In the Room Where It (sorta) Happened: ICOM's Museum Definition

Last week, along with 4,000 or so other museum folks, I was in Kyoto, Japan for the triennial International Council of Museums conference.  Both before and after the conference, there has been a great deal of discussion--among museum colleagues and in the public sphere--about a proposed new definition of museums.  I tweeted --and retweeted others--pretty extensively during the loooong general assembly about the definition.  Now that I've been back a week and had some time to reflect, I wanted to share some thoughts about process and product.

What is ICOM anyway?
To begin, more than a few Americans wondered about why anyone would care about what ICOM did in the first place--and who were those people voting?  The US is fortunate to have a strong collection of professional organizations--AAM, AAMD, AASLH and state and regional associations.  But in many places in the world,  the ICOM national committee might be the sole functioning professional organization.  In the same way that many US museums look to AAM for standards and guidance, so do museums around the world look to ICOM.

There are 119 National Committees and 30 International Committees, along with 6 Regional Alliances and a number of affiliated organizations.  There is an Executive Committee and a Secretariat, which is based in Paris.  Voting is done, not by members, but by these committees, alliances, and affiliates.  National committees have the most votes, but, in American terms, it's like the Senate, not the House, with each country having the same number of votes.  As I was in Kyoto representing the International Coalition of Sites of Conscience, an affiliate, I was able to cast two votes. 

If you're a working professional or a student--you can become an ICOM member (link for US membership)-and participate in any international committee.  It's a great way to connect with colleagues around the world and, as it happens, an ICOM membership gets you into almost any museum in the world for free.   So the "them" is in fact us, if you choose to participate. The conference itself is cheaper than many US conferences. From my perspective, even before I began working for the Coalition, I found it extremely valuable to learn from colleagues around the world--particularly as the US museum system is quite distinct from most other places.  ICOM plenary sessions took on important issues:  climate change and sustainability and decolonization.  It's important that these discussions take place with colleagues from around the world able to participate.  Dozens of international committee sessions also explored a wide range of issues.

The Definition
But now, to the proposed new definition and the debate around it. For a comprehensive look at coverage of the definition process, thanks to Anna Marras and Ana Carvalho for gathering all the press coverage and discussion into one place.  It keeps growing, so check it out!

During the week, a plenary session was held when those on the definition-writing committee (Museum Definition, Prospects and Potentials Committee) spoke in favor of adopting the definition and space was also given to those who were opposed.  The new definition proposed was:

Museums are democratising, inclusive and polyphonic spaces for critical dialogue about the pasts and the futures. Acknowledging and addressing the conflicts and challenges of the present, they hold artefacts and specimens in trust for society, safeguard diverse memories for future generations and guarantee equal rights and equal access to heritage for all people. 

Museums are not for profit. They are participatory and transparent, and work in active partnership with and for diverse communities to collect, preserve, research, interpret, exhibit, and enhance understandings of the world, aiming to contribute to human dignity and social justice, global equality and planetary wellbeing.

And the current definition, adopted in 2007:

A museum is a non-profit, permanent institution in the service of society and its development, open to the public, which acquires, conserves, researches, communicates and exhibits the tangible and intangible heritage of humanity and its environment for the purposes of education, study and enjoyment.

Full disclosure:  as a representative of the International Coalition of Sites of Conscience, an affiliated organization, I was prepared to vote for the definition.  I considered it too long and not straightforward enough, but I believe in the ideas it puts forward.  However, through a series of  maneuvers, not clear to most of us in the room, the vote on the definition was postponed, with 70% voting for postponement.

From my perspective, objections to the new definition vote fell into four categories:

1.  Process
Although this was described as the most open process ever at ICOM,  many national and international committees felt there was not adequate time to consult with members before the vote.  It's important to note, that as far as I know, voting delegates were not bound by the consultations with their members, if they happened.  ICOFOM, the international committee focused on museology, took initiative and held a series of roundtables about the museum definition.  The summaries are here, but notably, the roundtables were unevenly distributed around the globe (heavily weighted towards Europe) and the approaches were varied. 

I'm not sure what the process should be going forward, but I do know that if it is to be a global definition, then the conversation needs to be global.  The vast majority of those speaking in the General Assembly were white Europeans or Americans.  A more inclusive format needs to be developed and more voices in the conversation. 

2.  Aspiration or definition?  (plus wording)
Do we need a definition?  Is this too wordy?  Who even uses the word polyphonic?  Are museums really this?  Is this an aspiration rather than a definition?  Some were concerned that the word education was not included, for instance, although to me, it is embedded in the entire definition. I think a definition can be helpful, but I also think that all of you who are doing the work towards real change in our field will keep doing that work no matter what. A definition may or may not matter to you, as you work with communities.  But imagine that it might matter to those who are just starting this work, in places where the work of social change is not yet accepted as an effort of museums (that might be specific museums or it might be entire nations).

3.  Impact
There were concerns that the ICOM definition is embedded in law in some nations and that a changing definition (for instance, the removal of the word 'permanent') would have critical repercussions.  Moving forward, there needs to be clear and substantive analysis of this, and at the same time, ICOM should be prepared to provide advocacy tools and training for countries where this might be an issue.

4.  Fear
Although these objections were sometimes couched in the language of the items above, it seemed pretty clear that some of the objections came from those who were afraid of change, afraid of surrendering their institutional power, afraid that museums were becoming too ideological.  Of course, museums have always been ideological.  In Time magazine, Jette Sandahl, chair of the committee, commented, “We need to work with relevance into the context we live in, and this certainly makes that clearer. There is no apolitical space or point of view. Museums are always political.”   I remain hopeful that fear will not win the day.

Is the Controversy Bad for Museums?
I think the press coverage is great.  I don't think it makes us look silly or divided.  I think it makes us look like a field that is thinking deeply about the work we do.  It's hard work and I'm happy to see us doing it. I'm impatient with those who fear this could divide the field permanently.  In my work at Sites of Conscience, I see people coming together in reconciliation over far more difficult, life-changing issues than a museum definition.  Surely we can do the same.

What's Next?
I assume the ICOM leadership and staff have barely had a moment to take a breath since the end of the conference.  So we don't know what's next, but it's my hope that whatever next is truly a global conversation, and that the traditional European powers of ICOM step back and provide some additional space for other voices.  Together, we can move museums into the 21st century--and not a moment too soon.

Thanks LaTanya Autry and Mike Murawski, creators of  #museumsarenotneutral for providing inspiration--and a T-shirt to wear the day of the definition vote (or non-vote).

2017's Baker's Dozen of Memorable Museum Experiences

Like 2016, 2017 brought me many memorable museum experiences--that's memorable in a good way. Of course, there were a couple that were memorable in the "oh, no" kind of way, but in a spirit of generosity, here's what I saw, experienced and felt last year that I find myself sharing with friends and colleagues. As I went through selecting photos, I realized there were many more places I could have included on this list. It's encouraging to see how many museums and historic sites are working hard to push boundaries, to think more deeply.

American-Swedish Institute, Minneapolis, MN
Last January, I spent a few days at the American Swedish Institute, helping them jumpstart an interpretive planning process.  This wasn't necessarily memorable because of exhibits I saw, but rather because of the commitment of board, staff leadership and staff.  They embraced new ideas, did all their advance reading (!) and took a memorable field trip off to a local global market to see what they could learn. They're a great example of building a learning culture inside a museum, for staff, not just for visitors.

Torbay History House, Torbay, Newfoundland, Canada
A tiny museum-to-be in Newfoundland, Canada reminded me of the vital place museums can play in communities. I conducted focus groups last winter with students, scouts, parents at the library and the community at large. Everyone had ideas for exhibits, programs, and ways to use a new building for the museum. When the plans had their public meeting this fall, it was one of the liveliest, in the very best way, discussions.  "Could we do this?"  "Oh, I like that," "What will happen here?"  A case study for how opening up a planning process from the start can lead to greater buy-in.

Museum of European Cultures, Berlin, Germany
German colleague and friend Katrin Hieke met me in Berlin for a whirlwind weekend of museum-going. I envisioned the Museum of European Cultures as a dusty place, but far from it.  We took a Tandem (two languages, but actually closer to four) tour with a curator and a refugee artist of the exhibit da Heim: Glances into Fugitive Lives. Read my full post to understand why it was so meaningful, important, and deeply emotional.  It was the kind of exhibit and community collaboration I wish we could all strive for.

Creativity Workshop with local museums, Lutsk, Ukraine
This spring, Rainey Tisdale and I made a week-long, fast-paced trip to several Ukrainian cities to celebrate the Ukrainian publication of Creativity in Museum Practice.  As always, it was great to see friends and colleagues, but the time I particularly remember is at a museum in Lutsk, in western Ukraine, where museum workers and students jammed into a too-small room as enthusiastic workshop participants to learn how to build their own creative practice.  Their team efforts on developing exhibits on some social aspect of Soviet life, for an audience of teenagers, were judged by university students.  The combination of laughter and nostalgia combined with remembered fears and uncertainty was quite astonishing (and surprising to our Ukrainian colleagues as well). My relationship with Ukraine now goes back 8  years, and I continue to appreciate colleagues' progress in still-challenging times. A reminder that change is always possible.

Kigali and Murambi Genocide Memorials, Rwanda
I think about the day of these visits often. Rwanda is a spectacularly beautiful country and so the 1994 genocide seems almost unimaginable.  They tell a recent, still unresolved story, and in both cases, also serve as the final resting place of thousands of Rwandans killed by their neighbors. It challenged my ability to do my work (how can I make a real difference?) but at the same time, reinforced the importance of the work of Coalition members, and that a starting point for real change is empathy.

This Ever New Self: Thoreau and His Journal exhibit at Morgan Library, New York, NY
In this exhibit, words, rightly so, took center stage.  Thoreau's words felt fully contemporary.  The thoughtful design and curation really made the objects, including those journals, matter.  I found deep resonance in his words with my work at the International Coalition of Sites of Conscience this year.

Tea Plantation Workers Museum, Kandy, Sri Lanka
This museum is up a long, long way into the Sri Lankan highlands, deep into the tea plantations. One of the great gifts of my travel, particularly this year, is to learn about histories I knew nothing about. The Tea Workers story is one of colonialism, of identity, of nationalism, of persistence, and of family--and I found it all in this tiny museum.  The lesson from here?  Seek out tiny museums to learn about the people and places you're in--go beyond being just a tourist visiting the hot spots.

Casa Azul, the Frida Kahlo Museum, Mexico City
A number of years ago, I heard someone from this museum speak at an AAM meeting, and I've been interested in going ever since I got the chance. It was worth the wait and lived up to my expectations. First, it's a really beautiful and spectacular place, full of amazing objects that provide deep sense of Kahlo and her work; second, we visited on Day of the Dead weekend, so it was even  more thrilling with a huge altar installation; third, the way the house integrates inside and outside felt calm, even on a crowded day.  And lastly, the visit also included a fascinating exhibition on Kahlo's clothes tocusing on how she used clothing to both hide and step forward.

Museum of Popular Art, Mexico City
I actually didn't get to see very much of this museum, as we were only at a reception there. But there was a spectacular addition to the reception:  illuminated walking hand-made giant creatures making their way through the park to the museum. I had done a session on getting out of your comfort zone at the CAMOC conference, inspired by Annemarie de Wildt's ever-active Facebook page; and she demonstrated the value of that notion immediately, as she waded into great conversations in bits of English, Spanish and French, with the makers.  Creativity and curiosity flourished together in a memorable evening.  How can you inspire the same in your visitors to get them outside their comfort zones?

Gemeentemuseum Den Haag (Municipal Museum), the Hague, the Netherlands
I approach technology in museums with some skepticism.  I know, that's a blanket statement, but I want to technology to be a tool, not the means, and that doesn't happen often enough.  My dear friend Irina Leonenko, her son Nikolai, and I bicycled off to this museum and I found a total surprise. In the museum's Wonderkammer you receive an iPad to explore a whole series of rooms, answering clues and collecting objects.

Several things I really liked: the tablet was just the activator and each room encouraged different kinds of learning and participation.  We danced in time to a Mondrian painting, learned about glass making and identified tools, listened to tales of dragons and digitally put ourselves in historic costume.  But then, in a way hard to explain, we found ourselves in the large center gallery space, with tiny objects, and we used the objects we'd collected to design our own exhibition and digitally, our tiny selves entered the gallery, cut a ribbon and enjoyed the space.  I can imagine going back again and again, as every time the experience would be different.

We Have a Dream exhibition, Nieuwe Kerk, Amsterdam, the Netherlands
It was pouring rain in Amsterdam, and as I crossed a street, I saw giant images of Gandhi, Mandela and Martin Luther King.  Curious (and wet), I ducked into the Nieuwe Kirk, a spectacular space, to find an exhibit that looked at three giant figures of the 20th century.  The exhibit had few objects (although I appreciated Gandhi's bicycle in this cycling city) but the graphics, including text, were eye-catching and direct. The exhibit encouraged us to think about these men as not just historical figures, but as people who continue to inspire, even including contemporary heirs, such as the Black Lives Matter movement.

Terezín Memorial, Terezín, Czech Republic
Terezín is one of the founding members of the International Coalition of Sites of Conscience and was the site of our 2017 European members meeting so the site and the chance to meet our members are inextricably linked.  The entire site represents layers and layers of history--from an 18th century fort to a "model" detention camp for the Nazis to a museum and almost uninhabited town today.  The education staff at Memorial have created a number of programs for young people, for whom Nazism is distant history, to help them understand that those lessons carry forward to today.  We all felt warmly welcomed by all the staff, despite the site's cold and chilling history. It didn't require much imagination to see where those railroad tracks led; but at the same time, the creative spirit of those in the camp was very much in evidence.  The lesson for me here?  Embrace the complications.

Loja das Conservas, Lisbon, Portugal My last one is not actually a museum, but provided the best kind of museum-like experience.  Loja das Conservas is a store created by the canned fish association of Portugal and selling only canned  fish (conservas). If you're like me, white tuna in water is your idea of canned fish, you're in for a surprise.  But what made it like a museum?  Great graphics, and interpretive labels explaining each producer's work and history. We had a chance to sit down with a glass of wine and sample different products (as part of a great Context travel walk), with a very helpful staff member who explained the different types, and even got our non-fish eater to try a bit! I felt welcomed, had a great time,  learned something, and brought souvenirs home.  Just like a museum, right?

That was my year!  A shout-out to ICOM because my membership card provided free admission to many of these places.  I'm looking forward to another year full of big challenges, thoughtful museums, and incredible colleagues.  Stay tuned.

Traditions Mashup: Mexico City

I've just returned from last week in Mexico City, participating in the CAMOC conference.  CAMOC is the ICOM committee devoted to city museums, so fittingly we were in an incredible city at an incredible time of year.  The city's Day of the Dead celebrations were a mashup of old, new, borrowed, silly, and deeply meaningful.

If you saw the James Bond film Spectre you saw a giant Day of the Dead parade (above) making its way through Mexico City.  But the funny thing--this parade was for the movie only.  But then the city government and the tourism bureau decided everyone might enjoy a parade--not a traditional part of usually family-centered Day of the Day, and this year, we got to see the second annual edition.

On last Saturday, we wrapped up the afternoon sessions, and headed off to Zocalo, the city's main square in front of the cathedral and found ourselves squeezed ten deep, awaiting the parade.  It didn't seem much of a tourist attraction, as most of the people around us were local. 

Finally a huge roar goes up from the crowd as the start of the parade rounds the corner.  In the historical center, the earthquake's effects were scarcely visible.  But the parade began with a huge fist made of piled up hardhats, followed by a delegation of rescue workers and an ambulance.  A parade, originally for James Bond, and then promoted as tourism, became the city's own, as locals cheered in honor of rescuers and victims.

The parade had everything--everything skeletal:  skeletal marching bands, skeletal revolutionaries, beauty queens with skull faces waving from their floats...and many of the watchers were equally fabulous in their appearance. One night, a spectacular parade of lighted figures made their way through the park and into the Museo de Arte Populare, created by an enthusiastic crew of makers eager to share their work.

But Day of the Dead goes on for days, and the mash-ups continue. American-style trick or treating has made its way into the holiday, and one night the center was filled with families trick-or-treating in all the stories, with candy happily handed out. 

Alters--ofrendas--were everywhere.  At Casa Azul, Frida Kahlo's house, a enormous one was dedicated to her; while at a monastery turned museum, a fantastical two-room offering was in honor of Manuel Parra, a renowed Mexican architect.  Nearby, in a shop, a altar honored a woman historian, and in another part of the city, we ate in a small restaurant where the patriarch of the family was honored on a fireplace mantel.  Through make-up, through costumes, through decorations--everyone got a chance to share their creativity.  At our hotel, the staff each decorated a skeleton figure and the guests all got a chance to vote. 

What do I think all this mashup of traditions old and new has to do with museums?  First, a reminder that surrendering control is a good thing.  Holding on to those precious traditions and not allowing them to breathe and grow can't be a good thing.   And second, these days in Mexico City were abundant evidence of the creative spirit of this community.  We saw original altars in every museum visited, reflecting the spirit of each place, and making each museum connected more to the larger city. How can you inspire the best creative efforts of your city, town or place?

Pondering Museum Futures: Honest Questions

I've been lucky enough to have many great conversations about museums in three different countries over beer, vodka and prosecco, with my friend and colleague Katrin Hieke from Germany. That's why I'm so pleased to share this guest post with her observations, thoughts and questions about a Swiss museum conference. The idea of questions is an intriguing conference theme, and as you'll see below, the organizers worked hard to embed it all the way through.  We hope you end up with some questions of your own!

At the end of last month I had the pleasure to attend the annual congress of the Swiss Museum Association & ICOM Switzerland on Museum Future(s). It resonated a lot with me and stirred up quite a few questions. Maybe that was not only because the museum field seems to be very much on the move (has it ever not be, I wonder?), but so am I -- reconsidering my own professional future having nearly finished my long ongoing dissertation project. And since future(s) of all kinds are a constant thread in Linda’s and my discussions, it seemed appropriate to write here, and to pass on my thoughts and questions.

Thinking about the future(s) of museums, you might say, is nothing new. Your are right. We all do it in a way when we set the course for the next years in programming, when a new board takes up its work or we compile financing plans. And there are, among others, change-makers like Jasper Visser and The Museum of the Future blog, or the AAM’s Center for the Future of Museums, whose thinkings are devoted to the future(s) on a regular basis.  However, in terms of museum conferences in Europe, it was the first that took on this topic in general and it seemed utterly appropriate to do this on neutral, Swiss ground.  

It all starts with questions
I loved how the whole conference was set up around questions. Questions cards were distributed on registration by mail long before the conference, and at the conference itself, on coffee tables and in the delegates bags. Speakers were asked a crisp question about the future(s) of their museum or museums in general first, before they presented. A whole booklet about the conference topic, published some weeks before and as a result of a workshop, comprises pages and pages of questions - some easy, some tough - about the status quo of your museum, how you assess this, what you wish for and where you might see room for improvement. Some of my favourites include:

• What is your greatest weakness in terms of content, and how did it evolve?
• Which offers with societal impact would you like to have in 20 years?
• Do you actively ask your audience for feedback?
• Would you be willing to run exhibitions and events solely for reasons of revenue increase?
• How does the effort for communication relate to the one for content?
• What is the role of individual, what of collaborative working?
• Which image do you have of your own institution regarding its social and cultural relevance? Are you a preserver? A content provider? A stimulator of discourse? An opinion maker? A changer?

I believe that change starts with honest questioning, aloud or to yourself, and an open conversation; it continues with getting out of your comfort zone, scrutinizing what your are doing and why you are doing it, and if it's still in line with your ideas; it's about dreaming of where you want to go and some risk taking in leaving your own tracks in thinking and doing.

The whole setup of the conference acknowledged that there is no simple answer, and not the  one right answer for all museums. But rather very individual solutions, futures in plural, which requires knowing the individuality of your museum, first. And it is work. Or, as Isabelle Chassot, director at the Swiss Federal Office of Culture, put it: Museums can't be updated like an app; their future(s) need to be negotiated with society and politics in a long, but rewarding process.

Future is not (only) about technology

Future scenarios are often equated with technological progress, but that's only one side of it. The concept discussed at the conference aimed at a broad mindset, as the sample questions above indicate. Of course, questions about the future(s) of museums can not do without tackling issues like digitalisation. But globalisation, changes in demography, individualisation, urbanisation, economization, and flexibilisation -- trends identified by futurologists -- play an equally important part. And they create much tension, e.g. between programming for content and/or audiences; between niche and/or mainstream, between the amateur and/or professional and so on.

We have the choice

One of the very best parts about the conference was the emphasis on the “we”. The full title of the conference read: Museum future(s): We have the choice. It places the responsibility, but also the obligation, into the hands of us, the museum professionals. It reminds us that there are different paths and options to be considered. And that the future is not exclusively determined from outside, but that instead we should not give it out of our hands and start the shaping the future today. This empowerment is remarkable especially in German speaking countries, where it is quite common to delegate responsibility and action to political institutions and public authorities as the main financiers of museums. Yes, they do have the power to influence the course, but they are certainly not the strongest force, if we don’t let them. So the message here is let's not get pulled, but rather let's push things forward ourselves.

The hard way from theory to practice

The morning of the first conference day was devoted to magnificent, comprehensive, mostly provocative and rather theoretical reflections on the general positioning of the museums of the future as well as the visions of the future in previous centuries and what we could learn from this for today. Pascal Griener from the University of Neuenburg reminded us to be aware of the ideological residues stemming from 19th century when discussing current and future museum concepts. Zeev Gourarier, director of the MUCEM, named the importance of objects and collections, interdisciplinary approaches and a return to enchantment as keys to museum futures.

The afternoon sessions were meant to be devoted to deeper dives and to move on to the practical side of things. However, these got stuck more or less in the contemporary. The session on content and audience comprised descriptions of current education projects and stood pretty much clear of the actual topic of the conference, the future, for which subjects like the prerogative of interpretation must be discussed.

What makes it so difficult to take a look beyond now and some general plans for the future? What does it need, in terms of institutional frameworks and/or personal requirements? How can the many good questions raised at the conference and in the booklet be a starting point for active considerations - and maybe change?

Basil Rogger from the Zurich University of the Arts and author of the booklet, believes that we need to develop a culture of dealing with the future: we need to take care, to be persistent, to have fun, to find ease, and to actually shape the future and have the belief to do so.

Do you agree? What does it take to be a visionary these days, especially in the face of wearing daily business and given that the institution concerned is in itself devoted to the past? 

  

Take it further
If you can read one of Switzerland’s languages (German, French or Italian) I highly recommend downloading the booklet ‘Museum Futures’ by the Swiss Museum Association, which is full of food for thought and many more questions than the ones above. 

Milan-Bound: Exploring the Cultural Landscape

In a few days, I'm headed to my first-ever ICOM triennal conference, with the theme of Museums and Cultural Landscapes, joining thousands of museum colleagues from around the world in Milan, Italy. For most American museum professionals, ICOM is a bit out of our professional networks, but thanks to my German colleague Katrin Hieke, it entered my view in a more substantive way when we combined forces with two other colleagues to cover, in social media, the tri-national Museums and Politics conference in Russia in 2014.  I'm excited to expand my networks and meet and learn from colleagues around the world over the course of a week.

ICOM is organized by interest committees and I'll be presenting in two of them.  With Rainey Tisdale, I'll be talking about the Creative Cultural Landscape in the CAMOC section--that's the Committee for the Collections and Activities of Museums of Cities.  We'll be focusing on the way that museums can be players in building cities' creative capital.

I'll also be presenting a talk entitled, "Terra Incognita: Museums Studies Students and the Global Museum Landscape,"  at ICTOP, the International Committee for the Training of Personnel.  This talk is inspired by the course I taught last fall online for the Johns Hopkins University Museum Studies Program, where students worked with five museums from around the world to develop community engagement projects.  I'm curious about how we, particularly Americans,  can expand our understanding of museums around the world as a way of enhancing our own practice.

Plus, trying to get to as many other sessions as possible, meeting colleagues from around the world, recruiting new museum partners for this fall's course, exploring Milan's architecture and museums, and having an aperitivo or two.  I'll be tweeting and instagramming as @lindabnorris, from July 3-10, so if you want to see what's up, find me there!  If you're in Milan, I'd love to meet you and learn about what you do...so please be in touch for that aperitivo (to get you thinking, below, at Bar Basso).

What Do You Do When You Disagree with a Speaker?

As anyone who knows me personally knows, I'm generally not reluctant to speak out in disagreement. But this post is about a time recently when I didn't, and I continue to regret it.  The recent Museums and Politics conference was held at a very challenging time for many people and nations.  The Russian government's actions in Ukraine, including both Crimea and the Donbass,  have dismayed many, including me. Thousands have lost their lives in Eastern Ukraine in the continuing conflict.  The governments of the United States and Germany (along with the European Union), the other conference co-sponsors, have imposed sanctions on Russia; but most of those who came to the conference came with the intention of listening and learning.  It was a hard choice for me to come because ICOM Ukraine requested a boycott,  but I did, with the same motivation--to listen and learn.  In general, speakers and audience members were respectful, even of viewpoints that differed greatly from our own. For a full conference roundup, check out our conference blog.

However, one speaker embarked on a diatribe that I did not respond to and I should have; I wished I had had the courage in the moment to step forward with questions and clarifications.  So I will respond here--that's the advantage of having my own blog, I suppose.  Sergey Pushkarev, director of the Association of Preserves and Museums in Crimea gave a talk so filled with hate and vitriol that I was astounded.  I'm relying here on my own notes from the simultaneous English translation and a colleague's notes from the German version.  His accepted session proposal was to be about tourism in Crimea, a topic of critical importance to museums there.  His topic published in the schedule in Yekaterinburg was about the state of Crimean museums now: also potentially a topic of interest. However, his talk could be be described as a tirade against the current Ukrainian government and its people.

He shouted his way through a talk that included the highly debatable point that, although fifty percent of Crimeans voted to join Russia, he personally was sure that 100% of people were in favor of it--and even more directly, that 90% of museum staff in Crimea are pro-Russian. As a corrective example, I'll just point to the recent search and closure of the Meijlis, the Crimean Tatar Parliament, in Simferopol. It's crystal clear that at least 12% of Crimea, the Crimean Tatar population, did not support the takeover in any way.  And also very clear that it's dangerous in Crimea these days to support Ukraine.

He then accused the Ukrainian government of the misuse of funds for museums, but neglected to mention that this kind of corruption was exactly what led to Maidan and the ouster of President Yanukovych.  He stated that Maidan was nothing more than an effort by the West to sever the ties of the Slavonic people:  something I know that would be a surprise to those of you who stood on Maidan. He did state, correctly, that museums in Ukraine supported the anti-Russian campaign, although I expect those museums would describe it as a campaign for dignity, human rights, and a just society rather than an anti-Russian campaign.

Not surprisingly, he addressed the issue of Crimean artifacts on loan to a museum in Amsterdam, having said a letter was sent requesting their return.  As I understand it, some of those objects have already been returned to Ukraine, as they were, and continue to be, state property.  Negotiations for the remaining artifacts are ongoing.  He also assured the audience that no objects would be removed from Crimea to Russia.

He accused Blue Shield Ukraine of being active on Maidan, but not caring for what was happening to museums in eastern Ukraine, particularly mentioning the local history museum in Donetsk.  I've actually been to that museum (and I bet he hasn't).  Its destruction is heart-breaking, particularly since it's been very hard to get information and clear documentation because the area surrounding the museum is still controlled by separatists.  However, Ukrainian museums and the Ministry of Culture are supporting their colleagues and the museum there in whatever possible ways given the situation and the extremely limited resources of Ukraine's current government.  Museums in Kyiv have offered working space for those colleagues who have left the Donbass and Kyiv museums are helping to raise funds for the eventual repair of those museums damaged by the conflict.  I believe the Ministry has begun holding some disaster preparedness sessions and Blue Shield is making significant attempts to learn about the state of all endangered museums and cultural sites in Ukraine.

He ran over time, had to be interrupted by the moderator, and so there was no time for questions. As I wrote at the beginning of the post,  I wish now I had not made the decision to be a good guest, but rather that I had stepped forward with questions, despite the press of time.  To Mr. Pushkarev,  I hope next time you present facts rather than polemics.   To my Ukrainian colleagues and friends, my apologies, my support,  and the small amends of this post.

Image:  Chufut Kale, from a visit to Crimea in 2011.

Update: Disaster Plans for People

I wanted to update my last post about disaster plans for people as I've had great emails, great comments here, and great conversation threads on both ICOM and AAM LinkedIn groups.  All you stimulated additional thinking and clarity on my part, helping to shape my upcoming presentation.  Here's a bit of how my thinking has evolved, thanks to you.

Definitions:  Crisis or disaster?  Most often it appears, we take disaster to mean a natural disaster and there were many responses related to that.  There are also, however, what Cathy Stanton thoughtfully called in her comment "slow emergencies (with a nod to James Kunstler's "long emergency"). Coincidentally, Gretchen Jennings wrote about museums' role in the United States' current national crisis of the influx of young, undocumented children crossing the border.  I now think crisis is a better term for my intentions.  Definitions #2:  People or our people?  Several commenters took my emphasis on people to mean disaster plans that include plans for how people should act during a crisis at a museum such as evacuation during a fire.  Lots of museums have that.  It appears that community is a clearer, broader term for my intended group.

Planning:  Lots of commenters mentioned traditional disaster plans but several of you mentioned that this kind of active community engagement should be embedded in a museum's DNA: in their mission, in their planning processes, in every aspect of our work. Several of you reminded us of the importance of networking with all other elements of our community in thinking about how we can be of help. Then it's easy to respond.  A plan might not be flexible enough, as disasters or crises are hard to predict, but, as Sally Yerkovich wrote in a Linkedin comment,

If a museum truly thinks about the needs of its community on an ongoing basis, a response might come naturally. For example, in NYC on 9/11 some museums like the Tenement Museum that remained opened welcomed people fleeing from lower Manhattan. In nearby Newark, the Historical Society opened its doors and provided coffee, a place to gather, watch TV and be with others. Both institutions saw themselves as part of the social fabric of their neighborhood and, thus, immediately considered the needs of their neighbors. Would a plan have helped here?

And interestingly, in one email, a colleague took some museums to task, "I was very annoyed at that response 'we have no time for that.' That museum deserves the same response from its community when the museum is in need. "  

Inspiring Examples:  Many of you shared great, inspiring examples from around the world, ranging from the simple act of offering space or a hot lunch to the much more complex.

Katie Boardman shared this from Tom Reitz in Waterloo, Ontario:

The Museum has been listed as a cooling centre in the past ... which means that if the temperature soars during the summer, and people in the community need a place to go that's cool because they don't have air conditioning, they can come to the museum during our regular business hours - the museum has air conditioning. This isn't built into our emergency plan - but now that I think about it, maybe it should.

An anonymous Vermonter wrote,

The museum's visitor center acted as a makeshift shelter for some residents who were stranded from their homes due to flooded roads. I was away the weekend that the flooding happened and could not return until three weeks later because of closed roads. When I did return, I could not believe the devastation in the community. The museum was fine but the people were not. The director had attended local community meetings with Red Cross and National Guard officials and the community had come together with the museum as the hub.

Lise Summers from Western Australia alerted me to the quite amazing Tsunami Debris History Project of the British Columbia Maritime Museum, aimed at linking personal belongings that have made their way across the Pacific with their owners--and I'll be tracking down similar efforts in Japan that she mentioned.  Bronwyn Grant from New Zealand shared the various ways in which Christchurch museums were working with their communities as they recover from earthquakes in 2010 and 2011: this ranges from getting art out into public places, serving as Civil Defence headquarters, and starting a Quake Story Museum.

And about those long emergencies, what are we doing?  These responses were fewer, although of course I've seen science museums addressing the issue of climate change.  How can we engage our communities in thinking about long term social change and justice?  What kinds of authority do we have and what kinds are we willing, as institutions, to surrender?  Keep your great comments and observations coming and thanks to all who've already contributed to the conversation.

Images:  Top:  motorcycle washed ashore in Canada from Tsunami Debris History Project; center: Vermont flooding.