Journal articles on the topic 'Gold mines and mining New Zealand History'

Historic gold and coal mines in the same catchment near Reefton, New Zealand allow comparison of environmental effects of the different mines in the same climate and topography. Gold mine discharge waters (neutral pH) deposit hydrated iron oxide (HFO) abundantly at mine entrances, whereas coal mine discharge waters (low pH) precipitate HFO tens to hundreds of metres downstream as pH rises. Waters leaving historic mines have up to 59 mg L−1 dissolved arsenic, and HFO at gold mines has up to 20 wt% arsenic. Coal mine discharge waters have low dissolved arsenic (typically near 0.01 mg L−1) and HFO has <0.2 wt% arsenic. Minor dissolved Cu, Cr, Ni, and Zn are being leached from background host rocks by acid solutions during sulfide oxidation, and attenuated by HFO downstream of both gold and coal mines. A net flux of 30 mg s−1 arsenic is leaving the catchment, and nearly all of this arsenic flux is from the gold mining area, but >90% of that flux is from background sources. The present study demonstrates that elevated trace metal concentrations around mines in a wet climate are principally from non-anthropogenic sources and are readily attenuated by natural processes.

The history of mining and exploration in Panama is a case study of the evolution of mining in a tropical, island arc environment in the New World from prehistoric to modern times over a period of ~1900 years. Panama has a strong mineral endowment of gold (~984 t), and copper (~32 Mt) resulting in a rich mining heritage. The mining history can be divided into five periods. The first was the pre-Columbian period of gold mining from near the start of the Current Era at ~100 CE to 1501, following the introduced of gold metalwork fully fledged from Colombia. Mining of gold took place from placer and vein deposits in the Veraguas, Coclé, Northern Darien and Darien goldfields, together with copper for alloying. Panama was the first country on the mainland of the Americas to be mined by Europeans during the Spanish colonial period from 1501-1821. The pattern of gold rushes, conquest and settlement can be mapped from Spanish records, starting in Northern Darien then moving west to Panama in 1519 and Nata in 1522. From here, expeditions set out throughout Veraguas over the next century to the Veraguas (Concepción), Southern Veraguas, Coclé and Central Veraguas goldfields. Attention returned to Darien in ~1665 and led to the discovery of the Espíritu Santo de Cana gold mine, the most important gold mine to that date in the Americas. The third period was the Republican period following independence from Spain in 1821 to become part of the Gran Colombia alliance, and the formation of the Republic of Panama in 1903. This period up to ~1942 was characterized by mining of gold veins and placers, and manganese mining from 1871. Gold mining ceased during World War Two. The fourth period was the era of porphyry copper discoveries and systematic, regional geochemical exploration programs from 1956 to 1982, carried out mainly by the United Nations and the Panamanian government, as well as private enterprise. This resulted in the discovery of the giant porphyry copper deposits at Cerro Colorado (1957) and Petaquilla (Cobre Panama, 1968), as well as several other porphyry deposits, epithermal gold deposits and bauxite deposits. The exploration techniques for the discovery of copper were stream sediment and soil sampling, followed rapidly by drilling. The only mine developed in this period was marine black sands for iron ore (1971-1972). The fifth and current period is the exploration and development of modern gold and copper mines since 1985 by national and foreign companies, which started in response to the gold price rise. The main discovery methods for gold, which was not analyzed in the stream sediment surveys, were lithogeochemistry of alteration zones and reexamination of old mines. Gold mines were developed at Remance (1990-1998), Santa Rosa (1995-1999 with restart planned in 2020) and Molejon (2009-2014), and the Cobre Panama copper deposit started production in 2019. The level of exploration in the country is still immature and there is high potential for the discovery of new deposits.

In the Bathurst Mining Camp (BMC), 12 of the 45 known massive sulphide deposits were mined between 1957 and 2013; one was mined for iron prior to 1950, whereas three others had development work but no production. Eleven of the deposits were mined for base metals for a total production of approximately 179 Mt, with an average grade of 3.12% Pb, 7.91% Zn, 0.47% Cu, and 93.9 g/t Ag. The other deposit was solely mined for gold, present in gossan above massive sulphide, producing approximately one million tonnes grading 1.79 g/t Au. Three of the 11 mined base-metal deposits also had a gossan cap, from which gold was extracted. In 2012, the value of production from the Bathurst Mining Camp exceeded $670 million and accounted for 58 percent of total mineral production in New Brunswick.Base-metal production started in the BMC in 1957 from deposits at Heath Steele Mines, followed by Wedge in 1962, Brunswick No. 12 in 1964, Brunswick No. 6 in 1965, Caribou in 1970, Murray Brook, Stratmat Boundary and Stratmat N-5 in 1989, Captain North Extension in 1990, and lastly, Half Mile Lake in 2012. The only mine in continuous production for most of this time was Brunswick No. 12. During its 49-year lifetime (1964–2013), it produced 136,643,367 tonnes of ore grading 3.44% Pb, 8.74% Zn, 0.37% Cu, and 102.2 g/t Ag, making it one of the largest underground base-metal mines in the world.The BMC remains important to New Brunswick and Canada because of its contributions to economic development, environmental measures, infrastructure, mining innovations, and society in general. The economic value of metals recovered from Brunswick No. 12 alone, in today’s prices exceeds $46 billion. Adding to this figure is production from the other mines in the BMC, along with money injected into the local economy from annual exploration expenditures (100s of $1000s per year) over 60 years. Several environmental measures were initiated in the BMC, including the requirement to be clean shaven and carry a portable respirator (now applied to all mines in Canada); ways to treat acid mine drainage and the thiosalt problem that comes from the milling process; and pioneering studies to develop and install streamside-incubation boxes for Atlantic Salmon eggs in the Nepisiguit River, which boosted survival rates to over 90%. Regarding infrastructure, provincial highways 180 and 430 would not exist if not for the discovery of the BMC; nor would the lead smelter and deep-water port at Belledune. Mining innovations are too numerous to list in this summary, so the reader is referred to the main text. Regarding social effects, the new opportunities, new wealth, and training provided by the mineral industry dramatically changed the living standards and social fabric of northern New Brunswick. What had been a largely poor, rural society, mostly dependent upon the fishing and forestry industries, became a thriving modern community. Also, untold numbers of engineers, geologists, miners, and prospectors `cut their teeth’ in the BMC, and many of them have gone on to make their mark in other parts of Canada and the world.

Economists and historians have identified the period between 1870 and 1914 as one marked by the movement of capital and labor across the globe at unprecedented speed. The accompanying spread of the gold standard and industrial techniques contained volatile and ambiguous implications for workers everywhere. Industrial engineers made new machinery and industrial techniques the measure of human effort. The plight of workers in South Africa's deep-level gold mines in the era following the Anglo-Boer War of 1899–1902 provides a powerful example of just how lethal the new benchmarks of human effort could be. When by 1904 close to 50,000 Africans refused to return to the mines, mining policy began to coalesce around solving the “labor shortage” problem and dramatically reducing working costs. Engineers, especially American engineers, rapidly gained the confidence of the companies that had made large investments in the deep-level mines of the Far East Rand by bringing more than 60,000 indentured Chinese workers to the mines to make up for the postwar shortfall in unskilled labor in late 1904. But the dangerous working conditions that drove African workers away from many of the deep-level mines persisted. Three years later, in 1907, their persistence provoked a bitter strike by white drill-men.

Abstract Sumatra, Indonesia, has a long and checkered history of mineral exploration and mining that dates back to prehistoric times. These activities have been dominated by gold, involving both the local population and mostly foreign companies. The first documented mining activity was the reopening of the ancient silver-rich Salida gold mine in West Sumatra in 1669 by the VOC (Vereenigde Oost-Indische Compagnie), a Dutch trading company that for two centuries monopolized trade between Europe and Asia. The government of the Netherlands East Indies initiated geologic investigations and mineral exploration in 1850, and private industry followed 30 years later. Between 1899 and 1940, 14 gold mines were developed, most of which were short-lived and uneconomic. Total production between 1899 and 1940 was 101 t Au and 1.2 Mt Ag. During the Japanese occupation, in its aftermath, and for the first 20 years of Indonesia’s independence, there was very little activity. In 1967, introduction of new foreign investment and mining laws by the New Order government heralded a new era of exploration and mining activity that continues to the present day. Since 1967, there have been several peaks in exploration activity, viz. 1969 to 1973 (porphyry copper), 1985 to 1990 (gold), 1995 to 1999 (gold), and 2006 to 2010 (multi-commodity). A variety of previously unknown mineralization types were discovered, including porphyry Cu, high-sulfidation Au, sediment-hosted Au, and sediment-hosted Pb-Zn. Activity during the modern area has included the reopening of one of the old Dutch mines, development of four new gold discoveries including the giant Martabe district (310 t Au), and exploitation of several small Fe skarn deposits known from the Dutch time. By world standards, to this day Sumatra remains underexplored.

The discovery of large quantities of gold and silver in the New World following the voyage of Christopher Columbus had a major impact on the subsequent history of the world economy. These two precious metals together with copper were regarded as the standard and measure of value in all societies throughout history. The sudden increase in the supply of gold and silver greatly increased the capacity of individual countries such as Spain and Portugal to finance wars and imports of consumer goods. The new Spanish coin, the real of eight, became an international currency for settling trade balances, and large quantities of these coins were exported to the Middle East, India, Southeast Asia, and China to purchase oriental commodities such as silk piece goods, cotton textiles, industrial raw material such as indigo, and various kinds of spices, later followed by tea, coffee, and porcelain. The trade in New World gold and silver depended on the development of new and adequate mining techniques in Mexico and Peru to extract the ore and refine the metal. South German mining engineers greatly contributed to the transplantation of European technology to the Americas, and the Spanish-American silver mines utilised the new mercury amalgamation method to extract refined silver from the raw ores. Although the techniques used in Mexico and Peru were not particularly advanced by contemporary European standards, the American mine owners remained in business for more than three hundred years, and the supply of American silver came to be the foundation of the newly rising Indian Ocean world economy in the 17th and 18th centuries.

Colonial Australian science grew by a process of transplantation, adaptation, and innovation in response to local conditions. The discovery of gold in 1851, and the location of vast resources of other minerals, transformed the colonies, as it did the imperial economy. In this process, the role of mining engineering and mining education played a significant part. Its history, long neglected by historians, illuminates the ways in which the colonial universities sought to guide and direct this engine of change, conscious both of overseas precedent and local necessity. This paper considers the particular circumstances of New South Wales, and the role of the University of Sydney, in seizing the day—and producing a degree—that lasted nearly a century.

Rocks exposed by mining can form physically, mineralogically, and geochemically diverse surface substrates. Engineered mine rehabilitation typically involves covering these rocks with a uniform layer of soil and vegetation. An alternative approach is to encourage the establishment of plant species that are tolerant of challenging geochemical settings. The zonation of geochemical parameters can therefore lead to geoecological zonation and enhanced biodiversity. Abandoned gold mines in southern New Zealand have developed such geoecological zonations that resulted from establishment of salt-tolerant ecosystems on substrates with evaporative NaCl. A salinity threshold equivalent to substrate electrical conductivity of 1000 µS separates this ecosystem from less salt-tolerant plant ecosystems. Acid mine drainage from pyrite-bearing waste rocks at an abandoned coal mine has caused variations in surface pH between 1 and 7. The resultant substrate pH gradients have led to differential plant colonisation and the establishment of distinctive ecological zones. Substrate pH <3 remained bare ground, whereas pH 3–4 substrates host two acid-tolerant shrubs. These shrubs are joined by a tree species between pH 4 and 5. At higher pH, all local species can become established. The geoecological zonation, and the intervening geochemical thresholds, in these examples involve New Zealand native plant species. However, the principle of enhancing biodiversity by the selection or encouragement of plant species tolerant of diverse geochemical conditions on exposed mine rocks is applicable for site rehabilitation anywhere in the world.

Sabulopteryxbotanica Hoare &amp; Patrick, sp. nov. (Lepidoptera, Gracillariidae, Gracillariinae) is described as a new species from New Zealand. It is regarded as endemic, and represents the first record of its genus from the southern hemisphere. Though diverging in some morphological features from previously described species, it is placed in genus Sabulopteryx Triberti, based on wing venation, abdominal characters, male and female genitalia and hostplant choice; this placement is supported by phylogenetic analysis based on the COI mitochondrial gene. The life history is described: the larva is an underside leaf-miner on the endemic divaricating shrub Teucriumparvifolium (Lamiaceae), and exits the mine to pupate in a cocoon in a folded leaf of the host plant. The remarkable history of the discovery and rediscovery of this moth is discussed: for many years it was only known from a single sap-feeding larva found in a leaf-mine in a pressed herbarium specimen of the host. The adult was discovered by BHP in Christchurch Botanic Gardens in 2013. Most distribution records of the moth come from a recent search for mines and cocoons on herbarium specimens of T.parvifolium. Sabulopteryxbotanica has high conservation status, and is regarded as ‘Nationally Vulnerable’ according to the New Zealand Department of Conservation threat classification system, based on the rarity and declining status of its host plant. However, the presence of apparently thriving populations of S.botanica on cultivated plants of T.parvifolium, especially at the type locality, Christchurch Botanic Gardens, suggests that encouraging cultivation of the plant could greatly improve the conservation status of the moth. A revised checklist of New Zealand Gracillariidae is presented, assigning all species to the currently recognised subfamilies. The Australian Macarostolaida (Meyrick, 1880) is newly recorded from New Zealand (Auckland), where it is established on Eucalyptus.

By the 1930s, silicosis – a debilitating lung disease caused by the inhalation of silica dust – had reached epidemic proportions among miners in the gold-producing Porcupine region of northern Ontario. In response, industrial doctors at the McIntyre Mine began to test aluminum powder as a possible prophylactic against the effects of silica dust. In 1944, the newly created McIntyre Research Foundation began distributing aluminum powder throughout Canada and exported this new therapy to mines across the globe. The practice continued until the 1980s despite a failure to replicate preventative effects of silicosis and emerging evidence of adverse neurological impacts among long-time recipients of aluminum therapy. Situated at the intersection of labour, health, science, and environmental histories, this article argues that aluminum therapy represents an extreme and important example where industry and health researchers collaborated on quick-fix “miracle cures” rather than the systemic (and more expensive) changes to the underground environment necessary to reduce the risk of silicosis.

SummaryThis article argues that during the formative years of the colonial state in Ghana, European employers established new collaborative mechanisms with African intermediaries for the purpose of expanding the modern mining sector. They were forced to do so on account of severe labour-market limitations, resulting primarily from the slow death of slavery and debt bondage. These intermediaries, or “headmen”, were engaged because of their apparent affluence and authority in their home villages, from which they recruited mineworkers. However, allegiances between them and managers in the Tarkwa gold mines considerably slowed the pace towards free labour. Indeed, a system in which managers reinforced economic coercion and repressive relationships of social dependency between Africans, allocating African labour contractors fixed positions of power, resulted from the institutionalization of purportedly traditional processes of labour recruitment into the modern market.

Abstract This article tells a story about the unfolding “Chinese Century” in South Africa centered on China Malls, wholesale shopping centers for Chinese goods that have cropped up along Johannesburg's old mining belt since the early 2000s. Based in ethnographic and historical analysis, the essay takes a palimpsestic approach to imagine how Chinese capital enters into a terrain profoundly shaped by race, labor, and migration and is entangled with the afterlives of gold. Chinese migrant traders in South Africa draw on legacies of migrant mine labor and refashion processes that devalue Black labor. Whereas these histories are lost upon Chinese newcomers, African workers experience working for “the Chinese” through the memory of the mines. With the aim of theorizing emergent formations of race and capital in the Chinese Century, the essay threads this new epoch through the history of colonial and racial capitalism of the City of Gold.

Worker campaigns for a more direct say in protecting their health and safety are a significant but under-researched subject in labour history. Largely overlooked are the attempts by coalminers in the UK, Australia and Canada to establish mechanisms for representation on health and safety in the 1870s. This push for a voice then spread to New Zealand, France, Belgium and other countries, with unions eventually securing legislative rights to inspect their workplaces a century before workers in other industries gained similar entitlements. In Australia metalliferous miners’ unions followed coalminers in initiating a parallel campaign for the right to appoint their own mine-site and district inspectors (known as “check-inspectors”) from the late nineteenth century. This article examines the struggle for and activities/impact of workmen-inspectors in Australian metalliferous mines, including adoption of the competing UK-Australian and Continental-European models. It finds the development conforms to a resistance rather than mutual-cooperation perspective with check-inspectors performing the role of “knowledge activists.” The article argues this finding is not only relevant to understanding more recent experience of worker involvement in occupational health and safety but also demonstrates the relevance of historical research to contemporary regulatory policy debates and union strategies.

The importation of more than 60,000 Chinese laborers to work in the Witwatersrand gold mines in South Africa between 1904 and 1910 remains an obscure episode in the history of Asian indentured labor in European colonies. Yet the experience of the coolies on the Rand reverberated throughout the Anglo-American world and had lasting consequences for global politics of race and labor. At one level, the Chinese laborers themselves resisted their conditions of work to such a degree that the program became untenable and was canceled after a few years. Not only did the South African project fail: Its failure signaled more broadly that at the turn of the twentieth century it had become increasingly difficult to impose upon Chinese workers the coercive and violent exploitation that had marked the global coolie trade in the era of slave emancipation. At another level, the Chinese labor program on the Rand provoked a political crisis in the Transvaal and in metropolitan Britain over the “Chinese Question”—that is, whether Chinese, indentured or free, should be altogether excluded from the settler colonies. Following the passage of laws limiting or excluding Chinese immigration to the United States (1882), Canada (1885), New Zealand (1881), and Australia (1901), Transvaal Colony and then the Union of South Africa, formed in 1910, likewise barred all Chinese from immigration—making Chinese and Asian exclusion, along with white rule, native dispossession, and racial segregation the defining features of the Anglo-American settlerism.

<div><p><em>This research sets out to unravel the history of Lennox Mine from its inception in 1970 tracing the contribution of the mine to the economic development of Zimbabwe from its colonial beginnings up to the current period when the new visionary owner, Honourable Gandiwa Moyo, Deputy Minister of Mines who inherited a dysfunctional mining enterprise set it on course again as a pillar for economic production, under the erstwhile management of the Lennox General Mine Manager, Edgar Mashindi. The research seeks to explore how the mine management, operating under harsh economic conditions prevailing in Zimbabwe has empowered African entrepreneurs and employees and resuscitated life to the dying town of Mashava. Mashava is back on its former footing as a lively booming bedroom town of Masvingo City, forty kilometres away: supermarkets, bars, salons, housing projects, new shops are sprouting up once again as Mashava claims its proud place as a gold producing enclave of the Zimbabwean economy. Hundreds of unemployed youths from all over Zimbabwe have descended on Mashava, seeking employment and investment opportunities resulting in an unprecedented economic boom which is being felt country wide. Only recently hordes of flea female market traders opened shop at Mashava to sell clothes, shoes, household furniture and related paraphernalia to local residents and they reported that business was excellent and confirmed business plans to return every month end to sell their wares. A few years back Mashava was an abandoned mining town with all services shut down after the Capitalist oligarchic organization which owned Mashava ceased all operations and expropriated capital to Australia and Europe and started out new commercial ventures in those respective European countries. The Zimbabwean Electricity Supply Association [ZESA] shut down electricity supplies to Lennox Mine after the mine incurred a debt of close to a quarter of a million. Today, Lennox has agreed on a payment plan and electricity has been reopened triggering high gold productivity as the mine returns to its normal production levels.</em></p></div>

The article examines the literary heritage of the Tomsk poet and fiction writer Valentin Vladimirovich Kuritsyn, the author of adventure novels, satirical works, and poems. Biographical information about Kuritsyn is very scarce. It is known that he was born in the city of Barnaul, Tomsk province on July 28, 1879, was educated at the Barnaul Mining School, then worked in private gold mines, due to health problems he moved to Tomsk for permanent residence, where he began to work in the management of the Siberian Iron roads. On January 18, 1911, he died of consumption at the age of just over 30. In Tomsk, Kuritsyn was published in local newspapers and magazines: “Sibirskii nablyudatel”, “Sibirskie otgoloski”, “Sibirskii Vestnik”, as well as in satirical magazines of the period of the First Russian Revolution. Fame and success brought him adventure novels, which he signed with the pseudonym “Ne-Krestovsky”. This pseudonym and the title of the first novel – “Tomskie trushchoby” – referred the reader to the famous novel “Peterburgskie trushchoby” by Vsevolod Krestovsky. But “Tomskie trushchoby” was not a parody or a continuation: it is an independent work that described the everyday life of the Tomsk criminal world, the life of swindlers, criminals, thieves, and fallen women. Kuritsyn’s novel was published in 1907–1908 in the newspaper “Sibirskie otgoloski”, and then was released as a separate book, the circulation of which was immediately sold out. After that, the same newspaper published novels in which all the same heroes acted: “Chelovek v maske” and “V pogone za millionami.” The novels of “Ne-Krestovsky” opened a new page in the history of Siberian literature. They represented a new kind of Siberian “newspaper novel” – criminal, adventure, adventurous, with elements of mysticism. These novels were extremely popular among the general public. At the same time, the novels were heavily criticized by leading Siberian writers and journalists. modern literary discourse allows one to take a fresh, unbiased look at the novels of Ne-Krestovsky, to open in them a connection with the world literary tradition of the adventure novel, with great success deployed on local Siberian material. Kuritsyn was not appreciated by his contemporaries, but after a century it becomes clear that he can rightfully be attributed to the large-scale literary figures of Siberia, worthy of research attention.

Gold was plentiful in Egypt and had been used by the Pharaohs from earliest times as a means of asserting their power. But the history and archaeology of the mining and production of the Egyptian gold is a lot less known than the splendour of the country’s kings. Between 2013 and 2016, the French Eastern desert mission aimed to fill in these gaps in our knowledge through the excavation of the gold mining district of Samut, located between Edfu and Marsa Alam. It hosts one of the largest Ptolemaic mineral processing site of the region, Samut north. The excellent preservation of the remains made possible, for the first time, a comparison between archaeological remains and the well-known treatise of Agatharchides of Cnidus exposing the awful conditions of living in the gold mines of the Ptolemies. Besides, three other sites were explored: the impressive village of Samut el-Beda, dated to the New Kingdom, and two small villages of medieval times. In all the sites structures and artifacts related to the gold processing were unearthed, that held crucial data on the technological and organizational evolution of the gold exploitation over more than two millennia in the Eastern desert.

American history, and particularly that of the West where, during the 19th and early 20th centuries, mining for gold and silver flourished, and periodically continues to do so, is based on a frontier mentality. Indeed, we in the United States of America are still not far removed from that mentality, and have our roots in exploitation based on the idea, historically, of unlimited resources. We have created a variety of myths. Myths need not be bad, but ours have not served us well. We have started to learn slowly from our mistakes and to accept, in however belated a fashion, that we should avoid repeating them. Here I try briefly to sketch some of the outcomes from our history as it relates to mining, in the hope that New Zealand will not suffer some of the same consequences as mining communities and regions have in the US.

IntroductionIn March 2015, I visited the Lambing Flat Folk Museum (established 1967) in the “cherry capital of Australia”, the town of Young, New South Wales, in preparation for a student excursion. Like other Australian folk museums, this museum focuses on the ordinary and the everyday of rural life, and is heavily reliant on local history, local historians, volunteers, and donated objects for the collection. It may not sound as though the Lambing Flat Folk Museum (LFFM) holds much potential for a fashion curator, as fashion exhibitions have become high points of innovation in exhibition design. It is quite a jolt to return to old style folk museums, when travelling shows such as Alexander McQueen: Savage Beauty (Metropolitan Museum of Art 2011 – V&A Museum 2015) or The Fashion World of Jean Paul Gaultier (V&A Museum 2011­ – NGV 2014) are popping up around the globe. The contrast stimulated this author to think on the role and the power of curators. This paper will show that the potential for fashion as a vehicle for demonstrating ideas other than through rubrics of design or history has been growing. We all wear dress. We express identity, politics, status, age, gender, social values, and mental state through the way we dress each and every day. These key issues are also explored in many museum exhibitions.Small museums often have an abundance of clothing. For them, it is a case of not only managing and caring for growing collections but also curating objects in a way that communicates regional and often national identity, as well as narrating stories in meaningful ways to audiences. This paper argues that the way in which dress is curated can greatly enhance temporary and permanent exhibitions. Fashion curation is on the rise (Riegels Melchior). This paper looks at why this is so, the potential for this specialisation in curation, the research required, and the sensitivity needed in communicating ideas in exhibitions. It also suggests how fashion curation skills may facilitate an increasing demand.Caring for the AudienceThe paper draws on a case study of how Chinese people at the LFFM are portrayed. The Chinese came to the Young district during the 1860s gold rush. While many people often think the Chinese were sojourners (Rolls), that is, they found gold and returned to China, many actually settled in regional Australia (McGowan; Couchman; Frost). At Young there were riots against the Chinese miners, and this narrative is illustrated at the museum.In examining the LFFM, this paper points to the importance of caring for the audience as well as objects, knowing and acknowledging the current and potential audiences. Caring for how the objects are received and perceived is vital to the work of curators. At this museum, the stereotypic portrayal of Chinese people, through a “coolie” hat, a fan, and two dolls dressed in costume, reminds us of the increased professionalisation of the museum sector in the last 20 years. It also reminds us of the need for good communication through both the objects and texts. Audiences have become more sophisticated, and their expectations have increased. Displays and accompanying texts that do not reflect in depth research, knowledge, and sensitivities can result in viewers losing interest quickly. Not long into my visit I began thinking of the potential reaction by the Chinese graduate students. In a tripartite model called the “museum experience”, Falk and Dierking argue that the social context, personal context, and physical context affect the visitor’s experience (5). The social context of who we visit with influences enjoyment. Placing myself in the students’ shoes sharpened reactions to some of the displays. Curators need to be mindful of a wide range of audiences. The excursion was to be not so much a history learning activity, but a way for students to develop a personal interest in museology and to learn the role museums can play in society in general, as well as in small communities. In this case the personal context was also a professional context. What message would they get?Communication in MuseumsStudies by Falk et al. indicate that museum visitors only view an exhibition for 30 minutes before “museum fatigue” sets in (249–257). The physicality of being in a museum can affect the museum experience. Hence, many institutions responded to these studies by placing the key information and objects in the introductory areas of an exhibition, before the visitor gets bored. As Stephen Bitgood argues, this can become self-fulfilling, as the reaction by the exhibition designers can then be to place all the most interesting material early in the path of the audience, leaving the remainder as mundane displays (196). Bitgood argues there is no museum fatigue. He suggests that there are other things at play which curators need to heed, such as giving visitors choice and opportunities for interaction, and avoiding overloading the audience with information and designing poorly laid-out exhibitions that have no breaks or resting points. All these factors contribute to viewers becoming both mentally and physically tired. Rather than placing the onus on the visitor, he contends there are controllable factors the museum can attend to. One of his recommendations is to be provocative in communication. Stimulating exhibitions are more likely to engage the visitor, minimising boredom and tiredness (197). Xerxes Mazda recommends treating an exhibition like a good story, with a beginning, a dark moment, a climax, and an ending. The LFFM certainly has those elements, but they are not translated into curation that gives a compelling narration that holds the visitors’ attention. Object labels give only rudimentary information, such as: “Wooden Horse collar/very rare/donated by Mr Allan Gordon.” Without accompanying context and engaging language, many visitors could find it difficult to relate to, and actively reflect on, the social narrative that the museum’s objects could reflect.Text plays an important role in museums, particularly this museum. Communication skills of the label writers are vital to enhancing the museum visit. Louise Ravelli, in writing on museum texts, states that “communication needs to be more explicit and more reflexive—to bring implicit assumptions to the surface” (3). This is particularly so for the LFFM. Posing questions and using an active voice can provoke the viewer. The power of text can be seen in one particular museum object. In the first gallery is a banner that contains blatant racist text. Bringing racism to the surface through reflexive labelling can be powerful. So for this museum communication needs to be sensitive and informative, as well as pragmatic. It is not just a case of being reminded that Australia has a long history of racism towards non-Anglo Saxon migrants. A sensitive approach in label-writing could ask visitors to reflect on Australia’s long and continued history of racism and relate it to the contemporary migration debate, thereby connecting the present day to dark historical events. A question such as, “How does Australia deal with racism towards migrants today?” brings issues to the surface. Or, more provocatively, “How would I deal with such racism?” takes the issue to a personal level, rather than using language to distance the issue of racism to a national issue. Museums are more than repositories of objects. Even a small underfunded museum can have great impact on the viewer through the language they use to make meaning of their display. The Lambing Flat Roll-up Banner at the LFFMThe “destination” object of the museum in Young is the Lambing Flat Roll-up Banner. Those with a keen interest in Australian history and politics come to view this large sheet of canvas that elicits part of the narrative of the Lambing Flat Riots, which are claimed to be germane to the White Australia Policy (one of the very first pieces of legislation after the Federation of Australia was The Immigration Restriction Act 1901).On 30 June 1861 a violent anti-Chinese riot occurred on the goldfields of Lambing Flat (now known as Young). It was the culmination of eight months of growing conflict between European and Chinese miners. Between 1,500 and 2,000 Europeans lived and worked in these goldfields, with little government authority overseeing the mining regulations. Earlier, in November 1860, a group of disgruntled European miners marched behind a German brass band, chasing off 500 Chinese from the field and destroying their tents. Tensions rose and fell until the following June, when the large banner was painted and paraded to gather up supporters: “…two of their leaders carrying in advance a magnificent flag, on which was written in gold letters – NO CHINESE! ROLL UP! ROLL UP! ...” (qtd. in Coates 40). Terrified, over 1,270 Chinese took refuge 20 kilometres away on James Roberts’s property, “Currawong”. The National Museum of Australia commissioned an animation of the event, The Harvest of Endurance. It may seem obvious, but the animators indicated the difference between the Chinese and the Europeans through dress, regardless that the Chinese wore western dress on the goldfields once the clothing they brought with them wore out (McGregor and McGregor 32). Nonetheless, Chinese expressions of masculinity differed. Their pigtails, their shoes, and their hats were used as shorthand in cartoons of the day to express the anxiety felt by many European settlers. A more active demonstration was reported in The Argus: “ … one man … returned with eight pigtails attached to a flag, glorifying in the work that had been done” (6). We can only imagine this trophy and the de-masculinisation it caused.The 1,200 x 1,200 mm banner now lays flat in a purpose-built display unit. Viewers can see that it was not a hastily constructed work. The careful drafting of original pencil marks can be seen around the circus styled font: red and blue, with the now yellow shadowing. The banner was tied with red and green ribbon of which small remnants remain attached.The McCarthy family had held the banner for 100 years, from the riots until it was loaned to the Royal Australian Historical Society in November 1961. It was given to the LFFM when it opened six years later. The banner is given key positioning in the museum, indicating its importance to the community and its place in the region’s memory. Just whose memory is narrated becomes apparent in the displays. The voice of the Chinese is missing.Memory and Museums Museums are interested in memory. When visitors come to museums, the work they do is to claim, discover, and sometimes rekindle memory (Smith; Crane; Williams)—-and even to reshape memory (Davidson). Fashion constantly plays with memory: styles, themes, textiles, and colours are repeated and recycled. “Cutting and pasting” presents a new context from one season to the next. What better avenue to arouse memory in museums than fashion curation? This paper argues that fashion exhibitions fit within the museum as a “theatre of memory”, where social memory, commemoration, heritage, myth, fantasy, and desire are played out (Samuels). In the past, institutions and fashion curators often had to construct academic frameworks of “history” or “design” in order to legitimise fashion exhibitions as a serious pursuit. Exhibitions such as Fashion and Politics (New York 2009), Fashion India: Spectacular Capitalism (Oslo 2014) and Fashion as Social Energy (Milan 2015) show that fashion can explore deeper social concerns and political issues.The Rise of Fashion CuratorsThe fashion curator is a relative newcomer. What would become the modern fashion curator made inroads into museums through ethnographic and anthropological collections early in the 20th century. Fashion as “history” soon followed into history and social museums. Until the 1990s, the fashion curator in a museum was seen as, and closely associated with, the fashion historian or craft curator. It could be said that James Laver (1899–1975) or Stella Mary Newton (1901–2001) were the earliest modern fashion curators in museums. They were also fashion historians. However, the role of fashion curator as we now know it came into its own right in the 1970s. Nadia Buick asserts that the first fashion exhibition, Fashion: An Anthology by Cecil Beaton, was held at the Victoria and Albert Museum, curated by the famous fashion photographer Cecil Beaton. He was not a museum employee, a trained curator, or even a historian (15). The museum did not even collect contemporary fashion—it was a new idea put forward by Beaton. He amassed hundreds of pieces of fashion items from his friends of elite society to complement his work.Radical changes in museums since the 1970s have been driven by social change, new expectations and new technologies. Political and economic pressures have forced museum professionals to shift their attention from their collections towards their visitors. There has been not only a growing number of diverse museums but also a wider range of exhibitions, fashion exhibitions included. However, as museums and the exhibitions they mount have become more socially inclusive, this has been somewhat slow to filter through to the fashion exhibitions. I assert that the shift in fashion exhibitions came as an outcome of new writing on fashion as a social and political entity through Jennifer Craik’s The Face of Fashion. This book has had an influence, beyond academic fashion theorists, on the way in which fashion exhibitions are curated. Since 1997, Judith Clark has curated landmark exhibitions, such as Malign Muses: When Fashion Turns Back (Antwerp 2004), which examine the idea of what fashion is rather than documenting fashion’s historical evolution. Dress is recognised as a vehicle for complex issues. It is even used to communicate a city’s cultural capital and its metropolitan modernity as “fashion capitals” (Breward and Gilbert). Hence the reluctant but growing willingness for dress to be used in museums to critically interrogate, beyond the celebratory designer retrospectives. Fashion CurationFashion curators need to be “brilliant scavengers” (Peoples). Curators such as Clark pick over what others consider as remains—the neglected, the dissonant—bringing to the fore what is forgotten, where items retrieved from all kinds of spheres are used to fashion exhibitions that reflect the complex mix of the tangible and intangible that is present in fashion. Allowing the brilliant scavengers to pick over the flotsam and jetsam of everyday life can make for exciting exhibitions. Clothing of the everyday can be used to narrate complex stories. We only need think of the black layette worn by Baby Azaria Chamberlain—or the shoe left on the tarmac at Darwin Airport, having fallen off the foot of Mrs Petrov, wife of the Russian diplomat, as she was forced onto a plane. The ordinary remnants of the Chinese miners do not appear to have been kept. Often, objects can be transformed by subsequent significant events.Museums can be sites of transformation for its audiences. Since the late 1980s, through the concept of the New Museum (Vergo), fashion as an exhibition theme has been used to draw in wider museum audiences and to increase visitor numbers. The clothing of Vivienne Westwood, (34 Years in Fashion 2005, NGA) Kylie Minogue (Kylie: An Exhibition 2004­–2005, Powerhouse Museum), or Princess Grace (Princess Grace: Style Icon 2012, Bendigo Art Gallery) drew in the crowds, quantifying the relevance of museums to funding bodies. As Marie Riegels Melchior notes, fashion is fashionable in museums. What is interesting is that the New Museum’s refrain of social inclusion (Sandell) has yet to be wholly embraced by art museums. There is tension between the fashion and museum worlds: a “collision of the fashion and art worlds” (Batersby). Exhibitions of elite designer clothing worn by celebrities have been seen as very commercial operations, tainting the intellectual and academic reputations of cultural institutions. What does fashion curation have to do with the banner mentioned previously? It would be miraculous for authentic clothing worn by Chinese miners to surface now. In revising the history of Lambing Flat, fashion curators need to employ methodologies of absence. As Clynk and Peoples have shown, by examining archives, newspaper advertisements, merchants’ account books, and other material that incidentally describes the business of clothing, absence can become present. While the later technology of photography often shows “Sunday best” fashions, it also illustrates the ordinary and everyday dress of Chinese men carrying out business transactions (MacGowan; Couchman). The images of these men bring to mind the question: were these the children of men, or indeed the men themselves, who had their pigtails violently cut off years earlier? The banner was also used to show that there are quite detailed accounts of events from local and national newspapers of the day. These are accessible online. Accounts of the Chinese experience may have been written up in Chinese newspapers of the day. Access to these would be limited, if they still exist. Historian Karen Schamberger reminds us of the truism: “history is written by the victors” in her observations of a re-enactment of the riots at the Lambing Flat Festival in 2014. The Chinese actors did not have speaking parts. She notes: The brutal actions of the European miners were not explained which made it easier for audience members to distance themselves from [the Chinese] and be comforted by the actions of a ‘white hero’ James Roberts who… sheltered the Chinese miners at the end of the re-enactment. (9)Elsewhere, just out of town at the Chinese Tribute Garden (created in 1996), there is evidence of presence. Plaques indicating donors to the garden carry names such as Judy Chan, Mrs King Chou, and Mr and Mrs King Lam. The musically illustrious five siblings of the Wong family, who live near Young, were photographed in the Discover Central NSW tourist newspaper in 2015 as a drawcard for the Lambing Flat Festival. There is “endurance”, as the title of NMA animation scroll highlights. Conclusion Absence can be turned around to indicate presence. The “presence of absence” (Meyer and Woodthorpe) can be a powerful tool. Seeing is the pre-eminent sense used in museums, and objects are given priority; there are ways of representing evidence and narratives, and describing relationships, other than fashion presence. This is why I argue that dress has an important role to play in museums. Dress is so specific to time and location. It marks specific occasions, particularly at times of social transitions: christening gowns, bar mitzvah shawls, graduation gowns, wedding dresses, funerary shrouds. Dress can also demonstrate the physicality of a specific body: in the extreme, jeans show the physicality of presence when the body is removed. The fashion displays in the museum tell part of the region’s history, but the distraction of the poor display of the dressed mannequins in the LFFM gets in the way of a “good story”.While rioting against the Chinese miners may cause shame and embarrassment, in Australia we need to accept that this was not an isolated event. More formal, less violent, and regulated mechanisms of entry to Australia were put in place, and continue to this day. It may be that a fashion curator, a brilliant scavenger, may unpick the prey for viewers, placing and spacing objects and the visitor, designing in a way to enchant or horrify the audience, and keeping interest alive throughout the exhibition, allowing spaces for thinking and memories. Drawing in those who have not been the audience, working on the absence through participatory modes of activities, can be powerful for a community. Fashion curators—working with the body, stimulating ethical and conscious behaviours, and constructing dialogues—can undoubtedly act as a vehicle for dynamism, for both the museum and its audiences. 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