When people ask me what they shouldn’t miss in the Louvre, after I’ve been talking and talking about the importance of museums in democracy and creativity, I always tell them: do not miss Mesopotamia and Egypt. Do not!
They are usually confused, as they assume that I will tell them to go and see Delacroix and David, and I doubt that they ever reach this fascinating part of the proof material on the need of humans to create (for this or that reason). I am aware, the Museum is too big, and there is only so much time you can spend inside. Paris, after all, is waiting for you.
But there is someone who spends a lot of time around and inside the Louvre, and whose work I have been following since the beginning of the year, during my visit to an expo on Mummies in Barcelona. Dr. Angela Stienne is an Egyptologist who especially cares about the mummies and how they are treated. She is behind a couple of fascinating projects, founder of the Lyme museum (anybody else afraid of ticks?) and the author of a book called Mummified. Angela spends a lot of time in Paris, and I found her work incredibly interesting. I hope that you will as well. So yes, she is a perfect choice for the next interview of the series.
Hi Angela, thank you for telling us about your work and passions!
How do you introduce yourself? Who is Angela today, who was Angela 20 years ago?
20 years ago, I was just 12, and I had stumbled upon the study of the ancient past, especially ancient Egypt, and it engulfed me. I was passionate, I was obstinate, I had big dreams, but I was also a little lost, and looking for belonging. 20 years later, I am similar in that I have learned to fight to follow my dreams, to remain tenacious, and I am still looking for belonging, but I have developed and grew communities, online and in-person, that have strengthened my belief that connection and emotion are key. Today, I’m a writer, a practice-based researcher, a speaker, a community-builder, and a storyteller, and I think she would’ve loved that.
Like many, I’m on a path to reconnect with my inner child, and every time I get to sign a copy of my book, she’s dancing a little! Today, I’m trying to explore what the next twenty years look like, and my focus is: how do we harness the power of community and conversations to make this world more emotional and more ethical? I like exploring modes that challenge how we do things. My work is about museums, bodies, and ethics; what makes us human.
Can you tell us how you became an Egyptologist?
It was a journey: at 18, I applied to study Egyptology in London and before I realized what was happening, I was carrying a heavy suitcase down Euston Road and heading to University College London. I spent three years there studying Egyptology and realized what I wanted to do was not ancient history, but public history and museum studies. I moved to Leicester to do an MA and a PhD in Museum Studies, and then a postdoc at the Science Museum in London. I did all my dissertations on the display of Egyptian mummified bodies in museums – it’s been ten years doing this work! I’ve had wonderful supervisors who encouraged me to look outside of my own discipline. I’d say to become an Egyptologist, spend less time in Egyptology! No discipline is ever constructed in a vacuum, neither does it operate in a neutral world. And if there’s an institution that’s not neutral, it’s the museum!
What was the most fascinating moment through all your years of research?
One of the most impressive and meaningful moment was getting to spend time in the human remains storage of the Science Museum in London. It’s a highly restricted space; I spent a lot of time opening obstructed cases and coming face to face with human remains stored there. The Science Museum has over a thousand bodies, from skeletons, to mummified bodies, human tissues, hair, heads – a lot of heads, in fact – and many of those bodies were displaced in contexts deeply rooted in power imbalance. Spending time there, sitting in a quiet room with gloves on, with the heavy weight of the historical past inhabiting the space: it reminded me of why I do this work. It was meaningful, but also overwhelming. A thousand bodies in a single room. A museum graveyard.
Is it inappropriate to ask you which is your favourite mummy? Mummies are people so I imagine you do get attached to some more than the others? Maybe I am wrong.
The caveat is to always think of them as people, and to keep in mind the historical contexts that allow us to encounter them in the first place. This perspective was really the framework for my first meeting with a mummy which happened, you guessed it, at the Musée du Louvre. Pacheri is the only mummified person on display in the Pharaonic section of the Musée du Louvre. He’s been on display for 200 years, since the very first day of the opening of the Egyptian galleries, and he is the very reason I started to do this work. I couldn’t understand why he was behind a glass case, and why individuals engaged with him so differently to how I felt, knocking on cases, for example. He’s the leitmotiv in my book, because the essence of my work has always been: what can we do about this historical displacement, can we improve display in a way that’s ever going to be ethical, but also how can I share the message with the public that he’s a person, not a mythical creature; at the heart of engagements that can seem a little odd, or a little disrespectful, is a lack of communication and connection.
Is Paris the best place to continue your research and have important conversations, like decolonization and to whom remains actually belong?
For a long time, I didn’t feel that it was the right place. This is changing, thanks to people talking about the important, complicated topics, here in France, and often in the English language. For example, this week I’ve been listening to Lindsey Tramuta’s podcast series on the Fashion Week, and what a great example of engagement about France’s colonial history, how it’s not in the past, but very much has implications in the present time! So yes, it is the right place to have those conversations today; I hope you’ll join me! There is this persisting anxiety that we, researchers, practitioners, speakers, that engage with those questions, are here to damage the image of France and its culture. But really, we are here to complete an incomplete image. I won’t tell you not to go to the Louvre, that would be very vain, because I go there all the time. But I want you to leave with a picture that’s a lot more complete, and yes it might make you uncomfortable, but then that’s how we become more emotional, ethical people.
What are your favorite places inside the Louvre? When not in the Louvre, where in Paris can we find you?
Can I say the café? There is a rooftop that I like to return to, to gain perspective. Metaphorically, I like to think there about what I’m doing with my research, but also: the view! Outside of the Louvre, I am often in the Galerie Vivienne and the Jardin du Palais Royal, I like to get a coffee to go and wander there. Recently, I got a reader card for the BNF Richelieu and the research library of the INHA and I am going to spend quite a lot of time there to work on my next book, but also because there is so much history in that area. Is there a Mummy Stories narrative there? Of course, there always is!
What does a day in the life of an Egyptologist look like? I find this fascinating as we often have different ideas about how it actually looks.
I think most people equate Egyptologist with archaeologist. I’m a museum researcher, a historian, a writer, a practitioner, a licensed tour guide, a lecturer, a public speaker, and a community builder; but one thing I am not is an archaeologist! As an independent researcher, I spend a lot of time in cafés writing book proposals, interviews, press releases, proposals, and updating the websites for my projects, Mummy Stories and The Lyme Museum. It can seem isolating, but I also lead tours and give online talks, and engage in conversations with other researchers; the risk is to live in our own bubble. I’ve been an advocate for communication and community-building because I believe that our work as researchers only matters if it’s embedded in the real world; we need to engage with people, instead of talking at them, and we need an awareness of what’s happening in the world at large.
You also single-handedly lead two projects beside the Mummy Story project: the Lyme Museum and the Museum Takeover. When you are a museum expert, you have the power to tell the world about burning questions. Can you tell us the best and worst parts of working on these projects?
I created and run two digital projects. The first one, Mummy Stories (mummystories.com), is about human remains in museums and does something quite unique in that it looks at making ethics conversations accessible. The second one, The Lyme Museum (thelymemuseum.org), is the only museum that explores the lived experience of invisible illnesses and disabilities through materiality. Both projects have in common that they are community-oriented, that they focus on giving people a voice and agency, and that they are challenging normative conversations on which bodies have value.
The best part of doing this work is that I get to have important conversations with people around the world, and I get to engage with individuals who felt like these conversations weren’t for them: either that they didn’t have the authority or the permission to engage with the discussions, or that they had not felt represented and valued in the museum space. We have to keep in mind that the museum has had this historical role of deciding who matters and who does not, which bodies are valid, or deviant, and the anthropological and the medical museums have a lot to answer in terms of representation, but so do big archaeological collections in places like the Musée du Louvre or the British Museum, that were built as symbols of power and control. My work is to create adjacent spaces that challenge those established narratives. It’s a privilege, and also a lot of responsibility; it is not easy to change the museum as an institution, but we have made incredible stride towards changing the narrative!
How can we support them?
Working in the cultural sector, and especially on socially engaged projects as an independent researcher is challenging at times; and really fulfilling when the conversations lead to more connections and collaborations. The simplest way to support my work is to share it so it reaches institutions and individuals who have both the means and the interest to support it and to amplify it on a financial level. You can also support my work by joining the conversation: buy purchasing my book Mummified (I have signed copies that I ship worldwide), and by booking one of my tours in Paris, or one of my talks online. They are all accessible, and we will have thoughtful, engaged exchanges. You’ll see Paris differently, and we almost certainly will stop for a coffee! I believe in emotional conversations, and I don’t believe that there are wrong questions: curiosity is the best trait to approach difficult or challenging conversations. You can ask me about the aliens; you might just not like my answer!
You can book my bespoke tours and my online classes on mummystories.com
What feels challenging at the moment?
Belonging. I have been moving a lot for the past 13 years, and I had pictured myself staying in England. I am very aware of my privilege to have a place to fall back when life got complicated, and especially when this place is Paris and its region! But I left when I was 19, and the cultural world here feels a lot different and a lot more codified than it was in the UK. But what is a challenge is also an opportunity to reinvent myself, to create new communities, and to have new conversations. When I first moved to London at 19, I knew no one, and spoke little English, and after a few years, it very much felt like home; I’m on that journey, once more!
What are you excited about?
Writing and collaboration! I have been having the most meaningful conversations as part of a collaboration with a colleague on the other side of the world, and it has led to expansive and life affirming conversations (about death!) but also has reminded of the power of digital engagement. We often think of online conversations as less than, but the past year in both my personal and professional life has really brought to light the value and potential of conversations and collaborations that tak place online: from a coffee shop, a rooftop, early in the morning – it’s been joyful! I have started writing again, working on academic publications and a new book proposal, and it has brought me back to my roots as a writer. I’m especially excited to write about Paris and to explore the city with new eyes.
Quick Questions:
🖼️ Favorite art piece in the Louvre?
If I take you outside of the Egyptian department (it happens!), then my favorite pieces are from Mesopotamia – if I had to study a different ancient culture and especially a different art history, I would do that without hesitation. I was lucky to spend many hours, during my undergraduate in London, wandering the Assyrian rooms at the British Museum. I concur your initial comment that one must visit ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia at the Louvre!
📖 Favorite book on museum experiences that would teach us how we can be better visitors?
Without hesitation: The Whole Picture by Alice Procter. I met Alice in Leicester where I was living then, and she is such a great leader on how to take risks. I have a lot of respect for change leaders in the cultural field, because it is a lot easier to conform from a professional but also a personal point of view. It’s the safe thing to do. I am always inspired by people, especially young researchers, that have the guts to tell museums that their practice is unethical, but also that work hard to talk to the public and to produce accessible and thought-provoking engagements, such as The Uncomfortable Art Tours.
☝️The best-kept secret of the Louvre?
I’m not sure if it’s a secret, but many people do not know that the Jardin des Tuileries is part of the Musée du Louvre. It is full of sculptures and an open museum itself, but what I love about this fact is that you have the Egyptian galleries at one end of the museum, and the obelisk at the other end of the garden, really framing this grouping. The Egyptian department was opened by Jean François Champollion, and the obelisk was a diplomatic gift celebrating Champollion’s work in Egyptology, and they now mirror one another. I like taking groups on a walk through the garden to talk about the history of Egyptology: taking the stories outdoors, and a reminder that we can have those conversations outside the (fee-paid) doors of the museum. Those stories happen elsewhere, too, and that’s where I like to be, at the margins, a step out of the door.
Thanks Angela! I am always delighted to hear other people perspectives, really nice chatting to you!
I hope that you all enjoyed reading this and don’t forget to order Angela’s book!
*all the photos are taken from Angela’s instagram if not stated differently