Work is progressing well on Whakahoutanga, the Museum’s seismic strengthening and building improvement programme. Here are a few pics that say it all – do you recognise the galleries?
Work is progressing well on Whakahoutanga, the Museum’s seismic strengthening and building improvement programme. Here are a few pics that say it all – do you recognise the galleries?
Christmas. A time for family, gifts, religious observation, and of course food. And what would be better to complete the feast than a Christmas cake?
The traditional Christmas cake, as we know it today, began life as a plum porridge. Porridge was traditionally eaten on Christmas Eve as a way to line the stomach after a day of fasting in preparation for the Christmas feast. Porridge isn’t the most exciting of foods, unadorned as it is, and certainly not a celebratory meal. Soon it was smartened up with the addition of spices, representing the exotic gifts from the Three Wise Men, honey and plums or dried fruit. This mixture was then wrapped in a cloth and boiled, and hence the Christmas pudding was born.
This was the base recipe for an Easter dish as well, with a few additions. In the 16th century people would prepare a Christmas pudding mix, but also add wheat flour and eggs to a portion of the base to create a cake for consumption at Easter time. Over time, the oatmeal was removed from the recipe, as was the meat that was often included, and more butter, eggs, and wheat flour were added. This helped the mixture to hold together much better than the sloppy gruel and dense puddings previously experienced. Wealthy families that could afford an oven baked their mixture which produced a different consistency again, resulting in a firmer cake, which over time was dropped from the Easter menu but has remained a Christmas favourite.
The addition of marzipan and royal icing came later when Oliver Cromwell and his Puritan followers, concerned with excess, banned feasting on 5 January, observed as the last day of the Christmas celebrations. Instead, people made a special Twelfth Night Christmas cake which was laden with almonds and covered in marzipan, and feasted on that instead.
Christmas cakes are traditionally made on “stir-up Sunday”, the last Sunday before Advent; this year it was Sunday 20 November. The cake is then kept upside down and “fed” with brandy or whiskey every week before being eaten at Christmas. The alcohol and sugar act as preservatives and give the spices a chance to develop and fully infuse the cake with festive flavours.
Christmas cakes come in a wide a variety as presents; large, small, heavy, light, rich, meagre, soft, firm, wrapped or unwrapped. There are regional and local variations all over the world for this festive treat. The Scots make a Christmas Dundee cake which is light and crumbly, full of dried fruit, and of course, whiskey. A Japanese Christmas cake is a sponge with icing, decorated with chocolate and strawberries or other fruit. Philippine people use either a traditional English cake or a yellow pound cake with added nuts, which is then soaked in brandy and palm sugar syrup. Those in Yorkshire often don’t ice their Christmas cake, preferring to eat it with Wensleydale or cheddar cheese.
If you feel like getting back to basics, here is a 1701 recipe for a Christmas pottage:
Take of Beef-soup made of Legs of Beef, 12 Quarts; if you wish it to be particularly good, add a couple of Tongues to be boil’d therein. Put fine Bread, slic’d, soak’d, and crumbled; Raisins of the Sun, Currants and Pruants two Lbs. of each; Lemons, Nutmegs, Mace and Cleaves are to be boil’d with it in a muslin Bag; add a Quart of Red Wine and let this be follow’d, after half an Hour’s boyling, by a Pint of Sack. Put it into a cool Place and it will keep through.
Sandi Black is the Archivist at Whanganui Regional Museum.
No, it’s not a bad joke, but a real question we recently faced.
In preparation for the earthquake strengthening schedule to start early in the new year, we have been working at emptying the exhibition spaces and taking everything down off display, including the giant sunfish that has been hanging on the wall since the museum was built in 1928 (minus a few breaks here and there for conservation or rehanging).
The sunfish, or Mola mola, was caught in 1895 and purchased for the collection. It took Museum founder Samuel Drew and three assistants three days to skin the 360cm-long fish, after which it was treated and mounted for later exhibition in the gallery space.
And now it has been temporarily removed and placed in storage while the museum building gets strengthened. A big and rather delicate project.
So, how many men does it take to move a sunfish? Take a look and see for yourself…
About 8,000 men and 4,000 horses, which made up the Main Body and 1st Reinforcements of the New Zealand Expeditionary Force, embarked from Wellington in October 1914, sailing in a convoy via Australia to Europe to join the war. Ten troopships had been requisitioned by the NZ government from shipping companies to accommodate men and horses on this momentous voyage. The NZEF anchored in Hobart, Tasmania, for two days and the men went ashore for marching exercises. They re-embarked and sailed to Albany, Western Australia, on 28 October where they were joined by 28 Australian troopships and escort vessels and about 22,000 men and 3,500 horses.
The combined ANZAC fleet of 38 troopships and escorts, carrying 30,000 soldiers and 7,500 horses left Albany on 1 November 1915. Their destination was no longer Europe.
Turkey had declared war against the Allies only the day before, and the Expeditionary Force was diverted to Egypt. On that leg of the voyage, the convoy encountered war for the first time when sailing to Colombo in Ceylon, now Sri Lanka. While the convoy was at sea, the Imperial German navy cruiser, SMS Emden, captained by Karl von Müller, had raided the Cocos Islands, also known as the Keeling Islands, in the Indian Ocean, in order to destroy British operations that were stationed there.
The Emden was pursued and attacked by the Australian cruiser HMAS Sydney. She was badly damaged and run aground by von Müller to avoid sinking with all hands aboard. More than a third of her crew was killed and most of her surviving crewmen were taken prisoner. Captain von Müller escaped with a small crew in a commandeered schooner and managed to sail back to Germany.
The wounded German prisoners were sent to Australia while the uninjured were taken on board HMAS Sydney to Colombo and transferred to ships in the convoy. The prisoners were interned in Malta after their voyage north and finally repatriated to Germany in 1920.
The ship’s ensign somehow found its way into the hands of New Zealand soldiers. A series of holes in the linen, apparently made by shrapnel, are visible. The simple cotton ensign is composed of a white field with a red cross and a yellow crown at the centre of the cross. It was donated to the Whanganui Regional Museum in 1957.
Also in the Museum collection is a badly stained and dog-eared mimeographed issue of The Arrower, the newspaper of the NZEF aboard HMNZ Transport No.10 Arawa. The magazine records the Emden event in great detail alongside current events, the voyage schedule and poetry. Apparently, this copy of the Arrower was later sunk in a submarine and rescued and acquired by Captain Morgan of the first NZ Expeditionary Force, who donated it to the Museum in 1935. “A.H.W.” puts the Emden event into verse.
Sydney and Emden
Here’s to the Sydney cruiser,
That put the Emden out,
She beat the German bruiser,
With a good Australian clout,
No more the German pirate,
Will sink our helpless ships,
She took the count for the full amount,
When the Sydney came to grips.
The Germans wanted something soft,
So to the Cocos went,
The wireless saw him from aloft,
So “S.O.S.” was sent,
The Sydney quickly took the hint,
And turned her nose about,
In an hour or two the news came through,
The Emden’s down and out.
Libby Sharpe is the Senior Curator at Whanganui Regional Museum.
In the Museum collection is the first telegram to be received in Whanganui. Received at 3.40 pm on 3 November 1869, the telegram was addressed to the settlers of Wanganui and the district and was sent by then Premier William Fox. The message reads, “I congratulate you on the completion of the telegraph. May it strengthen the Bonds of Union + promote the prosperity of the Colony.”
The first government-owned telegraph line in New Zealand was established between Christchurch and Lyttelton in 1862, and the first lines in the North Island appeared two years later. Initially the North Island line was for military use only, to assist with the land wars of the time. By 1866 it had been purchased by the provincial government and incorporated with the wider public telegraph system.
The telegram, or electric telegraph, was revolutionary for its time. Previous attempts at communication were slow and cumbersome, limited to the speed a human could travel on foot, horse, or boat. The invention of the electric telegraph, however, hugely altered the face of global society and economy.
From the first days of electricity in the 18th century people have been finding ways to use it to improve our lives; communications benefited greatly. Various attempts had been made to use electrical currents to send messages but none were very successful until 1837 when William Cooke and Charles Wheatstone started experimenting. They devised a machine on which a series of needles was attached to a board, each of which could turn clockwise or anticlockwise, depending on the electromagnetic charge it received. The operator would choose the direction of the current and the needles would turn to point to corresponding letters on the diamond-shaped board.
This system was gradually refined and simplified until only one needle was required. Numerals were then added to the repertoire. This format was closely followed by Morse code with its familiar dots and dashes, and some telegraph machines were developed with printing capabilities so the message was automatically printed for later deciphering and delivery. Improved communication methods removed the message from the object carrying it and enabled it to move much faster, requiring only someone on the receiving end to transcribe it and ensure its delivery.
Almost instant communication saw the rapid growth of business and organisations, which in turn encouraged society to embrace telegrams for a more personal use. To keep costs down, the message had to be short and to the point – the average telegram was less than 15 words – and required the language to be free of any local or regional colloquialisms which could be misinterpreted.
The speed with which information could travel the globe changed the face of news reporting. Many newspapers began bearing the title of “Telegraph” indicating they received their news timely and accurately. Misinformation still got through, however; the New York Sun and Honolulu Evening Bulletin published on 15 April 1912 both reported receiving telegrams stating all passengers aboard the Titanic had been saved.
By Sandi Black
This year saw the celebration of 10 years of New Zealand Sign Language as an official language of our country. This is a great achievement, considering sign language’s shaky past in New Zealand.
NZSL is closely related to British and Australian SL, and began here with the arrival of deaf immigrants. Like a lot of imports, it developed its own variety to reflect our culture and lifestyle. The first school for the deaf opened 1880 in Sumner, Christchurch, and was followed by other branches in Auckland and Feilding. Sign language, however, was not initially permitted in classrooms and deaf students received the message it was not an appropriate way to communicate. This didn’t stop children and adults from covertly using and creating signs.
A century later in 1979 the Australasian Signed English Language was adopted as part of a new approach of Total Communication in Deaf Education. A more positive point of view developed and in the mid-1980s local sign language was thoroughly researched, documented and named NZSL. It has been adopted for use in deaf education since 1993 and was legally recognised as an official language of NZ in 2006.
But what about other methods of assisted hearing? The Whanganui Regional Museum has two very different hearing aids in the collection. One is the familiar moulded earpiece with an amplifier and battery pack. It dates from 1950s-1960s and was used in the tutorial department at Wanganui Hospital.
The other is significantly older. It is an ear trumpet made by James Woolley & Sons Ltd in the late 19th century. The brass mechanism consists of a sound-capturing bowl which directs the sound through the extendable funnel and into the Bakelite earpiece.
These are just two examples of hearing aids that have been used in the past. Before the more discrete and streamlined models we are used to today, hearing assistance devices were large and bulky, often dysfunctional and bringing attention to the user’s deafness, rather than normalising the condition. Some unusual examples are:
Sandi Black is the Archivist at the Whanganui Regional Museum.
It’s been a long time since this was updated and we apologise – we’ve missed you too! But we are back now so keep checking in to see the latest in updates, research, and interesting stories that we will continue to share with you.
There have been some pretty big changes of late… The main body of the museum building on Watt Street has been closed to allow for important earthquake strengthening work to be undertaken.
But we still want to share our local stories with the public so we are excited to announce that our temporary home on Ridgway Street is now open. An all new exhibition, Te Matapihi – looking into the Museum, joins the Museum Shop and Gallery in the old Post Office building. Entry is free and there are a range of things to check out including the vintage games table, the taxidermy reading cubby, the Museum Explorer, and much more.
Te Matapihi tells the history of the Museum: Drew’s museum 1895-1928; then the new building in Queens Park 1928-1968; and the extension and addition of the Maori Court 1968-2016.
While the new show is telling our story, we will be preparing the next chapter at the Watt Street site. The builders will be working away upstairs on a major earthquake strengthening project, while the collection staff will be downstairs working on a collection storage refit and upgrade.
Exciting times are ahead! Keep checking back here for updates, as well as the usual articles and features we will continue to share.
What could be more fascinating than a book about words? Those heavy tomes with their columns of spellings, definitions, etymologies, and if you’re lucky a little picture to go with it.
OK so maybe dictionaries aren’t everyone’s idea of a good read, but some of them can be quite interesting.
Traditionally a dictionary is an alphabetical list of words used in a particular language. They give pronunciation guides and all the information listed above, and provide the opportunity to exponentially augment one’s vocabulary.
The earliest known dictionaries come from the Akkadian Empire discovered in Ebla – now Syria – and dating to 2300BCE. The earliest English dictionaries were essentially glossaries of French or Latin words with the definitions in English. This is where the word ‘dictionary’ derives, from the 1220 publication of John of Garland’s Dictionarius intended to assist with Latin diction.
Samuel Johnson, an English lexicographer and sufferer of Tourette Syndrome, wrote A Dictionary of the English Language in 1755. Although English dictionaries had been published earlier they were limited and far from definitive, but Johnson’s was credited as the first noteworthy and reliable dictionary produced. This dictionary was used for the next 150 years until the Oxford University Press began publishing their own in 1884.
But what started as a serious endeavour has, as human nature tends to at times, turned into an opportunity to laugh and ‘alternative’ dictionaries are now commonly available.
Some list words that were once commonplace and are now no longer used. For example, Groak: to silently stare at someone as they are eating in the hopes they will give you some of their food.
Some are completely fictitious, such as Douglas Adams’ The Meaning of Liff which attributes definitions to place names in England. For example, Cromarty: the brittle sludge which clings to the top of ketchup bottles.
And of course the token tiny dictionary, a much-condensed version printed in miniscule text and often mounted in handy keyrings. The image here is of Bryce’s Smallest English Dictionary which measures just 26x19mm and comes with a handy carry case.
Not to mention the annual contest of what words will be allowed in. This year the Oxford English Dictionary permitted Twerk: a dance performed to popular music in a sexually provocative manner involving thrusting hip movements and a low squatting stance.
The Museum’s edition of the dictionary of Cockney Rhyming Slang would be very useful if you’re planning a New Year’s trip abroad. We hope you enjoy reading this linen draper. Did Santa bring you army rocks, or did you get a macaroni? Take it easy on the Brian O’Linn and Jack O’Dandy this New Years.
By Sandi Black, Archivist
Check out this blog on the joys and mysteries of working with a Museum’s Natural History Collection.
I have an impression that there is a large disparity between how the public views museums and how scientists who use museums view them. Presumably there are survey data on public attitudes, but surely the common impression is that museums mainly exist to exhibit cool stuff and educate/entertain the public. Yet, furthermore, I bet that many members of the public don’t really understand the nature of museum collections (how and why they are curated and studied) or what those collections even look like. As a researcher who tends to do heavily specimen-oriented and often museum-based research, I thought I’d take the opportunity to describe my experience at one museum collection recently. This visit was fairly representative of what it’s like, as a scientist, to visit a museum with the purpose of using its collection for research, rather than mingling with the public to oggle the exhibits — although I did a little…
View original post 2,488 more words
Pat Cush is an artist, and, in this reporter’s opinion, a very good one. He also works as a volunteer at the Whanganui Regional Museum, labouring for the love of it alongside exhibition officer, Dale Hudson.
For this story, Pat chose an object put on display only recently; a rococo porcelain basket which was a bequest to the museum from the estate of the late Esther Constance Harris. As an aside, that dear lady was a much loved choir mistress at St Luke’s Church in Castlecliff for many years, giving this reporter’s very much younger self a good grounding in soprano vocals until the onset of hairy legs and mixed octaves.
The porcelain basket features typical aspects of the late baroque style with exuberant representations of shells, forget-me-nots and the ubiquitous cherub. According to the museum provenance, the piece comes out of a Coburg factory, dated late 19th century, in the style of the famously elaborate Dresden ornamental chinaware.
So why did Pat choose this object for this Vaults story? “Partly because I like it,” he says, “out of the new objects it’s my favourite.”
Pat’s interest in the porcelain basket is explained by some rather perverse reasoning … but it seems to make sense. “I think it’s a ridiculous art form and I like it because of that. It’s impractical and unnecessary, it’s absolutely camp … it’s madness … it’s a reaction to the austerity that came before it. It’s just the most bizarre thing to look at,” he says.
“I’m not looking at it as an historical artefact, I’m looking at it as an arty object … and look at it! There’s so much to see, you can’t get bored with it. It is aesthetically pleasing for me, not because it’s ridiculous and camp, but because it’s just interesting. Essentially it is a fun object and you can either like it or not like it,” says Pat.
They were considered ‘relics of paradise’ by those who enjoyed them more than a century ago.
Original article appeared in the Wanganui Midweek newspaper in May 2015. Reproduced her with permission of the publishers.