Where have I been?

I'll tell ya where, up to my eyeballs!

Three weeks ago, give or take, we were presented an opportunity to display some pretty killer artifacts from a major movie studio/property. Major. I'll spill as soon as the release is out.

So of course, we said, you betcha! We can do this! And then the caveat...marketing wants it for spring break. Which is in 3 more weeks. Seriously, spring break starts 2 weeks from Friday. We are installing a 400 square foot exhibit, complete with graphics, mounts, text panels and custom case work - in 3 weeks. Did I mention its not a traveller, but we are creating it from scratch?

So, in the course of about a month (from final decision to opening) we will have gone from rough sketch to finished show. Insane.

Part of me loves this stuff. Guerilla style exhibit design/production: borrowing cases from other museums (who know the pain of these "opportunities"), enlisting local fraternities for heavy lifting, writing labels in days rather than months.  Its great, because I think you get a fresh and creative exhibit - one that hasnt had the life edited out of it. I've seen developers spend weeks on a 50 word panel, tweaking it just so...then start over after they see the layout. With this, there is no time. Every member of the team has to make command decisions and just do it. Its like Project Runway meets museums. We make it work.

But, here is the downside. I know the team. I know every member and their work and ethic. I know that this exhibit will rock. It isnt overly interactive, but seriously people, 3 weeks! It's going to be beautiful and cool and families will ooh and ahh. And we will be able to say, yep, we did that in 3 weeks.

And then next year, we will have the same problem, and we will have PROVEN that we can do it in 3 weeks, so we will have no recourse to say "its impossible." Damned if you do, damned if you don't, eh?

So, anywho, just wanted to share what's up at TCM. I'll be posting more soon - upcoming topics: social media pitfalls and plusses, life with Barbie, local layoffs and meeting with area CEOs for class. All interesting things.

Designing for Critical Thinking

A short bit on designing for critical thinking/dialogue. Some bits of this were originally part of an article I co-authored for the Fall 2007 issue of Museums and Social Issues. This bit was unfortunately cut, but I feel like revisiting it.

Museums are not classrooms. We hear it constantly; we repeat it constantly. Attempts to bring classroom methods to museums are often met with heavy resistance. Partly this is because many attempts to integrate classroom philosophies into museums fail to adapt to the unique environment of non-formal education. Partly this may be because museums pride themselves on being non-formal, and thus fail to see the value in philosophies based in formal education.

Whatever the reason, I find myself stuck trying to find real ways to effect the goals of critical pedagogy in the museum setting. True critical pedagogy, as championed by Friere and others, requires a skilled facilitator to help participants through the process of learning. In much of the reading so far, it seems that facilitation remains the best way to stimulate dialogue and critical learning. So how can we facilitate, through an exhibit, without a guide or docent?
Exhibits communicate in several ways: through objects, interpretive text and design. So, how can an exhibit, without a single person to facilitate, encourage dialogue and inspire visitors to think critically about their world? What elements of design and development encourage critical thought and dialogue? Conversely, what elements may inadvertently communicate hegemony and positions of power?

In the original incarnation of the article “Can You Do That?,” we included a section on designing for dialogue. I would like to further investigate this concept and find an avenue for publication. I think that exhibit design often gets overlooked in favor of programming, but many museums cannot support long term programming with professionally trained facilitators.

Objects:
• As indicated in the Hooper-Greenhill, “objects do not speak for themselves…objects are spoken.” Every exhibit displays curatorial choices in display. Linked objects, display context, use of images and object display style all communicate to the public. The choice of object displayed can communicate ideas about power and control as well.

Labels:
• Labels are generally the way that museums communicate through exhibits. Labels should strive against being overly didactic and should serve to stimulate critical thinking. As per Lindauer, labels can be used to disrupt hegemony and displace authority. Prompting questions can also serve to stimulate dialogue.

Design:
• Comfort! Critical thinking is uncomfortable. Dialogue is uncomfortable. If you try to combine these with an uncomfortable physical environment, you set yourself up to fail. Soft seating, pleasant lighting, protected spaces, etc, all can lead to enhanced opportunities for dialogue and thinking.
• Placement of exhibits and components is important. What message does it send if an exhibit about this history of communities of color is tucked back in a seldom visited corner? Or if an exhibit on migrant farm workers is displayed in a poorly organized hallway? Likewise, if hegemonic displays are given a place of prominence, it sends a similar message.

More on this to come.

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.

What's the Big Idea?

Museum exhibit people can be obnoxious. We have to make just about everything difficult. Nearly every day, someone comes up to me and says “I have a great idea for an exhibit!” and proceeds to tell me about an interactive they’ve dreamed up, or a topic they love. (My sister insists that an exhibit about wax would pack ‘em in.) Then I ask the dreaded question: “So, what’s the point?” I’m not trying to be mean, but trying to get across that to be an effective exhibit, it needs a why. It needs a Big Idea.

The Big Idea is a frustrating master. Without one, you cannot hope to know if your exhibit was effective. But with one, you are constantly bound by the question “does it speak to the Big Idea?” The concept has provoked many a developer ranting “but it’s fun dammit!”

So why does this matter? Well, we hope that exhibit designers and builders aren’t creating exhibits for themselves. There are these people called visitors, and the exhibit, ultimately is for them.

A good exhibit changes a visitor. The change can be in their knowledge or skills, their attitude or behavior, or their life conditions. An exhibit on the plight of the purple-horned snorkack could change my attitude toward them and my behavior (if I feel compelled to help them.) An exhibit about the history of 18^th century flatware will certainly add to my knowledge base. What will your exhibit do for the visitor?

The following is NOT a big idea: Biodiversity

That is a topic. It’s a good one, but it isn’t a big idea.

This is a big idea: Diversity of life is necessary for the survival of all living things; diversity is under threat primarily by human beings living in the environment, but things can be done and are being done to help. (Courtesy AMNH)

A big idea is a complete sentence. Ideally it should answer the Enduring Question. For this example, the Enduring Question is: “Why should we care about the diversity of life?”

An effective way of creating a successful exhibit is to work backwards. Start with the end result – not the interactive, but the experience the visitor will have – and work back to the concepts.

Stages of Backward Design:

1) Think about what you want your visitor to come away with.
2) Think about how you will know if they “get it”
3) Plan the experience to make sure they do!

So, what is your Big Idea? How can designing backwards help your exhibit to be more effective?

(Info gathered from The Children's Museum of Indianapolis, Dr. Elee Wood and the Shaping Outcomes training)

SL Internship, month one

I am now officially one month into my internship with The Tech, and I think things are going well. I am teaching building classes twice a week, and leading tours on weekends. People always say that you learn better when you teach someone else, and I think that holds true here. I continue to feel more and more comfortable with simple building, navigating, and explaining just what the heck we are doing here.

My first class was - less than great. Had 2 people show up 30 minutes late, and neither one really needed a basic class. That prompted me to add a description of just how basic - basic was. Its like, make a cube. Change its size. Change its color. Voila! Simple stuff. I dont want people to come in thinking I am going to teach them how to create buildings and steampunk engines, etc. Nope, just boxes and balls. But...look what we did with boxes and balls!

Tonight, between 4 of us, we experimented our way to a greater understanding of some of the intricacies of prim building. And this, I think, is a point in favor of SL.

Even on the most cohesive exhibit team, not everyone gets to be part of every step. The developer spends a great deal of time coming up with the ideas, while the curator combs the archives. The designer locks herself away to sketch and draw, while the production team asks you to stay out of their hair while they build. Its necessary to have specific skills on the team, and you cannot expect every team member to be able to contribute to every step along the way.

Imagine a team building an exhibit - they all go into a room that is filled with every substance imaginable. They can all build, as very few skills are required. They take time to experiment with wild ideas. They play. Imagine what kind of exhibit could come from that? I dont see SL as an analogue of the RL design process, but rather as a tool for building creativity.

In RL I am currently working on a new exhibit. Our exhibit process is very open and creative, and we spend lots of time brainstorming, refining ideas, etc. What we dont get lots of time to do is play around with the physical. I can suggest changes, but those need to go to the developer, then to the designer, then to the CAD designer, then to the production engineer and graphics designer, then back to me for approval. Whew! And what if I dont like it after all? It becomes like the classic comedy scene - move the couch over here. No maybe here. No maybe back there after all.

But in SL - I can be working away and suddenly think - Hm, would this look better with a curved surface? Or, what if it were stone? And I can change it in a flash, and change it back. No harm, no foul. And everyone on the team could have their say. And, as the budget manager in me has to say it, you havent spent a dime.

Could museums use SL as a brainstorming lab? A place where they could go to play with ideas?