My father works at the US Air Force museum. He saw a visitor reach over and actually bang on one of the planes. Yeah mister, it’s real metal. Specifically, it’s aluminium which dents quite nicely. Then there’s the fun of having kids try to climb all over the planes. This is bad enough on World War Two relics, but picture the results on World War I fabric.
My father’s one advantage is that the museum sit on an actual Air Force base which mean that he can call the military police to come haul truly unruly visitors off. (And yeah, he’s had to do that in a few extreme cases. Don’t go to a museum drunk folks.)
We were in Charleston, SC, touring one of the plantation houses. My daughter was just a baby, and Ivylad was carrying her in her carrier.
The house was was unfurnished, but we were warned not to touch the walls or anything. At one point Ivylad set my daughter’s carrier on a window seat.
The guide had no problem embarrassing him in front of the whole group, by stopping her spiel and saying, “You need to take that off the window seat. As I explained before the tour started, the house is very old and we cannot touch anything but the floors.” Abashed, Ivylad moved my daughter off the window seat.
Now, granted, he wasn’t changing her diaper on top of a Louis XIV writing desk, and I think we didn’t quite understand the severity of DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING.
I think a little embarrasment is in order. After all, they are supposed to be adults. Are you allowed to throw people out? “I’m sorry, sir, that’s the second time I’ve had to explain to you about our No Touching Rule. You’re going to have to leave the tour.”
Lissa, I’m sorry you had such a bad day. I could possibly forgive a little infraction (like leaning too far over) once but shaking things twice - he should have been shaken.
Robot Arm, I commend you. I can’t say I know how hard it was not to touch (since I have never been in that situation - well, mabye the strip joints but the bouncers are always watching). I wish the world had more people like you.
Not really. I mean, I have the power to do so should they get violent, destructive, abusive, or I fear for my safety. I’ve never excersized that option.
(Well, sort of . . . I once called my curator to deal with a man who did not speak English who was wandering around the area unescorted.)
We walk a delicate line, being a small, community museum. It’s not a good idea to anger visitors if it can be helped. I have to tolerate some touching, and just hope that public embarassment will be enough to make them refrain in the future. For most folks, I only have to say it once. They’ll give me a sheepish look, apologize, and I’ll defuse the situation by smiling and saying I can’t keep my hands off the objects either . . . that’s why I got a job here! Usually, that’s the end of it, but too many people don’t listen.
When the new annex is open, we’re going to have electronic communication devices. All I’ll have to do is press a button, and my curator will “magically” appear. Again, I’ll only use it in the most eggregious of circumstances, and just bawl out those with itchy fingers.
Heh. I was at an art show once, and a self-important fat-cat ignored the “do not touch” sign on a piece of sculpture. It broke in two, right in his hands.
He turned around, hoping that no one had seen.
I had seen. I looked him right in the eye. We had one of those silent conversations, where, while not a word was said, much was expressed.
Him: Oh, crud.
Me: You lunkhead.
Him: You wouldn’t tell?
Me: You bet your ass I would.
Him: Oh, crud crud crud.
I stood by, silently judgemental, until an art show clerk came by and took the situation in hand. In the end, the poor lunkhead had to pay for the sculpture.
I have a story that is slightly off-topic, but amusing nonetheless. When I went with my family to Paris, we (naturally) visited the Louvre. In the galleries that display the furniture from various eras and palaces, the entire room “set” is displayed together, and areas where you’re not supposed to walk are marked with strips of what looks like crown molding, set back a good couple of meters. Well, as we were walking through one rather crowded gallery, another tourist, not paying attention, backed up to get a better angle for a photograph, right into my father. Not wanting to collide with him, my father quickly changed his direction, narrowly missing the tourist, but putting his foot down just over the molding of a smaller exhibit.
Security was on him in seconds. And the best part of the whole bit was watching my father (who spoke little French) attempt to explain what happened.
Of course, then you get the occasional person who intentionally sets off the alarm. I remember visiting one of the Smithsonian museums in '79 and one exhibit involved model trains behind plexiglass walls. Not thinking, I touched the top of one wall and heard a buzzer somewhere but I didn’t associate it with what I was doing. It took a couple of silent visits by a security guard for me to figure out I shouldn’t be touching the pleixglass.
I’m constantly flaberghasted by people’s arrogance when it comes to art exhibits. I was at the Uffizi about three weeks ago and they have the fancy schmancy alarms and all. People fucking ignored them! The alarm would be going off, indicating, “Hey, fucktard, you’re leaning too close! Get your arm out of the do-not-reach area!” And the people kept right on doing it. I stood there disgusted.
In the Louvre, as well, I just about had a fit watching all the people taking photographs of the Mona Lisa when there were clear and explicit signs not to do so. What made it worse was that the museum attendants weren’t doing shit about it. I mean, come on, people. Buy the damn postcard; that’s why it’s there.
I suggest you invest in a few child leashes. Then whenever you get a little terror, break out a leash and tell the parent/guardian, “If you don’t control that child, I will.”
Well, I intentionally set them off, but only because that was my job-to make sure they were working.
Lissa, what museum do you work at?
My jaw is dropping as I read this thread and I keep gasping in horror. Maybe you could put up some signs that say, “Look with your eyes-not with your hands!”
I once saw a pencil mark on a portrait, but as it was a new print that was just on some plaster new age type material, it wasn’t a big deal, but still, people are so crass.
You would think that those who visit museums would KNOW better!
If your museum has a children’s area (whether it’s a part of the actual museum where they can handle the exhibits, or just a play area to keep them from getting bored) you could always point and say, “if you want to be touching things, the children’s area’s right over there.” If you really wanted to embarrass the schmuck, you could point out the restroom as a place he can go to touch things.
Then I would further suggest a little lecture on Don’t Touch before the tour. Go into a little detail on the damage finger oils can do, and if the museum has to spend so much cleaning because people don’t obey the rules, it might have to close due to lack of funds. (True, not true, go ahead and scare them anyway.)
OK, don’t get me wrong, I agree with every post above and the OP, but I’m wondering: why doesn’t the museum make it more difficult to touch something if it doesn’t want people to touch it.
People are stupid and will touch stuff, so make it impossible for them to do so. either put up a big sheet of plexiglass or just move the ropes farther away from the item.
This thread reminds me of something I had forgotten about. While touring the Getty Museum when it was still in Santa Monica, we stopped to admire Van Gogh’s “Irises”, which were so haunting and beautiful that they brought tears to my eyes. We chatted with the security man standing guard over it, and he told us that just the week before, a woman had leaned forward and scratched at the “Irises” with her fingernail to see how the lumpy old paint would react. It reacted by falling off the painting in little chunks! Security was on her in an instant, but not quite quick enough to prevent her from doing this atrocity. Restoration people painstakingly replaced the tiny chips onto the painting, and “Irises” was assigned its own personal guard thereafter to prevent anyone getting close to it.
When I saw the thread title I thought for sure it was going to be about some crazy old lady complaining about some guests waltzing through her “Forbidden Room.”
You know, the room where the furniture is covered with plastic and the carpet has a plastic path rolled across it. And you’re certainly never allowed in there, because that would mess up the furniture. God forbid we should USE the fucking stuff. No, it’s “just for looking” furniture.
“I can never have anything nice!” is ringing in my ears right now.
Well, yes and no. While I agree that you should never touch anything, I do sometimes get upset at the “No photograph” rule. Especially when it applies to statuary. Since you mentioned that you were at the Uffizi, I assume that you have probably also visited Galleria dell’Accademia. I have a hard time understanding why my camera will damage a statue that stood outside for over a hundred years, then was stored in a leaky warehouse were it was covered with mold, before being placed in the museum. Especially when it’s a) under a skylight and b) surrounded by spot lights. This seems more like them wanting to sell me $5 pictures from the gift shop, than concern for the piece itself.
When I was ushering a show in college, we worked out a little playlet during intermission. We ushers were supposed to tell people not to bring food or drink into the theater, but they never listened. So we arranged each night for a different usher to come by as an audience member and try to sneak a Coke into the theater. The rest of the ushers would jump on him, pound him with our fists, berating him: “Who the hell do you think you are?! Didn’t we tell you not to try that?” and pick him up and give him the heave-ho.
