When does interpretation cross the line from mediation – providing a hook or a link between audiences and content – into interference: “over-interpretation”, where it’s simply getting in the way of a meaningful experience? Does this line shift depending on the audience? On the subject matter? Whether its science or its art?
A presentation I went to a few weeks ago challenged me to think about these questions. A curator from an art gallery background was sharing some findings from a study tour to the US and the UK. One of the images was from an exhibit familiar to me as one I’d seen at the (then) newly refurbished Kelvingrove Museum in Glasgow:
Now back in 2006 when I saw this exhibit, I thought it was a pretty neat idea. Superimposed over the 19th century painting “The Marriage of Convenience” by William Orchardson are three small screens inside thought bubbles. A touchscreen interface allows visitors to fill in the bubbles emanating from the three protagonists in answer to the question “What are they thinking?”.
Over the years I’ve seen this exhibit put forward by interpreters as a way of engaging family visitors with art. As an example of “best practice”. Now here I was, listening to someone someone going beyond critique and essentially presenting it as an object of ridicule. I decided to explore this further in the Q&A afterwards. What was it about this exhibit that so attracted her ire?
Essentially it boiled down to the fact that it was visually intrusive [1] and unnecessary to interpret a painting whose Victorian-era morality tale was “not rocket science” to comprehend. She considered it an insult to visitors’ intelligence. Furthermore (and more to the point in my opinion), apparently visitor feedback hadn’t been positive. However, no data was presented to support this claim so it’s hard to know if it’s based on an exhibit evaluation or just the criticisms of a more vocal minority.
I think a couple of points of context need to be raised here. This exhibit was displayed in what was intended as a family gallery. It wasn’t targeted at arts officionados who may be instantly aware of Victorian symbolism in art. I saw (and appreciated) the exhibit as something that was intended to be a hook for visitors who may otherwise not give the piece a second glance. It seems I’m not the only person who saw it that way, as this piece vividly describes:
One of the most amusing interactivities–I could have stood there all day–focused on William Orchardson’s “The Marriage of Convenience.” Most visitors would give this painting–wherein a rich old man dines with his young, beautiful and profoundly bored wife as a dubious butler attends–a quick glance and walk on, dismissing it as a dreary 19th century remnant. But Kelvingrove (which by this point seems to be staffed by Monty Python) had placed thought bubbles next to the painting’s three figures’ respective heads. “What are they thinking?” we were asked, and as passersby typed away, the thought bubbles changed…”This isn’t working out the way I planned.”…”I thought he’d be dead by now “… “The master appears to have made a big mistake.”…. A “dull, boring” relic suddenly sprang to life–and became as contemporary as today’s trophy wives.
So at this point it might be easy to dismiss the art curator’s critique as missing the point of the exhibit and reinforcing the myth that art can somehow “speak for itself” even to those who don’t speak the language. That would be a convenient way of dismissing the criticism, but I’m not sure it’s quite so simple as that. As Nicole Deufel pointed out recently, we often accept interpretive “best practice” on the basis of flimsy evidence. That’s why I’d be keen to see if there was any evaluation of this exhibit and what it said. Perhaps this exhibit doesn’t do what it set out to. For me the visitor is the ultimate arbiter and arguing amongst ourselves is going to generate more heat than light.
Having said that, there are some points about subject matter and learning styles that warrant some further thought and discussion. Firstly the issue of interpreting art. I’ve heard art curators use the term “over-interpretation”, but interestingly I’ve never heard anyone lay the same accusation at the feet of science exhibits. Coming from a science background, I get the sense that there is an implicit assumption among “art” people that art is inherently understandable, you just need to take the time to look and think for long enough. And all that pesky interpretation is just “shouty” paraphernalia that gets in the way.
Another point of difference is how much interpretive “mediation” different kinds of visitors feel they need. Again revealing my science training, I tend to like knowing “the answer”. So I can feel cast adrift with art, because I don’t feel “the answer” is being made available to me. Now sometimes I know there is no answer, and that’s kind of the point. I can appreciate that. But other times I do wonder if there *is* some point that I’m supposed to get but I’m missing. And that just makes me feel stupid.
Bottom line is that our needs as visitors are not all the same. As exhibit planners we need to understand, respect and accommodate these differences, which might sometimes mean doing things that satisfy our target audiences but drive us personally nuts.
[1] In the discussion it also emerged that there may be conservation issues with the way the exhibit is installed in relation to the painting, and also the hardware now looks clunky and dated some 7 years (and an app revolution) later. These critiques, while legitimate, are tangential to the debate here.
Regan – an interesting choice of topic, and one fraught with polarities and posturing. In the spirit of sharing, and of recognising that the ‘window’ one looks through can be a significant restriction to understanding, I offer these few semi-random comments.
It is interesting to note that there is a huge landscape of reasons, obvious and covert, that exist as the background to any critique of an interpretive / communication approach taken in an exhibition. Not all of these are founded in a desire to have a non-human intermediary communicating and illuminating the artefact, object, phenomena or art piece. Galleries have traditionally used the guide to supply much of the information about any exhibit. That said, static signage is, at best, a tool to deliver a few clear ideas and commentaries. In a static form it can never give sufficient information nor background to allow the non-expert visitor to engage with the exhibit in the way a guide or an educator might. Most visitors simply won’t read it. Face to face interpretation of an exhibit by an expert or trained educator is often a far more powerful tool to generate understanding and interest in the exhibit. New digital technologies can augment a piece but, again, they can become intrusive to the aesthetic environment of a gallery and the depth of information supplied can bewilder those users who are unfamiliar with the technology or the content – no matter how well they are configured.
Its that delicate balance of supplying enough to capture the importance of any object as a gateway for information (its context, how it was created, its aesthetic, its significance, its hidden meaning or importance, why its being displayed, etc.) and keeping the attention and interest of the visitor. For example, some visitors only want to see the Dinosaurs because they were big and ancient – and somewhat ‘cool’. Getting visitors to learn about Mesozoic ecosystems while they marvel at the skeletons is the real challenge. As a cautionary note – one always has to question how much information is really needed in order to engage the visitor. Are our aims too ambitious at times? I don’t know the answer to this and can only say it needs a solid grounding in testing, but also in keeping a balanced approach to assembling the interpretive plan. Sometimes a curatorial imperative can overwhelm the methods of communication available. I am guilty of that myself. On the other hand one doesn’t want to ‘dumb down’ the exhibition either.
My own experience with object interpretation suggests that an intimate, thoughtful, interactive and educational (by stealth) approach provided by the human guide can provide illumination, and what visitors feel is a unique experience, in spades. Its not the only way to get there, but it has an immediacy that can overcome a visitors innate personal barriers to engagement.
Hi Andrew,
You are right in that human guides can offer a depth and responsiveness that technology cannot (at least not yet). Skilled guides can effortlessly tailor their “pitch” to the audience they happen to be standing in front of.
Having said that, some visitors can be reluctant to interact with guides, at least at first. There can be a sense of feeling put “on the spot” (I know I can get that feeling and for that reason I often prefer to do my own thing). Francesca Monti observed something similar with activity tables at the British Museum (http://www.ucl.ac.uk/silent-objects). If no other visitors were at the tables already, visitors were often reluctant to approach. Another person already present helped break the ice.
I think you may have helped me solve something I’ve been grappling with for awhile. Thanks for the ping! Hopefully blog post will resolve itself soon.
Regarding best practices; a thoughtful colleague once said that best practices should be renamed “least objectionable practices” for precisely the reason you bring up. You won’t get in trouble if you follow them, but what else will you achieve?
Hi Ed,
This discussion makes me wonder how easily an exhibit can make the trajectory from “someone who sounds like they know what they’re talking about thought it was cool” to “example of best practice” to “exhibit dogma”, without much critical reflection or reference to actual visitor data. We all have a natural tendency to extrapolate from “what I like/hate” to “what people like/hate” without checking our assumptions and biases. I like to think I’ve still got enough of the scientist in me that I change my view in light of new data. If good quality visitor research told me that an exhibit I liked actually sucked, I’d have to conclude that I was wrong 🙂
“I’ve heard art curators use the term “over-interpretation”, but interestingly I’ve never heard anyone lay the same accusation at the feet of science exhibits. Coming from a science background, I get the sense that there is an implicit assumption among “art” people that art is inherently understandable, you just need to take the time to look and think for long enough.”
I find it really interesting that recent conversation in the field seems to equate art and science and presumes that it is possible to treat art and science in the same way. Although STEAM is a really interesting and worthwhile way to think about exhibits, I feel we need to examine it and reflect on what it actually means much more than we have. Full disclosure is that I fall much closer to the art side of the spectrum than the science side. And, perhaps a spectrum is a useful way to look at this topic in today’s age of increasingly accurate scientific technology.
Art & subjectivity Science & objectivity
I don’t agree that there is an assumption among “art people” that art is inherently understandable, although I can see how it might feel that way to a “science person.” I think that to someone who is looking for “the answer,” art interpretation can force you outside of your comfort zone. Art interpretation challenges people to examine art through multiple perspectives and from many different paradigms. It does not typically validate one interpretation as correct and others as wrong so long as the interpretations are genuinely based on experiencing artwork.
On the contrary, it is easy to have a genuine experience with a science concept and walk away with a wrong interpretation. Centrifugal “force” is a great example. For me, science interpretation can be a big turn off because science demonstrations and interactives often leave me feeling like, “that was a cool magic trick.” In my limited experience designing science demonstrations, I get frustrated because all the variables have to be “just so” in order for the viewer to accurately see the cause and effect, and the demonstration’s “pure” environment rarely translates to our messy real world. It feels like science exhibits have to be “over-interpreted” in order to get their big ideas across.
As you said, visitors are not all the same, and it seems the real problem lies in the mindset that we, as museum educators/ exhibit designers, have only one chance to interpret an artwork or science concept for our visitors. This brings to mind the Smithsonian’s recent resetting of the Hope diamond. For approximately a year, the Hope diamond was removed from its traditional setting and placed in a new custom setting. Museums like the Smithsonian have the privilege of long term thinking. They aren’t afraid that their visitors will only have one chance to see the Hope diamond (even thought that might be true of many visitors), and that one chance has to be interpreted with “best practice.” I liked the spirit of the Hack the Museum Camp that Nina Simon ran at MAH where museum professionals experimented with a new way to interpret their permanent collection that was on view for a limited time. They were not claiming that their interpretation was the “best” or even that it was very good. They were experimenting and, from what I’ve read, came up with interpretations that were extremely interesting to them at the time.
I think we need to encourage visitors to make repeat visits and to see our exhibits with and without many types of interpretation each time they come. We need to make our Museums more accessible and our interpretations more flexible. We also need our technology to help our visitors customize our interpretations to their preferences.
Very thought-provoking comment, thanks!
What I think we’re exploring here is the vast middle ground between what I’ll call “satisfying but superficial” experiences on the one hand and “challenged to rejection” on the other. I think the idea of challenging interpretation is great, but I’m still trying to square this with what I know about visitor psychology: challenge in the wrong way and you get a short-circuit to rejection long before you get enlightenment.
I see it like the intellectual equivalent of rock climbing – sitting back and letting yourself get pulled up defeats the purpose, but at the same time you’d have to be pretty hard core to attempt it without safety ropes and a harness. What are the interpretive “safety ropes” we need to provide to encourage and empower visitors to take the climb to the next level? Or is it less about “safety ropes” and more about selling the view once you’ve reached the summit? That’s going to depend on the individual I think.
You’ve touched upon something with the “one-shot” mentality we often take. I think this *might* be changing, but the “do it once, do it right” approach is still very much what funders tend to expect. I think we are still more geared towards the “grand opening” model than the iterative, “perpetual beta” that Nina Simon among others advocate.
I agree with your final paragraph, but I think we need to back this up with evaluation and research about what works, what doesn’t, and what works but in different ways / for different reasons than we anticipated. Otherwise we’re just experimenting in a vacuum, or will revert back to extrapolations from our own assumptions.
Interesting thoughts! Thanks for responding.
I guess I was more trying to make the point (which certainly does needs to be researched and evaluated – totally agree with you there!) that art and science objects/concepts need to be interpreted differently.
Both kinds of interpretations absolutely need to include appropriate scaffolding, or as you called it rock climbing safety ropes. I just think that rock climbing safety ropes are effective when I’m rock climbing. When I am sky diving, I’d much rather have a parachute.
I love these debates …oh, pardon me … conversations … and hate them all at the same time. I feel all at once it’s like tribal warfare and a clutch of chefs (half of whom come from the same school) debating how my brandied-orange and Madagascar vanilla bean brulee is better than your brandied-orange and Madagascar vanilla bean brulee. I am also increasingly frustrated that the debate seems to be ‘art museum aesthetic’ vs. ‘science museum practicality’ like there is no other species of museum and that we as cultural institutions should be listening to critics and not mixing it all up … I mean, really?
That said, welcome to my world – the world of the cultural heritage museums (which never seem to fit into or have a place at the table in these discussions). A museum that is expected to be all things to all people at all times: part learning, part spiritual retreat, part community memory keeper and part pure entertainment experience. We are mere mortals incapable of retreating into neither the Haute Culture world of art nor the practical facts and intrigue of science. No, us poor little old cultural heritage Franken-museums require a jam-packed unholy amalgamation of research, pretty things to look at, fact, reflection, clinical data, spectacle, theatre, awe, nostalgia and hands-on-touchy-feely all wrapped-up in family-friendly clever design and provocative storytelling fit for cradle to grave audiences from every conceivable cultural background and with reading comprehension levels from ‘huh, what?’ to double PhD. So, for me at least, I get a chuckle when reading about trying to find that ‘balance’ between ‘subjectivity and objectivity’.
Boy it felt good to get THAT all out.
What I really wanted to chime in on is: can we PLEASE stop referring to the enigmatic figment (spectre?) of best practice? It doesn’t exist; and when it does exist it is nothing more than a barrier to innovation, creativity and access. It doesn’t exist because it is different for each institution, for each audience, for each object and for each situation; nothing more than modern day code for status quo. As Mike Myatt put it in ‘Best Practices –Aren’t’ (Forbes, 15 August 2012):
“I have actually come to cringe every time I hear someone use the phrase in an authoritarian manner as a justification for the position they happen to be evangelizing. One of the most common reasons for pursuing best practices in a given area is to avoid having to “reinvent the wheel.” Think about it like this – if nobody ever reinvented the wheel, they’d still be made from stone. One of the most difficult areas for executives to wrap their mind around is how to unlearn legacy based thinking. Maintenance doesn’t lead you forward – creation does.”
I know I have just unleashed the wrath of every curator and conservator on the planet – so bring on the torrent of how wrong I am and how this may apply for the business model but not the arts and cultural preservation model … but the truths still translate. When we think about reinventing how we engage and how we create broader more inclusive access and how we build new audience we need to reinvent how we go about our business and who we are going about our business for. To make a short answer long – I totally agree with you Regan, we are not here to develop exhibits and experiences for our selves we are here for our communities and our visitors.
Hi Padraic,
Well said. And thanks for flagging up the conspicuous absence of references to cultural heritage / social history museums in this debate. It’s something I realised when I was reading Ed Rodley’s post that made reference to this one (I’ll link back to close the loop: http://exhibitdev.wordpress.com/2013/11/03/tilting-at-windmills-part-two/). As I alluded to in the comments there, in mainstream media, “museum” seems to become normalised to “art museum”. Science museums might get a guernsey in the “activities for children” bit. Cultural heritage often defies neat compartmentalisation so ends up getting left out the tent.
What great reading! I’ve copied your statement and forwarded it to my classmates in a museum management course I’m taking. Thanks for your insight, honesty, and humor. Shannon
Can I just say – I find this all slightly hysterical. In my view best practice is absolutely important AS a starting point, a set of rules and guides you need to learn about and understand about when you are starting out as a curator (or whatever) and bear in mind throughout your career. It might help you avoid some pretty awful things as well – like that exhibit at kelvingrove…
In terms of mediation and intrusion – can I also just say that one of the great things about digital innovation is that you can offer visitors a range of experiences and they can choose if they want to float through with minimal interpretation or really get engaged. AND you can never determine the flow. Visitors are never going to walk through an exhibition in the way you plan and so from the start you shouldnt be designing the content or the 3d space in this way.
Hi,
I’m not sure what you mean by “hysterical”. But it is an interesting choice of word given its etymology (I tend to avoid it for precisely that reason – but I digress . . .) 😉
I agree that digital innovation offers opportunities for visitors to tailor their experiences in a way that simply wasn’t possible only a few years ago. However, you say “visitors are never going to walk through an exhibition in the way that you plan”. Statements like this come across to me as sounding like “we can’t get it perfect so let’s not even bother”. I can’t agree with this. The work of Steve Bitgood in museums and others in the retail design field have demonstrated that design *can* influence behaviour (albeit imperfectly, of course). This doesn’t necessarily mean we should be designing by recipe, if that’s what you think I’m implying here. Far from it. The crux of my argument is that we always need to check our assumptions with what actually happens with visitors on the gallery floor. And when that turns up a surprise, we need to try and learn from it.