single oil painting seeks art lover for lifelong relationship

I stumbled upon this Boston start-up from an ad on Facebook and was compelled to check it out. Turning Art has been described as "NetFlix for artwork" but I'd argue it is more like an online dating service for art-lovers with commitment issues. You put together your queue and sign up to receive a print in the mail to try out on your wall. If you happen to fall in love you can choose to purchase the actual painting, but if you decide to just be friends, you can take comfort in knowing you'll have another one coming in the mail in a couple months to swap it out with. Folks who are unsure what kind of art they'd like to share their homes with can test-drive paintings with zero risk and it seems like a moderately effective way for artists to gain exposure and sell their work as well. And as incentive to continue using the service and eventually make a purchase, the longer you subscribe the more credits you accumulate toward buying an original painting. I think the "try it before you buy it" approach sounds rather clever.

While most of the artwork is hideously bad, I did manage to compile a queue that I may someday actually use:

I made my list pretty quickly using the site's "sort by color" tool and choosing orange and blue to match my living room furniture. Since I definitely have the mind of a designer rather than an artist I tend to wonder "does this match my couch?" before "does this hold deep meaning for me?" and so this feature was particularly effective for me.

But I am a little skeptical of the idea of buying art when I've only ever seen it as a print. For me it's not just the imagery but the physicality of the piece that resonates with me. It's the dating site equivalent of committing to someone of whom you've only seen photos. But seriously, I get the feeling this method works better for the photography than paintings on the site. For that reason I'm a little surprised that there are so many more paintings than photographs available.

Skepticism aside, I could definitely see myself trying out a service like this some day when I'm feeling a little less broke. The subscription price is actually very affordable but adding to my art collection right now is a luxury I'm postponing for the time being. Maybe I could save up by making some paintings to sell on the site. It appears that the system works much like a gallery: artists offer their work on consignment. Instead of displaying the work in person, Turning Art creates a number of prints. The prints are loaned but not sold; they explain that the prints are actually destroyed when the original is purchased.

I think this sounds like a really accessible way to enter the world of art collecting. I maintain that gallery shows and street fairs are the ideal venues for finding artwork to fall in love with but what if the art in your town really isn't your type? This just might be the way to go. I'd love to know if anyone out there has used this site, especially if it's culminated in a purchase.

all work and plenty of play

So we just opened a big exhibition at the museum and you could say our exhibit department is suffering through the usual post-partum depression that comes with the culmination of any long-term project like this. Plus it's summertime. We're burnt out and distracted. One way we've been staying inspired is by playing. Here in Silicon Valley, the toy that we've become a little obsessed with is this technological marvel: the overhead projector.

Here we're set up in the bubble exhibit with a bucket of soapy water on the deck of the projector. It couldn't be simpler, but for some reason it's irresistible. This two-and-a-half-year-old was utterly captivated- when it was time to go his mother had to literally drag him away.

And it's just as irresistible for the grown-ups upstairs in the offices. Below, exhibit developer Sara DeAngelis has set up her overhead projector, playing patterns of light on a translucent window between her office and the education department's offices.

Each new thing she places on the projector is met with oohs and ahs and "what's that?!"s from the other side of the wall. Everyone has to come peek in and see what's going on and once they see, everyone wants to come play in Sara's office.

We each bring over all sorts of odd materials to experiment with and watch the results. We ask each other, "What do you think this is?" "Why am I getting this effect?" and "I wonder what would happen if..." It's started a playful dialogue between the departments and reminded us all of the value of curiosity and a sense of wonder.

pricey vs. priceless

Do museums have a kind of moral obligation ... to be free?
(NY Times, June 11)

Is it fair that we the public must pay to enter these temples of culture? Museums are supported by government grants after all. And museums make acquisitions with taxpayer dollars so we're basically paying to see stuff we already own anyway. Right?

Well... not really. If you want to play the "this is our public property" game, don't forget that if you want these paintings/sculptures/giant pandas/redwood forests/jelly fish tanks to be "yours", you need to be paying people to take care of them, protect them, and help you learn about why you want them to begin with. And as for the "I already paid for this with my taxes" argument goes, well that doesn't really work either. We subsidize all kinds of things with our tax dollars. You still have to buy cornflakes and gasoline and pay tolls, and yes, even admission fees. All you did was help knock the admission fee down a little for yourself. Your trip to the Met now costs you $25 instead of $25.01.

Because sure, about a couple hundred dollars of your federal income taxes went to "science/education" this year (most of which goes to the space program and Pell grants). But, divide up your remaining sum amongst 17,500 museums in the United States and you'll see just how generous that penny I gave you is. Of course this is really sloppy; I'm only using federal income taxes and neglecting state and sales tax and of course museums don't each get an annual check from the government. But I think you catch my drift. Our taxes get used for a lot of things. There are a lot of museums. Your taxes pay for plenty of things only part way and museums admission fees fall into that category (wheredidmytaxdollarsgo.com).

But it's not just about dollars and cents. We museum folks seem to have a schizophrenic relationship with the value of our collections as it relates to cost. I don't think it does us much good as museums to simultaneously explain that we are so extraordinary that we need to charge $25 to get in and that our offerings are as essential to the human experience as the very air we breathe. Hard to justify charging that much for air, y'all. Let's get our story straight.

At some point we have to decide whether the museum experience is a fancy luxury, a once-in-a-while treat, a daily expense, a subsidized staple, or a god-given right. Can't have it two ways.

Strand by Strand: Emotional Engagement at the Museum of the Earth

This is the first in a series of posts inspired by the National Research Council report Learning Science in Informal Environments: People Places and Pursuits. The report outlines Six Strands of informal science learning. Each of my posts will focus on a museum exhibit that exemplifies one of these Strands. This post also appears as a review on ExhibitFiles.

Strand One: Developing Interest in Science

"... personal interest and enthusiasm are important for supporting children's participation in learning science." (Learning Science, 43)

If you're not interested in science, chances are you won't want to learn about it. And that's why Developing an Interest in Science is the first Strand in the NRC report. One of the best ways to foster an interest in science is through personal discovery. The feeling of discovery is very emotional and memorable and it helps to build deep, personal connections. Learning Science refers to this as "emotional engagement". The Museum of the Earth of Ithaca, New York knows the power of emotional engagement and invites visitors to make their own personal discoveries in their Fossil Lab.

The Fossil Lab is a facilitated table in the corner of Beneath an Ancient Sea, a gallery in the permanent exhibit Journey Through Time. There, volunteers call visitors over to a series of bins overflowing with locally found fossil-rich shale.

“If you find a fossil, you can keep it,” they say.

I can’t think of a more enticing proposition. On my recent visit to the museum I watched two kids, maybe 5 and 7, sit at this table for a good half hour, jumping up with excitement whenever they found a trilobite or a brachiopod and proudly showing their finds to their mother. The volunteer scientists behind the counter helped them identify their fossils, but of course the real prize was the thrill of discovery and taking home a special treasure.

It came as no surprise to learn from one of the scientists volunteering at the table that day that this experience is incredibly labor intensive to maintain and staff. They have to pore over most of the shale before it goes out on the table to ensure good fossil content and the table must be staffed at all times. On my rainy Saturday visit there were no staff members on the floor except for in that corner. The museum realized they had a successful, popular activity and made it their priority. At other museums, these kinds of facilitated experiences are often overlooked or ruled out for lack of resources, but even a small museum like the Museum of the Earth can maintain a docent station like the Fossil Lab if they decide it's important enough.

Judging from the squeals of excitement coming from the Fossil Lab, I’d say the Museum of the Earth made an excellent call. There’s no doubt in my mind that the children I watched will be talking about their discoveries and showing off their souvenir fossils for years to come. The highly emotional experience of discovering something for yourself not only builds strong memories, it gives you a sense of ownership and personal connection to what you're learning about. And it's through those connections that you start developing the interest in science that provides the foundation for science learning.

off the wall: pirates!

I started writing for this new blog called Off the Wall, dedicated to critical reviews of contemporary history exhibits and displays. I'll be re-publishing my posts for Off the Wall here for your reading pleasure.

A week ago I put on my boots and my puffy white shirt and sailed up to the NorCal Pirate Festival, a pirate-themed event at the docks on Mare Island in Vallejo California. There were vendors selling piratey wares, musicians playing sea shanties, games of all kinds, and more pirates than I’d ever seen! Perhaps more pirates than the world has ever seen: the festival has unofficially broken the Guinness record for the largest pirate gathering in history.

Amidst all the revelry, I spied a tent with some well-dressed looking folks who didn’t look like pirates to me. Curious, I struck up a conversation with a man who introduced himself as William Fairfax - not a pirate! He explained that I was in the Bahamas and I’d stumbled upon the Governor’s House at Nassau harbor on the island of New Providence, a British colony. The year was 1781. He introduced me to the honorable Governor Woodes Rogers who told me the story behind their camp.

According to the Governor, in the 1780s Nassau looked not unlike our 2010 Festival: a haven for all manner of pirates. These were the real pirates of the Caribbean. Many of them had once been legal privateers, and some upheld a code to only plunder ships with foreign flags, but nevertheless they were thieves and British merchants were losing most of their ships’ cargos to pirates. Something had to be done.

And that was where Governor Rogers’ plan came in. An ex-privateer himself, Rogers won the favor of pirate governor Benjamin Hornigold and together the two led a pirate recovery program.

It was refreshing to see the other side of the law represented at the Pirate Festival and I told Governor Rogers this. He nodded and said that he’d wanted to “even things out a bit” and this was his way of adding an educational dimension to the festivities. He lamented the lack of historical accuracy in popular pirate movies featuring sea monsters and zombies. “History is more interesting and fantastical than fantasy,” he said. “It’s some pretty strange stuff.”

The Governor, far right, awaits his turn to sign my pardon.

At this point, Rogers asked me if I would like to renounce my piracy and sign a pardon. I figured that it sounded better than being hanged and he even said I could keep my booty, so it seemed like a pretty good deal. The governor signed and stamped my pardon and I was no longer pirate. A good thing too because Mr. Fairfax informed me that another lady pirate, Anne Bonny, was due to be “given a fair trial and hanged” that very day.

I'm a proud reformed pirate.

case study: anteater cantina

I submitted this case study to ExhibitFiles a couple months ago, but I thought I'd re-publish it here in case you missed it.


The Anteater Cantina is a docent station at Roger Williams Park Zoo. It was developed in celebration of the arrival of the newest star of the Tropical America exhibition, a 7-foot long giant anteater named Johei.

Visitors entering Tropical America are welcomed by pink flamingos before stopping by the giant anteater habitat on their way into the rainforest building. After their trek through the rainforest, visitors can rest at the Anteater Cantina and learn from volunteer docents about the feeding adaptations of the animals they've just encountered.

The education team defined the goals of the station and architects designed the building accordingly. The building needed a storage closet, counter space to accommodate interactives and docents' props, and enough room for several docents to stand behind the counter comfortably.

Since the focus of the docent station was on the feeding adaptations of rainforest animals, it seemed appropriate to model the look after a Latin American diner. A red corrugated roof was chosen to give the impression of Spanish tile and the exterior of the building was covered in joint putty to look like stucco. Plastic vacuum-formed ceiling tiles were installed to give the look of a tin ceiling. Faux finishes were applied over interior and exterior walls to give the look of tile and stone. A menu and "posters"; painted directly on the wall make humorous reference to the feeding adaptations of the animals in the exhibit. To further the theme, faux chili ristras, a hanging basket with rubber fruit, an old-fashioned telephone, and other props were added. Rubber insects adorn the walls and details like a stack of Sloth Brand Decaf cans complete the look. Some of the props did double-duty: the diner-style clock and erasable specials board not only looked the part, they helped docents stay on schedule and give visitors a list of the day's demonstrations.

The anteater feeding game encourages visitors to "eat like an anteater"; and use a magnetic tongue to gobble up ball-bearing termites. The original intent for the interactives was to provide content when docents were off-duty. When docents were available they would remove the interactives for a clear counter space to show skulls or demonstrate feeding techniques. When their shifts were over, they could put the interactives on the counter and lock them back into place. Unfortunately the games proved too heavy and cumbersome to expect volunteers to lift and move them. Instead, it was decided that half the counter would be devoted to interactives and other half would be clear for docent use.

While the station is far more engaging when docents are present, visitor response to the Anteater Cantina has been very positive. Says visitor Janet Noke of her son, "He was thrilled at the Cantina to be able to hold the anteater skull, and manipulate the tongue in the interactive toy."



For more photos, please visit the case study on ExhibitFiles.

finite=alright

I'm volunteering at the American Association of Museums (AAM) Conference this week and I've had the chance to enjoy some really interesting sessions. One such session was On the Road: Ephemeral Exhibits and the Visitor Experience. It was all about the emergence of transient exhibits in museums and the "pop-up" museum trend. The discussion was lively and as someone without a museum studies background, some of the theory was hard to follow, but since the talk I've been mulling over the idea of impermanent exhibitions and the concept of the temporary museum.

Each of the panelists were curators of transient exhibitions and museums including FAX at the Drawing Center of New York, the McCormick Freedom Project of Chicago, the Denver Community Museum, and the Torrance Art Museum of Los Angeles. Through discussion of their exhibits and museums, the panelists gave us insight into their own reasons for exploring the medium of pop-up museums and exhibitions.

One of the most valuable aspects of the transient exhibition is its ability to empower visitors and curators alike. The experience of visiting a fleeting exhibit experience is a lot like buying a limited edition print or attending an exclusive small-venue concert: you are one of only select number of buyers or visitors or concert-goers and as a result, you become a special person. The transient exhibit also offers transparency to visitors as the exhibit process unfolds in front of them. They can witness the full life-cycle of the exhibition: from creation, over change, through disassembly. From a curatorial standpoint transient exhibitions can be freeing. They can be a way to take on risk in an isolated window of time and if done independently, a curator can take on full creative control and bypass lengthy approval processes.

Interestingly enough, I heard more skepticism of the exhibition style from some of the presenters themselves. Some of the complaints against the medium cited a lack of history-making, catering to short attention spans, and bringing the museum experience to people who don't want it to begin with. I'm glad these concerns were raised because they're important questions to ask when creating such an exhibit.

More and more, contemporary artists are expressing a need for venues to show work that changes over time, is added to or taken from by visitors, or simply has a limited lifespan. It can cause a museum some anxiety to have to deal with that kind of ephemeral art, especially since museums have always been dedicated to preservation and conservation. And it's fair to worry about the legacy of these pieces if we can't add them to our permanent collections. In response to this, the Torrance Art Museum has decided not to keep a collection at all and effectually all exhibitions are of the pop-up variety. Even without a policy of non-collection, some of that fear of impermanence can be alleviated with an ever-widening range of ways to record transient experiences. After all, performance artists have been making their work permanent with video and photography since the invention of film. Likewise, temporary museums that have come and gone, like the Denver Community Museum, live on in website form with photos of exhibitions and details about the location and mission.

I understand the concern that these transient exhibits might be riding the trend of catering to over-caffeinated, over-extended, focus-lacking multi-taskers. That said, as long as the vision is not compromised and delivers an experience that meets the long-term mission of the museum, it’s less like enabling and instead giving more entry points to an institution. Offering a variety of ways to access a museum can be one of the most welcoming things an institution does.

Museums argue over audience-expanding initiatives all the time. Many include in their missions that they hope to engage new under-represented community members and expand their visitorship. At the same time, there also exists the mentality that if people want to go to museums, they’ll go and that it’s our bias as museum professionals that everyone should be interested in what interests us. My response is this: not everyone will want what we offer, but let’s give as many people as possible an personal invitation to see for themselves and make better informed decisions about their own interests. By placing temporary exhibits or mobile museums in public spaces, they become ambassadors to the museum experience. People who don’t think they belong in museums have the opportunity to change their minds if they find themselves running across a museum unexpectedly.

The concept of the temporary museum has really inspired me and I’m considering creating one of my own in the near future. At the very least, I’ll be doing more research and seeking out examples in my area. One such museum that I'm looking forward to exploring is the SF Mobile Museum and I hope to participate in their next exhibit challenge. If you know of museum popping up in San Francisco soon, please do let me know!