Click: Natural History Museum, Kyiv

This week I wandered into the Natural History Museum in Kyiv--it's a place I'd been by many times, but had never gotten around to entering.  And inside,  I found both a time capsule of natural history presentation, but also the most lively museum-goers I've seen in Ukraine.   What was in the time capsule?

Cases, lots of cases.

Dioramas,  lots of dioramas,  including my favorite,  of this scene of trolley buses crossing the Dnieper River here in Kyiv.

Specimens and taxidermied animals, lots of specimens and taxidermied animals.  But what I was most struck by were the beautiful illustrations and graphics, showing a hand-done style that is almost gone from museums now that we use computers for illustration.  In the dioramas and in graphics throughout the cases,  there were many illustrations, all hand-done,  in numerous different styles, from these black and white stylized graphics to more formal botanical illustrations.

And it wouldn't be an old-school museum here in Ukraine without at least one really long label and portraits of distinguished scientists.

And of course, the natural habitat of the museum guard.

But, and this is the part that fascinated me,  people were really engaged in this museum.  Kids shared things with other kids;  parents and grandparents talked with children--more than anywhere I've seen here.  So--why?  Is it that the natural world is inherently more interesting than art or history for children?   Is it the contextual material--ie,  do dioramas really help us imagine worlds we don't know?  Or is there another reason entirely?   Your thoughts, readers?  For any reason, it was a pleasure to spend an hour or two watching museum-goers enjoy themselves.

 These two boys were my favorites--they looked at and talked about everything!

From Conference to Change

Last week I had the honor of being the plenary speaker at a conference, The Reform of Museum Management and Marketing, in Kyiv, Ukraine, sponsored by the Anti-Crisis Humanitarian Program of the International Renaissance Foundation, the Ukrainian Center for Museum Development of the Ukraine 3000 Foundation, and the Rinat Akhmetov Foundation for the Development of Ukraine (who generously sponsored my appearance here).   I joined a group of distinguished speakers from Russia, Poland, Kazakhstan, Belarus, and of course, Ukraine itself, to consider how museums can change and adapt to the 21st century.   Attending the conference were more than 120 museum professionals from all over Ukraine.  The conference's sponsors made particular efforts to reach out to museums in the regions, rather than just in Kyiv.  It was great to see old friends and colleagues--and to meet new ones as well.

But the conference raised the same issues for me that much training in the US does.  How do we encourage museums to really embrace what they've learned, to make change and reflection a part of daily work?  Since I began coming to Ukraine two years ago,  I do see signs of change--but I also see a willingness to attend workshops (and for organizations and embassies to present workshops)  but not so much readiness to make real change in an institution.   I'm pleased that this conference opened up some conversations about creating real change in organizations.

I'm far from having any real answers to this,  but a few thoughts (and by the way, I think the same issues exist for many American museums).

Marketing is not the first step
I often think that museums think that if they just produce the latest four-color brochure or have more money to allocate for advertising,  then people will flock to their museum.  It's much harder to get the point across that your product (a word I know that will meet some resistance here in Ukraine) needs to be better--your exhibits more interesting,  your programs more engaging,  your lobby staff friendlier--BEFORE new marketing commences.

Practice, not theory
I have pretty clear ideas about the process of exhibit development--but I also know that talking about it doesn't generate the best understanding.  Museum colleagues here can see my slides of interactive, hands-on exhibits, but until people have the opportunity to actually work on a project that involves, for instance, thinking about a big idea for an exhibition, writing engaging exhibit labels, and developing a creative installation,  those theoretical new ideas just stay theory.

I think some of the next steps in Ukraine are about beginning to integrate real practice into training to follow upon theoretical experiences--and I'd love the opportunity to work with colleagues here on the practical applications.  Some of my best memories here come from the start of those practical discussions in some organizations and a real hands-on project at the National Museum of Books and Printing in 2009 where I taught staff simple paper and book-making activities that are now offered on a weekly basis.

Interested in what audiences think?  The same thing holds true.  We need to find ways to move the discussion from talking about talking to audiences to actually talking TO audiences.   Recently, in the US I did some community conversations with an organization who had been a little resistant about doing them--but afterwards, said a staff member, "I'm a convert--these were great!"  There's the old saying,

Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.

 

We need to move from giving the fish of pure information to actually providing museums with a rod, a hook and a worm,  and sitting on the bank with them as they learn to fish.  Then, I think, real learning will occur.   And the museum with its own efforts,  will sustain its community--and its community, in return, will help sustain the museum.

Change comes from the top and from the bottom

As Ludmyla Gubianuri,  director of the Bulgakov Museum here in Kyiv, said during her presentation, "if you want to have a great museum,  give people creative freedom."  Many directors everywhere guard their prerogatives closely and resist change.  For real change, systematic change, to happen in an organization, the director (and board of directors, or department heads if appropriate) need to believe in the idea of change--and learn to not be threatened by it.  I told the conference audience that I come from a family of enthusiastic learners (not scholars, perhaps, but learners) and that for us, lifelong learning in our careers and in the rest of our lives is something that gives us all great joy--I hope all directors could consider it the same.   And Ludmyla also reminded all of us that the public doesn't really care about your problems, they care about their experience at the museum.

So not matter where you are in the hierarchy,  you can think differently, in large or small ways.

Creating Knowledge Networks
One of the best results of the Dutch-funded MATRA museum training project here in Ukraine was the development of an informal network of colleagues who learned together and continue to share ideas and information.  I have always found the museum field in the US (and now, increasingly, all over the world) incredibly generous with information, ideas and support.  I think an important next step here is building these knowledge networks to share information and ideas in inexpensive ways (I'm not necessarily a fan of expensive publications in this context).

From Contest to Competency
AAM, for instance, and AASLH's Award of Merit program.  But both those programs recognize multiple winners and make the submissions and winners available to the entire field.   I wonder whether resources might be better allocated towards small improvement grants rather than prizes and at the very least, a system developed to clearly share the winning efforts and highlights best practices so others can be inspired.   And that gets back to the whole idea of sharing skills and knowledge, as above.

More posts to come about other lively discussions at the conference--but the best part for me--was, I think,  that most Ukrainian museum professionals now understand that my commitment to them and their work is a increasingly deeper one.   Who would have thought that two years ago!

The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamlined House Tour

Last week, I spent a great deal of time on the road, a not unusual occurence,  and in the early morning, I'm always happy to hear Garrison Keillor come through my car radio with the Writers' Almanac.
On March 2 it was Dr. Suess's birthday--but it was also Tom Wolfe's birthday and Keillor shared a bit of Wolfe's essay on journalism, in which he suggested that reporters needed to employ four technical devices more commonly used in fiction to get at the emotional core of any story.   As the story continued, I realized that Wolfe's four rules were exactly in line with what makes a great guided tour (something I've been pondering lately for a couple different organizations, including the Thomas Cole National Historic Site in Catskill, NY).
So, what did Wolfe, the author of both fiction and non-fiction classics such as Bonfire of the Vanities, The Right Stuff and The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby think journalists (and by my extension, historic site tour developers) do to engage their audiences?  It's pretty simple.

1. Construct scenes
2. Dialogue, lots of it
3. Carefully noting social status details everything from dress and furniture to the infinite status clues of one's speech.
4. Point of view in the Henry James' sense of putting the reader inside the mind of someone other than the writer (or tour developer).

Those, said Wolfe, are the devices that give fiction its absorbing, gripping quality, making the reader feel present in the scene described or even inside the skin of a particular character.   I suspect that Wolfe, when he wants a writer to note details such as dress and furniture doesn't mean to imply that those details are the most important part of the narrative, but rather that those details support the larger emotional connection.

Think about the last tour you took and compare it to the last novel you read.  A novel requires a significantly greater investment of time but we stick with it, because the rewards, those emotional connections, may be far greater.  I'd love to hear from readers about tours that made those strong emotional connections--where have you been?

Photos from Flickr
Top by Lachlan Hardy; bottom by Mo Riza

Click: National Zoo

Several weeks ago,  I spent an enjoyable few hours at the National Zoo in Washington, DC.  It had been a long time since I'd visited and I was intrigued by the level of exhibitry I found.   And as I looked,  I realized that the engineering of many of the exhibit elements was substantial--to withstand the outdoors,  repeated use by huge numbers of people, and in one case, a design for a fascinating people/animal interaction.   Here's a bit of what I saw.  First, the elephant exhibit--although we didn't see any actual elephants out that day!

 

A tilt-it, pin-ball like game about dangers in habitats that really encouraged people, even toddlers, to figure out how to work cooperatively in moving a ball through a maze.  

Giant models of dung.  Who wouldn't want to see these! 

I'm not usually a fan of lift-up tabs, but this slider design meant that you had the ability to think about 

 the two choices,  rather than just a random flip-up.  Nice design--and super sturdy.

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I found the cell phone trivia game not very exciting compared to both the animals and all the other interactive elements in this section,  but I could imagine, for certain kinds of learners, particularly a restless kid in a group with others, it might really be intriguing.

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Throughout the zoo, an emphasis on what we can do to help protect the world's wildlife.  I'd love to know if there have been studies that see whether this kind of signage and education really does encourage citizen action.

Now, on to the Think Tank, an indoor exhibit about how, why and if animals think.  There weren't many visitors inside on the sunny day I was there, and I think the exhibit probably is of greatest interest to visitors other than moms with strollers, of which there were many that day.

I loved that in the section on using tools, the designer used bright red tool chests as exhibit furniture.  And those yellow Post-its?  A design element, not real post-its,  but a great element that most visitors understand as a place to look first.  Here's a close-up.

And finally,  one of the most intriguing interactives I've ever seen.  The visitor could sit on something that looked like a rowing machine and play tug-of-war with the great apes who were on the other side of the glass--but it was totally up to the ape whether he or she wanted to play with you.  They weren't interested in playing that day,  but absolutely almost every visitor to the space wanted to try.   It was just a one-person interactive, but it made it possible for others to watch and consider and the uncertainty was a great element.

But of course, you go to the zoo to see animals.  And seeing 7 young lion cubs out to play trumped all the exhibit elements!

YES! the crowd WILL fund our project: Kickstarter Lessons #3

On February 1 at 5:00 PM,  Sarah Crow and I closed the book on our effort to fund the Pickle Project on Kickstarter.  We were amazed, humbled and thrilled to exceed our goal of $5000.  119 fabulous backers pledged a total of $5775 to make further research and documentation a reality.

I've written before here and there about some of the lessons we learned along the way but wanted to share some additional thoughts with my readers here.

Slow and steady wins the race

Our Kickstarter period was 50 days and our goal was $5000.  In most Kickstarter efforts there's a jump in pledges at the beginning, they level off, for a long middle period, and then, if successful, jump up again at the end.  We seemed to be a bit of an exception in that we plugged along the entire time, slow and steady.

Figure the Math
We had figured that we needed $100 per day to reach our goal and we kept a pretty close eye on that number.  Good days, we exceeded it, and a few not-so-good days went by with no backers at all.  But what we didn't do, and I think would be useful for anyone embarking on Kickstarter to do, is that math about how many backers at what levels we needed to be successful.  Here's how it played out for us--see the pie chart above.

Fully fifty percent of our donors were at the $25 level and another twenty-five percent at the $50 level, with smaller amounts both above and below those numbers.   I suspect most Kickstarter project developers dream of those big anonymous backers coming through.  We didn't receive any backers at our highest level,  but our two largest pledges were from people we don't know.

And what about people you know and don't know?
Our backers fell into several different categories.

• Friends and family
• Museum colleagues (and this including friends I know in person and colleagues who know me through this blog, Twitter or some other means)
• Peace Corps Volunteers who have been or are stationed in Ukraine
• Former Fulbright Scholars and Students
• The Ukrainian community in North America
• People interested in food and sustainability
• People who are regular backers of Kickstarter projects
• And people we don't know at all!

What this list tells me is that we did a pretty good job at putting all of our networks to work.  One single network or only one avenue of approach would not, for us at least, have gotten the word out to enough people.

And how did we get the word out?
One great thing about Kickstarter is that it made it easy for others to help.  If you became a backer, it was easy to share the link on your Facebook feed and/or email it to others.  So great backers were also great boosters, encouraging others to join them, even going so far as to offer home-made pickles to backers in one city!


The layout of the Kickstarter site also provides a very professional, welcoming and accessible aesthetic (see above) that lends additional credibility to the effort.  The Pickle Project already has a well-developed social media presence but the Kickstarter site might be particularly useful for efforts that do not have good information online. (and it always made me smile to see Treadwell, population 250, listed up there with cities like New York and San Francisco in the Cities bar for project locations)

You can follow the Pickle Project on Twitter (@PickleProject) and midway through the project we began tweeting (using twitpic) a Pickle Pic of the Day, which we also posted on Facebook.  We heard from a number of people who really enjoyed seeing that picture, of food, of people, of a place, every day and it's something we'll try to keep up.

I came to appreciate the value of Twitter as numerous backers and other tweeters  took up our cause.  Everyone from PoPinDC and ArchivesInfo (museum colleagues both) to Ms. Marmite Lover, from London, who shared our work with her almost 7000 followers.

We of course, continued to blog and to share updates on Kickstarter.  This kept our backers engaged and made it easier for them to share our work with their circles as new information came in.  The support of other blogs was also great.  Melissa Mannon offered me a guest spot on her Archives Info blog,  and blogs such as Brooklyn Baba, Brooklyn Brine and the blog of the Agricultural and Food Law Program at the University of Arkansas each gave the project short features, raising the project's profile.   Sarah did an interview on Nash Holos, a Ukrainian focused radio show from Vancouver and I appeared on Simona David's show on WIOX here in the Catskills.  The Watershed Post did a great feature where we talked about the similarities between the Catskills and rural areas in Ukraine.

In short, every single day of those 50 days, except for Christmas, we did something--and usually more than one something.   And we used old media, new media, and everything in between.  An unexpected bonus is that this concentrated effort expanded our audience in the long run.

Why did people back us?
The answers to that are as varied as our backers--and backers, if you're blog readers here, we'd love to have you weigh in with your thoughts.  Some cared about Ukraine, some cared about food, some cared about us (thanks Moms!) but we think most importantly,  people were excited to back a passionate idea,  an idea about something new, that we managed to convey that in all of our efforts.  A project like this is a risk, and we're honored by the trust and confidence all our backers have placed in us.

Is Kickstarter Right for Your Project?
That's something only you can answer.  About 50% of the thousands of Kickstarter projects have been funded (remember, it's all or nothing).  We can guarantee that the money just won't come pouring in--but I think, with my museum hat back on,  that it could be a tremendous platform for some types of museum projects:  exhibits,  efforts to engage new audiences,  mobile apps--but only if the museum/history organization is willing to push hard for backers--that's no different than any other kind of fundraising!   I also think it's potentially a great vehicle for history-related projects that don't have an institutional base, but rather, represent more individual passions and interests.

Was It Right for the Pickle Project?
Absolutely.  Just in case you missed it,  here's our Kickstarter video to see what we hope to do.  And our thanks go out to all our tremendous backers from around the world--we appreciate you all!

The Word from 8th Grade: That was Awesome!

The term focus group often seems scary or off-putting to some groups I work with--but really, it's just a term for listening to what visitors--and potential visitors--have to say.   Last week,  as part of a new IMLS-supported project at the Ontario County Historical Society,  staff members and I spent two days listening to community members talk about the museum and about the concept for the new exhibition, "Greed and Other Human Desires:  The Early History of Western New York."  You can check out the project blog here to learn more.  

Much of the visitor research work in the museum field focuses on larger institutions as those museums have the funds to commit to full-scale evaluation. The work by Reach Advisors, particularly their survey of Connecticut cultural consumers,  begins to bring audience perspectives from all kinds of museums, including small ones, into the picture.  So I was interested to see what our groups had to say both as it related to larger contexts as well as our particular project.

All the conversations were fascinating, but I was particularly struck by the comments of two groups of 8th graders.  These were students,  chosen by their social studies teacher, with a particular interest in history:  many of them were History Day participants and all were headed towards AP history courses. Here are some of their thoughts on what museums do.

 On labels

• Kids don't really like reading.   [but then some disagreement from several others who did like to read.]
• They had like the artifact and a small description—not too small, but not like a history lesson.
• I had to go on a field trip that I liked up until my teacher told me I had to be reading a lot because if I wasn’t reading I wouldn’t learn.  I’ve learned more from museums than having to read right off a wall.
• Part of a museum is seeing it, otherwise it would be a library.

On computers

• If you go somewhere with your family, you don’t want to be stuck at one computer screen, you want to be able to pass it around and talk about it.
• I don’t like them that much.
• It’s weird that it’s dirty. [this was a conversation about germs]
• I feel like with the computer—it’s only one answer you can get.
• At a museum, you clicked on a computer and read about it—it was a cartoon, Ice Age and seemed kind of boring…clicking.
• There was 100% agreement in both groups that computers were the least interesting part of a museum visit.

On Hands-On Interactives

• You could get to feel like what they were doing and how they were doing it and what went through their mind.  You get the sense of “whoa, that was hard for them!"
• Pops out more in my memory when you’re actually holding stuff
• It’s easy to forget words and pictures;  easy to remember when you’re actually doing stuff;  touching.

They all felt that the use of reproductions for interactives was critical, as it was important to touch and feel.

On the Power of Imagination, Immersion and the Individual Story

•  Like with the Holocaust, you know that people died, you know these things happened, when you focus on one person, like Anne Frank hiding and stuff, it makes it real.
• I always find it interesting when I see pictures of a long time ago, to imagine—how things used to be.
• Being able to go in, see what it was like.
• The longhouse—that was awesome [at Ganondagan State Historic Site]
• I like real life examples—if you’re telling about how they dressed,  they had mannequins—the visual was really cool.
• You can find different answers if you look around.
• I always like it when an expert can tell you something about it.

Several comments highlighted what's often a shortcoming of local history museums.  The students very much wanted to understand local events in the context of a larger picture,  to understand, as one put it, "More the quieter events during a larger period of time."   That's something many local museums can be better at.

Most boring museum?

For one, it was an art museum.  “The most boringist thing I’ve ever gone to—they’re hanging on the wall.  Art is art.  You stand around with a whole bunch of people, it’s quiet, you can’t even talk to your other family members,  don’t talk, and don’t scuff your feet.”   For another, a sports hall of fame.  "My dad made me go. I just didn’t think anything was interesting. You just stand there and read."

 On the role of parents and museum-going

• My parents have never really gone anywhere of their own will, actually.
•  Went to Albany for basketball tournament—and went to state museum. She [my mother]  was really was interested—They [parents] don’t have as much time.  When we want to go, they go, so they just go too.
• There are some adults that are just naturally interested in history.
• My dad likes things in the advertisement, that say you can do something.

And how could the museum let you know what's going on?

• I don’t read the newspaper
• Facebook, my home page
• Posters and flyers, because kids go around town;  some kids don’t go on Facebook,  just coming to school you see posters

Facebook generated a fair amount of discussion.  They didn't quite see why a museum would be on Facebook or why they would want to like a museum there.  However,  they were more interested in the idea of seeing historic photos of where they live on Facebook and were most interested when we told them, if their parents granted permission, their group photo would be on the museum's page.  Said one boy, "You should make those blogs and facebook things more known! "

Our conversation also included their thoughts on the topics of greed, survival and ambition--the subject for another post.  But what I hope my readers take away from these great students (aside from the thought that parents have no lives of their own) is that these conversations are easy to do--and that they can easily become a part of a local history museum's work.  

And the how-to:  check out the resources at the Committee on Audience Research as a starting point.  It's critically important to be clear in your own mind about what you want to know and design questions that reflect that.  And it's even more important to LISTEN!  The goal in these sessions is to hear from the group, not to share what the museum's up to or the problems you have.   An evaluation professional can be immensely helpful in the process, but these simple conversations are something a museum of virtually any size can undertake on its own and still learn a great deal of useful information.

All of us on the project team agreed that we all learned some surprising things--and that these students now have a connection to the new exhibit.  It's a terrific two-way street that benefits all.  These simple conversations are just one way to prevent local history museums from becoming those dinosaurs.   Thanks, 8th graders for teaching me something new!

Feeling Bogged Down?

In a post last fall, I wrote about whether local history museums are in danger of becoming dinosaurs.  It became my most read post, by a huge margin, so obviously, there's a big concern about organizations that are bogged down, stuck in the mud.  But there are answers out there. Today,  I want to encourage small and mid-sized US museums--of all types-- to consider taking part in an easy, thoughtful way to get unstuck.  It's the American Association of Museum's Museum Assessment Program.

I've been a MAP reviewer to two separate organizations over the past year or so.  Very different places, very different organizations.  One was a very small history organization in a very small town in the mountainous west;  the other a historic house part of a larger organization in the Mid-West.  Both applied for the MAP program (which does not cost your organization anything) because they knew they could be better.  The MAP process is an easy application, followed by a self-study and a consultant visit.  In reviewing the self-study documents for my two museums, I found that it gave each organization a chance to really think about its work:  about what they do, who they involve, what they collect, and critically, from my perspective, how they connect with their communities.   And I hope my site visit gave them a chance to ask questions, to hear how other museums organize their work and connect with their communities, to brainstorm a bit and consider the "what ifs" that should be a part of all of our work.   The site visit isn't a judgment--it's a chance for you to work with an experienced museum professional and gain her perspective.  After the site visit,  the consultant completes a written report, which can provide important information and guidance as the museum moves forward.

(And by the way, as a reviewer, I've loved the chance to learn about a new museum, meet new colleagues, and see new parts of the country.)

You can apply for one of three MAP assessments:

• Organizational
  Collections Stewardship
  Community Engagement 

Each one has a slightly different focus--and a different focus on the roots and how your organization grew--and can grow. Check out the website to find out what's right for you.  Still confused?  The MAP staff is ready and willing to speak with you--just contact them at  map@aam-us.org or 202-289-9118.  But don't delay!  The postmark deadline for this year's applications is February 18.   

 Photos from Pie-Town, New Mexico,  FSA/OWI Collection, Library of Congress