Showing posts with label access. Show all posts
Showing posts with label access. Show all posts

Monday, 30 September 2013

Opera and the City

Musical journey in 5 acts, hommage to Maria Callas (Source: Lifo)
In early 2011, the debt of the National Opera of Greece (NOG) was over 17 million Euro and there was a serious threat of closure. When two weeks ago the NOG artistic director Myron Michaelides gave a press conference presenting the 2013-2014 season, the picture was quite different:

Monday, 16 September 2013

The reconquest

Wolf Trap National Park for the Performing Arts, Washington DC (Photo: bigbirdz on Flickr)

In Ancient Greece, drama was part of what, nowadays, one would call pop or mass culture. Ancient Greeks would fill their theatres in the thousands. They would bring food with them, as they would spend the whole day at the amphitheatre. They would eat during performances and they would throw food or shout at the actors if they didn´t like what was being presented. They would also intervene, ask questions or express opinions regarding the plot.

Monday, 24 June 2013

Elitism for all

Eszter Szabó, Our Lady, 2012 (Photo: Maria Vlachou)

And suddenly, in less than a week, there were three different posts on Facebook, written by three different people, referring to three different situations, but with a common underlying question: cultural elitism.

First, cultural programmer António Pinto Ribeiro criticized poet Herberto Helder's publisher who announced that the poet's latest book would be a unique and limited edition. He considered this to be an offensive marketing campaign, an arrogant decision, little dignifying for all those involved. Someone commented that this was probably the poet's option – feeling uncomfortable for becoming very fashionable and wishing to turn his books into less accessible objects. António Pinto Ribeiro reaffirmed his criticism (read the post here).

Monday, 10 June 2013

How do you take your El Greco?

Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest (Photo: Maria Vlachou)
When I enter a room in a museum and an El Greco is hanging on the wall everything stops around me. There´s no noise, no movement, just me and him and silence. In a couple of museums where I was caught by surprise, as I had no idea they had an El Greco in their collection, there was even more: it seemed that I suddenly stopped breathing, I felt a weakness in my legs.  He´s one of my favourite painters. He´s also a Cretan , who left his homeland and carried Byzantium with him wherever he went and never signed his works in a language other than his own.

I´ve seen El Greco on a number of occasions and under different circumstances: blockbuster exhibitions at the National Gallery in Athens and London, very busy rooms at the Louvre or the Metropolitan or in Toledo, a quiet corner at the Phillips Collection in Washington or, more recently, a big room almost to myself at the Museum of Fine Arts in Budapest. Which was the best experience? All of them.

Quite a few times lately I came across comments of both museum professionals and museum visitors in general who complain that museums are not what they used to be.They feel that they cannot have what they call “a true experience” because they´re packed with visitors. They are longing to be alone with the art and they are very critical of this new museum where everyone is welcome even though he/she might not even be there for the “right reasons”. I do understand  people who seek a specific environment of peace and intimacy when visiting. But I become very worried when they seem to think that museums were made just for them (and should remain that way) and when museum professionals back these positions.

Museums need to provide for all sorts of people and needs. When aiming at diversifying their audiences, there is always the question of how to do it without allienating existing ones. It´s not easy in any case and it becomes even more difficult when they are busy and popular museums. There are visitors who know more and visitors who know less; visitors who want to learn and visitors whose first aim is to have a good time; visitors looking for intimacy and visitors ready to queue for hours and visit an exhibition in the company of hundreds of others. Different needs, different objectives, but none more legitimate than another, I would say.

A friend sent me the other day Brian Cohen´s article How to visit a museum. Although I don´t share his views as to what museums represent (or should represent) in the cultural life of those who visitem them, I can see that he´s a visitor who knows very well what he´s looking for and I enjoyed very much reading his advice for people who wish to tailor their museum visit to their needs and interests. Museums could probably adopt the idea and advise their visitors with regards to quieter times and days, suggested or alternative routes, etc. (some already do). Museums should be open and brave, they should acknowledge their visitors´ different agendas and try to orientate them in their quest. Most of all, they should make it clear that no visitor is more welcome than another.  

Back to me, a museum visitor like many others, I take my El Greco any way it comes. I love the intimate encounters, those precious moments when I can have him all to myself and I can stop and look and feel as much as I want. But more than once already I had to share him with many-many more people, I had to queue and wait patiently for my turn to stand in front of a painting, feeling a bit pressured by the next person in line. It´s all part of the ritual. I knew it would be that way and I also enjoyed the feeling of community, of shared pleasure and enjoyment. I love quiet museums and I love busy museums. I love museums.


Still on this blog

More readings
Are blockbuster exhibitions worth queueing for?. Interviews with Miranda Sawyer and Charles Saumarez Smith in the Observer (12.11.2011)
Blockbuster art: good or bad? Interviews by Emine Saner in the Guardian (25.1.2013)


Monday, 3 June 2013

Guest post: "'The Fairy Queen' in South Africa", by Shirley Apthorp

I met Shirley Aprthorp a few months ago in a conference in Lisbon. At that time, I heard her speak about young people in South Africa filling a 6000-seat venue in order to participate in a national opera contest (a “dying” art form, some say…). After that, we stayed in touch through Facebook, and there I could follow all the preparations for the presentation of Purcell´s The Fairy Queen in Johannesburg and Cape Town. In this post, Shirley writes about the love for opera among South African school children; about Umculo, the music organization she founded; and about her conviction that South Africa has a huge role to play in the future of opera as a meaningful artform for the whole world. mv

The Fairy Queen, Umculo 2012/2013 (Photo: Neil Baynes)

Monday, 27 May 2013

Setting the table


Netherlands Architecture Institute (Photo: Maria Vlachou)
How complicated can it be to set a table for a meal? Probably more than you think and not for the reasons you might think. A few years ago I visited the Netherlands Architecture Institute in Rotterdam and one of the ‘installations’ particularly drew my attention. A table was set for a meal and visitors were informed that the mayor had invited for lunch people who lived in the city but were born in other countries (half of Rotterdam´s population belongs to an immigrant community). Setting the table meant that a number of cultural issues had to be taken into consideration. “Sharing food with strangers”, one read on a panel, “can be as complicated as living together in a multicultural city.” Sitting around a table for a meal, as such; men and women together; sharing food with people from other religions; cooking for people with different dietary requirements; these were all issues the hosts had to think about. I was left thinking how rich, and possibly also transformative, this simple exprerience of having a meal together would be for those directly involved, but also for those following the event. How many things one can learn about the ‘other’ just by accepting this invitation, by being together, by being introduced to the ‘other’.  How many things one can learn when the opportunity is given and taken.

Netherlands Architecture Institute (Photo: Maria Vlachou)
Gender, colour, ethnicity, religion, sexual orientation, physical and mental or financial capacities, are just some of the characterirstics that make another human being the ‘other’. First we see the characteriristic, after (and not always) the actual human being. They constitute barriers which, allied to ignorance, may cause detachment, incomprehension, fear, discomfort, rage, leading to discrimination or racism.

Last summer, my son and I watched many transmissions of the Paralympic Games. I didn´t want to influence him as to how he should look at the athletes, what he should think or feel. We screamed, we applauded, we celebrated with the winners. Yet, I could feel that he was not totally comfortable. One day he came to me and said: “I feel a bit sad for them.” There, it had come out. I told him that I knew, that some times I felt sad too, but that I would look at them and see how happy and proud they were of their results and the sadness would go away. I told him that they live their lives in a different way, but that it´s not a sad life because of that, it´s just different in some aspects.

Paralympic Games, London 2012 (Image taken from the newspaper The Telegraph; photo Lefteris  Pitarakis /AP)
There was a lot of discussion at the time, in the media and in other informal forums, regarding the effect the transmission of the Paralympic Games would have on the way we all perceive disability. Journalists in different countries referred to the athletes as heroes, to their efforts as superhuman. I kept thinking if this was the right way to portray disabled athletes or if we should look at them as people with different abilities making the same enormous effort to obtain good results as any other athlete; in their way. I believed that this should be exactly the result we should expect from the transmission of the Games in what concerns changing the public´s perceptions. Look at the people behind the disability, not to highlight it and let it define them.

And then, I came across an article entitled Disabled people are notyour inspiration.  Written by S.E. Smith, it made me feel that my thinking was not very far from the thinking of (at least some) disabled people. She wrote about the emotion she felt when watching the opening ceremony and how the whole thing – watching disabled athletes parade, disabled artists perform, asking “those who are able” to stand for the national anthem - made her feel ‘normal’ for a change. At the same time, she expressed her frustration with the fact that disabled athletes where being seen as “amazing”, “moving”, an “inspiration” for others. Quoting another disabled person, she stated: “The whole idea that we’re inspiring is grounded in the ‘assumption that [disabled] people have terrible lives and that it takes some extra kind of pluck or courage to live them.’”

When I started working with disabled people in the cultural sector, my aim when promoting events was to highlight the disability. I believed that that´s what truly differentiated the offer, that´s what would catch people´s attention and curiosity, that´s what would make them feel surprised and impressed and create the wish to attend. In the meantime, I learned two things: that people do feel impressed and amazed, but they tend to consider the offer as of lower artistic quality and they don´t necessarily wish to attend; and that disabled artists don´t wish to be seen firstly as disabled, they wish to be seen as artists.

I was recently invited to participate in a debate regarding disability and the media, organized by Fundação AFID Diferença. People representing associations for the disabled complained of the fact that there is little space for their stories in the media and that usually the media is interested in sad, tragic tales, which catch people´s attention and make them feel sorry (and probably also lucky and relieved that they are not sharing a disabled person´s ‘fate’). Happy, positive, optimistic stories involving disabled people rarely get coverage.

This is true. But at the same time, I am thinking that maybe this is not what should concern us the most. Sharing a good story through the media may, actually, help change people´s perceptions and fight certain prejudices. But will it be as effective as actually providing a space where people can be together, get to see and know each other, talk, share, coexist, interact, acknowledge the difference and not consider it a problem? For me, culture and cultural venues can do exactly that. They can provide a ‘place’ to meet the ‘other’.

When I was working at the Pavilion of Knowledge (at the time when it had a service for people with disabilities, unique in Portugal and a reference also abroad), I know there were visitors that would actually see or come close to disabled people (visitors or members of staff) for the first time. One of the first events I was involved in was the celebration of Helen Keller Day in 2001, where school children that could not see or could neither see nor hear showed other school children, who could both see and hear, that they had their own ways of communication and learning at school.

Desafinado, Grupo Dançando com a Diferença (Photo: Júlio Silva Castro)
Later on, when I worked at Lisbon´s Municipal Theatre, we organized the first sessions with interpretation of theatre plays in Portuguese Sign Language. Both hearing and non-hearing people would sit in the same room and enjoy the same performance. For some, attending a play with interpretation in PSL was an experience they had never had before; others would realize for the first time that there exist deaf people and they can actually go to the theatre; deaf people were pleased to see that they were in the same performance with hearing people, that it was not a ‘special’ session, just for them. Some time later, when we presented performances by Vo´Arte and Grupo Dançando com a Diferença or Inkomati (dis)cord by Boyzie Cekwana and Panaibra Canda in the last alkantara festival, the audience was not ‘warned’ beforehand that there were disabled dancers on stage, they came and found out for themselves. And I believe that many saw the person, the artist, first and were also pleasantly surprised with the quality of the performance.  Nobody needed to tell them a happy story, it was there, in front of them, they could see it and even talk to it.

When actor Morgan Freeman was asked “How can we fight racism”, his answer was short and clear: “Stop talking about it”. When Daniel Barenboim was asked about the impact the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra may have on the peace process between Israel and Palestine, he was quick to clarify: "The Divan is not a love story, and it is not a peace story. It has very flatteringly been described as a project for peace. It isn't. It's not going to bring peace, whether you play well or not so well. The Divan was conceived as a project against ignorance.” A way of fighting ignorance is bringing the people together, give them the chance to get to know each other, their differences and their similarities. The more encounters there are, the more we trust, the more we are willing to learn and understand, the more we respect, the more we acknowledge the richness in diversity. The more we see the person and wish to share a meal; in certain cultures, the ultimate gesture of friendship and hospitality.


Still on this blog:


Monday, 4 February 2013

Discussing values, from Brazil to Lebanon


Image taken from www.cultura.gov.br
In June 2011 I was writing about a law proposal of the brazilian government that would create the Vale Cultura, a culture stipend that would allow for a subsidy of R$50 (approximately €22) for workers earning up to five times the minimum salary, in order to facilitate access to products and services in the areas of visual arts, performing arts, audiovisual, litetrature, music and cultural heritage.

I had been very critical at the time. Not because I didn´t believe that thousands of people would benefit, but, mainly, because of the objectives it was announced it was going to achieve. In its proposal, the government presented this initiative as a way “to allow for access and fruition of cultural products and services; to stimulate the visitation of establishments that provide the integration of science, education and culture; and to encourage access to cultural and artistic events and performances”. On the other hand, Roberto Baungartner, in his article Democratização do Acesso à Cultura (Democratizing access to culture), seemed convinced, that, apart from benefiting culture itself, the stipend would create more jobs and income, it would reduce violence, it would increment, on the side of the demand, the production chains involved and it would make brazilian companies more competitive at an international level.


Today, Vale Cultura is a reality. From the US (here and here) to Lebanon (here), it has been received as a great source of inspiration. And it´s a good thing it has, because there is no other such initiative (at least, I don´t know of any) and thus, it is important to follow and evaluate it based on the objectives it aims to reach. Nevertheless, the reports and opinions I ´ve read so far only consider the logistics: who pays what, how, etc. Thus, my 2011 doubts and criticism remain.

What would it mean to a Brazilian (or Portuguese or Greek or Lebanese) to receive a stipend to spend on ‘culture’ when where he/she lives, or in the proximities, there´s no cinema, no theatre, no museum, no bookshop? What are they supposed to do with it? And, on the other hand, which was the study that revealed that, in places where these venues exist, the majority of people that didn´t go to them didn´t have the money to do it?


I don´t mean to say that there are no people who enjoy or have a pre-disposition to participate in cultural activities, but who are not able to have access to them due to financial limitations. Especially now. Nevertheless, I consider the existing mental and psychological barriers between people and cultural institutions and certain forms of art, in any part of the world, to be bigger and more determinating than the financial barrier, especially in the case of all those who haven´t got the habit of participating. Who among us is willing to invest – not only money, time even – on something that doesn´t seem interesting or relevant or comprehensible in the first place? Or on something that seems distant or or something that doesn’t even exist?

It is worth listening to and analyzing the details of the interviews with some brazilian workers on a TV programme, where the Secretary of Cultural Policies of the Ministry of Culture, Sérgio Mamberti, was also interviewed: a lady says that she had never even had the courage to get close to the Municipal Theatre and ask how much it was, considering that, being so beautiful and big, it would also be very expensive; a gentleman says that he doesn´t have the habit of attending, but that he would like to have an incentive to do so; and another gentleman states: “As we are a country with great miscegenation, we´ve got lots to give to the world. I believe that we take little advantage of this, because people haven´t got access not only to enjoy culture but also to the person that makes culture. So, I believe that this incentive, apart from incentivating people to go to the theatre, to go to the cinema, it will incentivate them to study theatre, to study cinema. They´ll get to know things they didn´t know and many people will get interested in these subjects and will become part of the other side, not only the side of the spectator”. [sic]


The interviews with the workers reveal, in my opinion, the prejudices, the misunderstandings, the mutual lack of understanding between the two sides, the lack of habits, in other words, the lack of access related, first of all, to intellectual and psychological barriers. Thus, I believe that those who study, develop and implement cultural policies should first look at these barriers, while at the same time trying to facilitate access on a financial point of view. To start backwards, insisting in considering money to be the principal factor of inhibition in this relationship, is to insist hiding one´s head in the sand or taking the easy way forward.

In the meantime, while news about Vale Cultura are spreading around the world, another piece of news, also coming from Brazil, has had a more discreet circulation, at least for someone living away from that country. According to those news (read here), in the municipality of Santo André, in the brazilian state of São Paulo, a cultural movement – that brings together the so-called Points of Culture (local associations promoting cultural activities), students, teachers, writers, social movements and other members of the local population – demanded and was successful in booking a hearing with the state´s Secretary of Culture. They wanted to know what were the plans of the Secretariat of Culture and demanded public participation in the management. They didn´t make things easy for the Secretary, they didn´t take generalities and promises for an answer, they insisted with questions and criticism, they got irritated, they lost their patience, they weren´t touched by the Secretary´s demonsatration of humility – when he stated that he had lots to learn from them – and protested about his lack of preparation for the job. How did this happen in Santo André? What does it take for this to happen? How does this feeling of belonging, of a sense of what constitutes a civic right and an obligation  towards the affairs of culture, come about? This is news, yes, probably greated news than the creation of Vale Cultura and thus, it is worth paying greater attention to it and following the situation closely. Santo André should be a case study.

More readings
Walker, C., Scott-Melnyk, S. and Sherwood, K. (2002) From Reggae to Rachmaninoff, How and why people participate in arts and culture.
Wallace Foundation, The (2009). Engaging audiences.

Monday, 28 January 2013

Guest post: "A small step for a man, a giant leap for a museum", by Ania Danilewicz (Poland)


I met Ania Danilewicz last October. She was in Portugal for a few months and she wanted to know more about museums and in particular about GAM – Group for Access to Museums. Two more meetings followed after that, long conversations, and in both of them Ania striked me with her energy, her eagerness to learn, her critical spirit, her wish to intervene and to do more. In this post she shares, with great sense of humour, her thoughts and feelings about going back to her country, full of ideas that would seem to be of no use in an environment quite resistant to change, only to realize that good things do happen everywhere, even at her own museum, even if at a smaller scale. It´s not impossible, but it´s one step at a time. The lucky ones meet three old ladies in the way... mv

Adam Malysz, Polish olympic champion in ski jumping (Photo: Associated Press/East News)
Some time ago, three really old ladies were visiting our exhibition. This is a quite modern presentation (interactive too), but they preferred the old-fashioned style of touring: just looking, not touching, going around in silence, keeping a distance from all exhibits. However, they were satisfied, because the exhibition was showing the town at the time of their youth. Close to the exit one of the guides approached them:

“-Have you already tried our new listening station?”
“-For God’s sake, no! It’s not for us… let’s give space to the youngsters…”
“-But you can find original songs there, from the time of your youth!”, insisted the guide. “You see, this is an original phone from the 30s. If you choose the odd numbers, you can listen to all these hits!”

And the three old ladies did it. They picked up the phone, which is a listening station, and they all moved closer to the handset. Closer, but still carefully. Some time later they started... to sing softly, giggling like little girls. They tried also even numbers, which contain the same songs, but in a contemporary remix. And they enjoyed it so much!


Why am I writing about this story? Because it saved me from the post-Portuguese slump! Here are some of the symptomes of my recent sickness (if you recognise any of them, look for three old ladies as soon as possible!).


I returned recently from a longer visit to Portugal, where one of my permanent occupations was visiting museums and meeting with people from the sector. During my stay, I discovered, with pleasure and amazement, great museum attractions, such as a special touring route in the Tile Museum (Museu do Azulejo) composed of the replicas of azulejos panels  especially made for the blind – to be touched and to recognize a structure, shape, surface and colours -, but received with interest by other visitors too. I was enormously delighted with my visit to the Batalha Community Museum (Museu da Communidade Concelha da Batalha), admiring all amenities that make this small institution so special for the local community and so important for the  worldwide network of museum professionals. And I’ve appreciated a lot all my conversations with Maria Vlachou in the context of accessibility and the GAM - Group for Access to Museums (Grupo para a Accessibilidade nos Museos).

I have also realized, of course, that marvellous examples are the exceptions that confirm the rule. And the rule is the same like everywhere – that the majority of museums are not so modern, open and ready for new trends. But anyway, I found enough good examples to feel inspired and motivated for new projects in my museum.


I work for The Army Museum in Bialystok, a mid-sized institution, without any special distinction. It’s modern enough (the entire permanent exhibition was changed in the last three years, the first time in… 38 years) to offer visitors nice tours and programmes. But it’s also quite underfunded and old-fashioned, in need of further development. So my return meant two things: the confrontation of the inspiring ideas I was bringing with me with the museum reality; and the obligation to write this post for Maria about the museum sector in my city and country.

And this was the genesis of my sickness. I was searching like crazy for something good and impressive enough to be worth showing on this international blog. “What can possibly stand next to the Louvre or National Museums in Liverpool!?”, I though to myself.  A friend of mine asked the simplest question: “Why not your museum?”. At first, I burst out laughing, but soon after I met the three ladies I mentioned and that experience convinced me, in fact, of how easy and simple the use and implementation of ideas like accessibility, openness, participation could be, even if results are not so spectacular as in some other cases (Liverpool, Portugal, Louvre).


The three ladies showed me that creating an accessible and friendly environment could simply mean giving appropriate information and being ready to adapt existing conditions to the needs of different visitors. If we had proposed the ladies to listen to modern remixes of old sings, they would have refused for sure, like they did when I proposed to them to try the ‘listening station’. ‘Remix’ and ‘listening station’ are not words from their world. But an invitation to answer the phone, that plays the role of the listening station, seams to be a good way to convince them to interact with the display, as well as introduce them to modern music. Ipso facto, they jumped from the level of “individual consumes content” to “individual interaction” (presented by Nina Simon in her blog, one of diagrams about social participation) without any special action or programme from us. If it is so easy, why don’t we try that more often? Creating that display, we had also planned an audio description for blind people and an audio guide for all visitors. Not having enough money to buy two sets of mobile devices, we decided to record one narration, attractive to any visitor, regardless of disabilities or abilities. And just then we realized that this is an example of universal thinking and designing, which is one of the most important challenges for museums now. Wow, we can do that too!


I could also mention another example from my first days in the museum. It was March 2011 and the best Polish ski jumper, a national hero for all Poles, Adam Małysz was ending his professional career. Many people took part in the spontaneous action “The whole of Poland wears a moustache” (Adam Małysz has a very characteristic moustache...), where everyone put on a fake moustache (some even grew it especially for the occasion!). And we did it too! At a time when the museum was mostly seen as an old-style, conservative place, we glued colourful paper moustaches to all our soldiers in the exhibition. And that was it! That simple action changed our image radically, showing us and other people that we could take a step back and look at ourselves with a sense of humour and, despite the so serious historical plots in our displays, we could also be funny, people-oriented. It was just one day, but it gave the team an incredible power to start thinking about actions from a totally different perspective, overcoming set templates.

Photo: The Army Museum in Bialystok
Maybe these examples are not big, significant or impressive enough to be presented between notes about National Museums Liverpool ot the Louvre. But they do show that big change often begins with small steps. It is easy to say that we cannot change anything, due to lack of money or people. It is much more challenging and important to start with the question: what can I change or improve in my surrounding right now? These small steps may sometimes have a wider influence than a big action. They prepare us to transform and adapt because of a need, not just due to special, sporadic occasions.



I am almost recovering from my post-Portugal depression. Almost, because deep inside I still have that strong need to implement and develop all possible new elements in our programme. But now I know how to do that – step by step.


Anna Danilewicz is a cultural animator and manager, Head of the Department of Education and Organization of Exhibitions in the Army Museum in Bialystok. She previously worked for the Drama Theatre in Białystok and was a juornalist for the biggest newspaper in Podlasie region, Gazeta Wspolczesna. She has cooperated with many associations and some independent projects, such as Street Culture Enthusiasts Association ENGRAM, Borderland Summer School, Foundation of the University of Białystok, Marcel Hicter Foundation in Brussels. She got the European Diploma for Cultural Projects Management in 2012 and attended the International Seminar for Cultural Operators, organized by the National Centre for Culture and the Foundation Marcel Hicter. She graduated from Bialystok University in 2005.

Monday, 10 December 2012

Magic places


Workshop by Ricardo Lopes (Photo: Vasco Célio / Stills)
Blockbuster exhibitions attract big audiences and a lot of attention. They are perceived as “once in a lifetime” events. In the last twelve months, three of the big highlights were: Leonardo da Vinci: Painter at the Milan Court at the National Gallery in London; the Damien Hirst retrospective at the Tate Modern (it ran from April to September and by the time it closed it was the most popular solo show in the museum´s history); and there was also The Steins Collect: Matisse, Picasso and the parisian Avant-Garde at the Metropolitan Museum of Art (although, in the this case, the big issue was that the fashion exhibition Schiaparelli and Prada: Impossible Conversations, also at the Metropolitan, had outdrown the art blockbuster in terms of attendance - read here).

On the occasion of the Leonardo exhibition, the Guardian launched the debate “Are blockbuster art shows worth queueing for?” and Observer writer Miranda Sawyer and Royal Academy CEO Charles Saumarez Smith  - defending the ‘no’ and the ‘yes’ respectively – discussed if and how can one appreciate art in crowded exhibition rooms. At the time, James Page added a more interesting aspect to this debate, by reminding in his blog that the discussion was revealing in a number of ways, not just in terms of the views of the two protagonists, but also as a natural tendency within the cultural sector to ask itself how its audiences think, feel or act rather than go direct to the audiences in question”.

Blockbuster exhibitions also raise the issue of scale. And this seems to be a great concern for a lot of people, since both as citizens in general, and as professionals in particular, they tend to feel small - and by ‘small’ they mean powerless, unable to create an impact.

The issue of scale has been in my mind as well. My thoughts recently have mostly concentrated on ideas and actions that are probably of a small or medium scale, but which still have an impact and can still make a difference in other people´s lives - apart from our own, of course. They are the ideas and actions that are within our reach, but which can still contribute towards a bigger whole.


Workshop by Maria Alcobia (Photo: Vasco Célio / Stills)
The project “Magic places” is an initiative of the Regional Cultural Authority of the Algarve. It brings together historic sites and contemporary artistic creation; it becomes the ‘magic place’ of an encounter between artists and young people under the care of social services. In concrete terms, this means that artists Maria Alcobia, Vasco Célio, Ricardo Lopes and Miguel Cheta (from the fields of dance, photography, ceramics and design respectively), coordinated by Tânia Borges Nunes (Atelier Educativo), worked together with young people and, inspired by the local heritage, taught them the technics of their art and produced some beautiful pieces together.

After the first edition, in 2010, there was a publication with texts written by all those involved. The second edition, in 2012, resulted in a one-day meeting last month, which brought together those involved and gave us the opportunity to get to know the project in more detail. Right in the start, a rare accomplishment took place in front of our eyes: representatives of the culture, education, and social fields sat around the same table and praised a project which they believe has accomplished a goal common to them all (isn´t this what it´s all about, how it should always be?). The day then went on and through films, photos and debates, we got to understand the huge vision behind this rather small-scale project.

There is no doubt that this has had a significant impact in the lives of all those involved. Listening to them, one realizes that it has been a process of discovery and inspiration and, in some cases, a mind-changing experience regarding ‘normality’ and ‘inclusion’. In that aspect, it seems that the objectives set by Regional Director Dália Paulo – “to allow for different perspectives, dialogues and experiences among the target audience, in a full exercise of citizenship” and “culture [as] an engine for social change” – have been met. I just felt it was a pity we didn´t get to hear the voice of the young people themselves, we didn´t get to hear the story of their participation and what it meant to them in their own words (an indication that the ‘natural tendency’ of the british cultural sector that James Page was talking about, also affects the portuguese cultural sector). Filomena Rosa, president of one of the social institutions involved, did bring some feedback, quoting in her presentation a few of the young people involved: “Photos in the town! I didn´t use to pay attention before, they were just old stones, but through the photos I learned”; or “I learned that a photo has got a lot to say, like a landscape that says something to us, with feelings”.


Workshop by Vasco Célio (Photo: Vasco Célio / Stills)  
In my final comment that day, I recalled the brazilian choreographer Lia Rodrigues - who didn´t set up her studio at a Rio de Janeiro slum wishing to resolve the problem of poverty or violence - and Daniel Barenboim – who didn´t create the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra hoping to bring peace in the Middle East (more in my post Places of encounter). The contribution of Culture, in the first place, is not related to issues like poverty, violence, crime, mental health, illiteracy, etc. Artists and culture professionals in general do not aim to take the role of social workers, teachers, politicians, policemen, priests or doctors. Culture, in the first place, is about critical thinking, self-expression (verbal and non-verbal), creativity, sensitivity; it´s about getting to know the ‘other’. So in that sense, when everything (culture, education, social action) comes together – in a ‘place of encounter’ or in a ‘magic place’ - I believe we have more chances of building a more democratic, more tolerant, more inclusive society; a society where we don´t live in compartments and we don´t define the ‘other’ based on their differences, but simply see them as human beings (not ´special´ or ‘disabled’ or ‘different’ or even ‘problematic’). “Magic Places” is the kind of project that brings together the necessary ingredients that can make this happen.

One final note: I was twice in Algarve recently in meetings with culture professionals. I felt there is a clear sense of purpose among them, there is a lot of motivation and dedication to the ‘cause’, there is satisfaction for what has been accomplished and a wish for more. And everything and everyone point towards the Regional Director, our colleague Dália Paulo. There is no doubt for me that it´s her vision, her professionalism, her knowledge and capacities that drive and inspire the whole team. Dália Paulo and the rest of the colleagues I met there are doing things at their own scale, making a ‘blockbuster’ difference in the lives of those living in the region. They are Wangari Maathai´s hummingbirds.




Monday, 3 December 2012

Says who?


Giselle Ciulla, 'curator' of Giselle´s Remix. (Photo taken from the website of Clark Art Institute)

uCurate is an initiative by Clark Art Institute in Williamstown, USA. It is a digital application that allows people to design imaginary exhibitions made up with objects from the museum collection. Proposals enter a competition and the winner gets to set up a real exhibition with the museum´s help. In this first edition, and after evaluating almost 1000 proposals, the winner was an 11-yaer-old girl, Giselle Ciulla, who´s inviting us now to visit Giselle´s Remix (more here).

It´s so good to see Giselle´s happy face and we can almost feel how proud she is of her exhibition. This is also the role of museums in society, a role that allows for involvement, active participation, which recognizes that there are more than one versions of the ‘truth’ and creates a place for them to be shared, even if this is about 11-year-old children. The objects´ labels were written by Giselle herself. They convey simplicity and freshness, they demonstrate sensitivity. A few years ago I had seen lables written by visitors at the Tate Britain and I had also liked them a lot. For me, they were, for me, as interesting as the others, the ‘official’ ones. At the time (it was in 2004) Maev Kennedy of the Guardian had found the initiative dubious. On the otehr hand, Tate Britain´s director at the time, Stephen Deuchar, was saying that he would be particularly interested in the contributions of visitors who might know much more on a painting than the museum experts or the artists themselves (read here).

On 12th to 14th of November I was at the conference In the name of the arts or in the name of the audiences, organized by Culturgest in collaboration with the programme Descobrir of the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation. One of the main concerns of those present seemed to be the issue of ‘authority’ regarding the interpretation of a work of art. When I did my master´s, we were ‘warned’ that people acknowledged authority in museums, they considered the information they found in them as a ‘validated truth’. But even at that time, and it´s been almost 20 years, we were questioning ourselves regarding the possibility (and the obligation) to create the space for more than one story to be told.


Well, there is still a concern and lots of thinking about it. The concept of participatory museum (so well substantiated in theory and in practice by Nina Simon) is being widely accepted. An interesting case, among others, at the above mentioned conference was that of the dTOURS at the contemporary art exhibition dOCUMENTA. These were (paid) guided tours given by people of various ages and backgrounds, the majority residing in Kassel, the city that hosts the exhibition. The dTOURS had taken place for the first time in the previous edition, dOCUMENTA 12, and they had resulted in a number of complaints from the audience. Although the organizers had informed that the tours would be given by non-specialists, participants still felt ‘cheated’, their expectations had been different. Nevertheless, and despite the not so positive evaluation, dOCUMENTA 13 repeted the tours.

A number of issues are raised here: Why repeat an initiative, in exactly the same way, if it was not positively evaluated? Are we ignoring – in the name of experimentation, of exploration, of a wish to do more and better – people´s basic needs, such as listen to what a specialist has to say on a specific subject, such as in a ‘normal’ guided tour, such as in a ‘normal’ label? Are we walking towards an opposite extreme, where “visitors know best” (even “more than the artists themselves”, to quote again the Tate Britain´s former director)?

Clay Shirky´s book Cognitive Surplus: How Technology Makes Consumers into Collaborators  tells us about the pro-am (professional – amateur) movement and how new technologies allow us today to use people´s enormous cognitive surplus. People are eager to contribute with their knowledge (without being paid for it, just because it makes them feel good, useful, involved) towards all sorts of projects, social causes, etc. Wikipedia is such an example. Ian David Moss argued in his blog Createquity that the model of Wikipedia may be applied to culture, in programming or in distributing funds (read here).

People continue looking for information in museums. In an article by Stephen Weil entitled “The Museum and the Public” (included in the book Museums and their communities, edited by Sheila Watson), I read that, after the era of ‘celebratory’ and assertive museums, there was a new trend, that of admitting that what´s being said is not a closed issue, it could be open to different interpretations or the subject of ongoing research. It´s worth mentioning that it was a natural history museum (the American Museum of Natural History) one of the first to present labels which said “what we know so far”, “but we might be wrong, it´s happened before, there is an ongoing reserach”, etc. Maybe because scientists are more at ease than other specialists with testing and error and with admitting that they had been wrong. 

Specialists don´t know everything, but they know a lot, more than we do in their specific areas. We may find them in and out of museums, they may be professionals or amateurs, and together they may contribute in the development of our knowledge. I, as a visitor, still look for their opinion, for their ‘version', not because I wish to accept it as if it was the Bible, but because with it I can build my own opinion, my own knowledge. At the same time, going beyond information, and considering that a museum visit is also feelings, surprises, emotions, sharing, previous knowledge and experiences, memories, the specialist – when also a good mediator or facilitator (or...) – will know how to create that space where everyone can contribute with their ideas, their experiences, their interpretations, their reactions. That space where there are no specialists and non-specialists, right or wrong. Thus, the participatory museum for me is not the museum  which, in the name of cultural democracy, passes the responsibility for one of its main functions over to the visitor. The participatory museum is that which gives ‘Giselle’ (each one of us) the tools to build and admit without fear her tastes, opinions, sensitivities and which creates the space for them to be hosted and shared with everyone.


This text is based on my short intervention during the closing of the conference In the name of the arts or in the name of the audiences, on November 14.

More readings
Museu2.0: a arte de ouvir o público, in the newspaper O Globo (27.11.2012)
Selling a product vs building a movement, by Nina Simon
When painting labels do their job, by Hrag Vartanian in Hyperallergic
Stories from the field: The Walters Art Museum, by Dallas Shelby
"GO", a group show at the Brooklyn Museum, by Martha Schwendener 
The power of non-experts, by Desi Gonzalez

Still on this blog
We are for people. Or… are we?
La crise oblige? (ii) Programming challenges
Building a family: lessons from the social sector
Free to visit an art museum
Museums: new churches?

Monday, 29 October 2012

What - or who - is the barrier?

Mertola Castle (Photo: Fátima Alves)

A family arrives at the foot of Mertola Castle. They have four children. The mobility of one of them, a 10/11-year-old boy, is quite conditioned. One of his brothers picks up the stroller and runs to the top of the steps that lead to the entrance of the castle. The mother supports her son from the arm and they slowly start going up. Half-way, she suggests they took a rest. The boy prefers to continue. He´s making an enormous effort to place his foot on the next step; he´s tired and his foot is trembling. I don´t want to overtake them; I follow them, I go along with their rhythm. Once at the top of the steps, the boy finally takes a rest. His mother moves on a bit, trying to evaluate the difficulty of the rest of the way.

I witnessed this ‘ascend to the castle’ at the end of a week where I attended two meetings on museums and accessibility: the annual seminar of GAM –Group for Access to Museums, entitled Programming for Diversity, and the 1st Crossborder Encounter of Museum Professionals in Alcoutim.  A few days before GAM´s seminar, I had met with a Polish colleague who asked me: “What do you expect of these meetings?”.

Among museum professionals, accessibility is more and more of an issue. And the concept of ‘accessibility’ constantly grows and widens. It´s not only about being concerned and also obliged to attend to the needs of people with disabilities (physical and cognitive), but to a wide spectrum of intellectual, social and cultural needs of all citizens. It´s also about managing and being able to take advantage of people´s growing wish and need to be involved in the process of decision-making, so that they may feel represented in the final products museums propose to their audiences (my presentation on this subject in Alcoutim is available on the right-hand column).

I am writing this text approximately one week after and I realize that the issues that marked me the most in these two meetings and which made me think more were all related to mentality, our mentality, that of museum professionals.

Fernando António Baptista Pereira, a professor at the School of Fine Arts and curator of a number of exhibitions presented in Portugal and abroad, was the keynote speaker at GAM´s annual seminar. When asked which was his best and worst exhibition, he didn´t hesitate to admit that his worst exhibitions, although extremely beautiful, were those he had done for his peers, those which were not done with the general public in mind. Hearing this from someone who has curated and will curate in the future exhibitions which attract large numbers of visitors is a sign of hope. And just like Fernando António Baptista Pereira, there are surely more professionals in this field (curators and museum directors) who, even though they don´t say it, they know it is so. So, one wonders when we can expect to see in portuguese museums, especially national (public) museums, exhibitions which may be understood by the non-specialists who visit them and form the majority of visitors. When can we expect to see exhibitions which may be a source of new knowledge, true pleasure and discovery, instead of being a means of communication and dialogue among the ‘initiated’ few, while a source of frustration for the rest?

In Alcoutim, we had the opportunity to hear Maribel Rodriguez Achutégui talking about “Writing exhibition texts for all audiences”, which reminded us that it is possible, yes, to write for all, without making it sound childish, without vulgarizing, without compromising the scientific accuracy of the information we present. And to some of us, this brought back memories of GAM´s first annual seminar, back in 2006, “Do you know how to write for all? The accessibility of written communication in museums”, which was marked by two very special speakers: the late Helen Coxall (a museum language consultant – yes, the specialization exists, just like there exists extensive bibliography on this issue, part of it available on GAM´s website) and Julia Cassim (a designer associated to the Helen Hamlyn Centre for Inclusive Design). Later in that same year, Helen Coxall did a memorable workshop, Am I Communicating? Writing effective museum texts, organized by GAM at the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation. What has been the impact of these initiatives in Portugal? Those working in education services frequently complain that it is very difficult to convince museum directors and curators of the need to write texts in a more accessible language (not just exhibition texts, but texts for all sorts of supporting materials museums produce in order to communicate with people) – I can think of some exceptions, though, like the texts of the exhibition on automobiles at the Transport and Communications Museum in Porto or those at the Batalha Community Museum, to mention just two. One wonders, why is it so difficult to convince them? Have they never heard their visitors´s complaints? Or they don´t mind about them?

Another brilliant and very ‘educational’ presentation was that of graphic designer Filipe Trigo, who brought to us a number of examples we have all encountered during our visits to museums and exhibitions: books on the wall, small font size, labels which are hidden or placed too low or too high, constrasts that make reading impossible, a total anarchy in the presentation of contents (placed wherever it might be more convenient, without any logic), inadequate lighting. This presentation deserves to be seen by curators and museum directors, as well as graphic designers, as there doesn´t seem to exist consensus as to who imposes solutions on whom. There is distrust, though, and maybe also a somehow vague definition of the role of each one and, between the two, that of the museologist and/or education and communications staff. Woudln´t it make sense that each one was heard in the area of his/her speciality, with the final aim of offering visitors a better service?

Today I would be able to give a better answer to my Polish colleague´s question “What do you expect of these encounters?”. I expect that next time there is a meeting to discuss accessibility (any kind of accessibility) there are more museum directors, curators, architects and designers in the audience. This does not concern just the education staff. I would even say that it concerns more and more those who make the final decisions. What is the point of raising awareness among and giving technical preparation in museum studies courses to future museum professionals, who only in 20-30 years from now will be in a position to make decisions, if in the next 20-30 years they will be encountering the greatest barrier of all inside museums themselves? If these meetings go on being an opportunity for those already aware to get together and agree between themselves, their impact will continue being limited, almost inexistant. There is a need to make commitments and not just politically correct statements. There is also an obligation to abide by the law. And it has to be now, not in 20/30-years time. It doesn´t cost anything (and it doesn´t cost more...).


Videos
Joaquina Bobes, Textos expositivos y visitantes: ¿hablamos el mismo idioma? (with english translation from minute 14´35´´)
Julia Cassim, Inclusive design