US Museum App Review 2: AMNH

Last month I posted about some of the art museum apps I used while in the US back in August. Now I’ll follow up with a couple of apps I used at the American Museum of Natural History.

AMNH Explorer

The AMNH is quite a labyrinth and I found it tricky to navigate. It spans five levels over a large historic building plus a more recent extension (Rose Center and Hayden Planetarium).

One of the three (very similar-looking) stairwells in the AMNH's main building. Signage directs visitors to the special exhibitions and is supplemented by adhesive floor graphics that guide visitors to special exhibits as well as the cafe.
One of the three (very similar-looking) stairwells in the AMNH’s main building. Signage directs visitors to the special exhibitions and is supplemented by adhesive floor graphics that guide visitors to special exhibits as well as the cafe.

Visitor routing around the planetarium means you can’t easily retrace your steps if you find you’ve missed something (it once took me a couple of attempts to re-locate a gallery as I could not find a way to get back down a floor once I’d gone ‘up’ an escalator with no apparent ‘down’ counterpart). The main building has three main stairways and sometimes special exhibitions (entered through pre-paid timed tickets only) blocked logical pathways if you were trying to tackle the museum fairly systematically floor-by-floor (as I was).

This is where the Explorer apps came in – I used both the paper map and the app to assist my navigation of the complex space, as well as to ensure I hadn’t missed anything noteworthy.

IMG_0486
Home page of the AMNH Explorer app

One feature I liked about the Explorer app was the selection of tailored tours:

Special-interest tours of AMNH. I didn't follow any of these specifically, but did use the 'highlights' tour to double check I hadn't missed any key exhibits.
Special-interest tours of AMNH. I didn’t follow any of these specifically, but did use the ‘highlights’ tour to double check I hadn’t missed any key exhibits.

You could also select specific exhibits:

Search for exhibits by popularity, location, or alphabetically.
Search for exhibits by popularity, location, or alphabetically.
Featured exhibits included brief information and the ability to share, bookmark or mark as 'visited'.
Featured exhibits included brief information and the ability to share, bookmark or mark as ‘visited’.

In theory, the app also had the capacity to give you directions to a highlighted exhibit from anywhere inside the museum.  I say “in theory” because I didn’t have much luck getting this to work in practice – the app struggled to find my location*, and so defaulted back to giving me directions from the main entrance. Sometimes it was tricky to relate these directions back to where you actually were, particularly in the higher/deeper reaches of the museum. But I like the idea, even if the execution was less than perfect.

Beyond Planet Earth

This app was an accompaniment to a specific special exhibition that was showing while I was at AMNH. It’s pitched as an Augmented Reality app, although I don’t think I really grasped that that was the point at the time. The idea seemed to be to find and scan the 11 icons scattered around the exhibition (a good tactic to encourage looking at everything!). You could collect the set and then share them via social media.

Instructions for the app were under four headings: Explore - Collect - Learn - Share
Instructions for the app were under four headings: Explore – Collect – Learn – Share

When you scanned an icon a little animation came up on your screen, but calling them Augmented Reality is drawing a bit of a long bow if you ask me. . . But then maybe I just missed the point? Also some of them were a bit hard to scan properly in the low exhibit lighting so I became preoccupied by the task itself rather than the outcome.

An example of one of the info screens
An example of one of the info screens.

I’m pretty sure I wasn’t part of the target audience for this app; it seemed to be a game designed for kids rather than for older visitors with pretty good existing knowledge of the subject matter^ (which is fair enough!). I still enjoyed the ‘collecting’ challenge even if there wasn’t really much of a pay off beyond that for me.

In any case, any app was bound to be upstaged by the hero of the hour: the Mars Curiosity Rover, whose safe landing had been announced only a couple of days before my visit.

A full scale model of Mars Curiosity. The people give a sense of scale - it was far bigger than I imagined.
A full scale model of Mars Curiosity. The people give a sense of scale – it was far bigger than I imagined.

 

* I wonder if this was a technical glitch because I was using wi-fi rather than 3G.

^ I have a fond attachment to space exhibits: my first major exhibition project was the National Space Centre in Leicester, and I worked on a couple of exhibitions for them subsequently.

US Museum App Review: Barnes and MoMA

I made a point of trying out different museum smartphone apps during my US trip this July-August, and I’ll post some general comments and reviews of my experience using them over the next few weeks, in no particular order.

But first, a big golden rule for museum apps: No wifi, no point. OK slight hyperbole there – but it’s essential for international tourists and a huge convenience for everyone else. I had mobile data well and truly disabled to avoid any nasty roaming charges upon my return. If there wasn’t reliable wifi to enable me to download and use the app easily, I wasn’t going to use it. Even locals may have concerns about exceeding their data limits, and I’m starting to think that free wifi is becoming one of those facilities that people will increasingly expect.

Barnes Collection, Philadelphia

The great thing about this free app is that it duplicated content that was in the audio guide (pre-loaded on an ipod touch that you could hire for $5). And an audioguide was essential as there was no other labelling besides printed catalogues in each room which just listed the titles and artist. (And these didn’t exactly advertise their presence as the picture below attests. But I digress . . . )

Catalogue guides were set in little wells in the seat in each gallery – but, being a very similar colour to the walls, it took me a while to realise these existed, particularly since the galleries were busy and seats often occupied.

Artworks at the Barnes are displayed as ‘ensembles’ – groupings of works that Barnes had used as a pedagogical tool, with juxtapositions intended to show similarities or contrasts in colour, line, form, etc.

Interpretation of individual ensembles, as well as an explanation of the ensemble concept.

There was also interpretation of individual works, colour coded by room to aid orientation.

Interpretation of individual works

The app also featured maps to aid orientation and there was a tailored tour for families.

The app offers a choice between Masterworks and a Family Tour. The Masterworks was available in English, French and Spanish.

The app was intuitive to use and had a good level of detail, although I didn’t always listen to the audio descriptions to the end (not that they’re overly long at about 1-2 minutes, but I was just trying to get a flavour and hadn’t planned to spend more than a couple of hours or so at the museum). There was nothing that was really innovative or remarkable about its features, but this no-gimmicks approach means it did what it said on the box. There is nothing wrong with a functional and straightforward guide app.

MoMA

The MoMA is more of a combination of a brochure and guide in app form. There is a calendar feature that shows what is on today or on a date of your choosing, which would be more useful for locals than one-off visitors like me.

The app offers a few different ways of exploring the collection – by location, by audioguide number, or by searching for a particular work alphabetically. Detailed visual descriptions are provided for the benefit visually impaired visitors (or those seeking an in-depth looking experience).
The app allows you to search the collection by artist, title, or keyword. There is also an alphabetical list of art terms (that I’ve only just discovered but is a great way of decoding some of the specialist language you see in art labels).

The MoMA app is also offered in an impressive range of languages:

The MoMA app had many more features than I had the time, need or inclination to use during my visit (including podcasts and links to YouTube and further iTunes content). To be honest I can’t recall how much I used this app during my visit (months on it’s all a bit of a blur) compared to the standard paper guide map – I suspect not much but just because I was pretty museumed out by this stage of my trip.

You can’t miss it!

The blood donation centre in the city has recently moved to a new location, and this morning was my first visit to the new site. I knew roughly where it was (in one of the city centre arcades), but wasn’t sure of its exact location. I needn’t have worried.

As soon as I walked into the arcade, there was clear signage (both at height and on the floor) that confirmed that I was in the right place and headed in the right direction.

Floor stickers and a large overhead banner point directing you to the new donor centre.

The floor signage repeats on both sides along the full length of the arcade – important for busy times of day when crowds will obscure at least some of these.

More floor signage – I’m still heading the right way!

This continues until you reach the entrance of the facility – it’s clearly signposted and the large clear facade welcomes you to enter:

The entrance to the new Blood Donor Centre. Clear signage and a sense of arrival.

The net effect of this is that I arrived to my donation appointment on time, and in a relaxed frame of mind. Although I find blood donation trouble free, it’s still not something you want to arrive stressed at!

Inside the centre itself there are large graphic murals of different people who have benefited from blood donation as well as signage that explains the donation process and what your blood might end up getting used for. (I’ve avoided taking photos inside to respect the privacy of my fellow donors.) There were some nice touches here, although I was struck by the lack of ethnic diversity in the featured donation recipients.

This amount of signage probably won’t be around forever, as people get used to the new location. But at the moment it’s a great case study of how to get people to your door without stress, fuss or confusion.

Is your signage “crowd proof”?

Yes, yes, I know – I visited some of America’s most popular museums at the height of summer. If there was one thing I was going to have to contend with, it was crowds.

Crowds at the Museum of Modern Art, New York, attempt to catch a glimpse of ‘The Starry Night’ by Van Gogh

For those museums that are not at the top of every summer holidaymaker’s ‘must see’ list, the issue of too many people probably sounds like a happy problem to have. But not necessarily. The summer high season may well bring in valuable income, but all that crowding and queuing can lead to a less-than-satisfactory visitor experience – not to mention the maintenance costs associated with having hundreds of thousands of feet and fingers interacting with your building and your exhibits.

Now I should point out that I’m not very good with crowds and I’m an impatient queuer. Being short means I find it hard to navigate large numbers of people because my head is at shoulder height of many of the people around me. This physical characteristic combines with the psychological uncertainty that makes waiting in line torture at the best of times. In these circumstances I guess it was inevitable that some museums would have me in a twitching, toe tapping mess before I even crossed the lobby. At some point I decided to put this enforced waiting time to good use, and notice how well site signage was working under these very trying conditions.

Multiple desks, multiple lines, multiple signs

I arrived at the American Museum of Natural History just before opening time, and a fair few number of people had already begun to congregate on the front steps. The first bottleneck was having to clear security (In more or less every American museum there was security screening of some sort as you entered. An unfortunate sign of the times.). The next step was then to work out which ticket line was the right one to join. AMNH is one of the venues in the New York City Pass scheme (excellent value btw), which is meant to give you express entry although is sufficiently popular that in many cases it just means you get to join a shorter queue rather than walking right in. Security guards directed us to the right, and immediately to the right was a desk. But this wasn’t the right desk (still not quite sure what that desk was but the people behind it gave us vague onward directions), and it was a bit of a challenge to find where the right queue was and where it started.

The lobby of AMNH shortly after opening time. The green banner shows where the front of the line is, but where is the back?

As it turned out, the back of the queue was marked, clearly enough, by one of those standard signs you fit to tensabarriers. The problem is, there were sufficient number of people that this sign was obscured by people the majority of the time.

Ah – the back of the queue! It took a while for this sign to become visible among the throngs.

It really needed to be positioned a lot further back into the lobby than it was, or be reinforced by additional signage closer to the entrance. I encountered this issue on more than one occasion, where tensabarrier signs were positioned in such a way that they were obscured by people as the crowd overflowed beyond the anticipated area.

Now as I said at the outset, I was visiting in peak periods when visitor management strategies were being tested to their limit. So I don’t want to come across as too nit-picky about this (and I don’t mean to single out AMNH either). However, with that number of people arriving all at once, even the slightest bit of ambiguity or confusion is likely to make the bottlenecks even worse. So for me it was a reminder that our signage strategies and visitor sight lines should be tested under all circumstances – what makes sense in the relatively calm periods when we often plan signage may be far less obvious at peak times.

 

 

Audiences, Visitors, Participants

Sometimes you see the words “audience” and “visitors” being used more or less interchangeably. But to me they represent different concepts and there was a discussion on this point some time ago on the Museum Audience Insight blog. While there was some debate about this, I took the view that “audiences” was a broader term than “visitors”; audiences were passive recipients whereas the word “visitor” implied something more active (through physical or virtual presence). So, you try to reach audiences but they may or may not be listening. Visitors, on the other hand, have fronted up and expect to see something that interests them.

Thinking about this again more recently, I’ve noticed that there’s an interesting semantic distinction between the two. Readers familiar with their latin roots will not be surprised by the fact that that “audience” is derived from the word for hearing and listening, whereas “visitor” has its roots in videre, which means to see or to notice. And, at least in Western cultures, we tend to privilege what we see above what we hear (compare how we think of “eyewitness testimony” as opposed to “hearsay evidence”). So it’s not surprising that such assumptions have, knowingly or otherwise, crept into the way we conceptualise audiences as opposed to visitors.

But something is still missing. Visitors themselves can still be passive or active. In media, this has been described as a “lean-forward versus lean-back” model for the way people consume online content. “Lean back” is passive relaxation mode, while “lean forward” is active involvement in searching, creating and critiquing.* In a visitor experience context, I’ll draw upon Nina Simon’s work and characterise these “lean forwards” as participants. Just like there are many different types of visitation, Simon has characterised varieties of participation (but I won’t go into details here). Participation also has interesting etymological roots, having come from the Latin participium, itself borrowed from the Greek meaning “to share”.

So how do audiences, visitors and participants relate to one another?

At the simplest levels, Participants can be considered a subset of Visitors, who in turn are a subset of Audiences. In theory this could also be conceptualised as a progression, with an individual moving from Audience Member to Visitor to Participant. Is moving through this progression a meaningful measure of engagement? It it an unhelpful oversimplification? Do we need a more nuanced understanding of the relationship between audiences, visitors and participants?

*I recall attending a presentation that referred to “lean-forward” versus “lean-back” in heritage interpretation, and I *think* I remember who it was, but I’m not 100% sure. If it was you, let me know so I can link to it!

Museum App Review: MCA Insight

I recently visited the newly re-vamped Museum of Contemporary Art in Sydney. One of the recent additions to the visitor repertoire is the MCA Insight smartphone app, and I thought I’d give it a go.

The MCA Insight home screen

Choosing the ‘Explore’ option takes you to a clean and easy to use interface that lets you look for specific works or see a map of the gallery. It uses the Museum’s wi-fi to locate you so can also select the option for it to only show works that are near you. This works most of the time but in some cases it got a bit confused due to the location of gallery walls – sometimes you were physically near something you couldn’t actually get to.

The “Explore” screen

If you were looking for something in particular, you could use the app to locate it in the gallery. If you were already nearby the work this was helpful, but the lack of gallery labelling or signposting of locations beyond the level number and the location of walls could make it difficult if you were using this as your principal way to find your way around.

The location of a work on MCA Insight

As you walked around, the Insight app gave you more information about the works. In most cases it was nothing different from the label, but it was often easier to read the text on your phone while standing back to take a work in, rather than having to peer at the text on the wall. Overall I found the app quite easy and fun to use.

An example of a label on the MCA Insight app

I was a bit underwhelmed by the follow-up though. On the way you were able to collect works to add to ‘My Gallery’.  Then, if you enter your email address, the app promises to send a record of your visit. I think I was a victim of my own expectations here – I was expecting to receive something akin to what you get with MONA’s “O”. This sends you a wireframe model of the route you actually took through the museum as well as the artworks you selected. I was looking forward to seeing my meandering route through the museum rendered in 3D. However, what I got was a straightforward list of the works saved in My Gallery (mine is here), along with some additional details about the works and the artists. This was good enough (except in the cases where the only additional information was the page where you could purchase a $49.95 catalogue), but I was a bit disappointed because of my loftier expectations. I think it would be better if MCA re-worded how they describe the ‘record of your visit’ so that it’s a better description of what is actually offered by the app.

Unpacking “Experience”

Experience, n & v:
n: 1 – actual observation or practical acquaintance with facts or events
2 – knowledge or skill resulting from this
3 – an event regarded as affecting one (an unpleasant experience)
v: 1 – to have experience of, undergo
2 – feel or be affected by (an emotion, etc)
– Oxford English Reference Dictionary, 2nd Ed (2002)

Straightforward enough, huh? Well maybe not.

I’ve been reading  Experience, evidence and sense: the hidden cultural legacy of English by Anna Wierzbicka. In it, she argues that the word experience, particularly in the third sense of the noun described above, is a peculiarly Anglo-English concept that cannot be easily translated into other languages. Furthermore, this use of the word is a relatively recent development in the English language, not appearing until around the 18th century. Its rise coincides with the rise of empiricism in British philosophy (Hume, Locke), in contrast to the rationalism (Descartes, Leibniz) that continued to dominate philosophical thought in the rest of Europe.

The original sense of experience was something that built up over time: experience as a body of accumulated knowledge (e.g. an experienced tradesperson). However experience has expanded to also refer to something that can be, ahem, ‘experienced’ in the moment – it is sensory, self-aware and subjective, combining perceptions, thoughts and feelings. In other words we can have experiences, and we are aware that we are having experiences while we are having them. Experience has become a countable noun: we can have an experience going horseriding; this is a very different thing from gaining experience in horseriding. However, this relatively new and now ubiquitous use of the word experience apparently has no equivalent outside the English language:

“The word experience plays a vital role in English speakers’ ways of thinking and provides a prism through which they interpret the world. While its range of use is broad and includes a number of distinct senses, several of these senses have a common theme that reflects a characteristically Anglo perspective on the world and on human life. This is why the word experience is often untranslatable (without distortion) into other languages, even European languages” (Wierzbicka, 2010, p.31)

So I’m wondering what this means for the way we conceptualise and study Visitor Experiences in a global context. It’s a significant question, as numerous theories in tourism, education and other areas hinge on defining characterising the experience. Obviously, English speakers aren’t the only people to have ‘experiences’. But maybe we are the only linguistic group to conceptualise and describe them in the way that we do. So when we talk about experiences across cultures, how do we know we’re all talking about the same thing?

Pine and Gilmore's 1999 work set up a value chain that had commodities at the bottom, then goods, then services, then experiences. So now I'm left wondering how Anglo-centric this highly influential idea is . . .

“Given the central role of English in today’s science, including psychology, cognitive science, and neuroscience, it is particularly important that such culture-specific constructs are not absolutised and also that they be well understood” (Wierzbicka, 2010, p.30)

I’m probably late to the party on this – it’s likely others have already given this considerable thought. I’d appreciate links to additional resources on this point. Given ‘experience’ is a key word in my thesis title, it is probably worth my while mulling it over for a while.

References:
Pine, B. J. I., & Gilmore, J. H. (1999). The experience economy: work is theatre & every business a stage. Boston: Harvard Business School Press.
Wierzbicka, A. (2010). Experience, Evidence, and Sense: The Hidden Cultural Legacy of English. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

 

Evaluation: it’s a culture, not a report

The UK Museums Journal website has recently published the opinion piece Why evaluation doesn’t measure up by Christian Heath and Maurice Davies. Heath and Davies are currently conducting a meta analysis of evaluation in the UK.

Is this the fate of many carefully prepared evaluation reports?

The piece posits that: “[n]o one seems to have done the sums, but UK museums probably spend millions on evaluation each year. Given that, it’s disappointing how little impact evaluation appears to have, even within the institution that commissioned it.”

If this is the case, I’d argue it’s because evaluation is being done as part of reporting requirements and is being ringfenced as such. Essentially, the evaluation report has been prepared to tick somebody else’s boxes – a funder usually – and the opportunity to use it to reflect upon and learn from experience is lost. Instead, it gets quietly filed with all the other reports, never to be seen again.

So even when evaluation is being conducted (something that cannot be taken as a given in the first place), there are structural barriers that prevent evaluation findings filtering through the institution’s operations. One of these is that exhibition and program teams are brought together with the opening date in mind, and often disperse once the ribbon is cut (as a former exhibition design consultant, their point about external consultants rarely seeing summative reports resonated with my experience). Also, if the evaluation report is produced for the funder and not the institution, there is a strong tendency to promote ‘success’ and gloss over anything that didn’t quite go to plan. After all, we’ve got the next grant round to think of and we want to present ourselves in the best possible light, right?

In short, Heath and Davies describe a situation where evaluation has become all about producing the report so we can call the job done and finish off our grant acquittal forms. And the report is all about marching to someone else’s tune. We may be doing evaluation, but is it part of our culture as an organisation?

It might even be the case that funder-instigated evaluation is having a perverse effect on promoting an evaluation culture. After all, it is set up to answer someone else’s questions, not our own. As a result findings might not be as useful in improving future practice as they might be. So evaluation after evaluation goes nowhere, making people wonder why we’re bothering at all. Evaluation becomes a chore, not a key aspect of what we do.

NB: This piece was originally written for the EVRNN blog, the blog of the Evaluation and Visitor Research National Network of Museums Australia.

 

Audiences: a vicious cycle?

Are our audiences our audiences because that’s who we think our audiences are?

Let me explain. Say our audience appears to be from a particular demographic. So we tend to target that demographic in the way we position ourselves. In so doing, we create the impression that what we have to offer is primarily of interest to that particular demographic. Thus (surprise, surprise!) that is the demographic that primarily visits. But by setting ourselves up as being for a particular demographic in the first place, who are we excluding? Are we narrowing our appeal instead of broadening it?

Is there a circular logic to the way we see or audiences?

My thinking was first triggered by this article, which contends that by predominantly targeting families with kids aged 8-12, science museums are limiting their appeal to adults (this has a lot of implications for science and society, but I won’t cover that here – read the article!). Parents will say that they don’t go to the science centre anymore because their children have ‘outgrown’ it. Is it possible to ‘outgrow’ science? Can you imagine anyone saying that about an art museum?

Since then I’ve had similar conversations about other types of cultural heritage sites. If we make too many assumptions about who our audiences are, are we sending the message that we don’t have anything to offer anyone else?

It’s a tricky balance: saying you’re for “everyone” is too much like saying you’re for no-one in particular. But conversely, it would be prudent to challenge the assumptions we have about who our audiences are, and think more about who they could be.

 

PhD FAQs

A few weeks ago I completed the “Confirmation of Candidature” milestone of my PhD.

At my university at least, confirmation happens roughly one year into your candidature and is the first major litmus test of your PhD. Basically, when you pass your confirmation milestone you’ve managed to demonstrate to your Department that your proposed research is of sufficient scope, originality and feasibility to be “PhD-worthy”. After clearing this hurdle you can go forth into the world and start collecting your data (subject to ethics clearance of course – which I received earlier this week). So this seems to be as good a time as any to describe a bit about what I will be doing during my PhD and why.

What’s your PhD on?

My draft thesis title is “Design Factors in the Museum Visitor Experience”.  I’m interested in how visitors perceive different kinds of exhibition environments, and how this may influence what they notice, what they do, and how they describe their experiences. In a nutshell, does the exhibition environment make a difference, and if so, how?

How are you going to study this?

I’m taking what’s called a “sequential mixed-methods” approach. This means I’m using both qualitative and quantitative approaches to data collection, with each stage informing the next round of research. There are three main stages to my research:

  1. To start off, I’ll be accompanying a small number of people (about 20 I reckon) as they visit a range of different exhibition spaces. I’ll be asking them to “think aloud” their visit, telling me what they see, what they notice, what they think and feel about it and what attracts or repels them. This will all be audio recorded, as will a subsequent ‘debrief’ interview where we talk about and compare and contrast the different exhibition environments we visited. I’ll use the audio transcripts to identify key themes, patterns and commonalities in the way people describe exhibition environments.
  2. Based on these key themes, patterns and commonalities, I’ll design and refine a questionnaire to try to quantify these perceptual qualities. As part of the analysis I’ll apply a statistical technique called factor analysis to see what the important underlying factors are in the way people perceive exhibition environments.
  3. The final stage will be relating how visitors perceive the environment to how visitors respond to it, by measuring their behavioural, affective and cognitive responses. I’ll do this by combining the questionnaire I developed in the second stage with existing survey instruments for measuring visitor experience. I’ll also observe visitors and ‘code’ their behaviour to help me analyse the patterns. I’ll then use a statistical technique called path analysis to quantify the relationships between environment, affect, cognition and behaviour.

That’s the plan anyway. I’m sure things will evolve as my research progresses.

What made you decide to approach it that way?

The theory and methods I’ll be using have their roots in environmental psychology, which is the study of the interplay between people and their environment (in this context “environment” means any physical setting, built or natural). Environmental psychology has informed a lot of museum visitor studies, including the work of venerable researchers such as Stephen Bitgood, John Falk, and David Uzzell. So I feel I’m working within a strong academic tradition.

I’m also interested in applying some of the theories and techniques that have been developed in the study of retail environments, a field of study that can be considered to fall under the heading of “atmospherics”. Developed by Philip Kotler back in 1974, atmospherics contends that the (retail) environment influences consumer behaviour, and that this happens in fairly predictable ways. Kotler’s paper spawned a whole tranche of research in the marketing and retail spheres, which is now starting to find its way back to the museums sphere, at least from a marketing perspective (1, 2). My choice of methods is inspired by particular approaches that have been used in the study of retail environments (3, 4) that I think will also be applicable to museums.

Why are you studying this?

I spent several years planning museum and exhibition environments in collaboration with many talented and creative people. But because of the nature of the work at hand, we often never really had the chance to see our creations in action; test the assumptions upon which our designs were based. I want to see how much of our intuition was correct, and also see where we might have done things based on false assumptions. I’m hoping my findings will eventually improve the way we design exhibition environments.

Who are you studying with?

I’m studying through the School of Tourism at the University of Queensland, being supervised by Jan Packer and Roy Ballantyne. I was keen to work with Jan and Roy as they have a great reputation and strong publication record in visitor studies. And as luck would have it, they seemed happy enough to take me on (I have yet to ask them if they regret this decision . . . )

As I have firm roots in Adelaide, moving to Brisbane (a two-hour flight away) to be on campus was not an option. But I’ve been lucky to secure some desk space closer to home, at the South Australian Museum. This will be my principal study site.

So how is it all going? Have you finished your thesis yet?

This question is probably the most infuriating one for a PhD student to hear. By way of analogy, it’s a bit like asking the Colorado River “how’s that canyon thing you’re making going?” And from the outside, PhD research can seem positively geological in the timeframes involved. A lot may be happening, but it’s at a slow and deliberate pace – this means that months can go by without any tangibly new progress to report.

So over the next couple of years at least it will be a long chipping away at my research problem – collecting data, analysing it, refining my hypotheses, collecting more data, doing more analysis, rinse & repeat. Of course, during this period I hope to have preliminary findings that I can publish as papers or present at conferences. But a whole thesis is quite a while away yet.

In short, please don’t ask me this until AT LEAST early 2014.

There is obviously a lot more to my proposed research than I can cover in a mere blog post. But if you have any questions or comments, please get in touch – challenges and critiques are all part of it . . .

UPDATE: This research proposal was recently featured in April edition of the Museum Education Monitor. Online version available here.