Computers I: A matter of substance

Museum Management and Curatorship (1991), IO, 431-441

Professional Notes Computers I: A Matter of Substance Celadon is a lover, fictional, from a runaway best-seller of 1610. Through a progression of fatuous associations his name attached itself to a soft green colour and thence to a family of Far Eastern green ceramic wares perfected in China under the Sung. The type spread early to neighboring lands and later to the West. Today anyone may legally use the name-though, one would hope, at least for something green. All this is meant to open the question: What is a material (e.g. celadon) in the context of a museum catalogue? When this particular term is applied in a strict sense it carries a great deal of meaning. The object is stoneware. For round shapes, it is wheelthrown. The body is of iron-bearing clay, the glaze feldspathic and the pigment ferrous oxide reduced by firing in a sagger. It is no older than Sung (AD 960-1280), though there is older ‘proto-celadon’. It was made in the Far East and, if very old, in China. In this rigorous usage ‘celadon’ is a narrower term with respect to ‘ceramics’ and ‘stoneware’, and a broader term with respect to ‘Kuan ware’ and other specific names that generally imply a particular kiln site, with its local workshop, materials and trade secrets. From the most literal point of view the ‘material’ of a celadon piece-both of the body and of the glaze-is aluminum silicate, an absurd catalogue entry under ‘material’ or ‘medium’. Collections of art, cultural anthropology and history consist almost wholly of artifacts, objects made of some material(s) by some process; and nearly all object records include data fields of material description, often more than one such field. Frequently there is a ‘title’ field that may contain a descriptive phrase such as ‘Northern Celadon Vase’, three words so specific as to 0260-4779/91/04

0431-11

0

1991 Butterworth-Heinemann

convey an enormous amount of information about origin, shape, colour, function, manufacture and substance and, at the same time, to evoke a clear visual impression. Such a phrase goes far towards fulfilling one main function of the catalogue: to help a reader envision the absent object. The other function of the record, and especially of the automated record, is to classify, to support automatic selection of sets of related objects, to associate like with like. In other words, to list ‘all the X’ in the collection, where ‘X’ is any logical expression of one or more selection criteria. For this purpose ‘Northern Celadon Vase’ is far too rich. Within a single data field are implied data about many ‘dimensions’ of classification: date (before AD 1127), place of origin, colour, shape, function, material, technique and manufacture and what, for want of a standard name, may be called ‘tradition’, ‘craft’, ‘ware’ or perhaps ‘school’. For accurate selection, our object’s place in each dimension or ‘continuum’ should be specified separately, in its own data field or subfield. Indeed some of the dimensions just mentioned are complex in themselves. Material, our main concern here, is complicated by what may be called ‘role’ and ‘rank’. In celadon the roles of stoneware, vitreous feldspar and ferrous oxide are, respectively, body, glaze and pigment. Rank specifies relative importance. For example, in the case of ‘oil and pencil on canvas’, the oil paint (or perhaps the pencil in some cases) is the principal material (or ‘medium’) while the canvas ranks low, for a paint film, the essential material of a picture, can be transferred from one support to another with no change to the identity of the object. Although the broad distinction between visible surface and mechanical support is common to many artifacts, the fact remains that every type of thing has its own set of structural roles and list of possible materials Ltd

434

Professional Notes

and we would not wish to lose access to that information. In the Short Title field, however, the description should be contemporary, meaningful and, so far as possible, accurate. Usually compared to a photographic caption, this is the field which says what the object is and why it is interesting, and it should be in natural language, in a consistent style, readily understood by a human being. It should not confuse or offend. Data capture at the National Museums of Scotland is handled by staff skilled in breaking down information and recording it in a consistent fashion. They are not subject specialists, and while they may be expected to equip themselves with a glossary or an introduction to a new subject, they are not encouraged to spend valuable time getting a grasp of the latest developments in cladistics or current thinking on kinship systems. In order, therefore, to make the Short Title field of the ethnography records accessible and non-insulting, a list has been devised for use in their compilation, in cooperation with the Keeper of the Department of History and Applied Art, of terms which are to be avoided in current fields, and of substitutes for them. The list begins with an introductory paragraph explaining the necessity for the alterations, and examples are given of ‘correct’ Short Titles. The list contains fewer than a dozen terms at present, but may well be expanded as work progresses. We are not using the name ‘Eskimo’, Inuit being the preferred term. I was quite shocked when I found a reference to a ‘Savage Eskimo’ on one of our cards but it turned out to be not as bad as I feared; he has now been reconstituted as an Inuit from Savage Island. Some terms are just old-fashioned but require to be replaced in the interests of natural language: ‘lady’ with ‘woman’ and ‘maiden’ with ‘unmarried girl’. We omit the term ‘Heathen’ without using a substitute as it is usually tautological-we know, without being told, that the people concerned were not Christians and the word now has an insulting air of superiority about it. Each museum will have its own such list, based on the usages of its past curators and on the dictates of its collection. Old-fashioned terminology needs to be thought about in

connection with other types of collections, particularly of archaeological material, but perhaps not so urgently. The fact that language itself is not the problem, but the way in which people use it and the associations and connotations which it acquires can be nicely illustrated. The National Museums of Scotland’s I%hcentury ethnography records make frequent use of the word ‘Kaffir’ in a perfectly correct way, meaning a particular group of people in a particular place. However, it is not a word which curators would be happy about using on a label today: there are no ‘Kaffir Wars’ in the controlled fields of the database of our military collections. In looking for an alternative, ‘Bantu’ was the obvious choice, but it too is apparently starting to be used in an offensive fashion, as an all-purpose derogatory name for a Black African. Language is neither neutral nor static. New labels for groups towards whom a dominant section of society has negative or conflicting attitudes rapidly lose their neutrality; outside the museum world, changes from ‘cretin’ to ‘mentally defective’, from ‘mentally handicapped’ to ‘with learning difficulties’ demonstrate the constant degradation of neutrality. As a replacement for ‘Kaffir’, our choice for the moment is ‘Nguni’, but who knows when that will also have been taken over and all the records will have to be updated. Fortunately, our database software permits us to alter thousands of records as simply as one. Acknowledgements.

The author would like to thank John Burnett for his helpful discussions on language and classification, and Dale Idiens for her specific guidance on ethnographic language.

References

Burnett, J. and Clarke, D.V. (1989) ‘The Role of Older Descriptions and Identifications of Objects in a Museum Database’, International Journal of Museum Management and Curatorship, 8 (4): 431-434.

HELEN C. MCCORRY

435

Professional Notes

Education: Curriculum-makers Museums

Across

The Museum’s Educational Function Curriculum-making Terms

in

There are few reported inquiries into museum galleries, halls or exhibit areas as curricular sites. Planning for education is usually termed curriculum planning. Planning for education of the casual visitor in a museum setting is in many ways unlike planning for education in a school setting.’ The intended curriculum in a museum setting may be defined as the intention to enlighten the public, to shed light on the museum’s collections and creations. The curriculummaking process generally includes the development of a variety of communication devices to enhance visitor understanding. The experienced curriculum can be thought of as the actual opportunities taken up by individuals who informally and voluntarily visit a museum setting. Curriculum-makers tend to be a group of planners who deliberate about the learning environment to be produced.’ Museum workers, such as historians, curators, scientists, designers, interpretive planners, public programmers and marketing and public relations experts, have been the traditional curriculum-makers in the museum. The educator in the museum has historically been excluded from the deliberation process and used, instead, to plan complementary programs after environments have been produced by other museum workers. However, as with school-based curriculum planning, museum workers do deliberate about which educational ends are worth pursuing and the value of certain educational intentions. Research reported in CuwiculumMaking and the Museum Mosaic,3 used an interpretive, case study approach4 to: l

Examine what museums workers say and do about educational planning for the casual visitor in three specific museum settings. Selected for the inquiry were a living history museum called The Gibson House, an exhibition of contemporary artwork at the Art Gallery of Ontario, and

the Hall of Technology in the Ontario Science Centre. Which museum workers are designated as being responsible for education of the casual visitor within their institution? In what terms is public education about collected and created objects, ideas and phenomena discussed? How do museum workers decide on educational issues such as which educational ends are worth pursuing? How are learning environments produced which are instrumental to realizing these ends? Investigate visitor reactions to provided learning environments in order to look at the total picture of the produced environment. Compare similarities and differences with respect to curriculum-making among the three museums. Consider further research across other museums and educational settings. Valued Educational Mosaic of Museums

Experiences

across a

Three months to one year were spent by the present author as a participant observer in settings attempting to interpret what was happening in each situation. Each museum situation investigated was unique in terms of the educational decisions which were made and was distinctive in terms of subject matter, size, location, funding, missions and mandates. Each situation was full of complexities, with differences in values and perspectives. At each site educators working with the casual visitor were attempting to redefine their role and become more involved in the exhibit-planning process so that they could help to make experiences more meaningful for visitors. The outcomes evaluated at the three institutions suggest that planning for education of the public in museums has features typical of a curriculum-making process. There is an attempt to bring together potential learners and specific subject-matter towards a particular valued end. But the museum workers studied did not explicitly describe their educational intentions in terms of teaching the public and did not discuss learning as an end worth pursuing. General educational ends valued were the

Professional

438 Can

Curriculum

Education

Planning

Inform

Museum

Practice?

Is ‘curriculum planning’ a useful construct for reflecting about museum education practice? At the institutional level, the investigation of the curriculum-making process served to highlight potentially divisive splits between museum staff. There were changes, and there have continued to be changes, within the bureaucracy of each institution around issues such as volunteer or professional commitments, curatorial compared to education mandates, and time needed for program rather than planning responsibilities. Improved collaboration and planning, involving the public educators at each museum, are most likely to resolve tensions incurred as a result of exclusion from display development. Collaboration would help to reduce tensions among administrative departments across sites and elevate the status and self-image of educators within the bureaucracy of each institution. Other educational institutions can look to museums for inspiration. Museums have given considerable thought to the presentation of subject-matter through the objects they exhibit, the milieux they produce and the teaching aids they develop. Alternatively, educational researchers have taken little advantage of the museum setting as a rich resource for finding out about learning and teaching and the curriculum-making process. Inquiry across a broad mosaic of schools and museums and other cultural institutions may examine values of educators working with different sectors of the public, curriculumabout and issues related deliberations, policy-makers and policy-making in diverse educational environments. At the very least, improved collaboration among educators who plan for education of the public may provide for enhanced learning experiences for the wide range of individuals in the public audience. Editors’ Note. Professor Soren has in this report highlighted the key ideas and findings from her doctoral dissertation, ‘CurriculumMaking and the Museum Mosaic’ completed in June 1990, at the Ontario Institute for Studies in Education, University of Toronto. Material from this research has also been

Notes

presented at the American Educational Research Association Annual Meeting in Chicago (7 April 1991), the Canadian Museums Association 1991 Conference in Hamilton (22 June) and the 1991 Visitor Studies Conference in Ottawa (9 August). Notes

1. See, for instance: Valorie Beer, ‘Curriculum

in museums’, Paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Educational Research Association, Chicago, April 1985. Valorie Beer and David D. Marsh, ‘A non-school curriculum model illustrated in a museum setting’,

Journal of Curriculum 1988, pp. 221-239.

and Supervision,

3(3),

2. Joseph J. Schwab, ‘The practical 3: Translation of curriculum’, School Review, 81, 1973, pp. 501-522. Decker F. Walker, ‘Curriculum development in an art project’, in William A. Reid and Decker F. Walker (eds.), Case studies in curriculum change-Great Britain and the United States (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975), pp. 91-135. 3. Barbara J. Soren, Curriculum-Making and the Museum Mosaic. Unpublished doctoral dissertation (The Ontario Institute for Studies in Education, University of Toronto, Toronto, Canada, 1990). Erickson, ‘Qualitative methods m 4. Frederick research on teaching’, in M. Wittrock (ed.), Handbook

of

Research

on

Teaching

(New

York: Macmillan, 1986), pp. 119-161. Yvonna S. Lincoln and Egon G. Guba, Naturalistic Inquiry (Beverly Hills, CA: Sage, 1985). Michael Quinn Patton, Qualitative Evaluation Methods (Beverly Hills, CA: Sage, 1980). Robert L. Wolf and Barbara L. Tymitz, ‘A preliminary guide for conducting naturalistic evaluation in studying museum environments’, (Washington, DC: Office of Museum Programs, Smithsonian Institution, 1978). 5. Gilbert Ryle, The Concept of Mind (New York: Barnes and Noble, 1949). on 6. Dillon Ripley, The Sacred Grove-Essays (Washington, DC: Smithsonian Museums. Institution Press, 1969). 7. George F. MacDonald, The Future of Museums in the Global Village (Ottawa: Canadian Museum of Civilization, 1986). George F. MacDonald, ‘Epcot centre in museological perspective’, Muse, VI(l), 1988, pp. 27-31. Joel Weiss, Judith Weinstein and Eileen Dykes, More Than Just a Pretty Face-The Meanings Behind the Bat Cave Gallery (Toronto: The

Ontario Institute for Studies in Education for The Royal Ontario Museum, 1988). BARBARA J. SOREN

Professional

Exhibit Design: A Plant Case for ‘12,000 Years in Maine’ On 18 May 1991 the Maine State Museum opened ‘12,000 Years in Maine’, an exhibition tracing Maine’s native American heritage from postglacial (c. 12,000 BP) to historic nearly 2000 (I9th-century) time. Though artifacts occupied the 6000 square-foot exhibit space, one display was entirely devoid of archaeological and ethnographic material. Nevertheless, its representation of wild food plants was to make it not only an important supportive statement for the exhibition but one of the most popular installations in the series. Th e purpose of th e plant case was to show the wide variety and abundance of edible vegetable matter available to human inhabitants of the Maine environment prior to the arrival of Europeans. With this goal in mind a list of plant species had been generated from pollen records and other indirect evidence. Concern about visual impact had then led to the decision to display all plant material in a life-like three-dimensional manner. During construction of the exhibit hall, a triangular corner case had been reserved for the wild food plants. This modest case (6.5 x 6.5 x 9 ft at the face) with a height of less than 6ft was to contain 49 species of plants and 62 foraged products. In order to convey a feeling of abundance, multiples of the foraged products were to be shown. This amounted to many hundreds of fruits, nuts, roots, etc. To collect all the specimen plants and their food products and to display this vast amount of material without overwhelming the visitor became a major challenge for the author. Plants selected for the exhibit represented examples from various habitats (woodland, marsh, meadow, etc.) within the state of Maine, and the availability of the food products collectively encompassed three seasons of the year. These factors frustrated efforts to obtain plants in a timely manner, often requiring several field trips into each habitat from early spring until late autumn. Between field trips, intensive work had to be

Notes

439

carried out in the laboratory before plants wilted, shifted color or decayed. Meticulous color notes and careful measurements were taken of all specimens and even of dried material which might possibly fade over prolonged periods. In addition, plaster or RTV rubber molds were made of leaves and selected plant parts. A few specimens also required the preparation of small colored wax blocks to record their translucency. Finally, samples of all the plants were stored in jars of formalin for later reference. When the exhibit cases were built for ‘12,000 Years in Maine’, a system of plastic tubing was included which linked thermal and humidity control units to each case. The purpose of this system was to reduce climatic stress on delicate ethnographic and archaeological artifacts by maintaining a constant relative humidity and temperature. Although the plant case was to contain no such artifacts, it was fitted to the system, resulting in a relative humidity of 48% ?2% and a temperature of 73 “F +l “F. This environment allowed for a greater range of materials to be considered in treating or fabricating th e plants and their food parts. Consequently, a few plant materials, such as nuthulls, grains and the stalks of grasses, could be preserved by slow drying followed by color restoration using oil paints or, as in the case of burs and very stiff-leaved plants, by a two-month immersion in glycerin solution prior to drying. However, less than 20 percent of the specimens could be treated by such means. The majority of plants and their edible products required fabrication. Though various plastics have become popular for fabricating artificial plants in dioramas, these materials were used only when necessary, i.e. for reproducing large, paper-thin leaves. The medium of choice became the traditional medium, wax (both microcrystalline and beeswax), because it met four important criteria: good fidelity from molds, good workability, low toxicity and excellent longevity under the controlled climatic conditions which had been developed for the exhibit case. Furthermore, the natural translucency of wax proved to be essential in duplicating oily nutmeats and fruits containing high water content. Wax leaves are reproduced from two-piece