This morning I woke to the sad news of David Bowie’s passing. As someone born into what Wikipedia calls Bowie’s New Wave and Pop Era (1984) and classified as Generation Y, I first heard the news via social media.
I didn’t really grow up on Bowie’s music and I’ve never seen Labyrinth, but I am aware of his wide-reaching impact and influence, and I knew most of songs my partner played in his memory, over breakfast. Consequently, the news for me did not come with the sorrow and sense of loss blatantly expressed by others.
For me, the extemporaneously curated narrative of Bowie’s life has been most inspiring. Curators and museum staff spend months and sometimes years developing exhibitions, yet my Facebook feed, which was almost exclusively Bowie, had many of the elements of a good exhibition.
The content spanned the duration of his life and career and it contained a range of mediums including film, sound, imagery, quotes and article links, as well as posts from other social media such as Twitter. It was informative, easy to navigate and had interactive features that allowed the user to delve deeper if they wished. Through passionate language and personal stories, the content was overwhelmingly successful in demonstrating how important and influential Bowie has been to artists and to pop culture over the last fifty years, making it both an emotive experience and relevant to me, through its impact on my immediate world and those around me.
The Facebook posts came from news outlets, musicians, politicians, journalists and individuals of all ages who felt Bowie’s music or film had left a mark on their lives. Most notably, many museums were also posting items from their collections and allowing people to see objects that might otherwise not be seen together in a more traditional exhibition.
Whilst a series of Facebook posts is no substitute for a museum nor does it make redundant the skills, expertise and experience of curators and other museum professionals (I’m sure this pales in comparison to the recent Bowie exhibition at ACMI and other places around the world) it does demonstrate the power of crowdsourcing museum content and the value, reach and potential impact of digital content, not as a replacement for the museum experience but as an enhancement or to improve access.
Just like the proverbial lunch, museum entry is never free. Whilst the visitor may not necessarily contribute to the cost of their visit, governments, tax payers, sponsors, donors, members and a host of other financial and in kind contributors, all ensure that museums are functional.
In a recent article in the Guardian, Jonathan Jones, suggested that the British Museum should indeed implement a fee for foreign tourist groups. Amongst other things, he argues that these tourists are paying (often hefty fees) for tour companies and guides to get to the museum yet not for the museum experience itself.
The reality in England, and also in my native Australia, is that a large number of museums are government operated and therefore, in part, funded by taxes. Taxes that tourists don’t pay. I agree with Jones, if you can afford to travel abroad, you can afford a museum entry fee.
Unfortunately, when you are dealing with people, such logic is not so simple. Museums run the risk that their venue will be replaced in the tour operators’ schedules by another free landmark, or visitors, aware that they have paid entry, may refrain from making donations or purchasing items in the gift shop. Research would need to be done to determine such an impact.
There will always be the museum enthusiast, like me, who will visit at least some museums whilst travelling and pay the required entry fees. On the other hand, it could be argued that charging admission fees contradicts museums attempts to be more inclusive and deters fence sitting visitors from walking through the door. Not only does recent research contradict the idea that cost the biggest deterrent to museum visitation, there are ways to reduce or avoid paying entry. Here in Boston, many museums provide opportunities to visit museums for free or at a heavily reduced price at certain times of the week or month. For example, entry to the Museum of Fine Arts (MFA) on Wednesday is to pay what you wish and the Harvard Art Museums offers free entry to Cantabrigians on Saturday mornings. Whilst the MFA is busy on a Wednesday, in my experience, it is certainly well frequented at other times too.
Ultimately, as Jones states, it would be great if museum entry were free, to everyone, all of the time, but that is not viable in protecting these great institutions in the current political climate. The money to run ‘free’ museums must come from somewhere, and the sheer number of volunteers in museums around the world shows that museums are not a thriving financial enterprise. It will be interesting to follow the British Museum and observe the impact of tourist entrance fees, if any, on visitation, reputation and other forms of income such as donations.
This week I returned to Boston after two months in my native Australia. I was happy that the weather is still very pleasant and that my Halloween weekend involved apple picking rather than the wintery mix of last year. Fortunately, the weather is also still beautiful enough to spend the afternoon reading a good book on the lawns of the Boston Common or Harvard Yard.
Each time I pass through Harvard Yard, I ponder my life journey and Michelle Obama’s speech at the opening of the Whitney Museum earlier this year. In short, Obama discussed the need to make public places like museums and the White House welcoming to all, and quash thoughts that certain people don’t belong there. Whilst Harvard Yard is part of a private university, it is very much a public space; it receives 45,000 tourists each year on the official Harvard tour alone. As a non-Harvard student or employee, I feel welcome and comfortable in the space, which is now one of my favourite hangouts. What I ponder is how I came to be so contented in the Yard and how it can be used in my work as a museum educator.
I grew up in a regional Australian community where tertiary education was undervalued, city living was seen as crossing the floor, and engaging with an arts and culture was seen as pretentious. I have spent much time contemplating this divide and have concluded it is complex beyond the time it takes to have my morning coffee or an evening glass of wine. My family were low to middle income earners and, at times, growing up, finances were tough. We didn’t visit museums, go to the theatre or holiday often and I was known as the “reader” in my family.
Over the last fifteen years, I have moved to the city, acquired a tertiary education, travelled extensively and begun a career in Museum Education. I have not read as much as I would have liked. Last year, I moved to Boston. The first time I sat in Harvard Yard, enjoying my lunch, reading a book and curling my toes around the grass, I felt an immense sense of pride. I had built a fulfilling and stimulating life against the social discourse of my upbringing.
Obviously, in 2015, this is easier than it would have been one hundred years ago as a woman, or in the absence of adversity, discrimination and stereotyping based on my religion, sexual preference, ethnicity or disability, yet for me it was still a grand achievement.
Furthermore, my siblings would not feel comfortable in the Yard. They would be the people Michelle Obama referred to who would say “that’s not a place for me”. Whilst part of this is self-imposed, there must also be external factors that incite such beliefs. Whilst I don’t yet have the answer, I continue to reflect upon the last fifteen years to determine how I overcame such a mentality. Better still, in my work as a museum educator, how can my own experience help to break down barriers and improve engagement, interest and accessibility for regional and low socio economic communities.
In the meantime, I’m taking my book to Harvard Yard to enjoy the last of the sun and warm weather.
The recent debate over booing Indigenous AFL player, Adam Goodes, is well beyond a sports issue. As done by just about everyone, including sports and political journalists, comedians and social commentators, I could go on about why booing Goodes is or isn’t racism. Instead, I am going to explore the opportunity this provides for education and museums.
Whilst two very different situations, #museumsrespondtoferguson provided an opportunity for American institutions to “call out inequity and racism and commit to positive change”. Likewise, Australian schools and museums can use the recent events to investigate and explore ancient indigenous history, the arrival of Europeans and indigenous social justice issues such as the 1967 referendum.
By understanding the historic relationship between Indigenous Australians and Europeans, such as the placement of Indigenous narratives and objects in the natural history sections of museums, everyone can understand the offence caused by calling Adam Goodes a monkey and telling him to go back to the zoo. Ignorance, age or gender, as has been suggested by some, should never be an excuse for poor behaviour. In contrast, it should be seen as an opportunity for learning, education and understanding. Similarly, an appreciation and understanding of Indigenous culture and traditions, can help all Australians to take an informed and educated stance on Goodes’ divisive celebration.
This is not an issue simply for history teachers or history museums. For example, science museums can investigate the genetics of historic assumptions that indigenous people were somehow inferior whilst art museums can explore the portrayal of Indigenous Australians in European art.
Teaching skills and ideologies is also important at times like these. The need to clearly define all types of racism can not be underestimated. Understanding that booing Goodes for calling out the racism of 14 year old girl is blatant in group favouritism, yet many fail to see this as it is not the direct racism we are often taught. Discriminatory practices such as in group favouritism and out group prejudice are common in our society and should be discussed as part of the debate. To avoid confrontation it can be exemplified with a more neutral concept such as cyclists and motorists. Equally, skills of analysis, articulation and composure are often lacking in these debates. As educators ensuring all Australians have the ability to construct a coherent argument supported by evidence and examples is a valuable skill to avoid unconvincing shouting responses like “I’m not racist”.
Furthermore, it is an opportunity for schools and museums to assess whether they present a balanced view on the issue. Is there a bias toward European history or absence of Indigenous art in an Australian art gallery? Is the Indigenous persepectives portrayed as the alternative rather than given equal value to characters such as Cook? Do we have an adequate representation of staff?
Whilst the conversation has been heated and controversial, it does not mean as educators we should tread lightly around the issue by avoiding it. Although Adam Goodes almost retired at the height of public debate, I am still glad the conversation was had. I only hope that as the issue of Goodes dies down, those in a position to do so, take advantage of the opportunity to address the wider social and political issues at hand and hopefully incite some social change.
In 2006 when I began teaching, a colleague of mine taught a subject called Contemporary History. I found the class memorable for its relevant, engaging and real life approach to history. He identified contemporary, headlining news stories and explored the historical context. For example, in 2015, the subject would explore historical immigration trends and behaviours, Gallipoli, aircraft safety, the war on terror, Syria and capital punishment.
Today Dzhokhar Tsarnaev was sentenced to death for his role in the Boston Marathon Bombing. This comes just two weeks after the execution of convicted drug traffickers and bali nine pair, Andrew Chan and Myuran Sukumaran. The debate in Australia was front page news, for weeks, if not months. Some people argued do the crime, do the time, or they knew the risk whilst at the other extremity the belief centred on the death penalty never being okay. The majority of the debate occurred somewhere within these two black and white beliefs. Contradictions, hypocrisy and inconsistencies were raised, such as Australia’s support for the death penalty for the bali bombing but not for their own citizens, and Australia’s criticism of the death penalty in Asia but not toward other allies such as America. By all accounts, Bostonians are equally divided on the death penalty for Tsarnaev, but more complex the reasons cited. For example, the family of Martin Richards, the young boy killed in the Boston Marathon Bombing opposed the death penalty so there weren’t lengthy appeals, rather than the immorality of the death penalty or the suffering of his family; issues raised in Australia.
As a museum professional, in recent weeks, my thoughts have returned to the role of museums in contemporary history and issues. For the record, I am an advocate for issues based exhibitions and programming. As my partner moved to the US last year, I have taken an increasing interest in their political situation and museology. In doing this, I have noticed issues based exhibitions and empathetic museums are exponentially more topical than they are in Australia. After the events in Ferguson, museums unified under the Twitter hashtag #museumsrespondtoferguson and a number of museum bloggers issues a joint statement; Rainey Tisdale – City Stories, Nina Simon – Museum 2.0, the incluseum and many more. Furthermore, key museum bodies such as NEMA and AALSH made statements supporting the museums and advocating for the museums “to enter the fray of public discourse” and the power they possess to contribute to collective narratives and “awaken a passion in citizens.”
To me the same arguments apply to the debate around capital punishment. There are arguments for and against capital punishment. There are also countless facts, figures and exemplary stories to support each discussion. Museums do not have to take a stance on the issue, they need merely be a safe place for sensical discussion and access to accurate and relevant information and objects. The topic is also relevant to many types of museums, science museums can look at the biological, physical, psychological effects on humans as well as the scientific rational and evolution of execution methods. History museums spanning war, community history, women, politics, to name a few, all have relevant and meaningful ways to engage with the topic. Likewise, art museums can explore both the portrayal of historical executions and the social and civic works which challenge or support the idea.
I look forward to seeing the evolution of empathetic and issues based museums in the Australian context. I also look forward to seeing how this debate over capital punishment continues in the media, the public and hopefully the museum sector.
There are many contentions surrounding museum collections. High profile repatriation and provenance cases such as the Parthenon marbles are frequently discussed both within the sector and in the media. The issues are complex and they continue to reappear as there is no right or wrong answer or a one size fits all fix. Fortunately, some cases are clear cut when determining what is right and wrong such as souveniring from an historic site or a key landmark.
When I visited the museum for the first time last year, both as a visitor and museum programmer, I was amazed and astonished by the powerful account of the thefts as told by the exhibits. The same impact cannot be found in any book, podcast or in the virtual tour. This is one of those museum experiences that cannot be replaced by technology and innovation.
Despite anticipating the empty frames from the moment I arrived, I overlooked the small painting missing from the Blue Room on the first floor. It was not until the Short Gallery, on the second floor, almost half way through the museum that I noticed a gap and a brief label explaining the loss. To someone whose art knowledge is somewhat lacking, it blatantly demonstrated the complexity and malice of the theft. The thieves had largely ignored the exquisite pottery, furniture and paintings of the first floor in search of these small Duget drawings in a cabinet. They knew the collection, the museum layout and the value of the pieces. Likewise, they had specifically taken very valuable works by Vermeer and Rembrandt in the nearby Dutch Gallery. In this room, the pristine condition of each of the preceding rooms only exaggerated the impact of the large, empty frames.
Anyone with information about the stolen artworks and/or the investigation should contact Anthony Amore, Director of Security at the Gardner Museum, at 617 278 5114 or email@example.com. http://www.gardnermuseum.org/resources/theft
This week Edutopia reposted an article about student engagement by Heather Wolpert-Gawron. Heather asked 220 of her eighth grader “What Engages Students?” and uncovered ten common themes. Whilst they are relevant to the eighth grade classroom, they are also applicable to museum visitor engagement and many of the ideas are supported by museum specific research. Below I’ve elaborated on Heather’s students’ ten common themes in the context of the museum learning experiences.
1. Working with their peers
Students claimed that “teens find it most interesting and exciting when there is a little bit of talking involved. Discussions…allow students to participate…”
The desire for a peer based, social experience in a museum context extends well beyond the teen market. The after hours museum bar model, heavily adopted in recent years, is targeted primarily at young adults. Likewise, research, such as that done at the Whitney Museum of American Art, shows that adults have a desire for social elements to be included in their museum experience including;
places to sit so people can relax and talk about what they’ve seen; add social media functions (e.g., sharing pictures on social media sites such as Facebook, pinging people nearby); incorporate question prompts that would encourage visitors to discuss topics with others in their group
Students say, “I believe that when students participate in “learning by doing” it helps them focus more. Technology helps them to do that. Students will always be extremely excited when using technology.”
“We have entered a digital age of video, Facebook, Twitter, etc., and they [have] become more of a daily thing for teens and students. When we use tech, it engages me more and lets me understand the concept more clearly.”
The reality is, smart phones and social media are a daily thing for a much wider demographic than teens and students. In 2013, according to the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS), 85% of Australians accessed the internet via their handset and just under half of Australians, 9.5 million, accessed Facebook on their phone. The incorporation of social media into a museum visit satisfies the visitors’ need for social experience, makes the experience more familiar and is often great marketing for the museum. Technology is also another means by which to develop a participatory, hands on experience or continue the experience online after the museum visit has concluded.
3. Connecting the real world to the work we do/project based learning
Students want, “…relations between the text and the outside world. For example, I was in a history class last year…after every lesson, every essay, every assignment, he asked us, “How does this event relate to current times?” It brought me to a greater thinking, a kind of thinking where I can relate the past to the present and how closely they are bonded together.”
Students claimed that “If you relate the topic to the students’ lives, then it makes the concept easier to grasp.”
“To be able to understand and connect with the moment is what will make students three times more enthusiastic about learning beyond the black and white of the Times New Roman text.”
“Also something challenging and not easy, something to test your strengths as a student and stimulate your brain, so it becomes easier to deal with similar problems when you are grown up and have a job.”
All kinds of museums are well placed to contextualise current issues, events or anniversaries. Collections tell the narratives of the community they represent through their owners, use and acquisition as well as how they influenced the world today. Establishing a connection with the audience through empathy, place or common experience can invoke interest in any topic from history to science to art, and everything in between. A desire for more real world experiences supports the interdisciplinary approach of many museums.
4. Clearly love what you do
Students say, “teachers should speak to us like they’re really passionate about teaching.”
“”I also believe that enthusiasm in the classroom really makes a student engaged in classroom discussions. I also believe that excitement and enthusiasm is contagious.”
I am a self proclaimed history, education and museum nerd. I am excited, infuriated and intrigued by topical articles that pop up in my social media feeds, in the news or on my desk. For the last five years, I have worked in the education department of a history museum and I like to think that the enthusiasm for my work, shown by the teachers and students, is in part due to the passion, knowledge and willingness I project. A museum that takes pride in its work through its exhibitions, its programming and its customer service can only serve to improve any visitors’ experience. We have all experience bad customer service at a restaurant or a shop and through twice about returning.
5. Get me out of my seat!
“When a student is active they learn in a deeper way than sitting. For example, in my history class, we had a debate on whether SOPA and PIPA were good ideas. My teacher had us stand on either ends of the room to state whether we agree or disagree with the proposition. By doing this, I was able to listen to what all my classmates had to say.”
Body language is a key indicator of visitor engagement. Visitors slumped on couches at the end of the exhibition waiting for the rest of their group or slouched in front of an artwork are familiar sites to any museumgoer. As the students surveyed suggest, it’s much easier to fall asleep or tune out when you are seated at a desk for a long period of time and are part of a passive experience; and it is exacerbated by heat, darkness and other factors. Whilst museum visitors aren’t typically seated, participatory practices are shown to increase behaviours such as walking around to observe all sides of an object, close up viewing, group discussion and longer visit times. (Spires, 1989 and http://mw2013.museumsandtheweb.com/paper/lessons-learned-evaluating-the-whitneys-multimedia-guide/ )
6. Bring in visuals
“I like to see pictures because it makes my understanding on a topic clearer.”
“I am interested when there are lots of visuals to go with the lesson. Power Points are often nice, but they get boring… Pictures and cartoons usually are the best way to get attention.”
Psychologist Howard Gardner’s theory of multiple intelligences has been around for a long time now and is well referenced in education. As Gardner says, the implication for education is that ideas should be taught in multiple ways and with consideration of how each individual student learns best based on their intelligence/s (eg. visual, verbal, musical etc.). The students’ comments support this idea by saying they prefer pluralization and diversity. Intelligences and preferred learning styles rarely change with age meaning that how people learn should be a key consideration in planning exhibitions and programs, and that as many learning styles and intelligences as possible should be accommodated.
7. Student Choice
“I think having freedom in assignments, project directions, and more choices would engage students…More variety = more space for creativity.”
“Giving students choices helps us use our strengths and gives us freedom to make a project the way we want it to. When we do something we like, we’re more focused and enjoy school more.”
“Another way is to make the curriculum flexible for students who are more/less advanced. There could be a list of project choices and student can pick from that according to their level.”
Vygotsky advocates for scaffolded or layer learning. Museums have an eclectic range of visitors traversing many demographics. Exhibition development and programming should consider scaffolding to accommodate, for example, both the academic audience who is well versed in the subject knowledge, and tourists with very little background knowledge or interest. Giving all visitors choice allows them to focus on their areas of interest and work within the parameters of their existing knowledge. My partner and I both enjoy 18th century landscape and cityscape paintings so usually spend the most time in this gallery. Similarly, I studied Ancient Roman history as part of my Bachelor of Arts and on a recent visit to the Museum of Fine Arts spent a disproportionate amount of time in the Greek and Roman galleries, swooning over mosaics and pots.
8. Understand your clients
“If the teacher shows us that they are confident in our abilities and has a welcoming and well-spirited personality towards us, we feel more capable of doing the things we couldn’t do…What I’m trying to say is students are more engaged when they feel they are in a “partnership” with their teacher.”
“Personally, I think that students don’t really like to be treated as ‘students.’…They need to ask for our input on how the students feel about a project, a test, etc…See from our point of view and embrace it.”
“…everyone should feel comfortable so that they are encouraged to raise their hands to ask questions or ask for help.”
“Teachers should know that within every class they teach, the students are all different.”
Research indicates that young adults often find museums unapproachable and sterile, and dislike a museum experience where knowledge is dictated. Nina Simon in The Participatory Museum talks of participation including visitors as respected collaborators. This does not mean handing over the museum to the visitor and disregarding the qualifications and experience of the staff. Instead, museums become facilitators of discussions, learning and experiences, within the parameters set and hopefully in a way that achieves the museum’s desired outcome. Part of this does involving at least consultation with visitors about their expectations and to make them feel like valued members of the museum community.
9.Mix it Up!
“I don’t like doing only one constant activity…a variety will keep me engaged in the topic. It’s not just for work, but also for other things such as food. Eating the same foods constantly makes you not want to eat!”
“Fun experiments in science class…acting out little skits in history…if students are going to remember something, they need visuals, some auditory lessons, and some emotions.”
“Also, you can’t go wrong with some comedy. Everyone loves a laugh…another thing that engages me would be class or group games. In Language Arts I’ve played a game of “dodge ball. We throw words at each other, one at a time. If they could get the definition, the person who threw the word would be out…Students remember the ones they got wrong, and of course, the ones they already knew.”
Mixing up the museum experience may be daunting for the museums staff, but is what people come to expect. The eighth graders surveyed for the Edutopia article will be disengaged museum visitors within five years. Whilst they will grown up, mature and evolve their desire to have fun, diversity and laugh will not diminish. In order to engage them in the museum, their desire for choice and interdisciplinary experiences can not be ignored.
10. Be human
Don’t forget to have a little fun yourself.”
Museums are slowly opening up. The Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, now have some of their conservation labs behind glass in view of the public. The museum should not be a secret, if we humanise ourselves we can address some of the issues of approachability. I have worked in recent years primarily with communities in regional Australia. At first, as ‘city person’ I have faced adversity and hesitation from teachers, students and community groups. However when I reveal that I grew up in the country and reveal a little of myself, the walls come down.
As an educator, these principles are Education theory 101 but I hope to see learning theory spread more broadly through the museum sector as we are all in the business of learning and, hopefully, fun too!
The second annual #MuseumSelfie day took place around the world last Wednesday, 21 January. The day was started by Mar Dixon via the Culture Themes website which is also behind days like #AskACurator. Further information can be found here. At Mar’s insistence on the Culture Themes site, I have left my thoughts on #MuseumSelfie Day until after the fact, and also because I didn’t get around to it on the day.
As is so often the case with anything related to technology, social media or change the day, is polarising. See here and here, for example. Personally, I fall in the camp of #MuseumSelfie day supporters. My initial reaction to last year’s inaugural day was ‘shouldn’t that be everyday? This year’s headline from CNN “Selfies turn museums into playgrounds for a day” also had me scratching my head and frowning. I thought museums were making progress in moving away from their boring and unapproachable image, obviously not.
Fortunately, many museums are bold supporters of the day. The selfie that seemed to make the most waves, this year, came from the director of Museum of Fine Arts in my new home town of Boston. Mars Dixon, on her website, admitted this even exceeded her expectations for the day.
A search of the hashtag #MuseumSelfie on Twitter provided me with a convincing snapshot of the success and diversity of the day, a view shared by fellow museum worker, Emily Oswald. The Twitter feed includes selfies from both museum visitors and staff, intertwined with newspaper articles and bloggers’ commentaries. It also spans a number of days as the #MuseumSelfie traverses the globe in multiple languages. The hashtag also extends to other social media platforms such as flickr, Facebook, Instagram and YouTube.
A Google search of the term yields almost three million web results. Articles on Google extend far beyond a collection of ‘best of’ images. For example, they debate the use of social media and technology in museums, review people’s behaviour or like Boston.com, The Guardian and NY Mag, they provide instructional and categorical information on the types of selfies people can take.
A museum event so broadly spanning time, place and demographic, surely can not be viewed negatively. Rather it should be praised for increasing museum awareness and being accessible to the underrepresented museum audience.
Whilst increased access is a positive, I do also believe in quality, meaningful visitor experiences. My favourite #MuseumSelfie this year came from the Ashmolean Museum and shows a young Felicity copying the expression from a William Blake work. It shows fun, worthwhile engagement, the kind that we encourage in student and family programming. This #MuseumSelfie reflects an understanding of the work as it could only be achieved by first studying the art. It also provides an opportunity for discussion and reflection. Why did you choose this image for your selfie? What emotion do you need to show to copy this painting? Does the painting actually make you feel like this? How?
Emily Oswald also noticed the high level of engagement and understanding evident in some #MuseumSelfies claiming that this “kind of looking is at the heart of visual thinking strategies”. With so many art galleries aspiring to VTS programming techniques, how can #MuseumSelfie Day be a complete waste? Whilst the day does provide some capacity for high end experiences, as with any initiative it requires a degree of investment and commitment. It could be compared to youth specific night events where some museums excel at selecting pub topic themes and objects for display and discussion whilst others simply turn their function area into a night club where visitors don’t actually engage with any exhibits at all.
Museum youth nights happen after hours so as to not disturb day time visitors with loud music or deter family visitors with the prevalence of alcohol. Expansion of museum programs should be just that; a growth, not a substitution. #MuseumSelfie day should not be different. And in my experience it is not. Contrary to some complaints, I have never had a museum experience negatively impacted by another visitor’s selfie. I have, however, been hit by a visitor stepping back to capture everyone in a group shot and I have been walked into by someone listening to audio tour. I’m not saying I want to ban these things, I am saying that selfies are really not offensive. Certainly, as demonstrated on social media, they do increase around late January, so if you don’t like them, don’t visit. The same way people who don’t like families or children don’t visit in the holidays. If by chance you do encounter a self centred selfie taker, than alert security, if they don’t get there first. Alternatively, a little ‘excuse me’ will work wonders and more than likely receive an apology.
Whilst selfies may seem like a 21st century phenomenon, (The Oxford Dictionary proclaimed selfie word of the year in 2013) they are not a 21st century invention. For example, Buzz Aldrin took a selfie on the moon almost fifty years ago. If we broaden the term to encompass painted or drawn self portraits from eras before the camera, selfies have been around for hundred of years. In fact, many of these selfies are held in conservative and traditional areas of the museums in question. For those who suggest selfies are a sign of our increasingly self indulgent society, I ask, how is an oversized self portrait painting hung in your sitting room or a museum any different to posting a selfie on social media? Undisputedly the selfie in the 21st century is far more widespread than it was even twenty years ago but is that a result of increased arrogance or technological advances? I remember that in the 80s and 90s taking photos was a carefully considered activity, limited by the amount of shots on the film and the high costs of processing. Unlike years past, people now carry a camera in their mobile phone with the capacity to take thousands of photos. The reality is technology, selfies and social media are not going to disappear nor are they something the younger generations will grow out of as they age, rather, the average age of Facebook users is steadily increasing.
So, much like the Friday night DJs at the gallery, or the pop up bar at the history museum, if you want to join in with #MuseumSelfie day next year, or #AskACurator jump on board. If not, embrace diversity and inclusivity. Museums offer a wide range of experiences, find one that you’ll enjoy and go for it, but let others enjoy the museum their way. All forms of art whether it be museums, fine arts, music, theatre, film or television are ultimately a subjective industry. After all, your preferred museum experience might be the exception one day and you don’t want others pushing you out of the museum, do you?
Last week an article from the Guardian, written by Paul Daley, appeared in my Facebook feed. Motivated by the words; Anzac, nationalism and war, I clicked through. The article discusses the State Library of NSW’s recently digitised collection of First World War diaries, however Daley opens with a rather critical reflection of Australia’s interpretation of the events and impact of the Great War. Building on a similar belief, held by historian, Geoffrey Serle in the 1960s, labelled Anzackery, Daley believes that
“political leaders, officials, national institutions and journalists [continue to] perpetuate the absurd proposition that nationhood emerged not amid 60,000 years of continuous Indigenous settlement or even at federation, but with 8700 Australian deaths under a British flag at Gallipoli?”
As a history teacher and museum educator at a war memorial, I can only agree with Daley. In my experience the average Australian sees my work to be centred on Gallipoli and Anzac Day. Their perceptions of war are heavily influenced by film, games and pop culture, some even needing to be reminded that in a real war, you can not simply hit reset. Many see war service as a never ending combat role in which everyone fights to the death minimising the impact of 60,000 Australian deaths First World War equating to “only” 20% of those who enlisted. Worse still, are those who are disappointed, and feel somewhat ‘unAustralian’ that their relative survived, didn’t serve at Gallipoli or did not serve in a combat role. My work strives to show that Gallipoli was an eight month campaign of a war that lasted more than fifty months. I acknowledge the crucial and dangerous jobs of those in supporting roles and I place emphasis on the physical and psychological wounds, some permanent, that lasted long after the armistice was signed and the gunfire ceased on 11 November 1918.
With Daley’s article fresh in my mind and my personal experiences and frustrations continuing to simmer, I went to the Melbourne Museum on New Year’s Day to see their exhibition WWI: Love and Sorrow. Besides the free entry I received on the day due to a computer glitch, here are some of the things I want to write home about.
Its Position in the Museum.
One would expect to find a First World War exhibition in the history section of a museum. In a decision, that I’m sure was widely, and perhaps contentiously, discussed, this exhibition is housed in the Mind and Body science galleries, as it focuses primarily on the “impact of war on Australian families”.
Anyone who has worked with me will know that the impact of war on service people, their families and local communities is of particular interest to me. Marina Larsson, who I was please to see assisted with this exhibition, writes much about this in her book Shattered Anzacs, which is a regular ‘go to’ book for me.
Learning Principles and Empathy
Inquiry Based Learning is one of my preferred approaches to teaching and learning. In simple terms, it is the posing of questions to encourage participation, investigation and reflection which, in turn, develops understanding, enhances skills and allows a personalised, relatable connection with the topic, idea or object. This exhibition draws heavily of this approach with an apparent view to create understanding and empathy. Rather than starting the label with the object description, as is traditional, it merely poses a question.
An Inquiry Based Learning approach allows the visitor to be an active museum participant rather than a passive viewer. It encourages skills of analysis and critique rather than an unequivocal acceptance of the information provided. It also allows a multi demographical experience. For example, a small child might respond to the above question with “that would be boring”, “it would be hard to get around” or “I couldn’t play football anymore”. On the other hand, an adult might reflect upon their personal experience of looking after a wheelchair bound relative and the challenges of every day tasks such as showering as well as the psychological impacts on both carer and relative. Each have understood the impact of war on Australian families and empathised, within their own limitations, with the experience.
Whilst a great tool, understanding, connectedness and empathy can only occur if the question posed is relatable to the audience. The same task would not be effective if the object was unfamiliar such as a piece of obscure medical equipment or if the concept was unknown such as asking people who lived in central Australia to empathise with living on the coast. The questions selected by Melbourne Museum, whilst simple, have been well chosen. I have also included a favourite classroom example of creating relatable learning experiences which has been circulating around the internet.
Humanising Service People and Exploring the Wider Impact.
This exhibition strays from a traditional museum hang, to reimagine an early 20th century fireplace mantel, complete with bronze frames and photos of all members of the family at varying times in their life. The family theme continues as eight individual narratives are followed through to the post war period, or in the instance of those who did not return, their family members. This approach, intentional or otherwise, provides a more accurate gender reflection of the population at the time. The narrative of mother, Eliza Amery, most resonated with me as both the most tragic story, and the one to be most likely to be lost in an Anzackery narrative.
Whilst some may label it intrusive, confronting or inappropriate, I was pleasantly surprised by the frank but tactful approach to these narratives including the mention of suicide. I also appreciated the graphic visuals throughout the exhibition including images of amputees and those with facial disfiguration. In my opinion, censoring stories and images of war and its impacts shows a grave injustice and disrespect to those who suffered. Museum CEO, David Greene and exhibition curator, Deborah Tout Smith appear to share my sentiment describing the exhibition as emotional, challenging, painful and confronting but offer no apologies for their approach.
My absolute favourite part of the exhibition is the suburban street audio visual interactive. Visitors can tap on a house in the street and see who enlisted from that address, an overview of their service and in some cases other close relatives, not living at that address, who also enlisted. As well as showing how many of the individual stories throughout the exhibition are intertwined, it demonstrates to visitors the intensity of enlistment and the war’s wide reaching impact on a small community which can then be applied to their street, suburb or town. This is somewhat like an idea I had a couple of years ago to place the extensive list on names on the honour roll at the Brunswick Town Hall onto a map. An idea that fell by the wayside due to its sheer intensity; both time consuming and emotionally draining.
My experience at Love and Sorrow was very much issues based, however, the exhibition is object rich with over 300 items on display in a rather small space. Each of the individual narratives include a number of items both from the museum’s collection and on loan. Many of these are unassuming and as a single item would bear little significance or emotional impact. Yet, when displayed together, and thoughtfully curated with additional narrative and modern audio visual contributions of descendants, each of the individual stories is captivating, holistic and informative.
If you don’t talk about the battles, aren’t you being and exclusionary as all of the people you are criticizing?
Naturally, the greatest understanding of a wartime experience comes from an intricate study of the topic. Indeed, there are more resources available than one could utilise in a lifetime of research. In reality, most people do not have a keen interest in military history, nor do curators and museums have an infinite amount of space, time and money to invest in educating the public on the topic. The average Australian learns much of their military history from brief units studied at school, a short museum visit or as interest sparks around Anzac Day each year. Whilst an understanding of the introduction of gas warfare or machine guns is required to discuss the wounds they inflict, it is preferable that snapshot learning emphaises the individual approach and the maimed, scarred and broken men and women of Love and Sorrow.
To put it into perspective, more than 60,000 Australians were killed in the First World War and 63 received a Victoria Cross. Whilst the story of Albert Jacka’s Victoria Cross at Gallipoli is a key part of the First World War his successes in the trenches were an exception rather than the norm. Furthermore, little else is known about Jacka, before, during and after the war, removing his human status. Jacka was not renowned for possessing the Anzac qualities with which he is associated today; his ability to work in a team environment was questionable. His invincible image is quashed once one reads the details of his time at Caulfield Military Hospital where he died a slow, painful and very public death as a result of his war wounds. Whilst successes should be acknowledged, it should not be at the expense of the whole story. The approach of Love and Sorrow is one I would like to see more over the next five years so that the average Australian’s perceptions of First World War, reflects the experience of a wider cross section of Australians and that everyone can be proud of their family member’s contribution to the war effort.
Melbourne Museum will host an Imperial War Museum exhibition focused more heavily on service, and sadly, Gallipoli. This will allow them to provides even greater context for their Love and Sorrow exhibition and I trust they will encourage visitors to experience both exhibitions as a complement to each other.
When this image popped up in my Facebook feed around 12 months ago, I reposted it with a comment like “Ah, see it’s not just us!” Instantly I was ashamed by my immature and superficial response to what I perceive as a complicated issue; the use of screens in the modern world, particularly by my own generation, GenY.
Sadly this is the way of the media today. Short, sharp sound bites, catch phrases and images are an acceptable way to engage in discussion and debate. On Australian television’s The Chaser’s Media Circus (Episode 4) they mentioned political sound bites of years past, lasting in excess of a minute. Equal blame needs to fall on users who elect to consume such a style of media as much as it does on the producers themselves.
In 2014, NPR conducted an April Fools’ Day experiment to gauge how many people actually read an article posted on Facebook before weighing into the discussion in the comments’ section. http://www.npr.org/2014/04/01/297690717/why-doesnt-america-read-anymore Unsurprisingly hundreds of people had an opinion on America’s literary habits based solely on the headline without opening the link to see they were part of a prank, or to read the comments of those before them.
Back to our 1960s photos and back to screens. There are two main concerns I have when discussing screen use and its impact on any range of things from intelligence to social ability. Firstly the term ‘screens’ is too generic to engage in any substantive critique and, heaven forbid, any thorough academic research. A screen can be a television, tablet, phone or computer. Secondly, the emphasis on the technology rather than the activity it facilitates is a pet hate of mine. To use two real life examples, I once sat next to a guy on a Melbourne tram who was looking at a website of pornographic images on his iPhone, at 5pm in the afternoon. In contrast, whilst completing my Masters thesis, I spent much of my tram time reading journal articles on my iPad. Should we really compare tram time screen time by critiquing the time we spend in front of our Apple devices or is it more sensical to ignore the type of device and focus on the tasks we use them for?
As everyone knows, smartphones are much more than a phone of the past. By way of reference, I arrived in Boston from Melbourne almost three weeks ago and used the phone function on my iPhone for the first time today. My iPhone and tablet have essentially made obsolete my book, DVD and CD collections, my newspaper subscription and my Melways (Melbourne’s map publication). In a travel sense, a series of Boston travel apps have negated the need for a Lonely Planet and Facebook has made sending postcards a superfluous task. You may even be reading this blog on a ‘screen’ device. Ultimately, much like a 1960s newspaper, the smartphone/tablet has something for everyone. Whether you’re a fan of the world news, wanting to find out today’s weather or seeking a laugh from the day’s comics, your smart phone has it all. By way of example, the newspaper, printed overnight, gives the day’s weather forecast in simple terms; a minimum and maximum forecast and a pictorial representation of whether there will be sun, rain, cloud, wind or snow. My ACCUWeather app for Boston provides current temperatures, humidity, UV, Wind, precipitation, cloud cover data just to name a few as well as hourly forecasts. (You should really get on board!) Whilst ACCUWeather is not the ultimate use of an iPhone, nor is it data that we essentially need to know or can manipulate however it does at a simple level exemplify how screens can enhance and enrich a traditional experience and thus should not be universally attacked.
All of this was inspired by an article in The Guardian, the online version of course, discussing mobile technology and art. http://www.thegardian.com/culture-professionals-network/2014/nov/11/-sp-mobile-tech-art-shakespear-google-glass It includes a quote from Ruth Mackenzie, interim CEO and creative director of the Space, a digital platform for the Arts available in the UK. “The average person looks at their mobile 100 times a day…What if, instead of playing Candy Crush, you did art?” Again, my sound bite, superficial response was “Yes, that’s what I’ve been saying!”
My initial post went into some detail as to how to differentiate and encourage what I consider meaningful and useful screen time over “Candy Crush” time particularly in regards to museums. However, it is impossible to do so in a practical way in this forum. Ultimately, what I’m encouraging today is an open minded approach to screen related discussions and I hope I have provided some food for thought.