Reading List: Things Great and Small: Collections Management Policies (2nd ed)

Sometimes I'm so ashamed by how long books sit on my bookshelf before I read them. I see them in the store or online, I get really excited, I buy them, and then... I just don't have time to read them. I bought this book when it was new (2018) but didn't read it until this month. Yikes! At least nothing's too outdated yet!

This is a nice overview of collections management policies - different types of policies you should have, what you should take into account, why to have policies, who should be involved in writing or approving different policies, all that good stuff. It also includes topics like risk management, intellectual property, and ethics.

If you've read a lot about collections, collections management, and policies, there's nothing really new in here; but this is a great synopsis of collections management policies if you haven't read a bunch others, or a nice one-stop-shop of all the good stuff to get you going.

Plus, John Simmons is funny. If you're on any collections e-lists with him, you likely know his December holiday-themed/museum-management-themed poems. (I was disappointed, though, that the funny wasn't strong throughout. He starts off well, with sample policies from the House of Victoriana, the Institute of Contrafactual Science, and the Museum of Mediocre Art, but then some of their sample policies are just like regular sample policies and the funny is gone.)

 

The upsides:

• A nice one-stop-shop of all the good stuff to get you going on your Collections Management policies
  
• Good for newcomers to the Collections Management game
  

The downsides:

• If you have other books about Collections Management, you might not need this.
• There are a number of "When Policy Meets Reality" call-out boxes scattered throughout the book, but a lot of them seem irrelevant. They're funny or interesting or astounding, but they're not always helpful. If you try hard, you might force yourself to stop and think about what you would do if you were in that situation, but there's not a lot of insight offered. And others just make you think "Huh, that's... interesting" and you move on. It's some wasted space that could have either been used for more helpful info, or could have just been cut and made the book a bit smaller. Similarly, a lot of the images seem unnecessary, and removing them could have made the book smaller. (I keep saying "smaller" because it's a tall and wide book - 11" H x 8.5+" W)
  

  

Overall: This is definitely worth a read, unless you Absolutely Know Everything about collections management and policies. Even if you think you know a lot, you still might get some new insights. Or you might gain a new favorite reference book.

 

Things Great and Small: Collections Management Policies, 2nd edition, 2018

John E. Simmons

220 pages (and it's a tall and wide book, too), including references/bibliography/other reading, and appendices with AAM's Code of Ethics, AAM's Accreditation Commission's Standards Regarding Collections Stewardship, various laws and regulations that affect collections

Reading List: Getting Caught Up

Hey, I read a museum-related book! Lookatme! (Yikes). I'm trying to make more of an effort to read museum- or nonprofit-related books again (Didn't I say that before, too?), and this year I've read five already! ... Okay, some of it has been because it's been painfully slow for me at work lately, and I've had to create projects to keep myself occupied. One of those was finally reading a bunch of books our old Executive Director gave my then-manager when she retired and cleared out her office. My then-manager gave the books to me to store for our department, and now that I've had NOTHING to do, I decided it was finally time to read them!

Book #1 was The AAA Way to Fundraising Success: Maximum Involvement, Maximum Results, which I really learned about in a webcast I watched (DonorPerfect Community Conference 2025, Robbe Healey "Stay the Course: Individual Giving Tactics for Changing Times"). The book sounded useful, and the cover the presenter showed started to seem really familiar... and then I realized it was because it was one of the books our Director had given us that I'd been wanting to read! So I dove into it.

The book is super short but super useful. It helps you think about how to structure your organization's culture of philanthropy and how everyone can be involved. It's specifically focused on getting your board involved in cultivating donors and partnerships, but it can be applied to anyone. 

Kay Sprinkel Grace says there are 3 types of people needed: Ambassadors and Advocates to talk up your cause, make connections, and lay the groundwork, then the Askers who do the actual asking for a donation. She describes the function of each of the roles and explains what personal traits make for a good fit for that role, and also gives ideas of how the different roles interact and work together.

This was such a fantastic way to show that fundraising isn't only about asking for money; it's about getting the word out and building relationships, too. And we can all play a part in that. Someone may not feel comfortable asking someone for $$$, but can talk up the cause they believe in.

Book #2 was Asking: A 59-Minute Guide to Everything Board Members, Volunteers, and Staff Must Know to Secure the Gift, by Jerold Panas. This was a quick, easy-to-read reference book, yet it felt like it was giving you everything you need to know. He lays out the cultivation and solicitation process step-by-step, from identifying potential donors to writing an introductory letter (I'm not sure how much of that is still relevant today) and making an introductory phone call to having a first conversation (but not asking for money yet) on through to the Ask and follow up. Panas gives great tips, makes it all seem really easy, and even gives advice for when the donor says no or when you only think they've said no. Like The AAA Way to Fundraising Success, this would make a great reference book to have handy to keep fundraisers on track and motivated.

I'll mention book #3 for the year quickly because while it wasn't exactly useful, it was fun to read: The Principles Of Museum Administration, George Brown Goode's 1895-ish treatise of the workings of museums (reprint purchased on Amazon). It was really interesting to read as a historical record of how early museums in the U.S. were perceived and run, and how much of what he wrote is still relevant today!

I originally hadn't planned on writing about The Principles of Museum Administration because it was so short, and hadn't even thought about writing about the fundraising ones, in part because I've been reading them at work (different environment, so I didn't make the mental connection between reading and blogging) and in part because they're not museum-related. However, museums obviously need to fundraise, so even though these books aren't about collections or exhibits or other museum-specific areas, they are relevant to museums. 

So there you go! Museum- and nonprofit-related books I've been reading in 2026. I've got two more that I've finished reading recently, so stay tuned for those reviews!

Reading List: Museums 101 by Mark Walhimer

"101" usually implies a basic-level introduction to a subject: Sociology 101, Math 101, etc. Reviewers on Goodreads also refer to this as an introduction, either for themselves or for their students, and I came across it as a book being used in a Museums Studies class. As a very basic introduction to museums and museum management, this book is fine.

But, if you know nearly anything about museums, this book is not really for you, unless you just want it to skim, or maybe get a few ideas, or to have on hand to give to someone who is new to museums. If you've been around museums, you're not really going to get much out of this.*

And if you're new to museums, I don't think I'd recommend reading this unless you're reading it for a class and have a teacher to walk you through it. There are places where Walhimer doesn't really explain jargon he uses; there are places with mistakes (he refers to a 503(c)(3). I googled 503 instead of 501 in case a 503 is a less-common tax status that I have never heard of, and every result was for 501(c)(3)s. A museum newbie without a guide might be confused); and through the majority of the book, I felt like I was putting things together on my own, based on my experience, rather than him doing a good job of explaining them, their connections, or their relevance. 

* That said, there are some things I found interesting or things I didn't know or things to keep in mind for the future. But overall, eh. 

The upsides:

• This covers a little of everything involved in museums: where to put your museum, creating exhibits, collections access, building an integrated atmosphere, ... on and on. 
• Early chapters have "Next steps" at the end of the chapters (such as organizations to look up or a suggestion to visit a museum in your area). These are cool for those just getting into museums; I wish he'd continue them after those first few chapters, though. They can get your brain jogging on things to do or other institutions to visit for ideas. Granted, he includes a lot of examples of museums in most of his chapters, so you could figure out on your own what the "next steps" should be to research a topic further, but I wish he'd continued it for consistency and for that extra push of "No, really. I'm not just blowing smoke in the chapter when I name-checked that museum. Look them up!" (especially because a number of times it felt like it was name-checking of how great he is, or just how many different museums he could list).
• Short chapters - he gives you only the very basic information.
• He provides resources, sample documents, and additional reading. (The additional reading can come in handy for anyone who wishes that maybe this were Museums 102 or 103, and not 101.)
• There's a website associated with the book where you can download the above resources (rather than just looking at the not-so-great-quality scan that's in the book) as well as some not included in the book.

The downsides:

• Typos and mistakes! Some are little (quite a few times of missing words), some are ones that you can figure out but are still annoying (he refers to Telsa Motors and Telsa Museum in a paragraph; like the 503(c)(3), I googled these just in case there's something I'm unaware of, but no, every result was actually for Tesla), some are bigger but not relevant (Bill Gates wasn't the founder of Microsoft; he was the co-founder; but if I can't trust you to get that right, what else are you getting wrong? [see also Telsa and 503(c)(3)]), and some are more important, like claiming your organization can be a 503(c)(3). 
• There are times -- especially when talking about finances -- that I think he's trying to give the reader a realistic picture of what it takes to plan and run a museum, but it comes across more as "Do not do this! You can't do this!" 
• The index isn't very helpful. I found myself writing in a number of topics (like endowments), and although he mentions mission statements a few times, it's not listed in the index. He says in the introduction that you can either read the whole book, or just the chapter(s) related to your questions, but when topics like mission statement are scattered throughout, including in a chapter about a museum's physical building (!), but not in the index (!), you basically have to read the whole book to answer your question about mission statements. 
• Some of the organization felt odd. Not only does he talk about mission statements in the chapter about the museum's building, but he also talks about background checks for board members in the chapter about collections care. I do see how these can be linked (your building should represent the museum's mission and tone; you want to be able to trust your board members with your collections [and finances]), but why aren't these in their own chapters? Or with a better index so you know to read the chapter about buildings if you want stuff about mission statements and the chapter on collections so you know to give your board members a background check! 
• I didn't understand some of his charts and references.
• Short chapters - in most cases, he only gives you the very basic information.

Overall:

Eh. It can't hurt for seasoned professionals to read this. It does include topics like building a culture at your organization, both an internal culture and with your audience; museum feasibility studies; project management; and a questionnaire to give artifact donors. So yeah, there's probably a chance even people who work in museums will find something new or memorable in the book.

For people new to the museum field, there are other books you can read. This does have the benefit of being sort of a one-stop-shop for very basic information about running a museum, but I don't know how useful it would really be to anyone starting out in the industry, since you'll find most of this information elsewhere and the book's writing and organization seem scattered. 

The writing also felt outdated, even though it's from 2015 and does include current topics like sustainability. Other places felt like he was writing about the old way of thinking of museums, though, like pay, treatment of employees, things like that. 

If you know about museums already, don't waste your money buying this. If you really want to have it as a resource, look for it at a used bookstore or someone cleaning out their library. 

If you don't know about museums already... there are other places to find enough of this information that I would suggest you not waste your money, either. Check it out from a library, instead! 

Museums 101, 2015

Mark Walhimer

160 pages of text, 50 pages of sample documents (14 documents), approximately 5 pages of Bibliography

Reading List: How to Close a Museum: A Practical Guide by Susana Smith Bautista

Here we go, the thing museum people don't want to talk about: closing your museum.

Sadly, we know it happens, though, right? In general, not every museum that has ever opened is still open today, and especially given what's happened in the world the past two years, we know museums are closing. There have been some webinars and conference sessions (such as "What Happens When Museums Close" at the 2021 American Alliance of Museums' virtual conference and "Managing the Afterlife of a Collection" at the New England Museum Association's 2021 virtual conference), a handful of articles and blog posts, AASLH's "What's Next? A Guide to Museum Transitions and Closures" (2021), and AAM's collection of resources, but now there's also a book to help you through the hard stuff.

The first thing I really took from this book is to hire a lawyer. Even just reading this as a guide for information, some of this stuff is hard. Plus, every state is different about what you're required to do to close your museum, so get a lawyer! And as Bautista points out, even if you have a lawyer on staff or on your Board of Directors, get an outsider so there are no questions of conflicts of interest.

The "Above and Beyond" chapter includes ethical and moral questions to consider, to go along with all of the legal questions you need to answer and rules you need to follow. What I especially appreciate about this chapter is that it reminds the reader of the duties we have to the public -- holding collections in the public trust, programming for the public's good and education, partnerships we have with our community -- and asks you to think about these ethics and morals as you plan how to close your museum (who you tell, when you tell them, where your collections go, etc.). It makes the book be about more than what you need to do, but also adds what you should do.

There's also a chapter with a step-by-step Closing Plan, but you definitely need to read the whole book first, before you actually begin your shutdown. Some of these steps require a lot of planning ahead of time, before they can be implemented as part of the closing procedures, so don't try to work through the step-by-step section in real time. 

The upsides:

• The appendix of sample documents and plans
• Brainstorming suggestions, such as potential partnerships and organizations to give your collections/assets to.
• Case studies of other museums that closed give interesting things to think about, including sometimes how not to do things. 
• Throughout the book are tips about planning that can help you avoid being in a position where you need to think about closing your museum, so really, everyone should read this, even if you're new or not yet thinking about closing. (Like they say, plan ahead of time, when you have a clear head, rather than waiting until you're panicked.) 

The downsides:

• This is not an all-in-one, do-it-yourself guide. You'll need help: legal help, help from your Board of Directors, help from the staff. But that's not a downside of the book; this book isn't meant to have you do it all, and it's probably not very possible for one person to do it all. If anything, it's a downside of the situation.

Overall: Yes! At times it felt like this book was skimming the surface, but I don't know that it's possible to get in-depth enough. As said above, each state -- and each situation -- is different, so there's no way Bautista could cover everything. But this will certainly get you started if you're in that "We have to close" crunch (and even if you're not yet, or hope to never be). 

How to Close a Museum: A Practical Guide, 2021 

Susana Smith Bautista

133 pages of text, approximately 60 pages of Appendix (sample documents, etc.) and Bibliography

Reading List: Active Collections

Hey! It's me again! Back with another book review!

I first heard about Active Collections, edited by Elizabeth Wood, Rainey Tisdale, and Trevor Jones, at a few of the virtual conferences I attended last year, and then later by a Collections professional who spoke to my Museum Studies class in the spring, and every presentation that centered around "We read Active Collections and incorporated it into our work" was absolutely eye-opening to me. The way the presenters spoke about the book and their new ways of working based on it was just... against everything I'd learned doing collections, but sounded so groundbreaking and inspirational. I was both aghast and intrigued. 

To start, essays here come from a range of disciplines, not just collections: there are historical aspects, psychological ("Why do we hoard? Why do we find it difficult to get rid of things?"), decolonization, consumerism, climate change... some things you might have realized on your own and things you might have never thought about before.  

The foreword prepares you that the essays will show how the field is "rethinking collections issues" and tells the reader that "we need flexible and practical solutions to managing collections" (xvii). And some of the rethinking is also reimagining and re-envisioning, and really does need to include a warning: there are some really creative and new ways of rethinking how to use your collection, including making objects available for being disassembled and studied or used to create new pieces of art. ("What?!? You want me to let people take apart artifacts?? You want me to give them away?? Are you insane?!?") But the whole point is if you have these objects, but you're not displaying them or using them to teach your audience, or they're not in good enough condition to display, then they're just stuff taking up space in some room that no one will ever see. And we have too much Stuff That No One Is Seeing Or Using, and it's costing us money and hurting the environment, so it's time to rethink what we do with that stuff. 

The upsides (including my favorite essays):

• "Tier Your Collections: A Practical Tool for Making Clear Decisions in Collections Management" [I loved this! A how-to for prioritizing your objects.]
• "Object Reincarnation: Imagining a Future Outside the Permanent Collection" [Freaky ideas! Totally go against our traditional thinking about preserving objects]
• "Do You Know What It Costs You to Collect?" [Use data and hard facts of money and budgets to show that we can't save everything!]
• "Hoarding and Museum Collections: Conceptual Similarities and Differences"
• "The Vital Museum Collection"
• "Activate Your Collection: 51 Questions to Reveal Inactivity"
• A number of the essays talk about the meaning of objects and trying to document their meanings. ("What?? Document meanings?! How?!? And that doesn't fit into our current dimensions/material/creator scheme of record-keeping!")
• I really liked the ideas a few of the authors had about having community/communal collections, working with other museums or organizations so you're not all collecting the same thing. Does each museum in the county need a 19th century tea kettle, or can just one have it and loan it to the other museums when they need a 19th century tea kettle to display or photograph? Of course, with that comes the implication that we're in contact with a network of museums, whether that's the museums in our community or museums that have a similar focus to ours. So these new methods of collecting and managing collections will require new ways of working, both within and outside of our own organizations... but that's kind of an invigorating idea, too! 
• I also tried to incorporate some of these ideas while cleaning/reorganizing/downsizing this summer: "I don't know the provenance of these posters (Where did I get them? When? Did someone give them to me? What's the story behind them?) and they're 10-year-old schedules of sports teams, so do I really need to keep them? Nope, recycle." "Do I *really* need 4 of those mugs from a drink-mix product?" (Okay, I failed at getting rid of the extra mugs [so far] because they're so adorable, but I at least thought about it!)

The downsides:

• So many bad habits to break! Wait... that's not a downside of the book; that's a downside of me!

Overall: I really appreciated this book -- the essays have so many new and good ideas, and eye-opening ways to look at collections, collecting, how we interact with our audiences, and how we let our audiences interact with our collections. 

Envisioning overcrowded and overflowing collections storage spaces, and thinking about statistics that say museums only display 2-10% of their collection, we know that our collections need help, and that our collections management practices need to be retooled. We can't accept every item offered to us, and we can't keep every item for all of time. We have to say no, we have to deaccession, we have to find creative ways to make use of the items we're not using; we can't keep doing things the way they've always been done. Otherwise, we're going to drown in seas of archival storage boxes. 

In theory, I'm on board. Rationally, I know we can't care for Everything Ever: weed out items, keep a few examples but not every example, keep the collection relevant, etc. When I try to imagine actually doing it, though, my scenario goes to "But I like having one of everything! I like seeing the evolution of objects!" If I'm ever in a position again where I have control over and responsibility for a collection, I'm going to take the advice and tips in Active Collections to heart, but I'll have to go through a deep-in-my-soul process of breaking some habits. 

Reading List: Creating Exhibits That Engage: A Manual for Museums and Historical Organizations

This book is described as a "nuts-and-bolts guide to how to do [exhibits] step by step." It's meant, as Graham Black says in the Foreword, to help build the skills base of staff and volunteers at small and medium-sized museums and give them "the confidence to experiment and innovate" (xv). Author John Summers says this will give you "a method and a process you can follow that will greatly increase the likelihood that you will be able to create [a good exhibit]" (xix), and that 

If you want to know what is involved in making exhibits, this book will show you the scope of a typical project. If you need to create an exhibit, the steps outlined here will lead you through from beginning to end. Even if you are just hiring contract professionals to create some or all of an exhibit, the information in this book will help you to understand their perspective on the project and lead to a more effective working relationship. (xx)

 

Creating Exhibits That Engage: A Manual for Museums and Historical Organizations, 2018 by John Summers, 190 pages

The upsides:

• A "nuts-and-bolts guide to how to [create exhibits] step by step that is suited to the resources typically available in small- to medium-sized institutions" (xix)
• Each chapter has what Summers calls a "checklist" at the end, basically a summary or a TL;DR.
• I really liked the section on how to create an Exhibit Brief
  

The downsides:

• I felt like this was a very broad and brief overview of exhibits (The Big Idea, layout, fabrication, etc.).
  

Overall: 

Given all the summary information about how this would empower small museums' staff and lead them from beginning to end of an exhibit, I just didn't get it. The chapter titles and subheadings (Audience, The Exhibit Development Process, The Big Idea, The Brief and Request for Proposals, Text, etc.) sound like this would be a great resource, but I still felt like this was just skimming the surface. This felt like it was general guidelines and not like we're actually going anywhere big or specific. If you go with the statement above that talks about "the steps outlined here," then I guess it succeeds: this is just an outline of steps, which may give you a general map of how to create an exhibit, but doesn't give a lot of tips or advice on how to make it good. All of the other reviews of this book (which, granted, I couldn't find many of) think this is a great book, so maybe I'm just so uncreative and un-exhibit-minded that this book didn't touch me. There were some helpful parts, though, so this wasn't all a waste: a few accessibility guidelines, installation/viewing height guidelines, font samples, tools you need to build your own exhibit furniture (which is way beyond anything I'll ever do), and other tips, plus the Exhibit Briefs section was great; I just didn't see it as the same wonderful resource other reviewers did. I may refer back to it at some point, but I'll definitely look for other books about creating exhibits. 

Reading List: Community-Based Exhibition Model by Cassie Chinn

Long ago, when I first really started getting into the idea of working in a museum, there was a post on LinkedIn asking for recommendations for good books about exhibits. One of the books listed was Community-Based Exhibition Model from the Wing Luke Museum in Seattle, so I put it on my list of books to read someday (although I couldn't find it for sale anywhere).

This past September, I attended the American Association of State and Local History's virtual conference, which had a number of staff members from the Wing Luke Museum presenting sessions. In their sessions, Cassie Chinn and Rahul Gupta each touched on the idea of partnerships with the community, and in other sessions, both from presenters and attendees, the Wing Luke's community-based model -- the book, and the general idea -- were mentioned. That made me want the book even more.

In October, Jessica Rubenacker, current exhibits designer at the Wing Luke, spoke to one of my Museum Studies classes; I LOVED listening to her, which made me decide I Need This Book Now. I was finally able to find it for sale on the museum's website (why didn't I ever look there before??).

In this short book (26 big-sized pages, with charts and images), Cassie Chinn describes the museum's process for creating their community-based exhibits, where museum staff let community members guide the development of exhibits -- including themes, education and public programs, sources for artifacts and interviews, and even fundraising -- and uses the 2005 "Sikh Community: Over 100 Years in the Pacific Northwest" exhibit as a case study for their approach.

The upsides:

• The chart of the community-based model, showing how the Community Advisory Committee, participating community members, museum staff, and contractors all relate to each other and work together. 
• How to select Advisory Committee members and community partnerships  
• The meeting schedule - Chinn lays out what topics are covered at each of their (sample) meetings (Meeting 1 is introductions, sharing project background, presenting a timeline; Meeting 4 is creating the exhibit's storyline; etc.)
• How to facilitate a meeting with the Advisory Committee, a lot of which are just good points for leading any kind of meeting (making sure everyone's voice is heard, sending meeting minutes, respecting people's time, etc.)
  
• The Sikh exhibit case study shows in more detail how the theoretical model and timelines presented earlier in the book play out for real
  
• The honesty about what worked and what got the Sikh exhibit project off schedule
  
• The honesty about challenges presented overall by this model 
• In the AASLH sessions as well as sessions of the New England Museum Association's virtual conference on working with the community and partners, over and over panelists talked about being flexible, giving up control, and admitting that you don't know everything, and these key points are also highlighted in this book. 

The downsides:

• I would have liked maybe one more case study. The Sikh exhibit study gives good insight, but a second example could have possibly presented even more highlights and lowlights (things that worked and things that didn't) that the reader could learn from, and could also show how the museum learned from the challenges of the Sikh (or a previous) exhibit. Then again, this book was written soon after the Sikh exhibit was completed, so perhaps if they had an updated version, there would be more projects available to use as case studies.

Overall: A good tutorial for people who want to create exhibits with their community. The Wing Luke obviously has a great connection with their community and partners (otherwise they wouldn't want to help the museum with their exhibits), and Chinn does a nice job of presenting the framework for a community-based project.

Community-Based Exhibition Model
by Cassie Chinn

Will Small Museums Outlast COVID-19?

I don’t know if this is a crazy idea, or if it’s something everyone in the museum industry is already talking about – as opposed to little ol’ me, who wants to be in the museum industry, but is still on the outside looking in – or if it’s completely far-fetched, but I began wondering the other day: could small museums/historic sites be the institutions that outlast COVID-19, while larger institutions are wrecked by it? 

I was reading the Autumn 2019 issue of AASLH’s History News (yes, I’m far behind. But now that I don’t have a job, I have more time to read!), and first of all, about the last half of the magazine felt like topics/statistics that are no longer relevant, or are relevant in new ways: visitor data, the upcoming National Visitation Report, The Tenement Museum, fundraising… it felt like everything was strangely irrelevant, yet going to be newly relevant, all at the same time. Everything we thought we knew or were learning about visitor habits and statistics, notable museums and organizations to look to as models, and financial health has been blown out of the water this year (What visitors are coming anymore? What scheduled fundraising events happened this year as planned?), and yet, when/if we reopen, all of the specifics we learned are probably going to be invalid, but the ideas behind them will still be worthwhile as we rebuild and make a new world, The New Normal. We’re going to have to learn new habits of visitors, figure out the new demographics of visitors (Fewer travelers? Fewer elderly visitors? We’ll need to try even harder to reach out to younger visitors, families, and our neighbors), new ways to fundraise (Virtual fundraisers? More one-on-one experiences, to limit the number of participants in one space at the same time, as prizes/money-raisers?), and a greater need for fundraising to make up what we missed in 2020. But I digress. 

The article about the National Visitation Report had some pretty amazing “Wha huh?!?” insights about museum size vs. admission price vs. budget vs. visitor numbers for 2018. The summarized results showed that 

• sites with no entry fees received more visitors (about 16,600) on average than those that do charge entry fees, but those with entry fees had a larger increase in visitors during the survey window; 

• sites with no entry fees tended to be organizations with the smallest budgets; those with admission fees were from a range of budget sizes; 

• institutions with annual budgets of $250,000 or less made up 72% of sites with no entry fee, but 44% of those that charge entry fees; 

• small-budget organizations that don’t charge admission had larger visitation growth than both small-budget paid-entry sites and large-budget free-admission sites. 

The question of why organizations with the smallest budgets are the ones more likely to provide free entry made me pause for a moment. Of all of the museums I’ve been to or volunteered at, it seems that the small, neighborhood ones have the smallest budgets and they don’t have admission (they might suggest donations, but no actual admission prices), but the bigger, fancier ones with a broader focus (all of a region’s history, all of a state’s history, all of natural history, science, aviation history, etc.) do charge admission. Now, on the one hand, you could say it’s because the bigger ones have more to support: those large sites and facilities aren’t cheap, those artifacts aren’t going to keep themselves maintained, and new items for the collections aren’t free. But on the other hand, the smaller institutions seem like they would need or want more money – which would mean raised admissions – to be able to seek out and purchase items, or pay for at least a handful of employees to maintain the organization (a paid Collections Manager who knows how to properly take care of the artifacts, a paid Programs or Education Manager who knows how to bring in the crowds and spread the organization’s message, etc.). 

And that, in part, led me to my next thought, which is where the “revelation” (I’m not going to say this was a real revelation; it’s been a partially formed thought in my head for a while, but finally jelled, and I doubt I’m the first one who’s had this thought) came from: So how do these small organizations, small enough even that they’re not getting community or government grants, survive if they’re not charging admission? From my experience, many of them rely on fundraisers. Now, I already pondered earlier about how the stereotypical fundraiser, with big crowds, maybe black tie, maybe a dinner or auction, could change with The New World. But many of these small institutions that I’ve been a part of have relied on direct-mail fundraisers that go out to their members and/or mailing list. If I’m a small, local-history museum or society and you’re a member of my organization, once or twice a year I send you a special letter or postcard that says, “It’s time for our annual fundraiser! Please return this card with your donation,” and we both go along our merry ways. This type of fundraiser doesn’t rely on close proximity of attendees, we don’t have to go in public that might have restrictions on how many people can be in one room at a time; it’s just sit-at-home-write-a-check-mail-an-envelope. Those types of fundraisers might not be in dire jeopardy. There is still the problem that people who aren’t working because their jobs have been put on hold, they’ve been furloughed, or laid off may not be able to donate as much or at all, but… is it outlandish to also point out that a lot of donors are retirees? They may not have as much of a financial change due to COVID as younger donors who are donating parts of their paychecks that now don’t exist. 

So these smaller organizations potentially aren’t going to experience as much of a downturn in their fundraising activities as the larger organizations could. And if these smaller organizations also aren’t charging admission to begin with, then fewer visitors won’t affect them either, unless they’re getting grants based on the number of visitors. Additionally, these small groups typically don’t have paid staff, or have just a few paid employees, so lack of admission isn’t affecting a payroll, either, which means they’re not laying off people, which means there isn’t a downturn in the labor being performed (there’s still someone there to maintain their collections, someone to plan the few fundraisers, someone to plan programs and exhibits… no paid staff means no layoffs which means likely no change in who’s available to do what). 

So now we have small organizations that may not experience a big change in their fundraising model or their attendance revenue, versus the larger organizations that rely on in-person fundraising events, younger donors who may have been affected by COVID-related job reductions, and paid admission that’s no longer coming at previous levels. Am I nuts to think the small, neighborhood organizations could weather the COVID storm better than large institutions? 

The American Alliance of Museums released a report in July saying that one-third of museums could close forever as a result of COVID-19. The report says that respondents from a June survey represented a “broad cross-section of the field geographically, by size, and by discipline,” but doesn’t break down where those possibly-closing museums fall in the range of budgets. Could it be that the larger museums make up the majority of the one-third that could close? 

Laura Lott, President & CEO of AAM, said that “costs will outweigh revenue”… but if we’re looking at our free-admission institutions, their costs were already outweighing their admissions revenue, and that was their natural state, that’s just How Things Are for them. 

The survey respondents also reported that 87% of them had 12 months or less of operating reserves, but again, small organizations – at least the ones whose nitty-gritty I’m familiar with – typically operate with only one- to two-years’ budget available at a time, so having 12 months’ worth available is nearly the norm. 

I began having this wild vision of the super-large museums being paralyzed by COVID and having to shut down, crumpling to the ground like Godzilla being taken down (NOT saying that big institutions are bad, destructive monsters like Godzilla; just comparing sizes). Meanwhile, there are these small, neighborhood museums, relying solely on their community members for support, and while not Strong like Godzilla, they’re at least able to stand up, dodging whatever is attacking Godzilla. Once Godzilla goes down and the threats of both Godzilla and whatever took him down are gone, the small, neighborhood museums are still there, and they emerge from the rubble. No more Godzilla-museums means they’re the only museums in town; will people now flock to them to get their historical/cultural fix? Will these small, independent, neighborhood museums become The New Norm of what a museum is? And then, over time, will they become stronger and bigger, raising funds from more than just their direct-mail supporters? If so, the next time a pandemic or similar catastrophe strikes, will they then be the behemoths that don’t survive? 

Looking at it another way, I’m currently reading After the Blast: The Ecological Recovery of Mount St. Helens. The author, Eric Wagner, describes various theories about how plants live, thrive, and compete in an ecosystem. Wagner says that Frederic Clements, a botany professor in the early 1900s, “believed that climate and habitat, rather than interactions between the species, did the most to dictate what species would survive where,” and that competition happened within each species, rather than against other species. Wagner explains Clements’ view that tree species 1 is actually competing against tree species 2, rather than tree species 1 vs. shrub species 1; and shrub species 1 is competing for space and nutrients against shrub species 2, rather than grass species 1. These competitions go on and form units of succession, with whoever the current victors are for each species making up one unit of succession: “tree species 1, shrub species 1, and grass species 1… thrived for a time, but eventually gave way to tree species 2, shrub species 2, and grass species 2.” Museums may not be competing with each other in the knock-down, take-your-nutrients-and-run manner, but we are competing for visitors’ attention and dollars, and community/government funding, if there is any. But with the pandemic causing the big museums (museum species 1) to close due to lack of visitors, admissions, and donations, are the small museums going to be museum species 2, thriving as the dominant type of museums? Will they be the reigning museum species until the next environmental factor (actual environment or situational environment) causes a change in the ecosystem? 

(I again add the caveat that I’m just basing this on my experiences, and I only have super-in-depth knowledge of the operating intricacies of one small, local history group and one medium-size museum, with medium-depth knowledge of a few others of various sizes. There’s also the caveat of “Well, if the organization is run only/mainly by volunteers, how do those volunteers pay their bills? They may have a job, and that job could now be gone, which could affect their willingness to volunteer [no paycheck means no gas money to get to the organization, for example] or could mean they have to look for a job that changes their availability to volunteer.” So many extra factors, and I think we’re still going to be seeing how this plays out for a long time to come.)

Interactives: Thing of the Past?

Are interactives at museums about to become relics themselves?

Reading Dan Spock's "A Post-Coronavirus Museum," it hit me that interactive activities at museums and science centers may quickly become a thing of the past.

As COVID-19 started to spread through the U.S., museums began talking about temporarily removing their interactives. No more touchy stations for kids, no more equipment for them to climb on, but just for now, as a precaution. At the museum I was working at, there was discussion about putting hand sanitizer stations in the room of touch-screen interactives, rather than completely closing off the room.

But it's now five months later, and "for now" and "temporarily" are still going. Many museums are currently closed, so their interactives are a moot point for the moment, but at some point, they will reopen (Won't they?), and there will need to be discussions about all of those hands-on activities for kids and adults.

Spock states: "One museum I’m aware of is already discussing plans to pull all interactive activities from its exhibits in anticipation of reopening," and refers to "the idea that children’s and other museums might ... revert to static displays like the ones I grew up with five decades ago."

Wow. That idea of possibly getting rid of all interactives is just... wow. How much time have museum professionals -- exhibit designers, curators, education departments -- spent researching interactives and thinking of how to incorporate them into each museum? How much time have we spent thinking how a physical activity could be integrated into the theme of our museums or science centers -- hammering away to build a railroad, pushing buttons to create tides, spinning a knob to make a sign light up, touching a screen to make your choice in a game, using building blocks to construct a bridge or high-rise, touching a plasma ball to see electricity and how it's conducted -- especially as a way to help a visitor make a connection with what they're learning? As far as I know, interactives are still a relatively new thing (booming within the last 10-20 years), and now we're having to either rethink what an "interactive" could/should be, or get rid of them altogether? How much time have we invested in these aspects of museums and learning, and now they may have to become obsolete?? That realization blew my mind.

If we can't touch things, or should be touching many fewer things, what will "interactives" look like in the post-Coronavirus world? How will those multi-sensory and tactile goals be accomplished? Will everything be virtual reality? For me, one of the great things about most interactives was that they forced you to look at something in the real world, and to get physically involved, rather than staring at a screen, as if you were at home watching TV or streaming movies online. It can be argued that some virtual reality activities require involvement, but there are others that are "Sit there, put on this headset, and watch this," much like the "Stand there, look at that wall, and read this" of gallery spaces.

On the other hand, in episode #79 of the "Museum Archipelago" podcast, exhibit designer Paul Orselli lists a number of other options, like interactive touch screens or projection systems that are activated and controlled by foot, rather than by hand, allowing social interactions while being socially distanced. "[It's] sort of full-body and it doesn't involve people touching their hands."

He describes what he calls "empty interaction," such as "a flip label [with] one piece of text and information on a little flap or a door, and to encounter the rest of the information, or to get an answer to a question, you have to open up the flap," as well as push-button interactives. Those are certainly easy interactives (and kind of fun, with that moment of "Here's my guess. Did I get it right? Let's see!" and "What's going to happen when I push this?"), but as Orselli laughs, "That might be about the lowest level of interaction possible." He then asks whether there's a way to create a more intellectually engaging version of a flip label.

Orselli says that possibly having to get rid of these simple interactives could be a good thing, forcing us to ask ourselves, "How could we provide a satisfying experience, and what are the interfaces or other kinds of opportunities that we could provide that would carry the content, would carry the emotional ideas that we want to carry across?" As Orselli concludes, "Constraints are a good thing for creativity, and now we've just been thrown some public health and perceptual constraints. We have to think about that because certainly our visitors are going to be thinking about that, and if we don't show that at least we're sensitive to that, our visitors could rightfully think that we are insensitive not only to those design constraints and those design considerations, but insensitive to them as people who want to have fun and want to be safe." This gives us new things to think about, new approaches to interactions for our visitors, new ways of learning. It's going to be a whole new world.

Someday (maybe soon), is there going to be a Museum of Interactives? Lots of old flip panels, push buttons, and hammering toys, all sitting on shelves? We'll visit with our kids or grandkids, they'll then visit with their kids, and say "Back in the 2010s, there were things called interactives. You had to do stuff with your hands to make them work. Look at that old technology!"

Hot town, summer at the MOHAI

To celebrate summer and the holiday weekend, my mom and I decided to head down to the Museum of History & Industry again to see what's new since it opened in December. It was a beautiful, sunny Seattle summer day, so what better way to spend it than on South Lake Union, taking in some history?

I think we both had the theory that since we were already there when it opened, and spent 15000 hours walking through it, this visit would be a much quicker trip. Indeed, we even had three stops planned for after the museum; however, the only one we actually got around to was the one that was five blocks away. So, here's my tip for anyone who enjoys history and is planning on visiting MOHAI more than once: plan for just as much time on your subsequent visits as you did on the first! With revisiting your favorite exhibits, playing at spots you couldn't get to the first time, and new games and exhibits, you're going to get sucked in for just as long every single time.

We knew going in that we were going to go back to the Seattle's past-and-present film and Seattle's Great Fire. In fact, the Great Fire was going to be our first stop, until I saw the theater for the other film and veered her in there. Even on the second or third viewing, the music is so great! All those great Seattle musicians! We agreed that the film is put together so well that it makes us feel proud to be from here. My mom even wondered if you could feel that way about any other city. (I think probably so, as long as the film about the city is edited and narrated well, but it's just so easy to feel proud to be from the Seattle/western Washington area! All of the technology and innovations from here, the music, and the breathtaking scenery...)

After that, we went through each floor rather haphazardly. We went in the general chronological direction, but having seen so much of it last time, there were portions we knew we could either skip or go through quickly. But one place we weren't going to skip was the Great Fire film. Even on the second (or third?) viewing, we still loved the singing typewriter and glue pot (with its Scandinavian-accented "I'm yust a glooo pot."). I think that's going to be a destination every time we visit.

But here's the best part of the day's trip: new games and exhibits! Already! I figure some of them were probably things that were there the first time but that I couldn't get to, or were things that they were planning on putting in but hadn't been able to by the grand opening. But still, they were new to me! Fun!

The most fun one was one I'm sure wasn't there in December: at the end of the "World City" wall (I believe we were still in that area) was a section about authors from the northwest and books that take place in the region. But! There are two interactive kiosks where you could "write" your own book about the area! You choose the words for your title from a bunch of options (but your title can only be x words long; I had to edit mine a couple of times), then select artwork that you want to use. Next, you write the synopsis of your "book": you have the choice of either writing it completely on your own, or being guided, which reminded me of Mad Libs. Once you're done with your book, you're asked if you want to display your book on the wall of books created by other visitors, as well as real books by local authors or about local areas. That was pretty cool, seeing my "book" pop up on the big screen for everyone to see. And then! the kiosk lets you read about the real books, and it even gives you a list of recommended books, based on the book you created! How crazy and cool! I was seriously amazed when I saw the recommended books. I felt like a little kid, amazed that the machine could read my mind or something :)   (Ah, fun museums, they can make everyone feel like a kid.) Not only was I impressed by the fun of creating my own "book" and seeing it displayed, but I was also just flabbergasted by how many different ways this one kiosk could be used: a game of making your own book, a learning center about local authors, a learning center about locally-based books, and a book recommendation machine. Four birds with one stone! One very fun stone! MOHAI people, I've said it before, and I'm saying it again: You're amazing.  (Can I come work for you? If not, can I just come live in your museum?)

*sigh*

The next fun thing that I didn't do in December (but I think this one was there then) was the Neighborhoods game. I was looking at the Boeing display when my ears suddenly perked up at the unmistakable notes of "Soul Bossa Nova" in the distance. I followed the tune until I found, off in a corner room in one of the exhibit areas (the 1960s, perhaps), a touch-screen with a colorful and fun-looking image. It had a map of the Puget Sound region, with groovy shapes representing different neighborhoods; at the bottom of the screen was the word "neighborhoods." The fun thing about that is that each letter comes from a picture taken around the region. For example, the first thing I noticed was that the R was the Rainier R. If you touch the letter, the full picture pops up, so you can see the complete context of the one letter. When you close the picture, the letter's picture changes to a different one, so you have a new version of the letter! (On the way home, I was giggling to myself because I kept seeing the real-life version of many of the letters in the "neighborhoods" image.)

When you touch one of the actual neighborhoods on the map, an information box pops up, telling you about that particular neighborhood and any comments visitors have left about that area. That was cool, but then my mom pointed out that there was a game you could play! Ooh, more games! Okay, let's play. Similar to the Shaping Our City area, the screen asks you multiple-choice questions about your preferences. These questions were things like where you'd rather go if you only had an hour to spend (watching a band, walking along the waterfront, etc.), which mode of water transportation you prefer (yacht, sailboat, kayak, etc.), what type of restaurant you prefer (a cafe, take-out, etc.), what type of named neighborhood you'd rather live in (one named after a person, one named after geographical features, etc.), things like that. At the end, it generates a neighborhood that's perfect for you, and one that isn't. Mine actually came out pretty good. If you know the region well enough, you kind of get a feeling for what neighborhood(s) the game is thinking you might like, or which neighborhoods each option would lead to. At one point, I thought it was going to tell me I should live at Green Lake or downtown, which would be fun, too. But in the end, it gave me the U District. Perfect! Me, the UW, the artsiness and eclecticism of the Ave... yeah, the game got that one right.

Other exhibits in the museum are already rotating, which shouldn't have surprised me, since it's been open for over six months now. The third floor's exhibit room is now the museum's "Still Afloat" feature about houseboats of Seattle. Here were mini layouts of houseboat fronts (e.g. the front door and front lawn of the boats), a little diorama of waterfront (minus the actual water) and a houseboat (The diorama was even completed with trash under the water level, like bottles, cans, and a toilet, as well as seashells.), and big, bright magnets that kids (of all ages :D ) could use to create their own waterfront scene on a magnetic wall. Items on the ground floor had also changed (the UPS truck has been moved out and a logging truck has been moved in, but not in the same location), so I wonder if even those larger items, which seemed like they'd be permanent, will rotate. I guess I'll have to go back in a few months and check ;)

Museum of History and Industry - 3rd & 4th Floors

I'm back, and it's time to finish our little journey through the new Museum of History and Industry on Seattle's South Lake Union.

As I mentioned before, the third and fourth floors aren't full floors -- they're almost like exhibit boxes floating above the main floor. The third floor, the Linda and Ted Johnson Family Community Gallery, is another space for a temporary exhibit. Right now, the exhibit is "Punctum/Poetry," featuring work of high school students. There are poems written by Seattle high-schoolers, some based on pictures from MOHAI's photo collection; one wall also has three video screens showing videos of students interviewing each other with basic oral history interview questions -- "What do you want to be?" "Where do you see yourself in 10 years?", that sort of thing. Considering the Shaping Our City tower and the Personal Stories tower, MOHAI seems to be really in to gathering stories from people -- everyone, even commoners like us -- to keep for all time. That's pretty cool.

The fourth, and final, floor is the McCurdy Family Maritime Gallery. True to its name, this room is all about boats and boat life. There's a little display about Foss Maritime, and lots of pictures of boats and waterways in Seattle (to go along with the photos on the second floor, just after the Seattle's Great Fire exhibit). The two major items in the gallery are a Fresnel lens from the lighthouse on Smith Island, which guided sailors from 1885 to 1957, and a periscope. Not only is the city of Seattle, with all its lakes and maritime history, a great place to have a periscope, but MOHAI's new location -- right on a lake with lots of boats, near hills with big trees and fancy houses, a major freeway, and just blocks from the Space Needle and Seattle Center -- is a great place to have a periscope, so you can see the enchanting city outside, from inside. Even on that limited opening day, though, there was a line to play with the periscope, so if you go, be patient (especially when little kids don't realize there's a line of people waiting, and just run up to it and throw themselves at it).

One especially cool thing about MOHAI's new location is that it's on the water. Well, duh, I know, it's on a lake; but when a city's history is largely based on water travel and the many uses of major waterways, it hits home more when you can look right outside the window (which the building has plenty of) and actually see the water. From the windows on the second floor, you look out and you're looking almost directly into boats. From the windows in the Maritime Gallery, the entire view is water and boats (and the pretty city beyond the lake). It's all pretty well-placed, and MOHAI takes advantage of its location (Coincidence? Rule #39).

View from the second floor

Another upside to all of the windows in the armory is that MOHAI is able to create a couple of pretty cool "Now and Then"-type moments. There are two displays that show pictures of part of Seattle back in the 1900s (some are early 1900s, some are later 1900s), followed by text to the effect of "If you look up from where you are, out the window, there's that same site!" At the old location, you couldn't do that. Now, with all those windows, you can.

So, that wraps up our visit to the Museum of History and Industry. I'm really impressed with the new location, and what they've done with it. I don't think it's just the sparkle of something new; I think everything will last and hold up well. Plus, everything was planned well: there are lots of places to sit if you need a little break from all of the walking around, there are lots of touch screens and other interactive displays for both kids and adults to play with, and there's a cellphone audio tour for 13 items in the collection.

Even though we spent five hours at the museum, I KNOW we didn't see everything. The films that run on loops in various exhibits, every picture, every display in every nook and cranny, every word on every sign... I KNOW we didn't see everything. But I can't wait to see what they do when they rotate items in and out. So much to explore!

And one more news item:
Seattle Times photo gallery

Museum of History and Industry - 2nd Floor (part 2)

Ah, that was a nice rest, wasn't it? Let's continue on with the second floor now, focusing on the big display areas.

When you first go up the stairs from the main floor, if you take a hard left, rather than a slight left into the "True Northwest: The Seattle Journey" exhibit area, you end up in the Joshua Green Foundation Theater. I don't know if this is permanent, but inside was a pretty spiffy 8-minute film about Seattle, the history of the city and visions of the future. But it's not your normal "Indians lived here, white people came, built a city." It talks about history like the Native Americans who were here and Chief Sealth, but it also talks about the history of Seattle as a business city, with Starbucks, Microsoft, etc.; the history of the city on the world stage, especially as the site of the 1999 WTO; the history of Seattle as a music hub; the history of Seattle as a home to medical technology companies, and things like that. It was a nice little movie. Plus, it was shown over two side-by-side screens, so the screen on the left showed one thing, while the screen on the right showed another thing. The two were related, but it was cool the way it was like split-screen, especially because sometimes the two images juxtaposed each other (juxtaposed with each other? against each other?), or sometimes a quote would start on the left screen, and finish on the right screen. PLUS, the music. Oh, the music! Nirvana, Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, Death Cab for Cutie... and not only was there good local music during the film, but also during the break between showings. Scott McCaughey (solo? Young Fresh Fellows? Minus Five? I'm not sure), Damien Jurado... Whoever put the film together and whoever chose the music both were the winners of the day, in my view. And, according to the MOHAI gentleman at the door of the theater when we went in, the seats came from the Cinerama.

Another big part of the second floor is the Walker Gallery, which houses temporary exhibits. The first temporary exhibit at the new MOHAI is "Celluloid Seattle," a history of Seattle on film and theaters in the city. It's a local pop culture geek's heaven. Various places of the gallery are set up like mini-theaters, where themed montages play, like "The Sleepless City," which shows clips from Say Anything..., Georgia, Sleepless in Seattle, The Ring, Singles, and 10 Things I Hate About You, among others. There's also a mock drive-in theater, with a car as the seats, where I heard a mother explain to her son what a drive-in theater was! The gallery also has the living room set from Frasier, and clips of Seattle on TV shows (Here Come the Brides and The Simpsons, for example). The museum also displays various items from Seattle theaters, like light fixtures, ticket takers' stands, and restroom signs.

Hello, Seattle. I'm listening.

But the COOLEST part of the second floor is the Seattle's Great Fire exhibit. In 1889, a massive fire broke out in Seattle, destroying most of the wood-based business district. In 1952-3, Ruddy Zallinger, a local artist, painted a mural of the fire for MOHAI. The mural was used as the backdrop to the Great Fire exhibit at the old museum. In the new museum, though... whoa. Okay, I've mentioned many times now that the new MOHAI has lots of interactive exhibits, but this one is REALLY an interactive exhibit. That is, it interacts with itself. The Great Fire exhibit is now off in a little theater-type room, with artifacts from the fire lining the walls of the area. There are plates, marbles, and coins that were fused together in the fire, a couple of dolls, fire helmets, a wheel from the fire wagon (I think that's what it's from), and ... the glue pot that started the fire (Dunh dunh dunhhhh). Now, in the middle of the mural, there's also a screen... that shows a film about the fire... told in song. And who sings the song about the fire? The artifacts in the exhibit. There's a typewriter; it sings. There's a newspaper; it sings. There's a money bag; it sings. The fused plates sing. The dolls sing. The glue pot sings (It sings, "Don't blame me!"). As each item sings, a spotlight shines on it. Oh my God, it was AWESOME. So much fun! The words to the song are displayed on the screen, along with pictures from the fire, and as each word is sung, a little icon bounces over them, like a sing-along, and the icon corresponds to the item singing. When the typewriter sings, an "A" key guides you. When the newspaper sings, a rolled up newspaper icon bounces along. The glue pot? Represented by a glue pot. Plus, the mural and the film interact with each other, with the screen showing most of the mural, but the edges shown on the wall, so that the fire hoses are held by firefighters on the wall, but are spraying the buildings on the screen. It was all pretty cool.

Seattle's Great Fire film and mural. You can also see the doll and glue pot.

Of note back among the smaller displays are an interactive activity about how far you'd be willing to go for social change (which, at the beginning of the game, plays "Takin' It to the Streets," so wink-wink and a nod for that); the first Ultrasound machine made by ATL, based on technology from the University of Washington; and the one thing many, many Seattleites are glad MOHAI owns: the 1979 NBA Championship trophy the Seattle Supersonics won. (Harumph)

I hate Clay Bennett

Toward the end of the second-floor excursion is the World City area, which is another pop culture lover's dream. This area focuses on sports and music. The first display case you come across when you enter has jerseys from Edgar Martinez and Freddy Montero, a Gary Payton lunchbox, penants from all the professional teams of the past few decades, and other little pieces of pro sports memorabilia. Next to the display is a television that plays highlights from major Seattle sports moments, like Rosalynn Sumners at the 1984 Olympics, Apolo Ohno at the 2002 Olympics, Edgar Martinez's "The Double," the Storm winning the WNBA championship, the UW Huskies in 1992, and the Seattle Seahawks going to the 2006 Super Bowl.

Going through a little doorway after the sports area puts you in the music section. Everyone who's paid attention to almost anything in the world in the past 20 years has a pretty good idea what's in this area. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice In Chains, just like you'd expect. But there's also Screaming Trees, SubPop Records, "Louie Louie," Modest Mouse, Fleet Foxes, and Heart (What? No Posies?!? No Harvey Danger??). A lot of the Nirvana-, Pearl Jam-, and Screaming Trees-related stuff are actual items on display (just a few, though), and the rest are featured in a video playing on one wall.

Now we're nearly at the end of the second floor. The whole floor is wonderful, but those are my personal favorites.

Tomorrow, we'll finish our little tour of the very large museum.

One more article about the new MOHAI:
King5, 12/29/12

Museum of History and Industry - 2nd Floor (part 1)

It certainly seems like I could have spent an entire day on the first floor, but that would have mostly just been standing in the middle of the atrium, looking around at all the things you can see from the floor, the high ceilings, the well-designed exhibit fronts... The second floor, though, I think you could *actually* spend a day going through everything. That's where we spent most of our time, and where I realized we'd already been there for three hours!

So now, let's venture upstairs. You saw in yesterday's post the cool staircase that goes up to the second, third, and fourth floors. There's also a glass elevator that I have a feeling would be extremely cool. You could look at all the exhibits as you approach or depart from them. I, though, wouldn't have the guts to ride in that thing. It's one thing when the walls are glass and you can see through them. That's no problem. It's a completely different thing when you can see through the floor, too. Instead, I admired it from a sturdy floor... even though that made me a little disoriented, too. But I did watch the gears as the elevator made its rounds, which was cool.

Okay, so let's go up to the second floor. This is where the main historical exhibits are. From Native Americans to the Denny expedition to a growing city, railroads, gold rush... Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition to World War I to Depression... Prohibition, WPA, World War II... suburbia, civil unrest, technology industry, the world stage... this floor is where everything about "history" is.

There are some pretty cool things on the second floor, and lots more interactive fun. There's a display about the different languages of place names around western Washington (Native American, Spanish, Russian, "American"); a game where kids can watch a video and help "build" a railroad (which is a VERY LOUD game... I recommend either having earplugs, or going quickly through that area); and a "game" about the Red Scare, among other interactive activities.

Another thing MOHAI totally got right was the interactive moments that will remain after the visitors leave. Sure, it's fun to make signs light up or to build a railroad, but the Shaping Our City exhibit on the first floor actually leaves something with the museum; in this case, the statistics of people's answers to the questionnaires. On the second floor, in the Seattle By Design area, there's a little nook with a sign that says "How would you redesign the city?" and Post-It notes and pencils so people can leave their thoughts. Even by 1 o'clock-ish on opening day, there were lots of notes already. I don't know what the museum's going to do with all these, but I hope they're saving them. Maybe pull them out in 50 years and put on display of "Here's what people in 2012 wanted the city to look like. What ideas really happened? Which sound ridiculous now? Which ones would you still like to see happen?"

The towers on the second floor are The Microsoft Story, Seattle's World's Fairs, Boeing Takes Off, and Personal Stories. The Seattle's World's Fairs tower is pretty cool because it puts the 1909 Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition and the 1962 World's Fair back-to-back. The only bad thing is that it's in a tower, which is sort of like a walk-in closet, so there's not a lot of room for stuff or room to move around. But I do like the idea of them being together.

The Personal Stories tower is the one above the Shaping Our City tower and features oral histories from notable people, or from local people about notable events. Again, the exhibit is interactive. There are three listening/watching stations, and at each one, you touch the screen to select the era you want to explore, then select the photo of the person whose interview you want to listen to. I kind of loved this tower, given my recent foray into transcribing (and attempting to plan) oral histories. It made me feel warm and fuzzy about the work I've been doing, and also reaffirmed some questions I've been having (For example, different oral history style guides approach dialect and slang like "cuz"/"'cause"/"because" differently. The two MOHAI interviews I saw transcribed the shortened version of "because" as "'cause," so that contradicts one style guide I read, but confirms the way I've been doing them. That made me happy -- if it's good enough for MOHAI, it's good enough for me!).

Paul Allen interview in Personal Stories tower

Whew! I don't know about you, but I'm getting tired. I think we need to take a little break. Oh, look! There are lots of places to sit! There are couches in the Getting Started area, the Visions area, the World City area, and an interactive display where you can sit in the Changes area, not to mention a theater with seats and a couple of sit-and-watch exhibits in the Walker Gallery. Plus, another set of bathrooms. Let's say we sit for a little while, and we'll reconvene tomorrow to continue with the second floor.

Museum of History and Industry - 1st Floor

I'm back, with more in-depth descriptions of the Museum of History and Industry's Grand Opening. Since there was so much to see, I'm going to do one floor per post.

So, Thursday, December 27, 2012, was a grey day, with a few sunbreaks off in the distant clouds, but still threatening to rain all morning. Getting to the museum could have been a challenge: not only has MOHAI moved to a new location we'd need to find, but the main street (Mercer) to the area has been getting a facelift all year, changing the street from one-way that veers immediately after exiting the freeway to a two-way six-lane road. It was our first time in that part of Seattle since the street was redone, so it would be all new to us. Luckily, we didn't go the wrong way at any point :) Whew! Okay, now we could find a parking spot and go in.

MOHAI at Lake Union (picture from KIRO TV)

The building's exterior is absolutely stunning. It used to be a naval armory, and now the bright white paint and blue accents make it look sharp. From the south side, it looks impressive; from the west side (the main entrance), it looks breathtaking.

When you first walk into the museum and pass the information desk, you're amazed by how expansive it seems. The first floor atrium is wide open, and as I mentioned yesterday, the upper floors don't go all the way across the building: the second floor lines the wall, and the third and fourth floors are only on the north side of the building.

Main staircase leading up to floors 2-4. Notice the original Boeing B-1 airplane overhead.

To the right, there's a picture box-like display of models and artifacts: the Rainier R; a model of Mt. St. Helens (I think. I don't remember seeing it say "Mt. St. Helens," so maybe it's a generic mountain/volcano); a model of a Boeing airplane; a model of the Hat & Boots from the Georgetown gas station; a "Greetings from Seattle" postcard; a model of the Kalakala ferry; a model of the cougar Eddie Bauer shot on his property; a sign from the Dog House restaurant; Black Bart, who welcomed visitors to the 1962 World's Fair; a Rainier Beer bottle and bottle opener from the commercials; and one of Ivar's clams. What's more, this is the first interactive exhibit you run across: turning various hand cranks lights up the R, makes the volcano spew lava, lights up the box for Hat & Boots, changes the Seattle postcard to another scene, lights up the Kalakala, hides Eddie Bauer's cougar behind bushes, moves plates at the Dog House, makes Black Bart draw his gun, makes the bottle opener approach the Rainier bottle, and makes Ivar's clam dance, respectively.

Hanging from the ceiling to the left is the Slo-mo-shun IV hydroplane, and hanging almost directly above you is the original Boeing B-1 airplane.

A nifty thing they have going on in the museum are the towers, most of which are highly interactive. There are four towers--three on the east side of the building, one in the southwest corner--and each tower spans (can you span vertically?) the first two floors. Each tower has its own theme, and since they rise up two floors, that comes out to eight themes, total. The first-floor towers are Building a Game (how video games go from concept to production), Building a City (a little playroom for kids where they can play with blocks to make a neighborhood), Starting a Business, and Shaping Our City.

Participant = exhibit

Shaping Our City is a damn cool interactive exhibit, if I may use such a naughty word in describing a piece of Culture. This portion of the tower, smartly, is a great companion to the upper-floor theme, Personal Stories. The Shaping Our City tower allows visitors to answer a series of questions, like "How do you deal with the rain?", "Why did you come to the museum today?", "What brought you to the Seattle area?" and "How do you take your coffee?" The profiles then created are amazing for two reasons: One, they become part of the exhibit. On the outside of the tower are pictures of famous local people, the type of pictures you'd see at a historical museum. The tower's wall, though, also includes three frames, which display pictures people took of themselves while answering the questionnaire inside. I LOVED that part! *We* become part of history! Here's this wall of newsmakers' pictures, and here's a picture of a visitor, right in the display, like she's a noteworthy person, too. Not only that, but inside the tower, visitors can then read others' profile on the display screens. Select a profile to view, and the screen will show you that person's answers to two of the questions.

I'm famous! "How do you handle the rain?"

The second really cool thing about the Shaping Our City exhibit is that the information gathered from the questionnaires is then collected to learn statistics about the museum's visitors. For example, I think one stat I read said that 2% of the visitors that morning came from Peru!
 
I think by the time my mom and I got to this point in our exploration, we'd already been at the museum for an hour, and had lost my dad twice. But it was fun! And thanks Mom, for having the genius idea of taking a picture of my UW sweatshirt as my profile pic. She's so smart! I could be in the exhibit without actually having to have *my face* be a part of it :) The one sad thing about this exhibit is that the computer only holds 32 profiles, so once 32 people have come in after you, your profile goes *poof*. The answers, though, are still part of the museum's statistics. So even though no one after about 1 pm on Thursday saw my picture or could view my profile, I still count as part of the small percentage of people who answered that they don't drink coffee, or the percentage who said they came to the museum because they're interested in local history :)

After we finished playing with that, my mom and I went back outside the tower and stood there, waiting to see if my picture would pop up on the wall display. We waited a few minutes, but it never did (and I later went back and watched for a few more minutes a few hours later :D ), so we finally moved on to the second floor, which I'll describe in my next post. Stay tuned!

(Oh, I'll also mention that the first floor has two bathrooms, the original Lincoln Toe Truck, the Compass Cafe, and the temporary gift shop.)


Some other articles about the new MOHAI:
The Kitsap Sun, 12/28/12
Seattle Times, 12/7/12
KOMO, 12/29/12