First, a mea culpa--although I took copious notes from our conversation on Wednesday, I've managed to leave them in another state. Here's what I remember:
We continued our discussion of audience...for museums, for public history, and for this book. In particular, we wondered what about the professional practice of history research and publication warrants so much resistance (apparently) to the idea of "letting go." Alex made the interesting point that the ways in which historians are expected to "let go" involves ceding not only some authority, but some elements of process. In other words, a critical approach means rethinking not only who does history, but how history is done.
Much of our conversation dealt with the challenges of acknowledging commonalities without erasing difference (or, perhaps more to the point, erasing the realities of socioeconomic inequalities). Claire prompted us to consider why and how certain "communities" are targeted, and the politics of distinguishing subsets of museum audiences. Stephanie, meanwhile, contended that it can sometimes be worthwhile to think about drawing specific audience segments (e.g., a particular genre of hobbyists) to museums, but such initiatives are often most fruitful when they are explicit and based on carefully articulated needs and interests. Erin also brought up the importance of approach and delivery--we agreed that although neutrality is probably not possible, it is crucial to create safe spaces within museums if critical approaches are to be successful.
We closed by thinking about the significance of two of the stranger pieces in the book: Mary Teeling's discussion of Dennis Severs' House and Sanford and Sun by Otabenga Jones. While these texts are very different from one another, they both illustrate an important part of letting go--thinking about "truth" as something that may be distinct from "fact." Both function as a kind of playful pastiche, and where one emphasizes the feeling of a space over time, the other bends the very fabric of space-time. Neither a house full of fictional ghosts and superficially lavish furnishings from a mixture of eras nor a "rejected" television script about the meeting of Fred Sanford and Sun Ra tells a history of something that literally occurred. Both texts, however, combine elements of the past in the interest of getting at something even bigger than documentation--something like experience.
We're taking a hiatus for the month of July, but we'll be back in August to discuss Museum Materialities: Objects, Engagements, Interpretations (Ed. Sandra Dudley). Until then, happy (and critical) reading!
DH
We continued our discussion of audience...for museums, for public history, and for this book. In particular, we wondered what about the professional practice of history research and publication warrants so much resistance (apparently) to the idea of "letting go." Alex made the interesting point that the ways in which historians are expected to "let go" involves ceding not only some authority, but some elements of process. In other words, a critical approach means rethinking not only who does history, but how history is done.
Much of our conversation dealt with the challenges of acknowledging commonalities without erasing difference (or, perhaps more to the point, erasing the realities of socioeconomic inequalities). Claire prompted us to consider why and how certain "communities" are targeted, and the politics of distinguishing subsets of museum audiences. Stephanie, meanwhile, contended that it can sometimes be worthwhile to think about drawing specific audience segments (e.g., a particular genre of hobbyists) to museums, but such initiatives are often most fruitful when they are explicit and based on carefully articulated needs and interests. Erin also brought up the importance of approach and delivery--we agreed that although neutrality is probably not possible, it is crucial to create safe spaces within museums if critical approaches are to be successful.
We closed by thinking about the significance of two of the stranger pieces in the book: Mary Teeling's discussion of Dennis Severs' House and Sanford and Sun by Otabenga Jones. While these texts are very different from one another, they both illustrate an important part of letting go--thinking about "truth" as something that may be distinct from "fact." Both function as a kind of playful pastiche, and where one emphasizes the feeling of a space over time, the other bends the very fabric of space-time. Neither a house full of fictional ghosts and superficially lavish furnishings from a mixture of eras nor a "rejected" television script about the meeting of Fred Sanford and Sun Ra tells a history of something that literally occurred. Both texts, however, combine elements of the past in the interest of getting at something even bigger than documentation--something like experience.
We're taking a hiatus for the month of July, but we'll be back in August to discuss Museum Materialities: Objects, Engagements, Interpretations (Ed. Sandra Dudley). Until then, happy (and critical) reading!
DH
