Another article

This time from Time Out Chicago, bemoaning the current focus on kid-friendly exhibits. I am of two minds about this. On one hand, I can understand that adults, especially those without kids, might feel left out of current offerings at museums. But on the other hand, I think too often adults feel like they "should" learn a certain way. They forget that they can also learn by playing. Of course, maybe working so long in a children's museum has warped me. :)

Adult Education in Museums?

The venue’s current grown-up–geared exhibit is a beautiful melange of antique space trinkets called “Planetary Machines.” Mechanized 18th- and 19th- century models of space along with pages torn from ancient encyclopedias let you peek into the minds of Enlightenment-era elites. Difficult to dumb down, texts bestow large chunks of information... it’s refreshing to, quite simply, observe an artifact and read about it.

See? Why do we insist that all adults want to do is read big ole text panels about objects? I mean, I love the idea of this show, but I would want to play with the orrerys, maybe even try to make my own. I am not a child (although I am rather child-like) but that doesn't mean I don't want to play.

I think there has to be a middle ground here. We often refer to it as the "Looney Toon" ideal. Watch an old Bugs Bunny cartoon with a kid sometime. Or The Muppet Show. Or Shrek. The reason these programs are so successful is that they appeal on a broad level. There are jokes that a 3 year old can get. And there are jokes that are clearly targeted at adults. We should be striving to build our exhibits to suit everyone.

We are currently working on a refresh of our winter exhibit, Jolly Days. One thing the team is pushing for is something for the grown ups. Even something small, but something that makes them laugh, smile, or better yet, learn something! I think we generally do a good job of creating exhibits that have something for everyone, but we could always do better. Our "something for everyone" sometimes translates into "something for preschoolers, and elementary age, but probably not older." Given our audience, its understandable, but even something small can help make the experience better for everyone.

Blockbusters: Boom or Bust?

Charity (my awesome boss, though she hates me calling her that) and I were just discussing the sudden interest in our traveling exhibits. Not a bad thing, not by a long shot, but still, sudden. We produce traveling exhibits for children's museums. We currently have 2 on the road, and one more scheduled for 2009. And about 4 in the works - ish. And it seems, that we will continue to have them all booked up all the time! Which, is wonderful...but it does lead me to wonder what is happening to the industry that we are being so flooded with requests.

A few things come to mind, and none of them are any more than the ramblings of my own mind. So, don't quote me.

1) Museums are under pressure to maintain high levels of visitation and membership, and have seen that temporary/traveling exhibits can help with this.

There is always discussion on mailing lists and at conferences on the value of traveling exhibits. On one side of the argument, is it worth the money (sometimes LOTS of money) spent on a temporary show, when the same amount could build a gorgeous permanent exhibit? Decent large shows (5000 -8000 square feet) now regularly rent for $150K+ for 3 months. Add in shipping, labor, etc, and you've got a sizeable cost. Blockbuster shows can require a guarantee of millions of dollars - which means if you don't make that much, you owe them cash. It's a hefty investment and in a museum struggling with finances, can be a huge gamble.

On the other side, the argument is that visitors are fickle. They want something new every time they come. For a museum such as ours, over 50% of our visitation comes in the form of members - who often visit 3-4 times per year or more. Yes, they visit their favorite spaces, but if you never give them new, they will not come back as often. In a market like Indianapolis, it doesn't take long before you have maxed out your audience. Then you have to rely on repeat visitation to increase your numbers. Temporary shows help with this, as it gives people a call to action to come back. Add to this that changing exhibits are easier to market, and you have a strong argument in favor of hosting these shows.

2) There isn't anything out there

My job is to manage our temporary/special/changing exhibits. Whatever you want to call them. And let me tell you, pickin's are slim. Where once we hosted exhibits about toys, bears, or economics - we now almost exclusively host shows featuring cartoon characters, popular books, or grown up artifact shows. The name is driving selection as much as the content. Even at a children's museum, it has to be sexy. Nanotechnology? Love it, want it, would love to host it. Can we market it? Ehhhh, I don't know.

And, with the focus on licensed product for exhibits, that means there are fewer museums that can produce these exhibits and fewer museums that can host them. And, the well of IP may be limited, but the good stuff at the top goes fast. Sure, you can probably get a license agreement from the author and publisher of a marginally popular children's book, but you probably can't sell/market it.

2) The growth of the blockbuster exhibit world is slowly killing the little guy.

I'm not going to pull any punches here. I firmly believe that, no matter how cool they are, blockbuster exhibits are killing the industry. They are another step towards the corporatization of the museum world, and they are further separating the museum world into a sort of "haves" and "have nots". As mentioned above, blockbuster exhibits come with a hefty price, but not just financial.

Blockbuster exhibits, like Body Worlds, Tut, Vatican, and Titanic, came on the scene in the 70s, with the first Tut show. At the time, that show was groundbreaking, and the crowds were more than happy to stand in line and shove through like cattle. The term "blockbuster" came from the movie industry - a term meant to imply a double threat, a financially viable show that features amazing content and quality exhibitry. But, as we have seen with the film industry, just because something is a blockbuster, it doesn't mean it is good. I give you High School Musical, Speed Racer and The Mummy 3.

The blockbuster boom has led to a glut of exhibit copies (there are at least 3 Body Worlds on the road) and knock-offs (Bodies: The Exhibition - more on that in the next post). The simple supply/demand model kicks in, and as more exhibits become available, and visitors have more options, the exhibits become less financially sound. If you know you can see Body Worlds anywhere, why worry about driving to see it? There's no rush, no call to action. There is no longer a "limited time only."

Other issues:
* With the perceived success of exhibits like Tut and Body Worlds, everyone wants in on the game. When a museum proposes an exhibit to an IP holder or the owner of an artifact, they expect handsome compensation. After all, if Tut can rake in millions, why can't their pirate ship/costume collection/famous toy exhibit?
* With the drive to use licensed product, exhibit producers are bending more and more to the will of the IP holder. The museum or exhibit company is no longer in charge of the content or design of the exhibit. We are no longer trusted with our own expertise. And the exhibits suffer for it.
* The drive to create these shows leads to shorter development time. This leads to mixed messaging, mish-mashed content, and sloppy design.

Well, this became a rant on blockbuster shows, but so be it. I won't say that I didn't enjoy Body Worlds, or Titanic. I wont say I am not excited about Tut. But, like everything else, the bubble cannot hold. Soon, very soon, the blockbuster bubble will break, and museums will be left with empty schedules and a demanding public. So what then?

How can we as an industry return to creating strong exhibits that stand on their own, without a $15 ticket charge and a hard bound catalogue? Seriously, I'm asking.

Transported by an exhibit

This weekend, I took a whirlwind trip to the Arizona Science Center, to see The Chronicles of Narnia exhibit. While there, I started thinking about exhibits that transport you - that really take you out of yourself for a while. AzSC did it in Narnia, but also in their Forces of Nature exhibit.

During the development of Dinosphere, here at The Children's Museum of Indianapolis, immersive was the buzzword of the day. Now, usually a "buzzword" is a bad thing, but really, the word is completely appropriate for what was created. The exhibit IS immersive and is very effective. Usually when we talk about immersive exhibits, we talk about the elements that engage the senses. Dinosphere uses dramatic lighting and projection (sight), amazing audio (sound), the scents of magnolia blossom and dung (smell), and hands-on casts (touch) to create this environment. But a truly immersive environment - and indeed this one - is more than the sum of its parts.

When you step into Dinosphere (and I do believe I am not being completely biased here - just slightly) you are met with a feeling of being taken away from the rest of the museum. You know you aren't in the Late Cretaceous, because, well, those Dinos wouldnt be just bones, would they. Nor would there be as many strollers. But you feel elsewhere. Even with the crowds and the children and the fact that you know you are in a museum, for just a moment, you are able to lose yourself in the exhibit.

So, why did my trip to AZ trigger this? The two aforementioned exhibits each had a moment of transporting the visitor elsewhere, but in very different ways.

The Narnia exhibit has one of the best "reveals" of an exhibit I have seen so far. I think the only show I have seen recently that comes close is Real Pirates. The queue space is dressed out as CS Lewis' study, with additional photos/posters/etc that explain (kind of) the practice of sending British children to the country during WWII. The design starts with a lion motif there, with some great propoganda posters showing a regal lion to represent Britain. There were also amazing artifacts, which I fear would be overlooked with a packed queue. Among the artifacts were the actual wardrobe from Lewis' office that inspired the book, as well as letters, a journal and a desk.

The group is gathered into the orientation theater - a wonderfully recreated Spare Oom. The exhibit geek in me was particularly taken by the rubber floor that looked like an old hardwood floor. The orientation theater didnt show a film, but rather had an audio track, narrated I believe by Lewis' stepson, and some environmental bits - rain at the windows (because it was a rainy day) and dim lighting. At the moment of the reveal, the spots came up on the wardrobe doors and they opened, revealing a passage lined with fur coats and a beautiful wintry scene. And it was snowing on me. Amazing! There I was, by the lamp post, with a backdrop of snowy trees, with flakes coming down on me.

For a few moments, I was Susan (always did identify with the one not allowed back into Narnia more) stepping into Narnia for the first time. I was completely transported in that one area. Now, I'll probably have more at some point about the rest of the exhibit, but for now, know that the reveal is tremendous, and that you really do feel there, if only for a moment.

A contrast to this is AZScience's Forces of Nature exhibit. Narnia, like Dinosphere, takes a page from classic theatrical sets and immersive theme park settings, complete with foliage and faux rocks. In Forces of Nature, all you get is a metal platform, 4 large screens and an assortment of fixtures hanging above.

The theater was amazing! The show was a few minutes long (I honestly don't know because when I tried to time it I kept getting distracted by the awesomeness) and runs through various earth events - from lightning strikes to hurricanes to forest fires. The above fixtures provide light, sound, wind, rain and heat to let you experience these forces.

The show begins with a beautiful video of lightning strikes complemented by flashes of lights and rumbles from the floor. The segment ends with a dramatic shot of a tree being struck, coupled with a bright flash and a "CRACK!" along with a big shake of the floor. And all the children around screamed. Then we move into forest fires - as the heat lamps all around raged, and everyone clustered to the middle of the platform to escape the heat. Then a tornado, an earthquake, a hurricane with "rain", a dust storm, monsoon....

It was amazing. The visitors were so into it, and were transported. It didnt matter that they were just standing on a platform in a busy gallery. There was nothing that blocked the rest of the exhibit from view. But when that hurricane started, the adults pulled their kids closer. When the fires raged, people moved away. It was wonderful.

Both exhibits did this well. Both transported you. Others have done too. But the Forces one impressed me most because it did it without building a huge display or theater, and trusted in the power of the experience, rather than the set dressing.

Long time no post....

With internship complete and summer barreling along toward fall, I have been neglecting my blog (mostly due to the insane amount of time spent on Facebook lately). My thought was always to continue it as a place to talk about museums, education and life in general. Not that I assume that I have any sort of audience, but a girl can pretend, yes?

Reading through today's Google Alerts, I stumbled upon Stephanie Weaver's blog. Weaver is the author of "Creating Great Visitor Experiences." It's an easy read, and should be required for anyone in museums. Some of the advice is pretty standard, but then again, after 6 years as a front line manager plus time in retail and food service, I've had just about every customer service training in the book.

Weaver's blog is really nice! I plan to spend some dedicated time reading the archives, particularly the "Sunday Signpost"...er...posts. I am not a graphic designer, but in my capacity as project manager, I have become quite enamored of signs and graphic/text panels. When well done, they are amazing. When not, they are....not.

One particular post caught my eye. Weaver shares a simple dry-erase style sign from an airport, and makes the comment that it "tells [her] that they care about the customer experience." What a fascinating concept! And I mean that without sarcasm. In some museums, a handwritten sign would never be used. I can be seen as unprofessional, sloppy and careless. However, as pointed out by Seth Godin, sometimes a handmade sign can be more effective. It draws the eye by virtue of its imperfection. Humans respond to humanity - and while a gorgeous graphic layout can be wonderful, sometimes a simple sign is best.

So, what's a creative designer to do? If you aren't allowed to make a handmade sign, how do you get the point across? Here at TCM we recently used a professional sign, made to look like a Post-It note, with a scriptlike font. It gives the feel of handmade, but without actually being handmade. Does this satisfy the need for the "human element" in signs?

And what about the customer service angle? The reason a handmade sign gives good customer service is that it says, with little fanfare, that you care enough to change courses and respond immediately to them. Handmade signs are not generally a long term solution in museums, but are ideal for quick communication about exhibit programs, special events, closings, etc.

In what other ways can we use "human" created elements? Or things that appear to be handmade? How will those elements change our design? How will they change the way visitors use the exhibit?