Abstract: Apparitions of empire and imperial ideologies were deeply embedded in the International Exhibition, a distinct exhibitionary paradigm that came to prominence in the mid-nineteenth century. Exhibitions were platforms for the display of objects, the movement of people, and the dissemination of ideas across and between regions of the British Empire, thereby facilitating contact between its different cultures and societies. This thesis aims to disrupt a dominant understanding of International Exhibitions, which forwards the notion that all exhibitions, irrespective of when or where they were staged, upheld a singular imperial discourse (i.e. Greenhalgh 1988, Rydell 1984). Rather, this thesis suggests International Exhibitions responded to and reflected the unique social, political and economic circumstances in which they took place, functioning as cultural environments in which pressing concerns of the day were worked through. Understood thus, the International Exhibition becomes a space for self-presentation, serving as a stage from which a multitude of interests and identities were constructed, performed and projected. This thesis looks to the visual and material culture of the International Exhibition in order to uncover this more nuanced history, and foregrounds an analysis of the intersections between practices of exhibition-making and identity-making. The primary focus is a set of exhibitions held in Glasgow in the late-1880s and early-1900s, which extends the geographic and temporal boundaries of the existing scholarship. What is more, it looks at representations of Canada at these events, another party whose involvement in the International Exhibition tradition has gone largely unnoticed. Consequently, this thesis is a thematic investigation of the links between a municipality routinely deemed the ‘Second City of the Empire’ and a Dominion settler colony, two types of geographic setting rarely brought into dialogue. It analyses three key elements of the exhibition-making process, exploring how iconographies of ‘quasi-nationhood’ were expressed through an exhibition’s planning and negotiation, its architecture and its displays. This original research framework deliberately cuts across strata that continue to define conceptions of the British Empire, and pushes beyond a conceptual model defined by metropole and colony. Through examining International Exhibitions held in Glasgow in the late-Victorian and Edwardian periods, and visions of Canada in evidence at these events, the goal is to offer a novel intervention into the existing literature concerning the cultural history of empire, one that emphasises fluidity rather than fixity and which muddles the boundaries between centre and periphery.


Abstract: Because of the wealth of quantitative information and editorial opinion they provide, those researching British migration have often turned to newspapers and other periodicals; the use of shipping notices, advertisements, original reportage and editorial commentaries has provided historians with contemporary descriptions of changes in population composition, whether by immigration, natural growth, increased mortality or out-migration. Although requiring corroboration, these sources provide excellent indications of when changes occurred and when these became worthy of comment. However, the precise nature of these commentaries, the mechanics of their creation, transmission and evolution, remains unclear. While recent work in newspaper and media history have begun to trace information networks present in Victorian and Edwardian Britain, the lines of communication in the early empire remain unclear. Throughout the Georgian period, newspapers cited, borrowed and blatantly stole editorial content from other British and colonial papers. The question remains, however, whether this source material was manipulated by local editors to suit local prejudices or whether an uncritical inclusion of reprints shaped or utterly transformed local opinion. Since its official founding in 1787, the British colony of New South Wales had been home to a wide range of British immigrants including convicted prisoners, government and military personal, religious missionaries and free settlers. Nonetheless, this complex view of migration and settlement in Australia was not always appreciated by those who resided in sending communities within Britain. Rumours mixed with half-record fact to create an eclectic and fluctuating public conversation of Antipodean prospects. In recent years, historians have begun to rewrite imperial histories to better account for the fluctuating and multi-layered nature of identity within Britain’s “white” colonies, encompassing class, faith, nationality and provincial status. Yet, there remains a fundamental disconnect between the study of public spheres within the colonies themselves and that of Britain. While the study of individual newspaper titles has a long history and imperial historians have now begun to compare perceptions of identity and empire between disparate regions, there has yet to be a close study of the tangible connections between metropolitan, provincial and colonial public spheres. This implies that the two did not intersect or that the spread of identity was mono-directional in nature. This article therefore traces the editorial history of the printed conversations and proclamations found in British and Australian newspapers between 1803 and 1842, the years in which the Sydney Gazette, Australia’s most commonly cited periodical, was in operation. By examining Australia’s public portrayal of immigration, settlement and the demographic composition of New South Wales and by tracing these descriptions through the reprints, abridgements and commentaries of British newspapers, this article compares and contrasts public notions of identity and nationalism within Australia with those who remained or had returned to Great Britain. From this, this article demonstrates the extent to which the Sydney Gazette acted as the gatekeeper and envoy of Australian identity in the early nineteenth century.

The book is available here.




Abstract: I was driving south on the Peninsula Development Road (PDR) in the early afternoon of a dry season day when, ten kilometres north of the Archer River crossing, my four-wheel-drive went into a sidelong slide. Within a few seconds the car came to a shuddering halt, inverted in a ditch, its headlights now facing back towards the Lockhart River turnoff. What happened next escapes me, but some specifics remain: a plume of red dust entering the cabin through the driver’s side window; a line of blood travelling down my arm onto the right hand that held me up against the shattered windscreen; I told myself out loud to get out of the car. Crawling out of the vehicle, my foremost thought was that I had been the subject to a significant clerical error that could be set right through appeal to an unknown cosmic authority. But the accident was tenaciously real and within minutes a couple in a ute two teenagers in rugby shorts with working dogs stopped to inform me of as much. One helped me take photos and clean the dust off my face while the other salvaged my belongings out of the four-wheel-drive, now slowly pouring its twin gasoline tanks onto the clay verge. I spent the next hour squeezed between them, re-narrating the crash over booming country music, before parting in Coen, the closest township with a mechanic and a police station. The duty officer told me to come back tomorrow. A domestic violence complaint would take up his afternoon, he said, flicking his head towards a woman sitting behind him. In the meantime, he suggested I recover wreck towed before it was stripped for parts.