The life of objects starts long before they enter the museum and continues throughout their institutional journey. Once in the museum space, artefacts drift from crates to boxes, go out for an exhibition, and finally slip back to a comfy location until being extracted again from this period of rest. Days, months, and sometimes years may pass before Collection Researchers become the witnesses of their awakening. From the back-of-house, where objects arise and slowly unfold, we not only get to watch, both respectfully silent and impatient at the prospect of discovering their stories. We also assist and guide this new chapter of their social lives. Like the term curating – from curare, “to care” in Latin – indicates, this is how the first steps of the curatorial and research process begin: with care.

Decorated paddles. Geographical provenances given are those recorded in the Museum’s acquisition records. Left: Deni, Santa Cruz Islands. Donated by Bishop J.R. Selwyn (E 1900.185); Middle: Isabel Island. Bought from Stevens Auction rooms, originally from the Hyams Collection (E 1907.592). Right: San Cristoval [Makira]. Originally from the Brown collection(E 1895.148).

A couple of months ago, Research Associate Lucie Carreau and I started exploring the collection of dance clubs from the Solomon Islands held at the Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology (MAA) in Cambridge. Mostly collected between the late 19^th and the mid 20^th century, these clubs showcase the Solomons’ extraordinary diversity of forms and styles. Some are small, some are large, some are heavy, some light, some are colourful and others are monochrome. Despite their great variety, both in terms of forms and of provenance, all dance clubs were stored together on vertical racks when the MAA’s storage was redeveloped in the 1980s.

After several weeks of background research, caring for these clubs and researching their trajectories begins, in this context, by detaching them from their racks. It is a rather physical task. Hands washed, gloves on and hair tied up, one of us gets on a ladder to undo their attachments. The other stretches her arms up to secure the piece and takes them down gently, one by one. While physically encountering the artefacts – feeling their weight, looking at their patterns, etc. – we make our way to the Bevan/working area, where we lay the clubs on tables covered with tissue paper. Aligned next to each other, they form a heterogeneous ensemble and remind us the very definition of a collection. And, precisely, their history as parts of various collections becomes a focus at this stage of the encounter.

We first measure the dance clubs and look for their one or many museum numbers, which are inscribed directly on them or on attached labels. Matching these numbers with catalogue records, Lucie Carreau is able to get a sense of where they came from and/or of who donated or collected them. Observing the pieces we hunt for any detail or mark that would allow us to piece together their trajectory. Getting increasingly acquainted with them Lucie writes a thorough description that she adds onto the database. This description provides as many leads as possible. As such it is an open door to further research and future encounters. In the meantime, I take the clubs to a provisional photo studio to pursue their examination through the camera lens. Although the photographs are taken in a systemic manner, to a certain extent they adapt to the artefacts’ multiple agencies and the stories they may convey. Mindful of their long journey in and from Oceania to the museum, I shift the clubs gently and let them guide the photographic process.

Vertical rack storage, Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology, Cambridge.

Back in the Bevan, Lucie and I get ready to complete this first caring phase. Having identified the clubs’ most fragile points, we craft new packagings and attachment systems for them when required. Finally, with their new wrappings and labels, we take them back to the storage and re-attach them onto their allocated racks. Nicely ordered and more comfortably stored, the dance clubs from the Solomon Islands can now rest again. Meanwhile, we won’t. The research has only begun.

Alice Christophe, February 2016.