Inviting artists to become involved with the
presentation of objects is one example of this kind of
collaboration which has frequently proved fruitful.
There is a long history of artists interacting with
museum collections and the museum's mode of display has
many parallels with visual art, especially
installation. Artists' appropriation of the museum's
media - the plinth, the vitrine, the label - is matched
by an increasing practice of curatorial intervention in
the fabric and collections of the museum. Art is
primarily about ideas and deals with feelings,
impressions and personal perceptions far more than with
material objective facts. There is much that the museum
curator can learn from the artist about how humanity
perceives the world and many artists have the potential
to abstract from nature those parts which constitute a
more profound and lucid statement than the viewer might
be able to make. Artists use their senses and
communicate their perceptions to the viewer and need to
employ relative degrees of abstraction, using their
observations and instincts to convey the physical
senses of taste, smell or touch. Yet both language and
art symbolise such things so effectively that they can
elicit similar reactions to those evoked by the
original stimuli. Marcel Duchamp expanded the
traditional concept of the art object to include his
'ready-made' utilitarian objects like a urinal or a
shovel, yet people would not tend to view duplicate
objects with such aesthetic reverence unless they bear
his provenance. Yet the status of the 'ready-made' as a
museum object illustrates the balance created between
things and words, and art is a system of communication
which is historically linked to language as far back as
the earliest picture writing.
As we know some museum objects are becoming
over-burdened by lengthy captions that divert us away
from viewing them in actuality. Freedom from labels and
other contextual support allows for a more aesthetic
visual presentation, but most museum visitors find that
certain objects cannot really speak for themselves and
take little interest in their more abstract and
didactic potential. People tend to think that
artefacts, like art, cannot communicate anything unless
we have some explanation or practice in comprehending
them. While we still need to enhance exhibits to
provide given associations, there is great potential
for these to be simultaneously visually and
'informationally' thrilling, to harmonise with rather
than detract from the objects.
Museum labels offer a context within which the object
can be read. This context is limited, selective and
manipulative as it generally invites visitors to
perceive in a particular way. So, despite appearances,
once objects are acquired by a museum they do not enter
neutral ground and museums have the privileged
opportunity to shift and adjust their meaning,
maintaining an almost patronising belief in knowing
what is 'right' for the public. By their very nature,
museums suggest that objects can benefit from being
removed from their original context of ownership and
use. Their re-display in a different context can be
even more meaningful. Museum objects include very
personal things as well as art objects which are both
religiously charged and utilitarian. Away from their
original settings, rituals and use, explained in this
rather impersonal, apparently impartial manner, they
have a tendency to become 'dehumanised'. Viewed as
fragments of other times and other cultures, they can
become like curiosities made by unknown people who are
difficult to relate to because they are presented as
being so distant and different from us. This is often
accentuated when artefacts are systematically organised
and segregated to demonstrate aspects of cultural
difference and change rather than using the opportunity
for comparative study to illustrate similarities.
In order to study collections of objects, they need to
classified according to a given system rather than
arbitrarily arranged. Museums have their roots in
taxonomic object classification which works on a
botanical model. Traditionally descriptive metaphors
might refer to the birth, flowering, maturity, fading
or death of a culture. This is often quite
inappropriate and perhaps a system of metaphors drawn
from physical science might be better suited. Museums
also tend to adopt a linear rather than a cyclical
notion of time avoiding the illustration of parallel or
repeated cultural phenomena. Any artefact is actually
an emanation of past time, however fragmentary its
condition. Historians are engaged on a portrayal of
time; rather like astronomers, they collect ancient
signals and develop them into ideas.
Museums attempt to represent history and facilitate
people to imagine, visualise and even learn from the
past. Attempts to interpret the past via objects tend
to project onto the visual world of the past the
visual world of the present. Few people acknowledge
that vision is not passive but active, a transaction
between human beings and their environment in which
both participate to actively structure their visual
world. There is a continuing quest to bring the past
'alive' via museum objects by enhancing them with
multi-media, sound and even smell. However, it is
important to remember that we are forever excluded from
the full experience of the many sensory worlds of our
ancestors. Our present day picture of their world, like
the partially reconstructed museum artefact, will
always be incomplete and only an approximation of the
original.
Many museum visitors can be observed wasting the
opportunity of viewing the 'real' object directly with
their own eyes. Instead there is a tendency to spend
more time viewing and recording a secondary image of a
real object via a camera or miniaturised video monitor.
While this represents tourists' documentation of
personal proximity to a celebrated object, it also
displays our continuing familiarity and dependence on
the virtual image. As we are aware, virtual is having
the effect but not the form of the original. While the
internet liberates the historic object from the
protective custody of the museum, it can never
effectively replace the quality of the real thing. The
museum has the potential to stimulate the same
childlike excitement of being able to see in a real
physical space an object from the far distant past.
Objects are physical links between us and ancient
cultures and, even as a child, you can grasp at them in
the knowledge that they are real and not 'fantasy',
tangible proof of your human inheritance. In a cultural
sense, they offer physical proof of a past existence
only mentioned in a book or seen on a television or a
computer screen. Nevertheless, viewing museum objects
via the internet can offer a unique opportunity to
share, compare, contrast and to juxtapose new and old;
simultaneously in real time, it may also facilitate a
more complete, less narrow approach to scholarship. It
can also provide easy, 'comfortable' access for people
who work during museum opening hours or live in more
remote areas, bringing culture down to a personally
'controllable' and less daunting level. Like browsing
around a museum, surfing the internet offers the
possibilities for thought-provoking revelations from
unexpected discoveries.
It is a vital role of a museum to paint the larger
picture, to reveal the life behind the artefact, to
present the interpretation imaginatively and to provoke
the visitor's thought rather than simply instruct. One
of the most enjoyable features of a museum is the
opportunity to browse and explore its unknown territory
which offers ample opportunity for accidental,
spontaneous discovery and enlightenment. It is widely
assumed that the opportunity to gain knowledge is a
primary justification for displaying museum objects,
yet enlightenment has quite a different quality from
learning. Objects have the power to generate a stream
of thoughts, ideas and images that go way beyond their
initial beginnings. Therefore this particular quality
of 'knowledge' that museums facilitate is linked to
fantasy because it is only possible through a certain
degree of imagination.
Every aspect of an artefact's incorporation into a
collection needs considering which includes various
ideological, aesthetic and political elements. By
striving so hard to be impartial, museum curators tend
to exclude the rich possibilities of alternative
methods of interpretation. We need to recover some of
the spirit of endeavour and innovation that accompanied
the pioneering days of museums where there were perhaps
more possibilities for cross-disciplinary
interpretations. Within the confines of many
established systems of collection and study, the museum
object represents enormous unreleased potential, yet
the situation may change with the evolving
re-evaluation of the museum's role in society. Even
through a most cursory glance, an artefact can
represent the most private act of communion between
ourselves and an object that can lead to a unique means
of cultivating our inquisitiveness, providing that now
rare space for other-worldly reflection and
refreshment.
James Putnam
Department of Egyptology
The British Museum
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