An Abundant Spirit: Ukrainian Views on AAM's Conference

Before the annual AAM conference, I wrote about the chances you'd have to hear from my Ukrainian colleagues, Ihor Poshyvailo, Eugene Chervony and Tania Kochubinska about their work--and current issues in Ukraine. We had an amazing time in Seattle and I thought Uncataloged readers might be interested in hear their perspectives on the conference and what it meant to each of them.

From Eugene:

The most inspiring thing about the conference was the sharing of different ideas and what museums are doing in own organizations. Understanding of this big museum family every part of whom are doing great things in different parts of the world. At the same time I am understanding how much people did not come who have to share with others. 

One surprising thing was the similarity of problems in Ukrainian and US museums. We have very different circumstances in museum field, but problems are common for both environments - human resources, capacity building, decreasing of exhibit costs. Based on it we are sharing ideas with each other to increase our perception of solutions for the problems. Communication and linkage between professionals are very important and it has been proven again. Another surprising thing is that our ideas from unknown country could be very successful in other countries who have very developed and stable museum environments.

The size of the conference and development of museum industry is very memorable and it is hard to imagine such things in my country. A lot of great museum professionals are coming to present to the annual meeting and it is really great to understand that around you people and authors of books, that are standing on your shelf!

From Tania:

If to think about the conference generally, first of all, it is about communication and ideas exchange. What is great about any conference, it is about meeting professionals of your field from different contexts. If to talk about Seattle, it was all extremely welcoming, and it was really stimulating to be a presenter (with a great thanks to Linda Norris), for the 1st time in my life, and to share experience, and being heard and discussed. What I was really surprised about was that at the AAM conference that (despite the keynote speakers that of course which gathered major audiences) all the sessions were attended equally. You could see the equal amount of people coming to quite different sessions, whether the speakers presented leading museums or were from museums of a local value. It seemed to me that people were more interested in what is unknown rather than known and familiar. The audience seemed not to have preconceived expectations.

But at the same time, strange feeling of dischronation has always accompanied me because of coming from a quite different context into a safe society with different problems and different social reality. Getting into a new context makes you always rethink your own values, and this time, particularly.

And from Ihor:

It was my first experience of participation in the AAM Annual Meeting and Museum Expo. I was deeply impressed by the concentration of creative thinking and challenging opportunities for the museum world at that Innovation Edge in Seattle. I have never felt such a positive energy lavishly generated by a museum family of over 5000 participants from 50 countries at almost two hundred sessions in the spacious and hi-tech Washington State Convention Center.

It was so exciting to listen and even to talk to iconic persons of American museum field. Great to hear keynote speech of David Fleming on museums and social justice, and his referring to Ukrainian museums which try to be socially inclusive and go beyond traditional thinking.

But no less exciting was participating in a series of presentations and discussions in a frame of the International Track sessions focused on global aspects and cultural perspectives. And such an honor for the Ukrainian museum delegation to share its challenges, approaches, hopes, lessons and preliminary results on the road to change. This happened due to our American colleagues namely Linda Norris and Tricia Edwards with whom we hold a fantastic discussion on how constraints make us more creative, getting so many inspiring ideas from the audience. It was also a fantastic pop-up session on challenges and threats for the museum sector in Ukraine, presentation of the Dynamic Museum project at the "Lessons from the International Community”, meeting with the American Committee of ICOM. It was so nice to see familiar and friendly faces of our American colleagues who have invested so many time and efforts in building bridges between our museum communities.

Intensive days of the innovative gathering in Seattle have overwhelmed me with new feelings, inspired with new ideas and empowered with new tools for making change back home. It was a good start for a smaller but no less important museum initiative – “Visitors Voices” project which will be bringing the best American practices in transforming museums into places where diverse viewpoints and independent perspectives can be freely shared.

All of us give great shout-outs and thank yous to Tricia Edwards, our co-presenter and co-organizer of the entire effort (and photographer of our post-session relaxing at the head of the post); Dean Phelus of AAM, who helped make so many things possible; the United States Embassy in Ukraine and the Rinat Akhmetov Foundation,  who provided financial support; and ICOM-US, who provided a platform for additional presentations. From my own perspective, I'll long remember the ICOM-US lunch, where Ihor, Tania and Eugene, stepped forward to talk movingly and spontaneously,  about the power of art, the meaning of museums, and the ways in which we all need to work together.  And of course, thanks to all of you who introduced yourselves, asked a question, had a drink with us, or in any and every way made our Ukrainian colleagues feel a welcomed part of the larger museum community.

I could see, around the web, from photos and comments, that Eugene's innovative leaves (below) created from constraints were memorable for many others at our session. They symbolize a kind of creativity and abundant spirit and generosity that I hope always to see in our work.  

What's Your First Step in a New Job?

One of this year's mentees, Megan Wood,  writes about her path in a new organization.  We've already had some great conversations as she explores new ways of working in a new organization.  I look forward to following her path through this coming year.

In February I took on a new position with an organization that is the middle of growth and exciting change.  My new job is on the leadership team as the Associate Vice President for Education & Visitor Experience at the Historic Ford Estates, which includes the Edsel and Eleanor Ford House and the newly acquired Henry Ford Estate.  I am only the second person to have a job with “education” in its title at this institution, so there is a lot of opportunity to grow and expand current offerings.  I have also been fortunate to be able to hire new staff and build a team focused on daily and special learning experiences.

It is both exciting and intimidating to start off anew with a team.  Exciting because of the chance to go my own way and intimidating because there is only one chance to have a fresh start.  I want to create an environment where people feel comfortable experimenting and unafraid of failure.  I also want to create an environment of collegiality and teamwork.

I decided to take a few crucial steps:

• Start off with a team meeting and look at personal preference styles. 

On the advice of my mentor, Linda, we used an online tool to examine our dispositions towards Gardner’s learning modalities.  We talked a little bit about what we look like as a team.  It was interesting to see how individual personal interests manifest in learning style, and to keep it in mind as we move forward in planning and development of programs and experiences.

• Use an ideas board to document and share creativity.

One of the Try-It’s from the book, Creativity in Museum Practice talks about an idea board that anyone can post to and capture ideas, images, or text that reflects the creativity we want to capture in our own work.  Instead of creating a work Pinterest board, we decided that the physical reminder of our ideas in a shared workspace could help inspire and ignite us as we work together and individually.

•  Lay out my evolving philosophy on teamwork and leadership.

As currently structured, everyone on the team will be a team member or a leader in turn, depending on the project.  As the boss, I decided to make it clear what my philosophy is, so I sent around a one-page document that includes values like listening, care and service, respectful discourse, simplicity and clarity, and joy and lifelong learning.  I want to make sure that whoever we work within the organization, that my group is respected for their ability to lead and to be lead.

So far I am happy with the work and ideas that have been coming from my new team and can see some areas where I can improve as a leader.  We continue to meet as a team every other week, and then I meet with each person individually on the off weeks.  I hope in a few months’ time I will feel we have success in cultivating a creative and open environment, and I hope to share what I’ve learned through this experience.  Stay tuned…

Scared of the F-Words?

Fear.  Failure.  They're scary words.  We hate to admit them,  we don't often want to own up to them, and they affect our work more than we like.   Over the last two weeks, I've been in two great conversations where we used them; owned them;  we embraced them; to move the process of change forward.

I've been working with the Harriet Beecher Stowe Center on the re-interpretation of the Stowe House for a little over a year.  As you can imagine, that is many, many conversations among many, many people about how to create a historic house experience that really embodies the Stowe Center's social justice mission, in addition to caring for the house and collections.   This week, we brought a team of 20 (yes 20!) together to do some serious thinking as we're now at the decision-making stage.  Designer, evaluator, development people, architect, curator, director, educator, front-end staff, community members, scholars, playwright.  We were all around the table.

In planning the day, Shannon Burke, Director of Education and Visitor Services and I realized that everyone (including us) had fears about the project.  We decided to surface them first thing.  Using just a flip chart, I wrote down the fears that the group shared.  None of them would really surprise anyone who's been through a big project:  not enough money;  losing the audience we have; not gaining new audiences;  not doing enough training;  not having the new experience be "magical;"   not getting everyone on board; have the experience be not diverse enough;  too much technology;  not enough technology;  can we find a clear theme and make it real?   

It was a pretty big list.  But I flipped over the page and we didn't talk any more about them until the very end of the day. After a great, inspiring day, full of new ideas, connections, and more, we flipped the page back and went through the fears.  Some fears had gone away--but there were definitely still some fears left.  The good news though, is that I think most people in the room felt the fears were now manageable.  We'd made progress on the day, but knew that there was much work to do.  By surfacing and sharing fears, we turned them from the big monster under the bed to something we can work on together.

But what about failure?  Many of the Stowe Center team's fears were about failure.  At the New England Museum Association's Young and Emerging Professionals meet-up last week, Rainey Tisdale and I shared some creativity information (Rainey's awesome speed networking creativity dance-off will have to wait for another post).  I took on running the Failure Olympics.   Divided into Failure Nations, each group had to create a Failure flag (my favorites:  the crumpled paper and the lonely stick with no flag);  share their own stories of fails and lessons learned; and then nominate someone to compete in the Failure Olympics by sharing their stories in front of the whole group.  The winner:  a complex tale of ants, ant farms, exhibit openings and a shy young professional who learned that asking for help is better than having a pile of dead ants.  

What do both these conversations have in common?  Exactly that.  They were conversations.  In each setting, we tried to create an atmosphere of trust--and fun--so that fears and failures were easily shared, rather than hidden under our desk.   It takes zero dollars to do this--it just takes a willingness to listen and to talk.

Dear readers,  what's your best/worst failure story?

Top:  the Failure Olympics, center:  Stowe House meeting,  bottom:  failure flag creation.

#getoutofizo Why Should You Care?

I first visited Izolyatsia, the innovative cultural center in Donetsk on a cold, rainy November day in 2011.  A few of us dashed through the raindrops and found ourselves in a huge warehouse, where equally huge portraits of salt and coal miners marched up hills of coal and salt.  The huge installation, by Cai Guo-Qiang has continued to stay with me (you can read my earlier post on it here).  I continued to keep an eye on the center's activities and last May had the opportunity to tour the site, learn about its work with artists and with the community, and get to know their energetic, passionate staff as we met with high school students to think about industrial history here.  When I think of Donetsk, this is one of the places I think about--a place that shows the ways in which art can engage communities and could help transform Donetsk's industrial landscape to a place of beauty and creativity.

This week, the news came out that Izolyatsia had been directly targeted by the separatists now active in Donetsk, taken over at gunpoint and the staff evacuated to Kyiv.  They issued a statement on their website that included the following to the "Prime Minister" of the Donetsk People's Republic about the takeover:

However, on the following day, June 10th, the employees from the former Izolyatsia factory still present on the territory noticed that the DPR militia under the influence of alcohol had looted the rented offices of the foundation, vandalising private property, and removing equipment, tools, the contents of the foundation’s safety vault, including the private property of its employees. Meanwhile, the foundation’s representatives were prohibited from recovering artworks, documents and personal belongings.

There are also permanent installations on the Izolyatsia territory, some of which cannot be dismantled or removed. Unless the territory is immediately vacated by your subordinates, we insist on receiving reimbursement of the costs associated with these site-specific works.

Meanwhile, it is essential that the foundation representatives gain access to artworks that may be removed from the territory, and which include such items as paintings, sculptures and various artefacts made by contemporary Ukrainian and foreign artists.

Within the last four years numerous artists, curators and art managers have been working together to create, install and maintain these works. It is these unique works which have given Izolyatsia its identity in Ukraine and internationally. This initiative has transformed the territory of the former factory into a popular social venue for local residents and tourists.

It's abundantly clear that Izolyatsia was specifically targeted--and that should concern every one of us in the arts.  The rationale that the space was needed for warehouses is absolutely false, and a chilling echo of the old Soviet practice of turning churches into warehouses.   Art exhibitions, a maker lab (one of the first museums I saw a 3D printer available for use), performances, lectures, films, programs for families--all of these opened up a wider world for the community that the separatists would now close down.

Why should it matter to you?  It should matter to all of us every time a creative organization is targeted by those who would silence it.  What can you do from your desk?  It's hard to know what to do, but I suspect one of the most important things we can do is pay attention.  Like Izolyatsia on Facebook, follow them on Twitter, and keep up to date on what's happening.   I look forward to the time when I can return to Ukraine, to Donetsk, to see what exciting new thing Izolyatsia is planning.

 

Lost Neighbourhoods: Can Oral History be the Center of an Exhibit?

Catherine Charlebois, from the Centre d'histoire de Montreal (Montreal's History Center) is one of my mentees for 2014. Her first blog post shares the background of an exhibit project that ended up transforming both the work of the museum and of her own professional practice. It's a great example of how uncertainty is an integral part of any creative process. This is part one of two, so stay tuned for the follow-up.

In June 2011, the Centre d’histoire de Montréal (Montreal’s History Center) launched its new temporary exhibition: Lost Neighbourhoods. The idea: bring back to life three working-class neighbourhoods and explain their disappearance. The objective: have the individuals who went through the events tell the story. The result: A new museum approach where oral histories are the primary sources and videotaped interviews, the main artifacts. For the first time, former residents who were uprooted had a public voice and told their stories, while planners active during the events and present-day experts explained the issues of the period and evaluated their legacy.

The Centre d’histoire de Montréal
 
I think it is important that I share the institution’s history to understand why it became so important for the CHM to create a major oral history-based exhibition.

The Centre d’histoire de Montréal, created in 1983, is a city-operated museum located in a former fire station, a unique heritage site. It drew inspiration from the ideas behind US National Park Service orientation centers. It was simply a place where visitors could get a brief overview of the history of the city through one permanent exhibition. Over the years, the Centre accumulated the other activities traditional to museums: temporary exhibitions, programs and collections.
 

By the early years of 2000, the Center got more and more interested in finding ways to include the many « voices » of its citizens in its interpretation activities, especially those under-represented in the more official storyline, such as the underprivileged and ethnic communities. We became interested in documenting groups that are also usually totally absent or under-represented in more traditional museums' collections and interpretation. The staff discovered and rapidly adopted the collection of memories and personal commentaries of historical significance. Montrealers sharing their memories through recorded interviews helped to create exhibitions and educational programming that would really feature their presence in the city’s history. In brief, oral history had officially made its entrance at the Centre d’histoire de Montreal and would become, over the years, an important part of its organizational identity.

The seeds of change...
 
After experimenting, developing and creating different oral history projects and programs for almost 10 years, the CHM decided, in 2009, that it was time to think seriously about doing a major exhibition in which the voices and memories of Montrealers would play a central part.
 
The Lost Neighbourhoods exhibition project was born with the discovery of a collection in the City Archives of more than 6400 photographs of buildings slated for demolition in older working-class neighbourhoods surrounding downtown Montreal in the 1950s and 1960s. Like other North American cities during the 1950s up to the 1970s, Montreal was transformed by major urban renewal projects. A modern city emerged, but only through the expropriation and displacement of more than 25,000 people from older inner-city neighbourhoods. The demolition of the three neighbourhoods presented in the exhibition, the Red Light district, the Fauboug à m’lasse (Molasse Borough) and Goose Village, resulted in the displacement of more than 12,000 people.
 
The City undertook the daunting task of systematically numbering and photographing the exterior facades (and sometimes interior rooms) of the thousands of residences condemned for demolition. It is believed that these photographic archives were created to facilitate the appraisal of building value in order to compensate owners. With basic information on the building and images in hand, the city’s real estate appraisers could simply do their job at their desk without having to pace up and down streets and back alleys.

In the presence of this extraordinary visual account of vanished neighbourhoods and with all the experience we had acquired with oral history it became clear to us that it was the perfect project to combine both: An history museum exhibition based on a corpus of historical photographs mixed with personal testimonies of people who had lived in these neighbourhoods and gone through the displacement process.

Aiming toward another type of exhibition...

We were pumped, excited and deeply motivated by this idea. We knew somehow that it would work, that it would propel us toward something different. But, to be completely honest, we had no idea about how to do it exactly or what would be the end result. But we knew somehow, that to fully embrace this new way of doing an history exhibition in an history museum we had to let go some of our old habits and beliefs and embrace new methods--get even more creative.

On the other hand, the CHM’s agenda for this project was very clear from the start :

• showcase, in innovative manner, of a vast photography collection from the municipal archives. a collection mostly unknown to the public .
• re-position the institution by prioritizing the memories of Montrealers making the CHM a leading curator and promoter of our own citizens history and memory.
• and above all, place oral history at the heart of the interpretation and exhibition design. By placing oral history at the center, we had three subgoals:
• present, in a non-confrontational manner, the different viewpoints of the residents/citizens and those of urban planners and historians.
• make oral history the principal resource in interpretation and interaction with museum visitors, limiting images and, especially, texts to a discreet supporting role when appropriate.
• better understand this watershed moment in Montreal’s history by revealing the human face of urban renewal.

These were the initial goals and moreover they acted as guidelines to develop the project since we did not have models to rely on or similar previous exhibition experience of that kind and of that scale. They were not written down but came over and over in our conversations, meetings and official presentations of the project. Despite the lack of written "plans" these goals did not undergo revision throughout the process. They were clearly stated and understood, they were the official institutional positions and oriented the project from day one.

Using Oral History to Tell the Human Side of the Story 

With these goals in mind plus the objective to bring back to life these three working-class neighbourhoods we knew we could not do things only in a traditional way. We had to venture ourselves toward other fields and techniques. On one hand, we of course had to include field research, finding and collecting testimonies. On the other, we had to think on how to include this type of information and media in an exhibition that would be really engaging and entertaining to the audience.

We put in parallel motion traditional documentary research done in preparation to any exhibition project and an oral history collecting campaign. For nine months, the field team interviewed former residents and also City of Montreal officials and other actors involved in the demolitions. We also interviewed professionals and researchers who could give us an appreciation and a better comprehension of what happened at the time.

Ten binders of research materials, 43 filmed interviews involving 55 participants and more than 75 hours of interview footage later we had to make sense of all of this. We still had the challenge to materialize this wild idea of creating an orally-based history museum exhibition. The ultimate objective being that the interviews, the oral history aspect of the project, would be the basis for the historical interpretation of the events and not the artifacts or the archival documents. From day one, people’s voices would be the center of this story.

But the question was still how? How could we establish a clear, efficient and engaging dialogue between the design of exhibition spaces, the more traditional historical documents, including the vast collection of photographs, and the taped interviews which we wanted at the center?

Of course we knew that the use of oral history in exhibitions was not a new idea. But in general, these personal accounts usually constitute one among several illustrative techniques to facilitate visitors’ understanding of the theme. They also usually are not the principal source of documentation and interpretation within a history museum exhibition and nor are they fully integrated into the design. We wanted to change that. We wanted to go further, go beyond the small television in the corner or the cinema-type room where you happened to go only if you have time... In Lost Neighbourhoods we wanted to place personal testimonies at the centre of the exhibition. But still, how do you do that? Stay tuned for Part 2 to find out how the exhibit was created.

Ukraine in Seattle

I've been going through the AAM conference schedule, trying to figure out how I'm going to make time for all I'd like to do and learn--and I figured Uncataloged readers might be doing the same.  So I wanted to alert you to several chances to meet three of my great Ukrainian colleagues who will be attending the conference so you can mark your own calendars. (and a shout-out to AAM's app developers for creating the feature to add your own schedule in this year!)

Ihor Poshyvailo of the Ivan Honchar Museum, Eugene Chervony of  Shevchenko's Grove, the Museum of Folk Architecture and Life,  and Tania Kochubinska of the Pinchuk Art Centre bring a great variety of museum experiences to Seattle.  Along with Tricia Edwards of the Smithsonian's Lemelson Center, we'll be presenting Can Constraints Make Your More Creative? on Sunday at 2:00 PM.  Ukrainian museums operate under constraints that many of us can barely imagine, and we'll share creative solutions already underway and engage audience members in helping us to think anew about others.

But judging from the response we got from several posts about Ukrainian museums during the conflicts of the last several months, we're guessing that conference-goers might relish the chance to dig deep into the current issues surrounding the conflict and how its affected museums.  Thanks to Dean Phelus at AAM and the sponsorship of US-ICOM, we've squeezed in a special session,  Museums in a Time of Conflict, Monday, May 19, 2:00-3:00 PM in the International Lounge. As the Ukrainian  nation works to find a new path, what do the changes mean for museums?  And how have museums stepped up to meet community needs?  And what's the difference between what we see on the news and what's happening?  (You won't find this session in your program, so make a note!)   And, we'll be attending the ICOM-US lunch on Tuesday, so you can also meet them there.

But Ihor, Eugene and Tania are really looking forward to the opportunity to learn more about American museum practices.  In particular,  they have interests in including visitor voices in exhibitions,  branding and marketing,  working with teenagers, and issues surrounding civic engagement.  If you've got a great story or project to share with them, please let me know and I'll put you in touch.  And if you see them in the corridors of the conference, do say hello!  From top to photo in this post, that's Eugene, Tania, and Ihor.

Update:  I neglected one more chance to learn more about Ukraine!  Ihor Poshyvailo will be presenting a case study on the Dynamic Museum Project of the Ivan Honchar Museum in the Lessons from the International Community on Tuesday, May 20 from 8:45-10 a.m.

Our deep gratitude to AAM, the United States Embassy in Ukraine, and the Rinat Akhemetov Foundation for the Development of Ukraine for making this experience possible.

Selling or Sharing?

Last week I spoke to students in a public history course at SUNY Delhi.  These students were not going to become public historians, rather it was an honors course for students majoring in subjects ranging from culinary arts to nursing.  They were a great group and had some really interesting questions about museums, about how history is presented and about my work as, essentially, a small businessperson.  One question has really stuck in my mind.

"In your business,"  said one student, "is it more selling or sharing?"   What an intriguing way to think about what I do.  Every museum consultant works differently and in reflecting on this question I realized how my own approach has evolved over time.  Of course I sell--every freelancer needs to persuade people to hire them.  I blog here, I'm on Linkedin,  I co-wrote a book, you can hear me talk at conferences,  check out my tweets.  That all can be perceived as selling.

But on the other hand, it's also sharing.  I love my work and I think there is potential in any and every museum.  I love sharing ideas from one place to another--I'm sort of a hunter/gatherer/forager of life.  Some of the most-read posts here are simply when I'v closely observed and reported on a visitor experience at museums like the Rosenbach or the Rijksmuseum.

All that blog writing, tweeting, conference-speaking sharing though, isn't what pays the bills.  But when I think about my work directly with museums and history organizations, it's also a process that can be described as sharing.  I believe that great work happens when there's a diversity of opinions and approaches at the table.  My job as a consultant is to find ways to bring great ideas out, experiment with them, fail, experiment again, and keep going.   When I asked one client about why they hired me they said, "You know, you were the one who proposed working with us, not just writing a report."  I'm the consultant with the questions, not with the answers.

But back to selling:  some of my absolutely favorite projects have come from random people emailing me and asking me to talk about a project they have in mind, or sending me an RFP that intrigues me.   If your museum is thinking about engaging communities, or creating an exhibit, or re-interpreting your historic site,  or encouraging your staff to think more creatively, you should be in touch.  And if you want to meet me in person, I'll be at AAM and I'd love to sit down for a chat.  

Selling or sharing?  Selling and sharing.