I am just back from a delightful four days in Nova Scotia, and have several impressionistic takeaways. First, flags are definitely unfurled in Canada: I’m sure you can understand why. Second, a question: why is Canada so much better at presenting and representing its multicultural history than the United States? Third, wow so many Gothic Revivals (properly called Carpenter Gothic, I think)! I want to follow up on the second point (question) while sharing my photos, which present more of a not-very-representative overview. Why not representative? Because Canada’s (or maybe I am casting too broadly and should just say Nova Scotia’s) multiculturalism is layered and interwoven and consequently both subtle and substantive at the same time. Many wayfinding and exhibit signage are in three languages: English, French, Mi’kmaw, the language of the indigenous Mi’kmaq Nation. Three perspectives in many exhibits. By contrast, American attempts at presenting multiculturalism seem like veneers, more simple, less integrative, and I fear much less impactive.

I wanted to explore the impact and remembrance of the catastrophic Halifax explosion of 1917 and search for some Loyalist history on my visit: I accomplished the first goal but not the second. It was difficult to locate much 18th century history in Halifax (except for the exhibition I’m going to close with), and I didn’t make it to Shelburne, where the Black Loyalist Heritage Centre is located. If I had, I would have been exposed to yet another perspective! Next trip. The Halifax Explosion of December 6, 1917, was a result of the collision of the French munitions ship Mont-Blanc with the Belgian relief ship Imo in the busy harbor, creating a massive conflagration which killed 2000 people and left thousands more injured and homeless. It leveled the harborside neighborhood of Richmond, which was rebuilt as the stamped-cement, garden-city Hydrostone Neighborhood, where we stayed with friends. This district is also home to the Halifax Memorial Bell Tower and its surrounding commemorative park, layered with subtle yet striking remembrance design elements: edging with the last telegraph message, benches with the toxic contents of the Mont-Blanc. Then it was down into the Hydrostone district, also an expression of remembrance.










Downtown Halifax mixes old and new, with the expansive harbourwalk embracing both. Here were markers noting key events and people not only in the city’s indigenous, French, and English history, but also pretty much any group that ever arrived and/or settled for a spell. Given the size of the harbor and Halifax’s consequential role in maritime and naval history from the eighteenth century onwards, this recognition presented quite a melange, from Norwegians to Lebanese. I walked up the hill to the famous Citadel, so I could get an overview, but knew I wanted to return to this storied fortress when I had more time, which I did on our last day. Beautiful churches: Protestant and Catholic. We were also fortunate to get a tour of the studios of the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design, situated behind the individual facades of interconnected 19th century buildings, as our host is a professor and administrator there (as well as a very successful jeweler).











We drove north towards the Bay of Fundy on Saturday and stayed at our hosts’ charming cabin on Falls Lake, and then drove to the Grand-Pré National Historic Site the following morning. This is a poignant site for the remembrance of Nova Scotia’s Acadian community and the Great Upheaval of 1755-56, during which 80% of the approximately 14,000 French Catholic Acadians in the region were deported to British Protestant colonies down south, including nearly 1000 to Massachusetts. This is beautiful, fertile country, sustained: you can see why all who settled here cherished it so. We then circled back to Halifax by way of the very important shipbuilding port Lunenburg, which has incredible architecture—-including its own distinct dormer style! The black and white church below is St. John’s Anglican Church, which was built in the mid-18th century, “gothicized” a century later, and more recently rehabilitated after a fire in 2001. A former public school, the Lunenburg Academy/Library is also being restored. The last photo below is of the Bluenose II, a 1963 reproduction of the famous 1921 ship that is prominently featured on the Canadian dime.










Back in Halifax, I returned to the Citadel on our last morning because I wanted to see the interior and contents of this hilltop fortress. I didn’t really have high expectations, but I was blown away by its newest permanent exhibition, Fortress Halifax: A City Shaped by Conflict, which spans over more than 6000 square feet across seven rooms with dramatic visual content and cutting-edge audio-visual interpretive tools. I didn’t have high expectations because I thought I would find a more military-focused interpretation within a fort, but Halifax’s strategic location and huge harbor did make it a fortress so the title and the focus are appropriate. At the same time though, the exhibition was about much more than military history: it encompassed social, economic, environmental, cultural, and event-based history all at the same time with the very layered presentation I was referencing at the beginning of this post. Its time span extended from pre-colonial Mi’kmaq history through to the modern era, and encompassed indigenous, British, European, American, North American and even global perspectives. I’m really glad that it’s a permanent exhibition, as I will definitely be returning.










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