Dr Livingstone, I Presume?, which marks 200 years since David Livingstone’s birth in Blantyre, Scotland, brings together an impressive range of objects.
Items such as an antelope’s horn, fragments of a hippopotamus’s jaw, a customised Muzzleloader gun and arm bones deformed by a lion attack are not only fascinating in themselves but have direct connections with the 19th-century explorer.
This chronological exhibition starts really well: it’s multisensory, theatrical and immersive.
Visitors first pass an 1874 billboard advertisement for a lecture about Livingstone’s African adventures that hangs outside the exhibition entrance (and contains choice expressions – “Encounter with a lion; Harpooning a hippopotamus…”).
They then cross the threshold into the gallery where a captivating film immediately introduces the far-distant wilderness of Livingstone’s Africa and contrasts this with up-to-date footage of modern Blantyre in Malawi.
The first object visitors see is Malcolm Stewart’s portrait of the explorer, which is above a giant reproduction of a map that contextualises Livingstone’s 20 years of expeditions through Africa.
Sound bleed from the film – voices of Scots and Malawians and evocative tribal songs – has a superb effect, breathing life into the portrait.
A backlit curving sail to the left contains a Livingstone quote: “I am prepared to go anywhere, provided it be forward.”
Visitors are then pointed in the direction of a dazzling display in which Livingstone’s metal travelling trunk sits in a period vitrine in front of a wall graphic of Thomas Baines’s stunning panoramic view of the Victoria Falls, Zambesi.
The power of this grouping is enhanced by wall text – another vivid quote from Livingstone in which he remarks on “a life of toil”, as personified by his heavy trunk, punctuated by myriad scrapes, dents and rusted corners.
A small graphic provides more evidence of the trunk’s life in an illustration of it with two African “faithful followers”. From this point on, the exhibition moves into a brightly lit, compact and uniform space.
This is at odds with the early experiential presentation, which not only showed the effective interrelationship between object, interpretation and design, but also created a suitable atmosphere and hinted that there would be further dramatic displays.
While I was admiring some of the items Livingstone collected during the Zambesi expedition, namely two fire-making sticks and a section of heavy hunting net used to capture zebras and antelopes, two boys aged about nine or 10 approached the case.
They scanned the objects but promptly left uninterested. Merely placing objects on glass shelves with dryly written captions is not enough. Sometimes providing context is critical for accessibility.
Later on, looking at another of Baines’s sublime paintings, Herd of Buffalo opposite Garden Island, Victoria Falls, I was joined by a group of late teens, one of whom excitedly asked her companions: “Is that the waterfall where Sherlock Holmes died?”
This was definite engagement brought about by an association with drama, but the group coasted by the interpretation.
While recognising the significance of this audience visiting museums, I fear this new generation may have missed the exhibition’s particular riches.
Some areas of the exhibition highlight Livingstone’s contemporary and posthumous position as a saintly hero. To the display’s credit, its interpretation attempts to challenge this, albeit in a subtle way.
In a panel introducing John Kirk, Livingstone’s chief assistant on the Zambesi expedition, (whose enchanting watercolour studies are on display), it comments that he was exasperated by Livingstone.
In so doing, it shows Livingstone’s true warts-and-all personality, rather than perpetuate a mythical portrayal of the explorer.
The exhibition features many standalone themed sections, (such as First Journeys, Cotton and Trade, Livingstone’s Last Travels), together with curving horizontal banners depicting enlarged imagery, including a watercolour of expedition boat Ma Roberts.
Nevertheless, at times the design and layout of interpretation felt too regimented, to the extent that some of the objects are overwhelmed. An iron slave-chain collected by Livingstone is displayed on a plain shelf in the slavery section.
Its true raw power would simply be missed if one overlooked the final caption of the vertical text panel. It isn’t just Livingstone’s own first-hand account quoted here which makes it so moving, when he describes human trafficking as “this open sore upon the world”, it is the realisation that its collar size was small enough to fit a child slave.
Having said this, the exhibition’s purist, almost minimal approach, seemed to be well received by the majority of visitors (most appeared to be over 40 years old) who were greatly absorbed by content.
One of the benefits of presenting objects with such equality is that it avoids hierarchical object groupings, which enables visitors to experience each on their own merits.
And while I would have liked just one or two more displays with the same immersive qualities as the introduction, I was glad the exhibition avoided using set-dressing and props. Such measures would have distracted from the objects and their significant provenance.
But more dynamic interpretation could still have been employed to convey the incredible stories of some of the objects.
It was touching to see the modest Polyglott Bible and discover it was Mary Moffat’s wedding present to husband Livingstone; but the caption’s passive transcript of her dedication did not bring it to life – to have read, or heard, more of the words exchanged between the couple would have energised it.
One of this exhibition’s successes is in its references to modern-day Malawi and the seeds that Livingstone sowed centuries ago.
In tandem with the final section, Livingstone’s Legacy, which features clips from Hollywood films, an adventure board-game, postage stamps and a recent £10 banknote, Dr Livingstone brings the legacy of the “missionary-explorer” into the present, making it tangible and relevant.
Neil Johnson-Symington is a curator, transport and technology, at Glasgow Museums
Items such as an antelope’s horn, fragments of a hippopotamus’s jaw, a customised Muzzleloader gun and arm bones deformed by a lion attack are not only fascinating in themselves but have direct connections with the 19th-century explorer.
This chronological exhibition starts really well: it’s multisensory, theatrical and immersive.
Visitors first pass an 1874 billboard advertisement for a lecture about Livingstone’s African adventures that hangs outside the exhibition entrance (and contains choice expressions – “Encounter with a lion; Harpooning a hippopotamus…”).
They then cross the threshold into the gallery where a captivating film immediately introduces the far-distant wilderness of Livingstone’s Africa and contrasts this with up-to-date footage of modern Blantyre in Malawi.
The first object visitors see is Malcolm Stewart’s portrait of the explorer, which is above a giant reproduction of a map that contextualises Livingstone’s 20 years of expeditions through Africa.
Sound bleed from the film – voices of Scots and Malawians and evocative tribal songs – has a superb effect, breathing life into the portrait.
A backlit curving sail to the left contains a Livingstone quote: “I am prepared to go anywhere, provided it be forward.”
Visitors are then pointed in the direction of a dazzling display in which Livingstone’s metal travelling trunk sits in a period vitrine in front of a wall graphic of Thomas Baines’s stunning panoramic view of the Victoria Falls, Zambesi.
The power of this grouping is enhanced by wall text – another vivid quote from Livingstone in which he remarks on “a life of toil”, as personified by his heavy trunk, punctuated by myriad scrapes, dents and rusted corners.
A small graphic provides more evidence of the trunk’s life in an illustration of it with two African “faithful followers”. From this point on, the exhibition moves into a brightly lit, compact and uniform space.
This is at odds with the early experiential presentation, which not only showed the effective interrelationship between object, interpretation and design, but also created a suitable atmosphere and hinted that there would be further dramatic displays.
While I was admiring some of the items Livingstone collected during the Zambesi expedition, namely two fire-making sticks and a section of heavy hunting net used to capture zebras and antelopes, two boys aged about nine or 10 approached the case.
They scanned the objects but promptly left uninterested. Merely placing objects on glass shelves with dryly written captions is not enough. Sometimes providing context is critical for accessibility.
Later on, looking at another of Baines’s sublime paintings, Herd of Buffalo opposite Garden Island, Victoria Falls, I was joined by a group of late teens, one of whom excitedly asked her companions: “Is that the waterfall where Sherlock Holmes died?”
This was definite engagement brought about by an association with drama, but the group coasted by the interpretation.
While recognising the significance of this audience visiting museums, I fear this new generation may have missed the exhibition’s particular riches.
Some areas of the exhibition highlight Livingstone’s contemporary and posthumous position as a saintly hero. To the display’s credit, its interpretation attempts to challenge this, albeit in a subtle way.
In a panel introducing John Kirk, Livingstone’s chief assistant on the Zambesi expedition, (whose enchanting watercolour studies are on display), it comments that he was exasperated by Livingstone.
In so doing, it shows Livingstone’s true warts-and-all personality, rather than perpetuate a mythical portrayal of the explorer.
The exhibition features many standalone themed sections, (such as First Journeys, Cotton and Trade, Livingstone’s Last Travels), together with curving horizontal banners depicting enlarged imagery, including a watercolour of expedition boat Ma Roberts.
Nevertheless, at times the design and layout of interpretation felt too regimented, to the extent that some of the objects are overwhelmed. An iron slave-chain collected by Livingstone is displayed on a plain shelf in the slavery section.
Its true raw power would simply be missed if one overlooked the final caption of the vertical text panel. It isn’t just Livingstone’s own first-hand account quoted here which makes it so moving, when he describes human trafficking as “this open sore upon the world”, it is the realisation that its collar size was small enough to fit a child slave.
Having said this, the exhibition’s purist, almost minimal approach, seemed to be well received by the majority of visitors (most appeared to be over 40 years old) who were greatly absorbed by content.
One of the benefits of presenting objects with such equality is that it avoids hierarchical object groupings, which enables visitors to experience each on their own merits.
And while I would have liked just one or two more displays with the same immersive qualities as the introduction, I was glad the exhibition avoided using set-dressing and props. Such measures would have distracted from the objects and their significant provenance.
But more dynamic interpretation could still have been employed to convey the incredible stories of some of the objects.
It was touching to see the modest Polyglott Bible and discover it was Mary Moffat’s wedding present to husband Livingstone; but the caption’s passive transcript of her dedication did not bring it to life – to have read, or heard, more of the words exchanged between the couple would have energised it.
One of this exhibition’s successes is in its references to modern-day Malawi and the seeds that Livingstone sowed centuries ago.
In tandem with the final section, Livingstone’s Legacy, which features clips from Hollywood films, an adventure board-game, postage stamps and a recent £10 banknote, Dr Livingstone brings the legacy of the “missionary-explorer” into the present, making it tangible and relevant.
Neil Johnson-Symington is a curator, transport and technology, at Glasgow Museums
Project data
- Cost not disclosed
- Main funder in-house
- Partner Museums of Malawi
- Exhibition design in-house; Stuco
- Exhibition fit-out McRobb Display
- Object mounts Michael Kidd
- Audiovisuals Tigershark
- Lighting design Lex Burnhams
- Exhibition ends 7 April
