The first article is by Barry Bergdoll, Philip Johnson Chief Curator of Architecture and Design at the Museum of Modern Art: The Art of Advocacy: The Museum as Design Laboratory .

The second article is by Alexandra Lange, a critic, journalist and architectural historian who teaches architecture criticism in the D-Crit Program at SVA, NY: What the Cooper-Hewitt Needs: More Design, Less Talk. Here comments are worthy of being read as much as the text by the Author.

In 2010 Peter Hall, design critic, and senior lecturer in design at the University of Texas at Austin, gave an acute lecture on the topic, going through different kinds of failures – such as the successful failure of Starck’s lemon squeezer.
«We don’t need to justify design’s importance to the world or the art establishment: We need to look into how it works and where it’s going wrong. We need a new generation not to venerate design, but to sniff out failure» is the conclusion of Hall.

Watch the lecture on vimeo. The lecture has also been published in “Abitare” magazine, issue 508 (English version / Italian version).

[By the way, for those who want to sniff out failure, and get closer to how failure can “work”, a masterful example comes from the analysis conducted by Paul Atkinson, A Bitter Pill to Swallow: The Rise and Fall of the Tablet Computer, in “Design Issues”, 2008.]

Curators, scholars and students meet on June 6, 2011, to discuss the issues of “Archiving Design Organisations”. Funded by the Design History Society, the seminar is held at the University of Brighton, whose Design Archives hold the archives design organisations such as Design Council, the International Council of Graphic Design Associations (ICOGRADA) and the International Council of Societies of Industrial Design (ICSID).

The aim of this seminar is to develop discussion about particular issues related to the archives of design organisations. As well as including museums, regional archives and university collections, it will engage design organisations that face the challenge of balancing the need to record and preserve their significant heritage with the current demands of records management in a digital era. The histories
of design organisations are critical in explaining the wider context of how and why design is provoked, produced, and promoted in broad political and economic frameworks both nationally and internationally.
Similarly, it is research into design organisations that has the most potential for engaging other disciplines and research communities, extending the remit of design history within and beyond the humanities.

Speakers will include:
Professor Jonathan Woodham, Director of Research, Faculty of Arts, University of Brighton (introduction); Leah Armstrong, AHRC doctoral student (the design profession and the archive of the CSD: a research project); Jo Maude, Design & Art Direction (the D&AD and the archive challenge); Donna Loveday, Design Museum (the Design Museum: its heritage and its future); Susan Bennett, William Shipley Group for RSA history (Over two centuries of design history : the RSA archive).

«This exhibition provides a platform of enquiry that offers a clear and simple reading, for further critical studies, taking on board something which for Gavina was always a necessary condition: keeping up with his time.»

With these words Elena Brigi and Daniele Vincenzi present the exhibition, of which they are curators, Dino Gavina: Lampi di Design (“Flashes of Design”), currently on show at MAMbo, Bologna (September 23 to December 12 26).
This investigation and clarification they have made is the more important and necessary, as long as they focus on a figure – Dino Gavina – and a period – the 1950-60s of Italian design, in particular – that are often found to be still dispersed in the fog of anecdotes and mythologies. For someone like me, who has learnt about Gavina only through books and the voice of other people, the exhibition thus offers an excellent opportunity to learn and understand.

The exhibition is organized in sections devoted to themes, people, projects and companies, avoiding a strictly chronological sequence. The visitor is guided through the story – or rather the multiple stories – of Gavina the man and entrepreneur, and hence invited to look to the broader contexts and events that characterised industry, culture and society after World War II.
In each section, large panels with text and images, placed on the wall, introduce the core themes and key figures (designers, companies, places), offering different levels of reading: Graphic Design (an overview of the role of graphic design and communications for Gavina, according to whom production is, itself, “communication”; it is interesting to note that the table used in this room are produced following the instructions of the “Selfdesign proposal” by Enzo Mari), Lucio Fontana (the artist who introduced Gavina to design culture, to architects such as De Carlo, Mollino, and Pier Giacomo Castiglioni), Anonymous Masters (the interest in material culture and Italian craftsmanship), Achille and Pier Giacomo Castiglioni (with whom Gavina developed a strong friendship and cooperation, clarifying his own idea of industrial product), Neoliberty 1960 (a reference for Italian design, a new path free from the imperatives of Modernism), Flos (the company co-founded by Gavina, and that in a few years, between 1961 and 1968, produced a large number of models, some of which are still in production today), Marcel Breuer (a meeting with the master of Modernism that leads to the production of models dating back to 1920s, thus strengthening the prestige of Gavina), Showrooms and factories (all places that are not only for production and trade, but for producing and promoting the culture of industry and design), Kazuhide Takahama (this is a particularly rich section, probably as an homage to the Japanese-born designer, who died in Bologna earlier this year), Sirrah (the company based in Imola, to which Gavina was a consultant), Luigi Caccia Dominioni (who collaborated with Gavina in particular in the 1980s), Tobia Scarpa, Carlo Scarpa (who not only designed Gavina’s showroom in Bologna, but also significant pieces), Marcel Duchamp and Man Ray (two artists sought and loved by Gavin), The Duchamp Center (a center of research and experimentation aimed at bringing together art, design, science, industry), Ultramobile (functional art furnishings), Sebastian Matta, Giacomo Balla (whose designs for “futurist flowers” are produced by Gavina in the 1960s), Metamobile (the “Selfdesign proposal” by Enzo Mari), Paradisoterrestre (ideas and designs for the urban environment, the city, the natural landscape).
Walking through the exhibition, the impression is confirmed that, as they state, the curators were guided by the aim of clarification, carefully documenting and displaying stories that are only apparently simple; and they do so without falling into hagiography, letting the visitor read also the illusions and failures of a man who was as ironic as restless.

The large black and white photographs that are reproduced on the panels not only offer visual input, but add an additional level of storytelling, thanks to the accurate captions that tell in detail about people, documents, events.
In addition to text and pictures, of course there are objects. Carefully selected and presented on white platforms, in the center of the rooms or near the walls, the products are offered as an example of the fruitful collaborations between Gavina and designers, and above all as an illustration of single design and industrial issues.
While lingering around these objects, the visitor’s vocabulary is enriched with details that explain much of the evolution and history of design and industry: Villa Olmo (the space designed by the Castiglioni brothers, mostly furnished with “anonymous” items), Disassembly (exemplified by Castiglioni brothers’ Giro armchair), Seriality (Digamma chair designed by Ignazio Gardella), Molds and foam rubber (again exemplified by a piece by the Castiglioni brothers, the Sanluca chair), New Light (a focus on Flos production), Drawing with the tubular (that is, drawing from Breuer’s principles), Transformations (the bench Monforte by Caccia Dominioni), For the Factory, Modules (modularity, the guiding criteria for many designs by Takahama), Light cuts (again a focus on a design by Takahama, a tribute to Fontana: the lamp Saori), Movable blocks, Cut and Fit (key principle in the “Futurist flowers” by Balla), Autonomy (as advocated by Enzo Mari).
Along the way, texts, photographs, objects, provide a wide range of keys to access contents, catching the visitors’ attention and allowing everyone to take away with them an impression, an idea, a story, an inspiration.
Certainly the structure of the exhibition Dino Gavina is largely given by the written word (and it is unfortunate that the same contents have not been featured in the Atlas Gavina, that was published on the occasion of the exhibition by Corraini Publisher). But the exhibition is also enriched by the spoken word: on the one hand, that of the curators who, every Thursday, lead guided visits; on the other hand, the words of friends and collaborators of Gavina, of witnesses and interpreters of his story.
Finally, the exhibition is accompanied by two other exhibitions, again curated by Brigi and Vincenzi, in other venues: Dino Gavina. Bologna, Bologna, at the Urban Center in Bologna, and UltraGavina at the Water Tower of Budrio (BO).

“Social change” seems to be the key word, and key issue, for design museums.
The next European Museum Network Conference promoted by the Vitra Design Museum (MUSCON 2010), taking place in London at the end of October, not only aims at enhancing and improving connections and cooperative relationships between museums of design, art and architecture, but will focus precisely on the social dimension of museums and of design. Themes under discussion will be “the social museum” – that is the role museums play in social change –, sustainability – of both design and exhibitions –, and finally museums and social networking.
Earlier this year, the Winterhouse Institute invited twenty-two curators, designers, historians, educators and journalists to discuss the role of museums “in relation to design for social change”. Reasons Not to Be Pretty: Symposium on Design, Social Change and the “Museum”, the symposium organised by William Drenttel, editorial director of the Design Observer Group, and Julie Lasky, editor of Change Observer, certainly marks a significant point in the discussion on design and museums – as it is clear from the full and detailed report that Lasky and Drenttel offer from the pages of Design Observer, to which I can only refer. The decision itself of sharing the contents and results of the symposium signals their willingness to bring the discussion further; if, as seems to be the intent, it will publish updates and information on these topics, Change Observer will become an important reference point for all who are interested in design and museums, and in developing both the museography and museology of design.
In view of that, I think that one point is worthy of consideration. Unlike other conferences, the Winterhouse’s symposium has proven the importance and value of gathering diverse voices, who come from different kinds of institutions dealing with design but as well as from a wide range of countries – not just USA and Europe, but also Brazil, India, Africa. However, it would be equally important that the discussion would involve other figures, who may be not so focused on design, but may have something to say about museums and social change. It is interesting to read what Drettel and Lasky writes in the first paragraph of their report: “Of the cultural institutions that have taken the lead in social change, museums of science and natural history seem to be well ahead of their design colleagues”. Why not inviting curators of science and technology museums, for instance, or curators of history museums?
As I have been researching science and technology museums and museology, in relation to design issues, I believe that a fruitful exchange is right around the corner. Hopefully, in the next future, somebody will finally make the first step.

Read the article online

I recently visited the V&A Museum of Childhood in London, Bethnal Green. Compared to “children museums”, where the participatory quality and the active engagements of kids is predominant, the Museum of Childhood has a more complex nature due to its history and to the history of its collections. In fact, the museum in Bethnal Green was originally formed in 1872 as a branch of the South Kensington Museum, to serve the public of East London. The interest in children and the collection of toys date back to the 1920s, thanks to the curator Arthur Sabin, who wanted to do something specifically devoted to children from that part of the city, who looked bored and noisy when visiting the museum (for the history of the museum, in addition to the website, see the article by Anthony Burton, 1997). After the Second World War, under the curatorship of Montague Weekley, the collection of toys grew further, but it was only in 1974 – under the direction of Sir Roy Strong at the V&A – that it was decided to devote the museum entirely to childhood: collections that were not relevant were moved to South Kensington and the institution was finally renamed “Museum of Childhood”. Today different souls do coexist within the museum, as they are represented by the permanent exhibitions (with objects and interactive play areas), temporary shows, and activities and workshops organized for schools and families.
The curatorial approach adopted in the museum has been variously criticized over the years, especially with the advent of the New Museology, with the new wave of thinking that has characterized the world of museums over the past twenty years, as well as the reflection on the construction of knowledge. In an essay published in 1989, in the book New Museology, for instance, Ludmilla Jordanova complained about the abstract, idealised and coercive nature of the Museum, ending with presenting the public with a “certain” idea of childhood, that shows no shadows (i.e. it does not pay any attention to real contexts, where children often had no toys nor any form of education) and that appears, paradoxically, to be without children. More generally, Jordanova criticized the claim the Museum made that the very display of objects could bring to the public the variety of stories and cultural meanings of which objects, as documents, are the carriers – this is the wrong assumption that Jordanova read in the Museum’s claim of being an institution that «tries to preserve something of everybody’s childhood», «a museum that should appeal to everybody, for there is no one who was not once a child», finally a place where objects «often speak louder than words and statistics, and can help museum visitors to sense what it was like to be a child, or a parent, in the past». Conversely, Jordanova underlined how only the act of interpretation and contextualization of artifacts can help the plurality of childhood’s stories and meanings to emerge. Actually, this is not really what a survey conducted later, in the 1990s, has revealed: in fact when asked whether they had expected the displays of the Museum «to reveal more about the domestic, educational or working aspects of children’s lives», adult visitors of Childhood Museum usually answered they did not – in a way, proving that in their minds, the equation exists “childhood museum = toy museum”, and that the idealistic idea persists that childhood is sufficiently represented through toys, as Sharon Roberts has recently noted in a paper about the representations of children and childhood in British museums.
However, twenty years after the paper by Jordanova, although one could not say that the Bethnal Green Museum has fully addressed and resolved the issues mentioned by the scholar, the current mission of the Museum appears to be pointing in a different direction, at least showing a renewed awareness of its role and tools: to «encourage everyone to explore the themes of childhood past and present, and to develop an appreciation of creative design through our inspirational collections and varied public programme» (here online).

The permanent collections are displayd in three galleries that do not follow a chronological order but a thematic one – Moving Toys, Creativity, and Childhood – and that occupy most part of the building (the same since 1872) with a series of large showcases. The galleries offer different access keys for both toys and childhood, presented through introductory texts that suggest a number of possible considerations and comparisons. In the case of Moving Toys, for example, toys are presented depending on the type of movement necessary to put them into action, or the type of “movement” that can create (for example the moving image); in this section activities are also included, like a peep show. The Childhood gallery is divided into six subsections, where toys are displayed to invite visitors – adults as well as children – to reflect on the experience of childhood in different periods and cultures: Babies, Home, What We Wear, Who Will I Be?, How We Learn, and Good Times – in this section, one can see adults and children engaging in board games, while kids play in a sandpit beach. Finally, Creativity consists of vitrines and interactive stations where children can experience and express their imagination and creativity – the latter being presented as belonging to everybody, «everyone is creative», as the ability to «question, play, take risk and come up with new ideas» and as an ability that also helps children develop their self-esteem and their social relations.
While looking around and reading the texts in the Museum, it is hard not to think about design and its relationships with creativity, with children, with play, and about how these aspects can be displayed in the museum context: both in the sense just indicated, of playing and creativity as important factors in the design process and of how designers have addressed the theme of play and toys, as well as in the sense of how these design issues and features can be exhibited in a museum, especially in a museums that is primarily aimed at children. During my visit these thoughts were particularly stimulated by two temporary exhibitions, both specifically revolving around design.

The first exhibition, Use Your Imagination (November 28, 2009 - June 13, 2010), displayed in the entrance hall, was devoted to child-centered toy design, aiming at critically reflecting on design and toy industry in contemporary society.

«Play is a vitally important element in a child’s social, emotional, physical and intellectual development. It is how we learn about the world. Toys are the tools of children’s play and need to be well designed to fit the purpose. The market is saturated with commercially hyped, over-packaged products with short lived appeal. But what makes a “good” toy?»,

asked the introductory label.
In an article published in 1947, presenting his cat Meo Romeo, Bruno Munari wrote that for him, to design books and toys for children was a great pleasure, since «children are the ideal audience: they know what they want, have no preconceptions, and if they do not like something they just say it» (translation is mine; the original text here). Use Your Imagination seems to be based on a similar conviction, that is that children are the best judges. BA Applied arts students from Middlesex University have been invited to create design solutions that try to respond the issue “what makes a good toy”. Not only students could draw inspiration from the archive of toy producers Paul and Marjorie Abbatt, precursors of the child-centered design (the archive is part of the Museum and some pieces were also on show), but their designs were tested by a critical panel of children, aged 5 to 10 years.

The second exhibition, Sit Down: Seating for Kids (February 6 - 5 September 2010), as the title suggests, is dedicated to seats for children, focusing on comfort and design (see the presentation online).

«We take sitting down and a degree of comfort for granted, but it has not always been so simple. [...] Designers have approached seating for children in many ways as attitudes have changed. Let us show a variety of chairs spanning three hundred and fifty years and ask an important question = what makes the perfect seat for you?»,

reads the introductory text.
The exhibition, curated by Catherine Bornet (it is nice to see her picture as a child and to learn about her favorite games here!), presents a rich display of chairs and other seats for children, running through the history of furniture from the seventeenth century to today. Three main questions provide the framework for the display, under which the visitors’ attention is constantly engaged by a series of questions and annotations that invite them to observe different aspects and to form their opinion.
The first question is only deceptively simple “What is a seat?”. The tale of Goldilocks and the Three Bears offers the perfect set to suggest that, beyond the certainty that a chair is a place or thing to sit upon, over the centuries and in everyday life several factors and considerations have contributed in producing a wide variety of models – in respect to which visitors are asked to express their preference, trying some of the seats on display and using criteria such as comfort, style, size, color, material.
The next section “Who are seats for?” invites visitors to consider how seats function in different contexts (kitchen, bathroom, school, outdoors, etc.) and in relation to the adult-sized world where seats were, or are, used. Here seats are not only introduced with panels and catching phrases, but also “personified” through cartoons and jokes that express their qualities: “Sit up straight” cries out a deportment chair designed by Sir Astley Paston Cooper to force children’s posture, both physically and morally.
Finally, “How are seats made?” presents a parade of chairs, focusing on design, materials (displayed on panels that can be touched), and production techniques, from Chippendale to Jane Atfield, from handcraft to industrial production, from wood to recycled plastic. This section concludes with an area where children are encouraged to assemble a chair and to design themeselves and show their seats.

Both these temporary exhibitions, Use your imagination and Sit Down, as well as some sections of the permanent exhibition at the Childhood Museum, offer interesting insights on how design can be displayed and presented in the museum context. One might say that having children and families in mind – rather than an élite of art or design passionates – can help in developing a curatorial approach that aims at providing an engaging experience for the public.

References
Anthony Burton, Design History and the History of Toys. Defining a Discipline for the Bethnal Green Museum of Childhood, in “Journal of Design History”, vol. 10. 1997, n. 1, pp. 1-21.
Ludmilla Jordanova, Objects of Knowledge. A Historical Perspective on Museums, in The New Museology, ed. by Peter Vergo, Reaktion Books, London, 1989, pp. 22-40.
Sharon Roberts, Minor Concerns. Representations of Children and Childhood in British Museums, in “Museum and Society”, vol. 4, 2006, n. 3, pp. 152-165; online.

In recent years, design museums, design in museums, and museum design are all topics that have attracted growing interest from scholars and professionals: on the one hand, the issues related to the musealisation of design and to design museums, on the other hand the issues raised by exhibition design and by the use of design as a conceptual and practical tool to design museum and museum experience.
In this last sense, it is noteworthy to mention an article written by Alice Lake-Hammond, free lance designer, and Noel Waite, University of Otago (New Zealand): Exhibition Design: Bridging the Knowledge Gap, published in the latest issue of “The Design Journal” (edited by Paul Atkinson, vol. 13, n. 1, pp. 77-98).
As the abstract reads, in this article the authors consider «the changing role of exhibition design and its contribution to the interpretation in the increasingly audience-centred museum environment». To do so, they investigate the case study of the Museum of New Zealand/Te Papa Tongarewa, its new design and strategy, as a good example of how designers were involved at different stages – exhibitions concept plan, architecture, exhibition design etc. – and did contribute in developing the museum experience, finally helping to «bridge the gap» between expert knowledge and visitors. No surprise, Ralph Appelbaum, the award winning designer and a leader in the field of interpretive museum design, was involved in this project.
Not only do Lake-Hammond and Waite examine the case study, but they trace an historical framework about the development of exhibition design and the changing role of designers in museums, providing good references to existing literature both of museum studies and design studies.
Moreover, they conclude the paper with «a preliminary map of the key interpretive design considerations of concepts, contexts and narratives as a guide to the exhibition design process in contemporary museums», in order to enhance the dialogue between designers and curators and the involvement and participation of designers in the concept and contents development.
The design process model they advance – which is also illustrated via diagrams – regards concepts, contexts and narratives as three major aspects that should be considered to develop a strong interpretive design and where designers can help curators and museum professionals.
In the very last sentence the authors state that in «an information-saturated world, there is a growing need for articulate communicators to help us understand our past, integrate new knowledge and inspire new ways of seeing our future, and we would argue that the field of exhibition design is one place they can reliably be found».
Indeed they are right. What would be interesting to ponder about additionally, however, is whether and to what extent design curators and design museums have reached this kind of awareness. If one looks at the museum world as a whole and at the advancements in museum studies, it is true that in general «[w]here once the curator was the sole keeper of expert knowledge, the contemporary exhibition process has become a collaborative effort involving curators, designers, educators, technicians and, increasingly the audience themselves».
Yet, this truth seems to turn into an exception when one looks at some design museums and design exhibitions, where, to use Eilean Hooper-Greehnill’s words, it seems the modernist transmission model of communication still prevails.[1]

Note
[1] Eilean Hooper-Greenhill, Changing Values in the Art Museum. Rethinking Communication and Learning, in Museum Studies. An Anthology of Contexts, ed. by Bettina Messias Carbonell, Malden, MA, Blackwell Publishing, 2004, pp. 556-575.

Cases of science and technology museums that have pursued an explicit and strategic policy of collecting and exhibiting industrial arts and design are quite rare. One can mention the Národní technické muzeum (National Technical Museum) in Prague, which comprises collections of Industrial design and Consumer industry – the Museum is currently closed, under renovation, to be reopened by Autumn 2010. Or the Powerhouse Museum, major branch of the Museum of Applied Arts and Sciences, in Sydney, whose motto/logo reads “science+design”, and where design is not only considered in terms of decorative arts and furniture design (under the Design and Society curatorial department), but is also considered as product design (under the Science and Industry curatorial department). At the Science and Technology Museum in Shanghai, an entire section, The Cradle of Designers, is devoted to design, allowing people to discover computer aided design (CAD) and computer aided manufacture (CAM) and to experiment designing and manufacturing. Moreover, as mentioned before in this blog, in 2009 the Science Museum in London and the Canada Science and Technology Museum in Ottawa decided to include design in their mission (see here and here).
Besides these cases, the tradition and the current panorama of science and technology museums already have lots to offer to the museology and museography of design, and to culture of design.
Consider, for example, the artefacts studies and researches developed by curators and scholars like those that are collected in the series of publications Artefacts: Studies in History of Science and Technology.
The result of the collaboration of the Science Museum in London, the Deutsches Museum in Munich, and the Smithsonian Institution in Washington DC, this series aims at exploring innovative approaches to the «object-oriented historiography of science and technology», beyond the «strict technical description of artefacts on the one hand, and an overly broad social history on the other» – as the Series Preface reads.
Each year an Artefact conference is held, where curators as well as science and technology scholars and historians share ideas on diverse topics – London’s Science Museum hosted the 14th edition in 2009, Canada Science and Technology Museum will host the 15th. These conferences also offer the occasion to attend workshops, working on artefacts’ interpretation, and in the end to select some papers for the publications.
So far the series – which is currently edited by Robert Bud, Science Museum, Bernard Finn, Smithsonian Institution, and Helmut Trischler, Deutsches Museum – include the following issues, each of them having special curators: Manifesting Medicine: Bodies and Machines, ed. by Robert Bud, Bernard Finn, Helmuth Trischler, Amsterdam, Harwood Academic Publishers, 1999; Exposing Electronics, ed. by Bernard Finn, with Robert Bud, Helmuth Trischler, Amsterdam, Harwood Academic Publishers, 2000; Tackling Transport, ed. by Helmuth Trischler, Stefan Zeilinger, London, Science Museum, 2003; Materializing the Military, ed. by Bernard Finn, Barton C. Hacker, London, Science Museum, 2005; Presenting Pictures, ed. by Robert Bud, Bernard Finn, Helmuth Trischler, London, Science Museum, 2005 (see also the review in “Journal of Design History”, vol. 18, 2005, n. 3, pp. 307-309); Showcasing Space, ed. by Martin Collins, Douglas Millard, London, Science Museum, 2006; Illuminating Instruments, ed. by Peter Morris, Washington DC, Smithsonian Institution Scholarly Press; next one should be on musical instruments.

«There is no room here for the objects», complained Bernard Finn, introducing the second volume of the series, making reference to the little attention historians of technology still paied to the study of artifacts. And he pointed to the objectives of the publications:

«Our goal is to persuade other historians that artefacts are fruitful sources of inspiration and of evidence, which might help persuade them to pay more attention to the collections we have so carefully accumulated in our museums».[1]

Against the risk that even the history and interpretation of technology in museums put the artifacts in the background, in favour of the study of literature and texts, Finn recalled the method of archaeologists, for whom the objects are the primary source of information and evidence, and he reminded the different values and opportunities arising from the artefacts study: from inspiration, which may come from direct contact with objects and their physical and material analysis that can reveal information beyond literature, up to the study design and the “style” of technology.

Indeed, what is interesting to notice is that, while the authors do not focus exclusively on design, many of the papers included in the series actually investigate histories and addess topics which also deal with design history and issues. One may argue that precisely because they are not interested in making statements on “good design” (whatever it means), and because they draw from systemic approaches for the analysis of technology and from material culture and archeology methods to study the artefacts, the authors explore histories well beyond the object per se, by analysing the contexts of conception and design, the systems of production and sale, of use and consumption of various products, from prostheses to automobiles, from computer to weapons.
To put it in the words of Tomás Maldonado, some of these papers look at both sides of that dialectic relationship «between needs and objects, between production and consumption», at the «focal point» where industrial design really happens.[2]
Artefacts series: worth reading…

Notes

[1] Bernard Finn, in Exposing Electronics, ed. by Bernard Finn, with Robert Bud, Helmuth Trischler, Amsterdam, Harwood Academic Publishers, 2000, p. 1.
[2] Tomás Maldonado, Disegno industriale: un riesame, new ed., Milano, Feltrinelli, 1991 (1st ed. 1976), pp. 14-15.

© photo Canada Science and Technology Museum, Ottawa

In 2009 the Canada Science and Technology Museum in Ottawa started a programme and strategy to collect and exhibit industrial design. While the programme is still under development, some points seem to be quite clear. As far as can be learned from the considerations made by the curatorial staff, this case promise to lay a significant example for science and technology museums that will aim to engage with design. Moreover, it will certainly contribute in elaborating and spreading the culture of design among a wider public, advancing approaches and facing issues which may be rather different from those to which art museums and design museums have accustomed us.

I had the chance to interview Anna Adamek, appointed Curator of Natural Resources and Industrial Design, who shared her ideas and vision for the future of industrial design at the Canada Science and Technology Museum.

Museums of science and technology preserve and even exhibit objects of design, and they often deal with issues which are relevant for design history and practice. But cases of science and technology museums explicitly dealing with design are quite rare if not unique. Why did you decide to start a specific program for collecting and exhibiting industrial design?
One of our aim at the CSTM is to keep technology and society together in our interpretations, but that still leaves the creative process of design, a crucial element, missing. In the recent past we have been conducting sporadic research on design of technological objects for a while – for instance the design of locomotives, the design of carriages that were intended to be used by ladies or by gentlemen, the use of green colour in medicine, industrial transfers, decals placed on ships and railway to display corporate identity of the companies that owned them, etc. etc. So even though we conducted this research in unsystematic way, we did it because we felt that there was something missing in the interpretation of technologies.

Your position reads “Curator of Natural Resources and Industrial Design”. Why are these areas kept together?
We do operate in an institutional structure, and it is not easy to change jobs to incorporate a new collection area. As the former curator of the Energy and Natural Resources retired, it gave us an opportunity to redefine the job, to include ID. It was a purely organizational opportunity. Of course, the fact that ID is incorporated into one curator’s job and is juxtaposition with Natural Resources may pose some problems – for instance, the curator may not be seen as an expert on the topic (but I would never claim to be!). But I think that there are also some advantages: this merger of two subject areas represents the basic philosophical approach that we would like to take, that is to say that the creative process of ID is present in every aspect of technology, and that we will not separate it from technological artifacts; it shows that we perceive ID as more than esthetics; it allows us to be eclectic and not to fall under one “-ism”; we can form partnership with the industry and with academia to enrich our interpretation while telling a story that goes beyond design; we can cooperate with design museums and enrich our exhibits and theirs.

Because you are a science and technology museum, I guess your program will not just deal with lamps and furniture pieces, instead you will try to investigate relationships of design and technology. Can you tell me something about the approach you intend to adopt?
I absolutely agree with you that we have to move beyond “furniture.” My understanding of ID is as yours – the crossroad between technologies and society. Every technology is designed. It is quite fascinating to look at the development of mining drills from the ID point of view. It can certainly be a starting point to tell a story, and it would bring a very human element in a complicated machine that may even be considered boring by visitors. Can you imagine us inviting the visitors to: “Come and see an exhibit on drilling technologies!” We would get crowds no doubt… Yet, if you look at the fact that these machines are changing because of the enormous strain that they put on the people that use them, and some changes are actually made because of a very controversial involvement of Canadian mining companies in Africa – you get a very different story.

How will you interpret and exhibit design objects and industrial design? Will you include and integrate design objects and stories within existing exhibitions? Which kind of problems this approach can bring?
This is really difficult: there is a limit of 40-60 words per panel. Interpretative planner rewrites our texts, and public program people argue that the ideas are too difficult for our main public, families with children. Anything that is on the floor is a result of creative struggles, arguments and negotiations between museum departments. It is very important in my opinion to remember that Museums are not only about exhibiting. We collect, preserve, document, interpret and exhibit. That is really a crucial point that lots of people seem to be forgetting. It is important to ask what is the best medium to record and disseminate research on ID. It could be an exhibit floor, but it also could be an article, a conference paper, an internal research paper that is kept in the artifact file and accessible to researchers it could be element of an acquisition proposal that describe reasons behind an acquisition of an object for the collection; it could be library collection; it could be a web site. Even if these have different visibility and different audiences, all these ways of interpretation are in my opinion equal to the exhibit floor. They also do not exclude each other. In my opinion ID interpretation should be included in every step of curatorial work not only in the exhibit interpretation. Then even if we only say 40 words on design of an object in an exhibit, we still have a body of research available for the audiences interested in in-depth interpretation. Also when the data on ID is recorded in various steps that we take in the process of documentation, when the objects goes on the exhibit floor it will be much easier to apply the ID lens to its interpretation. I see a bit of challenge here though. I would not want the ID to become another box that needs to be checked, next to gender, multiculturalism, aboriginals – being very politically correct we have lots of this boxes in Canada… I am hoping to convince other curators to incorporate it to their philosophical approach rather than treat it as an element of documentation.
I want to raise one last point. Museum professionals believe that we can tell every story through an exhibit, every topic can be well expressed and explained in an exhibit. For a very long time we accepted this as true and we do not questions our assumption. But in my opinion, it is time to very seriously ask ourselves if the exhibit floor is the right medium for all topics. Perhaps some topics do not work under the limitations imposed by exhibits, or work better when expressed in a different format?

How do you plan to work in the next months or years?
I plan to be actively involved in acquisitions, but to act as a support for exhibits and research. I actually want to come up with a list of items that we should purchase because of their design. I also want to encourage other curators to incorporate the ID into their acquisition proposals. To do this, I will have to do a bulk of work, provide them with a template, and perhaps even write these parts of proposals myself, which may be time consuming, but is important. Research – I would like to set up a research plan with each curator and hire an ID student every year to conduct this research in our collections. I hope that I can convince a company to establish an internship or a scholarship. If we cannot get some funding for a student, I would suggest that each curator and assistant devotes some time in their workplan to ID research for the next 5 years until we build a body of knowledge. Exhibits – once we have research – it will be easy to incorporate it into exhibits. I cannot propose a large exhibit on ID for a good few years: we do not have the research done, we already have a very busy exhibit schedule and we do not have the money for another large exhibit (we can do 1 every 2 years).

Are you also considering to contact consultants (as design scholars or design curators) or to establish partnerships with other institutions dealing with design?
As I mentioned, partnership is very important. I would love to have design researchers here (depends on funds). I hope that in a near future we can have an ID exhibit on loan from another institution. Interpreting ID in a science and tech museum does not equal a lesser degree of understanding of ID, because ID experts will be involved alongside historians of technology.

What do you think about “boundaries” between museums and identities of museums?
I would happily argue with any curator from a design museum that we cannot separate design from technology, and that all the elements of ID are present in every pieces of technology that we have. The more public hears about design in various venues the more they learn.