Mieulx est de ris que de larmes escripre, pour ce que rire est le propre de l’homme
“It’s better to write about laughter than tears, because laughter is what humans do”
Rabelais, Gargantua
(Well there might be a few serious bits)
London is a wonderful city. It’s so full of museums that no-one can know about all of them, so you can constantly be surprised by new ones. On a recent visit a friend introduced me to Sir John Soane's museum in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. I was enchanted. Its plan is contrary to all the rules recommended for modern museum displays, but it’s great.
Sir John Soane was a successful architect in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. He also collected antiquities and paintings. He bought three adjoining houses in a Georgian terrace and filled them with his collection. When he fell out with his son and wanted to prevent him inheriting, he paid for a private Act of Parliament which gave the houses and their contents to the nation in perpetuity, and specified that nothing in their display should be changed at all. This means that the present museum is a warren of rooms opening out of each other. Some of them are filled in every corner with objects, others remain arranged as spacious living rooms with period furniture and rather nice paintings on the walls. There is a light well in the centre which runs through the three stories of the building from a skylight in the roof to the cellar. It is lined with shelves of antiquities and has a massive Egyptian sarcophagus at the bottom. There are tiny rooms the size of cupboards, also full of objects. The collection includes Greek and Roman antiquities, a copy of the Apollo Belvedere, the Egyptian sarcophagus, and bits of English medieval stonework. They are all closely packed into every available space, jumbled together without regard to date or provenance, and there is not a single label on any of the pieces. You have to look them up online. And it works! I can’t wait to go back.
My visit got me thinking about museum displays I have seen, and which I have loved or hated for various reasons. Of course different museums are aimed at different cohorts of visitors. Some are intended to be family-friendly, some are for visitors with a more specialist interest, and some are aimed at processing huge numbers of tourist groups who are coming just to get out of the rain and don’t actually have much interest in the past. (For this last group I would recommend a converted aircraft hangar with 12 artefacts, videos all round the walls, a coffee shop and a lot of toilets, rather than an actual museum. And call it “The [name of town] History Experience”).
Having no labels either works – or it doesn’t. About fifteen years ago I visited a museum in a large city in England which had a display of artefacts from Ancient Egypt in one of its galleries. They had attached the objects to the back of a showcase covering most of one wall of the gallery. The artefacts were excellent examples of their type but they hadn’t given them any descriptions at all, not even a one-word name, just a number. Either you had to buy a catalogue or you had to use the single computer at one end of the showcase. Needless to say, the computer was being monopolised by small children playing. And those were the days before smartphones and apps. I was involved at that time in schools work covering the Ancient Egyptians, so I found this rather disappointing. I knew what most of the objects were, but I would have liked to know how old they were and where they were found.
One of the best displays I can remember seeing was in a national museum I visited in the Far East. It had a large collection of 9th century CE Chinese stoneware dishes from a shipwreck. They could have put most of them into storage and only displayed a few of the best pieces. Instead they solved the problem most imaginatively by putting a few representative examples into display cases with explanations, and putting the rest onto a forest of Perspex ‘stalks’ standing up from the floor. Speaking as a visitor, I thought it was great. If you wanted the basic information it was there in the showcases, and if you wanted to examine more examples you could do that without having to write to an overworked curator and book an appointment in three months’ time. The display had a most attractive overall effect, and the ceramics were extremely beautiful.
Another major museum of my acquaintance at one time (long ago) summarised the entire Palaeolithic (Old Stone Age) period in Britain by displaying a single stone handaxe in a showcase with dramatic lighting. To my certain knowledge, because I had seen them with my own eyes, their basement was stuffed full of stone tools from a variety of classic Palaeolithic sites. The Old Stone Age covers just over 98% of British history. And they only showed one tool, as an art object.
When I was working I was always told that labels should be kept short and written for a reading age of twelve years old. This is apparently the reading age of the average Guardian newspaper reader. I have learned since then that the average reading age in Britain is eight years old, that of most Sun readers. A temporary exhibition in a museum that I visited in the last few years had pages of text on the walls beside the showcases, resulting in logjams of visitors standing in front of a single case for hours, solemnly reading each label. There is a happy medium between no labels at all and a wall-mounted textbook.
And disabled-friendly doesn’t just mean installing a stair lift. There are other disabilities. I have seen lengthy explanatory text, not just a few names in large font, on the wall behind a wide table-top case. “Visually impaired” visitors, i.e. anyone old enough to need reading glasses, had to keep putting their glasses on and off, or worse, switching from reading to distance glasses, as they tried to look at the objects and then find out about them. I saw one visitor bending over the showcase to get near enough to read the text, leaning their weight on the glass top…
I think the best panel text I have ever seen was in the on-site museum at Skara Brae, the Neolithic village in Orkney. Their labels differentiated clearly and simply between different kinds of evidence about each artefact. What the object was; what evidence, such as C14 date or food residues could be obtained from it; and what could be deduced from this evidence, such as date or diet, were stated in different sizes of type. I wish more museums would do that so that the general public could understand how we learn about the past from archaeological evidence, what is fact and what is an educated guess.
My research continues. Museums of the world, I'm still out there. Watch this space…
