MAKING MUSINGS PART 5: IT TAKES (MORE THAN) TWO

Letter from the Editors | Kathleen Lew & Amy Intrator

---

This is the fifth and final post of a series in celebration of the Master of Museum Studies program at the University of Toronto's 50th anniversary (MMSt50). To reflect on Musings' past, present, and future, we invited all previous Editors-in-Chief to return to Musings to write special Letter from the Editor posts. These articles highlight the significance of Musings both within the MMSt program, and for writers' professional careers. Kathleen Lew and Amy Intrator are the fifth (and outgoing!) Editors-in-Chief of Musings from 2018-2019.

As the first ever Musings Editor-in-Chief team, this year has been an extremely rewarding exercise of collaboration. We hope this practice of community– among Musings Executive, Contributing Editors, MMSt, and wider museum communities– continues with future years of blogging.

Musings' 5th Birthday Party: Amy Intrator [Left] and Kathleen Lew [Right]. Photo courtesy of Musings.

In Summer of 2018, we sat at a coffee shop in Kensington market and talked at length about our goals for Musings. This included creating a writing environment in which Contributing Editors felt comfortable asking each other for guidance and insight, further integrating ourselves into the MMSt community, and continuing to collaborate with institutions. Soon enough we had updated the Musings interface and logos, incorporated two new response-based columns (Program Reviews and Muse News), and were reaching out to fellow MMSt students, faculty, and alumni to join our community.

Part I of the Musings team celebrating #MuseumSelfieDay! Check out these awesome photos from @ROMtoronto to @pompeii_sites. #museumselfie #PhiladelphiasMagicGarden #templeofRamsesVI #MuseumSelfieDay2019 pic.twitter.com/j843TjLUKQ

— Musings MMSt (@musingsmmst) January 16, 2019

We made some major strides this year, but absolutely none of this would be possible without our committed Contributing Editors. We started our tenure as Editors-in-Chief as a duo, but our team grew larger and stronger as the year went on. In September, we were lucky to have Jordan Fee join Musings as the Communications Officer (you may recognize his handiwork if you frequent our Instagram page). We know it’s impossible to do justice to our amazing writers in a short blog post, but here is a list of some of our must-read articles written by some marvelous Musers:

1. Rebecca Barrett - WEIRD HERITAGE: 6 OF TORONTO'S QUIRKIEST LANDMARKS
2. Keelan Cashmore - ACCESSIBILITY: MORE THAN A BUTTON ON A DOOR
3. Elizabeth Cytko - MANAGEMENT SKILLS, ENVIRONMENTAL SCANNING AND GOSSIP: ALUMNI CHECK-IN WITH DEBORAH ROBICHAUD
4. Rachel Dice - MORE THAN CLOTHES
5. Jordan Fee - "I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THAT RIGHT NOW": HOW ANTHROPOCENE SUCCEEDS IN STAYING SILENT
6. Evelyn Feldman - ALLOWING "PUSSY" IN THE LIBRARY: ART CONTROVERSY ACROSS GLAM SPACES
7. Alexandra Forand - WE NEED TO TALK, OR NOT: LANGUAGE IN MUSEUMS AS A FORM OF CONTROL
8. Carly Hall - LET'S TALK ABOUT "POWER AND POSSESSION: THE ETHICS OF COLLECTING"
9. Casarina Hocevar - FINDING FOODWAYS, PART I.
10. Maddy Howard - WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS
11. Selin Kahramanoglu - MONSTERS ON DISPLAY: AN EXHIBITION AT THE THOMAS FISHER RARE BOOK LIBRARY
12. Samantha Kilpatrick- A FUTURE TO IMAGINE FOR
13. Amelia Smith - WHERE'S THE T? TRANSGENDER INCLUSION IN THE MUSEUM
14. Samantha Summers - DANCING THROUGH LIFE: MMSt ALUM JOHN DALRYMPLE ON HIS WORK AT CANADA’S NATIONAL BALLET SCHOOL
15. Joanna Wreakes - MUSEUMS OR NOT? PART 3: SUBWAY SERIES STOCKHOLM

In addition to being Editors-in-Chief, we both continued our true passion project: writing for Musings! Here are a couple of our articles that we’re especially proud of...

Kathleen - GLOSSY GAL PALS MAKE THEIR OWN MUSES

Amy - EXHIBITING BANKSY: ACCESSIBLE ART OR VIOLATION OF ARTISTIC INTENT?

This year, three of our Contributing Editors created columns that addressed some of the most pressing issues in museums today. Amelia started Not Your Average Cistory, a column that aims to bridge the gap between Transgender Studies and Museum Studies. Ally started Breaking the Glass Case, a column dedicated to exploring the relationship between Indigenous communities and cultural heritage organizations. Evelyn started GLAM Guide, a column that looks at the intersections between galleries, libraries, archives, and museums. All of these columns are necessary additions to the Musings roster, and we can’t wait to see the future direction of the columns as they continue to evolve over time.

Having a team that consistently delivered awe-worthy content made it easier to expand our focus to include more outreach and professional development. For our first-EVER writing workshop, held in November, Sarah Hill from Lord Cultural Resources led a workshop about risk-taking and digital strategies. The workshop went so well that we offered a second one in March, led by Pym Buitenhuis, the Director of Marketing at Rotman School of Management, which focused on transferable writing skills. The workshops were possible thanks to the support of the MMSt50 organizing committee, who have been hard at work all year to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Master of Museum Studies program. The partnership with MMSt50 is proof that collaboration makes Musings stronger.

Celebrating the past, present, and future of Musings! Photo courtesy of Musings. 

Although parting is such sweet sorrow, we are immensely grateful that we got to throw a 5th birthday party for Musings and celebrate the blog’s contributions over the past 5 years with Contributing Editors, alumni, faculty, and MMSt students. It is an enormous privilege to be a part of Musings’ legacy. We had the opportunity to celebrate this legacy with the Making Musings series, where we reconnected to all past EICs and continued to learn from the inspiring accomplishments of Jaime, Madeline, Natania, and Serena. We can’t wait to watch Musings evolve over the next 5-years and challenge the museum field to become a more critical, inclusive space.

Thank you to all of our readers for joining us on this year-long journey. These two Editors-in-Chief can’t wait to become two of Musings' most passionate readers and strongest advocates.

Source.

NO KIDS ALLOWED!

Museum Innovations | Keelan Cashmore

---

If you have visited a museum recently, chances are you’ve seen a wide variety of programs dedicated to patrons under the age of the 18. These could include mommy and me events, holiday programs, summer camps, and more. Museums are striving to become inclusive spaces that provide fun for the whole family.

While this is great for families, especially those with young children, what about patrons who would prefer a kid-free experience?

More and more museums are developing events and programs geared to this demographic.

The Royal British Columbia Museum (RBCM) located in Victoria, British Columbia, holds four different types of adult only events.

One of the exhibits at the Royal British Columbia Museum. Source.

These are: night shift, grown-up camp, museum happy hour, and night at the museum.

Each event provides adults the chance to experience special programming designed just for them, free of children or underage teenagers.

Night shift is “an opportunity to visit the museum for an evening of presentations, live music, and exciting interaction with museum and community experts.” This event is held twice a year, on Halloween and New Years, and each event promotes a different theme.

Grown-up camp is defined as “a twist on nostalgic summer camp themes” and allows adults the chance to participate in either a day camp, or a sleepover camp, at the museum. This is a recurring event that takes places throughout the year.

Museum happy hour is an after-work event where adults can partake in new food and drink specials, explore the galleries, and take part in themed activities. Like grown-up camp, this is a recurring event throughout the year.

The final adults only event, is entitled Night at the Museum – Adults Only! This is a recurring sleepover camp strictly for those of legal age. Event activities include "food, drinks, and adventurous thematic-themed excursions throughout the museum.”

Each of these activities allows adults to get involved in the museum, while providing them with fun and entertainment. Who said kids are the only ones who should have entertaining programs?

This idea of adult only events has been picking up speed within the museum community. The Royal Alberta Museum (RAM) in Edmonton, Alberta, recently reopened, has also included adult only events in their programming with the development of “Evening at the Museum” where those 18+ can relax with food, drinks, music, and a relaxed atmosphere.

One of the exhibits at the Royal Alberta Museum. Source.

Traditional institutions are not the only places integrating adults only events. The Telus Spark in Calgary, Alberta, hosts their “Adult Only Night” once a month from 6:00pm-10:00pm. During this night, patrons receive free reign in the galleries, a fully licensed bar, a dance floor, more involved challenges, and innovative collaborators from around the community.

One of the exhibits at the Telus Spark. Source.

Some children’s museums are even partaking in the adults only trend. The Manitoba Children’s Museum, in Winnipeg, Manitoba, has launched a series of events entitled “Seriously Adult.” The event includes opening the museum after hours, providing a fully licensed bar, and special events such as comedy or trivia nights. It also allows the adults to fully interact with the exhibits without the worry of small children underfoot. Proceeds from these events are used to increase museum revenue, as they receive only 14% of their funding from the government. Lisa Dziedic, the museum’s Marketing Director, states that the return on the adults only events has been higher than those from fundraising galas, special event dinners, and golf tournaments (source).

The exhibit area at the Manitoba Children's Museum. Source.

Overall, it seems adults only events are taking the museum by storm! Not only are they providing adults with a chance to explore the museum without children underfoot, they are bringing revenue into the museum by providing this demographic with programming tailored specifically to them.

As an individual who falls within this demographic, I think adults only events are a fantastic way to provide patrons with a new way to experience museums, and I look forward to partaking in some of these events myself!

AFTER THE SECOND MOLOTOV: UNRAVELING STONEWALL'S HERITAGE

Not Your Average Cistory | Amelia Smith

---

“A transgender woman of colour threw the first brick at Stonewall.” This is a phrase that frequently gets used to place trans people within the LGBT. Often, it is referring to Sylvia Rivera, a trans Latinx sex worker. While she was alive, Rivera rejected the claims, instead stating that she threw “the second Molotov.” Nevertheless, the claim she threw the first brick has had a monumental effect on how Stonewall is remembered and beyond.

For those that might not be aware, the Stonewall Inn was a meeting place for the LGBT community in New York during the 1960s. Because of this, it was often the target of police raids. The constant police harassment would culminate in the early hours on June 28, 1969. The patrons of the Stonewall Inn responded violently, kicking off a riot that would go down in history as starting the Gay Liberation Movement and the modern LGBT.

The legendary Stonewall Inn. Source

Soon after the riots on New York’s Christopher Street, gay rights activist groups began sprouting all over the world. Stonewall had been the spark that ignited a revolution, one based in the methods of the preceding Civil Rights Movement. The following years would see significant gains made by gay activists. But, this is where transgender history and gay history deviate.

Sylvia Rivera was in the Gay Liberation Movement from the start, having even been at Stonewall on the first day of the riots. But she would not stay long. The gay communities were changing, and changing in such a way that left very little room for trans people. The gay male culture was becoming hypermasculine, finding itself in gay clubs and through hard drugs. Meanwhile, the lesbian sphere was getting involved with Second Wave Feminism, typified by its exclusion of transgender individuals.

Gay communities were becoming hostile to trans people, and this shows in the 1971 Sexual Orientation Non-Discrimination Act in New York. Through backroom dealings, the language of the act was changed so as to remove all reference to gender expression in an effort to make it more palatable at the expense of trans individuals. This angered many trans activists, including Rivera, as it seemed like they had been betrayed.

Rivera would leave gay activism a couple years later. The rise of trans exclusionary rhetoric reached a peak at the 1973 Christopher Street Liberation Day Rally, when feminists in the crowd described the trans women present as mocking womanhood. In response, Rivera got on stage, amid boos from the crowd, to decry the inactivity of the gay activists. Her role in the movement would soon be forgotten, only to be rediscovered in the 1990s.



So, what does all this mean, then? To understand that, we need to delve into some theory, specifically Benedict Anderson’s Imagined Communities and Tony Bennett on narratives. In his essay “Museums and Progress,” Bennett describes narratives as only existing in retrospect, only having value once we give it value. In this way, narratives are entirely constructed and not inherent. This fits in well with Anderson’s Imagined Communities theory in which large groups that will never meet each other imagine a shared comradery.

These theories reflect how Stonewall is viewed in the LGBT. Much like Anderson’s examples of South East Asian monuments, Stonewall became an image that represented LGBT activism. The LGBT has taken the image of Stonewall and mythologized it. No longer does it just represent a place but a whole group and a mentality that can be seen and felt around the world. With the rediscovered involvement of trans activists like Rivera, the narrative that surrounds Stonewall and the LGBT has slowly shifted. No longer was it the start of just Gay Rights, but a larger LGBT community. It brought about more inclusion for trans individuals.

But this inclusion in the narrative problematizes transgender history. It creates an assumption that, since we were present at the start of the movement, gay and trans histories are one and the same. This results in a further erasure of trans history as it gets subsumed by the much larger and more vocal gay history.

DECOLONIZING THE MUSEUM: ALUMNI CHECK-IN WITH CAROL PODEDWORNY

Alumni Check-In | Elizabeth Cytko

---

Carol Podedworny
Photo courtesy of Nadezhda Lyra

Carol Podedworny is the Director and Chief Curator at McMaster Museum of Art. She graduated from the Museum Studies program in 1984 and got a Master of Arts from York University in 1990. She has worked tirelessly to make space for Indigenous voices within museum institutions and to promote critical scholarship for Indigenous art.

What is your favourite memory from your time in the MMSt program?

I would say the internship, we were given the opportunity to do internships at various cultural institutions in the Summer term. I worked for the McMichael Canadian Collection, the AGO, and the ROM.

Internships were an opportunity to have hands-on practical experience of things that we were learning through lectures in the classroom and to tangibly contribute to the work that was being done in cultural organizations. You also had the opportunity to meet colleagues in the field. So for many reasons, it was a really great experience.

Can you tell me about your path to becoming Director and Chief curator of McMaster?

For the most part, after I finished Museum Studies, I worked as a curator. It wasn't until I went to the University of Waterloo in 2006, that I became a Director, actually Director/Curator. I think that's one of the things about our field that needs attention, there isn't a great deal of succession planning. For the most part, many of us who end up as directors actually started our careers as curators.

What do you think could be done in the field to improve succession planning?

I think there could be mentoring opportunities within institutions and that there could be formal training programs provided elsewhere. I know there's an excellent program for training museum directors in the United States, but we don’t have a similar program here. I've been pretty fortunate at McMaster as it has an incredible continuing education program and developing, leading, and managing people is part of that program. At the museum, I look at the senior curator position as an opportunity to mentor that person towards potentially being the next director.

When you graduated from the program, was it a lot of contract work?

No, but I think that is a condition of the year in which I graduated. The amount of competition within the City of Toronto for any kind of employment was pretty high. So I made the decision that I would look beyond the city to find employment. I was subsequently hired as the curator of the Thunder Bay Art Gallery. That was a pretty significant opportunity for me. At the time, the institution was called the Thunder Bay National Exhibition Center and Center for Indian Art. They had within their permanent collection a long term loan from the Canadian Museum of History (which was then called the Canadian Museum of Civilization (CMC)). I didn't just have the opportunity to work in Thunder Bay and work with the collection, but also with the CMC's collection. Thunder Bay was an important move as it offered opportunities to work at the Thunder Bay Art Gallery, with partner institutions across the country, with contemporary First Nations art, and with funding opportunities in the north which rivaled those in the south. Many doors were opened in taking that position in 1984 that have stayed with me for my entire career.

What are some of the greatest risks you have taken in your career?

I think going to Thunder Bay was a risk. I got there in the fall of 1984. I don't know if you have talked about 1988 and the museum community in Canada in your classes, but 1988 was when the Glenbow Spirit Sings controversy occurred – it resulted in a crisis in museum practice internationally such that our work in the community was changed forever. It was a pretty volatile period, it was an exercise in negotiating and I would say it was risky, for sure. On the other hand all these years later, it's actually the reason why I argued for a position for an Indigenous curator in our museum today. When we hired Rhéanne Chartrand, three years ago, there were only three other permanent Indigenous curators in the country: at the AGO, the NGC, and the McKenzie Art Gallery (an arm of the Saskatchewan First Nations University).

By hiring an Indigenous curator has your institution been able to tackle new issues with a new point of view?

What I have found most interesting is not the collecting of Indigenous art nor the exhibition of Indigenous art, but Rhéanne’s commitment to decolonize the institution through day to day practices within the museum. It's a big issue for her, it’s something she came here saying, ‘I need to think about how I place myself in this colonial institution, and within the broader context of McMaster University – also a colonial institution.’ Our curator has put forward a ten page document with supporting documents, such as from the TRC, etc. That change, I would argue, is what's going to change the institution.

Is there one thing you could point to as a big shift in the museum culture and your institution?

I would say decolonization is our current focus and concern. The fact that there is an Indigenous voice in the museum speaking on behalf of Indigenous peoples is important. For Rhéanne, her approach is always informed by her sense of responsibility to her community. I would say this is something that's evolving, we're transitioning to it. I think that it may take years to achieve.

What is one of your failures that was a great learning experience?

I had written an article that was essentially an excerpt of my M.A. thesis, First Nations Art & the Canadian Mainstream, in a Canadian art magazine. I was then invited as a speaker to the National Gallery of Canada’s Land, Spirit, Power symposium documenting the 1992 Columbus Quin-centenary. When you're at university you're able to really examine a topic. As I was examining an early history of exhibitions of Aboriginal art in Canada, I found ample evidence of the exclusion and ghettoizing of Indigenous art, artists, and artistic practices. In my article I had named individuals who had been working at an earlier time and how their practices had caused issues within the representation of First Nations work in the modern art museum. I was shocked and appalled and looking for a reason beyond flat out racism, to explain why Indigenous work in Canada had been dealt with as it had in museums and art museums. Unfortunately, what I took to be “the facts” meant that I named institutions and exhibitions in my talk at the NGC – of course people took exception! If I had that incident to do over today, I would be much more careful about how I said things. I would say that was a failure, on the other hand, naming and calling out, matters. Today more so than ever before.

You have held many leadership roles, what is your advice for being a great leader?

I think it makes a big difference if you encourage the people who are working with you to be the experts in their area, no micro-managing. Also, allowing people to do well and providing opportunities for professional development matters. You want people to be happy in their work. You want everyone to know and be working towards the same goal. I find here at the museum, that everybody knows what we're working towards, and everybody takes particular pride in what their area contributes to the overall goals of the institution.

What advice would you give to museum professionals entering the sector today?

What I have always said, and firmly believe, is that we are working in a huge country with a very tiny cultural community, relatively speaking. I believe that no matter where you are in your career – in school, just finished, in a first job, doing an internship or volunteer work, wherever you are working, whomever you are working with now – you will absolutely run into them again in your future if you continue to work in the cultural community in this country. Find mentors, find people you respect and enjoy and stay connected! You will come across one another again – for sure!

DANCING THROUGH LIFE: MMSt ALUM JOHN DALRYMPLE ON HIS WORK AT CANADA’S NATIONAL BALLET SCHOOL

(Fun)draising | Samantha Summers

---

In 2006 while serving as the Director of Development at the Textile Museum of Canada, John Dalrymple attended a ballet in New York City that brought him to tears. He was there on behalf of the Textile Museum on a stewardship trip with donors, and having had nothing but yawn-inducing experiences with the opera and the theatre, he had expected it to be the same. He did not expect to be so touched by this art form. Then again, very little of John’s career has been what he expected.

Fresh out of his undergraduate degree, John had anticipated dedicating his life to archaeology. He found several gigs, first in Ontario and then in Central America, where he spent his days Indiana Jones-ing his way through the jungles of Belize. He loved when tour groups stopped by the ancient structures he was working on and he was able to make a meaningful connection between them and the history he was working with. Turning visitors into learners and onlookers into participants was way more interesting to him than dusting off shards of pottery.

Canada's National Ballet School at 400 Jarvis Street, Toronto. Photo courtesy of Canada's National Ballet School.

The trouble with being a nomadic archaeologist-cum-adventurer, however, is the nomadism. John missed his family back in Canada, and they missed him. He packed up and headed home, keen to find a career in developing that personalized meaning-making and knowledge translation he had a taste of with visitors to his digs. His interests brought him to the University of Toronto, where in the Master of Museum Studies program John studied alongside a small and extremely close class of approximately 15 people. Here he learned much what MMSt students at the University of Toronto learn today: principles of curation, conservation theory, and how museums make meanings. What John didn’t seem to be hearing a lot about was how museums keep the lights on. We talk about government grants, donors, and corporate sponsorships, but who are the people behind these titles? How do we convince them to support our visions and our institutions?

This burgeoning interest in development is what brought John into his current career. He has worked at some of Toronto’s top museums: the ROM, the Gardiner Museum and the Textile Museum of Canada. He was working at the Textile Museum of Canada, just finishing up a stint as Acting Executive Director, when Canada’s National Ballet School (NBS) came calling. A half decade after that ballet had brought John to tears, it had come back into his life to stay.

John Dalrymple dancing during an NBS Sharing Dance community workshop in Calgary. Photo courtesy of Canada's National Ballet School.

“Do you have a history of dance yourself?” I ask as John leads me through the warren-like basement of the Betty Oliphant Theatre on Jarvis Street, which is owned by Canada’s National Ballet School. He laughs, “Only at weddings and bars.” A quick walk and an elevator ride later and we’re in the sparkling upper floors of Canada’s National Ballet School, and John is explaining that his staff group—all 29 of them—get together over their lunches to learn the choreography for Sharing Dance, one of NBS’ many community programs. “I dance a lot now,” he adds.

Everyone here dances a lot. At every stop on the tour of this gorgeous facility dancers are training around me, pushing themselves to Olympian limits. Even the majority of the staff have a history of dance, and many of John’s staff studied dance themselves in their youth. It’s a testament to how passionate people are about this school and its mission to share the power of dance. The problem until recently, however, has been converting the unbelievers.

When John first arrived at Canada’s National Ballet School approximately 90% of their privately donated funds came from what he estimates to be twenty donors. This was a passionate core support group, but having that much support from so few people is ultimately an unstable funding model. John’s job over the past few years has been to increase philanthropic interest in the school from a more diverse donor pool. “You say ‘elite training and performance,’ and people hear ‘elitist,’” John tells me.

Breaking through the barrier posed by that image has involved producing lots of publicly accessible content, dance training, and outreach, and demonstrating that just because ballet is an old dance form it doesn’t have to come with old-fashioned attitudes. Artistic Director and CEO Mavis Staines has been leading the global charge to make ballet more body-positive and health-focused, and her commitment to this goal can be felt in the training programs implemented here at Canada’s National Ballet School. The Pathway Project aims to help young and talented dancers who might have less access to ballet make their way to the school to train. NBS’ REACH provides open-access materials to help public school teachers and community programmers across the country learn how to bring relevant, inclusive dance programming into their spaces from the world-class instructors who teach at Canada’s National Ballet School.

Behind all of these incredible initiatives are dedicated and passionate colleagues that John feels privileged to work with. Laying the foundation for this programming requires them to approach donors and sponsors and explain how Canada’s National Ballet School enriches the fabric of Canada and impacts dance across the globe. Rooted in his love of knowledge translation, first discovered in Belize and then enhanced in the MMSt program, John works to makes ballet and dance meaningful to those who otherwise may have misunderstood its importance.

This is where John Dalrymple’s MMSt has taken him.

Where will yours take you?

MUSEUMS OR NOT? PART 3: SUBWAY SERIES STOCKHOLM

Beyond Tradition | Joanna Wreakes

---

This February I had the pleasure of visiting my sister who’s working in Stockholm for the year. In planning all the things we would do during the week, Instagram was a major tool. One Stockholm attraction kept popping up - the brightly coloured subway stations all throughout the city.

Stadion Station. Photo courtesy of Joanna Wreakes.

On top of regular commuting from my sister’s apartment into the city center, I planned to visit some  stations that my travels wouldn’t have taken me. During my subway-hopping tour there was such an interesting mix of people to be seen. There were plenty of other tourists, all on our own little self-guided tours, hopping off trains to wander the brightly painted cavernous stations, taking pictures for social media to prove that we were there. However, most of the people I saw were simply Stockholmers going about their daily business, seemingly unaffected that they were passing through “the world's longest art exhibit.”

Mörby Centrum Station. Photo courtesy of Joanna Wreakes.

The Art in the Subway project in Stockholm is not the only initiative that brings art installations into typically dreary subway stations, but it is arguably one of the widest-spread. Installations are found in over 90% of the subway stations, featuring works created starting in the 1950s by over 150 different artists.

Countless numbers of eager Instagrammers flock to the stations each day to get their snaps. The art in the subway is so popular that it’s even spurred its own hashtag - #subwayseries_sthlm (I would know, as I definitely used this hashtag on my own Instagram post of some of the stations I visited). “Subwaygrammers,” as they’re referred too, are made up of Stockholmers and tourists alike - and the photos seen are taken both in special visits and during daily commutes.

Despite the social media impact of Art in the Subway, it’s intriguing to think about the history. This project began in the 1950s, long before the advent of social media & “subwaygrammers”. While the brightly coloured installations make a great photo, I think they may serve another purpose: lightening up the winter blues. Notoriously dark and grey in the winter, in January Stockholm only gets around 6 hours of light each day, making these colourful subway stations more than just a great photo-op.

The author pictured in T-Centralen Station. Photo courtesy of Molly Wreakes.

"Tilted Arc" aka public art gone wrong (source).

While the discussion around public art is so often negative with complaints about wasted tax money or an inconveniencing of space (see: Richard Serra’s tilted arc), art in the subway is a refreshing site. Allowing commuters whimsical views during their travels, while generally being unobtrusive (save for tourists with selfie-sticks), the project allows all people a small glimpse into “the world's longest art exhibit” without even having to step foot into a traditional museum building.

FINDING FOODWAYS, PART III.

Research Column | Casarina Hocevar

---

For the last installation of this research column, I would like to touch upon some of the challenges of historical research. The challenges of researching can be both frustrating and thrilling. For example, the availability of information may have us swinging between an overabundance of materials to absolute dead ends, leaving the research process inconsistent and difficult. This urges us, as researchers, to be careful notetakers, well organized and creative in how we go about our next avenue of inquiry. But as research comes together like pieces in a puzzle, it can lead to satisfying and exciting results, assuring us that the effort was worth it all along. The following will illustrate an example of this process from my research for Storefront Stories.

Missing Percy’s

As part of Storefront Stories, we have 9 participating businesses in Kensington Market that will feature a poster with information of a historical Jewish-owned storefront once located at their same address, with an additional 11 businesses featured online. Dividing the 20 businesses between myself and my teammates, we each wrote the narratives to a selection of storefronts. Some storefronts focus on stories of immigration, others on the success of the business, and others on more intimate family details. Our narratives have largely been informed by materials available at the Ontario Jewish Archives (OJA), but have also been supplemented by additional research from the field of Jewish Studies, history and through resources available at the City of Toronto Archives and various media outlets. Our goal is to illuminate a concise and engaging history of these storefronts to the best our ability, while respecting the limitations of available materials. 

One of the storefronts I was paired with is located at 234 Augusta Ave., where today Dolce Gelato stands. Initially, the photograph I was working with was an image of “Percy’s Fruit” - a Jewish grocery shop from mid-century Kensington Market. In the archive, the image was dated from 1959. As I began researching its history, I only found dead ends - there never seemed to be any trace of a Percy’s Fruit at 234 Augusta Ave in 1959. Shifting strategies, I searched through city directories to see if the image was perhaps incorrectly dated.

Image used with permission from the Ontario Jewish Archives: Percy's Fruit Market, Augusta Avenue and Nassau Street, 16 May 1959. Ontario Jewish Archives, Blankenstein Family Heritage Centre, fonds 18, series 2, item 2.

What I found throughout the directories were listings for different shops at 234 Augusta Ave, not Percy's Fruit. From the earliest entry in the directory until the early 1930s, there were butcher shops at 234 Augusta Ave. Then in the late 30s, Joe’s Fruit Market appears in that exact location, and remains listed for several decades. According to the city directory records, which are available through the Toronto Public Library, the information accompanying the archival image of Percy’s Fruit (e.g. date/location) did not match with the information in the directories, prompting me to reconsider whether the information I had for Percy's was even correct.

Comparing Images

Returning to the image of Percy’s Fruit, I enlarged the image and began noting the structure of the building: the roof’s slant, the location of the windows, any trimmings, etc. Then I googled 234 Augusta Ave., opened up Google Street View and compared the contemporary building to that of Percy’s. They were not the same building. Is it possible that in the 60 years that passed between this photograph of Percy’s Fruit and Dolce Gelato, the building may have changed? -Sure! However, considering there was no mention of Percy's Fruit at 234 Augusta Ave. in the city directories, I was doubtful this image belonged.

Curious, I searched for images of Joe’s Fruit Market. I was able to locate a couple within the City of Toronto Archives, whose building looked very similar to that of today’s Dolce Gelato. Noting that, I returned to the 1959 City Directory to see if a Percy’s Fruit was located elsewhere in Kensington Market. I was able to find a Percy’s Fruit listed nearby 234 Augusta Ave., with Joe’s Fruit Market at 234. Following that, I returned to the map of Kensington and began comparing the building that is listed in the 1959 directory for Percy’s to the image I had of the grocery shop. Save for a few modern updates, the two buildings - that featured on Google Maps and that of the archival image - were the same.

Conclusions

In short, after several winding research paths, I assumed the following:

• - 234 Augusta Ave. had previously been home to multiple Jewish butcher shops in its earliest days
• - In the late 1930s, Joe’s Fruit Market moved into 234 Augusta, where it remained until the 1970s
• - Percy’s Fruit Market was located nearby 234 Augusta

After some consultation with my teammates and with OJA, we concluded that my research was likely correct, and unfortunately, Percy’s Fruit had been incorrectly labelled. For the purposes of our exhibition, we decided to discard the image of Percy’s for the poster, but inquired further into the story of Joe’s Fruit Market. Thankfully - and still with a couple more archival hiccups - we were able to provide a narrative of Joe’s Fruit Market, that will be featured on the exhibition poster at 234 Augusta Ave. this May.

This nugget of research has a bittersweet end. In many ways, it was satisfying as it still led me to a story I can share through the exhibition. However, I am disappointed I was never able to locate more information about Percy’s Fruit. While I found the correct address and its approximate dates of operation, the story behind the grocery shop remains largely a mystery. As researchers and museum practitioners, there are moments we need to recognize when to close one door, so we can open another: in this case, the door to Percy’s Fruit closed, while another to Joe’s Fruit Market was opened.

HOW FAR IS TOO FAR?

Conservation Tips & Tricks | Selin Kahramanoglu

---

Let's talk about ethics.

Picture this: You're a conservator in a prestigious museum (congrats!), and you are tasked with restoring the painting, Woman with a Parasol, by Claude Monet. In this scenario, the painting has been cut along the top of the canvas during its transportation to the museum's collection storage.

It's only ripped. No big deal. Just patch it up, right?

Yes, the tear is near the frame, but in this imaginary scenario the tear also thinly runs down the canvas, and clearly strikes through the image of the young woman in the painting. There's no way to hide the damage. Suddenly, the slashed painting is more problematic than we initially thought. You sure that you want to keep going?

Woman with a Parasol, painted by Claude Monet. Source.

Door Number One: If you choose not to restore the painting, the rip would likely get bigger over time, and it could never be displayed in such a state. Shame would cast a shadow over your institution (sorry, I'm excited for Game of Thrones), because the Monet painting was damaged while in your care. Too bad. There goes your reputation. 

Door Number Two: If you choose to restore the painting, you will need to repair the canvas in the back, but also paint over the front image to cover the ripped edges. The question is, are you willing to paint over an original Monet? If the answer is yes, then welcome to the dark side of conservation practices.

Source.

The restoration of art is a task frequently given to conservators. Sometimes objects get accidentally damaged when moving between spaces, and other times it is an action that was purposefully done. Still, how much work can reasonably be done to repair a work of art, or an artifact, before the restoration impedes the integrity of the original work? At what point would a conservator become a contributing artist?

Now, I know these ethical decisions are hard to make, but don't worry. Remember our golden rule: The point of conservation is to protect the current state of the object, using techniques that are reversible in the future.

Source.

Ethically, conservators are restricted to doing only what is necessary to conserve the object. That's why we would have to repair the painting's canvas. However, adding more paint to the artwork, on top of Monet's existing work, is another moral dilemma.

Here's the good news: Paint can be removed. Impressionism art has layers upon layers of paint, which can be taken off, even if the paint has been dry for decades. If a conservator chooses to paint on top of Monet's work in order to cover the rip, then yes, the conservator's paint job is reversible. So far, so good.

Sorry, there's bad news: The extent of conservation on an object is subjective. Unfortunately, each conservator is not watched by a jury of experts in the lab, telling them when they've overdone it. How can we trust that a conservator knows when to stop tinkering, repairing, altering?

Source.

Don't forget, you are the conservator in this scenario. No one else. The decision is yours to make. The mistakes are also yours to make. Here are four important tips to following best practices when it comes to ethical dilemmas in conservation:

1. Consult another conservator or specialized expert. Try to not to pick a friend, or a colleague in the same institution, when consulting for a second opinion. You wouldn't want any biased remarks in this case. You need brutal truths on how to proceed with the job.
2. Research previously completed conservation treatments. There are many examples of a job gone wrong, and it is equally helpful to see what decisions you shouldn't be making. At the same time, a similar situation would show you the processes that someone else has already tested out before you.
3. Trust your instincts. If you think that you're in danger of going too far, then the answer is probably yes. Do you think your hand is too shaky to patch up the painting today? Then, take a break. Are you unsure as to which solvent test to do? Ask someone. Don't guess, and don't push yourself to do the job.
4. Take some risks. I know ethical dilemmas are scary, especially if you're the one in charge. Still, we should be trying to push the boundaries of our professions. Demand an answer to tough questions. If you have a strong rationale behind your decision, then do it!

Source.

Like most ethical issues, this topic can be debated, and I won't pretend to have a definite solution. However, I encourage you to think about these problems when you go on a museum visit, or tour a historical site this summer. Take a walk through the unknown and dangerous side of conservation!

MAKING MUSINGS PART 4: WORTH THE RISK

Letter from the Editor | Serena Ypelaar

---

This is the fourth post of a five part series in celebration of the Master of Museum Studies program at the University of Toronto's 50th anniversary (MMSt50). To reflect on Musings' past, present, and future, we invited all previous Editors-in-Chief to return to Musings to write special Letter from the Editor posts. These articles will highlight the significance of Musings both within the MMSt program, and for writers' professional careers. Serena Ypelaar was the fourth Editor-in-Chief of Musings from 2017-2018. 

When I first considered running for Musings Editor-in-Chief, you could say I was wary of risk. For one thing, I had never spearheaded a major publication, let alone one representing a graduate program at the University of Toronto. I’d been on the editorial team for CLIO, uOttawa’s undergraduate history journal, but nothing matched the scale of the journey on which I was about to embark.

Was I nervous to put myself out there in a leadership role? You bet. Did I do it anyway? Yes, and I sure am glad I did.

Why had I considered the Editor-in-Chief role a risk? Namely because it involved leaving my comfort zone in a big way. It was a huge responsibility but also the most beautiful challenge. Stepping outside the comfortable and trying to take Musings new places – this was how I spent much of my second year (2017/2018) in the MMSt program, resulting in irreplaceable experiences, friendships, and memories.

Contributing Editor Julia Zungri [Left] and 2017/2018 Editor-in-Chief Serena Ypelaar [Right]. Photo courtesy of Serena Ypelaar/Musings.

I felt drawn to the role thanks to my deep love of writing and a strong sense of excitement. Some of my priorities as Editor-in-Chief were to broaden Musings’ community presence and connect more with audiences; increase inclusivity and further question the “status quo” of museums; and create a unified editorial structure that allowed for multiple rounds of edits and collaboration between team members. I was blessed with a talented and wonderful colleague in the role of Musings Administrator, Amy Intrator (one of Musings’ current Editors-in-Chief alongside She’s My Muse superstar Kathleen Lew), and we got a lot done!

Armed with a new social media strategy and revamped Instagram presence, we were able to connect with more institutions across digital networks. One of the most enjoyable promotional campaigns I ran involved sending personalized messages to museums across Canada to introduce their staff to Musings, encourage them to read and engage with our content, and propose possible collaborations. The goal was to expand our network; we received encouraging responses from professionals who were interested, as well as MMSt alumni who were happy for the chance to reconnect. This outreach project was experimental at best, but putting myself and the blog out there was beyond rewarding when I realized how many relationships we could create and nurture.

Risk reared its head yet again in February 2018, when I moderated MUSSA’s first major panel at the iSchool, Women in Leadership: Challenges, Successes, and the Future. It was terrifying, and I was extremely nervous to host a discussion with four accomplished museum leaders in front of a crowd, but I’m so happy I put my trepidation aside. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have had the valuable opportunity to learn from inspiring women leading museums and expand Musings’ visibility further beyond the walls of the Bissell Building.

View this post on Instagram

Musings is happy to provide coverage for the @mussa.ischool Women in Leadership Panel, which took place yesterday! Check out our #WeekendEdition recap of the event! (Link in bio) 👭 (photo: Charlotte Gagnier)

A post shared by Musings - MMSt Student Blog (@musingsmmst) on Feb 10, 2018 at 6:01pm PST

Musings returned to the iSchool Conference in March, this time to discuss digital relevance. In a panel comprising Contributing Editors Emily Welsh, Sadie MacDonald, Kathleen Lew, Amy Intrator, and myself, we spoke about current events, commemoration, social media presence, and difficult legacies. We wanted to face up to some of the toughest topics to anchor Musings in timely and necessary museological dialogues, and we published a paper in the iJournal to that end.

Our panel at the iSchool Conference! Photo courtesy of Nicholas Ypelaar.

Blogging was second nature by the time my term ended, so I decided to ride the wave and start a new blog of my own, The Mindful Rambler. The team and I (including MMSt/Musings alumni) discuss interpretation/storytelling with a focus on history, literature, art, and biography. My time at Musings is the reason the blog exists at all; I still love writing articles that (hopefully) provoke thought, and I’m always trying to learn new things.

Musings has given me so much insight into cultural institutions, writing, and partnerships. Working at the Inuit Art Foundation, I’ve used that knowledge to collaborate with galleries and host Edit-a-Thons for the Inuit Art Quarterly Profiles, an online resource featuring Inuit artists from across Canada. Focusing on community events and digital education, I’m often reminded that collaboration is integral to success: Musings itself is built on collaboration. If you’ve been involved in any way, thank you.

Part of the Musings 2017/2018 team. Back [from left]: Emily Welsh, Julia Zungri, Kristen McLaughlin, Katlyn Wooder, Kathleen Lew, Amy Intrator. Front [from left]: Jennifer Lee, Leore Zecharia, Sadie MacDonald, Serena Ypelaar.
Photo courtesy of Serena Ypelaar/Musings.

Leading Musings was unlike anything I’ve ever done. It was also a fulfilling creative opportunity. Change is scary. Risk is scary. But only by taking calculated risks can we reap the rewards, a lesson I plan to take with me throughout my career.

As a team effort, Musings is a testament to collaboration in the Master of Museum Studies program, now 50 years old. I absolutely loved working with my colleagues, the Contributing Editors who make Musings great. Congratulations Jaime, Madeline, Natania, Kathleen, and Amy! The Editor-in-Chief legacy is truly unique, and I feel incredibly honoured to be counted among the ranks with you all.

Happy 5th birthday, Musings! Here’s to many more.

TRADITIONS GOING AWAY

Sew What | Rachel Dice

---

The wedding dress has been considered the quintessential part of every bride’s big day since the

Victorian Era.  

Custom bridal gowns by Evellyon Atelier. These elaborate, runway-ready gowns are the pinnacle of many brides' dreams
for their big day. Photo courtesy of Nicole Dice of Evellyon Atelier.

The tradition of big dresses and even bigger ceremonies is a relatively modern development and has become a large part of pop culture. Shows like Say Yes to the Dress and movies like My Big Fat Greek Wedding capitalize on the cultural importance of that oh-so-important day. What’s truly interesting, on the other hand, isn’t the tradition we all expect and follow. It’s the one that we’ve seemingly forgotten about: the going away outfit.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the practice, the going away outfit is the clothes the bride changes into just before she and her groom rush out and away to their romantic honeymoon. This outfit would be bridal in feel, but more comfortable and easier to move around in. The idea of it was to keep up the feeling of ceremony while also providing the bride with a new outfit to greet her new life in.

The traditions of the going away outfit closely follow existing wedding traditions from different cultures and time periods.

A fashion plate from 1820 detailing different wedding dresses, styles, and colours. Source.

Back before the Victorian era, brides would simply wear their best clothing on their wedding day and would get married in any colour that dress happened to be. If they commissioned custom wedding clothes, the idea was that they would continue to wear that dress until it fell out of fashion or until it fell apart. Sometimes dresses were more elaborate on the big day but were then adjusted so they were more suitable for every-day wear. These Georgian era brides still had ceremonies as elaborate as they could afford, it was their wedding day, after all, and a time to show off.

 19th Century wedding veil from the collections of the
Aurora Museum & Archives. The veil has a crown of wax orange
blossoms. Photo courtesy of Rong Zhou.

Wearing white wasn't really a style until the marriage of Queen Victoria to Prince Albert. Along with white puffy dresses came the style of orange blossoms as the wedding flower of choice.

Many eastern wedding traditions involve changing outfits throughout the ceremony or for an after-party. Some, such as Chinese or Hindu weddings, involve wearing a bright red dress for luck and good fortune in the bride’s upcoming life. It has now become popular for Chinese brides to include a photo-shoot in a western-style white dress before changing back into traditional red.

While these traditions may hint at why going away outfits came into style, nothing actually mentions when the tradition started. Several contemporary wedding blogs and websites mention bringing the tradition back, and while one blog provides a picture of a couple in their going away clothes from 1940, there isn’t any other information. My mother fondly remembers her going away outfit from her first wedding. She made herself a cream pantsuit with a cinched waist and padded shoulders, quite a daring look for the late 80s. My grandmother always smiles when she looks

Ines Petrella and George Borg. Ines, my grandmother, wears
her going away outfit as they wave goodbye like movie stars
to their wedding guests. Photo courtesy of Rachel Dice.

at the photos of her going away outfit, and if you ask just right, she’ll take out the old Eaton’s box that holds the matching hat and purse —they were patent alligator leather, which was something she says only movie stars wore. Sometimes the going away outfit had even better memories associated with it than the wedding dress! 

Traditions like this are truly reflective of the intricacies of contemporary culture. They fade out of common use within a generation, yet no one can remember when they started or why. This is a challenge to all museums that collect textiles and local memory. Why do we only keep wedding dresses, but no going away outfits, or even bridesmaid clothes? With no rhyme or reason to most contemporary traditions, you never know what will appear or disappear next.

If I ever get married, you can bet that my going away outfit will be just as spectacular as the dress I first show up in!

---

While digital going away outfits aren't a thing, I'd like to say that my U of T sweatpants and my fuzzy sweater are the pinnacle of fashion for these types of events. It has been a pleasure and a privilege writing for the Sew What column of Musings! Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read my posts thus far! May our next writer continue to enjoy your readership.