Bubble, Anyone?

The Paola Antonelli quote above was brought to me by Ron Davis, illustrious Principal here at Gyroscope. It's from an article in last Sunday's New York Times by Michael Cannell called "Design Loves a Depression". Mr. Cannell suggested that lean times equal less superfluous design which means better design. It's interesting... and lean. The the article and its design– the Eames chair positioned next to the Campana Brothers chair, and his website gave me the impression that he'd prefer all design to be mid-century minimalist (which I do enjoy). However, I believe the fantastic has a particularly useful role in design. It lifts us out of the every day, and gives us a sense of possibility. Which in these times, can be a very good thing. The problem hasn't been the overabundance of anti-utilitarian chairs, it's been the overabundance of cheap-but-nice-looking stuff. Mr. Cannell suggested that it's "the designer’s job to discourage consumers from regarding that $30 Ikea side table as a throwaway item." I'd regard it as permanent if it lasted longer, and I'd add to that and say it shouldn't be anyone's job to design a throwaway table. I bet the person that bought the Campana Brothers chair is not going to throw it away anytime soon-- or ever. As we continue to formalize our green practice with programs like the LEED certification, we find that it's not a "buy this over that" fix– it's an integrated approach to the entire project that makes things good and green. There are many designers who have been working long and hard to change design in this way. William McDonough + Co., who Mr. Cannell refers to, have been at it since 1981. It's only now that it's fashionable. While some in the mass-consumer design world have been creating a few too many transient objects, the museum world has had little in the way of excess. The impact of the economy on the museum industry has left many feeling that maybe a bubble is better. Especially if you're out of a job or closing down good public programs. Museums have always had to make more with less, with few exceptions. Tough time means that we will now work smarter... and harder.

Happy Birthday, Green Building Council

Ok, Ok, this isn't my finest photoshop effort- I'm under a deadline. Just didn't want to let this pass without a post. The USGBC recently turned 15. I'm beginning to believe that this may not just be a fad. In honor of their accomplishments, the USGBC posted a series of 8 short documentaries on YouTube. What was of particular interest was the letter from S. Rick Fedrizzi, CEO. It talked about the founding of the Council, which struck me to be a lot like getting a new museum off the ground:

"I also wanted to take a moment to share my own story of how I became a green builder. Back in 1991..." [he goes on to talk about first jobs in this area, working for Clinton's White House, learning from the Godfathers of Green: Hawken, Lovins, Browning, and Picard] "...It wasn't very long before I got a cold call from a guy named David Gottfried who wanted to talk about this idea he had for a green building council. When he said it could change the world. I thought he was crazy. But I was already hooked, and so agreed to be USGBC's Founding Chairman. We were little and struggling for the first seven years, and there were many times when we weren't sure we'd make it. But David was right. We can change the world. And here we are proving it each and every day."

Seven years of struggling. Wow- but they are doing well, and it's taking hold- in our industry and others. Thank you, USGBC, and good luck.

"Best" Exhibit? Why that's an impossible question

When I worked at the Exploratorium, I was often asked the question "what are the top 5 exhibit here?" or at a dinner party I often get asked "what's the best exhibit you've ever seen?". It often gets me to wondering if the director at the MOMA is ever asked "what is the best work of art you have"? Or if the president of Stanford is asked "what's the best class at your school?". I know it stems from a genuine desire to make sense of what often seems (especially in the case of the Exploratorium) an overwhelming amount of info and experiences. However, exhibits are as unique as the person standing before it. They are also developed for specific reasons, and are often not intended for everyone-- but because they live in a public space, they need to be understood by all, if not engaged. When I worked there, I proposed an idea of creating curated podcasts or maps, where visitors could select a filter for what they wanted to experience, such as: - exhibits for teenagers - full-body exhibits - exhibits by artists ...and so on. In addition to to having the museum experts make these determinations, what about letting visitors leave their own maps and trails behind in a museum… much as they do on-line? The nice thing about this approach in a museum vs. in an on-line context, is that you still get to "browse" and be exposed to exhibits that may not be on your "list", since they may be adjacent. How could we make visitor-experienced floor plans? How might we allow visitors to get a sense of what their peers or someone they aspire to be “liked” or “learned from”? Have you seen this working somewhere already? Did you participate?

How to Read a Floor Plan - elevation markers

A while back I started this thread by introducing the basics of the drawing sheet. Now I'm moving the next level deeper into the guts. Above is a floor plan for an exhibit area in a museum. Click on it to see it in greater detail and for descriptions in blue. You'll see that I've highlighted the elevation markers, and described some common acronyms. The elevation markers indicate the drawing sheet that the elevation (meaning vertical view vs. a plan view) lives on. It also tells you where on that sheet you'll find it. Typically, drawings that end in .0 are plans, by the way. Any questions? Feel free to ask. I can address it here or in the next posting on this topic.

Museums + LEED Friday: green materials palette

As a follow-on to my post earlier this week about natural environments and children, I thought I would post a palette swatch we have used (and some we are about to use) in our projects. We'll dive into the particulars in future posts. While I haven't included the brightest of brights, they do exist. The nice thing about using these materials in your museum (beyond the obvious) is that it has the effect of inspiring visitors to use the materials themselves. When they see a Vetrazzo countertop, for instance, they say "I can use that in my house"- while at the same time you are walking the walk.

Exhibit or Exhibit Platform: which is right for your museum?

What is an "exhibit platform" you ask? That's when an institution has an infrastructure that has been designed to support rich and changing experiences, programs, or activities. So, when is it appropriate to use "exhibits" and when "exhibit platforms"? I’ll demonstrate: In 2002, Gyroscope teamed up with the staff at the California Science Center to develop the Amgen Center for Science Learning (otherwise known as the Big Lab, pictured above left). This beautiful armory was refurbished to serve a nearby school. At that time, we were in the design development phase of the Bishop Museum Science Adventure Center- an addition to their natural history institution. In the case of the Big Lab, there was a school group that was coming on a daily basis. So one-hit wonders (even if they were working with phenomena) were not going to sustain the learning experience. The teachers and students needed an inter-changeable system that they could plug and play different lessons and activities into. This became an "Exhibit Platform" approach (think set design, to an extent). The Bishop has an amazing collection, and needed to serve a large audience of Hawaiians and global tourists. As a result, they had very different operating requirements from CSC. This global audience is often a one-time visitor, with school groups coming on occasion. While they were describing what was unique to their "local" environment, it is so diverse and well-known, that it was well-suited for high impact exhibits. In addition, the Bishop needed more permanent exhibits because it was going to be a long time before they would have funding again to renovate. Keep in mind from start to finish, the Science Adventure Center took 15 years! Traditional exhibits can be spectacular, iconic, and memorable experiences. They can also be expensive, complex, and as a result, permanent. In this quest for museums to compete for positioning to be the "3rd Place", total exhibit permanence is not always the appropriate solution. The exhibit platform model is useful for zones in a large institution with a need for changing programming or community museums where exhibit maintenance funding is limited, there is a good facilitation staff, and most importantly, repeat visitors. It's a great approach for flexible learning and play. Other museums where we have had success with this approach includes the Chicago Children’s Museum Skyline Exhibit, which I’ll talk about in a future posting. Up next: what makes a great master plan?

Quick follow-up to "Term Limits"

Here's something I forgot to mention in my earlier post- the Milwaukee Art Museum has a new exhibit opening this month called Act/React: Interactive Art. It shows work by a lot of the current big hitters in that realm (Liz Phillips, Daniel Rozin, Scott Snibbe, Camille Utterback). This exhibit plays with what I think are the more traditional notions of "interactive". I love the fact that there are many shades of grey around what is an exhibit as well as what makes it interactive. That's keeping it alive and compelling. It also spans science, art, and design to name a few. It's the shared language that needs some reconsideration. I'm curious about what's worked for you. What kinds of terms have resonated with you when working with these ideas? What tends to help a shared development process move forward when talking about something ubiquitous and yet unique?

Museums + LEED Fridays

We've decided to make our posts from Scott Moulton on LEED and Museums a weekly event. So check back on Fridays to see the latest info!

LEEDership in museums: part 2

Hi, Scott Moulton guest blogging-- I'm an Exhibit Designer here at Gyroscope. I am in the process of studying for a test to become a LEED Accredited Professional and thought it might be useful to make a couple postings on the LEED certification process. As mentioned in Maria's introductory post, LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design) is a building rating system developed by the US Green Building Council in 1998. Who are these kings and queens of green you might ask? They are a group of organizations from the building industry that came together to create a set of quantifiable measures to evaluate the environmental performance of buildings. They have developed rating systems that address 5 types of construction:

• Homes
• Commercial Interiors
• Core and Shell
• New Construction
• Schools / Healthcare / Retail

Within each of these categories a project is awarded points based on its ability to meet specific criteria. Once the points have been totaled, the project is given a rating of certified, bronze, gold, or platinum. Having your building LEED certified is a great opportunity for your organization. It greatly shapes the design and construction process by forcing people to think about the far-reaching implications of building and should give the project a real sense of ambition. From a public relations perspective, it clearly demonstrates your commitment to the environment and gives you a nice talking point when describing your project. Sounds good right? Everyone wants to do the right thing and a museum has a special opportunity for leadership on this issue. Your museum is going to be platinum isn't it? The great thing about this system is that it is extremely demanding. Several years ago I was working at an architect's office and there was a project in the office with a green roof, solar panels, and was built on a brownfield [a former industrial site that may have some contamination]. This project used an innovative onsite sewage treatment system and rainwater collection and only hit gold. This is not meant to be a discouragement, just know that it is a very demanding standard. Next time you see a building that is promoting it's bronze award, know that they went to great lengths to achieve that. I'll be giving you updates from time to time on how this applies to museums. Check back often, or subscribe to an RSS Feed on this blog to be notified. Here are a few museums that have achieved LEED ratings: California Academy of Science Children's Discovery Museum, Normal, IL Grand Rapids Art Museum Water + Life Museum Brooklyn Children's Museum

Term Limits

In my last post, I touched up on the idea that a simple environmental shift in an exhibit can serve as an "interaction" for a museum visitor. Oftentimes in our conversations with clients we run into problems with this term. It's become a ubiquitous descriptor for a museum experience- is a flip panel an interactive? What about pushing a button to watch a video? If I turn a page in a book, is that interactive? This interpretation can vary widely amongst individuals and institutions. Then there's what museum professionals think it is, the client, and, oh yeah... the visitor (do they care?). Whew. I'm lost. You've probably figured out that the reason I'm bringing this up is because I think it's time we agreed that "interactive" has become too inclusive, and therefore, too confusing a term. In his paper "Museums and their languages. Is interactivity different for fine art as opposed to design?" (2002), James Bradburne suggests that we suspend the idea of interactive for a bit, and consider what kind of activity you want in your museum (he goes on to answer the question, which I'll leave to you). This is a great way to start, because it forces you to define and then describe/articulate in greater detail what are the experiences we want our visitors to have. For example, if you want open-ended conversation, then the space you create for it will be as important as the exhibit itself. Or, if you want surprise, investigation, and discovery, then you'll consider more than just one exhibit standing alone in a gallery as part of that goal. So am I talking about the importance of environment on experience? You bet- but there's more to it. If what we hope to achieve for our visitors is a revelation, transformation, or education, then I think we need to be a little more articulate about this intellectual, emotional, or physical transaction we've been calling interactive. By defining the activities we want our visitors to be having in our institutions up front, then we have moved beyond what buttons to push or technology to use. We've started to create a considered world for that experience (even if that world is intentionally surprising or unexpected), and a fuller immersion into the ideas we're trying to expose them to.

Oh, Olafur!

I think the museum exhibit world owes a debt of gratitude to Olafur Eliasson. He's taken the idea of "immersive environments", and firmly placed it on our palette. Not that creating colorful, immersive spaces is new, but Eliasson has provided us with a series of spectacular case studies which have developed a new consciousness around this tool.

Through his work he has reinforced this point: a sparse environment completely devoid of "interactives" can foster a transformative and accessible experience for a diverse audience. These audiences are leaving with a memory that persists.

For the foreseeable future, I imagine many of us will walk a line of not wanting to be derivative of his work, and yet build on it.

So thank you, Olafur, I look forward to the challenge.

Museums + LEED certification: a series

Have you been wondering what LEED stands for? It's: Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design. Next week, we'll begin a series of posts about LEED certification and museums. It will be guest blogged by Scott Moulton, Gyroscope Exhibit Designer. Scott has a degree in architecture from Berkeley, and co-founded Union Studio. His work has been featured in the SFMOMA permanent collection, and in magazines such as Interior Design, Abitare, Metropolitan Home, Dwell and the SF Examiner Magazine. By the way, I've already been corrected, so I'll save you the trouble- it's LEED not LEEDs.

Touch, Don't Touch!

This quote comes courtesy of the Linda Moore, curator at the Fort Collins History Museum. It was overheard at the "Poor of Me, Good of Dog" May Wilkins exhibit, where they put out typewriters for visitor use. After I stopped feeling old (and laughing) it reminded me of a dilemma I sometimes saw at the Exploratorium. A new parent would come in and tell their children "don't touch" but figure out about 1/4 of the way through that it was all about touch. I once worked on a project where I agonized about what type of barrier to use. It was a natural history exhibit that had numerous taxidermied animals and delicate artifacts. Like most designers, I didn't want to put up a visual barrier. The director said that we only needed to put up a simple cable. His argument was that the psychology of crossing the line would be so great that visitors wouldn't need more than that. In the final build however, they made the sides of the exhibit so steep, no one could reach the artifacts, cable or not. At Gyroscope, we addressed this problem at Exploration Place in Wichita by putting dried wheat grass as a no-touch barrier slightly above the rail. It has been very effective, yet makes the visitor feel that they can have some contact with the objects since they're not "under glass". It's wonderful to leave objects out- it helps visitors feel closer to them. But what happens when you're in a history museum context and you reverse the expectation as visitors move from gallery to gallery. Some cases where you want visitors to touch, and most others where you don't? I know that I get into a "mode" when I'm at certain museums- where I almost feel reluctant to move from passive to active. At the recent Bay Area Now 5 show at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, I noticed a number of the artists were using "takeaways" as part of their pieces. They gave large prints and questionnaires (ala Felix Gonzales-Torres). This is not always clear to visitors, and the guards have to sometimes tell folks it's Ok. This got me to wondering about how to make it clear and inviting as people shift from gallery to gallery with an ever-changing set of expectations? One thought I have is to be a little more deliberate. For example, create a "interactivity ramp" between elements when a visitor is in an environment where they don't expect to interact. That model might look like this:

I'm going to try this out in a future project, and I will let you know how it goes. What methods have you used to foster interaction in unexpected places?

Giving Context to Experiences

We've been working on several historical projects recently. These history museums and societies provide more than facts and figures about the past. At their best, they foster an understanding of the contexts that led up to events, and forge connections between history and individuals. One such example is a project from the United States Holocaust Museum "Children of Lodz Ghetto". USHMM collected stories from diaries and interviews with survivors of the ghetto. These were archived together wi th photos of artifacts, people, film footage, and individual stories. For example, the history of Jutta Szmirgeld provides snippets of her time from age 12 in Lodz to her amazing survival of Auschwitz. Such collections enable us have empathy for the past by providing us with a more complete picture of life at that time. The technology allows us to gather and share these stories fluidly with one another, while allowing the museum to do what it does best: give us an open-ended, yet informed experience of the past. [originally posted elsewhere, revised]

Visitors as Curators

In an era where people can select the news they want to hear, they are making their own decisions about their experiences in museums and galleries. As we know, they can blog, comment, and even give each other context about what they experience. After all, it is their experience. The question for museums is how to help individuals make meaning out of these choices? How do you reach them? How do you validate their experience... and add to it? One answer is find out what people are saying. Give them ample opportunity to post what they think about your exhibits. For example, you could offer them the opportunity to respond with a multi-pronged approach, divided along favored types of input:

• Tween/Teen set: you can offer a "text us at 555-1212", then post vetted comments online or in the museum
• Bloggers: you could advertise the blog for the museum or exhibit in-house and invite them to comment. Provide them with a terminal on-site so they can record their experiences immediately. You can moderate their posts, if necessary.
• Luddites: provide the greenest option of them all- a notebook (a real one, not a computer). Scan in their comments from time to time. Rip out the offensive ones or find a funny sticker to put over them.

Then link to other sources of information about the topic du jour for your visitors. Sites they may or may not normally associate with the subject. Provide backstories to your own research on the topics- such as, a historical museum may have an interesting story about how they acquired a certain object. Of course it's important to balance all this interconnectedness with the key topics that the exhibit is raising and not get off-track. After all, visitors are coming to your web site or museum because they want to learn something they didn't already now (if you're looking for some ways to think about this, there are a few models mentioned here). Finally, respond to what they are saying. Figure out what the recurring questions are, and find a way to make public the fact that you are listening and responding. If you have a very prolific or passionate visitor, invite them to guest blog or have an interview with them that you can post on-line and in-house. If you have questions about the investment of time, there's a good article at Museum 2.0 called "How much time does web 2.0 take?". This interconnectedness is here to stay, and it's good news for museums. It means you have more opportunities to extend the visit, and reach new audiences, which I'll write more about in future posts. Way back in 2005, Michael Haley Goldman of the Holocaust Memorial Museum and Kathryn Haley Goldman, Institute for Learning Innovation wrote a paper for Museums and the Web which predicted: " I see in the future more collaborative experiences, more real-time collaboration, but also [an] untapped market for curators to use the power of the Web to collect stories. – to solicit content from the users, of wanting to get broader range of experiences, to build collaborative virtual collections." The future is now. Is your institution ready? -- Suggested reading: Brooklyn Museum's "Click" Exhibit

How to Read a Floor Plan - the drawing sheet

This is the first part in a series about understanding design and construction drawings. It's fairly common to work on a museum project and have folks at the table who aren't familiar with architectural drawings. Most of us are in that boat who haven't studied architecture (I know I was). Yet these same people are put in the position to make key decisions based on these plans, so it's important for them to be able to decode what they are seeing. Floor plans can be used at various stages in the museum planning process- from schematic all the way to final design. For the moment, we'll focus on scaled architectural plans. Let's start with the basics [click here to see the notes]: The Title Block: shown above is a blank drawing sheet with a title block and drawing label. The title block gives you the big picture information on the drawing. Such as: who the drawing is for, who made it, what project it is about, what phase of the project, and what the overall sheet is describing (a floor plan, an exhibit, or a component). The Drawing Label indicates what that particular item is, what type of view it is (a plan, an elevation), the scale, and the number. This number is important because often on a plan you will see a number in a circle pointing to something. On a plan, that directs you to the sheet and drawing on that sheet where you can find the details for that component. FYI, there can be several drawing labels on a sheet, but on a floor plan, there is usually only the plan. Next up on this topic: we'll delve into the sheet to sheet references mentioned above.