Mummies and Daddies

For Fathers Day this year, I took my dad to the Detroit Science Center to see The Accidental Mummies of Guanajuato.
Sure, he drove… and paid… but it was my idea, so I’m still saying that I “took” him there.

The Accidental Mummies of Guanajuato is a traveling exhibition by The Detroit Science Center and The Accidental Mummies Touring Company LLC, along with Manuel Hernandez/Firma Culturato. The exhibition will begin touring nationally after its initial stint in Detroit. It features 36 accidental mummies from the Museo de las Momias de Guanajuato. While there is an entire museum in Mexico that is dedicated to their care, this is the first time that any of the mummies have ever been seen outside of Mexico. The exhibition opened in Detroit in October of 2009 and will begin touring before the end of 2010 until 2012.

The Detroit Science Center is directly across the street from the Detroit Institute of Arts. Every day, as I am leaving work and driving up John R, I am taunted by the creepy yet exciting posters and flags that hang around the science center. I have wanted to see this exhibition since I came back to Detroit in May!

After all of that hype, I was not disappointed.

I love mummies. I have loved mummies for as long as I can remember. As I kid, I had giant (taller than me, at the time) cardboard books about Egyptian mummies, books about the bog mummies, sarcophagus pencil cases, mummy activity books, King Tut masks, huge inflatable mummies, and I even made a canopic jar in art class (I was a weird kid but my parents supported my interests). So when the Guanajuato mummies came to town, I was ready!

I was told not to take pictures inside the exhibition, so being the respectful museum professional that I am, I urge you to go to http://accidentalmummies.com/photo-gallery.php and see the exhibition photos.  They're better than what I would get with my camera anyway.

My dad has been to lots of museums with me and has seen the great and the not-so-great exhibitions, but we were both floored by the first gallery and found the rest of the exhibition equally as impressive and enjoyable.

I was impressed by several things:

1.) The respect with which the mummies were displayed.  It's a tough thing to display deceased human beings.  It even sounds weird as I'm typing it... "display".  But the Science Center did a nice job with it.  They weren't on rotating platforms or set up to look like they were playing poker with each other.  The displays were simple, informational, and still engrossing.

2.) The design of the exhibition.  The first room, made to look like the cemetery in which they were found, was simply fantastic.  Being the nerd that I am, I thought to myself, "I bet the exhibits department had a ball fabricating this!"  The second room was the more simple, respectful display, and the third was made to look like a research lab-- complete with CT scanner and video of research methods and forensic facial reconstruction.  That was my dad's favorite part. 

3.) The interpretive texts.  Each panel was in English and Spanish and they were all well written.  They provided information that was easy to understand, and served as a valuable reference while we were in the exhibition.  Dad and I even went back to a few text panels in previous galleries to double check our facts.  It is unusual for me read every text panel in an exhibition, but it's also unusual for every text panel to be informative and useful.

I was also less-than-impressed with some others:

1.) Inventive histories.  This was a tricky one for me, and I'm still trying to decide what I think.  While the text panels about how accidental mummification occurs, Mexican history, etc., were very well done, I had an issue with some of the "stories" inside the cases with the mummies.  Many of the stories seemed to be fabricated with the intent of tying these mummies in with some middle school social studies.  A lame attempt to comply with the GLCEs and HSCEs.  I saw right through it.  These stories said things like, "This is a mummy of a woman who died in 1850.  Women often played music for Spanish settlers around that time.  This woman many have played music for Spanish settlers."  Really?  I mean... really?  This poor woman may have been the most talented chef in town and lived her entire life without touching a musical instrument... but because she is a woman, and the Science Center is desperate to hit those Social Studies GLCEs, suddenly she played guitar for Spanish settlers.  That irked me a little bit.

2.) Dumb parents.  This is not the Science Center's fault, but when Dad and I were reaching the end of the exhibition, I suddenly heard a blood curdling scream from the entrance.  It was clearly a terrified child, discovering a mummy.  These accidental mummies became mummified because the cement of the mausoleum wicked the moisture out of their bodies.  When bodies dry out like this, the mouth often opens.  Thus, almost every mummy looked like it was screaming.  To a kid, that could be pretty intense.  I've already touched on my lifelong affection for mummies... but I'm not sure how I would have reacted to a "screaming" mummy when I was young.  It's tough to say.  I mean, I really liked mummies.  Anyway, perhaps the visitor services rep should have advised this parent that this exhibition is not for children, but I think it's really the parent's decision-- and this parent made the wrong one.

However, those two minor issues did not noticeably detract from my overall enjoyment of the exhibition.

When I was taking my first undergrad course in museum studies (Introduction to Museum Work), my advisor (and professor), Lynn Fauver told us, "Taking this course will ruin any museum visit you have from now on."  He seemed to think that knowing about museums would suck the enjoyment out of the visit.  I have now come to disagree.  I really liked Lynn.  He was a great and fair advisor, an enthralling lecturer and he was incredibly knowledgeable about the museum field.  But in this respect, I think he's full of it.

The more I learn about museum work, the more I am able to enjoy a museum visit on multiple levels.  I am excited to see the exhibition itself, but I am also excited to see how it was produced and what choices the museum staff made.  It's gotten to the point where I just want to know everything I can about how and why museums do what they do.  I am able to walk into an exhibition like The Accidental Mummies of Guanajuato and be awestruck by the mummies-- imagining their stories, thinking about the science of mummification, looking at their clothing, etc.-- while also checking the temperature and RH inside the cases, looking at the mounting hardware, lighting, layout, interpretive texts, and so on. 

I am honestly and truly interested in all aspects of an exhibition like that.  I may be alone on this, but knowing there is 44% RH inside of the mummy's case does not ruin the magic for me.  (Sidebar: Some mummies were displayed laying on their backs, while others were mounted upright.  Those laying down had 23-26 RH in the case, while the upright ones had 44-46 RH in their cases.  My theory is that those who were laying down were so fragile that not only could they not be mounted in an upright position, but that they also needed drier conditions.  Thoughts?)

So, if you like sausage and you respect the law, you shouldn't watch either one being made.  Instead, spend your day at a museum.  You'll like that better, I promise.

All Staff Meeting

Today I had to be at the museum before 9:00.  I kind of hate being anywhere before 9:00 but it turned out to be well worth the trouble.  It was the All Staff Meeting!

More than 100 DIA employees gathered in the auditorium (which I had never seen before, but is very nice!) to hear the Director and various other managers discuss projects and initiatives within the museum.  I asked how often All Staff Meetings occur and was told that they try to have them quarterly, but that's not always the case.  Either way, I was pleased to be present for this one.


Perimeter Heating Project: Elliott, Museum Operations

We are now in Phase II of the perimeter heating project (I must have missed Phase I), which involved closing a number of galleries on the second floor for repairs to the heating system. Last winter, some galleries with exterior walls had NO heat beyond the forced air system (I don't know enough about heating and cooling to tell you why we need more than forced air heat, but apparently we do). Fortunately, last winter was mild enough that there were few to no complaints from visitors, and of course, the artwork was unharmed.

Elliott, from Operations, attempted to list the second floor galleries that would be closing but admitted to not knowing the official gallery numbers. At this point, he asked for some “audience participation”, saying that he would tell us what is in each gallery, and someone in the audience should yell out the gallery number. It went something like this:

“It’s that gallery with the painting on the ceiling…”
“W 234!”
“It’s got that piece of furniture with all the inlaid stone… umm… it also has The Wedding Dance…”
“W 230!!” “BINGO!!
Ok, nobody yelled out “Bingo”, but I think it would have been appropriate.

After Gallery Number Bingo, Director Graham Beal talked about some stuff that was not on the agenda, but proved to be pretty interesting.


New AAMD Environmental Standards: Graham Beal, Director

The AAMD has decided to relax its environmental standards for galleries. The gold standard for relative humidity levels in the galleries was generally between 40% to 50%. Yet, for various reasons, the range of acceptable RH has been expanded to 40% to 60%.

 I did some quick Internet research and it seems like most museums were already doing this anyway. But now the AAMD is making this the official standard, which really only changes one thing; loans. As Graham explained it, some museums were having trouble acquiring loans because when they would submit a facilities report, their hygrothermograph output would read 56% or something that the loaning institution would find unacceptable. Graham even told stories of institutions submitting a blank hygrothermograph output sheet with a ruled pencil line drawn through the whole thing at 45%. In other words, some museums, desperate for loans, would forge their RH reports. Seriously?

The other benefits of this greater flexibility are that it saves the museum some money, reduces energy consumption and carbon footprints, and generally streamlines the loan process (so people can stop lying!).

Apparently it has been suggested for a while that most works of art will not sustain damage from incremental RH fluctuations, and can thus withstand a greater range. My peers that watched “The Rape of Europa” with me last semester can attest that many works of art that hung out in caves, barns, and other locations without climate control for the duration of WWII were returned to the museums without much (or any) damage. I am not suggesting that galleries be converted to reflect the barn environment in the name of reducing our carbon footprint, but I can certainly see the merit to allowing RH to reach 60% +/- 3.

Graham also noted that it is extremely difficult to retain a consistent RH % in the Midwest (especially in those dry winter months). So this change in the standards will end up saving the DIA quite a bit of money. In the winter the DIA will heat the museum less, thus reducing the need to add humidity to the air; and in the summer we will cool the museum less, thus reducing the need to remove humidity from the air.

During this briefing, a representative from the conservation or registration department stood up and assured the crowd that the collections were not being put at risk in any way by this change and that there simply won’t be much difference to the state collections.

To prove that I’m not making these numbers up, here are some articles I found about the change:

http://blog.conservation-us.org/blogpost.cfm?threadid=2227&catid=175
http://www.artdaily.org/index.asp?int_sec=2&int_new=38716
http://www.theartnewspaper.com/articles/Climate-control-time-to-change-the-settings/20913
http://www.theartnewspaper.com/articles/Revising-the-gold-standard-of-environmental-control%20/20549

And if any of my information is way off base, I certainly hope that my newest reader, Dixie, will set me straight.


Millage Campaign: Annmarie, Executive Vice President

I mentioned before that the DIA plans to launch a millage campaign in an effort to establish a more stable source of funding for the museum and that the initial poll results for the campaign were overwhelmingly positive.

Today, Annmarie presented a more detailed account of the poll results, which I found very interesting. I was asked not to share the details of the results, but I will discuss one thing that struck me about the poll and that was how many people reported a very positive image of the DIA. In one question, people were asked “Who goes to the DIA” and the common response was “Everyone”. I found this to be so encouraging. In a previous post, I said myself that I recognize museums (art museums, in particular) as having to struggle with that public perception of elitism. I think this just speaks to how many things the DIA is doing RIGHT. There are a lot of words that describe the City of Detroit (resilient, soulful, diverse, historic…) but I don’t think “elite” is one of them. Which is why I was so struck by the apparent perception of the DIA as being the people’s museum—a place where everyone goes. I think that this is a perception that most (all?) museums strive for and I am just so happy to see the community embrace the DIA as their own, just as I have for so many years.

But then again, I claimed ownership of Lake St. Clair when I was in preschool so I’m not sure I’m the best barometer of the community’s investment.  I get attached easily.

Dedicated by the People of Detroit to the Knowledge and Enjoyment of Art

I have lived all but one year of my life in Michigan. That's 23 Michigan winters. But you know what? I'm still freezing. I don't know if I have poor circulation or an iron deficiency or something... but I don't handle cold temperatures very well. As I mentioned, the ODHR office is kept at near arctic temperatures. Maybe they're trying to keep Jimmy Hoffa fresh in one of those suspiciously unused cubicles-- I can't say for sure.

I just know that the weather is finally warming up outside, so I have an escape (and can stop running to the bathroom to run my hands under hot water).  So this afternoon, I took a little stroll outside  to warm up and walked around the entire exterior of the DIA. It's more impressive than I had remembered.

The museum underwent a massive reorganization, renovation, and expansion several years ago. I talked previously about the changes to the interior-- new text panels, smaller gallery rooms, new interpretive techniques, etc.-- but there were some major changes to the exterior of the museum as well.

For those who may not be familiar with the great City of Detroit, the Detroit Institute of Arts is located in what we refer to as the "Cultural Center" of Detroit. This area is home to other great Detroit treasures such as...

The Detroit Public Library

Wayne State University

The Detroit Science Center

The Scarab Club

(http://www.scarabclub.org)

My dad took me inside the Scarab Club once, when I was younger. It functions partly as an artist collective of sorts, and also as a community arts center. It's a crazy little historic building, and I remember being granted access to one of the top floors when we visited-- which is generally closed to the public. Upstairs are a number of artist studios, and I recall meeting one of the artists and discussing his work briefly. It was pretty neat.

Anyway...

It is easy to see where the "new" and "old" DIA meet each other. I recall there being some rumblings in the community about the look of the expansion. It does look much sleeker and more modern and is a definite departure from the traditional temple-style of the "old" DIA

Old and New DIA converge

One of my favorite things about this building (and I think most Detroiters would agree) is the Woodward entrance. Woodward is a major street in Detroit, and while much of the city has declined, Woodward Avenue remains both active and reminiscent of Old Detroit. Fittingly, this part of the DIA is about as reminiscent as it gets. In one of my classes last semester, we discussed the museum as being a "temple" for art (or history, or what-have-you) and that many museums were actually elevated off the street by impressive marble staircases and other heavily classic architectural features. The movement now is toward a more welcoming structure that is less separated (physically and metaphorically) from is surroundings. That's what is so interesting about the DIA-- you can actually see this shift taking place in its very architecture.

Classic Woodward Entrance

What is unfortunate these days is that Woodward is no longer a functioning museum entrance, and it's a damn shame. I think there is something transformative about walking up a flight of marble stairs, between two shooting fountains, and past "The Thinker" that prepares the visitor for a meaningful museum experience. What you can't see in the photo is that it's been gated shut.

Entrances to the DIA are now on the sides of the building, and feature a more contemporary and low-key style. Does this make for a more positive and less intimidating visitor experience? I don't know.  Museums never intimidated me, so I can't even begin to answer that.

Contemporary Farnsworth Entrance

I'm pretty neutral about the new style of the expansion. I liked the old DIA, but I like the new one, too. I think the white marble is sleek and solid looking in its simplicity. But there will always be a place in my heart for the ornate design of classic museums.

This Isn't Just ANY Nonprofit-- this is the DIA!

So today was my first official day as an intern at the Detroit Institute of Arts-- and it was fantastic!

My day began with a tour of the DIA.  I didn't see much art, but what I did see was just as interesting... to me, anyway. 

As we were walking past the loading dock, I found myself standing on my tippy toes to look through every window out onto the dock.  I had a repress a delighted giggle as I thought about how much Dixie would love this loading dock.  It had multiple doors, complete with a huge overhang (to protect artworks from the elements), a great looking staging area, and a great big open space-- large enough for semi trucks to maneuver.  It was so cool.

My "office" is upstairs on the third floor.  All offices are on the third floor-- pretty much everything else is museum space of some kind.  I'm right up there with the director, Graham Beal.  His office is right around the corner from me.  It was a little depressing to look around the third floor and see how many empty desks and workspaces there are.  About a year ago, the DIA had a major staff cutback, and it seems that almost all receptionists and administrative assistants were eliminated.  As a result-- I have ample workspace to call my own.

The bulk of my mapping project can't begin until I have several meetings with other departments, which will happen later this week.  So Sondra, my supervisor, gave me a few things to read and review while I was waiting around this afternoon.  After some thought, she pulled an article off of her bookshelf and turned to me saying, "Have you ever read any Stephen Weil?"  I felt a rush of blood to my skull as I said, "You know, I have."  (I had major issues with a Weil article I read this past semester, in which he invented fictional museums (toothpick museum, anyone?) and then tore them apart for lacking in their relevance to visitors).  But the article Sondra gave me was actually much less infuriating.

Next, Sondra gave me an article that she said was a description of the educational methods used at the DIA.  It was a basic outline for teachers and docents about VTS or Visual Thinking Strategies.  My final paper for Art Education last semester argued that VTS was the future of museum education, and far superior to other methods of art criticism used with students in informal learning environments.  I was thrilled.

The third article... I haven't read yet.  But I'll be sure to give a full report when I do read it.  And I will... eventually.

Finally, I was handed a copy of the DIA's strategic plan.  I was really turned off to strategic planning after my fall semester.  I had the impression that they were done to placate administrators and board members, but this document was really well organized, and a lot of the goals and objectives seemed reasonable. 

By the end of the afternoon, I had a phone number, a DIA email address (jbelcoure@dia.org) and access to the DIA network.  With these things established, I sat down at my very large workstation and ventured on to the DIA website, where I found something that stopped me dead.

My final paper for Dr. Willumson's museology seminar argued for the inclusion of historical and cultural context when displaying works of art in a museum.  I turned in this paper less than three weeks ago, so it is fresh in my mind.  Anyway... this is what I found:



Is art just art?  What was influencing the artists?

I love this ad.  Not only does it support the argument in my final project, but I think it sets up this exhibition to be really accessible for general audiences.  It gives a very general context, which I'm sure is expanded within the exhibition itself.  I haven't seen it yet, and I can't wait.

The title of this post says a lot.  It's something I overheard in the office, during a discussion about the dress code, but I think it could be applied to pretty much any aspect of the culture within this museum.  I've taken classes and read articles about working in the public sector and what it's like to work for a nonprofit organization... and none of that seems to fit the DIA.  This museum, while struggling in its own right, still has a massive budget, and a slick operation.  There are more people working on the third floor of the DIA than worked in the entire Department of History Arts and Libraries (which has since been disbanded).  Everything looks new and clean, and well maintained.  I had the feel of being inside a large, profitable company-- not a nonprofit cultural institution.

After all, it's not just any nonprofit-- it's the DIA.