Museum reflections - "a machine for learning"

Elephant ivory carving, probably 1820s Japan

The Japanese-influenced architectural giant in USA of 100 years ago, Frank Lloyd Wright, is credited with the saying that "a house is a machine for living." The meaning is that particulars of interior spaces affect patterns of movement and rest, sight lines and ease (or hindrance) of speaking to each other. Availability of light (from windows or artificial sources) affects where a person dwells for work or leisure, too. The same is true of offices and factories; not just residential settings. Using this same way to describe the functional activity for museum-goers interacting with subjects framed and labels, one can say "a museum is a machine for learning and reflection." In other words, people who work or who visit a museum can efficiently learn about things they seek answers to, but also discover questions they did not expect to have. Some museum designs (architecture) and arrangement of displays (curation) will be better at producing learning results than others: putting things in the right order (from surface to depth) and in the right variety (theme versus variation) and in the right amount (neither too much information, nor too little), for example.

This photo from the Grand Rapids Public Museum in downtown Grand Rapids, Michigan shows one of a small number of carved ivory figures on public display from East Asia as part of the permanent exhibition. It is part of the section that presents uses of ivory (elephant, walrus, narwal, and so on). The figurines date to the 1800s and therefore depict artful portraits of that time, or possibly in a slightly nostalgic turn, they imagine the clothing and livelihoods of the maker's grandparents' time. In that sense this is a kind of snapshot, frozen in time; either of the time in which the carver lived, or one imagined from before the carver's own direct experience. As such the museum visitors who decide to stop long enough to glimpse or to scrutinize the craftwork, or who follow the marked "2" nearby to read the corresponding label text, below, may learn something new about the place and the time; or they may think about the larger topic of this section of the museum and see the relationship between hunters, merchants, artists, and art-buyers (and then museums that inherit the pieces from private owners). Reflecting on the artifact in another way, though, this 1800s "snapshot" is a window to its place and time. That brings up the question about a time traveller who visits a future museum display to see the craftwork of 2023 makers. What could possibly be analogous to this ivory handiwork? So many things today are mediated with digital devices that it is hard to see the fingerprints of the creator in the finished item. Leaving aside the virtuoso use of tools, a related question for 2023 artifacts is what the figure would look like: ethnic attributes, choice of formal or informal attire, action depicted? Relatively few people catch fish, and fewer still go onto the water using paddle-power. Maybe the 2023 statuette would be 3-D printed from a snapshot source to capture a person on an eScooter in baggy clothing and one-ear plugged with earbud and dangling wire leading to phone in pocket.

Part of "People of this Place" permanent exhibition of Native Americans around Michigan

Getting back to the "machine for learning and reflection" idea, this next photo from the museum is filled with loaned artifacts from many families around Michigan. There are photos, video kiosks scrolling some images and text, as well as looping movies using subtitles to minimize noise in the gallery, artifacts old and new, home-made and store-bought, direct quotes and curator commentary. In order to help visitors orient themselves to the issues and settings, artifacts and illustrations are grouped into several parts of the floorplan. People who make many short visits can add more and more learning with each time they read and look carefully at the materials. People who make a once-in-a-lifetime visit can add to their store of knowledge and awareness, too, although the amount and kinds of information is so great that a single engagement with the displays is not enough to get a full understanding of "People of the Place." These observations are true of non-Indian museum-goers. Those who have artifacts in the exhibition, or have no materials on display, but know some of the people featured, or who count themselves among Michigan's Native Americans will likely have a different way of seeing what is behind the glass of the display cases. In all visitors, though, the museum is a "machine for learning and reflection," as well as site for researchers, artists, writers, and others to add to their knowledge, experience, and way of seeing things.

Ripping out bushes on October 18 for museum expansion project

This last photo shows the first stages of the museum expansion project. Large outdoor display pieces have been placed out of the way, fencing around the construction site is installed, and now the excavator rips the bushes from the edge of the broad sidewalk to make way for digging the foundations of the new addition. Just as the 1993 museum organizes its architecture into spaces for object-based learning, now the new building will also grow from blueprint to foundations and skeleton, to fully finished interiors for the curators to complete with their displays, signage, and amenities for visitors and staff, too. In this way the principle of "machine for learning and reflection" is reproduced in the current generation to reach into the future for people there to engage with the subjects on display.

Special LEGO exhibition at Grand Rapids Public Museum in 2020

 

The giant LEGO honey bee suspended overhead in the foyer of the Grand Rapids Public Museum is a vivid example of the wondrous sculptures and dioramas created for display in the special exhibition starting in fall 2020. This video clip starts with the scale model of the hosting museum itself, adjacent to the (LEGO) Grand River, made from more than 4,000 pieces of the colorful plastic building materials. Then the camera turns to show the larger-than-life bee above.

Seeing both the miniature LEGO museum in its plexiglass case and the honey bee brings to mind several thoughts: the creative impulse to make such things, the faint whiff of irony that the honey bee representation is made from the petroleum product that modern life depends on but which also has led to habitat degradation and destruction that accelerates loss of bee populations, the nature of public engagement and awareness, including the role that museums play for sparking interest in the natural world and forming relationships between humans and all the other creatures sharing the planet. Not everyone coming to the museum will pay the separate admission to the LEGO exhibition, but for those who do browse the sculptures and dioramas, the intricacy of the models and creativeness of the makers will make an impression. But it is an open question with unclear answers to know whether new curiosity will arise, new respect will develop for non-human creatures and their habitats, and by extension an increase in awareness for the consequence of personal consumption assumptions and expectations will occur.

While the pandemic rages in Michigan the museum controls the number of visitors by online (or telephone) reservation of admission tickets and member passes accepted each day. In this video clip some of the visitors queued at the admission desk show their face masks. Perhaps this heightened microbe consciousness from the sustained health mandates from the Michigan health department will contribute slightly to greater public curiosity of the natural world, scientific tools and logic, and renewed respect for facts supported by data instead of 'gut feeling' or the hubris of bald claims made in loud, politically motivated performances that Donal J. Trump incarnates.

 An album of G.R.P.M. photos and video clips can be seen at https://www.flickr.com/photos/anthroview/albums/72157717510759343