Curiosity CLXXV: A Paper Cabinet
by Michelle Matthews
The University of Cape Town was founded in 1829; by this time classification, the root of the disciplines as still taught at UCT today, was entrenched. The 'cabinet of curiosity' comes from an earlier time. In the 16th and 17th centuries, wealthy Europeans and the landed gentry kept cabinets, and sometimes small rooms, of objects that inspired wonder. These objects, both natural and man-made, were arranged aesthetically, to abstract patterns of order perceived by the collector.
In 'Curiosity CLXXV', the exhibition, the three curating printmakers gathered together objects from the dusty desks and backrooms of UCT, to celebrate 175 years of the institution. Many of these objects are banal (the curators describe them as the 'left-overs': worn blackboard dusters, moth-eaten taxidermies of common vermin, broken fuses) but in the way they have been carefully and lovingly arranged, they strike us again with wonder.
Some of them - the piece of calico in which the original manuscript of Olive Schreiner's Story of an African Farm was wrapped; the daily report for the first heart transplant patient Louis Washkansky; a photograph of US President Richard Nixon with Elvis Presley - are more apparent relics, firmly entwined in recorded historical threads. Most of the teaching aids displayed are in or on the brink of obsolescence, and like other objects that are 'authentic', they become 'valuable' (see Martin Hall's essay, p.147). This effect is heightened by placing the objects in cabinets, not to be touched.
Some of the objects, through their anachronistic design principles, acquire an aesthetic aura that was not initially intended. Some objects have always and always will be in essence manifestations of beauty or ingenuity. 'Curiosity CLXXV' serves less as a documentation of the history of the university, as of the history of its studies; the 'cabinet of curiosity' approach creates a pleasing feeling of consilience, or unity of knowledge, which is, unfortunately, not always apparent at the institution itself.
This book is intended as a 'paper cabinet'. It's framed by a timeline, albeit a non-chronological one (the authors check that you're paying attention with a tongue-in-cheek entry on p. 86: '2010: The university recognises the importance of visual literacy and art classes are made compulsory for all first-year students'), running along the bottom.
These 'collectors' have also made their patterns of organisation quite clear in the book, sorting their objects by associations with the Roman alphabet. They use both categorical (Document, Forensics, Kingdoms, Particularisation) and emotive/aesthetic (Astonishment, Luster, Wonder, Yearning) signifiers for their chapter headings.
The book does manage to evoke the curiosity cabinet, with each page throwing up an object or snippet of text that is fascinating, and pages often grouped, like the exhibition, by visual resonance. However, ultimately, the book, as a reproduction, cannot capture the true spirit of the exhibition, which is about, as Steven Watson wrote in his poem for 'Curiosity CLXXV', 'enter[ing] once again/ the great kingdom of things, principality of objects'.
About curiosity, Albert Einstein said: 'It's a miracle that [it] survives formal education.' This exhibition and book show that there could be no learning without it.
Michelle Matthews is a Cape Town-based publisher, journalist and critic
Additional details:
Curiosity CLXXV: A Paper Cabinet [Exhibition catalogue] Pippa Skotnes, Gwen van Embden, Fritha Langerman (eds) Cape Town: University of Cape Town, 2004
Softcover, 192pp
ISBN 0-620-33345-6
