Yet another long delay between posts.
I promise I have not stayed away from museums and the like in the interim. On the contrary, I visited the National Aquarium and Historic Ships in Baltimore and the Valley Forge National Historic Park. I also started, with the help of some friends, an Emerging Museum Professionals Group in the Philadelphia area. And I have continued my collections internship at a historic house museum, kept working at my full time job, and started a graduate certificate program in Museum Collections Management and Care through George Washington University.
Whew! All of this activity has left me with very little time to think. However, I have, over the course of several months, made some very common sense realizations about things that do not always get noticed, despite their great importance.
Each session of my current course (Collections Management: Legal and Ethical Issues) focuses, unsurprisingly, on the legal issues affecting each area of collections management. Beginning with the role of the museum as a charitable organization and the duties of trustees, the course charts the legal and ethical duties of those caring for museum collections. What I have found most striking is the heavy reliance on accurate record keeping. Every single session comes back in one way or another to the quality and content of a museum's records. A museum's defense for everything, from charges of improper care to Nazi looted art or stolen property, relies on detailed and accurate record keeping.
I am not shocked by this. After all, collections managers are charged with keeping the best, most complete and most accurate records possible. In practice, however, the records for many museum objects are incomplete, missing or incorrect. Previous generations of museum staff simply did not keep records of the same type or quality now required by professional standards. Smaller organizations with untrained and unpaid staff may be ignorant of these standards in the first place.
Having had no formal instruction in this area, I had never fully realized the legal (not to mention ethical) ramifications of these deficiencies. The organization for which I am interning has no records of any kind. We are currently completing the very first inventory of the museum's collection. No accession paperwork exists. Many of the objects have no provenance whatsoever. Worse, the institution has no collection management policy establishing policies and procedures for record keeping.
The staff at the museum will soon start working on a comprehensive collection management policy. As we move forward with the policy and the (nearly complete) inventory, complete and accurate record keeping will play a central role in the process. Standards for creating and maintaining good record keeping will need to be established. I am appreciative of the timely reminder of the central importance of good record keeping and grateful for the opportunity to see the process enacted from start to finish.
27 October 2011
31 August 2011
Listen to the Music
As much as I do not want to spend the rest of my career in Visitor Services, I do often get to do really interesting things. Yesterday I accompanied a group of musicians called the Sixth Floor Trio through the museum while they performed "random acts of culture,." They set up in a gallery and then played a song.
The music had a definite impact on those who heard it. Empty galleries would soon become crowded when the music started. And when they played in the Great Stair Hall, people gathered along the balcony to listen. A few clapped when the music ended.
I love the idea of a roving band of musicians playing the galleries. They had the ability to choose galleries that fit songs in their repertoire. With any luck, the memory of the music will help to reinforce the visitor's memory of their experience at the museum. And, hopefully, the music improved their overall experience and they will soon return.
The music had a definite impact on those who heard it. Empty galleries would soon become crowded when the music started. And when they played in the Great Stair Hall, people gathered along the balcony to listen. A few clapped when the music ended.
I love the idea of a roving band of musicians playing the galleries. They had the ability to choose galleries that fit songs in their repertoire. With any luck, the memory of the music will help to reinforce the visitor's memory of their experience at the museum. And, hopefully, the music improved their overall experience and they will soon return.
02 August 2011
Narrow Stairs
I read this post today on the Center for the Future of Museums blog and had to share.
Please take the stairs! The Philadelphia Museum of Art has plenty of stairs, even apart from the ones that Rocky conquered. Not only does taking the stairs have a health benefit but it also provides a view of the museums lobbies that the elevators simply do not provide. Even better, when you take the stairs from the ground floor to the first floor you get the best possible viewing of Marc Chagall's A Wheatfield on a Summer Afternoon. Whether you like Chagall or not (I, personally, do not, but I do love this particular painting) this size of this painting and the brightness of the colors will take your breath away.
So give the stairs a shot. You may be surprised by what you see.
Please take the stairs! The Philadelphia Museum of Art has plenty of stairs, even apart from the ones that Rocky conquered. Not only does taking the stairs have a health benefit but it also provides a view of the museums lobbies that the elevators simply do not provide. Even better, when you take the stairs from the ground floor to the first floor you get the best possible viewing of Marc Chagall's A Wheatfield on a Summer Afternoon. Whether you like Chagall or not (I, personally, do not, but I do love this particular painting) this size of this painting and the brightness of the colors will take your breath away.
So give the stairs a shot. You may be surprised by what you see.
28 July 2011
Walking with a Ghost
I attended a fantastic lecture and discussion at Eastern State Penitentiary earlier this week.
The lecture and subsequent discussion focused on the site's dependence on its haunted house, Terror Behind the Walls, which takes place from September through Halloween each year. Terror Behind the Walls has been extremely popular and brought in a full 65% of ESP's operating budget in 2010. ESP staff believe that Terror Behind the Walls allows them to operate the increasingly popular daytime, history-based tours of the site and also to make much-needed improvements to the site such as a temporary roof over one of the cell blocks. Although nearly the same number of people attended the daytime tours as did Terror Behind the Walls last year, it does seem that one supports the other. People in the audience attested to this fact.
This state of affairs, however, saddens me. I love ESP and have visited several times. The staff does an excellent job of interpreting the site and are improving the connections made between ESP and the current prison situation in this country. They care very deeply about presenting an honest and accurate look at the prison's history. I wish that the organization could sustain itself without such heavy reliance on the funds brought in through Terror Behind the Walls.
One final thought. I am very conflicted about Terror Behind the Walls. On the one hand, this event supports ESP throughout the year and ESP's staff has used the funds well. But on the other hand, Terror Behind the Walls could serve to reinforce negative stereotypes about prisons, prisoners and prison guards. ESP is stuck firmly between a rock and a hard place.
I am reminded of a story about the Philadelphia History Museum published in the New York Times last December. The museum sold some pieces from its collection in order to finance renovations and the improvement of its storage facilities, etc.
ESP and the Philadelphia History Museum seem to have raised money in the best way and attempted to use the resulting funds in the most productive and ethical way possible. But have they lost something in the process?
The lecture and subsequent discussion focused on the site's dependence on its haunted house, Terror Behind the Walls, which takes place from September through Halloween each year. Terror Behind the Walls has been extremely popular and brought in a full 65% of ESP's operating budget in 2010. ESP staff believe that Terror Behind the Walls allows them to operate the increasingly popular daytime, history-based tours of the site and also to make much-needed improvements to the site such as a temporary roof over one of the cell blocks. Although nearly the same number of people attended the daytime tours as did Terror Behind the Walls last year, it does seem that one supports the other. People in the audience attested to this fact.
This state of affairs, however, saddens me. I love ESP and have visited several times. The staff does an excellent job of interpreting the site and are improving the connections made between ESP and the current prison situation in this country. They care very deeply about presenting an honest and accurate look at the prison's history. I wish that the organization could sustain itself without such heavy reliance on the funds brought in through Terror Behind the Walls.
One final thought. I am very conflicted about Terror Behind the Walls. On the one hand, this event supports ESP throughout the year and ESP's staff has used the funds well. But on the other hand, Terror Behind the Walls could serve to reinforce negative stereotypes about prisons, prisoners and prison guards. ESP is stuck firmly between a rock and a hard place.
I am reminded of a story about the Philadelphia History Museum published in the New York Times last December. The museum sold some pieces from its collection in order to finance renovations and the improvement of its storage facilities, etc.
ESP and the Philadelphia History Museum seem to have raised money in the best way and attempted to use the resulting funds in the most productive and ethical way possible. But have they lost something in the process?
16 July 2011
Better Together, Part 2
Once again, I love that the various parts of my life sometimes intersect in amazing and helpful ways.
Last week I managed to take a long stroll through the American art galleries while at work. I am ashamed to admit how infrequently I am able to visit the gallery spaces in my own museum. Because I had not visited the American art wing for such a long time, I had forgotten just how many pieces of furniture the museum owns. Not only are the pieces beautiful in their own right, but they also helped me with the collections inventory work I mentioned in an earlier post. Based on what I saw, I was able to confirm some of the identifications and date ranges I had placed on the objects with which I was working. Receiving confirmation of one's suspicions about an object can be uplifting and I will admit that I enjoyed the boost to my self esteem.
I often wonder if other museum employees neglect to visit their own museum's gallery spaces. I find myself putting the visits of for tomorrow because the galleries aren't going anywhere anytime soon. Perhaps I will make it my goal for the second half of 2011 to spend more time inside the galleries. The stuff inside them is, after all, what made me want to work in museums in the first place.
Last week I managed to take a long stroll through the American art galleries while at work. I am ashamed to admit how infrequently I am able to visit the gallery spaces in my own museum. Because I had not visited the American art wing for such a long time, I had forgotten just how many pieces of furniture the museum owns. Not only are the pieces beautiful in their own right, but they also helped me with the collections inventory work I mentioned in an earlier post. Based on what I saw, I was able to confirm some of the identifications and date ranges I had placed on the objects with which I was working. Receiving confirmation of one's suspicions about an object can be uplifting and I will admit that I enjoyed the boost to my self esteem.
I often wonder if other museum employees neglect to visit their own museum's gallery spaces. I find myself putting the visits of for tomorrow because the galleries aren't going anywhere anytime soon. Perhaps I will make it my goal for the second half of 2011 to spend more time inside the galleries. The stuff inside them is, after all, what made me want to work in museums in the first place.
04 July 2011
Wild Gardens
Yesterday my parents and I visited Longwood Gardens for the first time since my childhood. I love these sorts of "horticultural museums." I really enjoy beautiful, outdoor floral displays for the same reasons that I love paintings--they please me aesthetically. For example, take a long look at these photos:
Those individuals in charge of maintaining Longwood Gardens do amazing work. The gardens possess breathtaking beauty and we spent a very pleasant day wandering through the various sections of the grounds.
I believe, however, that the gardens miss a couple of great opportunities for historical interpretation. Perhaps the most glaring is the Peirce-du Pont House, a historic house originally built on the property in 1730. The house contains an exhibition detailing the history of the gardens and of their original owner, Pierre du Pont. The garden's story certainly needs to be told but I would have loved to have also learned about the house. A structure built so long ago deserves to be interpreted in its own right, rather than simply serving as the setting for a generic history of the gardens.
But I cannot criticize without also giving credit where it is due. Longwood Gardens has no shortage of fascinating signage, in addition to the beautiful plants and flowers. My favorite signs pointed out the various forms of Integrated Pest Management practiced by the gardens. For example, in the lily pad section of the conservatory, a small fish has been introduced to the pools of water to help contain mosquitos and other insects. The collections manager in me finds these tidbits extremely interesting. Plus, the lily pads have a beauty unlike that of most other plants.
Plan a visit to Longwood Gardens, especially if you have not visited for many years. I loved resurrecting memories of an earlier trip which I had long since forgotten.
Those individuals in charge of maintaining Longwood Gardens do amazing work. The gardens possess breathtaking beauty and we spent a very pleasant day wandering through the various sections of the grounds.
I believe, however, that the gardens miss a couple of great opportunities for historical interpretation. Perhaps the most glaring is the Peirce-du Pont House, a historic house originally built on the property in 1730. The house contains an exhibition detailing the history of the gardens and of their original owner, Pierre du Pont. The garden's story certainly needs to be told but I would have loved to have also learned about the house. A structure built so long ago deserves to be interpreted in its own right, rather than simply serving as the setting for a generic history of the gardens.
But I cannot criticize without also giving credit where it is due. Longwood Gardens has no shortage of fascinating signage, in addition to the beautiful plants and flowers. My favorite signs pointed out the various forms of Integrated Pest Management practiced by the gardens. For example, in the lily pad section of the conservatory, a small fish has been introduced to the pools of water to help contain mosquitos and other insects. The collections manager in me finds these tidbits extremely interesting. Plus, the lily pads have a beauty unlike that of most other plants.
Plan a visit to Longwood Gardens, especially if you have not visited for many years. I loved resurrecting memories of an earlier trip which I had long since forgotten.
03 July 2011
Better Together
I love when the various areas of my life intersect in unexpected and exciting ways.
First, a note on my prolonged absence from the blog. Following a health issue that took me out of commission for several weeks, I started an internship at a local historic house. I spend my days off cataloging all sorts of furniture, glass and paintings in an attempt to complete the first-ever inventory of this particular organization's collections. The emphasis in this project has been on getting the basics down on paper: a description of the object; its dimensions; and its location within the house. More in-depth analysis and research will be done later, once the full inventory has been completed.
This relatively new area of my life collided with my "real life" last weekend on a visit to Pittsburgh. I, along with my boyfriend and best friend, visited the Heinz History Center (which you should definitely check out on your next stop in the Steel City).
We strolled through a fascinating exhibition entitled Shattering Notions, which described in detail the importance of glass manufacture to the Pittsburgh region. As I studied some of the objects in the exhibition I realized that I had seen them before--when I cataloged them.
I nearly squealed with delight in the middle of the exhibition. The historic house at which I am interning has no curatorial files whatsoever. We know next to nothing about the objects in the collection or from where they may have come. And, as previously mentioned, our focus is entirely on other areas at the moment. I was naturally excited to be able to match an object to a label on a wall and take back a few valuable pieces of information. We can now correctly date several objects, as well as accurately report their manufacturer, which will eventually lead to new avenues of research.
This episode, for me at least, represents more than a strange coincidence on a weekend away or the ability to fill in gaps of knowledge for a wonderful historic house. My encounter with a piece of Pittsburgh pressed glass reminded me of something that I love about objects--they can connect us to another time and place. Just like hearing your favorite song from fifteen years ago can transport you back to the first time you heard it, seeing an object that used to belong to a grandparent can make you relive the moments you spent with them.
As museums reconsider the role that objects should play, we need to remind ourselves of the power that objects can have when used and interpreted effectively. As Stephen Conn states in his book Do Museums Still Need Objects?, objects lose relevance when "the objects cease to provide coherence to the ideas behind their collection and display, when the ideas themselves fail to coalesce into a coherent body of knowledge, and when other institutions position themselves better as producers and providers of information." When used as complements to fantastic ideas objects can help an visitor relate to an exhibition on a much deeper and more personal level than label text. Sometimes we just need a piece of pressed glass to remind us.
First, a note on my prolonged absence from the blog. Following a health issue that took me out of commission for several weeks, I started an internship at a local historic house. I spend my days off cataloging all sorts of furniture, glass and paintings in an attempt to complete the first-ever inventory of this particular organization's collections. The emphasis in this project has been on getting the basics down on paper: a description of the object; its dimensions; and its location within the house. More in-depth analysis and research will be done later, once the full inventory has been completed.
This relatively new area of my life collided with my "real life" last weekend on a visit to Pittsburgh. I, along with my boyfriend and best friend, visited the Heinz History Center (which you should definitely check out on your next stop in the Steel City).
We strolled through a fascinating exhibition entitled Shattering Notions, which described in detail the importance of glass manufacture to the Pittsburgh region. As I studied some of the objects in the exhibition I realized that I had seen them before--when I cataloged them.
I nearly squealed with delight in the middle of the exhibition. The historic house at which I am interning has no curatorial files whatsoever. We know next to nothing about the objects in the collection or from where they may have come. And, as previously mentioned, our focus is entirely on other areas at the moment. I was naturally excited to be able to match an object to a label on a wall and take back a few valuable pieces of information. We can now correctly date several objects, as well as accurately report their manufacturer, which will eventually lead to new avenues of research.
This episode, for me at least, represents more than a strange coincidence on a weekend away or the ability to fill in gaps of knowledge for a wonderful historic house. My encounter with a piece of Pittsburgh pressed glass reminded me of something that I love about objects--they can connect us to another time and place. Just like hearing your favorite song from fifteen years ago can transport you back to the first time you heard it, seeing an object that used to belong to a grandparent can make you relive the moments you spent with them.
As museums reconsider the role that objects should play, we need to remind ourselves of the power that objects can have when used and interpreted effectively. As Stephen Conn states in his book Do Museums Still Need Objects?, objects lose relevance when "the objects cease to provide coherence to the ideas behind their collection and display, when the ideas themselves fail to coalesce into a coherent body of knowledge, and when other institutions position themselves better as producers and providers of information." When used as complements to fantastic ideas objects can help an visitor relate to an exhibition on a much deeper and more personal level than label text. Sometimes we just need a piece of pressed glass to remind us.
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