Woolly: unplugged.

From the desk of Melaina Haas, Communications Coordinator at the Royal BC Museum.




Our beloved Royal BC Museum mammoth is kind of a big deal. Nicknamed “Woolly” by those who work here, this guy has been featured in numerous cartoon strips, books, research papers, online magazines and international newspapers.

Woolly: a fine-looking fellow.

Elephants have had a looong history on this planet – at various times over 55 million years, more than 500 different kinds have walked on this Earth. And aside from the tropical African Elephant and the Asian (or Indian) Elephant, all have since disappeared. The remains of four mammoths (extinct elephants that were somewhat adapted to colder climates) have been found in British Columbia: the Woolly Mammoth, the Columbia Mammoth, the Imperial Mammoth and the Mastodon. The Woolly Mammoth, more closely related to the Asian Elephant than the African elephant, first entered North America some 65,000 years ago.

A visitor favourite and permanent fixture of the Natural History gallery for decades, the first incarnation of our Woolly was a dream in the form of a small model.

Woolly was just a dream at this point...

For the first 30 years of his life, Woolly lived behind a wall of glass.

Don't tap the glass!

In May 2004, the mammoth-sized diorama had a major overhaul. The glass barrier was removed and fans were installed, simulating the chilly ice age winds.

Woolly: undercover.

A wall made of real ice and fibreglass casts of glaciated rocks were added, completing the ice age experience.

The ice wall takes shape

The revamp was a hit. And in December 2008, Woolly found his voice. A soundtrack of wind, elephant trumpets and ptarmigan chirps was installed. Take a listen for yourself.

Although the Woolly Mammoth went extinct some 10,000 years ago, our dear Woolly continues to delight thousands of visitors every year.
For more about mammoths, read this article by Royal BC Museum curator of archaeology.

A Sure Sign of Summer

From the desk of Kim Gough, Program Developer at the Royal BC Museum.













One thing I have always enjoyed about this time of year at the museum is when the summer students start working. They bring with them such new enthusiasm, energy and ideas that I find myself rejuvenated. Meet Kelli, Fritha and Emily, the newest temporary members of the Learning and Visitor Experience department at the Royal BC Museum.

Kelli, Fritha, Emily

When I asked them about a typical day at the museum, they replied “We don’t have typical days here!” Their jobs as the Camp Inside Out coordinators give them a lot of variety. They’ve spent many long, grueling hours searching for games and activities (and testing them) to make the camps the best they can be. They have been learning all sorts of neat facts about BC’s history and natural history and have had close encounters with Giant Squid and a live snake!

It's not a game - it is research!

The coordinators are now fully dedicated to the summer camps, but before that their extra hands were getting the Behind the Scenes exhibition open. They helped build the AmusEum (they literally assembled the furniture and the tents!) and continue to check in on it – occasionally getting distracted with the books, costumes and games. Some of their quirkier tasks have included: hiding a stuffed mouse in the mammal collection for visitors to find, collecting plants for making slides, and holding a bag of crickets while the frogs get fed. The fascinating people, objects and different opportunities at the museum, will hopefully make this a summer job they will learn from and remember fondly.

Emily reveals where she hid the mouse. Shhh, don't tell anyone.

Earlier this year I went to a museum conference and met a woman who was a summer student at a museum where I worked in 2007. I was thrilled to hear that she enjoyed her experience so much that she is now enrolled in a museum studies master’s program. What was your favourite summer job? Tell us about it.

Small miracles – all beginning with M

From the desk of Tim Willis, Director of Exhibitions and Visitor Experience at the Royal BC Museum.





You’ll be relieved to hear that I have recovered from my attack of Completion Anxiety. Our Behind the Scenes exhibition has opened to very positive reviews.

So I’d like to take a moment to celebrate three magnificent marvels of manufacture [and who said alliteration was a dying art?]. These minor miracles are the work of our Exhibition Arts team.

The Magnifier
I wrote about this in an earlier post. A brilliant idea – ingeniously conceived and then painstakingly engineered by Nigel Sinclair.


The Magnifying Glass
It began as a whim… wouldn’t it be cool if visitors could walk through a giant magnifying glass? Impossible, they said. Not to Colin Longpre who works comfortably at any scale.


The Mosquito
All mosquito specimens in our collection have pins through them, making them unusable for the mini-diorama section in Aliens Among Us. And so, Kate Kerr simply created a mosquito using the hairs of a paint brush and tiny strips from a plastic bag.

There are other creative miracles in Behind the Scenes, but that’s enough “Ms” for today.

Who Knew?

From the desk of Ann ten Cate, Reference Archivist at the Royal BC Museum.








I'm filing this entry under the heading of "Who Knew"? I often find myself thinking this while examining some of our archival records, and I had the same reaction when I opened an email from Angie Thomas. Angie works for the Museum of the Mountain Man, (MMM) in Pinedale, Wyoming - an institution which is dedicated to presenting the history of the Mountain Man and the Western fur trade.

I wasn't quite sure what a Mountain Man was, but thanks to Angie, one of the museum's associated historians Jim Hardee, and Wikipedia I now understand a little more about their significance in the early fur trade history of the Rockies. If you call someone a "Mountain Man" because they are grizzled, weather-beaten and perhaps a little rank, you are not too far off the mark.

The Mountain Men were traders, trappers and explorers, many of whom worked independently of the big fur trade companies such as the Hudson's Bay Company (HBC) and the North West Company. They lived a rugged life in and around the Rocky Mountains, trading with the local First Nations, and the fur companies, primarily between 1810 and 1840. For a romantic view of the life of one of the later Mountain Men, you could watch the film Jeremiah Johnson, starring Robert Redford. (While Jeremiah is a fictional character, some of the events of the film are based on the life of a real-life Mountain man - John "Liver-Eating" Johnston.)

Back to fur trade history. Once a year American traders, trappers and First Nations gathered at a giant trade fair, known as a "Rendezvous,” at a pre-arranged spot, often in the territory of the Snake Indians near Green River in Wyoming. The painting below is a record of the 1837 Rendezvous by Alfred Jacob Miller.


"But," you ask, "What is the connection to B.C. history?" The answer lies in the ambitions of the Hudson’s Bay Company, which wanted to extend its interests even further south and east in the vast Oregon Country. (Keep in mind that the border between Canada and the U.S. in the West wasn't settled until 1846. In the 1830s, the area west of the continental divide was jointly occupied by British and American traders).

The MMM came calling because they were about to publish an article by Scott Walker about an American Mountain Man named Warren Ferris, and his role as an agent of the HBC. One of the key documents relating to Ferris is held here at the B.C. Archives and they needed a digital copy.

Archibald McDonald, ca. 1850, A-01502

In 1834, HBC Chief Trader Archibald McDonald wrote in his letterbook that Ferris, and his partner Nicholas Montour (an HBC employee) were authorized to take “an assortment of trading goods, and a certain number of asses, to transport the said property at their own risk and charge to Henry's Forks, Great Salt Lake, Green River or any other part of the Snake Country....when [they] ...deem it in their interest to go in search of Beaver, either from Freemen [independent trappers] or Indians."

Chief Trader Archibald McDonald’s letterbook (A/B/20/72M)

Ferris was chosen because he was considered a skilled trader, was an American by birth, and had formerly worked for the American Fur Company. The aims of the HBC were relatively simple: make as much profit on trade goods as possible, undercut the American fur trade companies, and strip the area of fur before the joint occupancy of the territory ended and their economic empire shrank. There’s no proof that Ferris made it to the 1834 Rendezvous, but he did work his way further south during the winter, trading as he went.

More "Who Knew?" moments came when I looked at the table of trade goods that were supplied to Ferris and Montour by the HBC. The original document is in Winnipeg at the HBC Archives, but Walker carefully transcribed it as an appendix to his article, with notes. The goods are a fascinating combination of practical supplies, small luxuries, and items designed specifically for trade with the First Nations population. The two traders headed south with almost a ton of goods, from beads and blankets to 210 pounds of tobacco and 45 gallons of whiskey. For their own bookkeeping, the list itemizes two quires of paper, a memo book, one (!) pencil and one penknife.

Ferris’s tour of duty as an HBC agent ended the next summer when he had to return home to New York State to sort out urgent family matters. He never returned to the Rocky Mountains. The HBC continued attempts to “infiltrate” the American Rendezvous system, but were forced to pull back their trading operations after the international boundary line was set at the 49th parallel in 1846.

It was a pleasure to be able to help the Museum of the Mountain Man with their research, and if I’m ever near Pinedale, Wyoming I’ll be stopping in to find out more. For those who can't get to Wyoming, here's a good source of information: http://www.thefurtrapper.com/rendezvous.htm

Book Talk

From the desk of Melaina Haas, Communications Coordinator at the Royal BC Museum.




In 1891, his first year as curator of the newly founded Provincial Museum, John Fannin published a Check List of British Columbia Birds. Since then, our museum has produced thousands of books, papers, pamphlets and other documents about its collections, research and activities. This week, I sat down to chat with Royal BC Museum publisher Gerry Truscott…

Melaina Haas: Tell it to me straight – what’s the history of the Royal BC Museum publishing department?

Gerry Truscott: It really started in 1942 with Clifford Carl, a former curator. He published the first handbook which was Fifty Edible Plants of British Columbia by G.A. Hardy. That was the first time the museum published for the general public.

The first Royal BC Museum book published
for the general public (25 cents? A steal!)

MH: And what does a museum publisher actually do?

GT: I guess you could divide it into three main categories. One would be working on books that we’re going to publish – right now I’m working on a book called Return to Northern BC, which is one of Frank Swannell’s photo journals. The second thing I do is what I call “routine work,” all those regular administrative things. And the third major thing I do is editing material for other departments – mostly exhibitions. For instance, I either rewrote or edited all the text for Behind the Scenes.

MH: How did you end up at the Royal BC Museum?

GT: I used to work for a small publishing company called Press Porcepic – I edited my first book in 1984. I did three work terms in a row there because they were desperate for students. Then I applied for the job at the museum – and got it. That was 1989… 21 years later and here I am!

MH: What kind of books do you publish? Are they all written by museum staff?

GT: We publish in three main areas: history; First Nations art and culture; and natural history. Oh and I guess there’s a fourth category: museum stuff. That is, exhibits-related books. When it comes to books, it’s about 50/50 [written by] museum staff and outsiders. I count research associates as staff.

MH: Are you a writer?

GT: Yes. I’ve written about six or seven short stories, a bunch of non-fiction articles and then the Free Spirit: Stories of You, Me and BC book.

Gerry with his Free Spirit book

MH: If you were a font, which one would you be?

GT: Definitely not Arial. If I was a font… I’d be Palatino.

MH: Ah, my favourite!

GT: Just because it’s elegant and functional.

MH: Like you?

GT: Yeah… And it’s a little bigger than it should be.

MH: What’s one word of advice you’d give to an aspiring publisher?

GT: Just really know what you’re getting into.

MH: Please channel your inner Emily Carr and express (in sketch-form) a “day in the life of a Royal BC Museum publisher.”

GT: A day in the life of a publisher?

MH: Yes. And you have less than one minute.

Sketch by Gerry: Why I Work With Words

MH: Do you have an afterword?

GT: I really enjoy my job. I get to be a bit of an expert on certain things for a little while… makes for good party conversations. It’s helped me out a lot in my own writing – and in my own personal life to some degree. It’s kept me active, mentally active.

MH: Thanks for talking to me today, Gerry.

For more information about the Royal BC Museum publishing department, visit us online.

Bridging the Gap

From the desk of Kim Gough, Program Developer at the Royal BC Museum.

Over 10 years ago, I started my first job at a museum as a “costumed interpreter” at a historic site. When I told my grandma about the job she replied, “I didn’t know you spoke another language.” In fact, I hadn’t heard the word “interpreter” referring to those knowledgeable and friendly folk I had encountered in museums before either. Interpreters, docents and gallery animators bridge the gap between a museums collection and its visitors. They make exhibition content relevant and accessible and, hopefully, make the visitor’s experience more memorable.

Two weeks ago, 20 new volunteers completed their training to become Behind the Scenes gallery interpreters at the Royal BC Museum. They are joining over 110 dedicated people who give their time (over 11,000 hours in 2009) to share BC’s story with our visitors. While I was preparing for the training I realized that there are some great opportunities that happen thanks to our volunteers:

• someone to show you how to pan for gold and encourage you to put your hands into the cold water;
• someone to point out the highlights of the museum and the artifacts that often get missed – like Captain Cook’s murder weapon;
• someone to take school-children into the gallery and help them learn about Simon Fraser, mammals, climate change, natural resources and life a century ago.

Royal BC Museum School Program Volunteers

Recently, the museum received an email from a visitor, Garth Von Buchholz, who had visited the museum’s feature exhibition, Treasures: The World’s Cultures from the British Museum. Because we had wonderful and experienced volunteers, the British Museum sent us some artifacts from their handling collection including a 4,000-year-old terracotta British/Romano oil lamp, like the one found here. Exclamations of “wow” were common. Mr Von Buchholz was so inspired by his experience that he wrote, and has since published, the following poem:

Terracotta Oil Lamp

Terracotta oil lamp, nearly two millennia balanced in the palm of my hand: An archaic flashlight for some Mesopotamian householder. Hands over centuries transferring it from one owner to the next,
And to think that in its newest state, a sleepy flame from its spout
Cast a glow upon a bed, a table, a wife’s face, a scroll or a book,
Illuminating the momentary life that burns faster than oil.

Have you been inspired by an interpreter or docent? Share your story on the blog.

Completion Anxiety

From the desk of Tim Willis, Director of Exhibitions and Visitor Experience at the Royal BC Museum.






Bring on the microscopic violins and tiny hankies. We are approaching the opening of a new exhibition (Behind the Scenes) and I’m finding it hard being an Exhibition Director. I mean, what can I do to help… other than utter words of encouragement? ‘Well, you could pick up a paint brush,’ I hear you say.

What I’m trying to say is that the final weeks before opening an exhibition are – for me – a mix of pleasure and pain. I have been known to wax lyrical about the glorious symphony that is the last movement before opening - when all the parts come together. But what I feel is tense.

I’ve been part of more than 80 exhibition projects and it never… ever… gets easier. There is always a moment as you tour someone through the exhibition under construction when you just know they are thinking ‘they’ll never get it open in time.’

It’s true that there is a real joy in seeing so many talented people – designer, model makers, fabricators, carpenters, technicians, painters, curators – working toward one objective. But progress is not linear. Progress is in waves and sometimes the tide recedes rather than moves forward. It seems to go something like this:

Stage 1: A Blank Canvas
The hall is empty except for a few forlorn display cases and some apparently discarded light fixtures. All is promise.
Feeling: anticipation – it’s going to be fun to see this come together. (Image below: The blank canvas.)

Stage 2: Construction Site
The exhibition hall is in chaos. Paper, carts, tools, pieces of display furniture. No form… just pieces.
Feeling: trepidation – OK, let’s be honest – fear.

Stage 3: Emergence
Out of the confusion emerges a glimpse of the original design vision. Some large graphics are installed. There is art amidst the chaos.
Feeling: confidence – a response to the waves of relief. Man, this is going to look great. Aren’t we brilliant?

Stage 4: Stasis
What’s going on… days have passed… or are they weeks? Everyone’s working – but nothing’s changing.
Feeling: worry.

Stage 5: Reverse Gear
Cases are dismantled to make changes, display lighting is turned off.
Feeling: return to fear. We’re never going to make it!

Stage 6: Hallelujah!
Display lighting is turned on; some cases are sealed; interpretive labels are even appearing.
Feeling: Salvation. We are going to make it… I knew we would. Aren’t we brilliant? (Image below: an exhibition emerges.)