It’s dangerous to be on twitter. Recently, Tanja Praske from KULTUR-MUSEO-TALK threw a blog stick at me. I had to look it up first but now I take it with white gloves and answer her questions:

Who are you? What excites you about your job?

I’m many. No, I’m not schizophrenic, but Registrar Trek is a joint project with four permanent authors, many guest authors and at the moment 36 translators. The range goes from the Canadian collection manager to the Russian marketing expert who lives in Bulgaria to the press officer in Simbabwe. I take the liberty to answer your questions as Angela Kipp, co-founder and administrator of the project.

I’m the collection manager of the TECHNOSEUM in Mannheim/Germany. It might sound trite, but what excites me most about my job is the diversity of tasks. One day you organize the shipping of a huge, fragile machine, the next you wonder how to store 400 little magnetic traffic signs that once belonged to a driving school. Our collection contains about 170,000 artifacts and to safeguard that nothing gets damaged and everything is stored properly, efficient and retrievable is a Sisyphean task, to put it in a positive way: a life’s work.

Registrar Trek is a private project where I act out my passion for writing and new media. As a positive professional side effect it helps socializing with colleagues who work in collections management or related fields around the world.

How long have you been planning for your current exhibition/project? What was the biggest challenge and how did you solve the issue?

Oh, that’s not an easy one to answer. We who are working in the museum storage are the logistical backbone for a great deal of activities in a museum, that’s why many tasks and projects run parallel. Recently, we opened the exhibition “The Collection 2: The Electrical Household”. Despite the general opinion this doesn’t mean that the work on the exhibition is done. Now we are clearing the way for the artifacts to come back, which means reorganizing spaces so when we take down the exhibition the artifacts can come to their storage places quick and the whole process runs smoothly. The faster we manage the dismantling of this exhibition, the more buffer time we create for the installation of the next exhibition “Herzblut” (“heart blood”, in Germany a term also used for commitment) about medical history.

Both exhibitions use mainly artifacts from our own collection, this means also that both exhibition teams have/had to work parallel in the storage area. Logically, no object should be confused with another or – worse – disappear. Much more artifacts are sighted than are used in the final exhibition. All database entries must be checked and corrected if necessary, most of the time they also need a picture.

Many objects need to be treated by conservators before they can be photographed which means one more transport. One can roughly imagine how many object moves there are if you know that there are 1750 artifacts exhibited in “Collection 2” and there will be at least 200 artifacts published in the exhibition catalog for “Heart Blood” alone, not to mention the whole exhibition… Needless to say that there is our normal everyday work of acquisitions and loaning to other museums.

The main challenge is to keep track of everything in this gigantic game of Tetris. If work flow and documentation is organized smoothly, a burst pipe on the special exhibition area like we had it this time can be treated relaxed as a minor incident.

What is the smallest artifact in your collection?

It’s probably a grammophone needle. They are only about one centimeter long and very thin. The respective containers are already so small that I can balance eight of them in the palm of my hand (not that I recommend this from an arthandling point of view!).

Is there an odd story/experience concerning and artifact/exhibition? Tell us about it. It can be an strange object, too.

Oh, there are tons of stories… Talking about “creative packaging”: There was a donation to our museum, the artifact doesn’t matter here. It was in a box and when we opened it, the first thing we saw were trash bags, the ones you get for free in Mannheim to collect plastics for recycling. Anyway, those bags were filled with cut out caps from milk bags. Probably they should form a flexible cushion. The artifact itself was wrapped in a bath mat. The kind that are cut out like an U to put them in front of the toilet. Obviously, this mat was historical too, and hadn’t seen a washing machine before changing its intended use…

Do you have a favorite artifact? Why?

Asking a grandmother for her favorite grandchild… Maybe the K2 manufactured by AEG, the oldest surviving magnetic tape recorder. Its ancestors K1 were destroyed when an exhibition hall burned down at the international radio show in Berlin 1935. As far as our research goes there is only one copy of the successor K2 left – the one in our collection. While it’s quite natural for a collection of paintings to have unique artifacts it’s something very special for a collection of artifacts that were manufactured in great numbers.

Which artifact was the last one treated by a conservator and why?

Currently there are many artifacts treated for “Heart Blood”. Cleaning measures included we speak about hundreds of artifacts that are treated by our team of conservators. I remember especially the “Blaue Heinrich” (might be known as “Blue Henri” or “Blue Peter” in English speaking countries), a blue bottle used as a spittoon for people suffering tuberculosis. This might sound familiar to all of you who read “The Magic Mountain” by Thomas Mann. For we weren’t sure if there was still infectious material inside it had to be sanitized by a conservator. Guess that’s one of the things you don’t really think about when deciding to study conservation…

What’s the significance of your blog for your museum?

We are not a blog of the TECHNOSEUM, they have their own blog at http://www.technoseum-blog.de (worth a look!), that’s why Registrar Trek has no “official” significance. But of course my work inspired one article or the other, we have some faithful readers among our staff and the international network is helpful in many aspects of everyday work.

Do you have a favorite blogpost? If so, why?

Again asking a grandmother for her favorite grandchild… maybe “The Museum Registrar as Loans…” by Derek Swallow where he names the different professions a registrar has to be while he is involved with a loan – from juggler to legal associate. It’s a great article over all but I especially like the pictures he chose from the archives.

What does culture mean to you?

Culture is very important to me. But I’m not thinking about museums, theaters, opera, the so called “high culture”, in the first place, but culture in a more general meaning of the word, the everyday culture, how we interact as human beings. I find it thrilling to learn about different cultures. You don’t have to go abroad or look at people with migration background. It’s totally sufficient to look at our own surroundings. How much a culture exemplified by television is copied in everyday life. How it influences the language, the clothes, the wishes, for example. I think it’s very rewarding to observe this and to question it. For example many colleagues and friends from North America are surprised when I tell them what we think is “typical American”. The caricature transported by American TV series is not very far from the German as Nazi with leather trousers. To find parallels and differences in other cultures and think about the own culture – or maybe better: cultures – is very exciting.

If you “have an affair” with other cultural venues, what do you do?
I go to other museums and look what I would have done differently. Not fair, but fun. Apart from that I’m so surrounded by culture at my work that I prefer nature in my private life.

You got three wishes, what do you wish for?
1. Health for me and my family, I don’t know how you count, maybe all three are gone now but if not so…
2. Financial security for the rest of my life
3. The third wish I give to anyone desperately needing a wish

Phew, I’ve done it!

Now whom to throw the stick? Most outstanding blogs I can think of already got the #BestBlog Award. But I found one that is definitely worth it: the German/Russian/English Blog “Museum, Politics and Power” http://museumspoliticsandpower.org/ Duck and cover, Katrin, Linda and the others I haven’t known until now, here are your questions:

1. How did you come up with the idea of this blog?
2. How is the collaboration organized despite of the language barriers?
3. What projects are you working on?
4. Which blog entry stirred your emotions?
5. Which blog entry had the most outreach?
6. Which museum blogs do you like especially?
7. Which exhibition you found outstanding recently?
8. Which recent museum trends are interesting?
9. If you could found a museum as team of “Museum, Politics & Power” and you had all the money in the world …what would be the topic?
10. …which three artifacts definitely belong in the exhibition?
11. …where would it be?

And now?

As far as I understood the game:

– Answer the eleven questions. You may bend them to your convenience.
– Put the BestBlog picture in there and link to the blog that awarded you or link to the article of the one who threw the stick.
– Create eleven new questions and ask them ten other bloggers (it can be less than ten).

Would be great to post a comment with the link as soon as you answered my questions.

Have a great week, all!
Angela

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to do the same exhibition again? Do the opportunities for avoiding mistakes make it different or better? Well, that’s kind of the situation we ran into recently.

How it all began

In 2010 the museum building needed to take clearing-up measures that ate up much of the budget. But, of course, our visitors still wanted to see something. No money, no staff, no time – was there a solution? Yes, there was. We still had our own collections! Minimum transportation costs, no courier fees, no insurance problems. If we used only storage racks as showcases and archival materials for presentation we didn’t need much exhibition design and could re-use the materials afterwards. The more we thought about it, the more we fell for the idea. As an extra, we could check a large amount of our collection, correct data base entries, maybe retrieve some of the “location unknown“ artifacts and resolve some “found in collections.” To make a long story short, in 2011 we opened “Die Sammlung: 1001 Objekt zum Hören und Sehen“ (The Collection: 1001 Artifacts to Listen To and Look At), a presentation of our collections of radios, TV sets, record players, film projectors, cameras, tape recorders, video recorders… Our visitors loved it!

So, as you can imagine, when it became clear we would repeat the exhibition using our collection of household appliances, we were all excited. And while team spirit during the preparation of the first collection’s exhibition was like manning an expedition ship and sailing into the Great Unknown, this time it was like a soccer match against our former selves: we wanted to make it bigger, better and more colorful than the first time.

Spirit of improvement: Right or left – my position

We knew what worked well last time and so we had a map to follow. But instead of following it slavishly in the spirit of “we always did it that way,“ we followed it in the spirit of improvement.

For example, the first time we had tested all layouts of the artifacts on the shelves beforehand. We had a rack similar to those in the exhibition set up in the storage area, so we could arrange the artifacts until they looked best. Investing in the time to do this during preparation reduces stress during the final installation process. In addition, it’s not important who does the final installation. The positions on the racks are clear, so anybody with experience in artifact handling can do it without taking time thinking about the perfect layout.

After the artifacts were arranged we gave them position numbers on the shelf. The first time we went with directions, so our packing lists looked like this:

Inventory number, object name, rack number, shelf number, left

While this had worked pretty well, we made some observations:

• Positioning with terms like left and right might seem clear on paper, but if you have team members who sometimes confuse left and right (like myself), mistakes in positioning are likely to happen.
• Left, middle and right work well if you only have three radios on the shelf. You can work with more artifacts by inventing terms like “outer left“ and “middle left.” This sounds charming, but impractical.

So we switched to using position numbers from 1 on up, numbering from left to right. Now our packing lists looked like this:

Inventory number, object name, rack number, shelf number, Pos. (for position number) 3

For the same reason we decided to take an additional step in preparation. The first time we had noted the positions on the shelf only in our data base. This time we took a picture of every shelf layout and wrote the position numbers on it. We attached the picture to every packing list. Now, whoever was positioning the artifacts during installation could use the picture as a reference.

This was only one example of the many things we improved during preparation.

A second loop of improvement

We all worked in “improvement mode“ during preparation and continued that way during installation. We ran into several things we could do better next time.

For example, after we attached the exhibit labels, we took down the inventory cards and collected them. The first time we had collected them all in a box and sorted them by inventory number so that they could be found pretty quickly once one had the inventory number.
Suddenly our student assistant said, “Wait a minute, wouldn’t it be better to collect and store them by rack and shelf number?“

We briefly discussed the idea, approved it, and in his honor named it “The Pakenis Maneuver.” From this moment on we collected the inventory cards in zip-lock bags, one for each shelf, with the rack number and shelf number written on them. When we take down the exhibition everybody can grab the bags of the rack she or he has to pack up and is equipped with the appropriate inventory cards.

Another example is the layout pictures. I described how we prepared them and it sounded pretty good to you, didn’t it? Yep, thought so. We were pretty proud of the idea. However, during preparation we realized that it was a good idea, but not the best.

We had a picture attached to every packing list, which wasn’t necessary. Most of the time we simply took the picture from the first box, put it on the shelf and used this picture as a reference. So, in the future we can skip the effort of printing out the picture and attaching it to the packing list. We will print all the pictures immediately before preparation and place them on the corresponding shelves. This will save some paper and ink, too.

Having the position numbers written on the pictures was of help but you had to skip between the picture and the packing list, because you had the inventory number on the artifact and the packing list, but not on the picture. This also led to confusion with similar-looking artifacts on the same shelf. Next time we will also write the inventory numbers on the picture.

The art of making mistakes

One thing we realized during preparation and installation was that we ran into mistakes we had already made the first time. Not wanting to admit mistakes is human. Making the same mistake twice is dumb. The main mistake we made last time was not making notes of what didn’t work. So we only improved the things we remembered, while we were forced to repeat the mistakes we forgot.

Being in “improvement mode“ we decided to do it better this time. Every time we realized something that could have been improved upon, someone said, “Stop. Make a note!“ And we did. It didn’t matter if we were standing on ladders, cleaning acrylic glass or attaching labels; someone always took a quick note of what we had realized.

Shortly after the exhibit opening we sat down, collected all our notes and discussed other things we remembered. We will collect them all in one paper, including the things that worked well and that we will definitely do again. This might serve as a reference for upcoming collections exhibitions and even if many of our suggestions are very specific, some might be helpful for other projects, too.

Our Score

On February 19 we opened “The Collection 2: The Electrical Household.”

If you have 3D glasses (red-cyan) you can follow our 3D virtual tour. If you haven’t, you may visit our picture gallery.

You may take a look at those two videos from German TV:

http://www.rnf.de/mediathek/kategorie/themenserien/technoseum-mannheim/#.UwoZBYUnYyM

http://www.swr.de/swr4/bw/nachrichten/rhein-neckar/technoseum-in-mannheim-ausstellung-der-ungewoehnlichen-haushaltsgeraete/-/id=258328/did=12909124/nid=258328/m1pgqm/index.html

I said we were like a soccer team playing against our former selves. So, what was the score?

• We showed more artifacts than the first time (1750 against 1639, but the first figure included about 300 archival items, while this exhibition was composed almost entirely of artifacts).
• We had a closer collaboration with our marketing department, resulting in more blog entries, a Christmas tree decorated with household appliances and a Tweetup (#Sammlung2).
• We looked into a greater number of artifact groups and therefore were able to set more data base entries straight.
• Both times, we were done with the basic installation a few days before opening, allowing us to improve some more things immediately.
• Let’s see if we can improve on the number of visitors to the first exhibition, which was 14,400 higher than expected.

But there’s no reason to stop here. When it comes to doing things better, there is no finish line. Next time our rallying cry will be again:

Go, get us!

P.S. During preparation we learned many things (such as: why check shelves before screwing acrylic glass to the front) so there is material for a few more stories on Registrar Trek. Stay tuned!

Like always brought from German English into correct English by Molly Hope.

Working with databases is one of the core responsibilities of a registrar. Often enough, one becomes upset with insufficiencies of the used system. You can imagine my excitement when I learned about the project of Michael Hesemann. He took the effort to develop a web database for his own field of interest, the foraminifera. Voluntarily, only out of enthusiasm for his field and collection. It provides quick access to all relevant information for scientists and collectors around the world. Now, even well-known institutions like the Smithonian and the Geological Survey Austria provide information about their collections of forams there. Read more about the development of this project.
Cheers!
Angela

written by Michael Hesemann, Foraminifera.eu Project, Hamburg

Project Development

In December 2007, I became interested in Foraminifera (aka forams)—not widely known single-cell organisms that have been building delicate internal shells for 540 million years. I was surprised to learn that up to 1/3 of the composition of the cliffs of Dover, Egyptian pyramids, and other examples of stone can be forams. Perhaps just as surprising is the fact that all living forams make up 1% of the earth’s biomass and are therefore more substantial than all mammals.

This is likely the first time you’re hearing about this, which suggests that basic information does not come to light without detailed study, review of the literature, and intense research. Fortunately, I met two foram enthusiasts in Hamburg, who, like Ernst Häkel was back in 1900, had long been interested in the beauty of forams and their rich variety of forms. We decided to photograph our collections and post them on the internet at www.foraminifera.eu.

Getting our images online, arduously taken through a microscope, went really well at first. But within a few weeks, Fabrizio contacted us, an Italian scientist offering to contribute 100 SEM (scanning electron microscope) images. Suddenly there were 250 images, which meant we had to sort them somehow and make them easily accessible. We realized we would need to develop a concept that could also accommodate 2500 images.

Or Own Database Concept Was Inevitable!

The concept of databases used by large museums, scientific institutions, and online databases like EOL or WoRMS turned out to be uni-dimensionally tailored to taxonomy and numbering. Don’t foraminifera have more information to offer? And what did we want from the collection as users? Considerable inconsistencies among datasets, a lack of illustrations, and clumsy interfaces seemed less than satisfactory.

Our Multidimensional Database Concept with Consistent Categories

Our philosophy is that a collection should make its objects easily accessible to everyone, from the absolute layman to the most highly specialized scientist. Every kind of object—in our case, foram shells—carries with it a variety of information. In a database, we’re limited to categories of information that apply to nearly any other object or can be researched with a reasonable amount of effort. For analysis, a high level of data consistency is essential.

With forams, consistent categories are taxonomy, morphology, locality, era (geologic), reference citations, dataset relevance, and collector information. Whether the habitat (ecological niche) can be consistently provided is debatable.

User-oriented Access

The user should be able to easily and reliably retrieve all available information by means of an easy-to-use interface. This necessitates the following:

• Each object must be represented by realistic illustrations (drawings, photos, 3D objects), and each of the defined fields must be populated (metadata)
• The interface must allow the user to conduct searches in every field
• The user must receive a list of search results that includes thumbnail images and essential information from which the user can drill down to more detailed information, including references

Technical and Financial Resources

Because this is not a commercial project, there are no financial resources. Contributions result from enthusiasm for the topic. All contributors cover the cost of their own contributions. All contributors are individually named and receive their own websites and the opportunity for evaluation of their contributions.

Regarding technical issues, only the most simple programs and systems are used: Excel, PHP, SQL, HTML, and a grassroots website hosted by a mass-provider.

A comprehensive collection of literature on forams, journal subscriptions, and good contacts with relevant scientists is available. Collection of sediments and forams are conducted, and detailed how-to’s and tools on processing samples are also available. No-cost access to a scanning electron microscope (SEM) is also available.

Milestones

Not necessarily planned this way, but looking back, this is how it happened:

2008
Development and promotion of the website; receipt of samples from amateur fossil collectors

2009
Further temporal and geographic coverage through 1200 images; creation of a support community of amateurs and junior scientists

2010
Introduction of the project to 400 scientists at the FORAMS2010 conference in Bonn; support from scientists; aid offered to amateurs and young scientists, particularly those in less-developed countries

2011
Expansion of database criteria to 20; conversion from pure HTML to PHP-SQL; support from senior scientists secured; presentations at international conferences; expansion to 4000 images

2012
Top ranking by Google (SEO; expansion of database criteria to 30; networking; receipt of image rights from publishers and institutions; expansion to 5500 images

2013
Permission to use c. 30,000 foram images (including those of numerous type specimens) from the Smithsonian Institute, the Austrian Federal Geological Agency, and the Brzybowski Foundation; permission from senior scientists to use their life’s works; expansion of the image database to 7700 images; cultivation of the support community; collaboration with WoRMS

2014
Project presentation at the FORAMS2014 conference in Chile; continued collaboration with WoRMS; image rights secured for remaining images; expansion of database to 10,000 images; cultivation of the support community

*)
EOL = Encyclopedia of Life, www.eol.org
WoRMS = World Register of Marine Species, www.marinespecies.org

Translated from German into English by Cindy Opitz.

This article is also available in Italian, translated by Marzia Loddo.

By Derek Swallow

Cascading crystal chandeliers, softly illuminating Beaux Arts wall murals with gilded foliated reliefs, border the massive ballroom: a breathtaking setting that one participant described as “the Versailles” of Chicago. This expansive, opulent hall in the historic Chicago Hilton Hotel, once hosting glamorous balls and formal receptions, now served as our conference room: a somewhat humbling setting, in contrast to the small, utilitarian offices in our home museums. It seemed an incongruous choice of venue at first. With reflection the sense of the location gelled in my mind.

The spacious room and dynamic decor metaphorically represented the energy, optimism, and breadth of the newly created ARCS organization and the glittering wealth of knowledge held by the 530 attendees from 28 countries. Selecting Chicago as host city was also ideal: a cultural center home to innovative world class public art and esteemed institutions such as the Art Institute of Chicago and the Field Museum, to name but two.

The three day conference offered 24 sessions with 60 presenters. The diverse topics appropriately reflected the broad scope of interests held by such a large and eclectic group of participants.I felt fortunate to participate in this important inaugural event and would like to personally thank all the organizers, presenters and particularly the founding benefactors whose generous support made it all possible. To enhance our comfort the sponsors provided participants with a cornucopia of delicious, waist-expanding food that sustained us through the information packing sessions.

For those unfamiliar with ARCS, the acronym stands for the Association of Registrars and Collections Specialists. Its mandate and mission:
“…to represent and promote Registrars and Collections Specialists, nationally and internationally, to educate them in the professional best practices of registration and collections care, and to facilitate communication and networking.”
http://www.arcsinfo.org/home
For the benefit of Reg Trek readers, in follow-up articles, I will synthesize the information from those sessions that I believe inform about topics of global interest to registrars, collections managers and other museum professionals. The first of these will explore the session entitled: Deaccessioning: Is there One Right Way? moderated by Devon Pyle-Vowles ARCS Board Member and Conference Chair with presentation by Dawn Roberts, Collections Manager at the Chicago Academy of Sciences, Peggy Notebaert Nature Museum; Elizabeth Varner, Executive Director of the National Art Museum of Sport; and Linda Wilhelm, Associate Registrar, Collections, The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston.

To end I’d like to return to the beginning: the formative era leading to the conception of ARCS. The roots for this organization run deep, starting with the appointment, in 1880, of the first US registrar tasked to manage the collections of the National Museum, Smithsonian Institution. Nearly 100 years lapsed before the next major step occurred. In 1977 the US registrars formed the Registrars Committee of the American Association of Museums (RC-AAM) followed two years later by the UK Registrars Group. Subsequent years saw registrar groups surfacing around the globe. “Best practices” and dialogue enhancement now tethered widely separated colleagues. The early 21st century witnessed an upsurge of international loans and the attendant need to develop global standards for transport, documentation, etc. To cultivate such standards an appropriate forum was required. The RC-AAM fabricated one by sponsoring four international registrar’s symposia, the first in New Orleans in 2004. At the last, in Houston in 2011, the renowned US registrar Jean Gilmore proposed the creation of a new organization to meet 21st century needs. After many months of intensive work the Association of Registrars and Collections Specialists materialized: an inclusive, yet highly focused group targeting the challenges of our profession in the new millennium.

“For the first time, registrars and collections specialists have stepped forward as a unified, independent, international group to provide programs and services directed especially to the collections worker.”
(History – Association of Registrars and Collections Specialists – Association of Registrars and Collections Specialists. http://www.arcsinfo.org/about/history).

This article is also available in Italian, translated by Marzia Loddo and in French, translated by Marine Martineau.

by Derek Swallow

”So what do you do for a living?” I’m asked. “I work as a museum collections registrar.” I reply, gazing on the now blank look of the asker. I continue, briefly describing my job duties: registering potential acquisitions, tracking the process through to the collections committee and ultimate accessioning. This usually draws the ego crippling words: “That sounds interesting” said in that particular pitch that translates to “what a deadly boring job.”

Barely controlling my irritation I refrain from spitting out the words: “I love my job. It’s really interesting. You really know nothing about it. So what the heck do you do that’s so wonderful – are you an astronaut or something?” Instead I take a deep breath, smile amiably and prepare for my crushing blow.

Turning slightly away, to show mild indifference, I softly roll out these charged words: “And I manage multi-million dollar loans, sending our priceless museum artefacts to exhibits around the globe.” A brief silence follows, the listener’s head turns, the facial expression transformed to one of amazement, then the response: “What a fascinating and important job you have!” The words “Got ya” drift through my mind. Then, I’m peppered with questions about these awe-inspiring loans. Fair enough, loans do have a certain cache. However, in reality they provoke a huge amount of very unromantic work, often have nearly unattainable time lines and can drive a teetotaler to the nearest pub.

I’m not saying I don’t enjoy loans work – I really do. But our acquisition work is underrated as an interesting component of our job. Without doubt, the process has mechanical aspects but few jobs in a museum open access to information spanning the entire spectrum of the collections. I’m privileged to know exactly what enters these collections, on a monthly basis, whether it augments our archival, modern history, ethnological or natural history holdings and how these records, objects, or specimens demonstrate relevance to the human and natural history of our province: intellectual candy for a life-long learner like myself. It’s a pleasure to play my small role in the acquisition of some notable objects – from the historically stellar, to ethnologically enlightening, to the bizarre and the beautiful.

Most often a registrar’s participation begins after a collection enters the door of the museum. A few years ago I had the good fortunate to assist one of our history curators retrieve the Douglas chair (see image) and other components of the Douglas collection; the curator needed an extra pair of hands considering the size of some of the objects. The donor was a relative of Sir James Douglas, a renowned historical political figure in British Columbia. Douglas founded the fur trade post Fort Victoria In the mid-19th century then later led the small population of European settlers when this west coast region attained British colonial status. During Douglas’ retirement, in 1871, the colony joined Canada as the 6th province: British Columbia. Not long after the union he suffered a heart attack. In 1877, Douglas died in his residence while seated at his chair.The chair remained a utilitarian object in the family. With original fabric worn out, the chair was reupholstered in the 1960/70s using a popular colour fabric and colour from that period – Danish Modern orange. Sir James Douglas, despite his auspicious career and elevated rank, was a practical man. I’m sure he would have approved of extending the service of the chair to over 140 years through such refurbishment.

For curators, collections managers and registrars the restored chair provokes an interesting question. Is it still authentic? To be authentic and worthy of museum collection must an object retain its original appearance or does it suffice that it need only retain its original function and association? In this case, it is still a chair, the very chair where James Douglas died whether it has original upholstery or not. Reviewing our museum’s collection policy, which guides what we do and do not collect, the Douglas chair fits into our collecting parameters: it has historical significance to the province of British Columbia, clear provenance, and meshes with our requirement for its “condition or completeness” The policy states: “Objects included in the collections of the RBCM [Royal BC Museum] will be complete, sound, and/or in original condition, where possible.” The phrase “where possible” permits us to collect objects of enormous historical significance, such as the Douglas chair, despite modifications made over time.

I stumbled upon this interesting link which I’d like to share with you. The author muses on the term “authenticity” within the heritage/museums context. She has some very interesting points. http://ejarchaeology.wordpress.com/2013/03/29/my-bike-the-authentic-object-with-its-own-biography/. I look forward to your comments on this subject. I would also be interesting to learn your museum’s particular guidelines regarding “authenticity”.

by Alana Cole-Faber

A few weeks ago, I took my four-year-old twins to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York to see the museum’s beautiful Neapolitan crèche. Of course, once we arrived we were easily distracted by mummies and temples and sculpture and barely made time for the crèche itself. While strolling through one of the European sculpture halls, my children became enthralled by Antonio Canova’s Perseus with the Head of Medusa. We had read the story of Perseus several times in the past, and this depiction of the hero was immediately recognizable to them. My daughter was pleased to see that Perseus was wearing a helmet, but my son was rather upset that he seemed to have forgotten a crucial gift from Athena: a reflective shield. While the twins were debating the accuracy of the sculpture, two men walked by. One said to the other, “Oh, hey, it’s a sculpture of that guy from that myth.” My daughter overheard and softly replied, “Perseus,” but the men did not hear her. The second man said, “Yeah, it’s that guy who killed Medusa. What was his name?” The men stood silently scratching their heads for a few moments. “Perseus,” my daughter said a little louder, but again she was ignored. “Perseus!” exclaimed the first man after a long pause, at which point my daughter turned to me and said, “I told him it was Perseus, but he didn’t listen to me.”

“He didn’t listen to me.” I could hear my daughter’s words in my head as I read the recent article about children in museums by Tiffany Jenkins entitled, “Children Should Be Seen and Not Heard.” The author asserts that museums have become too child-friendly in recent years and claims this is essentially a waste of funds, since she believes children are incapable of truly benefitting from the collections that museums offer. The article so severely critiques the inclusion of children in museums that it almost reads as satire. Almost.

Yes, children are often noisy in museums. Yes, sometimes they run when they should walk. Yes, sometimes they touch when they should not. However, children are brought to museums for their education, and this education includes more than simply who made what and when. Bringing children to museums teaches them that these institutions have value, that what is inside them has value, and that the people who work there have value. With the help of a committed docent, the children might even learn how to behave themselves in the galleries, but even if they do not, the seeds are nonetheless planted for future growth. Studies made by the National Endowment for the Arts indicate there are numerous benefits to involving children in the arts and that those benefits are especially significant for children from low-income families.

Ms. Jenkins’s assertion that museums have become too child-friendly is impossible to support. I have worked with and visited many museums in many different countries over the years. Not once have I ever believed that any museum was too child-centered. I recently visited the Smithsonian’s Air and Space Museum, which in the United States is a sort of museum mecca for little ones. Airplanes and rocket ships hang from the ceiling, and there are interactives and videos throughout the galleries. There are children everywhere, and plenty of things for them to touch and climb upon. If any museum might be accused of being overly geared towards children, this one might be it. Yet I noticed at each interactive, there were at least as many adults participating as children. Grandfathers pointed out famous aircraft to their small companions, and children asked repeatedly of their parents, “What does this say? What is that?” It was loud, sure, but there was learning taking place in every nook and cranny of those galleries by visitors of all ages. I have no doubt at least some of those children will be returning as adults, sharing their experience with their own children and grandchildren.

If our museums are not for children, then whom are they for? Are we not in this business to preserve art, culture, and history for future generations? For those of us who work behind-the-scenes with collections, it is easy to think of the work of enticing our youngest citizens into museums as something apart from us. At some point in our careers, most of us have said, “Oh, I’m not really a curator and/or educator.” But we who preserve the stuff are part of that educational mission, and it is in our best interest that it succeed. If we are not teaching our youngsters that what we do matters, that all of this old stuff we care for has value, then we are surely all out of a job when the next generation comes of age, and Ms. Jenkins will be without her “palace of knowledge” altogether. Next time we hear a noisy bunch of school children wandering through a museum gallery, perhaps we should be thankful someone cares enough to bring them. And then we can make sure they don’t touch anything they are not supposed to.

If you were waiting for the outcome of the Registrar’s Trilemma, wait one more week, we will reveal it on January 17.

by Derek R. Swallow
Registrar Royal BC Museum

Juggler, mediator, orchestrator, actuator, über¹ collections manager, yoga master, risk manager, project manager, customs broker, transport coordinator, preparator, inventory controller, diplomat, bureaucrat, legal associate, communication hub, document diva or divo, and shepherd: all terms describing museum collections registrar’s loans processing skills.

The purpose of this article is to enhance the understanding of the registrar’s role by linking the above core skills with job duties. These skills divide into four categories: mental predisposition; communication and organizational capacities; collections management skills; and documentation abilities.

Multi-tasking is a predisposition shared by “jugglers” and registrars. Simultaneously processing numerous loans, in varying stages of progress, with differing degrees of complexity, equates to the task of a juggler keeping a stream of airborne objects of various sizes and weights aloft without one dropping to the ground. Like a “yoga master” the mental disposition of the registrar is calm, in this case, under a stressful, heavy work load, and flexible transitioning from one loan to another, driven by ever changing loans processing priorities.

 

From the role of communicator emerges the ability as “mediator”. The registrar helps with issue resolution between loan team members and her/his institution and the borrower/lender’s. The tact required draws on the skill of a “diplomat”. To facilitate the flow of accurate information the registrar functions as “communication hub” becoming the one point of contact for the institution and a conduit channelling questions, answers and information from the borrower to the loans team and vice versa.

 
In the capacity of organizer the registrar focuses both on the broad picture, keeping the loan moving forward, while being mindful of the narrower picture, making sure no step is missed.

This likens to a “shepherd” keeping the flock together, herding it on, watchful so none of the group is lost in the journey. As “orchestrator” the registrar, like a conductor, guides the harmonious processing of the loan, cueing team members, or the borrower, when an action is required. The skill of “shepherd” and “orchestrator” support the function of registrar as “project manager”, assuring all steps are followed in the most time and labour efficient manner in order to meet all deadlines.

The registrar assumes the over-arching role of “über collections manager”. This is defined as: extensive collection management knowledge and experience encompassing all the collection types under the registrar’s purview. Supported by conservation staff and discipline specific collections managers, this ability assures application of the correct loan protocols and practices given the specific needs of any object loaned from any collection. As the loan is readied for transport the supplemental knowledge of “preparator“ enables the registrar, when needed, to oversee and enforce appropriate crating and packing methods for artefact transport and apply best practices to maximize protection of any loan item.

 
This relates to the responsibility of registrar as “transport coordinator” to only employ artefact carriers who use optimal safety measures and shipping techniques. Providing the best crating, packing and utilizing top museum quality transport translate to registrar as “risk manager”.

This role incorporates additional important elements including provisions that loan items are insured at correct current value; ascertaining that the borrower facility meets international standards for environment, structural integrity, inherent building security, human security presence, qualified collections staff, etc. As “actuator” the registrar initiates the acquisition of risk management related documents and information through requests for Certificates of Insurance, Facilities Reports, etc. Another component of risk management ties in with “inventory controller” where all loan items are accounted for when arriving or departing from an in or outgoing loan, and while on-site assigned accurate location codes.
 
Before a loan can leave the institution to cross the city, or country or move on to other nations the “legal associate” aspect of registrar surfaces. Legal documents such as loan agreements are created, and when needed, CITES or other permits, attained. Understanding the regulations and documentation related to export and imports aligns with the occupation of “customs broker”. The acquiring and safe keeping of all such important documents makes the registrar a “documenter” and “document diva or divo” and uncompromising adherence to precise standards requires her/him to be a good “bureaucrat.”

The skills described above are neither comprehensive nor exclusive to the role of registrar. Various combinations of these skills are shared by many professions. The entire “package” of skills, however, makes the role unique.

 
So are we masters of all the above skills? I’m certainly not. I have the required academic background solidified and tempered by on-the-job training and with greater experience I find comes greater ability. Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote: “The years teach much which the days never know.”

Despite my thirty plus year career encompassing collection management of Art, Ethnology, Modern History, Natural History collections along with duties as preparator, curator, preservation specialist, and registrar, I’m still learning new things and polishing these skills. For me, the years of practical, rather than academic, experience have been the best, and at times only, learning tool. I trained, for example, early in my career, as a preparator by working alongside a veteran in the field. I made many mistakes but these often resulted in the greatest learning opportunities. Mark Twain’s once said: “A man who carries a cat by its tail learns something he can learn in no other way.”

There is one salient skill not mentioned above. Perhaps it would be better called an obsession. We doggedly champion our institutional collection standards. We are programmed, in our profession as registrars, to adhere to elevated ethical principles and to propel our professional abilities to an ever higher level. This is a good thing. As Michelangelo is attributing to saying: “The greatest danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short, but in setting our aim too low and achieving our mark.”

This post is also available in Polish, translated by Natalia Ładyka, the translation originally appeared on the blog of the Polish Museum Registrar Association http://inwentaryzatorzy.blogspot.de/.

by Anne T. Lane

An exhibition may be conceived in a number of ways. Usually the idea is first, and the text and artifacts are brought together in support of the idea. Sometimes an artifact or group of artifacts embodies an idea, and the rest of the exhibit is built around them. Sometimes, in order to be bomb-proof or portable, an exhibition is done entirely with graphics, and it is images of the objects that support the idea. Whether the objects are part of the museum’s collection or are to be borrowed from another institution or individual, the collections department becomes part of the equation early in the process.

Choosing of candidates from among available objects is first a matter of research – into the database, into the holdings of potential lenders. A list of possibilities is given to collections staff who bring them out for the curator and exhibition designer to see. Each item is evaluated not only for suitability in telling the story, but for its condition and its vulnerability to the stresses of handling and light exposure. Sometimes mere size or weight are limiting factors, or whether or not the item can be protected from curious visitors who don’t recognize the damage their handling can cause.

Once choices are made, a series of steps is followed in order to prepare the items for exhibition. Condition reports are updated or written, and images made to support them. The exhibition designers must know sizes and lighting requirements in order to determine casework and placement, as well as the possible need for rotation of vulnerable items. Collections staff in turn must determine what mounts or supports to construct to ensure stability of each object. Both exhibition designers and collections staff must have a thorough knowledge of acceptable materials for a safe exhibition environment. This includes not only casework, mounts, and coatings, but also graphics substrates and inks, and adhesives.

Installation is always a joint project. In order for it to go smoothly, everyone has to know where and when each piece is to go in. Staff and volunteers work together to transport items from storage to the gallery, clearing the path and opening and closing doors as needed. Once any objects are in the gallery, someone has to be there at all times to keep unauthorized people from wandering in. Mounts and isolating material are placed, objects are installed, and then lighting levels must be adjusted. Exhibitions staff up on ladders, collections staff on the floor, work to aim and control light levels so the objects are clearly illuminated but not endangered by too much light. The comfort of the public must also be taken into account, as a brilliant light striking into a visitor’s eyes from across the gallery is a serious flaw. A last polish of plexi vitrines, and the opening can take place.

Even after an exhibition is buttoned up, exhibits and collections staff must check regularly that vitrines are clean, that nothing has been jarred out of place, that visitors haven’t found ways to handle or disturb the objects, and that light levels are properly maintained. Collections staff also inspect for evidence of pests. If anything is found to be awry, it is reported to the appropriate department and remedied with as little disturbance to the exhibition as possible.

This text is also available in French translated by Marine Martineau, in Russian translated by Arina Miteva and in Italian, translated by Silvia Telmon.

When I first saw pictures from the project “Skeletons in the Closet” by Klaus Pichler, I was overwhelmed. Somebody did something I and certainly many of my colleagues have often thought about: someone should take a picture of THAT. The beautiful and absurd compositions that appear when collections and everyday museum work meet. Cautiously, I asked the photographer from Vienna if we are allowed to post a text and some pictures from the project. The answer was really positive: Not only that this was no problem, he would also write a text about how it was like to work together with the registrars! Enjoy!

More than four years have passed since my first photo appointment for my photo series ‘Skeletons in the Closet’ in the non-public parts of the Natural History Museum in Vienna. Nevertheless, I can remember my first trip to the basements, depots and storage rooms of the museum like it was yesterday.

Some words on my personal history: I grew up on the countryside and whenever my family made a trip to Vienna I insisted in visiting the Natural History Museum. According to that, the fact that I, as a grown-up, was allowed to take pictures in the ‘private’ spaces of the museum has some kind of sentimental value.

Back to topic: the first visit to the backstage area was fascinating. Think of childhood memories of visits to exhibitions, think of the film ‘Night at the Museum’ or Noah’s Ark with its doors just opened. Animals next to animals, shoulder to shoulder, frozen in their actions, dead, but alive nevertheless. And, amidst of that: the registrars, who guided me through the taxidermied herds with great knowledge and were familiar with every corner of the giant storage facilities. Without them, I probably would still be in the basements of the museum, lost in the roomy corridors.

It is still vivid in my imagination, with how much anticipation they unlocked the doors of a room we have not been before, knowing which special sights were waiting behind the doors. I also remember how quick all my questions were answered by them, no matter how detailed my question were, and their enthusiasm about answering my questions. I often got the impression that the registrars had built up a very close relationship with the exhibits and were enjoying the time amidst their ‘family’, sometimes four levels below ground.

I was impressed by the registrars’ pride about a specific exhibit, for example a Blue Buck, which is extinct since a long time and only present as a handful of exhibits worldwide. Or the eagerness of some retired registrars who voluntarily spent their time with refurbishing the herbaria of the botanic department.

All I can say is that my whole photo series would only have half its size when not getting a thousand hints and suggestions from the registrars, where to search for special exhibits or where to find photogenic corners of the museum. And I am now using the opportunity of writing a text addressed to registrars to say a heartfelt ‘thank you!’ to the registrars who have guided me through my project.

Klaus Pichler

Book: ‘Skeletons in the Closet’, photos by Klaus Pichler, texts by Klaus Pichler, Julia Edthofer and Herbert Justnik, english edition, will be released on June 15 2013, limited to 750 copies (numberd by hand), hardcover, hardbound, 112 pages, 63 pictures. Price: € 30,- plus P & P. Can be ordered via the homepage of Klaus Pichler.

This post is also available in Zulu and Ndebele, translated by Phineas Chauke

What initially started “Registrar Trek: The Next Generation” was Fernando and me writing an article about registrar’s work. Without knowing from the other, coming from two different paths, in fact, from two different continents and backgrounds. Fernando published them side by side in the conversemos sobre section of the ILAM website. Now, we have taken again the opportunity to work on a topic from two different sides: Fernando on the registration of contemporary art, Bernd and me on the registration of technological objects. Two paths, one destination: to exchange thoughts and to inspire our colleagues.
Registering furniture and appliances: contemporary art (video-sculptures, multimedia, installations)
Fernando Almarza Rísquez

With the typical humor of a registrar we could introduce the amusing but serious working hypothesis that registering some contemporary art involves dealing with appliances and furniture. But actually, the artist’s talent has found new ways that transcend the search for originality and pleasure of modern art and modifies them into other, dynamic forms of sensitivity, communication and stimulation of the senses. So let’s reformulate the hypothesis: these artistic approaches are much more than furniture and appliances. Ergo, to register these works is much more than documenting furniture and appliances.
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Appliances, furniture and beyond – registering technological objects
Angela Kipp, Bernd Kießling

When you work as a registrar you often take for granted that you know what other registrars in other museums do. But when you talk to colleagues from different museum types you often realize that some things are similar and other things are very different. When Fernando told us he was preparing an article on the registration of contemporary art, we accepted the challenge to write one on the registration of technological objects. So, if you are into the arts: let us unfold to you the wonderland of technology. If you are into technology: Look over our shoulders and tell us if we forgot something important.
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