Public Humanities| museum visit
Public Humanities| museum visit
Is it true that museums are only about history? And if so, doesn’t that sound a bit dull?
At the Berg en Dal World Museum (Africa Museum), the very first items on display are old combs. However, the curator doesn’t explain them through historic techniques or social context alone. Instead, they place photographs of fashion hairstyles right next to these ancient objects. This simple yet striking juxtaposition allows visitors to effortlessly connect the past with the present.
What a brilliant concept! Museums are dialogues—between objects and people, cultural history and contemporary society.
At the World Museum Leiden, there is a display labeled "Chinese Pick-Me-Up" in the Exhibition China, where opium and tea sets are shown side by side. This display is one of the most confusing parts for Chinese visitors. We often regard tea as an elegant part of daily life, while opium is seen as decadent. Why are they grouped in the same category?
In Chinatowns in the West, tea houses and pipe houses represent two distinct consumption spaces, each with its own cultural symbolism. However, the former might sometimes serve as a cover for the latter. In the specific Dutch context, cafes serving drinks and coffee shops offering weeds co-exist to cater to consumers, especially in gloomy weather. Could this be the reason for the juxtaposition of tea and opium in a Dutch museum—an interpretation not from the perspective of another culture, but through an understanding of "our" own?
In art museums, paintings are usually hung on walls, allowing the audience to appreciate the drawing surface. However, in some galleries at the Depot Boijmans Van Beuningen, paintings are displayed on freestanding glass easels, offering visitors the opportunity to examine their backs.
What kinds of information can we find on the backs? Some paintings were intentionally created on both sides of the panels, such as foldable triptychs that can be viewed both folded and unfolded. In other cases, the backs were not meant to be seen—only revealing that a painter, unable to afford a new panel, reused it after being dissatisfied with an earlier work.
Sometimes, the back of a painting contains no drawings at all but provides fascinating information added after its creation. For example, there may be inscriptions, stamps, seals, or labels that document its history of purchase, collection, storage, and curation. Lastly, the framing and preservation techniques visible on the back offer insights into the processes of art production and protection.
So, enjoy your journey into the "backstreet!"
A few days ago, I had a conversation with a friend and colleague who is a museum educator and anthropologist. He argued that education should take precedence over display design in exhibition curation, and I found this perspective deeply thought-provoking.
Visiting the DIVA exhibition at Kunsthal Rotterdam did not help me resolve the debate between education and curation, but it raised another question about displayed objects.
The exhibition traces the history of the diva from the 19th century to the present through displays of costumes, posters, photographs, and videos of their performances. A strong educational message of feminism is evident—particularly for those who read the explanatory texts, which emphasize the struggles for social respect and the responsibilities divas have carried. However, simply looking at the showcases and listening to the divas’ singing through the headset does not convey these viewpoints.
The displayed objects are completely removed from their original context—a live music performance at a specific time and place—and are subject to the curators' interpretation, which could potentially frame them in ways that align with, or even contradict, their original meaning. Curation is a carefully constructed narrative, but what, then, is the role of the displayed objects themselves?
The Van Abbemuseum in Eindhoven is well-known for its collections of modern and contemporary artworks, as well as for its curatorial approach that encourages visitors to experience art through different senses.
For example, the curator provides a special perfume to help visitors imagine the atmosphere of a public swimming pool in the summer of an industrial city—a fresh yet smoky aroma that captures the scene in an unexpected way.
The museum also offers support for people with disabilities, especially those who are visually impaired. It is quite common to find three-dimensional reproductions of paintings that blind visitors can touch in order to understand the outlines of objects depicted. However, this practice is also somewhat controversial, since painting is a two-dimensional art form, and even a bas-relief can easily convey artistic ideas that differ significantly from the original painting.
An even greater challenge lies in conveying colors through touch. The museum has assigned different textiles to represent different colors. In this way, blind visitors can attempt to build a “colorful” impression of the painting by touching the textured outlines. Of course, this requires a great deal of imagination to bring all these sensations together into a complete image. But then again, isn’t art always about imagination?