“Nobody Likes A Radical Queer”
Queer Materials in Audiovisual Collections
Name Marin Rappard
Address Spreeuwenpark 109
1021GV Amsterdam
Phone number +31652213921
Email marinrappard@gmail.com
Programme Heritage Studies: Preservation and Presentation of the Moving Image
Student Number 10464425
Supervisor Manon Parry
Second Reader Eef Masson
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First and foremost, I want to thank my supervisor Manon Parry, for her guidance, comments, and patience throughout my thesis writing process. I also we gratitude to Lonneke van den Hoonaard and Jasper Wiedeman of IHLIA, Bas Agterberg of The National Institute of Sound and Vision, Mirella Gelauf of The City Archives of Amsterdam, and Paul de Jong of Jonge Historici, for sharing their time and insights about their organizations with me. Finally, a big thanks to my family and friends as well for their continued support and love.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
1. INTRODUCTION ... 4
1.1 Terminology ... 5
1.2 Literature Review ... 7
1.3 Methodology and Structure ... 13
2. THE NATIONAL INSTITUTE OF SOUND AND VISION (NIBG) ... 15
2.1 The Archive ... 15
2.2 The Catalogue ... 18
2.3 The Collection ... 19
2.4 The Museum and Current Exhibitions ... 25
3. THE INTERNATIONAL HOMO/LESBIAN INFORMATION ARCHIVE (IHLIA) ... 31
3.1 The Archive ... 31
3.2 The Catalogue ... 36
3.3 The Collection ... 38
3.4 The Exhibitions ... 42
4. THE AMSTERDAM CITY ARCHIVES (SAA) ... 45
4.1 The Archive ... 45
4.2 The Catalogue ... 48
4.3 The Collection ... 51
4.4 Exhibitions and Projects ... 53
5. CONCLUSION ... 59
1. INTRODUCTION
On April third of last year, two Dutch politicians marched across the Binnenhof while holding hands to display their solidarity after two gay men were brutally attacked in Arnhem the day before. Major global news providers like The Guardian, the BBC and the New York Times shared a video of this gesture, after which it went viral and was viewed and celebrated all around the world.1 This act of solidarity is just one example of the power of moving images and of how lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, intersexual and queer (shortened to LGBTIQ)-issues have entered the mainstream in the Netherlands. People who identify as LGBTIQ are increasingly represented in popular culture and local communities.2 Museums and archives are, in theory, reflections of the society they function in, meaning they should also be inclusive of these communities, but they are often unmasked as institutions that reiterate canonical thinking and patriarchal power relations.3 In museology, moving towards more inclusive models has long been a topic of study and action has been taken to include minority histories and voices.4 In March of 2015, the International Homo/Lesbian
Information Center and Archive (IHLIA), together with the Amsterdam museum and the Reinwardt Academy, organized a symposium called ‘Queering the Collections.’ As is noted on IHLIA’s website, “Queering the Collections (QtC) is a network of cultural professionals, researchers, and local government representatives, collaborating to increase the collection, interpretation, and exhibition of queer heritage and histories in the Netherlands.”5 The aim of
this symposium and ongoing project is to offer heritage professionals the tools with which they can research, describe and unlock queer aspects of the objects in their collections.6 I
fully support this goal, and in this thesis, I explore how the debates surrounding this subject
1 See Dan Bilefsky, “Dutch Men Hold Hands in Solidarity with Attacked Gay Couple,” New York Times, April
6, 2017, https://www.nytimes.com/2017/04/06/world/europe/dutch-men-hold-hands.html.https://www.nytimes. com/2017/04/06/world/europe/dutch-men-hold-hands.html; “Dutch Men Walk Hand in Hand for Solidarity After Gay Couple Attacked,” The Guardian, April 05, 2017, https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/apr/06/ dutch-men-hand-in-hand-solidarity-gay-couple-attacked.
2 Susan Ferentinos, Interpreting LGBT History at Museums and Historic Sites (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield,
2015); Ellen Schuurman, “Between Tolerance and Acceptance: Homosexuality on Television in the Netherlands, 1980-2013” (bachelor’s thesis, University of Amsterdam, 2014).
3 Joan M. Schwartz and Terry Cook, “Archives, Records, and Power: The Making of Modern Memory,”
Archival Science 2, no. 1-2 (2002): 1-19; Terry Cook, “Evidence, Memory, Identity and Community: Four
Shifting Archival Paradigms,” Archival Science 13, no. 2 (2012): 95-120.
4 Jocelyn Dodd and Richard Sandell, Including Museum: Perspectives on Museums, Galleries, and Social
Inclusion (Leicester: RCMG, 2001).
5 “Queering the Collections – Seksuele en genderdiversiteit in erfgoed,” IHLIA LGBT Heritage, accessed May
21, 2017, http://www.ihlia.nl/queering/.
6 “Queering the Collections – About,” IHLIA LGBT Heritage, accessed October 22, 2017, http://www.ihlia.nl/
can be applied to and used by archives harboring audiovisual collections to reflect critically on their practices and presentations of the past.
I argue that audiovisual material could offer a unique view of the history and present of non-normative sexuality and gender and showcase experiences that could create more inclusive presentations. Through in-depth analyses of how sexual and gender diversity is represented within the audiovisual collections, policies, and presentations of three prominent institutions in the Netherlands, I offer an overview of how these organizations fit into the recent upsurge in queering archives and museums.
1.1 Terminology
One of the main issues in discussing non-normative sexuality and gender is that of
terminology, which has changed considerably over time. The terms we now use, such as gay, lesbian, bisexual and queer, are relatively new in these meanings and will not address the true scope of material that might be available in an archive. As historian Claire Louise Hayward argues in her dissertation, this is especially true because users tend to search using modern terms.7 She uses ‘same-sex love’ instead of LGBTIQ, which “highlights both historical distance, and a historicalcontinuum. It shows that same-sex acts and behaviours have existed throughout history, but that the concept of a sexual identity, and a community group who share this identity, is a modern one.”8
In this thesis, I have also chosen to use same-sex love in recognition of this
variability. Additionally, I have decided to adopt the term queer, because it is an identity that encompasses a range of gender and sexual expressions. Furthermore, it cannot easily be categorized, acknowledges the fluidity of these identities, and provides a more politically charged connotation that is lacking in discussions of same-sex love in the Netherlands. Using ‘queer’ also produces an ability to deal with issues of intersectionality, as it is not only focused on disrupting established notions of gender and sexuality, but also on potentially encompassing race, ethnicity, class, and (dis) ability. The use of queer and same-sex love is also done to minimise the potential misidentification of people as lesbian, gay, bisexual or trans when they either did not identify themselves with those words or when they lived in a
7 Claire Louise Hayward, “Representations of Same-sex Love in Public History” (Ph.D. diss., Kingston
University, 2015), 10-11.
time where these categories did not yet exist. When LGBT(IQ) or homosexuality is used, I do this to reflect the terminology used by the institutions that are analysed in this thesis.
Using ‘same-sex love’ and ‘queer’ is also an attempt to avoid implying a single, shared experience. As noted by public historian Susan Ferentinos, the LGBT acronym “uneasily lumps together specific concepts, political agendas, and social experiences of distinct groups”, especially as lesbian, gay and bisexual refers to an individuals’ sexual orientation, while transgender is an expression of gender identity.9 The acronym also relates to the problem of using the term ‘community’ to describe these various groups, namely that, in her words,
these four distinct groups of people have not always understood themselves to be part of one community - nor do they necessarily agree with that premise now. In addition, these terms are often employed as a gesture at inclusivity to bisexual and transgender people, when in reality the
“community” is assumed to be gay or lesbian, and the inclusion of others is in name only.10
The concept of community is contested but can be useful to describe certain groups that share a specific experience, in this case, their “shared sexual or gender identities and their
exclusion from other communities.”11 To acknowledge the diversity within these groups, I always use communities when referring to these shared experiences, and stress that people can belong to multiple communities or explore how some are excluded even from these specific groupings. Doing this is also to be reflexive of how, even within the same category, experiences are multitude or even competing.
Additionally, ‘queering’ is used as a verb. In this context, queering means
acknowledging diverse sexual and gender identities in collections. According to Lonneke van den Hoonaard, director of IHLIA, the invisibility of queer aspects of specific collections takes place on three levels. First, heritage institutions lack policies that improve inclusivity and diversity in their collections. Second, even when objects of importance are identified, they are not on display. Third, there is a lack of access to queer aspects of holdings in the catalogue, due to their archivists and curators lacking knowledge on the subject.12 Though staff at archives, museums and other institutions presenting heritage are not thought to be
9 Ferentinos, Interpreting LGBT History at Museums and Historic Sites, 6. 10 Ibid, 5-6.
11 Hayward, “Representations of Same-sex Love in Public History,” 20.
12 Lonneke van den Hoonaard, “Queering the Collections: Seksuele en genderdiversiteit in erfgoed,” Vakblad
unwilling, actively integrating histories of same-sex love into their descriptions or exhibitions is usually left off the table because they do not see how it is relevant or their responsibility to do so.13 Outside of academia, these institutions are often thought of as neutral repositories for the past, which results in a lack of understanding that how these organizations frame the past can have significant societal consequences, either by silencing some voices or by the
domination of others. The idea of the Netherlands as a highly tolerant and accepting country concerning these communities also harms the suggestion that their representation in these kinds of institutions is necessary.14
1.2 Literature Review
Scholars have shown that how the past is represented by museums and archives influences how individuals and communities view themselves, and in turn how others view them. Historian Gerda Lerner proved that exclusion from historical narratives, in particular, has negative consequences for individuals and groups.15 In many ways, heterosexuality and the binary gender division is still presented as the norm from which other gender and sexual identities differ, a concept known as heteronormativity, or they are absent from the discussion entirely. Additionally, when histories of same-sex love are presented, archival audiovisual footage is under-utilized, as I will show in this thesis.
To understand the audiovisual footage I am referring to, I will define what exactly qualifies as queer moving image materials. Curator Lynn Kirste identifies three kinds, namely that they are queer because of their content, because queer filmmakers made them or because audiences read them as queer. It was crucial to expand my research beyond queer cinema, to include a diverse range of queer moving images, since one of the leading
challenges of archiving queer moving images is that they are most prominently independent and amateur productions, especially before the 1980s when independent queer filmmaking surged.16 Even before this, Kirste notes, queer people “shot and appeared in home movies and home videos, documented the activities of queer organizations, and filmed queer events.”17 As a result, Kirste argues that queer films and tapes are too scattered; amateur and
13 Lonneke van den Hoonaard (director of IHLIA) in discussion with the author, May 2017.
14 Gloria Wekker, White Innocence: Paradoxes of Colonialism and Race (Durham: Duke University Press
Books, 2016), 108-138.
15 Gerda Lerner, “Why History Matters,” in Why History Matters (Oxford/New York: Oxford University Press,
1997), 199-211.
16 Lynne Kirste, “Collective Effort: Archiving LGBT Moving Images,” Cinema Journal 46, no. 3 (2007): 134. 17 Ibid.
independent productions remain in the homes of their makers and are therefore likely to be stored in less than ideal conditions, and not in archives. Having been marginalized by
mainstream cinema and television, the majority of moving images with a queer point of view, that “portray LGBT people as complex individuals rather than stereotypes, offer a diversity of race, age, ethnic background, politics, gender identification, and other qualities, and show LGBT people in the context of our relationships, families, and communities” are to be found on these films and tapes.18 Amateur and independent productions are usually not widely distributed, either, so typically there are only a few elements of each title.19
Ensuring their safekeeping is therefore of great importance for these communities. However, audiovisual archives and organizations seem to lack attention to these kinds of productions. For one, as audiovisual archivist and scholar Nina Rao observed, the
International Federation of Film Archives’ (FIAF) Code of Ethics reflect the times in which they were written, meaning they lack a concern with a range of these nontheatrical moving images - specifically with “documentary film, amateur film, and home movies,” even though these “frequently have significant historical, cultural, or educational value, serving as a focus of discourse that enhances our collective understanding of individual, familial, and national historical circumstances.”20 This might be one reason why queer moving images are
underrepresented in moving image archives.
However, amateur and independent productions are not to be approached uncritically. As Rao argues, “they may be problematic with regard to the rights of the individuals
represented.”21 The notion of consent, for example, is problematic since the power relations
that inform this consent might mean there is a power imbalance between the filmmaker and filmed. Rao links this to films of indigenous peoples specifically, but her ideas can be extended to include minority representation more generally. As she argues, even if the filmmaker and filmed are from the same culture or even the same family, for example in a home movie, power is still
skewed by virtue of the fact that one person is holding the camera and one person is not- the holder decides what is recorded, when, and how. The camera also has power itself, often compelling and eliciting culturally conditioned
18 Kirste, “Collective Effort: Archiving LGBT Moving Images,” 134. 19 Ibid.
20 Nina Rao, “Representation and Ethics in Moving Image Archives,” The Moving Image 10, no. 2 (2010): 105. 21 Ibid., 106.
responses, such as smiling, from its subjects, regardless of their relationship to the operator.22
However, audiovisual archivist Snowden Becker reinforces their significance as well when he writes that “home movies have the ability to powerfully improve understanding and visibility for minorities whose histories may otherwise remain untold. The impact, for underrepresented groups especially . . . cannot be underestimated.”23 For these reasons, I explore in this thesis if and how they are collected and utilized in the diverse institutions discussed.
Some might ask why such reflection would be necessary for a country like the
Netherlands. The first to legalize gay marriage and globally known as a tolerant environment, it might seem like these issues are not urgent or even relevant to address here. However, it is this perceived tolerance that sociology scholar Jan Willem Duyvendak argues has
depoliticised queerness in the Netherlands. More specifically, he writes that the early
achievement of a “relatively favourable position” has meant that “homosexuals no longer feel the need to maintain a political gay identity.”24 Whereas in other parts of the Western world,
AIDS activism led to a radicalization of queer movements, this was avoided in the Netherlands, where “radical articulations of queer activism remain marginal” and
normalization of non-normative sexuality ensued instead.25 As Paul Mepschen, Duyvendak and Evelien H. Tonkens note, this “normalization does not imply that heterosexual
normativity has been surpassed. Rather, the popular representation of gay identity has changed from a deviant other to the mirror image of the ideal heterosexual.”26 This practice reflects what Lisa Duggan has named ‘the new homonormativity.’ She argues that
“homonormativity produces a politics that does not contest dominant heteronormative forms but upholds and sustains them.”27 Therefore, I argue in this thesis for a form of representation that underscores a range of experiences and identity expressions that are inclusive of the deviant nature of ‘the queer.’
22 Rao, “Representation and Ethics in Moving Image Archives,” 109.
23 Snowden Becker, “Family in a Can: Presenting and Preserving Home Movies in Museums,” The Moving
Image 1, no. 2 (2001): 100.
24 Jan Willem Duyvendak, “The Depoliticization of the Dutch Gay Identity, or Why Dutch Gays Aren’t Queer,”
in Queer Theory/Sociology, ed. Steven Sideman (Cambridge: Blackwell, 1996), 421.
25 Paul Mepschen, Jan Willem Duyvendak and Evelien H. Tonkens, “Sexual Politics, Orientalism and
Multicultural Citizenship in the Netherlands,” Sociology 44 (October 2010): 971.
26 Ibid.
27 Lisa Duggan, “The New Homonormativity: The Sexual Politics of Neoliberalism,” in Materialising
Democracy: Towards a Revitalized Cultural Politics, eds. R. Castronova and D.D. Nelson (Durham, NC: Duke
While it is true that gay men and lesbians have acquired rights and a sense of freedom unequaled by other parts of the world, this has not ensured their representation within
institutions, either, and the perceived acceptance can mask the need to do so. As is stated on the IHLIA website, the cultural sector of the Netherlands increasingly realizes the
marginalization or exclusion of same-sex histories in traditional curation. However, “stakeholders may still reject the importance of rethinking our policies and our practices,” and it is noted that “while some believe LGBTQI equality has already been achieved in Dutch society, homophobia persists. In fact, we are in the midst of a global backlash in which discrimination and violence on the basis of race, gender, and sexuality are in resurgence.”28 Stressing the importance of inclusivity within institutions presenting the past to the public to combat these issues remains a principal task.
In recent years, the topics of diversity and inclusion are increasingly discussed in relation to audiovisual archiving as well. The importance of further attention to these matters is noted by Rachel Mattson, manager of Special & Digital Projects in the Archives of La MaMa Experimental Theatre Club, when she argues that the takeaway from two considerable audiovisual archiving symposia was that “there’s no place in our work for the pretense of neutral professionalism. We need to articulate and deploy professional standards and models that place care-giving, justice-seeking, and community-oriented frameworks at the center of our practice.”29
However, there exists a gap between academic debates on audiovisual archiving and what happens in practice.30 While audiovisual archivists are clearly aware of their role as part
of memory institutions, as is evident in documents like audiovisual archivist Ray Edmonson’s “Audiovisual Archiving: Philosophy and Principles,” the focus of their practices seem more technological.31 According to Edmonson, this is because concerns for the physical
characteristics of audiovisual collections are vastly different and require much more attention and knowledge than, for example, paper collections. Specifically, “while in many institutions preservation is conceived as an ‘added extra’ to the functioning of the organization, it is
28 “‘The Art of Queering’ 16 June – About the Symposium,” IHLIA LGBT Heritage, accessed May 1, 2017,
http://www.ihlia.nl/symposium-16-june-about/.
29 Rachel Mattson, “Can We Center an Ethics of Care in Audiovisual Archival Practice?,” XFR Collective,
December 06, 2016, https://xfrcollective.wordpress.com/2016/12/02/can-we-center-an-ethic-of-care-in-audiovisual-archival-practice/.
30 “(…) there is insufficient dialogue between film archives and academia. Caught up in everyday practicalities,
film archivists rarely have time to reflect on the nature of film and on the consequences deriving from new technologies on the viability of film as a medium”, in Giovanna Fossati, From Grain to Pixel: The Archival Life
of Film in Transition (Amsterdam: Amsterdam university press, 2009), 15.
31 Ray Edmonson, Audiovisual Archiving: Philosophy and Principles (Paris, UNESCO; Bangkok, UNESCO
conceptually central to the functioning of an audiovisual archive,” and this centrality “leads naturally to a related characteristic: the technological mindset of audiovisual archivists.”32
Although I understand the different levels of urgency surrounding these specific material issues and will therefore briefly touch on how the collections are preserved, I try to bridge the gap between theory and practice by contributing to an understanding of the discussed collections that is based in existing policies and practices, yet culturally situates them. Especially since audiovisual archiving is still developing as a field, implementing inclusive policies on which to build now is of great importance.
There are several reasons, other than the technical, as to why queer life is underrepresented in archives and museum. Ferentino identifies “four issues that have significantly contributed to this circumstance: cataloguing issues; questions of what makes an object queer; the sexual content of some objects; and the need for trust building.”33 Curator Lynn Kirste adds another, namely that titles that are very significant to queer communities may not hold this
significance outside of these communities, so they are unlikely to be preservation priorities. The institutional type in which the materials are embedded affects the way these issues become clear. Archives that preserve and present queer moving image materials can roughly be divided into three institutional types. First, there are dedicated LGBTIQ-archives that collect all kinds of material and carriers, from paper to film, that focus on all aspects of LGBTIQ life. Second, there are non-LGBTIQ mixed media archives, such as municipal, regional, national or company archives that also have this varied array of carriers, but where finding material of queer importance is more difficult since it is not their primary focus or concern. Lastly, moving image archives are dedicated to audiovisual carriers, but may also lack this awareness. A more in-depth exploration of the differences, both positive and negative, between the different institutional types that hold queer audiovisual material is explored in each corresponding case-study chapter.
Most of these issues also come to light in and relate to issues of access. How we encounter instances of same-sex love in these collections and presentations is therefore also central to every case study.
Providing the right information at points of access, for example, is indispensable. As audiovisual archivist Nina Rao argues,
32 Edmonson, Audiovisual Archiving: Philosophy and Principles, 44.
moving images are so influential in constructing public discourse, the archive has an ethical responsibility to inform any viewing audience of relevant context and to encourage an understanding of the peoples and cultures depicted as well as a responsibility to make policy decisions that encourage cultural awareness.34
The polysemic nature of moving images, or the ability to have multiple meanings, also needs to be considered in these scenarios. In gay or lesbian studies this might mean that a particular film is read as queer, even when the queer undertones might not be apparent at first sight. With regards to programming, this suggests that the audience should be informed of the possibility of these readings. Liz Czach further argues that programming is an important practice to pay attention to because decisions are based on taste, which has political
dimensions and consequences, especially when it involves moving image materials of or by underrepresented groups of people.35 Mark Haslam, founder and director of the Planet in Focus Environmental Film and Video Festival, affirms that doing so entails that curators and programmers treat media artworks as tools, not just as products. Instead of merely screening a film, encouraging engagement that calls to action even after the screening is over, for example through introductions that contextualize and situate the film, can turn the screening into a tool for social evolution.36
Trust building might prove an important strategy to combat issues of access. For example, Edmondson stresses that audiovisual archivists have a “cultural and moral responsibility towards indigenous peoples” and “that collection material is handled and access given in ways that are compatible with the norms of their cultures.”37 In museology, codes of ethics usually stipulate that curators should work closely with those from whom the materials originate or whom they represent, since they “reflect the cultural and natural
heritage of the communities from which they have been derived.”38 In the words of Rao, they may, therefore, “have a character beyond that of ordinary property which may include strong affinities with national, regional, local, ethnic, religious, or political identity. It is important therefore that museum policy is responsive to this possibility.”39 The involvement of the
communities that are being represented has gained increasing attention in museology, but
34 Rao, “Representation and Ethics in Moving Image Archives,” 117.
35 Liz Czach, “Film Festivals, Programming, and the Building of a National Cinema,” The Moving Image 4, no.
1 (Spring 2004): 76-88.
36 Mark Haslam, “Vision, Authority, Context: Cornerstones of Curation and Programming,” The Moving Image
4, no. 1 (Spring 2004): 48-59.
37 Ray Edmondson, The Philosophy of Audiovisual Archiving (Paris: UNESCO, 1998), 46. 38 Ibid.
seems to be less discussed in relation to audiovisual archives.I consider how these issues are dealt with in the policies and practices of the institutions explored in each case-study chapter.
1.3 Methodology and Structure
In this thesis, I make use of studies from a range of academic fields, exploring debates within museum and archive studies, cultural theory, and queer/feminist theory to analyse the three case studies. Especially the latter two can be of great importance in examining the products of institutions dealing with queer objects and histories. As museologist Amy Levin argues,
feminist theory and its cousin, queer theory, are particularly valuable to museum practitioners because they offer frameworks for critical reflection on exhibitions and these are sufficiently flexible and capacious to be applicable to other forms of diversity. At their best, both kinds of theory acknowledge and incorporate cultural variations.40
To provide a broad overview of the audiovisual materials that are available in Dutch archives, I chose to analyze one archive that corresponds to each institutional type I have described previously. This means the audiovisual collections I examined were each stored in different organizational structures, namely within a national audiovisual archive, a paper-based municipal archive, and a dedicated LGBTIQ archive. These differences in reference points and contexts affect the way the audiovisual and queer aspects are embedded and presented to the public. The examination of these differences is a central theme of this thesis. The analyses took place through interactions with the institutions in the form of interviews and working with their catalogues and other access points such as their exhibitions and online web portals.
I begin with an exploration of The Netherlands Institute for Sound and Vision (NIBG), which is the Dutch national audiovisual archive and museum. The archive is partly funded by the government and works closely with public broadcasters, who need their broadcasted materials almost instantly for re-use, which means providing access is one of their primary tasks. They have many materials that relate to queer communities, but they do not actively collect, preserve or present content that fits this description. I was able to work closely with their catalogue and stream many of the clips that related to same-sex love. As was mirrored in the sentiments of the institutions’ media history specialist Bas Agterberg, the
40 Amy K. Levin, Gender, Sexuality, and Museums: A Routledge Reader (Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon: 2010),
material can be used to depict the history of representations of same-sex love in the media, more so than provide personal accounts of queer experiences. As is clear from the collection policy, minority representation is not on the agenda in this archive, as they do not cater to any group specifically, except the ‘general public.’ In this thesis, I attempt to dismantle the
assumption that this is suitable for all users, as it provides dominant views that support heteronormativity.
The third chapter focusses on the International Homo/Lesbian Information-center and Archive, shortened to IHLIA. This is an organization based in Amsterdam, focused on acquiring and making available information surrounding LGBTIQ communities. The remnants of multiple independent archives are still found in these archives, which form the most powerful representations of queer experience in the audiovisual collection. It is an archive dedicated to LGBTIQ material, but not to moving images, so it is of interest to explore how paper and audiovisual materials are interwoven, and the role that the moving image gets to play in their presentations. Interestingly, amateur and or independent films are much less available then would be expected from a community-based archive. If audiovisual material is utilized, it is often in the form of oral history projects, so the implications of these ways of representing the queer past is an essential part of this chapter.
In the fourth chapter, I move on to the City Archives of Amsterdam (SAA), a
municipal archive that harbors many governmental and local archives, has a large variety of carriers, and where inclusive policy is actively encouraged. While some scholars argue that the emotional aspects of queer archival material are missing or suppressed in these types of organizations, the SAA’s inclusion of personal archives challenges these ideas. While
audiovisual materials are under-utilized in representations of same-sex love, the organization has many ongoing projects to encourage trust-building with queer communities, such as a dedicated exhibition during EuroPride and a seat on the Queering the Collections board. Here, it is the organizational structure that most problematizes the use of these materials, which is, therefore, a key theme of this chapter.
In the final, concluding chapter, I summarize and compare my most important observations of the previous case-study chapters. Based on these observations, I list several recommendations on how to use audiovisual imagery in representations of queer people and lives, and offer a view of the future of queer audiovisual archiving.
2. THE NATIONAL INSTITUTE OF SOUND AND VISION (NIBG) 2.1 The Archive
Het Nationaal Instituut van Beeld en Geluid (The National Institute of Sound and Vision), is the de facto Dutch National archive for all television, radio, and recently also printed press material.41 NIBG is one of the most extensive audiovisual archives in Europe, and their holdings make up over 800,000 hours of film, video, and sound. The institute is the result of a decision made by the Cabinet in 1995 that one national archive was needed that would be responsible for preserving and providing access to Dutch audiovisual heritage. Thus, a merger took place “wherein the public broadcasting radio, music and television collections, the Amsterdam based Stichting Film en Wetenschap collection, the film archive of the Rijksvoorlichtingsdienst and the Broadcasting Museum were combined.”42
The connection to public broadcasting companies is close enough to identify NIBG as a ‘production archive.’ Since 2006 they have ingested all broadcasts from public television and making their material available to these companies is one of their primary tasks. For this reason, quick access is a key objective, which means materials are quickly made available to the general public as well. Although their holdings include many different media, some paper, and equipment, most of the content thus stems from public broadcasts, both television and radio.
Using public broadcasts problematizes queering the collection, since instances of same-sex love have traditionally been marginalized in mainstream media, and is therefore likely to be reflected in the materials collected. In their profile, they mention that the focus lies on content that has importance on a national, historical and cultural level and that the institute plays a crucial role in “documenting and interpreting Dutch society and its history as
recorded in audiovisual media.”43 Since people who experience same-sex attraction, and are non-binary or transgender make up more than 10% of this society, they should be represented in this interpretation, but because of this marginalization, they are underrepresented instead.44
41 In May of 2017, the Press Museum (Persmuseum) fused with NIBG because the Raad voor Cultuur (Board of
Culture) no longer saw the need to finance a separate museum for printed press. This collection consists of newspapers, magazines, cartoons, and ads and is housed and managed by the International Institute of Social History (IISG) in Amsterdam.
42 Collection Policy Sound and Vision, ed. Mieke Lauwers, trans. Beth Delaney (Hilversum: Beeld en Geluid,
2013).
43 Ibid.
44 Research into the demographic statistics shows the difficulty of pinning down a specific number since there is
This underrepresentation may also be a result of the fact that the initiatives of the institute do not cater to specific communities. Four general groups of users are identified in the collection policy instead, namely “media professionals and the creative industry,
education and research, and the general public.”45 With regards to this lack of focus or seeking out material, media historian Bas Agterberg argues that NIBG is a passive collector of new materials, since they are rarely actively sought out. Donations are only accepted when these fit the collection policy NIBG enforces. It can, therefore, be concluded that collecting societally engaged media for interested communities is not on the agenda since collecting is done from a “historical perspective for research and re-use,” but they are open to accepting donations that feature these types of media.46
Examining the materials that reside within these archives introduces both positive and negative influences of harboring them within an archive that focuses on moving images. Kirste studied how queer audiovisual documents are stored and made available in different institutional types and found that there are several benefits to storing queer-related material in moving image archives, as opposed to archives that have mixed-media collections. For one, audiovisual archives usually have substantial holdings in which gender and sexual diversity are visible or discussed, whether their staff is aware of this or not.47 Second, they are more likely to have high-quality storage systems and equipment for viewing and repairing material, since moving images are their primary focus and other media are not competing for attention and finances. This focus on the audiovisual also results in the employment of a well-trained staff that knows how to handle these materials. Lastly, she observes a general emphasis on providing public access in moving image archives. The latter is especially true for NIBG since their holdings need to be accessible to the public television industry almost instantly. Furthermore, the institute is a prominent player in the cultural field in implementing
audiovisual preservations standards, so these collections are preserved very well. This archive also has the means to systematically digitize their materials, although they were most likely chosen for other reasons than their queer content.
However, Kirste also identifies several issues that play a problematic role in keeping queer materials at moving image archives. For example, while related content might be
but 18% of women report being sexually attracted to the same sex, while 13% of men feel this way. About 1 in 250 people identify as transgender; See Keuzenkamp, Kooiman, and Lisdonk, Niet te ver uit de kast:
Ervaringen van homo- en biseksuelen in Nederland (Den Haag: Sociaal en Cultureel Planbureau, 2012), 11.
45 Collection Policy Sound and Vision, 42.
46 Bas Agterberg (Media History Expert at Institute for Sound and Vision) in discussion with the author, March
2017.
collected, this is usually not done with the goal to acquire materials that feature same-sex love or desire. Instead, they fall within collecting policies due to being documentaries or films of regional importance. As a national archive that focusses on television and radio, NIBG mostly has items from main-stream television in which same-sex love is a topic of discussion, as well as fictional series with queer characters, and interviews with
self-identified gay or lesbian public figures. Additionally, moving images archives are typically not dedicated to queer issues, as is the case at NIBG, so the staff is not as knowledgeable on the issues and history of queer life as the staff at an LGBTIQ archive is. The lack of pre-existing knowledge affects both the quality of descriptions of queer items in the catalogue as well as decisions in prioritizing some materials over others. Questions of priority are rampant at audiovisual institutions, but since “many queer titles that are extremely significant to LGBT community are barely known outside this community (…) these productions are not likely to be preservation priorities.”48 This lack of knowledge and focus might, therefore, hinder the safekeeping of and access to these materials.
Descriptive cataloging, in particular, is necessary to make queer holdings easy to find. Instances of same-sex love and desire are often not explicitly noted on, and unless these occurrences are tagged or described accordingly, discovering them in large databases is close to impossible. Identifying same-sex love and desire and including these in descriptions opens up the material for research into queer audiovisual materials. However, as Kirste argues,
detailed cataloging is time-consuming; determining appropriate subject headings, especially for obscure materials, can mean hours of viewing time and bring up questions about subjectivity, appropriate terminology,
filmmakers’ self-identities, and other cataloging concerns. Since almost all moving image archives have backlogs and ongoing data cleanup projects, descriptive cataloging of materials relating to marginalised groups is frequently left off their agendas.49
The latter is partly accurate for NIBG, as it is an archive where one general public is presumed.50
Nevertheless, archivists at NIBG have implemented several strategies for in-depth descriptions. For example, some descriptions are done with the help of automated voice-recognition software, which turns speech into text and allows description down to time codes. This process provides a lot of metadata, but also means that only explicit mentions
48 Kirste, “Collective Effort: Archiving LGBT Moving Images,” 137. 49 Ibid.
of sexuality and gender are identified and described accordingly. The lack of identification of instances of same-sex love and desire results in researchers having to search for specific films or filmmakers, even though only a few people may have knowledge of related items. Especially student films, amateur documentation or home movies will be hard to find this way, even though these are precisely the productions of interest.
The keyword system that NIBG uses works to partly correct this issue. The archivists that describe the materials have tied at least a part of NIBG’s holdings (it is unclear how much) to keywords that corroborate to specific themes or phenomena, and ‘homoseksualiteit’ (homosexuality) is one of these keywords. It only partly corrects this issue, though, since I have found that not all related material is tagged under ‘homoseksualiteit.’ In the following paragraph, I will provide further description and evaluation of how these keywords are implemented into the catalogue.
2.2 The Catalogue
The general public, researchers, and broadcasters usually access an archive through a catalogue or descriptive system. The workings and affordances of such systems influence what archival material is found and how easy or difficult it is to do so. It is, therefore, useful to introduce and reflect on the systems the archives discussed in this thesis use.
I accessed the holdings of NIBG through the iMMix cataloguing system, which functions through a web portal and is accessible inside the building. Subsequently, this is how broadcasters, researchers and other stakeholders access NIBG’s collection. The catalogue holds a total of 5.868.648 individual items and broadcasts. Finding an item or transmission can be done through typing a title or description into a search field, which gives viewable options for all digitized materials, and text-descriptions for those that are not in the digital archive yet. Users can search generally, and further narrow the search to specific broadcasters, genres, decades or predetermined keywords.
The keywords work to divide the collection according to themes, which significantly benefits accessibility to queer content. At least some of the clips relating to queer issues are tied to the keyword ‘homoseksualiteit’ (homosexuality), meaning these items have explicitly been tagged as relating to same-sex love or desire. There are also keywords for
‘homoseksuelen’ (homosexuals), ‘homo’s’ and ‘lesbiennes’ (lesbians), but these garner significantly fewer results.
not strictly tied to the government.51 Although the government partially funds NIBG, they are
not considered a government-run archive, which means they have more freedom regarding the tagging of their material as queer than a municipal archive has, where strict rules apply due to laws for the protection of privacy.52 In the collection, this is visible in the fact that it is quite easy to access at least part of their LGBTIQ-related material through the tags.
It is also an example of how policies or primary objectives of the archive influence descriptions and protocols. Other results of these policies and objects are a comprehensive indexing of the materials in the form of textual descriptions, due to NIBG’s focus on access. A decent amount of items is even described down to time codes with the help of the
automated-voice system, which saves a lot of time searching for the specific parts of a broadcast in which same-sex love or desire is only a minor part and simplifies the research. This searching based on keywords is not possible through their usual web portal though, and can only be accessed within the building, limiting general access. There are two other issues with the tags, the first one being that ‘homosexuality’ might now be deemed an offensive term and that not all material in which same-sex love or desire is visible is specifically tagged as such. For example, the staff of IHLIA, dedicated to LGBTIQ representation, has noted that they have knowledge of material that is of importance to LGBTIQ communities that is hard to find in the catalogue of this non-dedicated archive.53 Further research on this issue and finding solutions are critical.
2.3 The Collection
Instances of same-sex love and desire are underrepresented in the items available at NIBG. Searching for keywords including ‘homoseksualiteit/homosexualiteit,’ ‘lesbienne(s),’ and ‘seksualiteit’ (sexuality) revealed 5225 items that explicitly deal with the topic in NIBG’s collection, which is about 0,09 % of all items available. The British National Archives provides a research guide with search terms such as tribade, sodomy, and perversion, since ‘homosexuality’ is relatively new, but searching for the Dutch translations of these delivered either none or useless results. The same was true for the Dutch terms mentioned in the
51 Lonneke van den Hoonaard (director of IHLIA) in discussion with the author, May 2017. 52 Ibid.; Paul de Jong (Jonge Historici) in discussion with the author, May 2017.
Queering the Collections guide, such as ‘Kwee,’ ‘Uranisme,’ or ‘Sodomie(t).’54 For these
reasons, I concentrated on the easy to find material, and extended my search from there into areas known for queer activity such as clips of scouting, prisons, boarding schools and
content made by or featuring queer public figures, but focused on material in which gender or sexual diversity was more explicit.55 I explored the results by decade, identifying overarching themes and tendencies in the representation of same-sex love and queer expressions.
Explicit mentions of homosexuality start to appear on television in the 1960s, although only marginally; there are 24 fragments for this decade. It makes sense that this would be the starting point, as it was viewed as a perversion that needed to remain hidden before this time. This concealment is explicitly stated in many of the items from later decades. Numerous queer people comment on the fact that homosexuality existed and that they lived fulfilling lives, but that their sexuality was not something that could be discussed or was even
acknowledged outside of queer circles.56 This invisibility is also reflected in NIBG’s material by a lack of results before 1964. As a consequence, these kinds of mainstream archives give the idea that queer histories do not start until the second half of the twentieth century, even though this is not the case.57 Even in film, queer cinema can be traced all the way back to some of the first films. For example, the 1895 Edison short The Gay Brothers featured two men dancing, and was thought to subvert conventional male behavior.58
Dutch historians of sexuality link the beginning of visibility in the sixties to the fact that people started to see it as something other than just a means for reproduction. This new mindset opened up new understandings of sexuality since it was no longer something that would only be of use in marriages between men and women.59 Benno Premsela, the head of
54 Riemer Knoop and Lonneke van den Hoonaard, eds, Queering the Collections: Tips & tricks voor het nog
zichtbaarder maken van gender- & seksuele diversiteit in musea en collecties (Hardinxveld-Giessendam:
Tuijtel, 2016).
55 What these spaces have in common is that they were typically sex-segregated. Sexuality is questioned in these
kinds of cases because queer activity in these situations can also be ascribed to ‘situational sexual behavior,’ meaning heterosexuals are engaging in same-sex relationships because of the lack of alternatives. Since I am not specifically looking for a fixed queer experience, these instances of same-sex love or desire can still be relevant; Margeret Rosario, Eric Schrimshaw, Joyce Hunter, and Lisa Braun, “Sexual Identity Development Among Lesbian, Gay, and Bisexual Youths: Consistency and Change Over Time,” Journal of Sex Research 43, no. 1 (February 2006): 46–58.
56 Annemarie Mol and Peter van Lieshout, Ziek is het woord niet: Medicalisering, normalisering en de
veranderende taal van huisartsengeneeskunde en geestelijke gezondheidszorg, 1945-1985 (Amsterdam
University Press: Amsterdam, 2008).
57 Ferentinos, Interpreting LGBT History at Museums and Historic Sites, 3.
58 While there is little evidence that the film was intended to be read as queer, film historian Vito Russo has
argued that the clip is an early example of same-sex imagery in cinema because it exposes a same-sex intimacy that creates the possibility of the men being gay. See Vito Russo, The Celluloid Closet: Homosexuality in the
Movies (New York: HarperCollins, 1987).
LGBT-rights organization COC, marks the start of the fight for visibility in one of the first audiovisual fragments dealing with same-sex love and desire, broadcast in 1964.60 For the
first time, a self-identified gay man dared to be positive about his sexuality on television while recognizably showing his face. In the clip, he proclaims that gay people “think the time has come, although we have been ‘coming out’ for a long time, that we can come out even more (…) Homosexuals deserve their own spot, have a right to their own spot (in society).”61
However, a definite ambivalence towards homosexuality is still visible in these early stages. The people discussing homosexuality are often medical practitioners trying to explain the ‘disorder,’ even when they are arguing for acceptance of homosexuality. The play “Geen Gewone Jongen” (Not a regular boy), televised in 1965, exemplifies this stance.62 It shows a typical boy growing into adulthood, trying to detach himself from an overbearing mother. To his mother’s discontent, he starts to spend a lot of time with his language teacher, a new friend who helps him through this process. While the boy only implies his possible homosexuality, his language teacher comes out to him as gay in an undramatic fashion. Between acts, a psychologist provides commentary on the characters’ emotional states, as well as educative information on sexuality. She states that it is a mental disorder caused by specific circumstances, but that homosexuals are regular people that are not at fault for their sexual orientation. Thus, the ambivalence lies in the fact that, while the play portrays a gay man as an unproblematic, loving figure who can live a happy life, the commentary provided classifies him as disordered. In general, broadcasters present homosexuality as a problem that needs further study to provide answers and solutions.
In the late sixties and into the early seventies, the results of such studies are an
important theme among the 65 results for the decade, and these concluded that gay men and lesbians were having a hard a time participating in society and their working lives. Many clips deal with the formation of different advocacy groups interested in educating the public about homosexuality and the issues non-normative people were facing. In television, this meant the topic was most often a theme on current affairs programming and talk shows, where both queers and straights were given a platform to talk about (their issues with) sexuality. Throughout the sixties, seventies, and eighties, it is also repeatedly a theme in programs about taboos, current affairs or otherwise challenging topics.
60 COC stands for Cultuur en Ontspanningscentrum (Culture and Relaxation center), a vague description that
was used to cover up their real purpose of furthering LGBT-rights. The organization quickly became one of the leading forces in combatting inequality based on sexual orientation.
61 Achter Het Nieuws. VARA, December 12, 1964. The Institute of Sound and Vision.
62 Vrouwenprogramma (collective name given by the Institute of Sound and Vision). “Geen Gewone Jongen.”
Arguably for these reasons, normalizing gay and lesbian people by assimilating
homosexuality into the every day became a key strategy among activists and allies. However, queer voices are frequently featured in opposition to ‘normal’ people, reflecting a
heteronormative stance. Sometimes this opposition can be beneficial, for example when these ‘normal’ people express stereotypical positions, and queer people can publicly dispute these ideas. However, the opposite is often true, especially when the interviewer or presenter expresses heteronormative, problematic views. An example of this is an episode of Televizier Magazine, broadcasted in 1978. An interviewer asks Janis Hetherington, a lesbian mother, what she would think of her daughter being with a man, heavily implying heterosexuality would be an issue to her. Alternatively, this attitude is representative of a specific queer experience, namely Janis Hetherington’s, and she gives a strong statement on what it is like to be a queer parent at this time when she says; “I think lesbians and homosexuals make excellent parents. We care, you know. And it means a hell of a lot to care. A lot of people can bring up children and appear to care. We’ve got to care. We’ve got the rest of society against us; we need to.”63 The fact that ‘the rest of society is against us’ becomes clear from the discriminatory practices of both state and church that are on display in (news)items around this time. Towards the end of the decade the focus, therefore, shifts to protesters who acted in response to this discrimination.
News of increasing violence towards gay and lesbian people accompanies this increase in protests and carries on into the eighties. However, in 311 items, the focus shifts from these protests and fights for equality to the fight against AIDS, but not until the knowledge that heterosexuals can also get the disease becomes widespread. Non-traditional families and parenting by gay and lesbian people becomes an important topic as well, with a lot of items in which multiple parties evaluate whether or not they should even be allowed to be parents.
Seemingly in contradiction, multiple media sources start proclaiming a general acceptance of homosexuality in the Netherlands towards the end of the eighties. Documentary footage of self-identified gay public figures, in which they discuss their
sexuality, also starts to become more prevalent during this decade.64 Homosexuality becomes less of a current affairs issue, but the focus remains on issues nonetheless. For example, there are many items like Kijk haar (Look at her) and Amersfoort ongehoord (Amersfoort
unheard), both from the early eighties, in which teachers reveal that their employers fired
63 Televizier Magazine. Season 9, Episode 15. AVRO, January 21, 1978. Institute of Sound and Vision. 64 Hayward uses the concept of queeroes to describe these ‘LGBTIQ’ historical ‘heroes,’ “who are regularly,
and often uncritically, represented in public histories”; Hayward, “Representations of Same-Sex Love in Public History,” 11.
them because of their homosexuality.65 This representation of same-sex love as consistently
problematic for everyone involved is explicitly noted on by actor and comedian Paul Haenen during this time. He wrote a play to criticize television programs for doing this, noting that gay people only get a seat at the table to add a sense of current issues to programs. In his words, “gays on television are only invited when there is a lack of problems. In normal shows, even from the progressive broadcasters, they’re invisible.”66 He subverts this
experience by portraying a gay couple and their relationship as healthy and loving, while the heterosexual people in the play are all miserable.
In the early nineties, a definite increase in items that focus on famous gay men is visible. A sudden and temporary more sexualized view of homosexuality through a focus on gay and lesbian nightlife and in particular more promiscuous lifestyles is also noticeable, arguably in response to the image of gay men as especially promiscuous, that the media created during the AIDS epidemic. There seems to be a proliferation of representations of same-sex love and desire in general, since the number of material triples for this decade, with about 905 items in the collections for the 1990s. From the start, there are many celebratory accounts of a much-improved acceptance of homosexuality and the Netherlands is portrayed as a leading example of emancipation. Discrimination is still noted on, but often in relation to sports and religion, two areas where silencing or discriminatory practices remain strongest. The impact of the perceived tolerance is palpable in many items, including Deugd de Jeugd? (How is the youths’ virtue?) from 1992. In this particular program, an interviewer provides his views on Roze Maandag (Pink Monday). He starts off by asking a crossdresser why he feels the need to attend the event “dressed like ‘that’” and storms up to a protester,
aggressively questioning the man on why he feels the need to protest when “everything is already allowed and tolerated” in the Netherlands. 67 Paradoxically, the message that it is strange that “precisely this event” starts with a church-service shortly follows, making it clear that these kinds of religious settings do not accept homosexuality. This stance is also
reinforced in items like Hier en Nu Praatradio (Here and Now Talking Radio) in 1996, when the COC celebrated its 50th anniversary and one of the questions was whether the continued existence of such an institution was even necessary.68 The COC had been aiming for equal
65 Amersfoort Ongehoord. Directed by Rob de Vries. Gemeentearchief Rotterdam, June 26, 1982. Institute for
Sound and Vision; Kijk Haar. VARA, March 4, 1982. The Institute of Sound and Vision.
66 Charles Leeuwenkap and Bernard Neuheus. “Bemoeizucht/Ik laat mij niet belazeren.” Kwartslag. October 1,
1984.
67 Deugd de Jeugd?, “Afl. 3: Roze Zaterdag”, Episode 3, Directed by Willen Reiger, IKON, November 4, 1992.
Institute of Sound and Vision.
access to heterosexual rights, so it is a troubling question to pose when it would be another five years until their campaigns for legalizing gay marriage would achieve their goal.
Attention during this time also shifts to how gay men and lesbians are experiencing discrimination in other parts of the world, further bringing attention to an image of the Netherlands as especially progressive and liberal. In her BA thesis, Ellen Schuurman argues that homosexuality became more prominent in entertainment and commercial broadcasts as well in this decade. Examples include sitcom In De Vlaamsche Pot (In the Flemish Pan), which featured two gay male protagonists, and soap operas as Onderweg maar Morgen (Until Tomorrow) and Goede Tijden, Slechte Tijden (Good Times, Bad Times). Unfortunately, while enhancing visibility, these also reinforced certain stereotypes such as gay men as either ultra-feminine, flamboyant, and promiscuous or ashamed of their sexuality. Alternatively, programs often showed gay men and lesbians as void of sexual desire, to appease an overwhelmingly straight viewership and enforce a sense of ‘decency,’ even though sexual activity between unmarried heterosexual couples in television shows was not seen as an issue.69
What I have previously described as homonormativity is solidified through these representations because same-sex love and desire is only allowed to be present in fictional tv around this time when they do not challenge heteronormative standards. As communication scholars Frejes and Petrich reiterate, “mainstream television does not present gays and lesbians in the context of their own identity, desire, community, culture, history or concerts, but rather as woven into the dominant heterosexual metanarrative.”70 In spite of this insertion
into heterosexual frameworks, problems have not disappeared, and are mentioned especially in broadcasts with relation to the discrimination Islamic people face and how homosexuality is still of concern in education, for example in Christian schools, where teachers were still allowed to be fired based on their sexual orientation.
Items focusing on issues for gay men and lesbians continue in the 2000s, but the legalization of gay marriage and the first marriage of a gay couple being televised also solidified the image of the achievement of full acceptance of homosexuality in the
Netherlands, and many discussions around this time question the need for further activism. Exposing existing prejudice and the fact that tolerance is not the same as acceptance or celebration of difference becomes a dominant theme for LGBT-advocacy groups and
69 Schuurman, “Between Tolerance and Acceptance: Homosexuality on Television in the Netherlands,” 13. 70 Fred Fejes and Kevin Petrich, “Invisibility, Homophobia, and Heterosexism: Lesbians, Gays and the Media,”
activists, who are often met with resistance. The material from this point until the present day is very varied, and the remaining 2137 items range from thematic episodes on discrimination, and condemnation of homosexuality in Islam, in documentary and talk-shows, to news items about events such as Roze Maandag and Gay Pride, items on discriminatory practices that are met with protests or lawsuits, interviews with gay and lesbian public figures, and transgender people slowly starting to become less invisible. In more recent years, especially from 2016 onwards, representations of identities that do not fall into neat categories and dismantle binary ideas of sexuality and gender increase. These shows and documentaries bring new forms of gender-expression and fluid sexuality into the mainstream, such as in BNN
documentary Genderbende (Gendermess), in which people who do not identify as either man or woman discuss gender fluidity and dismantle the rigid distinctions we have developed as a society.71 I return to discuss the significance of these shifts in chapter 5.
2.4 The Museum and Current Exhibitions
NIBG is not just the national audiovisual archive, but also a museum of media (history), and as such features a permanent exhibition known as ‘The Experience.’ Although this attracts a broad audience, it is mostly geared towards children and their parents. Before walking
around, the visitor receives a ring and has to choose a presenter that serves as a tour guide for the exhibition. When doing this, you are asked to fill out your name, age, and gender, which only has binary male and female options. Sexuality and gender are explicitly mentioned in other parts of the experience, too. For instance, there is a small display on ‘how media
teaches us about sexuality,’ but unfortunately reinforces heteronormativity through a focus on ‘traditional’ family constructs with a mum and dad. This display also shows a video that is condescending towards having children outside of a relationship between men and women. In the clip, having children through insemination is discussed, and the words ‘men not included’ flash over the image. While not purposefully homophobic, choosing to display how media represents sexuality through clips like these, without contextualizing them, is in conflict with inclusive practices. This lack of historical context is also evident in the part of The
Experience that focuses on ‘media and power.’ In a segment that discusses different groups of activists, ‘the flamboyant gays of Amsterdam’ are casually mentioned and illustrated by images of men wearing leather on a Gay Pride float. While contextualizing the collection in
71 3DOC. “Genderbende”. BNN, May 30, 2017. Directed by Sophie Dros and produced by Olivia Sophie van
ways that display the power of representation in (queer) activism is commendable, relying on stereotypical language and images to do so is not ideal.
NIBG’s curators are working on a complete renewal of The Experience, which will focus more on news and news coverage to include the recent take-over of the printed press materials. Hopefully, this new experience will be more reflective of a broad range of identities and stories and provide historical context on how public broadcasts frame non-conforming identities. However, this is unlikely since this would only happen if the media did so too. Relying on alternative, queer media sources would enhance such presentations as it would allow them to show different narratives than those already mainstream. I would argue showing these alternatives is even necessary, because, as I have discussed in the introduction to this thesis, representation in museums and archives plays a role in
accelerating and improving social inclusion for minority groups and the individuals within these groups as well. In a country where the people have chosen ‘genderneutraal’
(genderneutral) as the most annoying word for 2017, in spite of how accepting the Netherlands is portrayed to be, the fight against hetero-and homonormativity remains a principal task.72
In 2017, the museum also presented two temporary exhibitions in which they provided varying views on their collection and media in general. In the following paragraphs, I will analyze how these were used by the institute to connect to the present and in what ways curators could have used them to queer the collection.
First, a small but fascinating exhibition entitled New Media: New Stories from the Archive allowed artists to engage with the items available in the archive and re-use these for their works, and some of the resulting artworks were displayed on-site. These artworks not only combined art and archival images, but they also linked historical and contemporary views, as well as allowed for commentary on contextualization and the moving image as (collective) memory. This was promising since queer artists could have engaged with and integrated seamlessly into the exhibition without drawing specific attention to diverse sexual or gender identities, but this was not perceptible in the displayed works. As archival theorist Ann Cvetkovich argues, representing history, and more specifically one rooted in trauma, “can benefit from the help of artists and other creative archivists, rather than being left to the
72 Gender neutral received 43% of the votes for ‘most irritating word of 2017’, see “Weg met dat woord! 2017:
Weg met ‘Genderneutraal’ en ‘ik heb zoiets van’,” Instituut voor de Nederlandse Taal, 7 December, 2017, http://www.inl.nl/images/stories/over_ons/voor_de_pers/20171207_persbericht_wmdw2017_uitslag.html.
scholars and the museums and the libraries.”73 Regularly featuring artists’ interventions is
identified by museologist Richard Sandell as one form of “playfully and poetically” queering a collection, a means by which artists can deconstruct notions around the every day and normalization of gender and sexuality and pose uncomfortable questions to audiences.74 By allowing (queer) artists to engage with the materials, one could imagine works that integrate problematic ephemera from the archive and engage with them in a way that unveils their heteronormativity or their inherent or perceived queerness. New Media: New Stories from the Archive was a small, temporary exhibition though, and only featuring non-normative
sexualities or gender identities this way can become tokenistic if these communities are not involved in sustainable ways and is not enough to be considered an inclusive solution.
Let’s YouTube was the second, much larger temporary exhibition, and is another example of the institutes’ engagement to connecting media history to the present. It
considered how YouTube functions within the media landscape. YouTube is a vital space for videos and stories of queer self-expression. Searching for ‘coming out’, for example, delivers an incredible 54.600.000 results on the platform. These videos could be of incomparable value for the future when it comes to archiving and representing sexual and gender diversity. Though there might be issues of performativity and institutionalisation of the platform, there is a lot to be said for YouTube as an archive of queer expression because of high levels of self-disclosure among its users, of intangible heritage through the recording of certain events or experiences, as well as a source of amateur material.75 The latter is especially valuable for
representing minorities within a national archive because, as professor of Screen Studies Patricia Zimmerman argues, amateur films can operate as a deconstruction of the narrative of a national archive because of the more democratic nature of these films, and because it
allows us to reclaim the past as photographed by those not included in national cinemas or Hollywood, a form of cinematic reparation, although it does - in significant ways- function as a corrective to nationalised representational
73 Ann Cvetkovich, “Photographing Objects: Art as Queer Archival Practice,” in Lost and Found: Queerying the
Archive, eds. Mathias Danbolt, Jane Rowley, and Louise Wolthers (Copenhagen: Nikolaj, Copenhagen Art
Center, 2009), 49-65.
74 Knoop and Van den Hoonaard, eds, Queering the Collections: Tips & tricks, 17.
75 See Sonia Núñez Puente, Diana Fernández Romero and Rainer Rubira García, “Online Activism and Subject
Construction of the Victim of Gender-based Violence on Spanish YouTube Channels: Multimodal Analysis and Performativity,” European Journal of Women’s Studies 22, no. 3 (2015): 319–333; Jin Kim, “The
Institutionalization of YouTube: From User-generated Content to Professionally Generated Content,” Media,
