In the course of my literature survey on commemoration, what drew my attention was the discussion of a newer genre of memory works that scholars have referred to as “counter- memorials,” as contrasted with traditional monuments. Typically, in the European tradition since the 19th century, public structures designed to evoke “collective
8 In the area now bounded by 10th Avenue and 8th Avenue, and 6th Street and 8th Street – now occupied by New Westminster Secondary School, a playing field/stadium, and Massey Theatre.
memory” have been associated with secular and political goals of nation-building and triumphant colonialism (Burk 2006a, 950). They use centralized public spaces to assert hegemonic national narratives that link the past (configured as victorious and heroic) to the present, while suppressing racialized, gendered, or otherwise unequal power relations (Norkunas 2002), or as Burk describes it, by simplifying, muting, or erasing the
“complex lived histories” that exist around them (Burk 2006a, 951). Monuments draw on an aesthetic vocabulary of permanent materials (e.g. stone, bronze, marble), placement high above viewers, visibility from a distance, and allegorical, idealized representations to impose a masterful narrative on public spaces. In doing so, they signify “not only what is important and noteworthy, but also what can be considered… uninteresting or
unimportant” (951) – what can be forgotten.
Counter-memorials, on the other hand, work to subvert and disrupt the heroic, hegemonic function of memorials by making suppressed history visible, addressing traumatic histories, and/or highlighting perspectives that have been excluded from dominant historical narratives (Burk 2003; Chivallon 2001; Lambert and Ochsner 2009; Opp and Walsh 2010). Counter-memorials achieve these ends by deploying different types of materials or design principles, or by placing traditionally permanent materials in non-traditional settings to evoke or provoke a response. Marita Sturken discusses two examples of counter-memorials that brought attention to suppressed or traumatic histories within the US – the AIDS quilt, and the unconventional Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, DC (Sturken 1997). A Vancouver example is the Marker of Change
mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, focused on the issue of women murdered by men. The intense and frequently vitriolic public responses to this monument’s creation is indicative of the degree to which its “counter-narrative” transgressed dominant public narratives regarding gender violence – particularly by naming the most frequent
perpetrators of violence against women. (For a nuanced discussion of the gender, class, and racial issues raised by the creation of this and two other Vancouver monuments, see Burk 2006b).
I began to interpret the WMG as something of a hybrid – drawing upon both traditional and disruptive aesthetics to combine the commemorative functions of a
cemetery and the historical intervention of a counter-memorial. While taking care to include the names of each person buried on the site (on 34 granite name plaques in addition to over 750 returned grave markers), the WMG privileges collective
commemoration by placing these identifiers in upright wall formations rather than by recreating the grid of individual burial plots. Though made with permanent materials, the memorial walls are sized at a human scale and integrated chronologically into a pathway that invites visitors into the landscaped setting. Water features are low to the ground, surrounded by benches, and contribute to a contemplative atmosphere, while the concrete and metal sculpture, The Window Too High, though visible from a distance, is evocative rather than allegorical, and acts as a material referent to the experience of institutional inmates. Brief interpretive panels around the site provide background on the cemetery and its origins, presenting, if not a full-on critique of institutionalization, at least a critique of the cemetery’s erasure and a call for social inclusion.9
In the literature focused on memory work and social justice, however, I encountered no instances of a counter-memorial addressing disability history, nor any recognition that designations of “disability,” and particularly categories of “mental fitness,” have generated histories of oppression, collective trauma, and systemic violation of rights (even while scholars of Mad history and the history of institutions for the
developmentally disabled have written extensively about this). And despite the growing public discourse in Canada about institutional abuse and unmarked or neglected
institutional burial grounds, public memorial sites that address disability as a significant social justice issue are rare indeed. Aside from the WMG, one innovative example of applying archival memory work to a physical site is the historical walking tours
conducted by Geoffrey Reaume at the former grounds of the Toronto asylum (currently
9 The Woodlands Memorial Garden was designed by Lees+Associates Landscape Architects, in
consultation with the WMG Steering Committee, which included provincial government representatives, community advocates, family members, and former Woodlands residents. Community representatives were actively involved in setting design principles and criteria for the memorial, in ongoing dialogue with the designers, and in developing interpretation materials. Community representatives spearheaded the restoration and reclamation of recovered gravestones, and regularly reported back to their community constituents to provide updates and seek feedback on the WMG design. On completion of the WMG, BCACL recognized Lees+Associates for their collaborative approach with a Community Partnership Award.
occupied by the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health), on the lives and unpaid labour of former asylum inmates (Reaume 2000; 2011). These tours incorporate commemoration and political activism by foregrounding the agency and contributions of former patients while engaging visitors in the history of institutionalization.10
In conceptualizing the WMG as a hybrid counter-memorial, I introduce a critical disability studies perspective to the field of memory work, commemoration, and counter- memorials. My study explores how such a memorial site may open the door to discourse about disability history and politics, and how it enables living relatives, through
storytelling, to elaborate on the intergenerational effects of institutionalization and to reintegrate into present-day narratives the lives of former patient/inmates who were erased. At the same time, however, my fieldwork raised the question as to whether the WMG was “readable” as a counter-memorial to relatives of those buried at the site (and others), and whether it served their commemorative needs. This is addressed in my concluding chapter.