by Jeremy CliffeAt the back of the dinosaur-filled skeletal structure of the Natural History Museum on South Parks Road, a short flight of stairs leads down into one of Oxford’s hidden wonders: the Pitt Rivers Museum. A huge totem pole looms over this cavernous space, which, whilst only a little larger than the Sheldonian Theatre, houses over half a million anthropological treasures. Silhouettes of the atrium’s ironwork frame lead the eye upwards to a curved roof resembling the upturned hull of a wooden galleon; with the eerie lighting this makes for a haunting atmosphere. But it is the impression of clutter (in the very best sense of the word) that strikes the visitor most – imagine an antiques market, a shaman’s store cupboard and a magpie’s nest all rolled into one.
Founded in 1884 in accordance with the will of collector extraordinaire, General Augustus Pitt Rivers, this temple to bric-a-brac is almost impossible to pin down. It describes itself as a museum of ‘Anthropology and World Archaeology’, but the collections are far broader than is suggested by such a prosaic précis. A random selection of the objects encompassed includes snuff-taking equipment, Japanese theatrical masks, surgical instruments, astrological guides, zithers, tarot cards, and ballerina dolls made out of giant flies. This definition-defying multifariousness might explain why such a wondrous Aladdin’s cave is not better known amongst Oxonians. Where there is awareness of the Pitt Rivers, it is usually in the context of the museum’s high-profile and ethically-dubious display of shrunken human heads from the Upper Amazon.
Yet once the morbid impulse to headhunt has been duly satisfied, a visit offers many unexpected joys. The densely displayed collections comprise far too many exhibits for the visitor to be thorough about his or her browsing, and the material precludes any logically ordered perusal. This leaves one free to dart between show cases according to whim. The labels are hand-written in copperplate script on yellowing paper, with archaic geographical references – Rhodesia, Ceylon, Zululand – and delightful descriptions, such as this comment on a card next to the famous ‘witch in a bottle’: ‘Obtained about 1915 from an old lady living in a village near Hove, Sussex. She remarked “and they do say there be a witch in it and if you let it out there it be a peck o’ trouble.”’
But between now and 29th June 2008, visitors are in for an additional treat in the form of the splendid ‘Studio Cameroon’ exhibition. Stretching along a short corridor to the right of the museum’s entrance, this features a selection of the portraits taken in ‘Studio Photo Jacques’. Established by Jacques Touselle in the town of Mbouda in Cameroon’s Western Highlands in 1970, the studio’s output encompasses a wide range of formats, a fact reflected in the exhibition, which includes photos for ID cards, marriage certificates, photos of friends and family groups, light-hearted portraits of individuals and of fashions. Moving from photo to photo the viewer notes the recurring backdrops and props used in the studio, a mixture of traditional and modernity, and above all a firm sense of the individuality of the subjects. Indeed, the real joy of ‘Studio Cameroon’ is found in the sense of Touselle capturing not just a person, but a ‘moment’.. Even the most composed of the photos – those taken for official documents – are full of feeling; a woman leans toward her husband, her forehead touching his, a young man stares confrontationally at the camera while in the next photo along a woman in the same universal passport photo pose gazes mournfully at the lens, a fearful look in her eyes. The way these are presented in their full original size, pre-cropping, situates them firmly in their context. We see glimpses of prints on the studio wall, pieces of lighting equipment intrude into the edges of pictures and in one, a wizened elderly gentleman squints at the lens while the eyes and fingers of the photographer’s assistant holding up the backdrop protrude into the top of the frame.
‘Studio Photo Jacques’ becomes a window on provincial life in ‘70s and ‘80s Cameroon; a society urbanising, bureaucratising, and increasingly receptive to outside influences. Two young women in patterned gowns and headdresses proudly show off a handbag and cassette player, a boy with a mischievous grin balances a tray of cigarettes on his head, and a matriarch brandishes a large fly whip, a symbol of authority, with two gourds resting at her feet. One of the most charming portraits is that of a businessman dressed in a suit and carrying a walking stick. He could be waiting for a bus anywhere in the world were it not for the intricate pattern of beads that decorates the stick. The prop grounds him in the world outside the studio door. This is one of several portraits in which the lines and patterns of 1970s aesthetics are juxtaposed with the geometric designs of traditional artwork. Touselle works with subjects of all ages and classes, and his affection for the people of Mbouda is plain to see. Local costumes are set in arrangements and poses which heighten their timeless grace, and while a suave besuited gentleman gazes seriously into the distance, the painted lion on the backdrop behind him roars at the camera. The photos are a synthesis of artist and subject.
Indeed, for all of the eclectic delights of the museum, the photos represent a very distinct approach to the portrayal of world customs and peoples. Whereas the museum’s collections group specimens of human behaviour thematically, disconnected from origins from which some were separated under questionable circumstances (such as the ornamental skulls ‘found’ on a ledge outside a wooden house-front by the donor), the exhibition offers an intimate, complete portrayal of its subject, firmly bound to its context. A visit to these engaging examples of two very different formats of anthropological understanding is truly fascinating – the Pitt Rivers is a peck o’ joy, and offers much more than just shrunken heads.
