Militants have stormed the offices of the British Council in Kabul. The timing of the attack was deliberate: Taliban spokesmen made the link between their murderous assault and the events of nearly 100 years ago.

Commemorative events reveal more about the present than they do the past. For proof of this we can look to the year 2019. How will the centenary of Afghan independence be marked? Will it feature musical performances and history assignments written by Afghan schoolgirls? If so, it will be apparent that at least some of the goals of the Western forces have been met. If not, it will probably be because the Taliban have resumed full control. They too will no doubt mark the centenary, but in a manner that will accord with their norms.

We can at least take one positive thing from all this: history matters. For as soon as we begin to explore the past we start to address the issues of the present. That both are equally contested is bloodily apparent to the people of Afghanistan and the soldiers that are waging a war in their midst.

___________

Supplemental

Listening to the news broadcasts on BBC Radio 4 this morning (20/08/2011) brought home to me just how important anniversaries are when it comes to framing present-day events. Three of the top news stories were given temporal, commemorative frames:

• One month has passed since the terrorist attacks in Norway that left 77 people dead
• It is two years to the day since the release of Abdelbaset Ali Mohmed al-Megrah, the Libyan accused of placing a bomb on Pan Am Flight 103, an aircraft that exploded over the Scottish town of Lockerbie on 21 December 1988 killing 270 people
• Exactly twenty years ago an unsuccessful attempt was made to stage a coup d'état that would seize control from the then Soviet president, Mikhail Gorbachev

Up until the end of last year it was forbidden for visitors to take photographs at Sweden's Moderna Museet. But now the same practice is positively encouraged: in 2011 photographic images from the museum's collection have replaced all other art forms in the gallery spaces. Visitors are invited to add to this photofest by submitting their snapshots to the museum. These are then vetted before taking pride of place in front of Andy Warhol's cow wallpaper.

But traces of the abandoned rule banning photography are still in evidence. Behind the ticket desk can be seen an icon of a crossed-out camera. This is hard to remove: it's integrated into the Barbara Kruger artwork that currently covers the walls of the foyer.

The image accompanying this blog posting was taken in late December 2010, just after the ban on the public taking photos was lifted. It shows an easily overlooked "modified readymade". On close inspection it becomes apparent that the sign has been carefully altered. Artfully drawn lines radiate from the camera such that the sign was now intended to mean that photographs could be taken, only without a flash.

I wonder where this sign is now? Has it been preserved and accessioned into the museum collection? Just in case this did not happen, I've opted to document it here (click the image above). The photographed sign is a little parasite pointing out the arbitrary nature of museums. This capriciousness isn't very apparent, however, because their subjective and rule-bound nature is disavowed by a carefully maintained mantle of objectivity and properness.

Some simple questions:
If it is now alright to take photographs at Moderna Museet, why was it banned previously? What did the injunction achieve? Who invoked it and who revoked it - and for what reasons? Why was the rule change not even mentioned? Might the ban be reintroduced one day?

_________
Supplemental (03/09/2011)
The sign relating to no-flash photography has now been upgraded to a proper-looking laminated panel:

I'm not a prophet or a stone age man
Just a mortal with potential of a superman
I'm living on

Bowie, David (1971) "Quicksand", Hunky Dory, Rykodisc, 05:03

In a previous blog posting I discussed the shortcuts people take when walking from A to B. If enough pedestrians follow the same route they cause erosion and, before you know it, an additional unofficial path is created: a "path of desire". But clearly not everyone finds them desirable. I found evidence of this in Bergshamra, just outside Stockholm. This can be seen by clicking on the image to the left. It shows a makeshift barrier that has been put up in an attempt to dissuade people from walking on the grass. Meanwhile, the image below shows that this seems to work: the grass has grown back and the desire path is left sadly unrequited.

Have you ever been in a park or other grassed area and come across a line of bare soil running through it? This is in all likelihood a "desire path" or "desire line": an unofficial route marked out by people's feet. In 1955 the Chicago Area Transportation Study commented:

"A desire line map shows the sum of all the straight lines connecting the origins and the destinations of all trips. The desire line is the shortest line between origin and destination, and expresses the way a person would like to go, if such a way were available" (cited in Throgmorton & Eckstein, c1999).


Sometimes desire lines can be rather beautiful or even intriguing: like this X-marks-the-spot I spotted in Tromsø in northern Norway.

Source
Throgmorton, James & Eckstein, Barbara (c1999) Desire Lines: The Chicago Area Transportation Study and the Paradox of Self in Post-War America, accessed 15/08/2011 at, http://www.nottingham.ac.uk/3cities/throgeck.htm

See also:
Burch, Stuart (2011) "Paths of undesire", blog posting, 17/08/2011, available at, http://www.stuartburch.com/1/post/2011/08/paths-of-undesire.html

Supplemental
05/12/2011

At my place of work there was once a series of desire paths snaking their way between various buildings. Rather than trying to prevent their use, my employer has made the sensible decision to make them official. What was once trampled-down grass is now a neat asphalt route. Permanent desire, in other words!

Shepard Fairey is a graffiti artist from Los Angeles best known for "Hope", a poster of Barack Obama that coincided with the US presidential election of 2008. In the summer of 2011, Fairey (by now a very mainstream "street artist") travelled to Copenhagen to launch an exhibition of his work. Whilst there he painted a large public mural featuring the word "peace" plus a dove and the figure "69". This appeared on the gable-end of a house adjacent to Ungdomshuset (the youth house) that once stood at Jagtvej 69 in Nørrebro. It was there that left-wingers used to gather - until, that is, it was demolished by the local authorities. This event is documented in Recent Danish History (2008) by the artist, Jens Haaning. It consists of eight postcards, the final one of which shows police attacking a group of demonstrators alongside a text that reads: "1st of March 2007: The police clear the Youth House at Jagtvej in Copenhagen and the building is demolished."

It seems that Fairey's work has been interpreted by some as a piece of official propaganda in support of the demolition, not least given that the artist received payment from the city council. This led to a very hostile reception. Fairey and his assistant were physically attacked and the mural they had produced was vandalised: paint bombs were thrown at it and the phrase "No peace!" was added. This has prompted Fairey to allow the work to be altered: the word "peace" has been replaced by a text reading "Intet glemt, intet tilgivet 69" (nothing forgotten, nothing forgiven 69). In addition, the lower register now shows protestors being confronted by riot squads whilst the blades of a police helicopter whirl overhead.

All this is a far cry from the habitual link between the Nordic countries and peace. It is therefore fitting that I should have found out about the erasure of that very word - PEACE - from Fairey's mural on the day that I gave my paper, "Banal Nordism: Recomposing an old song of peace" at the Nordisk historikermøte 2011 conference currently taking place in the Norwegian city of Tromsø.

Sources
Stanners, Peter (2011a) "Street artist's work opens old wounds", The Copenhagen Post, 03/08, accessed 13/08/2011 at, http://www.cphpost.dk/culture/culture/122-culture/51955-shepard-fairey.html

Stanners, Peter (2011b) "Controversial street artist assaulted after exhibition opening", The Copenhagen Post, 11/08, accessed 13/08/2011 at, http://www.cphpost.dk/culture/culture/122-culture/51980-controversial-street-artist-assaulted-after-exhibition-opening.html

Groups commemorate notable individuals in a variety of ways. This includes erecting tangible monuments (plaques, statues, obelisks and even whole buildings) as well as grave markers such as memorial headstones. But remembering also takes intangible or non-material form. An instance of this occurs every time the media reports the name of the latest recipient of a "Nobel prize". The award commemorates Alfred Nobel (1833-96), the person who initiated the scheme in his last will and testament. Of course, the fact that many people have never heard of Alfred Nobel is a reminder that forgetting is far more common than remembering.

Another important thing to remember (or forget) is that commemoration need not be a marker of praise. The word "quisling", for instance, means "a traitor to one's country" (OED 2007). It is derived from Vidkun Quisling (1887-1945), the so-called Minister-President of Nazi-occupied Norway. During the war his surname became synonymous with treasonable behaviour. Its use as a noun occurred first in The Times newspaper’s article entitled "Quislings everywhere" (15 April 1940, p.5).

Quisling is a less familiar word today, but it still has currency. It could quite legitimately be used in reference to Anders Behring Breivik (born 1979), a Norwegian whose extreme right-wing beliefs led him to murder 77 of his fellow citizens on 22nd July 2011.

-----------
OED (2007) "quisling, n. and adj." Third edition, December 2007; online version June 2011. <http://www.oed.com/view/Entry/156777>; accessed 11 August 2011. An entry for this word was first included in A Supplement to the OED III, 1982.

The International Herald Tribune reports that the Edgar Allan Poe House & Museum risks closure, in part because the funding it receives from the city of Baltimore is being cut. Its problem, it seems, is that "the museum sits amid a blighted housing project, far from the city's tourist center, and attracts only 5,000 visitors a year" (Taylor 2011a). How extremely short-sighted of Poe to have chosen to live off the tourist map! Let's dismantle the building brick-by-brick and move it to a more salubrious location... But wait a minute: surely the fact that it is in a deprived area ought to mean that it gets more not less help? A "blighted" neighbourhood is hardly likely to be awash with heritage attractions, is it? How many local people actually visit the house? Does the organisation that manages the property collaborate with local schools and community organisations? Isn't the existence of the museum a brilliant opportunity to get the residents of a supposed "blighted housing project" interested in literature? Children - and boys in particular - would surely find a grisly appeal in a short story such as "Berenice". It was written around the time that Poe lived at 203 North Amity Street and tells the tale of a man who digs up his cousin's not-quite-dead body in order to extract her teeth. It is a pity that Baltimore's public officials don't show the same sort of zeal when it comes to extracting benefits from the city's heritage.

Sources
Taylor, Kate (2011a) "The fall of the house of Poe: A museum faces closure", International Herald Tribune (Global Edition), 09/08, p. 2
Taylor, Kate (2011b) "Fiscal Woe Haunting Baltimore Poe House", The New York Times, 07/08, accessed 09/08/2011 at, http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/08/arts/edgar-allan-poe-house-in-baltimore-faces-closing.html

An occasional series documenting the first thing one
sees in your visitor-friendly museum: the "Do Not..." sign

Do Not... Ateneum
Ateneum, Finland

An occasional series documenting the first thing one
sees in your visitor-friendly museum: the "Do Not..." sign

Do Not... NDG (detail)
Nacionalinėje dailės galerijoje
(NDG, National Gallery of Art (Lithuania)