Many years ago, Marc Fennell began his career as a volunteer at Sydney community station FBi Radio. Armed with a microphone and a minidisc recorder (it was the early 00s) he quickly became enamoured with the art of interviewing. A couple of decades on, Fennell still loves nothing more than sitting down with another person, having a conversation and switching on the recorder.
In fact, that’s how his latest project began. On a trip to London, the media personality started interviewing people about stolen artefacts. He turned those interviews into a podcast called Stuff the British Stole that quickly raced to the top of the iTunes charts. It was such a hit that the ABC decided to turn Stuff the British Stole into a six-part television series, which begins airing Tuesday 1 November at 8pm.
“The idea is every episode you take an object that sits in a museum or gallery and ask the question, how exactly did it get there? And those objects become a vector that tell the story of the world left in the wake of the British empire,” Fennell explains. “I joke that it’s basically Indiana Jones in reverse. Indiana Jones goes around the world and says, ‘This belongs in a museum!’ And then I come along and go, does it really?”
The show will see Fennell explore how objects, including a crown jewel diamond, a Palestinian mosaic and First Nations regalia from Canada came to be in the possession of the British. It’s a fun and entertaining look at history. But for Fennell, Stuff the British Stole is also a way to change the way we think about the past. As he tells it, “I just think there’s something really important about telling the story of the empire from the point of view of those who were colonised.”
Using a small object to tell a bigger story is a tactic Fennell learned from his favourite childhood TV show, Star Trek. Here, he reveals why a model of the spacecraft from the sci-fi series feels so significant, and the stories behind other personal belongings.
What I’d save from my house in a fire
The incredible collection of cookbooks that we have in our house – there are hundreds. I realised during the lockdowns, which I didn’t cope very well with, that I have a really busy mind. So I was not particularly well equipped to be stuck in the house for months at a time. But cooking became one of the only things that could clear my brain.
The funny thing about my relationship with the collection of cookbooks is that I have them, I look at them, but I never follow them. I flip through pages and go, “Oh, I like the idea of that.” Then I just go off and make something that is somewhat inspired by that cookbook. I don’t think I’ve followed a proper recipe in years.
It’s taken me a long time to work out that cooking is the right mixture of creative but not verbal. It allows me to make something without all the talking and hard facts that come with being a journalist.
It’s one of the only ways I know how to cope with stress and anxiety.
My most useful object
My microphones. Microphones, for me, are freedom. I use them for my podcast, I use them to do my job. And I’m never happier in a work context than when I’m holding a microphone in front of a person and listening to them talk.
The microphone is the most elegant way of capturing a person without anything getting in the way. That’s the difference [between podcasting and TV] – you just put a microphone between two people and it provides purpose, but it doesn’t stop a person from being who they really are. I think there’s something quite magical about that.
The item I most regret losing
A model of the Starship Enterprise from Star Trek that my dad and I built together in 1997 – we moved house last year and I don’t know where it got to. My dad and I made it on the day my grandmother died as an activity to occupy our minds, but I associate it with our imagination and with possibility.
I was raised on Star Trek, as well as sci-fi and fantasy. And I remember as a not-terribly-happy kid, how much I looked to made-up worlds for optimism. I’ve realised, as an adult, how much of my worldview is still influenced by the theme of Star Trek. The thing with Star Trek is it’s often really shit – I’ll just disclaim that. But when it’s good, it’s this great platform for allegories of big ideas about the world, philosophy and who we are. And with the documentaries and podcasts I make now, I’m often looking for something with the same fundamental mechanic – a small, quirky thing that allows me to explore a big idea.
Stuff the British Stole is a good example of this in the sense that there are weird, ephemeral objects that sit in museums and galleries and you pull the thread and it allows you to tell very big stories about what happens to people throughout history. A lot of that storytelling approach I can trace back to watching Star Trek. And yes, this is my way of saying I’m a massive nerd, but Star Trek matters to me.
