Why The Whyte Removed a Culturally Appropriative Carving from Its Grounds

whytemuseum
5 days ago
7 min read

By Emma De Sousa, Coordinator of Indigenous Relations

In March of 2025, change was in full swing at The Whyte. The galleries were deep in construction mode as we made way for the groundbreaking exhibition The Ancestors Are Talking: Paintings by the Indigenous Seven curated by Joseph Sanchez, Dawn Saunders Dahl, and Christina Cuthbertson. In a time of such incredible change towards more diverse, inclusive, and culturally respectful programming at The Whyte, something on the property was sitting uncomfortably with its employees. A 38-foot-tall carved pole standing amongst the trees in front of the building.

How could we mount an exhibition of seven phenomenal Indigenous artists who had to break through racial barriers to enter the contemporary Canadian art world, and claim a change in our attitudes and mission as an institution towards inclusivity and respect, when a piece of art appropriating the imagery of a totem pole and depicting caricatured Indigenous figures stood on the property?

What the Carved Pole Was, and Where It Came From

The “carved pole,” as it is cataloged in the collections database, was created by Reginald Harris, a British immigrant to Canada, out of a decommissioned telephone pole in the 1960s, which was then subsequently donated to The Whyte in 1976. According to an article in the Banff Crag & Canyon in that same year, it was presented as a carving inspired by First Nations, Māori, and broader Polynesian cultural art forms. According to the author of the same article, Mr. Harris went to great lengths to ensure the public understood this was not a totem pole but a simple carving. Carving was a hobby Mr. Harris picked up while on vacation in Hawaii, after witnessing some local artisans creating carvings of culturally significant imagery and selling them to tourists. Mr. Harris then decided to stick around for a bit and learn the craft.

Though the item was created back in the 1960s, our understanding of cultural appropriation has evolved significantly since then. To define the term, cultural appropriation involves the adoption or use of elements from one culture by members of another culture, usually involving privilege and power from the appropriating culture. The appropriation of these elements often occurs without proper respect, acknowledgement, or understanding of its original significance. In the case of the carved pole, what may have once been thought of as a benign artistic expression from a local hobbyist is now recognized as problematic and harmful. This is due to how it misrepresents Indigenous cultural symbols and caricaturizes Indigenous peoples. The item is also problematic due to its pan-Indigenous representations. The pole depicts a mixture of at least three general cultures, which further displaces the unique identities, geographic localities, and understanding of the figures in which the artist carved.

Context, Canadiana, and Tourism

It is incredibly important for cultural institutions to critique objects in their collections, such as this one, and to call into question the origins and intentions behind the creation of culturally appropriative art and, more broadly, the legacy of cultural appropriation as a practice of colonial nostalgia.[1] Museums are not and have never been neutral spaces, and often carry the proverbial load of building national identities. Objects like the carved pole fit distinctly within the realm of Canadiana, which can often be culturally appropriative without full acknowledgement of the people, ideas, practices, and art forms it takes its symbology from, most commonly from Indigenous peoples. This Canadiana also takes on another responsibility in the development of the commercialization of Indigenous peoples and culture, something the town we are situated in has always and continues to perpetuate. Both through the sale of “Indigenous-inspired” souvenirs mass produced overseas, and the development of Indigenous programming readily available for tourist consumption.

All of this to say that there is a long-standing history of the use of cultural appropriation for recreational activities, including sports teams’ mascots, Halloween costumes, tourist trinkets, etc.[2] However, cultural appropriation is not innocent fun; it perpetuates stereotypes that have real-world repercussions on Indigenous rights, lifeways, and safety.[3] Objects such as the carved pole, which depict Indigenous people as caricatures, harken back to the days when Indigenous representation in art and media included Tonto, Disney’s Pocohontas, and John Wayne Western films. Indigenous people were depicted as a punchline, an obstacle in the protagonist’s path, a romanticized disappearing race, or an outright villain. This representation in art and media reflected real-world treatment of Indigenous people as expendable or inconvenient, a continued factor in the racism Indigenous people experience today. In the last few decades, since the development of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada and movements such as Land Back, the American Indian Movement, and Idle No More, we have seen a shift in the way Indigenous people are represented in pop culture, art, and media, to allow for greater specificity, truth, and nuance in depictions of people and cultures that continue to fight for fair treatment across a wide range of arenas. If arts and cultural organizations leave objects like the carved pole unquestioned, do we risk undermining the incredible effort towards the development of Indigenous rights and anti-racism work?

From New Museology to Institutional Responsibility

Cultural institutions have been reassessing their roles and responsibilities to do this work through scholarship since the 1980s development of New Museology. Attempting to truthfully acknowledge our responsibility in presenting narratives that are harmful to many cultures. Having deeper conversations on how we represent the communities whose objects we hold in our collections and who sometimes entrusted their possessions to us. In my eyes, this is a responsibility that should not be trivialized.

This shift in perspective underscores the need for cultural institutions to continually reassess their collections to ensure they honour and respect the cultural integrity of the communities represented, in addition to further aligning with the expectations outlined in the Canadian Museums Association's Moved to Action Report: Activating UNDRIP in Canadian Museums. The decision to remove the pole is a decision to align with our institutional values and commitment to respecting Indigenous cultural heritage. It is a tangible demonstration and addressing of past oversights that continue to cause harm to Indigenous peoples. We believe in fostering an environment where all cultures are respected and represented with integrity in every aspect and space of the museum. With that said, this is what we as an institution have done, and plan to do.

Timeline

Early-March 2025 – Head Curator Christina Cuthbertson actions the removal of the pole, staff are consulted on their insights as to the most appropriate approach to communicating its removal.
Mid-March 2025 – A proposal is sent out internally on the agreed upon communication strategy, as well as timeline of removal and subsequent work. Maintenance team is greenlit to remove the pole from its location.
Before May 1^st, 2025 – The carved pole is removed, wrapped in polyurethane, and stored in a temporary storage location.
May to August 2025 – A deaccessioning process is developed for the item, outlined by the Canadian Museums Association and informed by the Hosting Indigenous Community Relations Team and the Indigenous Relations Department.
Summer 2025 – Publish an article in the Cairn outlining our intended process and reasoning as both an opportunity for institutional transparency, as well as a valuable learning opportunity for both The Whyte and our community.
September 2025 – Select the method of disposal best suited to achieving our objectives.

So, what are we going to do with the pole?

The carved pole is currently in storage while we evaluate our next steps. If the decision is made that the pole needs to be deaccessioned, we are committed to following the Canadian Museums Association's guidelines for deaccessioning objects within heritage collections. This standardized best practice ensures that any decisions regarding the pole are made transparently, respectfully, and in line with industry standards. However, the field of new museology offers some interesting suggestions regarding additional approaches to the removal of objects. New museology scholars and curators such as Hamza Walker suggest a recontextualization of harmful imagery. His upcoming exhibition MONUMENTS displays and reorients the removed and destroyed Civil War-era statues across the United States over the last decade, highlighting that these objects can be used to educate the public about the missing perspective instead. Through this exhibition, Walker poses the questions: What does it mean for our society if all these kinds of objects disappear for future generations without recontextualization? Do we risk falling into the same patterns? Do we utilize these items to truth-tell instead?

Part of the work in the art and heritage sector is about telling uncomfortable truths. Museums are moving into a new space and role since the fall of many types of colonial-era monuments in the US and Canada throughout the late 2010s and early 2020s, sending ripple effects across the arts and heritage sector globally. Instead of removing an object silently, the new industry standard suggests we remain transparent as to our thinking; in the end, it is far more likely we will all learn something by critiquing an object and discussing its removal outside of internal institutional conversation.

My hope through writing this article is to remain transparent and encourage readers to consider culturally appropriative pieces more in-depth. Operating in Banff, on sacred and deeply important Indigenous lands, where we see millions of visitors from around the globe annually, I believe that it is our responsibility as a cultural institution to be open and honest with our past, in the hopes and efforts that we can endeavour to create ethical and more inclusive practices for our future.

Sources:

[1] Birdsall, John. “Tiki Bars Are Built on Cultural Appropriation and Colonial Nostalgia. Where’s the Reckoning?” Los Angeles Times, November 27, 2019.

[2] Hirschfelder, Arlene, and Paulette F Moulin. “I Is for Ignoble: Stereotyping Native Americans.” Jim Crow Museum, February 22, 2018. https://jimcrowmuseum.ferris.edu/native/homepage.htm.

[3] Ibid.

Photos:

Exterior photo of the museum in 2020 with carved pole seen to the right. Provided photo.
"Retirement was a astart for Reg Harris," Banff Crag & Canyon, November 10, 1976, page 5
Maintenance team removing the carved pole from the museum grounds in April 2025.