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Watch out, Dan Brown

Obscure and Confused Ideas - Wed, 09/04/2013 - 20:21
A while ago, I wrote a book.  It has finally appeared; you can pick it up here or here.

A couple of things on the Amazon page for the book surprised me.  First, if you buy it from them and don't like it, you can trade it in for an Amazon gift card worth a whopping $0.75.  So really you can't lose.

Also, there are already 7 used copies you can buy... though the book only officially came out last week. (Strangely, one of the copies is over twice the price for a new copy.)  I don't understand the world of booksellers.


Forskning og livsløb – har kreativiteten en udløbsdato? Debatdag på Medicinsk Museion den 8. oktober.

Biomedicine on Display - Wed, 09/04/2013 - 14:35

Et af aldringsforskningens mere komplicerede emner er kompetence og kreativitet set i et livsperspektiv. Hvornår kan man “toppe” – og inden for hvad? Bibeholdes kreativiteten og energien til at tænke nyt gennem hele livet? Og hvad med udviklingen af modenhed og de egenskaber der beskrives med aldringens plusord?

Center for Sund Aldring afholder en debatdag om emnet:

Tirsdag 8. oktober 2013, kl. 9 – 17.
Medicinsk Museion, Bredgade 62, 1260 København K

Formålet med dagen er, at:

  • Formidle viden om fremherskende traditioner, opfattelser og holdninger til forskning, kreativitet og livskarriere – set i et kulturhistorisk og videnskabshistorisk perspektiv
  • Formidle psykologisk viden, om individuelle forskningspotentialer i livskarrieren, med fokus på krativitet
  • Diskutere eksisterende rammer for forskning, kreativitet og livskarriere, og
  • Diskutere muligheder for bedre sammenspil mellem unge og ældre forskeres aldersrelaterede kompetencer

Debatdagen er delt i en ’unkonference’ om formiddagen, hvor målgruppen er nuværende og kommende forskere inden og udenfor ældreforskningen, og andre fra Akademia med særlig interessere i forskerens livskarriere. Om eftermiddagen et symposium som er åbent for alle interesserede.

Program
09.00 – 12.00 Unconference
Moderator: Jesper Jørgensen

Formålet med ’unconferencen’ er, at skabe et uformelt møde mellem aktive forskere på tværs af fag med interesse i forskerens livskarriere og forskere med livserfaring fra videnskabeligt arbejde. Dette i et åbent forum hvor ideer og kommende projekter kan præsenteres og diskuteres, nye netværk udenfor den etablerede gerontologiske forskning kan opstå og som en perspektivering af eftermiddagens symposium. Eftermiddagens oplægsholdere inviteres som deltagere i unconferencen. Unconferencen er en open source symposiemodel som organiseres og styres af deltagerne selv, som et alternativ til det konventionelle symposium med forberedte præsentationer og modereret panel debat.

Ved tilmelding til unconferencen får kommende deltagere et link til hjemmeside hvor deltagerne kan uploade dokumenter, billeder, deltage i diskussion og forberede diskussioner på unconferencen.

12.00 – 13.00 Frokost for deltagere i unconferencen

13.00 – 17.00 Symposium
Moderator: Henning Kirk

13.00 – 13.05 Velkomst /Carsten Hendriksen, lektor, overlæge, dr. med. KU
13.05 – 13.30 Forsker- og livskarriere i historisk lys /Henning Kirk, aldringsforsker, dr.med.
13.30 – 13.55 Forskerens livsløb – den eksistentielle dimension. Refleksioner med udgangspunkt i nobelprismodtageren Ragnar Granits selvrefleksioner /Thomas Söderqvist, professor, dr.phil.KU
13.55 – 14.20 Kognition og forsker-livskarriere /Erik Lykke Mortensen, professor KU

14.20 – 14.40 Kaffe

14.40 – 15.05 Niels Bohr, forskning og kompleksitet /Finn Aaserud, Ph.D.,Niels Bohr Arkivet, KU
15.05 – 15.30 Ungdomsdyrkelse og aldersfascisme i Akademia/Jesper Jørgensen, ekstern lektor, RUC
15.30 – 15.55 Akademiske livsforløb: Udfordrede karriereveje i videnssamfundet /Bjarke Oxlund, ph.d., postdoc, KU
15.55 – 16.20 Organisation af forskning og forskere i et livsperspektiv /Christian Nissen, cand.scient. & phil. Adjungeret professor CBS
16.20 – 16.55 Paneldebat med oplægsholdere
16.55 – 17.00 Afslutning /Carsten Hendriksen

Registrering
Deltagelse i unconference og symposium er gratis. Deltagelse i begge afdelinger kræver forudgående tilmelding. Unkonferencen foregår på dansk/engelsk og symposiet på dansk.

Tilmeldingsfristen er 1. oktober kl. 12:00

Tilmeld dig unconference og/eller symposiet her.

Featured image: Ernst Mayr (1904-2005), one of the leading evolutionary biologists in the 20th century, published his last book (What Makes Biology Unique? Cambridge University Press, 2004) at the age of 99!

(courtesy: http://www.mrines.com/Miscellaneous/OdeDay/Lunch/Page1.htm)

Video: Pill Dress in the making

Biomedicine on Display - Tue, 09/03/2013 - 15:01

How do you create a larger-than-life dress out of pills? This short film shows artist Susie Freeman of Pharmacopoeia doing just that. Knitting on her old industrial machine, comparing pill fabrics, and putting them on the dress base.

Together with Dr. Liz Lee she has weaved a dress made of ten years of prescription pills for two women, one from Denmark, the other from the UK, with metabolic syndrome, i.e., the combination of, among other diseases, type-2 diabetes, hypertension, and obesity.

The artwork tries to visualize and provoke our understanding of life with this complex cluster of metabolic diseases, using the pill as a material trace and symbol of the immense impact such a diagnosis has on the everyday life of the patient.

From October 11th the finished artwork will on display in the entrance hall of Medical Museion.

Read more about Pharmacopoeia and the pill dress here.

Childproofing relationships

Electronic Museum - Sun, 09/01/2013 - 18:42

So this piece: Who comes first, your partner or your kids? did the rounds yesterday. Go read it if you haven’t then come back…

I was struck by the negative comments to the piece – and also the fact that people clearly seem to think this is an OUTRAGEOUS thing to say. Personally, I read it and thought “er, yeah, that’s absolutely right. Of course it is. How could you possibly argue otherwise..?”

Looking back at 8 years of parenting we’ve always (not with any particular grand plan) done three things that seem to fit what Marshall says:

1) always said a firm and absolute no (apart from moments of illness where it was absolutely necessary and those first few weeks of non-sleep hell when – frankly – anything goes) to having kids in our bed.

2) Had a solid evening / bedtime routine back to very early on which still maintains to this day – thereby giving us “adult time” after the youth are in bed. No pissing about with fussing “I don’t want to go to bed” kids, no “oo, go to bed when you want” (IMO: wishy-washy bollocks that confuses the fuck out of both adults and kids alike), but a known, solid time when The World is No Longer For The Children. I should say BTW that now ours are 8 and 6 we can adapt this bed-time should we fancy a family night at the boozer or whatever – and the boys are very happy now being out and about until late every so often – but it’s only IMO by having a routine that you can break it once in a while…

3) Always been very open in our affection for each other and – more importantly – our solidarity as a married, coherent, loving unit. We spend a lot of time being supportive of each other’s parenting rather than combatative – I think we both know how hard the other works both in work (money-earning) terms and in family work. (To see the opposite of how I think this works, try reading that bullshit article recently about money being the last taboo in a relationship – there you’ll find a childish, gnarly, nit-picky way of being in a relationship which is wholly NOT how this should go if you want stuff to last IMO..)

We have – I know – been pretty lucky. We’ve got kids who (now) sleep like logs every night. They don’t come and find us in the middle of the night. They don’t fuss about bed-time. I really – REALLY – feel for people who have problems with this stuff. But….I also believe that parents are quite often walked all over by their kids, and this can quickly become a vicious circle: needy kids that always get what they want (“I won’t eat vegetables! I won’t sleep!” – er, yeah you will if you’re hungry and tired enough…) end up taking and taking – usually at the expense of increasingly tired and increasingly unable-to-cope parents – who inevitably, obviously, end up giving the kids what they want. Getting kids to eat non-crap, or into a solid sleep routine, or liking reading, or not spending 24 hours a day looking at a screen or..whatever – is bastard hard work – but you persevere, and persevere and persevere. And eventually it works.

The main thing for me, though, is this: If your solid central unit of family – (in our, traditional case, the man and woman who started it all..) – falls apart, then so does everything else. You and your partner are the hub of the whole thing, the central bit that everything else revolves around. This doesn’t mean (OBVIOUSLY – I hope) that you don’t love your children more than anything on earth – but if you don’t give yourselves time to consolidate, be together, talk about what’s working and what isn’t, be intimate, drink wine – whatever – then it’s gonna break. This central relationship needs as much – probably more – help to maintain than the relationship with the kids.

Surely.

newsletter: month nineteen

Word's End: searching for the ineffable - Thu, 08/29/2013 - 20:52

Dear Nico,

Every month I sit down to write these missives to you, the thought of finishing one seems more ridiculous. A month is forever. Each month is fuller than the last. These snippets capture a few moments of your world… which may be appropriate, actually, since I only get glimpses of what’s really going on for you.

It’s wild to think about how little you’ll remember of your early life. These windmill-tilting newsletters are better than nothing.

You continue to insist on calling all cats “Aki,” all fans “tah,” and milk “mama”—despite knowing full well the correct words. You seem to actively enjoy having your own language that is nonetheless understood by others.

You’ve learned to blow your nose, which is a huge deal, because goodbye the hated nose-sucker and hello agency.

True to toddler form, you’re full of no. Control over your own body is super important: even if you got yourself into a clearly uncomfortable position while sleeping in the big bed, you’re damn well going to get yourself out of it. Any physical help is met by betrayed wailing. This gets tricky when you’re too sleepy to fix a situation yourself.

Luckily for the adults involved, you’re also full of yeah. It means that we can mostly trust the no. More importantly, I think, it means that you trust us to believe what you say. I hope this continues.

Another new discovery: the concept of dirty. The toilet is a potty, and it’s dirty, so you shouldn’t play with it. Toilet “training” is nearing—I have no investment in its timing, but it’s fascinating to watch interests get “turned on” more or less in the sequence that they do for billions of other humans. DNA is crazy. Socialization is crazy. Put them together, and why in the world didn’t I go into early childhood development? Humans are fascinating.

(Remind me to tell you why I did go into my field. It has to do with stories, and humans being fascinating.)

Favorite games these days include hide-and-seek, in which you hide inside a curtain; figuring out the connecting construction blocks; a couple of pretty great tablet games we’ve found; and books. I can’t possibly tell you how much I love that you love books, so instead I try to show you by always agreeing to read one (or three) whenever possible. Anything by Sandra Boynton is automatically the best, but you’ve been branching out.

One of your caretakers put a temporary tattoo of a butterfly on your arm a couple of weeks ago. It made a huge impression. You kept showing it to everyone: “TA-toh!” Now, every time you see a butterfly in a book, you get all excited: “TA-toh!”

Big feelings and tears all over the place, not always predictable, and sometimes inconsolable. On the other hand, you love belly buttons and find mine comforting.

“Adaa!” for “all done!” is pretty freakin’ adorable.

You totally give kisses. To me, to other people, to stuffed toys. To books.

We have impromptu dance parties.

Onward.

Love,
-Mama

p.s. Pix as usual, and three new videos.

Guest Post: Weaving Community Collaborations into Permanent Installations at the Denver Art Museum

Museum 2.0 - Wed, 08/28/2013 - 07:00
Earlier in 2013, I was amazed to visit one of the new “Studio” spaces at the Denver Art Museum. The DAM is one of several large art museums that is embracing making in a big way—first, through their event-based programming and open art studios tied to temporary exhibitions, and now, through a 1,200 square foot studio in which visitors can do art projects tied to the permanent collection. In this guest post, Stefania Van Dyke, Master Teacher for Textile Art and Special Projects, tells the story of how the co-creative development and visitor participation in the “Thread Studio” that accompanied their 2013 summer exhibition, Spun, changed her perspective on her own work.
The Denver Art Museum is no stranger to community collaborations, but we’ve been dipping in our toe a little more deeply when it comes to developing permanent participatory installations. This summer’s Museum-wide celebration of textiles, Spun, consists of fourteen exhibitions and “moments” (most temporary, some permanent). Part of our approach to community involvement in planning Spun had to do with necessity; we needed help to pull this off. More important to the Museum’s long-term goals, it was an opportunity to engage creative locals in conceptualizing, programming, and installing in a significant way. As an educator, I know that lessons learned and questions raised from this experience will substantively shift how I think about and act upon our relationship with our local creative community moving forward.
I came on staff in December as the Master Teacher for Textile Art and Special Projects with the immediate task of developing a permanent studio—DAM’s term for an exploratory and interactive space—in conjunction with the reinstallation of our textile art collection (the main impetus for Spun). Once we had the basic components and goals for “Thread Studio,” my first instinct was to call upon friends on staff at other museums for feedback and insights. But my DAM colleagues encouraged me also to talk with community members who are intimately involved in the world of fiber and textiles. I soon discovered the enormity of that group: there are dozens of guilds in Colorado dedicated to quilting alone. Who are all of these people? What inspires them? Once we started the conversation, the outpouring of excitement was remarkable.
My colleague Djamila Ricciardi and I shared our concepts for the various components of the studio. Community artists gave their honest feedback, and we crafted a display based on these discussions and their contributions. More than 160 contributors, ranging from nationally known artists to hobbyist crafters, sent us samples, tools, and heirlooms that almost completely populated the 80 cubbies in our dense curio-cabinet-style display. Prompted by our simple questions (“Have you ever made a quilt out of particularly meaningful materials?”), they created pieces imbued with stories—like Amy Gibson, the mother of four who designed and made a quilt block out of parachute material her grandfather brought home from France after serving in World War II. Some community artists even helped install the space. Visitors Going Rogue We collaborated formally with community artists to design Thread Studio; once it opened, the participation expanded to museum visitors. Thread Studio contains two embroidery tables with designs printed on burlap and instructions for stitching, as well as a variety of looms on the wall on which visitors can weave with unconventional materials like jump ropes, vines, and bungee cords. Since the studio opened in May, visitors have left their marks there in the most awesome of ways. They’re tagging with yarn.
Now that we’re a few months in, we’re seeing visitors’ confidence and creativity grow. They’re not only contributing in unique ways to the pieces we’ve offered them formally, but they’re also going rogue. Someone expressed her (his? More men are participating than I anticipated) appreciation of the space by leaving a small hand-made lace heart on a chair. Another visitor yarn-bombed the tether on our remote control. Others are coming in to do spontaneous demos in the space. They’re gathering in groups:  in June, visitors stumbled upon members of the Rocky Mountain Lace Guild making both small talk and lace. And I recently got word of a spinning flash mob in the works, with dozens of spinners planning to pull out their wheels and spindles to show their stuff at the Museum. Sustaining Collaborative Momentum Now comes perhaps the biggest challenge: How can I, with help from my colleagues, sustain this organic enthusiasm and burst of creativity, as well as these relationships? Looking back at my team’s original goals for the Thread Studio, none of them mention it becoming an ongoing hub of community activity. I didn’t realize it when I started on this project last fall, but that idea has truly permeated everything we’ve done. Our primary goal was to inspire visitors’ own creativity—which we’re seeing in these traces they’re leaving behind and overhearing in visitors’ discussions in and around the space.
But what role does the initial community participation play for general visitors who may or may not care about textiles? Does it matter? Why is community involvement in a permanent installation important to us as museum professionals? What exactly about this space is inspiring visitors and how can we apply these lessons to other collection areas beyond textiles?
I’m spending the summer reflecting and trying to get a handle on these questions and their answers, trying to harness the momentum that we’re experiencing and to learn from it. DAM staff has been talking a lot lately about being seen as—or actually being—a contributing part of the local “creative ecosystem.” I recognize that we’ve started heading in that direction with Thread Studio and don’t want to lose it. As someone who has only ever worked on more traditional exhibitions of capital-A-art, this has been a challenging and unpredictable project. I did not enter this project thinking about the importance of co-creating a permanent space with our community, but now that I’ve seen it through this way, my work will never be the same.
Stefania will respond to your comments and questions here.

Historians and Books

edwired - Mon, 08/26/2013 - 20:00

“History has been and remains a book-based discipline…” This phrase, that begins the third paragraph of the recent statement by the American Historical Association on dissertation embargoes, has been rattling around in my head for weeks, like that annoying song from high school you just can’t get out of your head.

If you followed the controversy that ensued after the AHA issued this statement [search on "#ahagate" for more], you know that much of the often heated discussion centered on two issues: was it a bad idea for recent PhDs to embargoe their dissertations, and what did the AHA’s position on the issue say about the Association’s position on open access more generally?

Both of those topics have now been pretty well beaten to death in the blogo- and twittersphere, so I’ve been at a loss to explain why that phrase won’t get the heck out of my head. Fortunately, I’m teaching my Clio Wired grad seminar, starting tonight, so I had to focus hard on all things digital history over the past couple of weeks and in that focusing I finally figured out what my problem was. (I know you’re relieved.)

You see, regardless of what we might think about open access, or dissertation embargoes, or any of the other issues that came up in the ahagate conversation this summer, if we accept that history has been and remains a book-based discipline, then we are accepting that the book is the standard by which historians should be judged for such things as jobs, promotion, tenure, raises, etc. For our professional association to make such a bold defense of the book as the gold standard is more than just counter productive, it’s really out of touch with the realities of the history job market our MA and PhD grads find themselves in.

Don’t get me wrong. I love books. Really love books. Don’t believe me? Come to my office and take a gander at the overflowing shelves. But my bookophilia doesn’t extend to my definition of what it means to be a historian in 2013. And, yes, I know the AHA doesn’t ignore the fact that lots of historians do lots of things that never involve publishing a book or even a peer reviewed article. But still.

“History has been and remains a book-based discipline…” Saying this so directly is to take a position that the book is the goal, the standard by which historians are to be measured. If that is so, those historians who choose to build their careers around museum curation, or website development, or public history, or any number of “altac” career paths just don’t quite measure up to the book (gold) standard promoted by our professional association.

And that just makes me sad. Sad for everyone who is a historian and never publishes a book and so is somehow not quite up to snuff, and sad for the AHA, because, well, emphasizing the bookishness of our discipline is just so 1990.

Video recorded talks from the event “The Data Body on The Dissection Table” now online!

Biomedicine on Display - Sat, 08/24/2013 - 17:38

’The Data Body on the Dissection Table’ took place at Medical Museion on June 4th. The video recordings of the event talks are now online! See links below.

The collection of body data is a growing field. How do we grab hold of this data? How do we make sense of it and communicate it to others? See and hear Professor Albert-László Barabási, Professor and Artist François-Joseph Lapointe, Associate Professor Annamaria Carusi, and Artist and Research Director Jamie Allen talk about how contemporary artists and designers give our ‘data body’ material form through images, sound, and touch. What kind of tools are complex networks science proposing, and what kind of body do they reveal?

‘The Data Body on the Dissection Table’ was co-organised by Medical Museion and Leonardo/OLATS

Click here to read more about the event.

 

 

The video talks:

Metagenomic Art: A Family Portrait by Professor and Artist François-Joseph Lapointe

Getting Hold of the Digital Patient by Associate Professor Annamaria Carusi

Networkology, Thinking in Network Terms by Professor Albert-László Barabási

Our Data Doppelgängers. What creative practice with and from data reflects and reveals by Artist and Research Director Jamie Allen

 

Click here for video overview

No Holds Barred

Found History - Thu, 08/22/2013 - 19:14

About six months ago, I was asked by the executive director of a prestigious but somewhat hidebound—I guess “venerable” would be the word—cultural heritage institution to join the next meeting of the board and provide an assessment of the organization’s digital programs. I was told not to pull any punches. This is what I said.

  1. You don’t have a mobile strategy. This is by far your most pressing need. According to the Pew Internet and American Life Project, already more than 45% of Americans own a smartphone. That number rises to 66% among 18-29 year olds and 68% among families with incomes of more than $75,000. These are people on the go. You are in the travel and tourism business. If you are only reaching these people when they’re at their desks at work—as opposed to in their cars, on their lunch breaks, while they’re chasing the kids around on Saturday morning—you aren’t reaching them in a way that will translate into visits. This isn’t something for the future. Unfortunately, it’s something for two years ago.
  2. You don’t have an integrated social strategy. I could critique your website, and of course it needs work. But a redesign is a relatively straightforward thing these days. The more important thing to realize is that you shouldn’t expect more than a fraction of your digital audience these to interact directly with your website. Rather, most potential audience members will want to interact with you and your content on their chosen turf, and these days that means Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Tumblr, and Wikipedia, depending on the demographic. You have to be ready to go all in with social media and dedicate at least as much thought and resources to your social media presence as to your web presence.
  3. Your current set of researcher tools and resources aren’t well-matched to what we know about researcher needs and expectations. Ithaka Research, a respected think tank that studies higher education and the humanities, recently released a report entitled “Supporting the Changing Research Practices of Historians” (I’d encourage everyone here to give it a good read; it has a ton of recommendations for organizations like this one grappling with the changing information landscape as it relates to history). One of its key findings is that Google is now firmly established as researchers’ first (and sometimes last) stop for research. Lament all you want, but it means that if you want to serve researchers better, your best bet isn’t to make your own online catalog better but instead to make sure your stuff shows up in Google. As the Library of Congress’s Trevor Owens puts it: “the next time someone tells you that they want to make a ‘gateway’ a ‘portal’ or a ‘registry’ of some set of historical materials you can probably stop reading. It already exists and it’s Google.” This speaks to a more general point, which is related closely to my previous point. Researchers come to your collection with a set of digital research practices and tools that they want to use, first and foremost among these being Google. Increasingly, researchers are looking to interact with your collections outside of your website. They are looking to pull collection items into personal reference management tools like Zotero. More sophisticated digital researchers are looking for ways to dump large data sets into an Excel spreadsheet for manipulation, analysis, and presentation. The most sophisticated digital historians are looking for direct connections to your database through open APIs. The lesson here is that whatever resources you have to dedicate to online research collections should go towards minimizing the time people spend on your website. We tend to evaluate the success of our web pages with metrics like numbers of page views, time spent per page, and bounce rate. But when it comes to search the metrics are reversed: We don’t want people looking at lots of pages or spending a lot of time on our websites. We want our research infrastructure to be essentially invisible, or at least to be visible for only a very short period of time. What we really want with search is to allow researchers to get in and get out as quickly as possible with just what they were looking for.
  4. You aren’t making good use of the organization’s most valuable—and I mean that in terms of its share of the annual budget—resource: its staff expertise. Few things are certain when it comes to Internet strategy. The Internet is an incredibly complex ecosystem, and it changes extremely quickly. What works for one project or organization may not work for another organization six months from now. However, one ironclad rule of the Internet is content drives traffic. Fresh, substantive content improves page rank, raises social media visibility, and brings people to the website. Your website should be changing and growing every day. The way to do that is to allow and encourage (even insist) that every staff member, down to the interns and docents, contribute something to the website. Everybody here should be blogging. Everyone should be experimenting. The web is the perfect platform for letting staff experiment: the web allows us to FAIL QUICKLY.
  5. You aren’t going to make any money. Digital is not a revenue center, it’s an operating cost like the reading room, or the permanent galleries, or the education department. You shouldn’t expect increased revenues from a website redesign any more than you should from a new coat of paint for the front door. But just like the reading room, the education programs, and the fresh coat of paint, digital media is vital to the organization’s mission in the 21st century. There are grants for special programs and possibly for initial capital expenditures (start-up costs), but on the whole, cultural organizations should consider digital as a cost of doing business. This means reconfiguring existing resources to meet the digital challenge. One important thing to remember about digital work is that its costs are almost entirely human (these days the necessary technology, software, equipment, bandwidth is cheap and getting cheaper). That means organizations should be able to afford a healthy digital strategy if they begin thinking about digital work as an integral part of the duties of existing staff in the ways I described earlier. You probably need a head of digital programs and possibly a technical assistant, but beyond that, you can achieve great success through rethinking/retraining existing human resources.

I’m happy to say that, aside from a few chilly looks (mainly from the staff members, rather than the board members, in the room), my no-holds-barred advice was graciously received. Time will tell if it was well received.

Museum 2.0 Rerun: The Magic Vest Phenomenon and Other Tools for Talking to Strangers

Museum 2.0 - Wed, 08/21/2013 - 07:00
This August/September, I am "rerunning" popular Museum 2.0 blog posts from the past. This post was requested by a long-time reader. Every time one of my staff members dons his or her cape for a program (really), I'm reminded of this post. Originally posted in February of 2009.

I've been thinking recently about how I originally got interested in talking to strangers in museums. I am not a person who is fundamentally good at talking to strangers. I love playing host to friends, but I clam up in big crowds, never go to happy hour, and don't know how to flirt. Working in museums as floor staff cracked open the social stranger door for me. My first museum job was working on the floor at the Acton Science Discovery Museum in Massachusetts. Like floor staff everywhere, I wore a vest that identified me as a staff person. It was blue. It was polyester. And It was a magic vest.

What made it magic? When I slipped on the vest, I was suddenly identified as someone who was safe for strangers to talk to. I could approach a kid and ask him a question or put a tuning fork to her elbow without any parents getting suspicious. I could jump in with a perplexed family and help them make the pendulum work. I was sought out and could initiate conversations. I could even tell dumb jokes or get people to sing songs about science with me. Magic.

Some days, I'd leave the museum to go grocery shopping, and I'd forget that I'd taken off my magic vest. I'd ask people questions in the produce aisle, bend down to talk to a small kid about what she was having for dinner. Sometimes this worked out, but more often, I was perceived as an intruder. Without the vest, I wasn't able to engage in the way that worked for me at the museum, and I didn't have any fall-back way to connect with strangers. So I stopped trying.

Over the years, I've learned to put on an imaginary magic vest when I go to museums, and I've gotten more comfortable starting conversations without it. But the physical vest is still better. When I told this story to a friend of mine who's a fire fighter, he immediately agreed--he feels like his uniform is also a magic social object. In uniform, he's someone who is perceived as a helpful source of information and a safe and enjoyable person to talk with. Out of uniform, he's just another guy on the street.

Of course, there's no single social object that projects a universal message of openness and willingness to engage. A person in a cop uniform may be inviting to some, threatening to others. I think of my dog as an amazing social object, but I'm also aware that for some people, dogs are scary creatures to be avoided. Every piece of apparel or physical extension of oneself invites others to pass judgment. The trick is to find the things that encourage others to judge you as welcoming and worthy of positive interaction.

I wouldn't be the person I am today, one who is genuinely interested in others' opinions and jumps into participatory museum experiences, if not for my time on the museum floor in the magic vest. I believe that everyone deserves to have a magic vest experience, and that for socially inept people like myself, having an opt-in way to signal your interest in interpersonal communication can be a great social tool to mediate the experience. There are some safety concerns--we wouldn't want people impersonating fire fighters--but there should be some "magic vests" that come laden with positive interest and intent rather than authority. Many science museums offer kids lab coats to wear during programs, which affects their self-perception and modes of expression. What if we offered all visitors coats, vests, hats, etc. to express their interest in engaging in particular ways? I've written before about the idea of offering visitors stickers or buttons that say "ASK ME WHAT I THINK" so they can have their own social experiences facilitated by apparel, and I'm looking for more options.

Why does talking to strangers matter? Every time I do it, it improves my ability to empathize and understand other people. It brings surprising and delightful experiences into my life. My default is to feel phenomenally lonely in large social venues like museums and conferences. Finding the right tools to enable social engagement lets me leave my own shell and connect with and enjoy the rest of the world.

I'm curious what "magic vest" experiences you've had--whether in museums or elsewhere--and how you think wearable social objects fit into participatory experiences with strangers. What's your magic vest? Where do you wear it, and what superpower does it have?

The assembly of objects – the Kuleshov Effect in exhibitions

Biomedicine on Display - Tue, 08/20/2013 - 08:44

I am currently in the process of formulating some thoughts on objects in collections (read more here and here) which I hope will coalesce into a proposal for an object-oriented exhibition.  While thinking and reading about what happens when objects are put in exhibitions, I came across a useful concept from film theory: The Kuleshov Effect.

The Kuleshov Effect is a well-documented and often referenced concept in film-making, accredited to the Soviet film editor Lev Kuleshov. During the 1920s Kuleshov made a film showing an actor, edited together with a plate of soup, a dead woman, and a woman on a recliner. Supposedly, audiences would praise the acting, noting the subtle and minute shifts in the actor’s expressions showing hunger, grief, or lust. In reality, Kuleshov re-used the same clip of the expressionless actor – the effects were created entirely by the juxtaposition of images. This is what the footage looked like:

Here is Alfred Hitchcock explaining the effect, interestingly referring to it as ‘pure cinematics, the assembly of film’:

Kuleshov had laid the ground for Soviet montage cinema, which culminated most famously in Sergei Eisenstein’s The Battleship Potemkin (watch it here, it still carries a visual punch few movies can match – and his careful attention to objects makes it essential viewing for exhibition designers, me thinks). The Kuleshov Effect speaks to the fundamental inseparability of experience and the importance of context, not just in film making where meanings are created out of the editing of images but also in exhibitions where something similar happens with the placement of objects.

Good exhibition design capitalizes on the potential effects objects have on each other. This cannot be parsed out and made into a formula for successful object placement, rather it is a matter of sensibility towards the effects of objects that develops by looking at a lot of objects and thinking about them as objects, and not just as tools with which to lay out whatever story you have in mind. Good object placement brings the objects to our attention in unexpected ways, inviting both presence and meaning responses – we feel something when we look at the juxtaposed objects and that affective response makes us want to delve deeper into what is happening in the specific situation.

The worst kinds of exhibitions to me are those that display no sensibility towards the complex potential effects of objects. This most often happens when all the energy is put into an overarching representational frame which drowns out the objects, making them lifeless props for a story already in place. It also happens when objects are displayed without thought to their effects on one another and their juxtaposition in the display space – often they are laid out on flat surfaces inviting a flattened viewing, their liveliness sucked out of them.

What I would like for an object-oriented exhibition to do is to bring the complex and myriad ways in which we experience objects to the surface – sure, there are plenty of stories in things but there are also multitudes of things in stories, and they exert their own gravitational pressures and pulls on them. Displaying the lively qualities of objects is a way to bring those pressures and pulls into the exhibition space. Paraphrasing Hitchcock, something that builds upon a ‘pure exhibition making, the assembly of objects’.

Pharmacopoeia Pill Dress -coming soon

Biomedicine on Display - Mon, 08/19/2013 - 11:28

However outré, none of the brands at this month’s fashion fair have what we will have soon: A dress made entirely out of pills woven into fine, black fabric. Spectacular and (thought) provoking, the art work tries to visualize the cluster of metabolic diseases such as diabetes and cardiovascular conditions (often referred to as ‘metabolic syndrome’), as well as related complications like depression and pain, that is one of the great health problems of our time.

In the art work, the 10 year medical records of two women living with chronic metabolic diseases, come together to form one larger-than-life pill dress. When the summer was at its hottest, Bente and I went to London to talk to the two women behind the dress: Dr. Liz Lee and artist Susie Freeman of Pharmacopoeia.

At her consultation in Bristol, Liz introduced us to her patient Jaz, who has ‘donated’ her medical record to form part of the basis for the artwork. The discussion quickly became very open and personal. Because these metabolic diseases are both dependent on genetic predispositions as well as personal life style, any one of us who have had diabetes in the family or are a little bigger around the waist (not even a lot, < 80 cm. for women) might be at risk. This is why it is so important to raise awareness about in a non-didactic, personal and visual way, and that is just what art can do.

Next day we went to Susie’s lovely but sizzling hot Notting Hill studio. Dominating the room was the huge, black dress base, not yet covered in its pill fabric. Susie demonstrated her beautiful old industrial loom, which she has readjusted to knit fabric with build-in pockets for the thousands of little pills. She showed us sketches and fabric samples with different pills and packings, and how the weight, colour and shine of the pills lends the black fabric a different feel and texture.

I will upload a short teaser film of the dress ‘in the making’ as soon as I’ve finished editing it, so you can get an idea of the textuality (and size!) of the art work. The dress itself will be installed in our entrance hall, opening on this year’s Culture Night, October 11th.

(That's) Numbersense by Kaiser Fung

Data Mining - Sun, 08/18/2013 - 05:16

I recently received a copy of Numbersense by Kaiser Fung for review. Fung is the author of a blog I have a lot of respect for : Junk Charts. The current post at the top of Junk Charts is about spider charts, and I knew before reading it that Kaiser would be explaining, kindly, why these are nonsense (I would add, on the topic, that one of the real problems with these graphics is that there is an implied meaning for the area of the chart (in terms of the polygon) and that area is not independent of the order of dimensions around the centre of the diagram).

I really like the idea of the concept of NUMBERSENSE. It is what it sounds like - a set of intuitive behaviours, practices, etc. that amount to common sense for data analysts.

I also really like one of Fung's core opinions regarding 'big data' - that more data is an invitation for more and more analyses which result in an explosion of interpretations and a multiplicity of incorrect conclusions.

The book is structured essentially around a small number of case studies, or studies of characteristic areas where numerical, statistical and probabilistic analytics are employed (often in areas that we unknowingly interact with on a daily basis in our regular lives). This structure is, in my mind, part of the weakness of the book. While reference is made to NUMBERSENSE at various stages, the examples highlight more the general theme of 'don't trust everything you read in the papers' rather than a specific structured thesis. For example, the book could have enumerated, illustrated and re-enforced a small set of common misconceptions regarding statistical inference; or it could have catalogued a small number of misleading sampling scenarios. Rather, it stays more at the case study story telling level.

It concludes with a rather odd chapter detailing the trials and tribulations of Kaiser as he works through some technical details while analysing some data. This fails to provide a clean summary or visualization of the big picture.

Given the quality of communication on his blog, my expectations were high for this book, but I came away feeling that it was perhaps poorly edited and not as impactful as the topic could have been. I already do, and will continue to, evangelize NUMBERSENSE to my team, but would like to do so with a more potent reference.

And on an unrelated note - the title of the book strongly reminded me of that most challenging game show 'Numberwang' which I include here for your enjoyment:

 

Submit your proposals for the AAM Annual Conference! Teachers wanted!

Musematic - Sat, 08/17/2013 - 19:59

Hi everyone:

Session proposals for the American Association of Museums’ Annual Conference in Seattle (May 18-21, 2014) are due August 26th. Get them in now!

Every year, the Media & Technology Professional Network looks for people to teach detailed, often hands-on workshops called Tech Tutorials. These beginner and intermediate workshops are designed to be accessible and intimate, a place where attendees can ask specific questions and get some hands on experience. We’re submitting proposed Tech Tutorials for the following topics and we’re looking for teachers for all of them. If you’re coming to AAM in Seattle (May 18-21, 2014), please consider becoming a mentor! Drop me, Susan, or Alex a line if you’re interested in teaching or facilitating (not all of the session descriptions are developed yet, which is why the list looks the way it does. The presenter[s] will have the opportunity to help craft the description):

1. Tech Tutorial: Getting Started with Social Media – Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook, and Google+ (Beginning level)
Have you never used Twitter? Not sure what a hashtag is? Not know how to ‘Like’ or ‘+1” something? Never even heard of Tumbr? Then this tutorial is for you. Learn how these social media platforms work, why they exist, and how museums are using them. Y ou’ll come away with information to help you decide if using these platforms makes sense for your institution. The tutorial is limited to 20 people so participants can ask questions, and share their stories.  This is a beginner-level tutorial, designed for those with little to no social media experience.

2. Tech Tutorial: Deepening Engagement with Social Media (Advanced level)
Gain insight on how to build upon your existing social media presence. This tutorial will explore tactics for developing a comprehensive social media strategy that works in concert with your institution’s overall communications and engagement strategies. We’ll cover advanced features of various social media platforms, such as Twitter, Facebook, and Tumblr; discuss which platforms work best for different types of projects; and explore ways to create connections to your blog. The tutorial is limited to 20 people so participants can ask questions, and share their stories.  This is an advanced-level tutorial. Participants should be familiar with managing and using social media platforms.

3. Tech Tutorial: Principles of Effective Video (Beginner level)
Understand the basic steps in creating video, including audio, cameras, and editing systems. You’ll come away with a list of the equipment you’ll need, and tips about basic approaches to creating successful video. This is a beginner-level tutorial, designed for those with little to no video production experience.

4. Tech Tutorial: Video Crit Room (Advanced)
Bring your video projects to this tutorial and get constructive feedback from your peers. This is an advanced-level tutorial, designed for those who understand the basics of video production.

5. Tech Tutorial: Podcasting – Is anyone still listening? (Beginner-Intermediate)
Podcasting may seem very 2005, but many museums and non-profits are producing successful podcast series. Audio production is less expensive and can require much fewer resources than video production. Learn the basics of podcasting, find out who is using podcasts in the field, and understand out if podcasting may be the right approach for your museum.

6. Tech Tutorial: Does my museum need a blog? (Beginner)
We’ll show you how to get started. Understand how to plan for and implement a blog using WordPress. Employ advanced techniques to build your blog into a valuable, sustainable communication tool to engage your online audience.

7. Tech Tutorial: Google Analytics (Beginner)
8. Tech Tutorial: User Testing on a Shoestring (Beginner)
9. Tech Tutorial: Digital Copyright and Privacy (Beginner)
10. Strategy: What’s the best tool for my message? Digital strategy for projects (Advanced)
11. Tech Tutorial: Basics of Mobile Websites (Advanced)
12. Strategy: Drupal or WordPress? Content Management Systems (Advanced)
13. Tech Tutorial: Organize and Manage Your Digital Assets (Beginner) – I (Perian) have volunteered to talk on this one. I’d like someone familiar with managing video and audio to co-present.

I know a lot of technologists don’t take the time to go to AAM, as it’s for a more general audience, and it’s a frequent complaint that we don’t get much out of AAM. But the registrars, curators, directors, and education staff really need people like us to help them make sense of their technology projects. It’s up to us to help bring the rest of the field forward, to ensure that we’re able to deploy technology projects effectively, and get support from other non-techy staff. Please consider lending your voice and expertise and come to AAM.

Thanks everyone,

Perian Sully
Program Chair, Media & Technology Professional Network

Susan Edwards & Alex Lawson
Tech Tutorial Co-Chairs, Media & Technology Professional Network

P.S. On another note, I’m noticing a lot of session proposals on the AAM website are missing their presenter bios in the proposal. That information is important for us on the National Program Committee to know about the diversity and qualifications of the presenters. When submitting your proposal, please make that information available to us. It makes it more likely your proposal will be approved. Thanks!

ScienceOnline CLIMATE

Biomedicine on Display - Thu, 08/15/2013 - 11:21

I am really not a climate expert or anything close but I am a fan of the ScienceOnline non-conference format, so I thought I’d just promote a bit the ScienceOnline Climate which runs today and tomorrow (15-16 August 2013) in Washington DC, USA.

ScienceOnline is about science communication using social media and other new media to communicate research and science understood in its broadest term. It’s mission is to cultivate the ways science is conducted, shared, and communicated online. It brings together a diverse group of researchers, science writers, artists, programmers, and educators who conduct or communicate science online. The goal is better science communication within the science community, with the public, and with policymakers.

I have only had the opportunity to participate in an ScienceOnline event in-person once, but have followed more online, and I must say I love the concept. ScienceOnline Climate narrows down the focus of science communication to looking at communication of climate related research. According to the planners the event ”will explore the intersection of climate science, communication, and the web. Complex scientific concepts will be interwoven with creative communications approaches through the connective power of the internet. It will be an energizing experience for scientists, journalists, artists, policymakers, and attendees from all nodes of the climate communications ecosystem.”

Some sessions will be live-streamed and there will be lots of tweeting too on the hashtag #scioclimate. Take a look at the schedule for the conference to see if anything is of interest to you.

Become the ‘Ultimate Expert’ in Social MEDia

Biomedicine on Display - Wed, 08/14/2013 - 12:35

I need to update my business card with a new title. I am now a certified ‘Ultimate Expert’ in the use of social media in Medicine. This is a title I have achieved after completing the final module of the free online Social MEDia Course offered by Webicina.coma or more specifically by Bertalan Mesko, MD, PhD, a self-declared Medical Futurist, and founder of Webicina.com

The course is a spin-off of a university course offered to medical and public health students at the University of Debrecen, Hungary since 2008. Bertalan Mesko’s created the course as a response to the lack of digital literacy among doctors:

“Social media are changing how medicine is practiced and healthcare is delivered. Patients, doctors, communication or even time management, everything is changing, except one thing: medical education.” 

After having run successfully for a few years and in response to requests from people abroad to travel to Hungary to follow the course, Bertalan decided to develop an online version of the course – making use of all that social media offer and continue his quest to change the attitude of future doctors and their knowledge about online issues and ultimately revolutionize medical education at a global level.

Prezis, YouTube and a lack of scientific knowledge

The course is organized in 16 different modules all followed by a test, which you have to pass in order to achieve the badge (I felt a bit like a girl scout getting labels to put on my uniform). Each module consists of a Prezi, which systematically takes you through all corners of the topic. Pictures, YouTube videos, take home messages etc. makes the courses dynamic and fun, but at times also a bit commercial and sometimes a tending towards being too unscientific, especially for a university course I miss more solid data. The length of each course varies between one and two hours.

As with any other course, some modules work better than others, probably partly due to one’s interests and baseline knowledge level. I have taken the course over a long period of time (I think 6 months), so I can’t really recall all modules or which ones functioned better than others. Working myself with social media and public health I felt I had to complete the course and get the Ultimate Expert certification, but the modules can quite easily be taken on an individual basis according to one’s needs and interests. Actually, I think my recommendation would be to take the course on a topic by topic basis without aiming to go through all 16 modules unless you get totally hooked on the format. If one aims to take the full course I’d probably spread it over a few weeks or even months taking a module now and again. Going through too many Prezis in a day might make you a bit overwhelmed and the commercial side of the module gets a little too dominant. Besides, if you want to really learning something, you need not just take each module but afterwards experience using Twitter, trying out the possibilities of Wikipedia, engage in medical communities etc. In other words do it yourself.

More medicine than public health

Although the course is meant also to target public health students it is my impression that the primary audience is medical students and doctors. This doesn’t make the course irrelevant to public health students/professionals or other non-medical-but-health-related professionals, but it just means that you do not always feel the content that relevant to you. There is a lot of focus on doctors-patients relationships and apps relevant for medical doctors etc. Relevant stuff but mostly to doctors.

Especially to new-comers to social media (for other than private purposes) the course provides a good baseline introduction to how Twitter works; what the idea behind Wikipedia is and how you can use it; and how social media opens up for entering new communities and crowd-source at a much larger scale. Social media as a tool for communications, finding resources etc. also makes some of the modules relevant to researchers in general.

Take notes!

As mentioned, each module is followed by a test containing 25 multiple choice questions, of which you have to answer at least 23 correctly to pass. For each questions you have 30 seconds to respond. The questions relate very closely to the Prezi and I can strongly recommended taking good notes. The test is really meant to test that you watched the whole Prezi and is not so much a test of what you actually learned. Questions like “What year was Google launched?” and “Who is the founder of the search engine Duckduckgo?” really requires good note-taking. Many questions are framed negatively, e.g. “‘Which is not a suggestion to avoid violating HIPAA?” which requires a lot of (unnecessary?) sentence analysis and can stress you out a bit, resulting in answering incorrectly to questions you actually do know the answers to. To my taste the tests are a bit too useless and doesn’t really add anything to your own learning. But I guess the objective has been to test that you paid attention throughout the Prezi and not that you actually learned anything (which is assumed you did if you know the Prezi by hard) or can apply what you learned. The tests (and Prezis) could use a good editing by an English native speaker, as it in many places is clear that it was developed by a non-native-English-speaker. For one module its okay, but if you take too many in a row you get a bit annoyed.

Interactive

In the spirit of social media the course is of course interactive and you are encouraged to comment and give suggestions for improvements. The response rate to comments is impressive and you have a feeling that your comments are taken seriously. You can also share your achievements (the badges you earn after passing each test) on Facebook and other social media and thus help spread the word not only about the course but in a way also promote the use of social media in medicine.

More academia, revised tests and further studies 

All in all the course is interesting, entertaining and an impressive amount of work has been put into developing it. I have learned a lot of good tips, but perhaps because my baseline knowledge of social media is above the average it wasn’t a big eye-opener to me. Being based on a university course, I would have expected a bit of a stronger academic basis of course. It heavily relies on YouTube videos, TEDtalks and lots of popular data. If I was to recommend anything for the future development of the course it would be to put a bit more ‘academic’ material in the modules. If not in the Prezis then perhaps as an additional recommended readings list. Also a test that feels more relevant to the student might be helpful and some tips on how to get started, or continue exploring the topic after each module might be a good idea.

Guest Post: A New Role for Science Museums--Playground for Scientists

Museum 2.0 - Wed, 08/14/2013 - 07:00
One of the greatest gifts of my babymoon is the opportunity to share the Museum 2.0 author's desk with brilliant colleagues who inspire me. First up is Beck Tench, a "simplifier, illustrator, story teller, and technologist" working at the Museum of Life & Science in Durham, NC. Beck is the brain behind the risk-taker/space-maker paradigm I've shared here in the past. In this post, she writes about Experimonth, an intriguing set of crowd-sourced projects that connect scientists with research participants in surprising ways. 

As a person who works for a science museum, I work in an environment that supports play. But at my museum, the support doesn't stop at our visitors.  I'm also given the space to take risks and to play as my work. It's resulted in some of my favorite work ever: games like #namethatzoom, projects like FeederSketch, adult-only Ball Pits, and most importantly, the creation of Experimonth, which is what I'd like to blog about today.

Experimonth started out as play. Back in 2008, I devised a plan to outsource my New Year's Resolutions. I tweeted and Facebooked a request for friends to suggest things I could resolve to do over the course of 2009. Once compiled, I also asked folks to vote on them, promising to do whatever the top twelve were.  I charted them across the year and pledged to try one each month, inviting others to do them with me and blog about the experience.

Thus began a year of play. That is to say, we engaged in each Experimonth for the pure enjoyment of it, rather than any real serious or practical purpose.  I met many new people and learned a lot about technology and community, but the learning wasn't the point, enjoying the resolutions was.

Fast-forward a couple of years and I'm taking a shower one morning and thinking about a talk a colleague recently gave about the placebo effect and I thought to myself, "we could probably do an Experimonth about that at the museum." I'd just met a local researcher and I thought she'd be a great person to talk to about it. I came to her with an idea I called "Gut Sense." A way to explore doing a blind study on one's self. I imagined people weighing themselves everyday without looking at the scale and then also guessing what their weight was. After a month, they'd compare the numbers to see if there were any correlations between what they sensed and what was quantifiable.

The project didn't go far due to the sensitivity most folks have around numbers and their weight, but it did launch a conversation with the researcher about mood and emotion that ended up becoming the museum's first official Experimonth, Experimonth: Mood. We recruited folks and designed software that texted them five times a day for thirty days, asking one question, "Rate your mood 1 (low) to 10 (high)."

The project blew away our expectations. We retained 96% of our participants throughout the month. They were 81% compliant with texting back their mood. And we generated over 18,000 mood data points for our researcher, Frances Ulman, Ph.D. The most surprising thing to me, however, was what she had to say about the experience:
Experimonth is like playing for scientists.  A critical part of the scientific method is the development of a hypothesis, which can then be tested with well controlled research.  The rigorous and fast paced setting of academia can rarely provide a sort of experimental scratch pad that is ultimately generative for new hypotheses and methods of inquiry. Experimonth can provide this generative experience for scientists, where the flexible interaction with participants allows for potentially new hypotheses and ideas to form. If the lightbulb had already gone off, it certainly got brighter for me at this moment.  Experimonth had the potential to generate new scientific knowledge.  All of a sudden, I looked at my town as a place teeming with scientists in need of play.  And my museum, and this new model, as a space for them to do so.

We ran with it and have since generated data about decision-making, cooperation, competition and negotiation for scientists (and also some artists) to play with. For example:

  • We worked with a local psychologist to create an implicit associations-based game called "Smart, Hot, Honest or Not?" as a part of Experimonth: Race. Using facial morphing software to change a player's avatar to a different ethnicity, we fed the game with hundreds of photos that were judged in a "hot or not" type interface and gave players a view of how intelligent, attractive, and trustworthy others perceived them to be as two different ethnicities. 
  • We worked with a neuroscientist studying cooperation and competition to develop Experimonth: Frenemy, a prisoner's dilemma-based game where players decided to friend or enemy an anonymous opponent based on one piece of information.  We generated nearly 10k data points and hundreds of text-based confessionals that he's already successfully used to model cooperative behavior and is considering publishing on it.
  • We worked with a social scientist studying the power of being able to walk away from an uncooperative environment to develop Experimonth: Freeloader, a public-goods game where players decide whether to invest in their group or freeload.  She'll have enough data from this that she can compare actual human behavior to what she's only been able to simulate via modeling software so far.
  • We worked with an anthropologist studying the evolution of coordination to develop Experimonth: Do You Know What I Know You Know?, a game where you only get points if you choose the same thing as everyone in your group but you don't have any way of communicating with them about your decision.  He'll be able to watch how certain activities evolve into coordination and what kinds of histories the people who most easily coordinate have in common.
  • We also developed Experimonths about trading objects, matchmaking and electronically racing across the country, where the data and/or purpose are less defined -- but we trust it will surely teach us something, even (or especially) if it fails.
There's something magical about the cognitive surplus most of us have at this point in time and then applying that to the challenge of doing something for 30 days.  I wholeheartedly believe it has the power to advance science (and art and cultural heritage) through the power of play. I invite you and your museum to join me as we conceive, launch and complete new Experimonths. In fact, we'll be hosting Frenemy, Freeloader, and Do You Know What I Know You Know? this fall. Sign up to indicate your interest or contact me directly to play a part.

Beck will be checking in to respond to your comments and questions here. 

Museum 2.0 Rerun: I Am An Elitist Jerk

Museum 2.0 - Wed, 08/07/2013 - 07:00
This August/September, I am "rerunning" popular Museum 2.0 blog posts from the past. This is a personal and crowd favorite--and one of the scariest posts I ever wrote. Originally posted five years ago, in August of 2008.


It’s true. I went to Wyoming and learned that I am an elitist when it comes to national parks. I like my parks hard to access, sparsely populated, and minimal in services. It’s an uncomfortable truth which is forcing me to examine my arguments for inclusivity, access, and populism in museums.

I visited two parks last week: the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone. In the Tetons, I had a highly exclusive, hard to access, fabulous experience. I carried a 40-pound backpack up and down mountains and across snowfields for four days with friends. It’s an experience that requires permits, maps, physical ability, gear—a long list of barriers to entry. Few people go for it. That’s part of why I love it.

Yellowstone, on the other hand, was an access dream—and my nightmare. You could drive right up to the geysers. There were wide, flat, paved paths between the natural features. There were benches to sit on, interpretative signs to read, ice cream to eat, and trinkets to buy. There were people and trashcans everywhere. I hated it.

I realize that I have more frequently advocated for Yellowstone-style museums than Grand Teton-style ones. I believe in lowering barriers to access and creating opportunities for visitors to use museums in diverse ways. On this trip, for the first time, I truly understood the position of people who disagree with me, those who feel that eating and boisterous talking in museums is not only undesirable but violating and painful. For elitists, it’s impossible to ignore the ways others are degrading what is for you an intense aesthetic and emotional experience. I get it now. I felt it at Yellowstone.

Understanding what it feels like to be the elitist jerk helps me have a more nuanced perspective on inclusivity and access. Yes, I am a jerk—but only when it comes to my own experience. I and my outdoor values are in the minority. The national parks do not solely, or even mostly, belong to me and my backpacking friends. They belong to the millions in RVs who make the trek to Yellowstone and Yosemite every year. Providing services to support and encourage their visitation makes good sense. They are the great big public, and giving them comfort and access makes national parks a valid and worthwhile alternative to theme parks and resorts.

And while I may have had a day of frustration, supporting their experiences ultimately doesn't hinder mine. I don’t need Yellowstone; I have hundreds of remote, gorgeous mountains to climb in my life. For the people who will never engage at that level, Yellowstone is a necessary, useful option and an entry point that may inspire a few folks to increase their outdoor prowess and join me off the beaten path.

As an experience consumer, I have the luxury of being a jerk. It’s acceptable for me to only respect the parkgoers and services that reflect my values. But if I were a parks interpreter, an experience provider, that attitude would be reprehensible and highly derogatory towards guests.

And herein lies a reason (one which previously eluded me) inclusivity is looked at skeptically by some museum leaders. They are elitist jerks! Museum directors love museums so deeply and are such sophisticated users of them that they want to protect the kinds of experiences they would choose to have as visitors. I feel fortunate that when it comes to museums, I am more similar to the bewildered, skeptical public than the sophisticated few. I don’t feel the pain elitists feel—I feel the pain that the vast majority of visitors feel.

And so I look back on the thousands of people who streamed by me in the Yellowstone parking lot with revulsion—as a jerk. But I also identify with them and look at them with hope and excitement. They are at the park. They didn’t have to be there, but they perceived something of value there and they came. They drove thousands of miles, and they deserve to roll along flat paths in their wheelchairs and strollers. They deserve ice cream with their geysers. As an elite park user, I have plenty of resources at my disposal, from maps to rangers to well-maintained backcountry trails. The Yellowstone visitors, who account for a hugely larger percentage of park visitors, deserve great resources as well. And it’s okay if I don’t care to use them.

Tweet your science!

Biomedicine on Display - Tue, 08/06/2013 - 06:41

I have several times thought about putting together a list of resources about social media for science communication, that would be handy to refer others to and useful for myself. I figured it should include published literature and blog posts about social media for science communication and guides on how to use it. But with new things published almost every day and life in general it has never really happened.

BUT luckily someone else have been working on such a database, focusing mainly on Twitter! Lunched just a few days ago Tweet your Science sets out to diffuse scientists’ hesitation of getting on board social media by providing a guide, reviews, evidence and a database of scientists who are already on Twitter - everything the average scientist needs to start tweeting their science!

The person behind the website is Kimberley Collins who has created it as part of her Master’s in Science Communication at the University of Otago, New Zealand.

The website is extremely simple. Focus has thus far definitely been on content and not layout, and a first glance can send you off a bit confused. It’s not always clear where to click to get to the database, guideline or resources and intuitive links are missing here and there (for example it’s not possible to link directly to the guide but only to individual chapters of the guide). But when you dig into the resource pages it reveals itself to be quite comprehensive, and super useful.

A nice little feature in the resource section is that next to every linked article is a Twitter button so that you can directly share the article with your followers on Twitter. Very much in the spirit of tweeting science.

The Guide to Twitter provides step by step guidelines from how you create an account, edit your profile, start tweeting and start to follow others. It also explains Twitter abbreviations such as MT, RT and HT. Even the least IT savvy person should be able to get on Twitter following this guide.

Tweet your Science is of course also on Twitter (@tweetyoursci) and Facebook.

I look forward to going through the resource list and to following the further development of this great initiative.

Not just object-centered or object-driven but also object-oriented

Biomedicine on Display - Mon, 08/05/2013 - 14:31

Mia Ridge wrote a very nice blog post recently on object-centered and object-driven approaches in the context of online exhibitions. Mia asks whether the object-driven exhibition format that most museums employ might clash with the object-centered practices that most often drive online exhibition.

I won’t comment directly on Mia’s interesting question of whether there is “a potential mismatch between the object-driven approach that exhibitions have trained museum audiences to expect and the object-centred approach they encounter in museum collections online” but rather examine the distinction between object-centered and object-driven approaches itself.

An object-centered approach, following art historian Bernard Herman is one in which the focus of study is on the object itself, specifically its physical attributes and its provenance; this is the kind of descriptive, check-list approach that forms most museums catalogues of their collections. An object-driven approach, on the other hand, emphasizes how objects relate to people and the cultures that make them.  It is the kind of culturally contextualizing approach that drives most exhibition making.

This distinction is useful in that it captures a great deal of what goes on in museum practice. But it also, I think, points to the narrow space that some of the most interesting qualities of objects are afforded.

The distinction reminded me of a critique that philosopher Graham Harman and others from what is called object-oriented ontology has developed about how objects tend to be approached in philosophy. Objects, Harman says, tends to be either undermined or overmined. Here is a quick description from Ian Bogost:

Undermining positions understand reality as smaller bits, be they quarks, DNA or mathematics. Ordinary things such as sheep or battleships become fictions, tricks that deceive minds too naive to understand their depths. Overmining positions take objects to be less real than the processes and circumstances that produce them.

The point of this duality is not that over- and undermining does not produce interesting and valuable knowledge about the world, but rather that neither entirely capture what things are and how we relate to them. There is a functional and effective irreducibility of things at various levels. The rock can’t exist without the atoms but is something distinct from those atoms. And the coffee cup has all kinds of social and cultural implications but it is not functionally reducible to these implications. As a result, what object-oriented ontology tries to do is to stick to the object in order to see what happens if we resist the urge to continually explain it entirely from above or below.

Tacking this critique on to the object-centered and object-driven approaches  to museum practice, it seems to me that a good dose of object-orientedness might be in order. This is because some of the most interesting, seductive and mind-bending qualities of objects cannot be deduced neither from the parts list of the object-centered approach nor the contextualizing instincts of the object-driven. Instead, they emerge in the very specific, contingent and materially embedded meeting with the object (I tried to outline something of what I think sticking with the object might entail in museum practice in this blog post last week).

While I do not subscribe wholeheartedly to an object-oriented philosophy, I am in full agreement with the sentiment behind it: that it is worthwhile to stick to the object as a discrete and functional entity in the world without continuously reducing it to something else. If we continually search for something below or above the object in order to classify or contextualize it, we run the risk of missing what Daniel Miller has described as the “…unexpected capacity of objects to fade out of focus and remain peripheral to our vision and yet determinant of our behaviour and identity…”

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