We are very pleased to have received this piece from Peter Saunders, Director of Salisbury and South Wilts Museum for thirty years and Curator Emeritus. And one of us – a Volunteer!
A few personal reflections by Peter Saunders
Father’s Day fell this year on June 21, a day often claimed by the Summer Solstice, but I’m not inclined to celebrate that day as it’s always a reminder of the day my daughter died. However, this year was different as it carried landmark significance for me: it was on that day in 1970, 50 years ago, that my association with Salisbury Museum began. I arrived in Salisbury to take up appointment as Assistant Curator and the following day was welcomed by the chairman, Cyril Trotman (whose deafness only became apparent when I realised he’d not heard a word I’d said) in the absence of the Curator, Hugh Shortt, who was hospitalized having a leg amputated – not an auspicious beginning! Later, incidentally, when we were joined by a one-legged finance officer, he would joke that there couldn’t be many museums with two members of staff with only two legs to stand on!
It was an interesting first five years: it saw slow progress towards locating suitable premises to enable the Museum to relocate within the city, given a spur by the acquisition of the Wessex collection from the Museum of General Pitt-Rivers at Farnham in Dorset, the first collection as opposed to individual objects to be accepted by The Treasury in lieu of death duties. Salisbury, too, was providing good reason not to choose career advancement elsewhere: here I met my future wife and after Hugh Shortt’s death in 1975 I became the Museum’s Curator, only the fifth since 1860! Subsequently the post was retitled Director. After retirement in 2007, having been the longest ever continuously-serving head of the institution, I failed to escape entirely, becoming its first Curator Emeritus, offering collection support and advice in an honorary capacity – and so here today as a volunteer.
Museums are defined by their collections and during my time running Salisbury’s there were many acquisition highlights. A continuous flow of archaeological objects of all periods boosted the Museum’s claim to Designated status, confirming its collections as being of national significance: it was particularly gratifying that the British Museum was later to show its confidence in Salisbury by forgoing its prerogative right to the Amesbury Archer finds, the largest collection of artefacts from an early Bronze Age burial, including the earliest known gold objects ever found in England. Beyond the Museum’s archaeological renown, it was an especial delight to have been able to strengthen its art-based collections: pictures, for example, by JMW Turner watercolours of Stonehenge and of Salisbury from Old Sarum; ceramics, by the Brixie Jarvis Wedgwood collection; and costume, by for example the 1812 uniform of Captain John Swayne (the first costume in the country to attract a National Art Collection Fund grant).
Moving the Museum from its cramped, decaying quarters in St Ann Street in 1981 was the greatest challenge I faced over the years: in the 1970s plans had been drawn up to occupy the Town Mill and part of the Maltings but this venture proved impractical and The Close beckoned. It was a daunting task: raising funds before the advent of the National Lottery and with minimal staff, looking back, I’m not sure how we did it. I particularly recall the relief we felt when the final objects made it safely across the city to the King’s House in 1981 and the largest exhibit, the Salisbury Giant, together with the Downton fire-engine were installed (a wall had to be taken down and rebuilt that day to allow their access). It was the Giant’s and Hob Nob’s last breath of fresh air – I had last taken them to the Guildhall Square in 1977 for the Queen’s Silver Jubilee, where yours truly manipulated Hob Nob in a merry dance. Some 30 years later I well remember being filmed – claustrophobically – inside the Giant to demonstrate his construction and mode of carrying! They join the medieval walrus ivory chess king from the ‘Drainage’ collection as being among my most favoured objects.
Relocation of the Museum allowed galleries to be designed, professionally for the first time, by leading museum designers Robin Wade and Pat Read, both a joy to work with and who created galleries that won awards, notably a Museum of the Year award in 1985. It also enabled many temporary exhibitions to be held, Cats being the most memorable to me for its extraordinarily wide appeal and the popularity of its related events, were enlivened by the likes of Johnny Morris, Bernard Cribbens and Beryl Reid. The Father and Son: Engraved glass by Laurence and Simon Whistler exhibition, too, stood out for me – magical.
Publications, either popular monographs relating to the collections or in academic journals, were seen as a way of extending knowledge beyond the four walls of the Museum, particularly before the rise of the internet. A source of some pride are the four volumes of the Salisbury Museum Medieval Catalogue, published between 1990 and 2012 and, as far as I know, the only comprehensive catalogue of any provincial museum’s complete medieval collection. That so many scholars gave their time and expertise freely to help bring this to fruition is recognition of how nationally significant our medieval collection is and also a tribute to Hugh Shortt, who first conceived the project, and my late wife, Eleanor, who acted as its research assistant for some years.
Of course, I was blessed to have worked with many devoted staff, volunteers and well-wishers throughout those years, ranging from brilliant chairmen who guided the Museum through turbulent times, benefactors who made costly acquisitions possible, staff who worked throughout the night to meet a gallery opening deadline, through to an assistant who set fire the photographic studio and the volunteer who worked her socks off but couldn’t park her Mini without backing it across the lawn! To spare the modesty of the good and the blushes of the less well-behaved, it’s best if they all remain un-named.
And what has 50 years taught? That every object, however humble or precious, tells a story; that collections are never complete, the job never done; that museums are forever cash-poor; that curators are merely custodians passing on the tangible means by which the past may be interpreted by each new generation; that museums must move with the times; that directing them is a constant challenge. But there is no other profession I would rather have embarked upon. Curatorship satisfies one’s curiosity, desire to acquire things and brings delight in the sharing of knowledge It has provided opportunities to admire and handle so many rare treasures and to engage with a wonderful range of people: academics researching collections, children marvelling at holding a real prehistoric axe thousands of years old, the postman who dug up a medieval gold ring on his Salisbury allotment and was about to throw his ‘curtain-ring’ away, ministers of state and royalty, and especially the visitors, volunteers and members without whom the Museum would have been unable to thrive.
Reminiscing over such a breadth of time emphasises how the highs always more than outweigh the lows: major acquisitions, awards won, national recognition, even survival against the odds, have long proven that Salisbury Museum is able to punch above its weight, more than overcoming failed auction bids, thefts, floods, grant disappointments and loss of key personnel.
The Salisbury Museum Volunteer Blog 