I’ve taken a rather long break from this blog. Now it is time to restart.

However, the scope of this blog will widen. It will become clear why, and how, once I’ve set out where I’m currently at in my experiences and my interests.

It’s been two years and eight months since I left the formal museum (and heritage) sector. I was recently asked if I would not consider going into museum consulting in Germany. Participation and to some degree co-creation and power sharing have finally arrived at least on the political agenda, as the recent establishment of the Zentrum für kulturelle Teilhabe (Centre for Cultural Participation) in the State of Baden-Württemberg shows. And participation, co-creation and power sharing have always been the primary goals in my professional practice.

Unfortunately, in the three years that I worked in the German museum sector upon my return, these goals were also the ones which I was repeatedly forced to defend. In the end, this meant taking several steps back in my professional practice and fight for something that to me and most of my international colleagues is a given. I was not prepared to do that. I am still not prepared to do that. I leave that fight to others.

I am now fast approaching my three-year anniversary in the further education sector, which in its day-to-day practices is firmly rooted in what in Germany is called Soziokultur. There is no term for that in English. This is highly illustrative of the underlying issue of my experiences in the German museum sector: museums are high culture, fairly separate from wider society, while Soziokultur is all about people and how they live together.

In other words, I have arrived in a professional environment that is dedicated to what has always been most important to me. I still work with heritage, and indeed we are currently in a collaborative project with our local Roman history museum. However, I am now engaged with the dynamics of heritage, history and culture far, far beyond museums and heritage sites. Where before I used to reflect on heritage primarily in the context of interpretive practice and heritage management, I am now challenged to think much more deeply about the role of lived heritage and its impacts within societies, as well as the impacts of history and culture.

I now work in an organisation whose very reason for existing is democracy. Volkshochschulen were founded to enable people to participate fully. Every course we offer relates back to that vision in one way or another. Not being bound to a museum collection or a particular site gives me the freedom to engage with issues that perhaps at first glance are nothing do with heritage. Take for example the Symbolic Elections that we organised last year for all the people in our town who were not allowed to vote in the German Parliamentary Elections on the grounds of their nationality. Upon closer examination, this has everything to do with history, our culture, our definitions of Germanness and who we want to be as a society. In other words, it has everything to do with questions about our heritage now and in the future.  

So, getting back to the scope of this blog. I will still write posts purely on cultural heritage, and heritage interpretation, too. However, I will also write more broadly about heritage, history, and culture, and especially about how they manifest, impact, and (re-)shape society. Occasionally, I may write about technology and the Third Space, or developing a co-created vhs programme. The essence of this blog will remain the same: I am all about furthering professional practices around heritage and culture that are inclusive and people-centred.

I do hope that many of you will continue to accompany me on this journey. Do share your thoughts with me. I look forward to exchanging ideas with you.

A local project invited me to write an article on culture for an imaginary newspaper in 2030. It got me thinking about what I hope (German) museums will be like then [1]. Here are my thoughts.

In 2030, as soon as I step through the doors of a museum, it is clear that this is a place for discussing the past, negotiating the present and imagining the future. This is a lively space, open and welcoming, with stuff going on right there in the entrance area. In the exhibition, it’s obvious that the relevant (heritage) communities have had a huge say in creating this space. There is transparency: I always know whose voice I am hearing when. Polyvocality is everywhere, giving me the opportunity to engage with all the different perspectives on this heritage, even where they are contradictory or controversial. I am able to respond to what I see/hear/do, and I can leave my own traces for visitors that will come after me. This exhibition is a reflection of the rich and diverse fabric of heritage expressions and our society, and I and everyone else become part of it.

The museum that is about my heritage in 2030 creates plenty of opportunities for me to do heritage work. I can engage with, express, reaffirm, and reinvent my sense of heritage and thus my place within this society. The museum knows that this is precisely it’s job: to facilitate engagement and heritage work. There are no preferred readings here. It’s a place of making visible what may otherwise be hidden. It’s a place of negotiation.

A museum in 2030 is consequently all about people and providing an infrastructure for the above. It is not about collections. In fact, the most progressive museums no longer have their own collections at all. They focus on facilitating a third space, leaving collecting, research and collections care to archives, libraries and universities. What objects they need for an exhibition, they either crowd-source or borrow from other collection holders.

This is also reflected in staff expertise. The best museum directors and curators in 2030 are those who entirely blend into the background. They are outstanding at supporting (heritage) communities in expressing what is relevant to them and their societies; they facilitate co-created exhibitions and activities to the highest interpretive standards and so create opportunities for visitors. Interviews with these celebrated museum folks focus on the input from (heritage) communities and the relevance of the outputs to these communities and visitors. The previously called ‘subject specialists’ have migrated to other institutions along with the collections they were experts on.

In 2030, every museum has detailed knowledge of their visitors’ and staff profiles, particularly around ethnicity (in German ‘migrant background’) and socio-economic background. Museums understand that this is the prerequisite to ensuring there are no lingering racist biases within their structures and processes. In fact, any museum unable to produce such data stops receiving any public funding because the task is clear: a museum must be fully representative of, and fully serve, the whole of their society in all its diversity. So, when I search for the percentage of museum directors with a ‘migrant background’ this information is not only immediately available, I also find out that yes, the proportion is about the same as people ‘with migrant background’ in our society as a whole.

The same is true for audiences. Consequently, in 2030, every museum has an Audience Development Plan alongside a stringent Audience Research Programme.

In 2030, museums understand that they themselves have sometimes troubling histories; that they are part of socio-political hegemonies, and that they are as receptive to behaviours detrimental to inclusion and equality as other institutions. Therefore, they are in a constant process of self-reflection, constantly rechecking and recalibrating their efforts so that they remain the polyvocal, democratic and representative third spaces they intend to be.

And finally, in 2030 I am no longer forced to leave my coat and hand over my handbag because the museum will actually treat me as an adult.

Notes

[1] I am primarily thinking of museums here that traditionally fall into the broad category of ‘history’ museums. Art museums that present art as cultural heritage will be similar in 2030 to what I describe in this post, at least I hope so. Art museums that present art ‘just’ as art, well, I would like to consider that separately. However, since I come from a cultural heritage background, that’s not where my immediate interest lies. Maybe another time.

The German Museum Association has recently published guidelines on ‘Working Professionally in a Museum’. The guidelines are intended as a snapshot of current roles in museums. What the guidelines also reveal, however, is a continued imbalance between the focus on collections and museums as institutions for the public.

On one hand, the guidelines acknowledge the need for visitor focus, participatory formats, decolonization and provenance research. They highlight that professionalism is required in each of these areas and they call for strengthened collaboration between respective roles.

However, from the discussion of these roles themselves emerges a more traditional picture of museums. The guidelines repeatedly declare collecting, collections care and collections research to be the core of museum practice. Curators are consequently established as those with overall responsibility for anything visitors encounter, providing the core concepts and frameworks. Their required qualification is an academic degree in a discipline related to collections.

‘Education and Interpretation’ is also stated to be a core task of museums, but not until the forth section of the guidelines. Nor are acitivies engaging communities and visitors, and particularly heritage communities, on heritage values mentioned anywhere as a must. This applies even to the engagement with collections. Of note is also that the guidelines do not consider specific qualifications in museum education and interpretation necessary.

And here lies the imbalance. The emphasis is still placed squarely on collections. It is from collections that everything else flows. ‘The public’ are framed as consumers of collections, in ways that are determined by those in control of said collections. Collections are where the power lies. It is the roles concerned with collections that make the decisions. Working with and for the public is considered most strongly in terms of increasing the museum’s profile: an ultimately inward-looking, self-serving objective.

The museum that emerges from these guidelines is therefore a museum that still defines itself and its collections without recourse to people. Its primary purpose is not to be an institution for the public, but one concerned with its collections.

In many, if not most cases, this is indeed the reality on the ground. Visitor focus, participation, democratization: these are all too often lip service, and not at all reflected in museum roles and resources. When pressed, museum managers will consequently argue freely that they consider these activities to ‘detract’ from the core of museum practice.

I will not go into the argument why museums can no longer be defined by collections and collections research only; I’ve done so in numerous posts on this blog. My point today is that unless and until the roles and their responsibilities, and thus the power relations within museums change, the current situation will remain the same. Museums will remain a closed shop. The knowledge and expertise of heritage communities will remain marginalized in museum practice. Museums will fail to speak to the majority of their surrounding community. They will become less and less relevant. They will not fulfil their responsibility as public institutions, particularly where they are publicly funded.

I hope the next iteration of the guidelines start with roles that focus on communities and visitors, stipulating specific academic and practical qualifications for such work, and paying staff accordingly.

Since my return to Germany, I have been on many guided tours that have truly made me want to weep with frustration. I’ve had guides who held lengthy monologues; guides who asked not a single question to get to know their audience; guides who talked about things that were nowhere in sight.

I could continue this list of examples that fly in the face of every professional principle of interpretation. Those familiar with Germany’s museum sector will not be surprised. interpretation as an academic discipline and professional practice is mostly unknown. Museumspädagogik, as the German discipline that comes closest (but which is not Interpretation), is still dismissed as secondary by many museum directors and curators. As the Bundesverband Museumspädagogik e.V., the federal association for Museumspädagogik, notes, there are only limited opportunities to study Museumspädagogik at an academic level. In fact, it lists only one academic course taught in Germany, Austria and (the German-speaking part of) Switzerland. In general, those practicing Museumspädagogik are subject specialists such as (art) historians, with no or only limited knowledge of Museumspädagogik acquired through short courses.

The outcome for visitors is as predictable as it is regrettable – not that the impact of these visitor programmes is regularly evaluated, if at all [1]. Again, this shows just how little value is often attached to them. It may be an indication, however, that participation levels at German museums (excluding tourist destinations) are shockingly low. So perhaps it might be a good idea to start offering guided tours that follow some basic do’s and don’ts.

Here’s my list:

Consider your role

I advocate for tour guides to think of themselves as hosts and facilitators. How would you behave if you had invited strangers over to your house? What would you do to ensure they have a great time with whatever it is you’ve planned for their stay with you? Take that as your guidance for being a tour guide. It should at the very least prevent you from being a bore who only talks about themselves, their knowledge and their interests.

Give a duration…

There are a myriad of reasons why visitors may need to know how long a guided tour takes: They may have plans later on and require the information for their decision making. Some in their group may not wish to join the tour and instead meet up again later. I could go on. The point is that to withhold this information is inconsiderate. It is power play and poor hosting. It also puts up totally avoidable barriers.

…and stick to it (1)!

When you do tell visitors how long a tour will be (and remember that often, like I do, they ask!), then do stick to the time. Otherwise, visitors are forced to make the decision to either stay and jeopardize their other plans, or to feel rude and leave while the tour is still going on. It creates an uncomfortable situation which begins as soon as visitors realize that the original end time nears, but the tour is nowhere near conclusion. This is just the opposite of an environment that supports new experiences and learning. Which, one should imagine, are the whole point of a guided tour.

Be clear about your topic…

You need to let people know what your guided tour is about. I’m not talking about a theme here [2]. I mean the broad topic: is it the art works in an exhibition? The personal history of the artists? The curatorial decisions? Your topic is what lets people decide on whether or not to join your tour. Otherwise, you’re asking them to sign up for the unknown, which only the most die-hard will do (and thus you’ve put up another unnecessary barrier for everyone else). Or, which is just as undesirable, they’ll arrive with their own assumptions, which may have nothing to do with your intended topic.

…and stick to it (2)!

Once you’ve let people know your topic: Do.Not.Talk.About.Everything.Else.You.Know. It is false advertising. Think of it like a contract. People have given you their time because they’re expecting to get something specific in return. They’re not there to provide you with the (captive) audience to impress with your vast knowledge. Remember: you want to be a good host, not a bore (see above).

Get to the point

This is Communication 101 stuff, but it clearly needs stating again: if you know what you’re trying to say, then say it. Don’t meander. Don’t get side-tracked. Don’t get too fond of hearing your own voice. Here’s a clue: if you stay more than five to ten minutes in one spot, then you’re not getting to the point of what can and should be said at that spot. And if you’re not sure about what your point is, then take some time beforehand to gain clarity.

Focus on what is there

Talk about what people can see. Do not have them stand in front of something and then talk at length about something else. It frustrates people, and loses their interest. If there is a connection to what they can see, point it out to them.

And finally: Asking questions does not make a dialogue

Do not confuse asking questions such as, ‘What can you see in this painting?’ and ‘Do you know what this is?’ with facilitating a dialogue. These questions are more reminiscent of school teachers than tour guides. They are, in essence, about people’s knowledge relating to what you are showing them. A dialogue is something different. Of course you can and should ask questions of your audience to initiate a conversation. But these questions should be about them. Ask them why they’ve come. What are they interested in? Is there anything in their personal experience that resonates with what is on site? It’s also good practice to offer something of yourself as well: what is your background? What interests you? Let the ensuing conversation guide the tour: that is dialogical; that is participation.

Notes

[1] In Germany, visitor research, which includes evaluation of programmes, is still considered by many to be superfluous. And thus, many museum directors, who really should be interested in the outcomes of their programmes and thus the impact of their work, don’t actually know what they achieve, if anything at all. The German Museum Association has therefore launched a laudable effort to persuade more museums to engage in visitor research.

[2] see Ham, S. 1992. Environmental Interpretation. A Practical Guide for People with Big Ideas and Small Budgets. Golden: North American Press