Public Canvas

Engagement is king.

Every department has different goals. Working in development, I’m always trying to think of new ways to raise money. Specifically in membership, I’m always trying to find ways to connect with our members so that they feel like they are part of something big, important, and unique. We want them engaged so that they feel engaged so that their gift seems valuable.

Education departments want to engage with guests so that they feel connected to the art/history/science/performance/etc. in a way that will help them learn and incite curiosity. Curators and exhibition designers want to create engaging exhibits and even the store wants guests to engage with the art/history/science/performance/etc. so that they feel driven to bring a small part of their experience home with them.

In the end, we seem to all want the same thing and almost every session ended up somehow working its way back around to it. Engagement. How to do it, how to do it better, how not to do it, how to do it with members, how to do it with young people, how to hire employees who can do it, how to structure your museum so your staff can do it best, and on and on and on.

One of my favorite sessions, was a 75 ideas in 75 minutes on engagement. I felt like one of the reasons it was great is because it was willing to admit that that’s what we were all here to do and attack it head on. They went straight into solutions instead of rehashing the same problems that we all know we have. At this session we were handed buttons that said “Talk to me about engagement”. Seems to me they should have said “Engage with me about engagement”.

When I walked into Kirk Hopper Fine Art last night the theme song to the 90s Nickelodeon show All That was playing. I can’t think of a better song to be playing. First of all, it stands alone as a perfect work of lyrical genius. It was also particularly apt considering the subject matter of Sergio Garcia’s exhibition Social.

The largest piece, a sculpture created with school desks each joined to the others at their feet is whimsical and familiar. Not only have I spent my fair share of time in desks just like this, it also reminds me of a community partnership exhibition that the Dallas Museum of Art had awhile back Sculpting Space: 299 Chairs. Not that Garcia’s work deserves to be put outside, but I would love to have it prominently displayed in my front yard. I think the incongruity of school desks outside, free from the school room and the gallery alike would suit the piece which is already out of place in time.

Also brought back from the time of All That are the images of Air Jordans that Garcia screen prints using gunpowder. I’m not really certain how gunpowder fits into that process, but the series, titled “Heat”, made my boyfriend particularly nostalgic. When I asked him which one was his favorite, he pointed at one without hesitating. It was his favorite because it depicted the Jordans he had owned. My favorite was the hot pink one because that color was just really, really great. I feel like it represented the energy of the entire series well.

I also loved the corner shaped canvas with the word Baby printed smack in the center. It was called “And I Mean Nobody”. Way to make a millennial laugh, Mr. Garcia.

The young people are coming.

We’re talented, ambitious, over-educated and underappreciated. We have lots of great ideas, we understand technology, and we’re less affected by office politics because we understand organizational structure as flexible and adaptive. We understand how to be respectful but we don’t respect laziness or “Just do it because I told you to” mandates. We have a completely different work-life balance than any generation before us. More than anything, we want to work somewhere where we believe in the institution and the institution believes in us. Ignore us at your own risk and to the detriment of your institution.

Don’t get me wrong, we don’t want to steal your jobs. We do prefer that you retire before you get to the point where you don’t care anymore. We expect our bosses to be learning and growing as much as we are expected to and to be as excited about the mission as we are. We do want to be paid a living wage (enough to have a little bit of fun and at least make the minimum payment on our burdensome school debt). We also want opportunities for advancement but you don’t have to fire someone to promote someone else. Often, we’re willing to take a promotion without a raise if it means we get to keep growing and prevents us from stagnating. Instead of seeing us as a threat, see us as a valuable part of your organization.

The view from the Emerging Museum Professionals reception

I met so many young, talented museum professionals and aspiring museum professionals. One particularly engaging young woman who works at a small non-collecting contemporary art space had the title “Manager of Visitor Engagement”. After speaking with her I was blown away by how many hats she wears. She is responsible for pretty much everything you can imagine might fit in that title, from membership to parts of education and marketing. Someone, somewhere along the way gave her the room she needed to prove how valuable she can be and I could tell that she was doing a lot to fulfill that trust. She was working hard to learn new things and make new contacts who can help her be the best administrator she can be. She spoke knowledgeably about the challenges facing her institution and our field. She was well dressed, well spoken, and good at networking.

I was impressed by another group of young women I met who were all in their last year of a master’s program at the same school. They attended together and had driven quite a ways to get there. They all had committed to graduate school early because they are confident about what they’re passionate about. I saw them at several sessions and had the pleasure of spending some time with them at an evening event. As a young person working in the field who decided to postpone grad school I was particularly interested in their insight about their prospects. They each expressed doubt and uncertainty about their ability to find a job but never wavered from their decision to commit to this field. Instead of waiting for a job to start thinking of solutions to institution-specific problems, they were already putting together great ideas that their future employers will be able to immediately consider (if they’re smart enough to ask).

These are just two examples of the incredible young people I met at AAM. I applaud the organization on its willingness to reach out to young people, their Emerging Museum Professionals program seems to be both growing and well supported. While it was clear that some attendees were uninterested in us, and there were very few young people presenting (outside of the graduate showcase), there was still a supportive atmosphere that included several sessions intended to encourage our progress in the field.

I look forward to the positive effect this wave of talent will have on the field. We may have been postponed by economic trouble and the baby boomer’s commitment, but we’re here, we’re ready, and we want to help in a whole new way.

So much mail!

When I signed up for the AAM Annual Meeting and Museum Expo, that’s when. I’m really excited about going and this excitement is only increased by the shameless pandering that so many museum oriented businesses seem to think will win my business.

I’ve started getting several postcards a day advertising everything from technology to museum cases. All sorts of products that I’m sure are wonderful and very effective, however, none of them are products I use or have any buying power for at work. Not a single postcard applies to anything I really do.

I did clearly sign up as a development/membership professional and you think that if AAM was going to share my information, they would at least share enough for me to receive relevant mail. Not that I mind that they shared, I like getting the info, it would just be more exciting if it was something I actually wanted to buy/investigate, like membership premiums or direct mail services.

Come to think of it, this would be the perfect way for a direct mail service to get my attention. It would definitely be more effective than the sales call I got today.

I’m pretty good with directions, I have an IPhone with a map, and I can usually at least find my way back the way I came. Not everyone is like this, though. A lot of very intelligent people have trouble with maps and directions.

One of my best friends in high school only knew how to get to certain places from her home. If she was out somewhere else and needed to go to one of those places, instead of finding her way, she would go home and go from there.

Museums, especially big ones, are often even worse. They tend to have significantly fewer standard wayfinding markers than roads. On top of that, improvements, changes for exhibitions, and add-ons can often make for a walking experience that is a far cry from the IKEA directional path. Even locals who come to the museum several times a year often have trouble finding the way to their favorite painting.

Maps are important, but having them redesigned is not always an option. Directional signage is much more flexible but it’s difficult to know what will be intuitive for someone unfamiliar with the space. Lately I’ve been working to tweak some signage that directs guests to our special exhibition. All they need to do is keep walking up the long hallway. No turning, no stairs, just keep going straight and they can’t miss it.

This is difficult for some reason.

I know these people are not stupid, they just don’t read. When they’re at the museum they’re talking to their family, looking at art, and not reading signs. This is why I incorporated arrows into the signs, two big arrows pointing straight ahead (I had to bribe design to make them more than two inches tall). This is helping some, but people are still confused.

If I can’t figure out a sign to get people to go in a straight line, I definitely have no idea how to make one that tells them to turn around and go back the way they came. I didn’t realize how difficult it is to get an arrow to face backward.

In the end I’ve learned at least one very important trick. Signs seem to work best when the guest can the next directional sign immediately after passing the one before it. I almost feel like breadcrumbs might work better.

Street art fascinates me.  It is a perfectly unique intersection of a million thoughts, histories, and artistic movements. It is arguably where art most directly meets politics and the most likely place for the public to see art. It is at once a particularly free and a uniquely restricted space. Throughout history it has been a breeding ground for revolution both against the art world and society. Neither temporary nor permanent, it is an instillation in our life.

Street art can be remarkably ingenious, utilizing existing materials and physical environments. Yet often it is completely in your face, ignoring and overpowering its context instead of manipulating it. Perhaps in part because of this it is a meeting place of mediums as well. Everything is fair game, from extremely temporary works made of ice or chalk to large paintings and steel sculptures.  It is both comedy and tragedy, threatening and familiar.

So often it goes unappreciated or unnoticed. Recently, The Washington Post asked world famous violinist, Joshua Bell to play in a crowded subway station during rush hour for 43 minutes. He did not go unnoticed, but almost. He was given about the same treatment as any other street performer. Most people passed quickly.

They didn’t look but they heard. There is something to be said for subtlety. Images that we see every day on our way to work can make an impression on us that we don’t even always understand. I believe that street art’s most precious gift is its ability to sneak into our lives. Viewers are confronted with interesting visual images and profound statements against their will. Outside of the museum or gallery setting it can touch people who don’t visit those spaces and alter their perception. It’s fascinating.

I’ve been thinking for a long time about my return to this blog. I seemed to be on such a roll last year as I typed away. I’m not sure if it was the lack of deadlines that caused me to fell behind or the fact that I finally got a job in the arts, doing what I want to do. Suddenly I didn’t seem to need a blog to capture my artistic imagination, I was, and am, constantly enlightened and delighted by my work.

By no means has that come to a close, it is only that I itch to investigate more, to learn more, and to challenge myself in ways that I have allowed myself to become lazy. I never want to lose an opportunity to do something incredible because I spend my time doing unimportant, mindless things. While they are relaxing, they do not move me toward my goal of having the best life, which I think is fundamentally (if partally)reliant on intellectual stimulation and interaction.

I see things all the time that make me wonder, that captivate my imagination and I want to share those things with someone other than my incredible boyfriend. I want to force myself to develop my ideas past whim and shape my own conscious thought.

Which is all wonderful… until I started writing.

Somewhere between the decision to begin blogging again and the physical act of sitting down to write, all of these thoughts and whims have escaped me, flitting quietly into the recesses of my mind like startled birds.

So I forced myself to be still and quiet, and to consider process. Process is something that I seem to remember entire lectures about during my art history study. While I understand the concept, it seems that I have not, until now, considered process as a puzzle to be solved instead of a historical step to be studied. In my stillness this leads me to think about the artist On Kawara and his beautifully simple Today series. Beginning on January 4^th 1966 the artist has created one work each day, a simple square canvas that depicts the date in white lettering on a black background. There is incredible depth here, a million connections to be discussed and discovered, all stemming from such a simple, accessible process.

Suddenly I am understanding that the search for complexity does not always begin with complexity.

So, I’m hoping to simplify my own process. I want to start somewhere genuine and simple and let the complexity come naturally.

So I started here. Oct. 31 2011.

-Emma Vernon