Capital Culture- Part I

One of the oldest methodological strategies in art history has been comparative analysis. You probably remember being in a dark stuffy classroom at one point in your life, under the auspices of a professor armed with a lectern and two duelling slide projectors. Chances are this fed into the exams you had to take. “Compare and contrast slide A vs. slide B” or something like that. It can be a very powerful tool for teasing out contextual, formal and symbolic difference that might otherwise be occluded by looking solely at a singular image. What I have in mind for this piece, however, is a little more irreverent.

You see, sometimes these contrasts are presented to us skillfully by curators and scholars attempting to make you think. Other times we stumble into illuminating parallels by chance, perhaps when free associating by Google image search, or maybe even the chance configuration of a newspaper. In my case I can’t claim to be so dispassionate. I spent last summer working in Washington D.C., which begs comparison with our own capital Ottawa in an antagonistically-minded trilingual “mano-a-main-a-fisticuff” showdown. I’m interested in testing how the visual and cultural landscapes of these respective capitals might illuminate our distinct values and histories. Oh, and there are certainly bragging rights to be earned.

Points will be tallied, barbs will be exchanged, and feelings may possibly be hurt in this two-part competition of capital cities. Whose national architecture, visual culture and iconography will rein supreme? I have developed six (un)highly calibrated and (non)objective tests to determine the victor.

1) Architecture and the Politics of Style

The battle of the capitals pits Canada’s Neogothic Parliament Hill against Washington’s Neoclassical Capitol building. Each a reiteration of an older sentiment, the Neoclassical sought to invoke the rational order of the Greek and Roman traditions while the Gothic Revival rejected these sentiments in taking its inspiration from the more mystical aesthetics of medieval spirituality.

America’s Capitol Building, with its marble stone, pillars and allegorical pediments, seems to harken to the origins of democracy: a time of philosophical reflection and jurisprudence. Of course, this was also the same period of slavery, unchecked military expansion, and civil war. We tend to look at the classical period through rose tinted glasses, though the cynic in me wonders if the seedy side of history isn’t equally as reflective of America’s ambitions. If the Greek temple is the form from which Congress takes shape, then it begs the question

Parliament Hill, on the other hand, has the appearance of an elongated cathedral. Finished in 1926, its current iteration features the familiar green copper roof and browning limestone. We seem quite fond of these marks of age, whereas the Americans have buffed and polished their Congress building, continually renovating it since its inception in 1880. Perhaps our enthusiasm for patinas and soot speaks to the Canadian anxiety surrounding our youth. America, conversely, seems to project the image of eternity.

The religious connotations of a Neogothic Parliament sit uneasily with its location in the secular present. Sacred forms and materials abound. The senate chamber actually has stain-glass, the Peace Tower has carillon bells, and the Hall of Honour’s vaulted ceilings further lend an ecclesiastical mood. This gets carried to some somber lengths when distinguished figures such as the late Pierre Trudeau or the Unknown Soldier are laid to rest momentarily in the building. If our parliament means to emulate a church, then the precise location of values and power remain uncertain, even as we go through the motions of the familiar religious ceremonies.

Points: The USA gets nothing for its uncritical celebration of an imagined classical past. Canada also comes up short on account of being kinda creepy.

USA 0 Canada 0

2) Cultural Capital and Accessibility

Owing to the increased risk of danger to the American government one’s access to the capital grounds is immediately negotiated via a team of gruff looking security guards (soldiers? mercenaries?) that patrol the perimeter of the building with menacing looking rifles. They will hassle you if you try to approach the steps of the building. Barricades have been erected along the roads with security check points at certain intervals. Foot traffic is monitored, videotaped, and told to keep off the lawn.

Actually getting into the building compounds these barriers to access. Most visitors are directed to the Capital Visitors Centre where, after being subject to an x-ray and metal detector, they can enjoy the fruits of several gift shops, a café and an interactive media display, all underground in what appears to be a smartly decorated bunker. Entering the actual Congress building is even more difficult. Arrangements need to be made through one’s congressmen months ahead of time. If you are an international like me, lacking in that department, tours can be booked remotely- though there was also a month long waiting list when I tried. At this point I decided that Congress was stupid and elected not to make the attempt to visit, being vaguely worried that my attempt to shoplift gum at the age of 6 had flagged me as an international radical.

Meanwhile, back in Canada, there is perhaps something comfortably dingy about Parliament Hill that inspires familiarity instead of fear. The lawn looks a bit mangy, the sidewalks are cracked, and I did not succeed in spotting a single cop out on the grounds (except for the ones in the silly hats having parades). Instead of being greeted by the embodiment of a gun, sunglasses and a frown, there are hosts of skinny bilingual students in funny outfits waiting at the footsteps of Parliament to entice visitors inside. You do have to go through airport-esque security to enter the building but you are allowed to bring in various sundries the Americans regard as accessories to terrorism. These include empty plastic bottles, strollers and large backpacks. I guess moms and extremists look a lot alike.

We Canadians seem to take ourselves far less seriously. Summer evenings feature Mosaika: a video projection show on the central block done in both official languages. It invites crowds of a few hundred to sit on the grass, listen to the Arcade Fire, and watch bright colourful lights play across the government’s seat of power. It’s refreshingly irreverent.

Points: Canada’s the clear victor here. Maybe the odds are stacked in our flavor for not inspiring a slew of terrorist plots against us. But hey, let’s enjoy what we’ve got.

USA 0 Canada 1

3) Representation of Diversity

Both capitals seem to come up short in this category. The National Mall in DC (this being the grassy promenade leading from the Lincoln Memorial to Congress) is full of commemorative monuments and plaques- all of whom belong to dead white men. This will change with the construction of the Martin Luther King Memorial, but as it stands the vision of that is history presented there remains almost entirely white-washed and gendered.

Additionally, while I can’t speak to the interiors of any of the government buildings in the States (on account of the guards and difficult entry requirements) my attempts to digitally view any representations of minority groups wasn’t very successful, particularly in hopes of finding any appearances of First Nations peoples who weren’t cast as the helpful supplicants of the Pilgrims. The one exception was the Kamehameha Statue honouring a Hawaiian king. It’s not a great victory, however- the king’s facial features have been anglicized and the statue was kept in a dark corner until Obama won his presidential nomination. The National Museum of the American Indian is perhaps a recent attempt to address this lack of representation- and yet, cordoning off a collective of peoples and histories into a singular site speaks more to the segregation of history into chapters of “special interest” than the inclusive intertwining of colonial and colonized perspectives. Funny enough, the architect (Douglas Cardinal) hails from Ottawa.

On this front Canada comes marginally ahead, though our present efforts could be improved. A native sculptural program from the 70s wove aboriginal iconographies into unassuming corners of Parliament’s Central block, while First Nations symbols mix with European heraldry in the senate foyer. Iroquois and Huron portraits are included in the friezes of important pre-confederation leaders, even if they are largely absent from subsequent explorations of Canada’s national identity. More recently, the senate has aggressively collected some key works from contemporary First Nations artists. The irony is that they display these works in the The Aboriginal Peoples Committee Room wherein land claim disputes are agonized over in prolonged and unproductive negotiations. It seems a shame to recognize the distinct identities of Canada’s First Nations in a space where we continue to enact colonial legislation.

Points: A half point for Canada for covering some important ground early, but it doesn’t seem like that momentum has been sustained. We should endeavour to bring our self-presentation into accord with our actions. The United States, however, might need to do some sustained revisiting of their history to explore post-colonial perspectives on nationhood.

USA 0 Canada 1.5

Three criteria down and three more to go. Ottawa has inched ahead while Washington has fallen behind, but the race isn’t over yet. Come back next week for the last part of this compare and contrast analysis. In the meantime, let me know your take. What have been your experiences in either city? How would you rate Alberta or Edmonton by these criteria? What does national self-presentation mean to you?