WHAT WE NEED IS A STORY: RE-FRAMING INTERPRETATION IN ART GALLERIES

GLAM Guide | Madison Carmichael

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Just before the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art’s grand re-opening in 2017, Chief Content Officer Chad Coerver posited that the wall label wasn’t enough for the average visitor. Instead, he argued: 

“...what visitors really need is a story – a memorable way to connect with a fundamentally foreign object.”

In advocating for more appealing and accessible art stories in the SFMOMA, Coerver echoed almost a decade of transformation in art interpretation, wherein museum staff across departments worked to shift the visitor’s conceptualization of art as well as their experience of it. 

From 2002 to 2010, three art galleries in particular in North America engaged in interpretive transformations: the Detroit Institute of Art (DIA), the Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO), and the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (MFA). These three art institutions also share similar mission statements that can be boiled down to: engage people with art and help them to make meaning from it. 

The Detroit Institute of Art did indeed pilot a new model of interpretation in the early 2000s. (Source)

The DIA undertook a major re-installation project from 2002 to 2007. This endeavor was guided by an interpretive approach that emphasized experiences with art rather than lessons in art history, and the objective was to support visitors’ efforts to engage with art by telling stories and making connections with universal human concerns. In a study conducted at the DIA to evaluate the efficacy of this new interpretive strategy, evaluators found three main ways for visitors to find meaning: discovering something familiar or something to which they could make a personal connection, learning or discovering something new, or (less frequently) expressing a preference for the subject or medium of the artwork. 

On the whole, the evaluators discovered that the most common way visitors found personal meaning in the galleries was to relate first to the visual aspects of the art through their own experience and then to utilize the museum’s provided interpretation to go further with their understanding. As such, it was important for the interpretation to provide relevant, meaningful information about the artworks that would support personal meaning.

The AGO re-displayed the majority of its collections in an effort to position art as political, using them to discuss issues and ideas facing visitors currently. (Source)

The AGO also launched a redevelopment project in 2002, which culminated in their reopening with a newly extended building and fully re-displayed collections in 2008. The transformation at the AGO was oriented around questions posed by Judy Koke, Deputy Director of Education and Public Programming: why is the visitor here, and what do they need out of their visit? 

Interpretation at the AGO located the answer to those questions in personal meaning and connection. At the time, the AGO abandoned the practice of displaying art by historical chronology and instead displayed their collections through issues and ideas. This was a fascinating departure from conventional practice, as it necessitated that the artworks on display needn’t be the most prestigious or most famous but rather those that best illustrated the ideas and issues posed in that particular space. 

This approach served the AGO’s purposes quite neatly, for – much like the DIA – they hoped not only to develop an understanding of art historical chronologies but to inspire personal connections with art. Artworks were designed to function as departure points for exploring the broader story within a gallery space. 

The MFA situated art as socio-objective. As such, they explore how any given artwork functioned or else represents a facet of society or social practices. (Source)

Most recently, the MFA opened the Art of the Americas wing of their institution in 2010. The wing itself was imposing: it comprised of four floors and forty-eight galleries, as well as four “Behind the Scenes” galleries. The brochure detailing this portion of the museum implored visitors to design their own path according to their own interests and needs. Furthermore, visitors were encouraged to make use of the central gallery on each floor, which were designed to provide a broad brushstroke of the level’s theme and contents. 

Barbara T. Martin, Alfond Curator of Education at the MFA, noted that museum staff had begun to realize that the visitor needed a way in. To the notion that objects speak for themselves, unfortunately prevalent in museums, she said: “when you say that the object speaks for itself, usually you’re someone with a PhD who has read a lot of words to get to the point where the object can talk to you.” This is not, as you might imagine, a very easy point to get to, nor a very accessible one! As such, the MFA rather appropriately took a more informal and conversational tone with their interpretation. 

The goal, according to Benjamin Weiss, Head of Interpretation, was not for visitors to read the walls, but for the walls to speak to visitors. The MFA didn't aim to change what they said: it was to re-frame the questions – changing “what is this thing? to “why am I looking at this thing?” It was to ask – and to answer – why we should care. 

The point, Martin stated, was for visitors to feel empowered to engage with the artworks on display by giving them the tools to do so. But more crucially, it was important that visitors know that “there isn’t some mysterious practice that you’re supposed to know if you’re in this kind of place.” 

The SFMOMA similarly re-evaluated the interpretation of their collections between 2013-2017, when they underwent massive physical and programmatic transformations. They too found a need for personal connection in their galleries. (Source)

Much like Coerver, these institutions found a need for stories: stories written and told by the institution but also those brought into the gallery space by visitors. The DIA, the AGO, and the MFA embraced the necessity of re-framing how visitors experienced art, and they did so through museum interpretation that emphasized the relevance of art and the personal connections that visitors can make to any number of artworks. So, the question is: in re-interpreting, re-displaying, and re-framing art, do we make art galleries more appealing and accessible spaces for those of us who may find art to be fundamentally foreign? Maybe, maybe not. But it certainly offers visitors a new way to engage with art on display, and that is not an insignificant thing. 

YOU MUST BE THIS OLD TO VISIT: CHILDREN IN GALLERIES & MUSEUMS

GLAM Guide | Madison Carmichael

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Every once in a while, I’m struck by how I behave in museums. I walk silently, with my arms tucked tight behind my back – as though if I don’t contain myself, a rogue arm might lash out and damage something precious and priceless. I visit museums and galleries with my colleagues here at the faculty, and I notice them doing it too: ghosting through galleries without a sound, hands trapped against their sides, arms firmly crossed. 

I don’t remember how, or when, or where I was taught that this is how one comports oneself in a museum. In all likelihood it was at some point in my late childhood. And so I wonder if this is the threshold for adulthood in the museum world: adults know the rules and rigidly adhere to them, whereas children do not.

The Tate Modern. (Source)

Does this then mean that children shouldn’t visit museums and galleries? Folks in the GLAM sector have been tossing this question around since 2014, when two children climbed up onto a Donald Judd sculpture at the Tate Modern.  In the press, this event has been listed alongside incidents at museums that resulted in toppled statues, defeathered animal specimens, and ripped paintings, illuminating the potential dangers posed to collections on display. But more significantly, the incident at the Tate Modern – tweeted out to the world by the outraged New York gallery owner who witnessed it – instigated a heated debate that demanded, with unforgiving language, whether children should be banned from museums.

Holy crap. Horrible kids, horrible parents. @tate pic.twitter.com/6h1nuY6CfQ

— THEODORE (@TheodoreArt) January 26, 2014

Donald Judd's "Untitled," 1980: the sculpture in question. (Source)

The very notion seems antithetical to ongoing efforts to open up the GLAM sector to wider audiences, and it operates in direct opposition to what researchers have been advocating for the past few decades: that museums ought to increase the attention paid to our younger audiences. In an article for the BBC, Michelle Warwicker rather critically stated that “art galleries are no longer places of reverent observation and hushed whispers.” The Metropolitan Museum of Art and (interestingly) the Tate Modern offer child-friendly exhibits and activities. Leigh-Anne Stradeski, Chief Executive at Eureka! The National Children’s Museum, concurs. She argues that the increase in child and family-friendly content is driven by changing public expectations regarding the role of museums in our lives as well as the more practical concern of attracting new audiences in the face of funding issues. In her opinion, “it can only be a good thing that museums have become more accessible to children, families, and other diverse audiences.” 

Not everyone agrees.

The first children's museum was opened in 1899, in Brookyn. Children's museums have flourished since as an alternative for parents and kids. Eureka! opened in the UK, in 1985, and it was modeled off its American counterparts. (Source)

There is a loud, oft-repeated assertion that children don’t “get” art. British artist Jake Chapman went one step further and declared that assuming that a child could understand complex works was both “arrogance” and “insult.” In his view, to insinuate that a child could understand art was to imply that “it’s as moronic as a child.” 

As I said, there seems to be a threshold for adulthood in the museum. Behaviour certainly informs that particular convention, but so too does how we interact with art. But unlike many of us grown-ups, children possess no uneasy need to “get” art. Where we are uncertain, they are open-minded and spontaneous in how they respond to and interpret works. They simply need a little more support to do so. Katrina Weier explains that children as ably pick favourites among artworks and relate them to their own experiences as any adult would. In 2004 – a decade before the incident at the Tate Modern and Chapman’s remarks – the Ipswich Art Gallery (formerly the Global Arts Link) led a program wherein children led a tour for a familiar adult. They discussed their favourite objects with varying degrees of detail, gave descriptions, and explained why they liked the objects.

What Weier’s study reveals is that children possess a capacity to talk about art. They become engaged interpreters when they feel that they can access the art in their own way and in their own words. And isn’t that how adults too are encouraged to “get” art?

We’re often told that art galleries in particular are places for looking, for doing so quietly. Children in the museum loudly disrupt the ritual of museum-going to which we are accustomed, and I think that this may be what we intimidated and unsure adults need. Warwicker notes that adults “may just have to learn to share exhibition space with these unpredictable little visitors” with some resignation, but even she admits that their natural curiosity can be infectious. And when we witness how willing they are to engage without fear of being wrong, they give us permission to do the same.

Museums of art tend to intimidate adult visitors. What if we embraced the unrestrained curiosity of children? (Source) 

As for the risks of children running in museums and galleries, it’s worth noting that most accidental damage to collections is caused by adults, not children. In the case of the Judd sculpture at the Tate Modern, however, I think Stradeski says it best: 

“If a child sees a climbing frame where an adult sees a priceless piece of art it's a matter of perspective - and if that poses a problem, the onus is on the professionals to facilitate the child's interpretation and experience of the sculpture." (Stradeski) 

Kids are kids. They aren’t little adults, so we shouldn’t expect them to be. But in our capacity as museum staff, educators, parents, etcetera, it’s up to us to facilitate how a child engages in the museum space. The answer to the challenge of children cannot be to close our doors on them. If we work to understand and support children’s visits, engaging the adults who accompany them, we not only provide them with a shared, meaningful experience; in a way, we ensure the future of the GLAM sector writ large. 

RECOGNIZING OURSELVES: PLACE & RELEVANCE AT THE TOM THOMSON ART GALLERY

GLAM Guide | Madison Carmichael

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In a delightfully titled article about the Owen Sound and North Grey Union Public Library (“Having fun isn’t hard when you have a library card,” if you’re curious), Andy Elliott urges his reader to not only come and enjoy the library, but to also visit the adjoining Tom Thomson Art Gallery (TOM). He urges the reader: “you can see some of the best art Canada has ever produced, and it’s all right here in our little community.” Needless to say, I was intrigued.

The Owen Sound Public Library. Photo courtesy of Madison Carmichael.

The Tom Thomson Art Gallery. The piece atop the building reads: "I feel the thing is of too great an importance to miss." Photo courtesy of Madison Carmichael. 

The TOM was established to memorialize Canadian artist Tom Thomson – a significant inspiration for the Group of Seven – who grew up in Leith, a town situated on the shores of Georgian Bay just north of Owen Sound. The TOM features numerous works by not only Tom Thomson, but also several members of the Group of Seven. Currently, they keep works by Tom Thomson, as well as his oil sketches and other archival materials, on permanent display, but they also host several temporary exhibitions, one of which really resonated with me during my visit – Footprints in Time: Painting around Georgian Bay. 

Mr. Thomson himself. Photo courtesy of Madison Carmichael. 

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Happy Thanksgiving from all of us at TOM! This George Thomson work featured in our Footprints in Time Exhibition, reminds us of the perfect Thanksgiving weekend weather. Image Credit: George Thomson, Harvest Time on the Annan Road, Date Unknown. Oil on canvas on masonite. Gift of Mrs. Morrison Seller, 1984. Collection of the Tom Thomson Art Gallery.

A post shared by Tom Thomson Art Gallery (@tomthomsonartgallery) on Oct 13, 2019

I should first confess that I’m not from Owen Sound, but over the past few years, I’ve spent more and more time in Bruce and Grey Counties, neighbouring regions sandwiched between Lake Huron and Georgian Bay. So, when I went to see Footprints in Time just after the new year, I was completely unaware of the rich backstory of this exhibition. Unbeknownst to me, this exhibition was the result of a moment of crisis for the TOM.

In 2017, the TOM experienced a significant financial deficit. According to city officials, the gallery had a large budgetary shortfall. Costs were cut, staff levels were reduced, and the chief object of leadership moving forward to devise less expensive ways to put on exhibitions.

The gallery catalogue for the exhibition, which contains essays from Katharine Lochnan and Louise Moore. Photo courtesy of Madison Carmichael 

As a result, Footprints in Time was the work of volunteer-based curatorship. Community curators were invited to create shows for the TOM from the gallery’s expansive permanent collection, which contained many pieces that had never been shown due to limitations in both space and funding. Among them were Katharine Lochnan – senior curator emeritus for the AGO and long-time resident of the region – Louise Moore and local art historian Judith Thomson. It was the latter who, with a deep familiarity with the collection, suggested that they create an imaginary tour around Georgian Bay through the curation of site-specific works or those they knew would represent the area. 

Footprints in Time, therefore, draws inspiration and meaning from place. The art on display is inextricably tied to the Georgian Bay region, as are the artists as well, for most all of the artists featured in the exhibition called this region home at some point in their lives.

Sydenham River, Owen Sound (date unknown), by George Thomson. Elder brother of Tom Thomson, George painted several scenes from the region over the course of his career. Photo courtesy of Madison Carmichael. 

Water Spirits (1975), by Daphne Odjig. Odjig was born on Manitoulin Island in 1919 and is one of several Indigenous artists shown in this exhibition, including Blake Debassige, Joshim Kakegamic, and Norval Morrisseau. Photo courtesy of Madison Carmichael.

More than that, the exhibition is grounded in the gallery itself. The exhibition contains 45 works from the gallery’s permanent collection, and the permanent collection alone, many of which they have never exhibited before. Footprints in Time is, then, not only an imaginary tour of Georgian Bay; it is a very real tour of the gallery’s expansive collection and of the rich artistic tradition in the region.

All of this is to say that this exhibition was incredibly relevant to its context. When we discuss interpretation and meaning-making in the GLAM sector, it is underlined by the belief that it is easier for us to make meaningful connections to something we can relate to. Relevant museums are therefore meaningful museums. Lon Dubinsky states that social relevance is tied to how the museum functions as a place. It has much to do with the proximity of museums to individuals – both physically and psychologically. Jane K. Nielson takes a similar tact by defining relevance in museological practices. She argues that relevance is centered on what is directly connected to practical aspects of a subject; crucially, she states that it can also be very individual. What is relevant to me might not be relevant to you. 

A collection of paintings from the exhibition. Among them: George Thomson, Charles Finley, Tom Thomson, and Florence Campbell. Photograph courtesy of Madison Carmichael.

In her essay in the gallery catalogue, Louise Moore tells us that landscapes of places known provide comfort to their viewer, as well as sense of stability in their environment. Most critical to my reflection here – and to the title of this article – she remarks that “we recognize the landscape and we recognize ourselves.” The landscapes on display offer something familiar, and in doing so, they work to affirm a sense of home and of place for those who are versed in the imagery shown. For whom it is relevant. 

At its core, Footprints in Time isn’t just about the place on display; it’s about how this place operates as a home for those who live within it. This may not be a ground-breaking theme, but I would argue that while it doesn’t break ground, per se, it certainly grounds you. And if we’re talking about relevancy within GLAM institutions, I’d say that in the case of the TOM, this was a powerful tact to take. 

There is, then, significant strength to grounding an exhibition in its locality. In my opinion, the unique facet of local museums and galleries is that they are oftentimes inextricably tied to their locality; their chief object must be to remain relevant to those communities. The TOM certainly succeeded here, offering an exhibition in which visitors could see both themselves and their home. The exhibition was meant to have closed on January 5th, 2020, but it’s been extended through to the end of February due to its popularity.

"Relevant museums are therefore meaningful museums."

Another collection of paintings from the exhibition. Among them: A.Y. Jackson, Arthur Lismer, and Illingworth Kerr. Photo courtesy of Madison Carmichael. 

As I mentioned, the Georgian Bay region is not home to me in the same way it was (and is) to the artists featured here. But it has certainly become familiar. When I left the gallery and made my way out from Owen Sound proper, I caught sight of 9th Street.

Roly Fenwick’s “9th Street West.” It depicts the northern entrance to Owen Sound, where he was born and grew up. Photo courtesy of Madison Carmichael.  

I thought immediately of this painting. I looked at it from the opposite angle, but I recognized the slope of the street, the rock rising on both sides, and the trees lining it. Moore was right. In my recognition of this landscape, I felt a sense of comfort; and I felt a sense of connection not only to Owen Sound but to the TOM itself. 

That feeling stuck with me the whole way home. 

DOES ALL OF THIS BELONG TO YOU?: PUBLIC SPACE IN THE GLAM SECTOR

GLAM Guide | Madison Carmichael

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More than a century ago, in 1917, John Cotton Dana – a Progressive Era thinker and a proponent for the re-imagination of the public library – wrote an essay titled: “The Gloom of the Museum.” With eerie accuracy, Dana said of the museum that:

“They become enamoured of rarity, of history … They become lost in their specialties and forget their museum. They become lost in their idea of a museum and forget its purpose. They become lost in working out their idea of a museum and forget their public. And soon, not being brought constantly in touch with the life of their community … they become entirely separated from it and go on making beautifully complete and very expensive collections but never construct a living, active, and effective institution.” (Source)

102 years ago, John Cotton Dana grappled with the same problem of museums that we here in Museum Studies grapple with today. As I said, it’s eerie. It’s troubling. And it’s something of a wake-up call. As museums continue to wrestle with their relevancy, they also wrestle with their purpose and, as Dana points out, if the museum forgets their purpose they forget their public and are inevitably estranged. 

For the purposes of this article, I am intrigued by how Dana ties purpose to public. There’s some consensus to the idea that museums – and most GLAM institutions writ large – exist for the benefit of the public. But are they public spaces? 

This bold, bright claim served as the title and centerpiece for the Victoria & Albert Museum's 2015 Exhibition. (Source)

The image above is from the Victoria & Albert Museum’s “All of This Belongs to You” Exhibition in 2015. Already that intrigued me, but if you will – just for a moment – divorce the image from its institution, the sentiment is somehow even more striking. Imagine walking into a museum that declares, in bright, white lights, that all of this belongs to you. I’m not sure I’d buy it. 

This exhibition took place during election season in Britain, back in 2015. At the time, the V&A sought to examine the role of public institutions in contemporary life and their role as stewards of a national collection. The exhibition sought to question the opportunities, obligations, and limits to participation in the V&A and explored how design and architecture define civic identity, citizenship, democracy, the public realm, and the urban experience. 

Civic identity, democracy, and the public realm: although the latter could be otherwise known as the public sphere, which is comprised of public spaces. 

This glass chandelier hangs in the V&A Rotunda, at the entrance to the museum. (Source)

Public space is a broad and perhaps a murky term. The important part is that it must host, to some extent, discourse that is of public importance. As defined by Jennifer Barrett, in her book, “Museums and the Public Sphere,” public spaces are spaces of contestation within civil society. It is perhaps redundant on my part to add that museums are certainly sites of contestation, but I think that it’s worth questioning for whom they are sites of contestation. Museums are, as Barrett argues, often excluded from consideration as public spaces due to their status as institutions of the state.

Laura Raicovich writes from the Brooklyn Public Library, which has 59 branches throughout Brooklyn. This library endeavors to cultivate curiosity and to encourage their visitors to question their society. (Source)

In contrast, libraries are often considered to possess a public spirit that museums do not. In her examination of the Brooklyn Public Library, Laura Raicovich explains that as a public space, the library’s job is to encourage its visitors’ capacity to question their reality and dig into their discomfort. She critically states that: “a true public space is constantly negotiating knowledge or the lack of it, rather than presenting a position of expertise.” Public spaces must not only be open to contestation; they must welcome it. To her, libraries – and public spaces more broadly – should be considered by the public as spaces within which they can negotiate issues of public importance.

Library and Archives Canada acquires, preserves, and provides access to documentary heritage for any curious Canadians. (Source)

This is also true of public archives, despite how popular culture might paint them (i.e., dusty, dim, and disorderly), for they too possess a civic-minded spirit. According to Jennifer Anderson, an archivist from Library and Archives Canada, public archives believe that the truth matters, and their research is concerned with understanding the past. Archivists operate on the conviction that people have a right to understand their society, so they engage in community outreach, research, and teaching, and in doing so, they hope to model engaged citizenship and organize their values around democracy and respect for people. In short, they endeavor to convey ideals of the public good and ideas of public importance. 

The John Madejski Garden rests at the heart of the V&A. It serves as a place to gather, rest, and view outdoor displays. Could this be a public space? (Source.)

So, where does that leave museums and galleries? Have museums truly, as John Cotton Dana put it, become so devoted to the creation of intricate, show-stopping exhibitions at the expense of any efforts to become “a living, active, and effective institution”? I have no concrete answer to offer you. It’s a question we’re still tossing around. But this much is clear: if we want the museum to belong to us, as the V&A purported back in 2015, then museums and galleries must become sites where people can explore, discuss, and address matters of public importance despite their status as institutions of the state. 

I’ll leave you with this. In 2017 – a century exactly from John Cotton Dana – at the Ontario Museums Associations conference, Dr. Guy Berthiaume spoke to the value of memory organizations. Of GLAM institutions, he said: “GLAMs represent not only safety, but freedom. Freedom to think and to question, to create, and, of course, to disagree.” I like the sound of that. But I’m not sure I’ll buy it until we see more of an effort on part of museums to open up their space for questioning, creating, and disagreeing, for the welcoming of a diversity of voices, or for a more concrete assertion that the museum is indeed a living, active, and effective space that belongs to us all.

RIGHT UNDER YOUR NOSE: AWARENESS & ACCESS IN MUSEUM LIBRARIES

GLAM Guide | Madison Carmichael

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On our faculty’s recent trip to Ottawa, I was enlightened to the existence of the museum library. My fellow students and I saw many; we visited in the Military History Research Centre at the Canadian War Museum, and we spent time in the Resource Centre at the Canadian Museum of History. Upon further digging, I discovered that the National Gallery of Canada and the Canada Science and Technology Museum – other stops on our whirlwind tour of Ottawa – also contained library collections.

These libraries had been hiding right under my nose. But I’m not the only one. Lisa Harms, a former Assistant Museum Librarian at the Museum of Metropolitan Art, wrote something similar for the MET’s blog nearly a decade ago: 

“It does not occur to most Museum visitors that museums usually have libraries. In fact, until I saw the job opening for my position, it had not really occurred to me either."

Lisa Harms worked at the Thomas J. Watson Library at the MET. Like myself – and many other members of the public – she hadn’t considered a ‘museum library’ until working in one. (Source.)

When the GLAM sector speaks of collaboration between the museum and the library, these conversations often settle around the notion that museums could benefit from the public-oriented spirit of the public library. Thinking back on my time in various museum libraries in Ottawa, I wonder what these conversations might mean for these seemingly hidden collections; and I wonder why they seem hidden from us at all.

In 1999, Jan van der Wateren wrote on the importance of the museum library. He explained that as museums grew in number in the 19th-century, the library formed an integral part of these growing institutions. These libraries were established in conjunction with the museum’s collection, either to document the objects within it or to provide further context for them. In essence, van der Wateren tells us, the museum library was – in its earliest incarnation – meant to compensate for the inherent limitations of the museum in comprehensively researching, documenting, and even interpreting an object.

Jan van der Wateren wrote from a position at the library within Victoria and Albert Museum, which was established in the mid-1850s to hold illustrated books for the School of Design. (Source.)

Historically, this has been their purpose, and as a result, their purveyors largely remain within the realm of scholarship and research. Esther Roth-Katz, who completed a survey study of art museum library websites, concurred. Within the museum library, research collections developed to meet the needs of their institution’s staff and researchers. The access guidelines of the websites in her survey reflected this: while over half the libraries she looked at allowed public access, 25% made no mention of who was allowed or else limited their user groups to scholars and researchers.

I’d argue that in part, Ms. Harms had the right of it: for many, the existence of a museum library doesn’t occur to them. But it's also worth considering that because museum libraries are grounded in a research-oriented history, this lack of awareness may also stem from the fact that many members of the public don't identify with terminology like scholar or researcher; and so they do not consider museum libraries as a space open to the public more broadly.  

The German National Museum was created in 1852, alongside a library and archive to better document the history the German art in its collection. (Source.)

All of this is to say that museum libraries are an interesting facet of any conversation about opening up GLAM institutions to greater visitor access. Many institutions are using digitization and the internet more broadly to increase the visibility of their collections. However, as Roth-Katz puts it, visibility does not accessibility make. While libraries have a vested interest in sharing their knowledge with the public, the materials they hold are oftentimes rare and valuable. There is a tension between the preservation and protection of those materials and the belief that the public is entitled to access them as well. It speaks to the conversation that museums are having more broadly about their collections; as repositories of history, what do they hold those histories for? And more pertinently, for whom?

It’s a difficult question, one mitigated by the necessity to protect and preserve objects within a library’s collection. But such a necessity does not mean keeping library doors closed. Museum libraries allow public access to their collections, either by visit or by appointment, and the growing initiative of GLAM institutions to digitize their collections or else grow their digital presence works to increase awareness of their library collections and resources.

I was discussing this topic with a colleague last week, and she offered up a quote I’d like to close with. Augustus de Morgan said the following in his book, “Arithmetical Books from the Invention of Printing to the Present Time,” of the library in the British Museum:

“If it be wanted, it can be asked for; but to be wanted it must be known.” (Augustus de Morgan. 1806-1871)

It’s all well and good for the public to have access to the museum library. But considering that Ms. Harms wrote of a discovery much like my own nearly a decade ago, I would argue that it is just as important that we know about these wonderful collections in the first place, so that we might think access them at all.

OPEN UP: ACCESS, EXPERIENCE, & PARTICIPATION IN THE GLAM SECTOR

GLAM Guide | Madison Carmichael

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In his presentation at re:publica 2019, the thirteenth edition of that conference, Douglas McCarthy centered his keynote talk around the following quote from the American judge and legal philosopher Learned Hand: 

“The spirit of liberty is the spirit which is not too sure that it is right...it seeks to understand the minds of other men and women.” (Learned Hand, 1872-1961)

He tells us that in this quote is a humility that he would like to see more of in the museum sector, though I’d argue that it’s applicable to the GLAM sector writ large. Certainly, there is a beautiful sort of freedom in the admittance of I don’t know. When we don’t know something, we reach out. We ask questions. And when others answer, hopefully we listen. 

McCarthy goes on to say that museums should embrace “a confident but unsure listening mode.” The time is past for top-down dictation to the public. There’s been a shift in how people interact with GLAM content and with the institutions themselves, so we’re faced with a more participatory reality, and the challenge for the GLAM sector, McCarthy says, lies in embracing it.  

So, it’s time for the GLAM sector to open up. Or, to continue opening up. This includes both opening the GLAM mindset to experiences that are immersive and innovative and opening the sector’s extensive collections to the public. It means re-establishing GLAM institutions as places for community. 

I’ll admit that this is a very lofty assertion. But it is a worthwhile one, and it’s not as though we’re starting from scratch. In the GLAM sector, several institutions have already begun to embrace a more accessible, experiential, and participatory approach to their work. 

Through the Rijksstudio, the Rijksmuseum has allowed for much of their collection to be viewed by the public. Source.

Perhaps the most well-known and widespread trend in the GLAM sector is growing access to the full collection of an institution through digitization. These collections are available in their entirety, rather than as curated exhibits. The Rijksstudio, a project from the Rijksmuseum, takes this a step further. By allowing visitors to create their own “studio,” or collection of artworks and objects, the Rijksstudio makes apparent the stories that each and every visitor uncovers within the collection. Flowers, fancy headgear, animals and more – studios created by users reveals the multitude of stories hidden within the collection that are yet to be told. 

With less than 5% of the collection shown in the museum, the SFMOMA decided that the best way to show off their artwork was to bring it out from the museum. Source.

In the same vein, GLAM institutions are changing how they display their collections physically. For museums like the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, an institution that displays less than 5% of their collection within the actual museum, physical display isn’t enough. In June 2017, SFMOMA launched “Send me SFMOMA,” a digital initiative wherein a person would text a number, with a keyword, colour, or emoji, and the SFMOMA would send them a related artwork by text. The aim was to show more of SFMOMA’s collection with people across the United States, and through this service, people could personalize what artwork they received. The response was overwhelming; by the end of July 2017, SFMOMA had received over 3.7 million text requests. Many, many people invited art and culture into their daily lives, and they didn’t have to visit the museum to do it.  

More than just their collections, GLAM institutions have also begun to digitize exhibits, opening up their content and stories to audiences beyond their buildings. The Warsaw Rising Museum exhibits decades of Polish history online. Source. 

Part of that “listening mode” I mentioned earlier is learning where people are at. For some, that is not within a GLAM institution, for a multitude of reasons. As with moving collections online, many institutions have begun to move visitor experiences beyond their walls as well. SFMOMA did so through a digital service, bringing a personally curated art experience to people across the United States. The Warsaw Rising Museum  delivered an entire exhibit through a website. “Warsaw Rising” depicts the history of Warsaw from 1918 onward. The focus is, of course, is the Warsaw Rising, but there is certainly a thematic emphasis on Warsaw as a dynamic, developing city, despite its hardships. It is a fully interactive exhibit with compelling text, audio, and visuals – it is indeed an entire exhibit online. 

Europeana provides access for 50 million digitized items from many European institutions. Source.

I want to close by returning to Douglas McCarthy for a moment. As Collections Manager for Europeana Collections, McCarthy is part of an organization that works with thousands of European archives, libraries, and museums to share cultural heritage with the aim of making it easier to use, whether that be for work, learning, or fun. This approach is useful, I think, for the GLAM sector wholesale; in working to make cultural heritage easier to use, access, and explore, we make it accessible to a wider public, thereby opening up our institutions to a greater world of possibility. 

GLAMOROUS GLAMS: 6 STUNNING GLAM BUILDINGS

GLAM Guide | Evelyn Feldman

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For my final Musings post, I wanted to celebrate the beauty of some GLAM spaces. Whether big or small, modernist, classical, or brutalist, GLAM buildings often have stunning designs.

In these stressful final weeks of the semester (if you are a student), I hope this post can give you a thoughtful break through the appreciation of some extraordinary, glamorous GLAMs.

Niterói Contemporary Art Museum 

This museum in Niterói, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, looks kind of like a UFO. It finished construction in 1996 and was designed by Oscar Niemeyer.

The beginnings of its construction were connected to political scandal.

Niterói Contemporary Art Museum in Brazil. Source (top). Source (bottom).

National Archives building of the BAnQ

The BAnQ (Bibliothèque et Archives Nationales du Québec) has several facilities throughout Quebec, and was created in a merging of Quebec's national archives and national library in 2006, making it an example of GLAM convergence.

While the Grande Bibliothèque in Downtown Montreal is pretty stunning too, I decided to show off the somewhat lesser-known national archives, which are located in the Gilles Hocquart Building in Montreal.

The interior design was done in part by the Provencher agency, who also designed the beautiful First Collector Sewer and Québécor Pavilion renovation in Montreal's Point-à-Callière Museum.

National Archives of the BAnQ, Montreal, Quebec. Source (top). Source (bottom left). Source (bottom right).

Anne of Green Gables Museum

Maybe you're not a glam kind of person, and cozy is more your style. Then the Anne of Green Gables Museum at Silver Bush, in Kensington, Prince Edward Island, might be the museum for you!

The building housing this museum was used as the setting for Lucy Maud Montgomery's novels Pat of Silver Bush and Mistress Pat.

Not to be confused with Green Gables House, another related heritage site.

The Anne of Green Gables Museum at Silver Bush in Kensington, Prince Edward Island. Source.

The Guggenheim 

Okay, this one is a classic, but also a personal favourite. Isn't there something kind of glamorous about that swirling white gallery wall? 

Whether or not you're a fan of the white gallery wall, Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York is certainly extraordinary. Completed in 1959, the Frank Lloyd Wright design recalls a nautilus shell, with a continuous ramp spiralling towards the ceiling.

The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York City. Source (top). Source (bottom).

Calgary Central Library

Lastly I have to squeeze in a couple of libraries! First is Calgary's new Central Library, which just opened in November 2018 and is all the talk of library land.

A section of the Calgary CTrain, a light rail transit system, runs right through the middle of the building. You can watch a time lapse of the library's construction here.

The New Central Library in Calgary. Source (top left). Source (top right). Source (bottom).

The Toronto Reference Library

Let's finish close to home, with the Toronto Reference Library. While it may look a bit like a boring brick on the outside, the Toronto Reference Library's interior is stunning.

Maybe you've already heard of this one, but did you know that the Reference Library features in The Weeknd's music video for Secrets? Or that its floors used to be lined with hanging plants, evoking imagery of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?

The Toronto Reference Library. Source (top). Source (bottom).

Really, there were hundreds--thousands--of GLAMs I could have chosen for this post. Some runner-ups include the Biblioteca Sandro Penna in Perugia, Italy (another UFO!), the Tama Art University Library in Tokyo, Japan, the Erawan Museum in Samut Prakan Province, Thailand (the museum is inside a three-headed elephant), and the Vennesla Library and Culture House in Vennesla, Norway (isn't culture house a neat term for a library?)

I hope this list of glamorous GLAM buildings has given you a break from the stressful final weeks of your semester--or any other pressures of your day.