The Haffenreffer Collection in Bristol, Rhode Island houses more than one million objects from diverse cultures and various countries, some bought and some stolen, all “collected”.  While objects in museums and collections remain problematic, the aim of this course has been to examine the nature and history of some of these objects as comprehensively as possible, and the object I have chosen is a specific Cree Jacket, labeled as 77-113C. I chose it early on in the class, before I felt myself really engage with the class material in a meaningful way.  It was an object that stood out to me because of its obvious white-settler influence through the embroidery and Western-military style, and I thought it would be the ideal item to examine under the circumstances of our class.  While I certainly am better equipped to write about objects in museums in general than I was in the beginning, that same information has brought me to the conclusion that I am lacking many tools to do this jacket justice.  In the end, I can only write about it with the limited knowledge my background and my research provides me, which I hope can provide a comprehensive and critical view of museums and collections with this object as the lens.
 

Of a Particular Style

The catalogue Out of the North by former Haffenreffer curator Barbara Hail, which records its composition and material and is the main source of information about the item, claims it is made of “smoked moose hide” with "silk thread in various shades" and “narrow commercial bead braid” (Hail 1989: 170).  When I visited the Haffenreffer on January 16, 2018, the object was laid out on a measuring table on butcher paper next to a Silver Horn painting.  The jacket was stuffed with sheets of tissue paper, and its sleeves were folded inwards with more paper between the sleeves and the jacket chest.  It gave off only barely a smell of leather, the material rough and mildly frayed.  Whether the weathering came from poor storage and transport or usage will also remain one of the mysteries surrounding this object.  The black and white picture in the book was a misleading representation of the light-brown and tan jacket, the embroidered colors were full of greens, blues, purples, pinks, reds, greys, and whites, still piercing with vibrancy despite the mild fading.  

This patterning is the defining feature of the jacket, which the book states is of “Norway House” style, Norway House being a fort and community maintained by the Hudson Bay Company in the 19th century on the north of Lake Winnipeg in Canada.  The indigenous people of the area were and are “Cree and Ojibwa-speaking” peoples, and their creations were heavily influenced by the trade and presence of settlers in the area during this time period (Hail 1989: 156).  Other than glass beads, there are records of the increased stocks of silk the Norway House storage kept in their inventories, bought and used by indigenous artists to create embroidery on clothing and objects.  Embroidery skills were taught to indigenous girls by missions schools, with teachers using European fabrics as inspiration, but “variations in motifs were developed and expanded upon [by the girls]… as they made the designs their own”, to the point where the book claims “rectilinear and curvilinear designs were indigenous” to this area in the North (Hail 1989: 153).

The embroidery on this particular jacket is very colorful, all depicting flowers and buds filled with curves.  As someone unfamiliar with patterns, I defer to Out of the North for a more accurate description.  The book calls the flowers “rosettes … with multi-lobed buds along a sinuous central stem with S-shaped leaves” and “narrow commercial bead braid[s]” lie on top of the pockets and cuffs (Hail 1989: 170).  It adheres to the label of “Norway House style” because of its dynamic and fluid patterns, where “expanded rosettes, serpentine composite leaves and small multi-lobed buds dominate” (Hail 1989: 168).  When I examined the object, the stitching stood out to me as very tight and neat, the work of someone at the very least practiced.

I do not want to dwell on descriptions, but research on these jackets and these designs consistently lead me to analysis of patterns and other physical characteristics; the catalogue and other sources focus on these, making it difficult to uncover information about the usage and collection process of this item.  In fact, there are no sources that mention how the Haffenreffer obtained the item either.  While Out of the North was written a century after Robert Colonna “collected” the object, even it does not address many of the concerns this biography is trying to examine, such as the nature of the exchange, leaving another substantial gap in the story of this object, this one in relation to its time in a settler collection.

This jacket also serves as an example of how Western settlers have played a fundamental role in shaping the culture and development of Native peoples.  Certain embroidery techniques and silk come from the direct manipulation of White settlers, through schools and trade, yet their presence in Cree creations almost seem standard and necessary, the narrative of colonial influence usually lost when discussing what is “traditional” and “authentic”.  The dynamic evolution of culture and art must be celebrated and remembered in order to prevent a static narrative when speaking of Native peoples, but the context under which this development took place is just as integral to a correct narrative.
 

Living History for a Living Object

We must also consider what else might be missing from a typical narrative, one such piece being the details of its “collection” process and history.  Out of the North lists the jacket as collected by a Robert Colonna in (c.)1930 from North Bay, Ontario. The particular background of this jacket is unclear; the collector’s name is listed as Robert Colonna but is a relative unknown, so mysterious, Curator Thierry Gentis told me he thought Robert was the brother of comedian Jerry Colonna, a fact ultimately false, though Jerry did have a brother named Robert. The makers and owners of this jacket are also unknown, origins given to the entire Cree Nation of Cree-Metis, though Curator Thierry did provide some information regarding the context and usage of this jacket.  He said the jacket was probably made in the late 19th-century, not used for everyday purposes or hunting.  Its elaborate decoration made it a piece of clothing worn when during special occasions like entering a village, trading, or celebrating.  During the time period it was collected in, these types of hide jackets were no longer worn, their clothing generally replaced by mass-produced items, and objects such as these became heirlooms meant to be hidden away or sold in trade.

This history of this type of jacket is supported by Native American Clothing by Theodore Brasser, which shows how this design might have spread and evolved.  As early 1656, jackets like these in the style of the white man’s coat and English hunting jacket began to appear in the Cree and neighboring Ojibwa territories, and they only became more popular, eventually adopting a more pronounced Western military style.  Cree-Metis who migrated from Manitoba brought the style with embroidery and frills to the Missouri River Dakota territory.  Their designs vary, however, this jacket has flower embroidery and few clear beads, while the oldest one has many beads and few frills, and the Dakota one has a little embroidery and many frills and beads, mostly on the back (Brasser 2009).  That is how experienced eyes can tell this Cree jacket is of Norway House style; every place during every time period had their own patterns and takes on the classic moose-skin jacket. The evolution of the jacket into an imitation of the Western military style displays the influence of the settlers on the design of these coats, a subtle acknowledgement of where power lay when this jacket was made.

What Robert Colonna saw in this jacket that made it worth collecting is integral to the narrative as well, as the history of this object does not end the moment it leaves indigenous hands.  But as is typical of many objects in museums, this part of the story missing, unworthy of being noted by professionals and amateurs alike during a time when preserving artifacts of “dying” and “vanishing” Indians was of utmost importance.  This is an object we can see as an example of cultural evolution, but whether or not Colonna saw it as that or as an “authentic” indigenous artifact we may never know.  In addition, Colonna acquired the object in North Bay, Ontario, one thousand miles away from Norway House, which makes the item even harder to trace, the story possibly being Colonna purchased the item from other traders instead of a Cree family or individual.

Since this jacket is a treasured item, one might be able to assume the family would have been unwilling to part with the it unless confronted with dire circumstances, sufficient monetary compensation, or both.  Even if some may claim the trade that ultimately led to the jacket leaving indigenous hands might have been equal in some terms, the stress the indigenous communities were under during this time meant the scales were always tipped to the side of the white trader, and the lack of information leaves much to be desired, a common narrative amongst most objects sitting in collections, all with insufficient documentation.  


We as outsiders should not think to impose an anthropological view, as if it truly belonged to the museum, over the indigenous voices and history that cannot be detached from it.  This biography only looks at the object from a very narrow lens and does not seek to supplant a vision and story that could be written by its owners, makers, or descendents of either.  The lack of an emphasis on human interactions surrounding the objects is very much evidence of a colonial point of view ingrained in the structure, and without a way to regain much of the lost history, perhaps the present is what must be focused on, starting with repatriation. Ultimately, the situation is convoluted to the point where a just action such as repatriation would be difficult, as the politics surrounding the return of an object with ambiguous owners raises even more issues. This Cree jacket, a symbol of evolution and lost history for the Cree people, continues to add to its story, though these new additions are difficult to complete and full of confusion as a result of the past.