Introduction
In 2000 the Northern Ireland Screen Digital Film Archive (DFA) was founded as part of the British Film Institute’s (BFI) Millennium Project. With a focus on education and public access, the DFA fills an existing gap in Northern Ireland’s cultural heritage sector, bringing together the nation’s moving image history for the first time in one collection. The initiative’s aim to develop a wider awareness and understanding of moving image culture in Northern Ireland provides an extra dimension to the cultural heritage of the nation; moving images are vital sources of historical evidence, providing a unique record of society that complements written primary sources (Hidden Treasures, 2). The DFA collection offers a new and engaging platform for users to explore key historical events and records of everyday life relating to Northern Ireland. The expansion and growing importance of moving image content in contemporary society places the audiovisual archive in a position comparable to museums, libraries and traditional archives, as an institution that aims to collect, preserve, and promote the heritage of a particular nation.
Museums, libraries, and perhaps to a lesser extent archives, hold a privileged position in society. The evidence for this is in their very architecture and prominent location in the capital cities of most nations, their often monumental appearance signifying their importance (Duncan and Wallach, 52). The collections acquired by these institutions are intended to tell the story of a society’s history, culture, and achievements in order to better understand its contemporary position in the context of past events. Hyung yu Park argues that heritage “is not only a fundamental attribute of national culture but an essential form of symbolic embodiment through which people can construct, reconstruct and communicate their sense of national belonging” (520).
This places heritage institutions in a position of power in relation to a national agenda, whether they acknowledge it or not.
Wide scale public access has traditionally been the duty of the museum. The primary function of archives’ has always been to act as a site for the preservation and safeguarding of cultural heritage with access to the material being a secondary function. However, there has been a gradual shift in focus towards the opening up of the archives with a new importance placed on accessibility. Alexandria Teague Schneiter-Todd states that archives “are both historical spaces and public spaces, which allow us to collectively come to know nation and heritage through visualisations of the past” (17). This, as well as the newfound attitude towards access, place the archive on a similar level of public relevance to the museum and further demonstrate it as a site of national identity. In order to engage fully with the significance of the DFA’s potential contribution to a national identity of Northern Ireland it is necessary to look at the historical context of Britain and Ireland.
Britain and Ireland’s relationship has been heavily influenced by the shared history between the two nations. The settlement and colonisation of Ireland by Britain can generally be dated to the 1600s, with varying levels of control and dominance maintained by Britain up to the early part of the twentieth century (Kenny, xvii). In this period, the assimilation of Ireland into the British Empire was attempted through the eradication of Gaelic culture and Anglicisation of society (Kenny, 2). This course of action was met with dissatisfaction among Irish natives and was opposed through several attempts at rebellion, most notably in 1798. British military dominance successfully dealt with such insurrections and the formal integration of Ireland into the British constitution under the Act of Union of 1801 helped to strengthen imperial control over Ireland (Kenny, 10). This would provide the foundation for the eventual
revolution and the Irish War of Independence in 1919, a defining period in the history of Ireland. The turbulent events of the twentieth century have left a lasting impression on the psyche of Irish society, with more recent history lingering in the collective memory on both sides of the Irish Sea. Following the War of Independence and the signing of the Anglo-Irish Treaty, to the subsequent separation of Northern Ireland from the South, the island of Ireland has been the site of prolonged political and civil unrest. From the outbreak of civil war, sparked by the signing of the treaty in 1921, to the violence that plagued the North for decades since the 1960s, the trauma of these events has left its mark on the political and social landscape of society. Even with the prospect of peace, brought on by the Good Friday Agreement, the reality remains that there are two deep-seated political and religious perspectives in opposition to each other within Ireland.
The segregation of the Nationalist Catholics and the Unionist Protestants in Northern Ireland has had a profound effect on society beyond that of the political arena. Elizabeth Crooke notes that for “many people in Northern Ireland aspects of
‘the troubles’ influence everyday life; issues of religious background and political affiliation frequently determine the school you attend, where you live, which sport you play and who your friends are” (2001, 119). This act of demarcation has helped cultivate the opposing views of both sides of the divide further adding to the public debate over politics, nation, and history. The division of society in Northern Ireland has extended to matters of cultural heritage as the institutions responsible for its perseveration and promotion have to deal with contradictory opinions on the past.
Furthermore, Ireland’s relationship with Britain offers an interesting perspective on its struggle for national identity in the wake of independence.
Furthermore, the political situation of Northern Ireland in relation to an Irish identity
introduces discussions on post-colonial theory. In Ireland – a test case for Post- colonialism/Post colonialism Brenda Murray states that “Ireland presents itself as a
unique case in that we are dealing with knowledges constructed in the West, and essentially of the West, unlike the situations more typically discussed in relation to third world countries” (15). Ireland’s decolonisation can be seen in its political independence from its former colony but the same cannot be said for Northern Ireland as a part of the UK. The North’s relationship to both the Republic and Britain maintains the colonial tie in the memory of both nations.
The development of the DFA must be considered in light of the issues of contested and joint heritage. The politics of heritage in Northern Ireland must be approached with caution as it has the potential to aggravate, as much as cultivate a sense of national identity. Firstly, I will look at contested heritage in relation to the DFA; opposing opinions of political and social ideals inevitably have an effect on heritage. The notion of contested heritage in Northern Ireland is amplified by its troubled past as key historical events are often remembered differently. The events of Bloody Sunday in January 1972 offer a suitable example of contested memory. The killing of thirteen catholic civilians by the British army brought about a severe backlash from the Nationalist community in Northern Ireland, and although an official report of the events was created by the British government, there also exists a Nationalist ‘folk memory’ that celebrates the victims (Conway, 2) and purports the anti-British sentiment within the catholic community.
Contested heritage acts as an obstacle for institutions attempting to present an all encompassing sense of national identity. Crooke states that “success lies with the ease at which the national past can be presented as permanent, enduring and almost inevitable” (2006, 134). The historical background of Britain and Ireland’s
relationship causes Northern Ireland’s cultural identity to become a conflicted notion.
As a member of the United Kingdom, Northern Ireland forms part of British identity, alongside England, Scotland, and Wales, while the historical link to the rest of Ireland still bears significance to the Nationalist community. Sara McDowell identifies the root of this problem as stemming from the fact that nationalist communities “see themselves as politically, culturally, and historically Irish” while Unionists “want to maintain the link with Britain and consider themselves politically, culturally and historically British” (217). The contested nature of heritage in Northern Ireland ultimately affects the formation of the DFA with regard to the material they collect and the perceived stance they take in relation it.
The second issue that must be considered in examining the formation of the DFA is that of joint heritage. The International Council of Archives developed the term to deal with cases of shared claims to heritage
where the archives form part of the national heritages of two or more States but cannot be divided without destroying its juridical, administrative, and historical value [...] The practical result of the application of this concept is that the archives group is left physically intact in one of the countries concerned, where it is treated as part of the national archival heritage, with all of the responsibilities with respect to security and handling implied thereby for the State acting as the owner and custodian of that heritage. The States sharing this joint heritage should then be given rights equal to those of the custodial State.
(Bastien, 30)
The DFA functions as a non-repository archive in that it does not store and maintain the physical carriers of the material in its collection. The decision to use digital content allows for the negotiation of digital access copies of relevant footage, while the analogue material that forms a part of other national and commercial collections throughout Britain and Ireland remains intact in specifically designed facilities.
Therefore, the DFA provides a vital service that grants access to records of national importance that would otherwise be far removed from the public of Northern Ireland.
The case of the DFA, within the contested nature of society in Northern Ireland, provides an interesting starting point for the examination of identity creation through national heritage. The aim of this thesis is to investigate the role played by audiovisual archives in collecting for, and in promoting, a sense of national identity.
The issues of joint and contested heritage in Northern Ireland highlight the difficulties facing the DFA, and the problematic nature of the archivist’s role in managing the collection. However, I would argue that the role of the archive in relation to national identity is inherently problematic. The creation of any national heritage institution automatically involves the establishment of borders and limits. Collections are established on the basis of what to include and what to leave out which “may lead to intolerance, discrimination, cleansing and usurpation” (Ketelaar, 2005, 7). The purpose of my examination into the relationship between the archive and national identity is to explore the need for, and the relevance of, the national archive in an age where “processes of globalisation appear to be undermining the nation-state and its territorial power” (Rembold and Carrier, 361). This can be used to spark debate over the future of archives and the possibility of breaking down borders through the use of digital platform such as the DFA.
For my examination of the role of audiovisual archives in the creation of national identity I plan to use Jeannette Bastian’s concept of a “community of records” as a framework to explore the relationship between society, the archive and the nation. Bastian states that a “community of records refers to the community both as a record creating entity and as a memory frame that contextualises the records it creates” (3) and suggests that a society’s need for archival records speaks to a need for a “community (or national) identity” (6). In relation to the role of the archive in this process Bastian states:
Many of the basic archival principles, such as custody and provenance, that ensure and safeguard the authenticity of records also give substance to the ability of records to support and foster collective memory and identity. Efforts to repatriate archival materials, whether through copying or by actual physical exchange, point to the self- affirming role of records as cultural heritage.
(6)
This presents the ability to access the records of the past as the key factor in creating any sort of identity while also indicating the importance of archives in this process.
In Owning Memory: How a Caribbean Community Lost Its Archives and Found its History Bastian uses the example of a post-colonial island in the United
States Virgin Islands to demonstrate the issues of provenance, ownership and access.
These terms are vitally important in colonial environments, with wider questions of archival power playing an important role in the shaping of memory. The case of the Virgin Islands sees the removal of a community’s records by the coloniser on the grounds that ownership of the material rightfully belonged to the creator, namely the
governments of Denmark and the United States. The loss of their archive meant the loss of heritage for the island community and as such its people had no way of linking their past to their present. This case offers certain parallels with Northern Ireland and, in particular, with the DFA. The inaccessibility of Northern Ireland’s moving image heritage led to the DFA’s effort to ‘repatriate’ materials from the collections of mainland Britain and the Republic of Ireland.
In the first chapter, I will further explore the problematic nature of the role of the archive in the formation of national identity. I will examine the ethical considerations that influence providing access with regard to troublesome materials in the archive and discuss how the related issues of ownership, copyright, privacy and archival power ultimately affect the creation of national identity. Chapter two will take this theoretical discussion as the starting point for a more focussed look at examples of national archives, specifically audiovisual archives. I will use examples from both the Republic of Ireland and Britain, examining their models for identity building through the collection, preservation and exhibition of suitable materials. For the Irish case, I have chosen the Irish Film Institute’s archive and will explore the development of the archive from the early days of Irish independence. This will then be compared and contrasted with the national archives of Wales and Scotland, their emergence and development, and their position within the wider audiovisual archive community of the United Kingdom, following the devolution of both nations. Chapter three will look at the development of the DFA, the reasons for its establishment and its growth to the present day. In the final chapter, I will discuss the use of the DFA and the methods by which it provides access to the public. Chapters three and four are intended to present a full picture of the activities of the DFA, from a collection level to its educational and outreach work. In the exploration of multiple national
institutions and their operations I hope to draw conclusions on the current relationship between the archive and national identity.
1. Nation and the Archive
In 1882, Ernst Renan traced the historical traditions of the republics, kingdoms, and empires of antiquity in an attempt to answer the question what is nation? He used issues of race, language, religion, and geography to explore possible definitions of nationhood and national identity, ultimately acknowledging that the concept of nation was reliant on the “possession in common of a rich legacy of memories” (19).
Memory has been transmitted from generation to generation in various forms. The oral tradition that preceded written records allowed for the stories, customs, and history of individuals to be passed down in a familial or local environment. The advent of print expanded the possibilities for sharing memories, providing an opportunity to produce enduring and relatively stable accounts of the past. Benedict Anderson’s concept of “print-capitalism”, referring to the increased production and expansive reach of written material from the 1500s, claims that an increased focus on accessibility and a distancing from the use of Latin gave a new “fixity to language”
(44). The availability of printed records in many contemporary languages significantly affected the transmission of memory, but also highlighted the boundaries of particular territories. The “convergence of capitalism and print technology on the [...] diversity of human language created the possibility of a new form of imagined community, which in its basic morphology set the stage for the modern nation” (Anderson, 46).
The records which a society creates and maintains benefit the promotion of a common or collective memory and, by extension, a collective sense of national identity.
This assessment of the relationship between nation, records, and memory makes a stronger case for the archive’s role in the formation of identity. The traditional view of the archivist is that of an objective, impartial custodian of a collection; yet it should be noted that the decision-making processes for the
establishment and management of archival records is far from value neutral. Terry Cook claims that it is necessary that archivists acknowledge the active role they play in the shaping of collective memory as the inclusionary and exclusionary politics involved in collecting and preserving material are important contributing factors in the creation of national identity (2001, 4). Similar to the arguments made by Anderson, Eric Ketelaar has noted that in shaping the identity of a particular group or community, the boundaries are automatically mapped out to represent a distinction from other groups or communities (7). Identification and classification are integral parts of archival practice but they are not without their own problems and issues. In chapter six of Sorting Things Out: Classification and its Consequences, Geoffrey Bowker and Susan Star explore the idea of race classification during the apartheid in South Africa. The introduction of legislation in the 1950’s that classified racial groups for the purpose of determining where people could live and work would have a profound effect on the South African nation for decades to come (196). It is seldom that any form of categorization runs as a smooth operation and in the case of South Africa, difficulties and conflicting ideas quite often arose from instances of inter- racial marriages and the classification of children from such families (203). Although this particular example may seem removed from the role of the archive as a heritage institution, if it is applied to the activities of selection, categorization and memory- shaping within archival practice it helps demonstrate the problematic issue of archival power. Before I take a closer look at this concept I will examine the ethical guidelines that govern archival practice to see the effect they have on the decision making processes that influence collection building and management.
1.1 The Archive and Ethics
The highly political, and often contested, nature of representing cultural heritage demands an awareness of ethical issues from the institutions involved. From the Society of American Archivists (SAA) to the International Council of Museums (ICOM) the heritage sector is regulated by the various, yet ultimately similar, codes of ethics and a set of core values to aspire to. For example, the SSA works with the principle that
archivists provide important benefits and services such as: identifying and preserving essential parts of the cultural heritage of society;
organizing and maintaining the documentary record of institutions, groups, and individuals; assisting in the process of remembering the past through authentic and reliable primary sources; and serving a broad range of people who seek to locate and use valuable evidence and information.
(“SAA Code”, Web)
This set of values encompasses the core values of archival institutions, providing a context in which the code of ethics can be understood. While the overarching principles presented here are relevant to all archives, the codes of ethics should vary in relation to the specific collection they represent, for as Karen Benedict suggests:
The archival profession faces a significant challenge in setting standards for best institutional practices because so many different
types of institutions exist within the profession and they have different
modes of governance, missions, functions, obligations, and users (10)
As audio-visual records have become increasingly important as tools to document and recall the past, new organisations have been established to help govern the creation and management of specific audio-visual archives. Both the Fédération Internationale des Archives du Film (FIAF) and the Association of Moving Image Archivists (AMIA) have developed a code of ethics that will help new archives fulfil their custodial promise of safeguarding and preserving the material in their care. However Nina Rao notes that other important issues, such as the exhibition and access to material “have been insufficiently addressed in the film archiving field” (105). Rao examines the shortcomings of audio-visual archives’ ethical guidelines, with a particular focus on FIAF, in order to see how they might improve the barriers to access. The ethical decisions made by audio-visual archives ultimately affects how their collections are used, thus making them an important factor in the creation of identity.
The FIAF code of ethics emerged in the mid-nineties with the purpose of catering to the predominantly feature film based collections of the FIAF members (Rao, 106). The establishment of the FIAF in 1938 was an attempt to protect the notion of film art against the increasing dominance of commercial features (Horak, 50). It is this ethos that Rao blames for the discrepancies in the FIAF code of ethics as it “does not encompass the differing concerns that exist for the range of nontheatrical moving images” (106). The means of production for moving images has changed significantly since the establishment of FIAF, making it necessary to consider the
value of a wider spectrum of material. Catherine Portugues has suggested that materials such as “documentary film, amateur film, and home movies 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’” (qtd. in Rao, 106). The narrow scope of the FIAF code of ethics requires a re-evaluation of the place of amateur film and home movies within the archive, for although some individuals and institutions do recognise the importance of these unique and often personal documents, there is still a need to actively promote their potential to the public.
1.2 Ownership, Copyright and Privacy
The question of ownership is important in relation to determining who holds the intellectual rights of material and ultimately who has the power to make decisions about its use. For audiovisual material, this delves into the many relationships that exist between the subject and the producer of the footage, at the time of creation and after. The individual, or individuals, depicted in moving image material form an implicit relationship with the producer of said material that entitles them to a joint claim to ownership, or as Rao suggests, “the individuals and cultures depicted in archival material undeniably have a stake in it and arguably share in its ownership”
(111). Particularly in cases of post-colonial societies, which exist as “joint creations of two separate populations” (Bastian, 83), there is a need to determine the extent to which access, and indeed restriction of access, has an effect on each side of the joint ownership. The construction of a national narrative for post-colonial states often relies on the inclusion of information and records its colonial past; however Schneiter-Todd
cautions that the use of such material must always take into account the cultural sensitivities of the colonised community (15). The danger, as Sue McKemish notes, is that
Western archival methods reflect and reinforce a privileging of settler/colonist voices and narratives – often although not always expressed in written form – over Indigenous ones. Further, the conventional positioning of individuals as subjects of the archive has had a disempowering effect on indigenous people whose lives have been so extensively documented in archives, often for the purposes of surveillance, control and dispossession.
(qtd. in Schneiter-Todd, 14)
In other words, the favouring of one narrative over the other, whether it is a conscious decision or not, has the potential to cause friction between the archive and the public it aims to serve. Determining the ownership of records will lead to better informed decisions on the right to access, creating fewer instances of the archive causing offense or prejudice.
It is through access that the material can transcend beyond its physical state and take on more of a meaningful purpose for society and nation. However, one of the primary concerns for archivists when it comes to providing this access to collections is how to deal with the complicated issues stemming from copyright or privacy rights.
Copyright acts as a hindrance to archival institutions that wish to present and make accessible their collections; “their problem has always been that they were not the proprietors of most of the material in their care” (Houston, 3). In a best case scenario, the donor will come to an agreement with the archive that is mutually agreeable and
allows for the provision of access. Occasionally, the donor will request that a restriction is placed on their material in order to either limit or disallow access altogether, in which case the archive must “fully respect the owners of copyright”
(“FIAF Code”, Web). The main problem that can present itself in relation to this issue is that the archive will have no record of copyright and no link to the donor of the material in their collection. The most obvious example of this scenario is that of the
‘orphan film’. Maria Fuentes suggests that a “primary definition of orphan films refers to their copyright status. A film is an orphan if its copyright owner (or owners) cannot be identified, cannot be found or [...] has abandoned it to its fate” (7). Current copyright law favours the author of works and, without knowing or being able to contact the individuals responsible for the rights, archives are powerless to act out of fear of the possible legal ramifications (Fuentes, 7). The reality of these cases is that the films are left alone in the archive with limited chance of being made accessible.
According to Dan Streible, the issue facing orphan films – “how to preserve a film abandoned by its copyright owner?” – has acted as a starting point for archives in their mission to find a more agreeable form of copyright (127). The orphan example presents a worst case scenario for copyright issues; yet a re-evaluation of current copyright laws would be of significant benefit throughout many collections, allowing for more open archives.
The conflict between the institutional desire to provide access and the restrictions of copyright demands that archivist’s are ethically obligated to fulfil their role as custodian, to protect the many rights of the donor, including the right to privacy. Even with the concept of joint heritage and the suggested claim to equal stake from parties, there is an inherent problem in the production of audio-visual material.
Rao suggests that “there is a power imbalance between the maker of the film and the
subject of the film” (108). The footage may or may not have been made with the subjects consent. In the life of this material, once it enters the archive the power shifts to the archivists and curators; it becomes their duty to reassess this imbalance and, as far as possible, present their collections in a neutral manner. In relation to paper records Karen Benedict states that,
the archivist may have to advise donors who are unconcerned by, or unaware of, sensitive materials in the papers they are offering that may present problems. In such cases, it is the archivist’s responsibility to review the papers with an eye to the protection of the privacy of people who have not participated in the donation
(17)
This becomes increasingly pertinent in relation to audiovisual material as it becomes more difficult to disguise or hide the subject’s depiction. The archive, like the camera, is far from value neutral making it vitally important to recognise the underlying power contained within.
1.3 Archival Power
As noted already, archives and archivists’ opinions of their role in society is changing.
Joan Schwartz and Terry Cook maintain that active management of records infers a degree of power that is a key factor in memory and identity formation, holding influence “over the shape and direction of historical scholarship, collective memory, and national identity, over how we know ourselves as individuals, groups, and societies” (2). The accession and de-accession, categorisation, contextualisation and
use of records, although ideally governed by the ethical choices of the archivist, are all key factors in the argument for archival power. As “memory spaces, [archives] are the containers of the collective memory of their creators as well as of their users and interpreters” (Bastian, 13), preserving a particular idea of society. This is a significantly flawed notion and a warning to both archivists and users alike that the power wielded by archival institutions has the potential to manipulate the accepted view of events depending on the agenda of the archive, as Elizabeth Crooke notes;
We can represent our history in a way that celebrates our best achievements and makes less of that which we are least proud. History can also be to in a way that denies the past, manipulates the truth and deliberately misleads
(Crooke, 2006, 135).
The question of who controls the archive is important in assessing its influence on society. National archives, by their very title, connote the notion of state or governmental control, yet in Schwartz and Cook’s postmodern take on the issue
it [is] manifestly clear that archives – as institutions – wield power over the administrative, legal, and fiscal accountability of governments, corporations, and individuals, and engage in powerful public policy debates around the right to know, freedom of information, protection of privacy, copyright and intellectual property.
(2)
This postulates the notion of ultimate archival power within society which in turn presents the archive’s traditional value of impartiality as defunct.
1.4 Conclusions
This chapter set out to establish the relationship between the archive, its records, and the nation in order to show how the formation of a collective national identity, and the material used for such efforts, are inherently problematic. The issues of ownership, copyright, and privacy greatly affect the ways in which archivists work with their collections and the decisions involved in the management of records. The impartiality of the archivist has been called into question in light of the multitude of contributing factors which govern archival practice; selection favours one voice over another, contextualisation gives a sense of authority or truth that may exclude the beliefs of particular groups, and classification, as seen in Bowker and Star’s South African case, can lead to inconsistencies and prejudice. These processes, and the inherent power maintained by the archival institution, must be made visible to the public in order to change the expectation that the presentation of records is a non-problematic process.
Schwartz and Cook suggest that “power recognized becomes power that can be questioned, made accountable, and opened to transparent dialogue and enriched understanding” (2). This offers the public an opportunity to debate, contradict, and influence the shape of the archive, the stories and history it presents, and ultimately the identity of their society. If “knowing yourself is knowing your history” (Crooke, 119) then it is equally important to know and understand the “tacit narratives”
(Ketelaar, 131) that permeate throughout the archive as it shapes the view of the past.
Moreover still, the benefit of additional public control in archival matters is the potential democratisation of societal values; in other words, “control of the archive [...] means control of society” (Schwartz and Cook, 4).
2. National Archives
Audiovisual archives are still a relatively new development in the heritage sector, evolving alongside the rapid expansion of cinema and moving image production.
Penelope Houston notes that there “was nothing that could properly be called an archive until the mid-1930s, and in the early days there might have been some hesitancy about what they should call themselves” (Houston, 2). The earliest film archives included the National Film Library (later the BFI) and the Cinémathèque Française, both catering for this specialised material. The evolution of the film industry and the advent of television, home recording equipment, and web cams have provided a platform for the general public to become producers of audiovisual content. As seen with the FIAF example in the previous chapter, this expands the remit of audiovisual archives collection policies, which continually need to adapt to changing technologies, formats and user expectations. The goals for a national archive is to collect, preserve and make accessible documents of the past that pertain to a collective sense of nation. For audiovisual archives this should include records ranging from feature films, produced for their entertainment value, to documentaries, home movies and news footage that form an insightful view of daily life. Their collections are centred on ideas of the nation as a united community with a determinable identity. Once these documents are deemed important, in accordance with an institution’s collection policy, they enter the archive as an ‘official’ record of society. The context within which these records are situated is important for the users’
understanding and engagement. The archive, as a heritage institution, maintains the link between the present and the past, offering a valuable resource to researchers, professionals and the wider public. Through the selective collection of suitable material relating to a specific national agenda, and through their increasingly
important goal to provide greater access to collections, audiovisual archives create a unique view of society that can be used to shape both our social memory and national identity. In this chapter I will look at the history of the Irish Film Archive (IFA) and discuss how its collection was formed and what purpose it serves. The second part of this chapter will deal with the current state of audiovisual archives in the UK. With regard to the devolution of Scotland and Wales, I will examine their respective national archives for the purpose of gauging their individual national identities in relation to the notion of an all encompassing British Identity.
2.1 The Irish Film Archive
Following the Anglo-Irish treaty of 1921 and the impending separation of the twenty- six counties that make up the Republic of Ireland from Britain, there was an effort to dramatically reassert a sense of Irish identity; a prominent example being the rise in popularity for traditional sport. The unique nature of the Gaelic Athletic Association provided a platform for the celebration of a distinctive sense of identity (Crosson/Dine, 109) However, in the early days of Ireland’s separation from Britain, film as a important part of national culture was not high on the newly established government’s list. Kevin Rockett notes that film as a medium was more in line with the nationalist principles of pre-treaty Ireland and that in the newly established Irish Free State activities such as film production were seen to be a danger to social stability of the nation (40). While externally financed feature films and newsreels continued to be made in Ireland, the lack of an indigenous film industry made it unlikely that a national archive specifically for audiovisual material would be formed.
The basis for a national archive for audiovisual material in Ireland can be traced back to the middle of the twentieth century. At the same time as the likes of the National Film Library, of Britain, and the Cinémathèque Française were solidifying their importance in the world of film archiving on a global scale, Ireland was exploring new ways to engage the public with this medium. The formation of the National Film Institute (NFI) by Archbishop McQuaid in 1943 points to the earliest effort to preserve the medium of film in Ireland. John Kenny states that the NFI
“considered its duty to be ‘to direct and encourage the use of the motion picture in the national and cultural interests of the Irish people’, and it thereby established a distributing film library that could be used for information and educational purposes”
(Web). It should also be mentioned however that in the early 1950s another organisation, the Irish Film Society (IFS), was advocating for the development of a dedicated site for preservation. In setting up the Archives Committee, the IFS hoped to “discuss ways and means of discovering the whereabouts of old films in this country, to catalogue the films and to seek information on the costs of keeping the films in good condition” (qtd. in Hoctor, 23). Unfortunately, it would take another four decades for this vision to be actualised and in the time since, the efforts of the IFS to preserve Ireland’s film heritage have been all but forgotten. (Hoctor, 24)
It is interesting to note that the pervading issue of religion that has shaped and divided the identity of modern Ireland has also had a dramatic impact on the IFA’s collection. “Although the Catholic Church was never established as the official church of the country, Ireland has always been deeply influenced by Catholicism”
(Garcimartín, 403). The foundation of the NFI by a member of the Catholic Church meant that its activities were defined by religion with an initial desire to combat “‘the school of corruption’ in the motion picture industry” (“History”, Web). The Vigilanti
Cura, issued by Pope Pius XI in 1936, attempted to protect the morality [...] and decencies of human society” (“Vigilanti Cura”, Web) which were under threat from the motion picture industry. Therefore, the goal of the NFI was to provide the people of Ireland with an alternative to the foreign imports, with their perceived potential to damage the moral fibre of the country. (“Vigilanti Cura”, Web) The opinion that the medium of film was valuable for its educational potential when used correctly led to the NFA’s position as “the teacher and moral guardian of the cinema-going public”
(“History”, Web). During the 1940’s and 1950’s the NFI was responsible for producing state commissioned safety, health and educational films which it also maintained.
In the early 1980s, the decline of the Catholic Church’s influence on matters within the NFI called for a change in direction towards a more secular approach to film education and culture. The name was changed to the Irish Film Institute (IFI) and by 1992 the establishment of a new location in the heart of Dublin, complete with an official archive section, introduced Ireland to the international audiovisual community. The collection inherited from the NFI’s distribution library, containing all of its educational films, provided the IFA with an important core collection and the specialised climate controlled storage vaults at the new premises warranted the acquisition of more material. The current head of the IFA, Kassandra O’Connell, has expressed a consciousness that Ireland was a “late starter” when it came to film preservation (79) while IFI Curator Sunniva O’Flynn notes that “there was always this awareness, this embarrassment in Ireland [...] that we were one of the last countries in Europe without a film archive” (qtd. in Kenny, Web). This awareness and new remit for collection, which was unhindered by a concern for the morals of the audience, led to the IFA systematically approaching possible donors in an attempt to expand the
holdings (Kenny, Web). However, due to the size and funding limitations of the DFA, they operate on a non-purchase acquisition policy which, according to Elizabeth Bruce, makes the growth of the archive dependant on the generosity of donors (108).
From their new location the IFA aims to bolster their position as Ireland’s national film archive through the promotion of and access to the collection, thus playing an important role in bringing the Irish public closer to their audiovisual heritage.
2.2 Expansion, Goals, and Access
Today, the IFA’s collection has expanded to hold approximately 17,000 cans, 3000 beta tapes and a wide range of VHS and DVD access copies (Bruce, 106). The collection scope covers feature films, documentaries, newsreels, travelogues, advertisements and amateur films, including home movies covering the period from 1897 to the present day. This provides an extensive overview of moving image production and culture in Ireland as well as providing valuable historical sources. As IFI curator, O’Flynn expresses a particular fascination with the amateur no-fiction films (cited in Kenny, Web). In the 1950’s, 60’s, and even 70’s, before the introduction of video, parish priests were often the only members of a community that could afford cameras and film (Kenny, Web). The privileged position that members of the clergy held in Ireland during this period afforded them great trust from their community; thus enabling “their films is that they transcend the family unit, focusing on such community events as Corpus Christi processions, fairs, and parish life generally” (Kenny, Web). These local records of everyday activities are unique historical documents relating to life in Ireland and, although the intricacies of archival ethics and copyright may restrict access, John Kenny notes that the IFA is eager to
include these films in the collection and likewise, the donor is pleased to receive a copy on contemporary access format and know that their film is in safe hands (Web).
Besides the audiovisual collection, the IFA’s holdings also include a paper archive and the Tiernan McBride Film Library. These collections maintain important documents pertaining to Irish film as well as an extensive collection of journals, periodicals, reviews, and film posters (Bruce, 106).
The IFI website states that:
The IFI Irish Film Archive acquires, preserves and makes available Ireland’s moving image heritage, working to ensure that Ireland’s rich and varied film history, both amateur and professional, is protected and made accessible for the benefit of current and future generations.
(“About DFA”, Web)
The IFI is funded by the Heritage Council of Ireland as well as occasional private donations. The head of the IFA acknowledges that the expense involved in film preservation coupled with budget constraints demands the “careful consideration of value and vulnerability when prioritising material” for selection (O’Connell, 82). The ethical and professional implications of risking the integrity of the material in favour of providing access occasionally causes friction but for the most part the archive does its best to engage the public.
The traditional modes of access are relevant to the IFA as they provide an important resource for researchers, professionals and students looking for information or material. Users of the archive must make an appointment to see the collection which requires payment of a small fee to cover consultation and assistance (“Access”,
Web). However, other forms of access that benefit the wider public are also important to the archive. According to O’Connell, the relationship between the IFA and its
“parent body”, the IFI, is highly beneficial for the exposure of the work carried out in the archive; providing “access to cinemas and projectionists, who facilitate regular screenings of archive material” (82). As well contributing to national festivals and special events, the archive presents a special ‘Archive at Lunch’ programme each month comprising of daytime screenings and lectures based around the archives holdings. These screenings are free and offer a valuable platform to engage with the public. Other avenues of access arise from the production of several DVD collections featuring footage from the archive, including GAA Gold, the coverage of historic Gaelic Games finals, and Seoda: Treasures from the Irish Film Archive 1948 – 1970, as well as the inclusion of limited footage on the digital access resource Europa Film Treasures. Due to the sheer financial cost, the IFA has not yet engaged in a mass digitisation project, yet a recent survey conducted by the Digital Repository of Ireland into the possible benefits of digital archiving in the country could present additional funding opportunities in the future (O’Carroll and Webb). From humble beginnings, the IFI has grown to become an important element of Irish film heritage and culture.
2.3 Devolution and the Archives of Scotland and Wales
The UK, due to the nature of composition, boasts a wide range of audiovisual archives, particularly when compared alongside Ireland. The unique heritage and identity of England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland play a crucial role in the overall heritage of the UK. However, particularly in light of the devolution of powers to the latter three nations, an increased autonomy in relation to political and cultural
matters has led to the addition of several new audiovisual archives, including the DFA. While the British Film Institute’s National Film and Television Archive (BFI) maintains a “UK-wide collecting remit” (Hidden Treasures, 9), both Scotland and Wales have established their own nationally focussed archives to promote their unique sense of identity. The Scottish Screen Archive (SSArc) and the National Screen and Sound Archive of Wales (NSSAW), along with the BFI and The Imperial War Museum Film and Video Archive (IWM), work to acquire and preserve material relevant to the UK while also developing their own national collection body. In addition to these four institutions there exist multiple English regional archives that serve the purpose of collecting material of local significance that does fall under the UK-wide remit (Hidden treasures, 8), and the DFA of Northern Ireland.
The examples provided by the establishment of both the SSArc and the NSSAW are important to the further examination of the DFA in Northern Ireland, in the devolved environment of the UK. SSArc was established in 1976, three years before Scotland would hold a referendum on the subject of devolution from the UK Parliament. Despite failing to achieve political autonomy, the establishment of this new archive provided a new opportunity for the Scottish public to celebrate and, more importantly, to own their film heritage, independent to that of the UK, demonstrating the importance of Scottish national identity. Former SSArc Curator Janet McBain explains how,
it was the run up to the 1979 referendum – it was that period when there was a growing awareness of Scottish cultural concerns. And one of the reasons the Scottish Film Archive was established by the Scottish Council was that they were also becoming much more alive to
this whole concept of what is our Scottish national culture within
Britain. ... [T]here was a concern that Scottish cultural needs and Scottish cultural expression was not being met in the collecting policy of the London [National Film] Archive.
(97)
The example McBain uses to illustrate this it that of a sporting event; an important social and cultural record, the National Archive in London was sure to collect footage of the FA Cup Final as a representation of sport in British society. This same interest did not extend to footage of the Scottish Cup Final however (98), which contain equal significance and worth for Scottish society. This problem extended throughout the BFI which, with its stretched remit for collection, could only hope to collect a limited cross-section of footage throughout Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. This greatly influenced SSArc’s collection policy as they attempted to gather the films
“that were falling down the cracks” or that “were not being collected elsewhere” in order to achieve a detailed and varied look a Scottish life and culture (McBain, 98).
Today, the SSArc holds a similar collection, content-wise, to that described in the IFA; over 32,000 items of national significance from amateur footage depicting the lives of “ordinary Scots” to the achievements of Scottish filmmakers who have had an impact on national film culture. Also, since 1993, the SSArc has preserved television broadcasts in the Gaelic language which presents a unique attribute of Scottish culture and identity.
The NSSAW was established in 2001, following the merging of the Wales Film and Television Archive (WFTA) and the National Library of Wales’ (NLW) Sound and Moving Image Collection. Its predecessor, The Wales Film and Television Archive, had been established as a pilot scheme in 1989 operating under “three
consecutive governing bodies” before the NLW took over from Sgrin, the Media Agency for Wales (Baines, 69). As with Scotland, the push for devolution was met with an increased desire for separation in the cultural sector. Iola Baines, film development officer at NSSAW, suggests that the merger of WFTA and the NLW is
“an important step toward securing a stable infrastructure for audiovisual archiving in Wales” (Baines, 69). The archive has a similar collection scope and national priority to that of any audiovisual archive designated as a national collection, yet unlike the SSArc and the IFA, the NSSAW, as is evident by the second ‘S’ of its acronym, has significant focus on the preservation of sound recordings. The audio collections contains over 250, 000 hours of material in a multitude of formats, from wax cylinders to MP3 files, covering a diverse range of culturally important content, including concerts, interviews, lectures, readings, oral history, radio programmes and commercial material (“Collections”, Web). For each of its collections, be it sound, film, or television, the NSSAW strives to achieve the same general principles adhered to by national heritage institutions. The diverse collections of the many UK audiovisual archives offers “an intensely rich and varied reflection of the landscapes, lives, work, leisure, culture, history, and identities of the United Kingdom” (Gray and Sheppard, 110) as well as offering perspectives of the individual identities of the Home Nations.
2.4 Conclusions
The IFA, the SSArc, and the NSSAW each have extensive collections containing the filmic and audio representations of their respective nation’s heritage and culture. In
relation to the audiovisual archives of the UK, Frank Gray and Elaine Sheppard present a general picture of what each of these archives aims to collect:
Themes strongly represented include family and community life; rural landscapes and traditional working practices; industry and the urban environment; maritime and coastal activities; the histories of the health, welfare, and educational systems; and acts of local, regional, and national commemoration and celebration.
(110)
These themes are representative of any national archive collection and are the basis on which opinions of identity are built. This commonality among national archives regarding several aspects presents a case for increased communication. In the UK, the interrelated nature of the audiovisual archive community of the UK was recognised as early as 1987, leading to the establishment of the Film Archive Forum (FAF). This organisation “provides opportunities for all of the national and regional film archives to come together to share information and to develop a joint approach to film archive policy and professional practice” (Hidden Treasures, 9). Although this has proved beneficial in developing a dialogue between the members of the community of audiovisual archives, the reality is that dealing with a variety of different cultural policies and funding schemes is a difficult task. The similarities in the directive, and the overall goal of preserving audiovisual heritage, makes a platform of this nature a valuable resource that has the potential to act as a model for other national frameworks, or even the possibility of an international framework.
3. The Audiovisual Heritage of Northern Ireland
As seen in the case of Scotland and Wales, the devolution of power to the Northern Ireland Office brought about increased interest in matters of cultural heritage which could tell the unique story of the nation’s heritage, separate from that of Britain. The development of the DFA was overseen by Northern Ireland Screen, a government supported organisation responsible for the development and promotion of all areas of film and television production and culture; they play an active role in putting Northern Irish film culture on the international map while also focussing on the educational value of film within Northern Ireland (“NI About Us”, Web). As discussed in my introduction, Northern Ireland lacks a national repository for storing its physical audio-visual material of importance; the film and video dealing with Northern Ireland’s heritage is located at various locations scattered around Britain and Ireland.
The DFA has a crucial role within the heritage sector of Northern Ireland, acting as a platform for the nation’s audiovisual history. With no centralised location, the DFA provides a series of Public Access Locations (PALs) throughout Northern Ireland, ensuring that local communities have sufficient access to the collection.
3.1 The Digital Film Archive
The establishment of the DFA in 2000 introduced a platform for the public to engage with their film heritage. Starting with a collection of 55 hours of footage, related to Northern Ireland’s history and culture, the archive has since grown to contain almost 70 hours of digitized film footage from over a century of moving images (“Archive Education Policy, Web). The archive is made up of news footage, documentaries and amateur film, encompassing areas of society including sport, work life and the arts.
The majority of the material in the collection is courtesy of major British institutions such as the BFI, The Imperial War Museum, and British Pathé, however, there is also footage from the various broadcast archives throughout the UK, including the BBC and Channel 4. Other contributions come from various institutions in the Republic of Ireland; Gael Linn, an entrepreneurial organization whose aim is to promote the Irish language and its heritage throughout Ireland, and RTÉ, Ireland’s primary national broadcaster, have both provided footage for the collection. The DFA collection management policy states that it will hold two film collections; these are the ‘Public Access’ collection and the ‘Education’ collection. While both of these collections have been established to act as a valuable educational and cultural resource for the community, the main difference between the two is the matter of copyright. The
‘Public Access’ collection contains material that comes under the original copyright agreement with the donors. This material is available from site specific access locations throughout Northern Ireland, yet it is not possible for the user to download, record, or copy the material in any fashion. In a similar way, the ‘Education’
collection is currently accessible at the PALs but, due to an extended copyright clearance, it is possible for the footage to be downloaded and re-edited as part of the projects organised by each of the specific locations (“Collections Management Policy”, 2).
3.2 Provenance and a ‘Community of Records’
The origin of the material featured in the DFA collection has an important bearing on how the material is presented and how it is received by the public. For example, some of the earliest footage in the collection records events in Northern Ireland prior to
partition. In light of the absence of any substantial indigenous film production in Ireland at that time, the majority of these records were made by British companies.
Films such as Ulster Day the Twelfth and Troubles in Ireland, belonging to the BFI and British Pathé respectively, present a British view of a country in turmoil at a time when the British government had little sympathy for Ireland. This presents another example of the intrinsic power of audiovisual material which, if misinterpreted, has the potential to lead to disputes.
The outcome of this, as mentioned before, is that the footage produced by the British companies of Northern Ireland has been removed from its place of origin. Of course Northern Ireland is still a part of Britain, existing as part of the wider British identity, yet to a certain extent there is a need for these records to represent the people of Northern Ireland independent of Britain. As described in Bastian’s Virgin Island example, the ‘need’ records demonstrates a need for identity (6). Through the DFA, Northern Ireland forms a “community of records” with Britain and the rest of Ireland, in which “all layers of society are participants in the making of records, and the entire community becomes the larger provenance of the records” (Bastian, 83). This larger community provides the basis for the formation of Northern Ireland’s identity.
3.3 ‘Troubles’ in the Archive
A defining influence on the identity of modern Northern Ireland is the violence and unrest contained in its recent history. As with many other post-colonial nations, the dimension of violence has had a deep impact on all areas of society, from politics to cultural heritage. The enactment of the 1998 peace process puts Northern Ireland into the category of a post-conflict society; “however, the term ‘post-conflict societies’ is
problematic because it suggests conflict has ceased when both societies and heritage are actually inherently conflictual” (Giblin, 4). The division evident in Northern Ireland, enhanced by differences in political, religious and social views, has inflated the issue of contested heritage. The position of the DFA within the Northern Ireland heritage sector has important implications for its role of engaging with, and presenting all facets of the past. As a valuable community resource, the DFA, like the museum, has the power to reassess opinions of how society views itself and its history. The traumatic events which have marred society since partition have had a profound effect on the image of Northern Ireland, on both a national and international level.
Contested heritage makes the possibility of a shared national narrative that much more difficult and I would suggest that the opposing views of past events are amplified by the fact that Northern Ireland is a post-conflict environment. The violence experienced in the North throughout its short history has become engrained in the memory of society, producing feelings of anger, bitterness and resentment between the Nationalist and Unionist communities. Both groups’ opinions on Northern Ireland’s present and future is a direct result of their separate views of history. This mentality gave way to periods in history such as ‘The Troubles’; a colloquial term for the widespread violence and unrest in Northern Ireland throughout the 1960s and 70s, with further violence continuing periodically up to the late 1990s.
Theexclusion of Catholics from “the social, economic and political life of the state, found expression on the streets of Northern Ireland through riots, protest marches, and other forms of collective action” (Conway, 6). During this time, attacks by paramilitary groups on both sides of the divide, as well as the recklessness of state forces in dealing with the situation, led to a significant civilian death toll. The continuation of sporadic attacks by one group, and the act of retribution from the
other, further cemented the burgeoning dissidence between the two opposing sides of society. The undercurrent of differentiation and opposition that still plays an important role in Northern Irish life is important for fully understanding the issues faced when presenting one single heritage. The challenge of presenting the past in a way that is agreeable to all members of society is a problematic notion in that the policies for dealing with post-conflict heritage have the potential to “script some groups as victims, some as perpetrators, some as pre-eminent and others as subsidiary” (Giblin, 5). If Northern Ireland is to move forward with a more unified identity, there needs to be some level of mutual understanding and respect between both sides of the political divide. This is perhaps an idealised vision of what heritage institutions can achieve but presenting and engaging with these important historical and social issues is the first step towards promoting change.
The struggle for heritage institutions when dealing with the contested history of a post-conflict nation is that they wish to avoid taking a particular side, favouring one point of view over another. The potential for institutions to cause pain in these instances is high, as it is often the case that the sensitive issues that arise from post- conflict environments remain in the memory of society. “Precisely because defining history is so difficult, museums in Northern Ireland have, in general, taken the easier option, which materialises itself in the avoidance of difficult issues” (Crooke, 2010, 120). This fear of engaging with sensitive material is a real concern for the heritage of Northern Ireland. Crooke notes that there are differing opinions on how material and images of ‘The Troubles’ should be presented. On the one hand, it is a reasonable decision to provide minimal interpretation of material, allowing people to make up their own minds regarding the matter; this, in the right context, has the potential for success. Access provided at sites with an educational agenda can help towards
fostering understanding between two opposing communities. The other option favours
“exhibitions that explore the contradictions, paradoxes and myths of our history and identity” (Crooke, 2006, 133). This is a more direct approach for engaging with difficult events in a nation’s history and more susceptible to public backlash, as any hint that the agenda is swaying in favour of one side or the other can further aggravate the situation.
The DFA collection features many examples of material from, and surrounding, ‘The Troubles’. These include news features on political events and documentation of everyday life. Searching the catalogue offers an insight into how the DFA wishes to present this period of history. Although some of the footage encompasses a wide view of events, there are many examples of personal stories, detailing the everyday realities of living in a conflict zone. The ‘Super 8 Stories’ of the collection, feature recordings from the early days of ‘The Troubles’ captured by various amateur filmmakers. This footage provides a local perspective on events; one particular example from filmmaker Gordon McKnight shows “the first days of the Troubles in Belfast in 1969 and his attempts to capture what was happening with his camera, unsuspecting that the events would be continuing for many years to come”
(“Super 8 Stories”, Web). Other films such as Going to School in Belfast, which shows children on their way to school passing armed British soldiers, depict day-to- day life against the backdrop of conflict. These examples are more relatable for the public than some of the more general overviews of ‘The Troubles’ and, with these events greatly influencing the shape and character of society, they become crucial documents for Northern Ireland’s identity.
3.4 Conclusions
This chapter has established the DFA as an important addition to the cultural heritage sector of Northern Ireland. Although my focus predominantly touched upon aspects of the collection that deal with the traumatic events of the nation’s history, there is much more to Northern Ireland, and the DFA than this. Of course, the violence and unrest is a continual point for examination in any history of Ireland but, as with the collections of the IFI, SSArc, and NSSAW, the DFA aims to gather a diverse assortment of records, on a wide range of subjects. Some of the notable events include footage of the Titanic leaving Belfast for Southampton, an interview with the Rolling Stones, and a Presidential visit from Bill Clinton. In dealing with the issues of a divided society and a difficult heritage, the DFA presents the good with the bad. I propose that the contested nature of heritage in Northern Ireland is the biggest obstacle facing the creation of a common identity. If this is true, then the DFA’s inclusion of local amateur films presents a humanised perspective of the traumatic events of Northern Ireland’s past.
