I saw this, too. The funny thing is, the clueless photographers don’t even realize that all they get back from the photo of the GLASS COVERED Mona Lisa is a big reflection of their own flash!
The strange thing to me was that many of these art works are among the justifiable prides of the French culture, and yet most of the people I saw caressing the marble statues were speaking French.
Well, I have some experience in this area, and there are several good reasons.
First, like Guin said, Plexiglas display cases aren’t cheap. While they may not be a bank breaker, if they can be avoided, that’s that much more money that can go into some other aspect of the museum.
Secondly, there is a movement going on in many museums to leave behind the static displays, and head towards more dynamic settings. Instead of just various artifacts behind glass, I find that it is much more interesting and more understandable when those items are placed in the context of each other, and their natural environment. For example, we had a mock out of a turn of the century general store that existed in the area until 1921.It was setup with the artifacts in situ, providing the patrons with a real, tangible, example of life in those times. I feel that this is impossible to effectively communicate with photographs, and single artifacts alone.
Third, if people can’t touch the artifacts, they will touch the next best thing, the Plexiglas. In high traffic museums with limited staffing, that glass will get dirty fast, and detract from the quality of the presentation for later patrons. If you are busy and unable to clean, it reflects poorly on the quality of the museum. Plus there is something special about seeing an artifact in the open, that is lost when you are looking at it from behind an inch of plastic.
The final problem is with the ropes. In essence, the ropes do nothing. No matter how far away you get them, people will always walk over them. You also have the added problem in many museums of very limited space. Where I work we essentially built a brand new museum from he ground up, and about two weeks after opening, we were running short on room. Moving those ropes back a foot or two may actually mean that that is one less display that you can put up, which is not a good thing.
Now, this isn’t to say that display cases are never used, or that ropes are worthless. They are a necessity, due in large to those patrons who feel that by sheer dint of paying the entry fee, they now own the museum. Unfortunate, but true.
Well, I have some experience in this area, and there are several good reasons.
First, like Guin said, Plexiglas display cases aren’t cheap. While they may not be a bank breaker, if they can be avoided, that’s that much more money that can go into some other aspect of the museum.
Secondly, there is a movement going on in many museums to leave behind the static displays, and head towards more dynamic settings. Instead of just various artifacts behind glass, I find that it is much more interesting and more understandable when those items are placed in the context of each other, and their natural environment. For example, we had a mock out of a turn of the century general store that existed in the area until 1921.It was setup with the artifacts in situ, providing the patrons with a real, tangible, example of life in those times. I feel that this is impossible to effectively communicate with photographs, and single artifacts alone.
Third, if people can’t touch the artifacts, they will touch the next best thing, the Plexiglas. In high traffic museums with limited staffing, that glass will get dirty fast, and detract from the quality of the presentation for later patrons. If you are busy and unable to clean, it reflects poorly on the quality of the museum. Plus there is something special about seeing an artifact in the open, that is lost when you are looking at it from behind an inch of plastic.
The final problem is with the ropes. In essence, the ropes do nothing. No matter how far away you get them, people will always walk over them. You also have the added problem in many museums of very limited space. Where I work we essentially built a brand new museum from he ground up, and about two weeks after opening, we were running short on room. Moving those ropes back a foot or two may actually mean that that is one less display that you can put up, which is not a good thing.
Now, this isn’t to say that display cases are never used, or that ropes are worthless. They are a necessity, due in large to those patrons who feel that by sheer dint of paying the entry fee, they now own the museum. Unfortunate, but true.
Well, I have some experience in this area, and there are several good reasons.
First, like Guin said, Plexiglas display cases aren’t cheap. While they may not be a bank breaker, if they can be avoided, that’s that much more money that can go into some other aspect of the museum.
Secondly, there is a movement going on in many museums to leave behind the static displays, and head towards more dynamic settings. Instead of just various artifacts behind glass, I find that it is much more interesting and more understandable when those items are placed in the context of each other, and their natural environment. For example, we had a mock out of a turn of the century general store that existed in the area until 1921.It was setup with the artifacts in situ, providing the patrons with a real, tangible, example of life in those times. I feel that this is impossible to effectively communicate with photographs, and single artifacts alone.
Third, if people can’t touch the artifacts, they will touch the next best thing, the Plexiglas. In high traffic museums with limited staffing, that glass will get dirty fast, and detract from the quality of the presentation for later patrons. If you are busy and unable to clean, it reflects poorly on the quality of the museum. Plus there is something special about seeing an artifact in the open, that is lost when you are looking at it from behind an inch of plastic.
The final problem is with the ropes. In essence, the ropes do nothing. No matter how far away you get them, people will always walk over them. You also have the added problem in many museums of very limited space. Where I work we essentially built a brand new museum from he ground up, and about two weeks after opening, we were running short on room. Moving those ropes back a foot or two may actually mean that that is one less display that you can put up, which is not a good thing.
Now, this isn’t to say that display cases are never used, or that ropes are worthless. They are a necessity, due in large to those patrons who feel that by sheer dint of paying the entry fee, they now own the museum. Unfortunate, but true.
I swear, as god as my witness, I only saw it go through the last time.
God, I’m an idiot…
I have a riding crop that I would be happy to send to you, Lissa. I’m out of commission for riding right now due to an accident, and I need a new one anyway. Want to borrow it? I’d be happy knowing it’s going to good use :D.
I’m horrified by this. I love museums, I love looking at artifacts, and I consider it a privilege, as I’m sure the majority of the public does. What the hell makes someone think that they are SO special that they can touch anything they want, even if there’s a big-ass sign saying DON’T TOUCH! on it?
Ava
Yes people don’t respect artefacts. That’s a fact.
This reminded me of something- when I was a kid we visited Scotland and we went to see Robbie Burns’s house, saw the bed where he was born and all of that.
We also saw a table that he had owned or his parents had owned or something, and it was completely covered in the carved graffiti of generations of visiting Scottish teenaged school kids :eek:
There was hardly any wood on the table top left, it was just ALEX LUVS SANDRA and IAN IS A WANKER etc etc…there was literally not a centimetre of unmarked wood…
Nice to know that those kids had such regard for their country’s heritage! By the time I saw it the people who ran the museum had finally roped it off…phrases about bolted horses and gates come to mind :rolleyes:
That made me very very sad. 
** Guin, ** I’d rather not say where I work. I try to keep my information as general as possible. I prefer to remain anonymous.
We * do * have signs. Hundreds of them. Many are actually * on * the item itself. That didn’t stop the man who I caught today trying to wrestle open a locked chest. Thank God the chest was actually designed to keep out theives. As roughly as he was pulling at it, if it had been more fragile, he would have busted it. I could hear him banging on it all the way across the museum.
After I stopped him, I pointed to the sign. “Oh,” he said. “I didn’t see that.” I don’t buy that for an instant. It’s a large white sign sitting on top of a black chest. Stevie Wonder would have seen it.
** Atrael ** said:
Frankly, you’re right. Very few artifacts can really be damaged by a flash camera, especially those tough enough to be displayed in sunlight.
Call it crass commercialism if you will, but that $5 gift shop picture you buy is essential to a lot of museums’ financial well-being. To put it bluntly, we’re as poor as church mice. Conservation supplies, staff, utility bills and numerous other expenses eat up donations and admissions very quickly. Often, gift shop sales are a very important source of income which a museum couldn’t do without.
**Emperor Penguin ** had some very good points. Cases are very expensive, and time consuming to install. Plus, seeing the artifact in its “natural” setting adds a layer to the museum experience.
Needless to say, the cases are a pain in the ass. People who would never touch an artifact are somehow lulled into a sense of comfort about touching the plexiglass. After every tour, if I have time, I rush in with the special plexiglass cleaner and wipe like mad to try to get them all before the next group comes in. Fingerprints and spit-flecks are sometimes hard to see if the cases are back-lit. I’ve been secretly embarassed at times when I thought I had gotten them all in my dash-and-wipe, and then see them while giving a tour.
During our rennovations, I’ve nearly been driven to the brink of insanity in trying to deal with the daily layer of dust which settles on the tops of the cases. I can clean the whole place from top to bottom, but by the next morning, the dust will be thick enough to write your name in it. Dusting in a museum, I might add, is different than dusting in your home. We have to be concerned about minute scratches, and dusting can be very tedious and time consuming. Add fingerprints on top of this, and I’m considering homicide.
I actually started a thread about the dust a few weeks back. It garnered no replies. I figured the sympathy folks felt for me was too deep to be expressed by words.
Little story of hope Lissa…there are people out there that understand your plight.
I was sitting in the LA county Museum of Art when a catholic school group came walking by, hands firmly in pockets, led by a Mother Superior bordering on classic stern nun. Large, scowling and a yardstick on hand.
As they came to an exhibit, the nun began a spiel on its history and I listened in, interested. Next to the painting they had another with a fat touristy couple approaching. It was a nude by someone and the male snickered a joke to his frumpy wife, which caused the nun to pause a little. She obviously heard something but continued on. I managed to watch the scene play out on the whole.
The male decided to punctuate his joke with the approach of a greasy finger towards the naughty bit of the painting.
Big mistake.
Like a ninja with a katana, the nun (not looking mind you!) swept that yardstick in a high arc and brought the flat end smack down on the finger, cracking it soundly. She never stopped talking and the kids must have known her actions as they never even flinched. The guy and the rest of us reacted with a startled glance and him a loud puppylike yelp as he nursed the hurt like he just dipped it in lava.
He turned quickly to say something but stopped without a word as the Nun stood there, continually talking but with a furrowed brow that read EXACTLY what she thought of him and his wandering fingers.
The guy clammed up and went the opposite way that the other group went.
A great scene…
Man, I wish I had a nun . . .
There aren’t enough shocked or angry smilies. The lumps and swirls of slapped on paint are an essential part of Van Gogh. The Philly Art Museum has some of his pieces and I’m always stunned at how poorly protected they are. No glass. No rope. The Guard is generally 10 to 20 feet away. This is no way to protect one of the greatest masterpieces in the history of the human race.
In Virginia (I forget where exactly) there's a statue of Pocahontas. The Disney abomination is a massive distortion of an actual event. Touching the arm that protects Smith is considered good luck. The rest of the statue is in good condition. That arm is pitted and pocked from all the touching.
In one of the rotundas of the Philly Museum is a bronze statue of a Rubinesque woman(ICR if it's actually by Rubin). I laugh every time I see it. The nipples are lack the natural patina that covers the rest of the statue. She stands on a pedestal several feet tall. Yet a man could stretch out, stand on tip toe and cop a feel. I've never seen a visitor do so. Judging by the amount of wear, it doesn't happen often. I suspect a security guard does it on his rounds.If it means anything, you have my sympathy. I remember fighting with dust on a daily basis. The only thing I hated more than the dusting was cleaning the animal tanks. Gah.
The fun thing about it in our museum was we had a children’s area in the downstairs galleries. They had a large sand pit to play in. Kids love to play in sand. They love to throw sand. They loved to throw sand onto the carpeted area right around the sand pit. Why was there carpeting there? Who knows. I guess it seemed like a good idea at the time. Everyday after work, I was out there with the shop vacuum, picking up a couple of kilos of sand, as that was the only thing that could manage it. The vacuum was good, but it was a general purpose vacuum for the museum. It stank, and it threw out a veritable cloud of dust. I would come in every morning and there would be a half centimeter of dust on everything. It was very annoying.
Ninja Nuns are cool. Little, tiny old ladies in black habits that would put the fear of God into you-literally.
People suck.
As far as coping, Eve’s suggestion of the psychodrama isn’t bad.
Maybe you can arrange to have an unoccupied tour guide or other staffer anonymously join your tour group for the first two minutes. You make a point of saying “no touching, no exceptions” at the beginning. Then, at the first exhibit, the ringer reaches out to touch. You stop, point, say, “Didn’t you hear me?” and make a gesture behind the group. A security guard (isn’t there always one hanging around the lobby? to which you should now be close, at the beginning of the tour) responds, grabs the ringer, and says, “You were told not to touch, you didn’t listen, you’re being escorted off the property, and no you don’t get a refund.” For extra fun, you can combine it with the pocket alarm idea.
Alternatively, maybe the first five minutes of the tour could be about not touching. Set aside a few square feet, and put up some pictures of damaged items. “We used to have this tapestry. It came from 1600-whatever. It took us nine years to get it, we were on two different waiting lists, it was irreplacable. Then somebody did this to it, as you can see in the picture. That’s why it’s not on the tour. You people don’t get to see it outside this photograph, because somebody else couldn’t be bothered not to mess with it.”
The statue of Pocahontas is on Jamestown Island I believe, ** DocCathode **. I’ve seen it.
/slight hijack
The glassmakers there are really neat to watch, and the glass itself is unique, you don’t see that exact shade of green anywhere else. Fact. One day I will own Jamestown Island glass, wheter it’s a vase, or just a few prized beads.
slight hijack/
Maybe you could arrange to show the damage that touching does as a prelude to a tour? Get some photos of damaged items, (preferably metal ones if you can) to show the visitors. Show them exactly what 1+1+1 ad infintum does (and emphasize that’s why you have special gloves). That’s how my sister-in-law justified herself, with my patronising brother backing her. “I’m the only one who touched it, and only one person isn’t going to harm it!” They shut up after I wondered aloud how many others said the exact same thing.
/slight hijack again
If any of you have to come to Kansas, the Cosmosphere in Hutchinson is a really great musuem. They have Russian space suits, the second Sputnik probe (don’t remember it’s name) they had built in case Sputnik failed, actual shuttles, and many other wonderous space artifacts. I’ll get you all a link so you can check it out. Kansas Cosmosphere
slight hijack again/
I, too, know the agony of sand.
About three years ago, our administrator went insane. I know he must have been mentally unsound at the time because no one in their right mind puts dark blue plush carpet in a high-traffic area.
Since the construction began, sand, dirt and itty-bitty rocks have coated it. The construction workers use that entrance, as well as the public. That carpet is my blood-enemy. I hate it with the firey passion of a thousand white-hot suns. One of these days, I’m going to sit down and calculate how many man-hours are put into keeping this carpet in at least a semi-presentable condition. The electricty to run the vaccuum itself could probably pay for part of the new roof.
We do have a rug in the doorway. Astonishingly enough, I have actually seen people step around it. I don’t have an explanation for this phenomenon. It seems to be a completely unconcious reflex to avoid this rug, though I can’t understand why. It’s not special in any way, nor does it appear to be. It’s the same kind of rug you see on any commercial-area floor before a doorway.
Were I a dedicated sociologist, I could find a lifetime’s worth of study within the doors of my museum.
Guys, while the idea of putting on a show to shock the tour groups into submission sounds wonderful, it’s an impossibility for us. Our staff is very small. If we’re not giving tours, cleaning the facility, we’re cleaning, numbering, documenting and storing artifacts, or doing research on a project. I do the jobs of three or four people. (Which I’m not complaining about, mind you. There are very few places in which I, technically a lowly docent, could get this kind of experience in all sorts of museum jobs. Add to this the fact that I deeply love and enjoy my work, and you have a happy camper.) There just isn’t enough people who can drop what they’re doing for that sort of thing, as fun as it sounds.
** Cervaise ** and ** Zabali_Clawbane, ** I do tell people the story of the Civil War sword eaten by fingerprints, and that of the lovely quilt we used to have on display that now has an ugly brown patch from all of the hands that admiringly stroked it. They shake their heads, say “What a shame!” and then grab the nearest item. . . . What? No, * their * hands are * clean.*
Perhaps we can order you an electric fence, and make a donation?
“Oooh, this is gorgeous, let me-AAAAHHH!!!”
I think it would be like that episode of the * Simpsons * in which Lisa performs a study with an electrified cupcake, entitled, “Is My Brother Smarter Than a Hamster?”
Whereas the hamster only needs to be shocked once in order to fear the “cruel hand of man,” Bart spends the next minute being shocked over and over reaching for the cupcake. “Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!”
I can see it now. “What a beautiful— OW! Look at this—Eeek! How old is this—AHHHHH!” People would be screaming constantly.
To end with another * Simpsons * quote, “Excuse me, but my microwave johnny cakes are done.”
I like it. Exhibit photos of ruined pieces(Pocahontas, St Peter’s foot etc) or actual ruined bits. The National Zoo has a large sign by the seal pond. It states that throwing coins in contaminates the water. The seals also eat them. Below the text is a very large full color picture of a seal undergoing surgery or autopsy. Its stomach is filled with pennies.
Chunks of ruined glass, metal, and wood might make an impression.
They might, if I hit the people with them. 