Mid-Revolution: Ukrainian Museum Updates

As most of the world now knows, the situation in Ukraine has been rapidly changing.  Last week's shocking death toll has led to the disappearance of the President and other ministers, warrants for their arrest, and a new government in the making, but the situation still appears unstable.  As I’ve written and shared posts by others about museums’ reaction to the revolution there, I wanted to share a few updates on museum-related issues.  

In honor of the fallen heroes of Maidan,  Ukrainian museums announced the cancellation of all activities until the end of February, but continued to open their exhibition halls.

Although the collections of the Museum of the City of Kyiv were secure when Ukrainian House was occupied by protestors, evidently after protestors vacated the building the riot police broke into collections storage.  Some objects are missing and damaged, full details are not known.  It's also suspected that the inspection of former government officials houses will reveal objects, from icons to rare books, that have been stolen from museum collections.

The Minister of Culture has been dismissed by Parliament; and a group of artists, activists, and museum professionals have already gathered to propose the qualifications for new candidates and develop of strategies of arts and cultural expression and development, hopefully leading to the  and transformation of the existing system of management of culture. Also this group, the Assembly of Art Professionals is working over legal mechanism and practical  tools to control and influence the ministry of culture activities in the future.

A homemade catapult used by the protestors now bears a sign telling passersby that it is under the protection of the National Museum of Art and will become a part of the collection.  As mentioned in an earlier post, the Ivan Honchar Museum has  started collecting objects, memories and stories.  They  have succeeded in obtaining many important artifacts including an icon painting from the center of Maidan, and  helmets, shields, paintings, posters,  painted bits, gas masks and more.  This initiative was supported by a few other institutions including NGOs, and now the museum staff are working systematically over the project “Museum of Maidan."   

Various other museum and exhibit proposals are being announced, including the idea of an exhibit of Maidan’s doctors and medics at the National Museum of Medicine in Kyiv.  The museum has issued a call for object, images and stories.  

Blue Shield Ukraine was founded last week to ensure the preservation of museums and cultural objects in times of emergency.  This has included a plea for the care of some of the dozens of Lenin statues toppled over the last weeks, as some are listed as monuments of national significance.

One of many proposals for the use of former President Yanukovych’s lavish mansion, private zoo, and golf course, is for a Museum of Corruption. (from the photographs, it could also be the Museum of Bad Taste).   Evidently this museum’s archives could also be extensive as the paper documentation on corrupt purchases and payoffs was also found there.  Journalists, in a unique effort, have banded together to save these papers and eventually, provide a full reporting of how unbelievable sums of money were looted and spent.

Ukraine's story of this revolution is far from finished, but it's been inspiring to see my friends and colleagues move from the barricades to directly to saving important materials and considering big, structural changes in the way museums and culture work.  I'll keep you posted.

Note:  I've not been successful in finding a credit for the photo in this post, but would be happy to add it if informed.

No Bells and Whistles Needed: The Rijksmuseum

Last week I had the chance to visit the Rijksmuseum in its newly restored  and re-opened, glory.  I’d been aware of their great website,  Rijkstudio,making hi-res images available for free, and encouraging people to make imaginative, creative re-use of images from their collection.  So in my head, perhaps, I assumed that technology would be a key part of the visitor experience at the museum itself.

And to my surprise, I discovered exactly the opposite.   There was an audio tour, which I did not take, but what really shined through was the idea that museums are places of discovery, but many of us need a bit of help in our discovery.  We might not need a fully immersive, high tech experience, just a bit of knowledge to start our journey.

The Rijksmuseum provides a low-tech experience, but it's clear that there was a substantial investment in creating the most thoughtful experience possible.  From a visitor perspective, it seems the investment was in thinking, in people time, rather than hardware.  In conversation with another Dutch colleague,  he thought that the museum considers its website as a way to reach people outside of the museum;  but that the experience at the museum needed to be entirely different--a great lesson as we plan new experiences and exhibits.

I saw this attention to detail--to the visitor experience-- in a number of different ways.  First, the introductory room labels are so well written, in both Dutch and English.  They are clear, in the active voice, brief, and informative, giving a “so what?” clarity to each group of objects.  They provide, in effect, the 101 explanation of the topic at hand.

And then, particularly in the Gallery of Honour,  I was amazed at how many people were using the laminated handouts available.  These kinds of handouts exist in many museums—but I have never seen so many people using them.  What made them work?  They were not just repetition of label text, but they were really about looking at the work of art.  At the top of the post and below, are all kinds of people using the handouts.  I saw one family, Italian speakers, using the handouts so they worked even without understanding the written words.  I really liked that they encouraged you to look closely and even to compare paintings next to each other.   They weren't jargon-filled in any way.

I also trailed around several school groups and I also discovered that they took an approach that really encouraged curiousity, without lots of bells and whistles and with a kind of informality that made students feel at home.  Almost every student in every school group had a phone and was taking pictures, and as a group of students moved to a new location, there was a small bit of time permitted for that picture taking (even selfies in front of The Night Watch) and then, down to conversation.   Rather than forbidding photos, this meant that students created memories, but also found time to listen.  Each school docent had a big shoulder box of objects that they also carried--I didn't come across any of them in use, but as you can tell from the image below, they were simple things.

I found the Rijksmuseum a refreshing reminder that I need to bring this same kind of clear-eyed passion and focus on the visitor to all my work with the kind of confidence I saw embodied here. And of course, amidst the 375 million euro renovation, a clear demonstration of, as my colleague Anne Ackerson taught me, "Ideas don't cost money." Plus, as a bonus, what other museum can you ride your bike through!

Upcoming: Broken Relationships and Creativity in Amsterdam

Just in time for Valentine's Day! Uncataloged readers are invited to join Annemarie de Wildt, curator of  the current Amsterdam version of the Museum of Broken Relationships at the Oude Kirk,  and I for a walk-through of the exhibition followed by drinks and conversation about museums and creative practice on Monday,  February 17.

I'm really looking forward to seeing this exhibit and will be fascinated to see what the public call resulted in, and how Annemarie put it together.   And I hope, so will you!  Meet us at the entrance of Oude Kirk at 4:00, and I'll soon post where you can meet us for a drink later.

It's a great chance to dive into the creative work of developing an exhibition, engaging communities in storytelling, and of course, a chance to meet and share with colleagues.  Hope to see you there!

Upcoming: Creative Practice Meet-Up in Florence

Come meet me and hear about Creativity in Museum Practice at an informal meet-up at the Palazzo Strozzi on Tuesday, February 11 at 18:30 (Sala Ferri, Palazzo Strozzi, Piazza Strozzi 1, Florence, Italy)   I'll share some tips on creative practice, hopefully useful no matter your work in a museum or elsewhere,  a chance to learn from all of  you, and the opportunity to connect with other creative colleagues over an aperitivo.

The Strozzi's programs and exhibits are incredible examples of creative practice, from family kits to audience-friendly labels,  to contemporary art on issues of concern to the city, so I'm thrilled to join all of you at such a fascinating place.  Hope to see you there!

Practical Dreaming: 2014 Mentorships

I'm very pleased to announce my 2014 mentees, but first a bit about the process.  Although I had fewer applications than last year, the process didn't get any easier for me.  This year I had more people further along in their career, and my final two selections reflected that.  (Don't worry, emerging museum professionals,  I may try an experience restriction next year!)  This year, all of the applicants were women and they came from four countries, including the US,  and came from history, science, and art museums;  along with a independent professional or two.  My choices were framed around two issues:  one, if I thought I could be helpful, and two, if the questions posed were also questions I was interested in exploring.

I've been touched, this year as last, by the clarity, depth, seriousness and humor of the applicants.  And this year I got a bonus!  Amanda Gustin of Vermont didn't apply for the mentorship but she shared her own answers to my questions on her blog Amblering.  What's not to love about someone who impersonates an FBI agent as a child?

I can call up a dozen memories of imaginative play as a child - once, when a cousin of mine and I were grounded and stuck up in my bedroom for an afternoon, we snuck into my father's closet, dressed up in his suits, tied together bedsheets, shimmied out the second-story window, and circled back around to the front door, where we rang the doorbell and pretended to be government agents investigating cruelty toward the children living in the house. (I believe my mother laughed in our faces and sent us back up to my room.)

But on to this year's mentees:  Catherine Charlebois, Curator, Exhibitions and Collections at the Centre d'histoire de Montreal in Montreal, Canada, and Megan Wood, who begins her new position as Associate Vice President for Education and Visitor Experience at the Historic Ford Estates in Dearborn, Michigan this coming week.  They are each in transitions.  Catherine's museum is contemplating a major move and expansion and Megan of course, is embarking on a new job with new responsibilities and challenges.   And in both cases, they felt a professional voice outside their museum, might be a really helpful thing.  So I hope that's true, and here's some of the questions we'll be considering.  

Catherine's primary interests are in oral history and in exhibition development:

• Oral history in museums. I want to discuss every aspect of it, but especially its use in exhibitions.
• How to transform a museum to a participatory museum?
• Where to look for cutting-edge museum initiatives (in all fields)?
• Creating “user-friendly” museums
• Teamwork
• Inventive and/or unusual cross-disciplinary initiatives in museums 

And for Megan, the same combination of practicality and dreaming:

• How should I build and effective department? 
• Interpretive planning and long-range exhibit planning. including interpreting a historic property (and estate really) in a really new, dynamic, and engaging manner. 

I'm looking forward to our monthly conversations--and because each of the mentees will be contributing three blog posts over the course of 2014,  I hope our conversations will ripple out into your work as well.

And a few quick follow-ups from this process:

• I'm pleased to share that Alicia Akins, my mentee, is a Spring 2014 Createquity Fellow. You'll be able to check out more of her writing over there.
• It's been really lovely to hear how many of you have embraced the idea that forming your own Gang of Five can be useful in your career.   My own Gang continues to a source of inspiration, advice, and just plain fun.  If you haven't already, subscribe to our monthly e-newsletter, Take 5 for quick takes from us on everything from passion to leadership.
• There's amazing creativity in so many of us--I could see it in all the applications.  We're interested in spreading the creativity word, so please share your creative problems and solutions with us over at our Creativity in Museum practice website.   And the problems of leadership can be solved with some creative brainpower--that's being reinforced as I read Anne Ackerson and Joan Baldwin's book, Leadership Matters. Well worth a read, no matter where you are in your career.

Museum on the Frontline

My friend and colleague Olesya Ostrovska, an art expert in Kyiv, has graciously agreed to allow me to share this post, published last weekend, about current conditions at the National Art Museum of Ukraine, originally written as a post on Eurolution.doc Ukraine on Maidan, a Facebook page dedicated to sharing perspectives on current events in Ukraine "without cliche' or manipulations."  I know the museum well, having often visited met with colleagues, observed school programs and presented workshops there.  It's hard to believe, but as you can see in the photo above, the street protests are literally happening on the steps of the museum.  (Photo via ЄвроМайдан – EuroMaydanon on Facebook). 

Street fighting keeps on continuing in Kyiv, Ukraine. Not long ago, we wrote about “clashes of pro-Europe protesters with the police” but after the first protesters died of gunshots and torture the “clashes” turned into an all-out street war. The ‘battlefield’ is located meters away from the town’s prominent European Square and within a five minute walking distance from the Independence Sq. or “Maidan” – an epicenter of several month-long peaceful protests… peaceful until recently. Street war is going on in a generally safe city, which keeps on living its regular daily life. All is seemingly usual: people go to work, but, in their offices, many of them collect money for medications and warm socks for the protesters. People take rounds checking downtown pharmacies for first-aid supplies requested by Maidan doctors (appeals are posted on the Internet and passed along through social networks). Most pharmacies are short on bandages and first-aid stuff – demand significantly exceeds supply. 

Many people keep on coming to their offices located right in the hotspot of the street fights near that European square. One of places like this is the National Art Museum of Ukraine , the largest and the most respected art museum of the country. The riot police (Interior Troops of the Ministry of Interior of Ukraine) took their positions right at the doorstep of the Museum: “Molotov cocktails” hitting ground right next, stun grenades explosions - to which the museum workers have already become quite used – and black smoke billowing from burning car tire barricades hundred meters away… Maria Zadorojna, 38-year old museum director, has stayed in the museum for seven days in a row, from the first day of clashes when visitors had to be evacuated right through the police’s defensive formation. She considers that leaving the museum even at night is risky. Not because of her own safety. Because of the museum exhibits. Although the museum is officially closed, many Zadorojna’s colleagues spend all their time here as they are charged with keeping the museum exhibit collection safe: unique medieval icons, Ukrainian baroque paintings, avant-garde art of the early 20th century. Not later that a week ago, some masterpieces of the collection could be seen in dark-green and red painted halls at the first floor of the museum. The place was full of visitors and their kids attending museum’s art classes…. Now the first-floor exhibition is evacuated. 

During the first days of confrontation, the entire museum staff, regardless of the positions and despite the lack of invaluable in such conditions equipment, hours after hours dismantled and transferred to safety the works of art trying to protect them all. Now the halls are empty and prepared for any turn of events: one can see fire extinguishers everywhere, windows are closed with protective shields to prevent any damage from “Molotov cocktails” or stray bullets, the floor and the windows are constantly cleaned of soot coming from burning barricades built of used car tires. Museum workers consider the soot as a separate dangerous threat as, when it settles on icons, it can seriously damage them. Yuliya Vaganova, deputy Museum director, said that the riot police probably already know her and her colleagues quite well, thus letting them pass through the police checkpoints on the way to Museum pretty quickly. One can get around the “battlefield” on the way to the Museum yet the police let people pass only if they have museum worker’s identity cards on them. Therefore, some colleagues have to stay in the Museum for their “night shift” while the others bring them food and necessary supplies next morning. As of now, a temporary ceasefire between the protesters and the riot police is announced at the European square. The smoke is not so thick, the soot from the tire barricades is not so intense, and, hopefully, the Museum will live through a quiet night. But an improvised “field hospital” remains open. It’s been set up by protesters in nearby the National Parliamentary Library of Ukraine, right across the street from the Institute of Literature and Arts with its archives. Another night on an unusually quiet frontline. 

Translated by Andriy Zin

The Ukraine I Know

Many of you, Uncataloged readers probably have never thought much about Ukraine, except as my posts from and about Ukraine have appeared,  or when your museum thinks about traditional Easter celebrations and those painted eggs.  And perhaps you read my previous posts about the current protests (here and here).  But even casual readers of the news or Stephen Colbert watchers have noticed that something big is up in Ukraine.  Now what you see are armed policemen, burning tires, big crowds on the square,  and beaten protestors. As I do my best to follow the events of these days on Facebook and Twitter,  I think about my time in Ukraine, worry about friends and colleagues, and as a result, have decided to share a few words about the Ukraine I have come to know, a far more complicated place than the news pictures show--but a place that absolutely deserves our support.  So please forgive the non-museum related post--but it was museums that got me to Ukraine in the first place five years ago.

Many of the protestors are like you and me.  You might have come across reports that the people protesting on Maidan (the main square) are terrorists or provocateurs.  I urge you to watch this video. I know my former students from  the National University at Kyiv-Mohyla Academy and many of my friends and colleagues have been out every day protesting.  It's not surprising that educated Ukrainians, many of whom have had opportunities to study or travel in western Europe or the United States, feel deeply committed to the concept of a civil society.   But several things have surprised me as I watch the protests.

First, when I first visited Ukraine, it seemed really difficult for many Ukrainians I met to think that they could stand up and make a difference--and that extended to things big and small.  At one point, I encouraged some colleagues to begin a museum educators group and someone said, "but who are we to start it?  It must be official."  What I see in the protests is that now,  many Ukrainians have realized that it's their time to stand up.  (of course, it's not everyone--I just read a translated open letter to "kitchen philosophers"  who stay at home.)

Second,  that I see so many faces of everyday people in the crowds:  not necessarily intellectuals,  or well-off people.  They look like the woman who sold me vegetables, or the man sitting next to me on the mashrutka going to work.  This protest is no longer about affliliating with Europe,  but it's about the right to live in a civil society, where corruption does not infuse every aspect of life (and make no mistake, it does).  It's beautiful to watch the courage and determination of everyday people (because now, even going to a protest carries a jail term--or worse).  On this year's Martin Luther King day, his words particularly resonated with me.

But other things don't surprise me.

• Trust and Mistrust As an outsider and an American, I found this very complicated when I first came to Ukraine.  If you know a person--they are family, or you went to school with them, you absolutely trust them.  If you don't know them, you probably don't trust them.  The protests seem to have both reinforced this and at the same time, changed it a bit, as the protest movement moves beyond small groups of people you know into a larger movement.
• Making Do.  Ukrainians have amazing skills in making do.  I've seen all kinds of creative fixes in all kinds of living and work situations and the protests are no exception.  A home-made catapult?  We're on it.  Torn down by the police?  We can build another.  Need to feed a lot of people?  We'll bring out the giant soup kettles.  Wearing helmets outlawed?  We'll wear colanders and pots for protection.
• It's Cold Outside   I've laughed at several video pieces where I've seen foreign journalists interviewing someone and the Ukrainian interviewee interrupts to offer a hat, or mittens, or to say the journalist's coat is clearly not warm enough.  I often had people tell me the same.
• The Language of Organization  in English translation, the language often sounds very Soviet to me as an American but fascinating to see that language used in a different context. 
• Singing  Ukrainians are beautiful singers and singing has been a part of the protests.  One of my very first events I went to, on a very cold January evening, was a choral concert.  It's funny, I rarely remember hearing the national anthem sung,  but it is now sung regularly on Euromaidan. 
• Social Media I've been able to stay in touch with friends via Facebook since I first went to Ukraine.  The protestors use of social media has been fast, comprehensive and a combination of moving and funny.   The film collective Babylon 13 is making great short films,  called Cinema of a Civil Protest.  They're well worth a watch.  And independent journalists have covered the protests tirelessly despite being directly targeted by the riot police.
• Not Everybody's a Good Guy   There are right-wing nationalists on the side of the protestors.  To my mind, single-minded ethnic nationalists are not good guys really anywhere and some of these groups have made no secret of their aims.  However, it doesn't discredit the entire protest. And of course, there are plenty of people, from the president on down, whose goal is to preserve, not Ukraine, but their personal wealth and privilege.  Hopefully their time is soon ending.
• There's Support Coming from Everywhere in Ukraine  Many Ukrainians often dismiss the east of the country as Russian and corrupt.  I've spent a fair amount of time in Donetsk, as recently as last May, and like everywhere I've been in Ukraine, I've been lucky enough to meet passionate people who care about the future of their country.  It's not a division between east and west, but a division between people who want a civil society with human rights and those who don't.

Make no mistake. Sometimes I found life in Ukraine (at several points, living just blocks from where the protests are in Kyiv) incredibly frustrating.  Bureaucratic rules,  a brusqueness that often shaded into rudeness, a reluctance to change, a sense of different values than I hold.  But honestly, sometimes I find that in the United States too (having just spent more than a few hours this week trying to track down a package from the Postal Service).  I can't predict what happens next in Ukraine.  But here's the Ukraine I know:

• Talking with my graduate students about Ukraine's past and trying to puzzle out how museums might make a difference.  
• Sitting in a kitchen in a Crimean Tatar settlement, thanks to my friend Barb, and learning how to make dumplings from Lenura.
• Doing a workshop on visitor friendly museums in Kharkiv,  and hearing one participant announce at the beginning that interactive elements were "not for our people" and having her change her mind by the end of the day.
• Moved to tears by the staff at the Museum of the Great Patriotic War, as we worked together on an exhibit project,  when they brought out letters and other archival materials documenting how people--all kinds of people--had helped others different than themselves during World War II.
• Sitting in a tiny cheesemakers' hut in the Carpathians,  eating cheese, bread, cucumbers and tomatoes, talking about the world.
• Walking across in front of St. Sophia's at night, looking down to St. Michael's and thinking," this is a great city."
• Hearing high school students in Donetsk share their oral history interviews with family members who worked in the mines.
• And more conversations than I can remember: in the car to Opishne with Ihor;  on the train to Donetsk or the veranda of the Bulgakov Museum with Irina;  and with more people than I can count in kitchens, in cafes,  on the street, in museums, train compartments, and of course as part of the Pickle Project.  Ukraine is a beautiful place but it's the people that matter to me.

When I was there, often people I know would say, a bit laughingly,  at the end of a conversation with me, "Linda, you are so optimistic!"  It sometimes seemed a quality in short supply.  But, for Ukraine, although I worry greatly,  I still remain optimistic in every way for all of you.  To your future!