Identity Crisis

Another post? So soon?

Yes! I came across this article in the NY Times about identity museums. The examples cited by Mr. Rothstein are instructive and I found his argument interesting.

I should add that I found the article only because of the great people at Global Museum, who send a fantastic e-mail once a week with lots of museum tidbits. They also have a very helpful job board. Check it out!

With Tired Eyes, Tired Minds, Tired Souls, We Slept

You may have noticed that I have slacked off a bit lately, especially when it comes to commenting on museums. The reason? I have not visited any museums or historic sites for quite a while.

Why, you ask? I have been pondering the same question. I have certainly not yet exhausted the list of possible sites. Philadelphia and the surrounding communities have many museums and historic sites that I have not yet visited. In fact, there are probably more than I even know about.

The reasons for my recent failures are several. The first reason is one shared by many individuals and it is financial. Sometimes visiting museums and historic sites is expensive. Between transportation, parking and admission costs, a visit can sometimes cost more money than I feel I can spare. But many historic sites in Philadelphia are very inexpensive, or even free. So why the absence of any visits?

I am ashamed to say it but lately I have just not been in the mood to visit museums. I spend most of my time in a very large museum smiling at people and letting them know where they can find the bathrooms. I often visit new exhibitions and walk through the galleries. Sometimes the last thing I want to do on my day off is visit another museum. Reading even more label text feels oppressive. My initial enthusiasm about being in a new city has worn off and I do not feel the same pressure to make the trip to Center City on a day when I do not have to do so for work. Combine this feeling with the craziness of the holiday season, with all of the extra shopping trips and time spent wrapping gifts and I just do not have the time.

Shameful, I know.

So I offer my New Year’s Resolution to you. I will strive to visit the sites I have been putting off and to rekindle my interest in other institutions. Wish me luck.

To Deaccession or Not to Deaccession?

According to this piece published in the New York Times earlier this week, the Philadelphia History Museum has been selling pieces from its collection to finance the first major renovations to the building since the 1940's.

The museum desperately needed to weed out some pieces from its collection. It did not have the space or the budget to care for a collection of that size. The building also needed to be renovated and updated. (Nancy Moses hints at the difficulties faced by the museum in her book Lost in the Museum: Buried Treasures and the Stories They Tell.) The museum would need to raise incredibly large sums of money in order to complete these upgrades.

I sympathize with the museum's argument that the money obtained from the sale of various historic objects goes entirely toward ensuring the preservation and safety of what remains in the collection, but the whole process leaves a sour taste in my mouth. This situation is different from other institutions making news recently for deaccessioning objects to pay for daily operating costs. I also recognize that the intentions of the museum's staff are very good. They are attempting to do what is best for the museum and its collection. But did no other options for raising money exist?

According to the "News" section on the museum's website, the museum has received various grants and other sources of funding. I find it hard to believe that these sources, as well as individual donors, were tapped before resorting to auctioning off parts of the collection to the highest bidder.

I fear that deaccessioning has become, for many museums, an easy way to fund projects that might otherwise be hard too expensive or difficult to finance rather than a means of acquiring better or more representative pieces for the collection. Deaccessioning should not be the means by which a museum funds its daily operations or its renovations.

Patience and Grace

For anyone who doesn't already know, I work in Visitor Services, which effectively means that I wear many different hats. I help out in the Development Office once a week, occasionally work in the operator's booth and man the museum's various coatrooms, in addition to selling tickets and answering general museum questions. Today I happened to be doing two of these jobs simultaneously. As I kept watch over a few coats, bags and umbrellas in the coatroom I stuffed envelops and applied mailing labels to two different mailings for the Development Office.

Mid-stuff a momentarily horrifying thought crossed my mind: this is not why I went to graduate school.

In a very real sense, I did not go to graduate school to stuff envelops, hang up coats or sell tickets. Inquiring visitors have asked me what my "real job" is after learning about my background. I have felt embarrassed, even ashamed, of my job at various points.

But when I really think about the job that I do, I start to feel a little better. The work I do is humbling - in a good way. And I can see the connections between what I do now and what I want to do. Yes, I would prefer to be working with the collections in a hands-on kind of way but showing people how to find them in a gallery is in many ways just as important. The mission of any museum is, after all, to educate as well as to preserve.

Even if I didn't specifically get a degree in envelop-stuffing or label-applying, I did go to school to work in a museum. Right now, I am extremely grateful for the opportunity and I will await a collections position with both patience and grace.

Speed Read

Last weekend I visited Zoo America in Hershey, PA with my boyfriend, Matt. While the "wildlife park" is relatively small (about 11 acres), we had a great time. The signage was informative and the many directional signs made our map practically unnecessary. I revisited my childhood by feeding the ducks and had the opportunity to see some animals of which I had never heard. Here is a small sampling of what we saw:






As we ambled through the various exhibits I was struck by two things. First, Zoo America reminded me of the close link, often overlooked, between museums and zoos/aquariums. Museums and zoos have similar missions: they seek to educate the public and to preserve their "collections." People often forget this fact, but it has potentially powerful implications. Whenever various experts talk about the state of museums in the United States today, they rarely include zoos in their analysis. Imagine if they did. We should also consider whether or not zoos and museums should work together more closely when attempting to secure funding and when lobbying the government for support.

Second, our visit to Zoo America reminded me once again of the importance of proofreading. I could bring up this point in relation to almost every museum, zoo or historic site I visit. I implore those in charge of creating signage to check and double-check what you have written! Don't let this happen to you:



Also, if you like animals, check out The Animal Review. The blog is amusing, informative and a complete delight. Enjoy!

The View from this Tower

I want to encourage everyone to do a something if at all possible: take a behind-the-scenes tour of your favorite museum.

I had the opportunity to take such a tour today at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. As anyone who has been to the museum knows, the building is not only incredible, it is also historic. Parts of the building that were open to the public many years ago have now been converted to other uses and are hidden from the layman's eyes. These parts of the building are beautiful and it was fascinating to see them and to hear them talked about by someone who clearly loves the building and knows more about it than I could ever hope to.

The best part of the tour, however, was being on the roof.



To be honest, I had been to the PMA's subbasements before. I knew that they had as much beauty as the rest of the building. But to see the view from the roof was to understand the building in an entirely new way. The view from the top of the building impressed on me not only the sheer size of the building, but also its height.



In short, find a way to take a behind-the-scenes tour of your favorite museum. Having seen the storage areas and hidden nooks and crannies of several museums and historic sites I can assure you that the most interesting stuff is the stuff most people never get the chance to see. I would also like to encourage museum staff to try to find a way to allow more people to see their museum from this unique vantage point. Don't limit this experience to staff and those with sufficient disposable income to purchase high level memberships. After all, you never know who you may inspire.

*My apologies for the less-than-stellar quality of the photos; rather than using a real camera I used the only thing at hand, which happened to be my cell phone.

Your Time Has Come

Lately I have been wondering if I will ever make it out of the world of visitor services and into collections management, the area of museum work for which I trained and in which I find the most enjoyment. Trying to find one of these positions is time consuming, frustrating and seemingly endlessly disappointing.

I was therefore thrilled to be handed a copy of Nina Simon's short article called "Doing Time on the Front Line" published in the July-August 2010 issue of Museum. (You can find a copy of the article here) It is so reassuring to hear someone say what I already think to be true - that working in the museum's front lines beneficial is not only beneficial, it can also lead to other opportunities in the future.

Selfishly, I hope that my time on the front lines at the Philadelphia Museum of Art will prove to be beneficial in terms of future employment opportunities. But I also hope that this article can inspire in others what it has inspired in me: hope.

Ramblin' Man

After two crazy days of tramping all over Philadelphia with my parents, I have some comments to make.

First up: the Eastern State Penitentiary



Let me preface this by saying that I was completely skeptical about this place before visiting. The prison's website is something just less than good and I was afraid it would rely too heavily on its reputation as a haunted historic building. I decided to visit the penitentiary more as a means of entertaining my parents than anything else.

I now wish to retract my previous assumptions. The audio guide (included in your ticket price) gives a good history of the building. There are about nine introductory audio stops, and then you can wander around the rest of the grounds as you choose. Most of the "optional" audio tour stops have labels giving at least minimal background information, meaning that one could choose to continue without the audio guide. The audio guides are thus flexible and affordable. Plus, Eastern State is unique. Although Philly has plenty of historic buildings and museums, to my knowledge there is nothing quite like Eastern State anywhere else in the city.



The penitentiary is also close to some other great cultural institutions, including the Philadelphia Museum of Art and any of the other BF Parkway Museums. The Fairmount neighborhood also has some great dining options. I recommend Figs, located at the corner of 25th and Meredith Streets.

Next up: the U.S. Mint



The Mint is one of those government buildings that just makes me sigh. The exhibits are shabby. The glue holding some of the exhibits together is beginning to fail and its obvious that the exhibits have not had an overhaul in years. That said, the tour is free, somewhat informative, and I did learn how coins are made. Plus, everyone likes to see the coin-making process live from the gallery windows above the factory. My final assessment: don't snub the Mint, just don't expect bells, whistles, or anything fancy.

Last but not least: the Wanamaker Organ at Macy's



I have to give my mother the credit for tracking down this little gem. The organ is included on one of the walking tour cards I mentioned a few weeks ago. In 1874, the Wanamaker Department Store moved to what is now the Macy's building at S. 13th and Market Streets. John Wanamaker installed the world's largest pipe organ in the store's seven-floor Grand Court. The organ is still played two times each day.



First of all, the building is worth visiting even if you could care less about the organ. Its an absolutely beautiful building that is still used for its original purpose. Second, the organ itself its gorgeous and its size is simply overwhelming. It is difficult to comprehend just how impressive the instrument is without actually going to see it. Third, you get to hear a really great organist play the organ for free in an amazing setting. The experience is entirely worthwhile, and even more so since it won't cost you a cent. Unless, of course, you can't help yourself from shopping while you're there.

Time Will Crawl

A time capsule recently discovered in nearby Atlantic City, NJ got me thinking about the burial and discovery of these little gems. What makes time capsules so amazing, you ask?

1. Typically, "normal" people bury time capsules and dream about their future discovery. These capsules are not left behind by movie stars or CEO's. Instead, John and Jane Smith in Nowhereville prepare and hide items they believe might be interesting or useful in the future.

2. To imagine who buried the time capsule is amazing. What were the people like? What did they do? Who did they envision finding and opening their time capsule?

3. A time capsule is a study in what makes the history of objects (rather than art) so fascinating and important. Time capsules not only come from very ordinary people; they show us what ordinary people found worth sharing. We can investigate why each object was chosen and what it means.

Thanks, as always, to Matt for passing this article along. Here are a few more to whet your appetite:

North Platte, NB Time Capsule
YouTube Time Capsule
Pierre, SD Time Capsule

Final Answer

My memory is terrible.

I want to recommend a fantastic podcast from the BBC called "A History of the World in 100 Objects." Anyone who agrees that historic objects are central to an understanding of ourselves and our past can't help but enjoy the podcast.

Look for the podcast through iTunes or on the BBC's website.

Money Honey

My source of all interesting news stories passed this very unfortunate one to me this evening. It seems that financial problems have forced the State Museum of Pennsylvania to cut hours and raise admission prices.

This story is heartbreaking. A lack of state funding forced the museum to begin charging admission fees last summer, and the situation has only gotten worse in the meantime. Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell has continued to slash state funding to museums, to the point that the Pennsylvania Historic and Museum Commission barely has any staff left. I strongly support appropriately funding cultural institutions of all kinds so that everyone can afford to visit.

It is a travesty that the state of Pennsylvania cannot do any better than this.

Quite Free

I want to praise the Philadelphia Museum of Art (my employer, in case you have forgotten) for providing a day last week free of charge. The museum waived the cost of general admission last Saturday in honor of the museum's late director Anne d'Harnoncourt. I love these kinds of days because they make museum collections accessible to large portions of the population who may not normally be able to afford a trip to a high-quality art museum. Days with free general admission help a museum to accomplish one of its most important goals: educating the public about its collection.

But nothing can be that simple.

Without fail, free admission days mean that museum staff will spend much of their time asking visitors not to eat or drink in the galleries, to turn off their camera flashes, and not to touch the art work. Children will run and scream. Parents will yell. Everyone will talk too loudly. Generally speaking, the people who come to museums on days with free admission spend very, very little time inside museums. The visitors lack knowledge about museum conduct.

Let me be quite clear: I do not fault these people for being unaware of proper museum protocol. Many people just do not know how to behave in museums. The reasons for this are complex and not easy to pin down. Many children attend a museum of some kind while in their elementary years, and should, in theory, learn how to act at museums on these trips. However, these trips are probably too infrequent and brief to make much of an impression. I would also argue that the dynamic of school trips is different than on a regular trip to the museum. The students often eat in a separate location and are provided with stimulating activities. This kind of stimulation is likely to occur on a weekend visit with their parents or older siblings.

Part of the problem may also be that museums tend to be minimalists when it comes to signage. They fail in many cases to make people aware of the rules upon entering the museum. In my mind, listing the rules on the back of the museum map in small print simply doesn't cut it.

I'm quite sure that I'm missing a host of other reasons for people's bad behavior, but I want to make some observations about potential fixes for this issue. The first is obvious: make museum attendance a more common theme in every child's formative years. Make sure that these trips extend beyond the elementary years and well into middle school and high school. I am not talking about more trips for kids whose parents are likely to take them to art museums anyway. I'm talking about the kids whose parents have probably never been to a museum since their own school years.

Museums should also not feel shy about posting the rules in a more obvious way on days when the building will be flooded with visitors coming more for free entertainment than for the museum itself. A couple of well-placed signs will certainly intrude less upon a person's experience at the museum than screaming children and irritable security guards. (For some great journalism about the importance and necessity of good signage, read this series of articles by Slate's Julia Turner.)

In the end, museum etiquette is no different than etiquette at the symphony, the opera, or a church service. The way people behave in any public situation comes down to knowledge. If people are not aware that a code of conduct exists, how can we expect them to follow it?

In the name of spreading the word, here are a couple of good references for proper museum behavior.

http://www.artagogo.com/reviews/learn1/learn5.htm

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/397360/museum_etiquette_how_to_behave_when.html?cat=2

All Those Expectations

I want to reflect on something that happened this week that has me completely baffled.

Having heard nothing but positive things about the Barnes Foundation since I moved to Philadelphia, I was ecstatic when I learned that a work-related trip to the museum was being planned, and that we would be visiting the Barnes before it moves just a stones throw away from the Philadelphia Museum of Art and the Franklin Institute on the Ben Franklin Parkway.

I was disappointed.

Before I complain, here are a couple of possible justifications for my displeasure.

1. I spent just over an hour in the museum. You simply cannot absorb the Barnes in that amount of time. I will make another trip to see the collection as soon as possible and will then reassess the my feelings about the museum.

2. My visit to the museum was with a large group of people. I am the kind of person who prefers to experience museums, particularly art museums, on my own or with very small groups. Its possible that the format of this trip predisposed me to disappointment.

3. The Barnes probably could not have ever lived up to the expectations I had for it. Because of all the things I had heard about the collection, I expected it to be life-changing, perhaps even earth-shattering. It wasn't.

All of that being said, here are my thoughts about the Barnes:

1. The guide my group had was amazing. She had an encyclopedic knowledge of the collection, the artists and the paintings. Because the Barnes has no interpretive signs, she gave the collection a context it might have otherwise lacked. Part of the problem with this, however, is that Dr. Barnes allegedly arranged his collection in such a way as to make interpretive signs and guides unnecessary.

2. Dr. Barnes' much-vaunted and celebrated method of arranging his collection of paintings and sculptures failed to move me. I found the ironwork on the walls distracting rather than helpful; I honestly would have rather had an interpretive sign. I do not get enjoyment out of a painting because I see that lines in the painting are echoed in the candlesticks placed strategically on a table in front of the painting. I enjoy great paintings because they are sometimes so beautiful, so breathtaking that it brings tears to my eyes.

3. A visit to the Barnes is hampered at this point by its impending move to the BF Parkway. Because I work for the PMA I won't even get into all of this, but it is supremely irritating that some galleries are closed and that one cannot visit without having to think about the upcoming move. (Go watch The Art of the Steal if you don't know what I'm talking about.)

What is my final assessment? Go see the Barnes. The collection is truly amazing. I would, however, caution you to be realistic in your expectations for the collection, the building and the museum's method of interpretation. Go see the paintings because they are masterpieces, not because they are hung in some supposedly revolutionary way. Go see the paintings because each one really could change your life.

Imagination

Please read this article by Paul Bloom. Not only is it a fascinating article, but I believe it holds important lessons for exhibit designers, curators, and anyone involved in the creation of historical fiction (audio or visual).

Thanks to Matt (my favorite) for passing this along.

Fire Burning

I couldn't help but chuckle over an article I saw recently about the Burnt Food Museum. This museum absolutely must go in the same category as the International Banana Club and Museum from several weeks ago. I will also admit that, despite my collections background, I am not entirely certain that I could adequately preserve burned food. To master that skill might require attending yet another workshop.

While you're having a laugh at the burned food, please enjoy the thought of geese wandering through museum galleries. It could happen to you.

I almost forgot...

Or rather I did forget to mention this article from the New York Times about Greece's demands for the return of the Elgin Marbles.



Kimmelman does an excellent job contextualizing the debate over who, if anyone, can "own" culture. Its a fascinating argument that continues to rage between Great Britain and Greece, and it promises not to be resolved any time soon.

Read and enjoy.

Stunned

I was recently having a very pleasant conversation with a museum volunteer, until she said something that stunned me. She claimed that if we (Americans) stop funding our museums, we will lose our culture and become a third world country.

Here are the things I feel are wrong with that statement.

1. The volunteer's statement completely misunderstands what it means to be a third world country. That designation has nothing to do with how many museums a country has. Plenty of third world countries have museums, though their quality and standards vary wildly.

2. The statement assumes that museums are the sole creators of culture. Anyone who has ever thought seriously about "culture" simply cannot come to that conclusion. Museums may be the guardians of culture, but their existence has nothing to do with whether or not a society has "culture."

3. The statement limits "culture" specifically to fine art, and more broadly to anything contained within a museum. But the arms of culture reach far beyond the kinds of things that museums house. It includes the songs you sing, the stories you tell your grandchildren, the clothes you wear, the books you read, the food you eat, the words you speak, and every little piece of ephemera that hardly anyone thinks of saving.

4. The statement assumes that museums cannot exist without some kind of government funding and, by extension, that those museums are superior to those that do not receive government funding. Can government funding improve the quality of museums? Absolutely. One need look no further than the London's National Gallery or the V&A to understand that government money can not only help improve the content of museums, but also make those museums free and accessible to all. But one can also look at the U.S. Park Service, with its years-long backlog of maintenance requests and its continual budget deficits to see the problems associated with government funding. I am in no way advocating that the government stop funding museums; many small museums and historic societies could not exist without the funding they receive from the state or federal government. I am merely pointing out that the end of government funding would certainly not mean that all museums or all culture would be permanently wiped out of the American landscape.

To be fair, I am probably reading into the woman's statement. But I do believe that her comments are indicative of many individuals who work or volunteer at art museums. "Culture", for them, begins and ends with fine art, an idea which is not only erroneous but dangerous.

Houses in Motion

Let me begin by endorsing a product: City Walks. I own both the Boston and Philadelphia decks and love each one.

Today's City Walk tour took me to Society Hill. I hadn't intended to visit any museums today, but when I stumbled on the Powel House, I decided to take a tour.



The Powel has been restored fairly well with close-to-the-original paint colors and period furniture. There is no standard admission price, but the suggested donation for an adult is $5. The interior of the house is truly delightful. It can boast of original wood floors and walls adorned with portraits of the Powel family. Architecturally, the house is beautiful and the gardens have been well-maintained. One of the most refreshing things about the house was the relative lack of an awkward, forced gift shop.

The Powel's best asset has to be its tour guides. These individuals can either make or break an historic house museum. The two older ladies who led myself and five others around the house were absolutely terrific. They took the time to find out from where each visitor had come and a little bit about his or her background. They also managed to effectively balance narrative and facts about the house with visitor questions. They made the experience worthwhile.

The only thing about the Powel that I found odd was that the guides never laid out any rules for the tour. Although no one tried to snap any photos, I am not sure whether or not photos can be taken inside. More disturbingly, the guides never asked the visitors not to touch anything, nor did they comment when visitors did touch some of the artifacts. Naturally, several people did put their oily fingers all over some gorgeous 250 year old furniture. However, while that violation bothers collections-oriented individuals, it does not bother the casual visitor. It terms of visitor experience, I will not hold it against the staff of the Powel.

In short, go to the Powel House. Its inexpensive. Its location is fantastic. The experience is delightful. I will leave you with some photos of the Society Hill area.

Bookends

I was struck recently by a quote from Elizabeth Kostova's recent novel The Swan Thieves.

"Pushing out through the doors, I experienced that mingled relief and disappointment one feels on departure from a great museum—relief at being returned to the familiar, less intense, more manageable world, and disappointment at that world’s lack of mystery."

The truth of the quote may be debatable, but I found it enjoyable anyway.

On a slightly different note, read the book. For anyone interested in art, history or very readable novels, its fantastic and moves quickly.

One More Shout-Out

I would be making a mistake if I did not give an additional word of praise to the African American Museum in Philadelphia.



For the purposes of full disclosure, I should mention that I have a long-standing interest in African Americans in Pennsylvania, and in Philadelphia more specifically. In college, I completed a major research project about black church building and community development between 1780 and 1830. This interest was my motivation for planning my trip to the museum.

What a worthwhile trip! The museum provided a great overview of the history of African Americans in Philadelphia, which reminded me of some things I had long forgotten, and taught me some new ones. The second of the four galleries had eight or so videos of actors telling the stories of various individuals from Philadelphia. These seemed to be a big hit; I saw many visitors sit and watch each of the videos closely before moving on. The third gallery had a collection of artwork by local African American artists.

The fourth gallery, however, was by far the best. That gallery is currently home to a traveling exhibit called "381 Days: The Montgomery Bus Boycott Story." The text recounts the time line of the boycott. The exhibit also has a fantastic video collection of oral histories from the civil rights era. These stories are moving and extremely important. I found myself watching at least forty five minutes of the video before leaving the museum. Everyone should watch the video.

My only complaint about the museum is very minor - Pittsburgh was spelled incorrectly (the "h" was missing) on several signs.

But go to the African American Museum! It is a history museum that remains highly relative and informative.

Ring of Fire

While doing an internet search of museums to visit in Philadelphia, I stumbled on the Fireman's Hall Museum. What a completely adorable place! First, some photos:









In short, there are a few things that made the Fireman's Hall Museum so enjoyable.

1. The location is fantastic. The museum is a few steps from Elfreths Alley and only a few blocks from Independence Hall, the African American Museum in Philadelphia, and the rest of Old City. To give you a sense of the location, this is Elfreths Alley:





2. The museum is free. A donation bucket is available for those who desire to be generous, but donations are not required. All too often, museums become places only for families or individuals who can afford a ticket price of $10 or more.

3. The museum is totally digestible. Larger museums (like the Metropolitan, the Philadelphia Museum of Art, or even the Penn Museum) are simply too big to absorb in one visit. In contrast, the Fireman's Hall Museum has only two, relatively small floors, and the exhibits are not too text-heavy.

4. The museum has great stuff, the kind of stuff that one does not often see. When was the last time you saw a fire bucket or walked up the first, very primitive fire engines? The stuff at the Fireman's Hall Museum is also thought-provoking. Although I had worked with these kind of objects before, I had not particularly thought about the fact that more effective firefighting developed hand in hand with improved water systems. In that sense, the museum fulfilled part of its purpose - to educate the public.

Monkey Business

This article in the Times got me thinking about whether or not museums can do something similar with objects; that is, can museums create an "experience" like the one developed by the London Zoo in which visitors are immersed in an environment?

Art museums and historic house museums can create the same kind of environment as the London Zoo. Museums like the Philadelphia Museum of Art (my employer, for purposes of full disclosure) sometimes create "period rooms" that reproduce rooms from various locations and eras. These rooms display works of art in their original setting, providing the visitor with context and, ideally, a deeper understanding of the work.

For smaller museums, however, this kind of exhibit is difficult to create, as well as prohibitively expensive. Most museums simply don't have the resources, or for that matter, the space to design these kinds of displays. In the case of other museums, the "period room" model simply doesn't make sense. They cannot transport a room from Europe and recreate it in an American museum. Take, for example, the Philadelphia Doll Museum. The museum certainly cannot create an environment for each of the dolls, and placing them in their original context would be nearly impossible. Without allowing visitors to physically handle the dolls, how can the museum help visitors to experience them in the same way that visitors to the London Zoo get to encounter monkeys and rain forests?

Its b-a-n-a-n-a-s

Read this article about the International Banana Club and Museum.

This seemingly inane article actually poses a fascinating question: what is a museum? And, depending on that definition, does the International Banana Club and Museum really count as one?

First, a definition. Dictionary.com defines a museum as "a building or place where works of art, scientific specimens, or other objects of permanent value are kept and displayed." What an ambiguous definition! "Objects of permanent value" can mean almost anything because any object is bound to be valuable to someone in some location. The origin of the word "museum" doesn't help a tremendous amount either. According once again to dictionary.com, the word dates to 1605 and refers to a building devoted to learning the arts. But as the Mutter Museum makes obvious, museums effectively cover many more areas than just the arts.

I prefer the definition from the American Association of Museums. It argues that all museums must make a "unique contribution to the public by collecting, preserving, and interpreting the things of this world." The key word? Interpreting. A museum has to be more than just a repository for the world's stuff. It has to tell us what all that stuff means and why it matters. Museums should help us to learn something about ourselves and our pasts. To use the word "museum" freely and without abandon does a disservice not only to the cultural institutions that do preserve and interpret objects, but to the individuals who work so hard and with so little recognition to do so.

To Arles and Beyond

A few days ago, I stumbled on a fantastic blog about the restoration of Van Gogh's The Bedroom.

The blog is so fantastic because it does exactly what a museum's blog should do - it informs the public about the work they museum is doing and how that work gets done. Very few people understand what restoration, conservation and preservation entail. The amount of time and money these processes take probably seems ridiculous to them. Filling in the gaps in the public knowledge is one way to gain support for the institution. When a member of the public understands a museum's function, and sees that it has meaning and value, he or she will be more likely not only to visit, but also to support the institution.

Well done, Van Gogh Museum.

Futhermore...

One additional thought about the Mutter Museum.

The stated purpose of most museums or historical societies is to educate the public and to preserve art or historic objects. What does it mean for a museum to educate the public? On a basic level, a museum wants the visitor to understand things like how a fid or seam rubber is used or how Pablo Picasso revolutionized the art world. A museum visitor should exit the building having learned something.

I would argue, however, that that something should be more than basic facts or historic timelines. Museums and historic sites should always teach one something about him or herself. Because art and historic objects are three-dimensional and therefore tangible, they possess a sense of naturalism that history books and labels simply cannot replicate. They are the "living" remnants of times and people long since gone. Nancy Moses, former director of the Atwater Kent Museum in Philadelphia (which is, incidentally, on my list of places to visit) once said that historic objects are "very powerful, infused with meaning, for they tell us who we are as individuals and as a society; they connect us with our past." [The book is called Lost in the Museum: Buried Treasures and the Stories They Tell. It is delightful. Look into it.] Historian David Lowenthal agrees, and claims that "a past lacking tangible relics seems too tenuous to be credible." [The Past is a Foreign Country; also a fanstastic read.] Therefore, in order to fully understand the past, one has to understand historic objects. Why bother to understand the past? Because it is impossible, or at least very difficult, to understand who you are and where you have come from without a comprehension of the past.

What does this mean? In essence, it means that a visitor should leave a museum having learned something about himself or herself, not just bits of trivia.

What does this have to do with the Mutter Museum, you ask? The majority of the museum's collection is not historic objects per se; rather, it is a collection of bones, organs and tissue. But how better for a visitor to understand from where he or she has come than by understanding the human body and how it works?

The museum represents material culture with a fascinating twist, which gives me one more reason to return.

No Bones About It.

My apologies for the bad pun. It was too easy. As promised, here are my thoughts about the Mutter Museum:



1. The museum is, as it claims to be, "disturbingly informative." For those of us who don't routinely look at livers, tibias or slices of brains, the exhibits are not only visually stimulating, but also packed full of information about medical conditions about which most of us know very little. Better yet, the exhibits manage to be interesting and informative without being text-heavy.

2. The Mutter does something very similar to the Mercer Museum in Doylestown, PA: it attempts to be a "museum of a museum." In other words, the museum looks much like it did at its inception; it self-consciously maintains the same organizational style and explains to the visitor its reasons for so doing. While the Mercer takes this to the extreme (it goes so far as to explain integrated pest management systems and accession numbers), the Mutter does an excellent job of helping the visitor understand how museums work on a deeper level.

3. Although in most cases, the labels found a happy medium between too much and not enough text, there were frequent typos. I found three, and I wasn't looking for them.

4. I'm probably just being picky, but I could have done without the special exhibit "Corporeal Manifestations." Because of space issues at the museum, the exhibit felt like an afterthought, stuck off to the side. Also, the exhibit exit funnels visitors into the gift shop. Normally this is fine, but because of the exhibit layout, one can go through the exhibit, exit through the gift shop, and then have to re-enter the galleries. The route I had to take was slightly confusing, very circuitous and mildly irritating.

On the whole, however, the Mutter provides a great experience. I enjoyed the Museum enough to recommend it to several people today.

Go forth and be disturbed.

Stay Tuned...

I never thought I would end up starting to write a blog but since it appears that I have...

Welcome to Going Beyond the Glass. My goal: to share my thoughts about museums and historic sites without boring anyone who should choose to read them.

Although my background is in collections, I have recently found myself working in visitor services, a development which has given me a new perspective on museums and historic sites and the ways in which they present themselves to the public. It has allowed me to think differently about what museums do that does and does not work, as well as how to make visitor experiences more productive and enjoyable.

So here it is. Feel free to suggest places that I should visit in the Philadelphia area and to disagree with my observations. First up: the Mutter Museum and the Penn Museum of Archeology and Anthropology.