Randolph Starn

A Historian's Brief Guide to New Museum Studies

In 1989, the editors of the first book on history museums in the United States complained about a "blanket of critical silence" surrounding the subject. In 1992, the British museum specialist Eilean Hooper-Greenhill observed that the museum as a historical institution had not received "any rigorous form of critical analysis." Other scholars and critics chimed in around the same time.¹ As it happened, a tidal wave of museum studies was just beginning to crest, many proclaiming critical agendas while complaining about their absence. The problem these days is how to navigate a flood of literature on the theory, practice, politics, and history of museums.

This should matter to historians. Museums and history are close kin, each with proprietary claims on gathering and interpreting materials from the past. By assembling objects outside everyday time and space, all museums are in some sense historical. According to some estimates, history museums and historic sites account for two of every three museums in this country; they are also the most widespread and accessible museum type, from the great public collections down to the small town's roomful of memorabilia. It is no stretch, except perhaps for our professional egos, to suppose that museums actually deliver more history, more effectively, more of the time, to more people than historians do. My guess is that many historians first got the itch for history from museums, surely more than from the textbooks they read at school. In today's conflicts over the purposes and means of representing the past, the museum has become (sometimes literally) the battlefield of choice.²

The fact remains that navigation aids to recent museum studies are few and far between.³ Sheer quantity is partly responsible for this, but so are the disconnects in the literature. Museum history is a case in point. Since the 1970s, history in the museum has become a thriving branch of public history, with publications and training programs aimed at museum work in public or corporate settings; academic historians, by and large more recently, have done important work on the cultural history of the museum. Even so, museum history is still written and taught primarily by museum professionals and people working in cultural and visual studies.⁴ There are good historical reasons, if not necessarily good excuses, for these divisions of labor. Since the late nineteenth century, museum work and historical scholarship, often overlapping and interconnected before then, have followed different professional tracks. The academic historians had their archives and documents, the museum curators their objects and aura. Discursive prose was history's main medium, the collection and the catalogue were the museum's. Although the monumental "temples," "palaces," or "castles" of the great nineteenth-century public museums towered over their seminar rooms, the historians outflanked the competition; from their newly won university positions they relegated museum specialists, archivists, and other "auxiliaries" or "amateurs" to subaltern status as occasionally useful technicians. These tribal divisions persist behind the smiling face of interdisciplinarity. It is a safe bet that museum workers are no more likely to read the AHR than academic historians are to read Museum News.⁵

More than a half century ago, a distinguished museum director was already worrying about the confusion of tongues that has actually come to pass in the newer museum studies.⁶ Besides museum professionals and historians, the contributors include art historians, social scientists, philosophers, cultural studies scholars, critics, and journalists. If museum goers proverbially know what they like, people who work in museums or write about them tend to like what they know by virtue of training and affililiation. More often than not, museum insiders—administrators, curators, conservation specialists, designers, development and education staff—do not see eye to eye, let alone see as critics, historians, or social theorists might. Outsiders do not need to worry about such mundane matters as budgets, security, staffing, storage, or plumbing. They are free to treat museums as subjects and objects of higher criticism, political agendas, narratives about the past, and visions of the future. The attractions are greater because issues that might otherwise seem abstract or academic look material and immediate on display—and because people can hardly resist holding forth on some spectacular new museum building, curatorial scandal, blockbuster show, or "undiscovered" little museum.

Following a good museum precedent, I offer here a vade mecum to the newer museum studies. It is a brief guide because selectivity is obviously necessary; it is desirable, too, at a time when a new anthology on the idea of the museum is eight hundred pages thick, and the latest textbook on "the changing role of the museum" reprints thirty-four essays under hard covers.⁷ I focus primarily on work that has appeared since the late 1980s in the United States, the United Kingdom and Commonwealth, and continental Europe insofar as it represents an influential and self-consciously "new" range of perspectives. To sort out and frame what I take to be the main issues and directions in this literature, I exhibit it (so to speak) in four sections, each with its particular theme: the genealogy of museums; the shifting status of the museum object; the politics of museum culture from the ideal of universality to "museum wars" over cultural difference; the past and future of the "museum experience." By way of conclusion, I suggest what the stakes are or should be for historians.

The newer studies constantly remind us that museums are not neutral. While they collect and conserve, classify and display, research and educate, they also deliver messages and make arguments, and so does this Brief Guide. It grows out of my own need to come to terms with dogmas about the relative or literal authority of the past that confront us, or are said to confront us, these days. My historian's instinct in the bright glare of ideas about objectivity, authenticity, and truth is to look at the historical institutions where physical evidence of the past is tested and organized, not just talked about.⁸ And this brings me to a further reason why museums should matter to historians. One recurrent and sometimes unintended lesson of the newer museum studies is that the dividing line between old and new practices and purposes is far from being sharp and fixed. This is not to say that today's challenges to the identity of the museum are merely déjà vu. If anything, the challenges mean that we can learn from seeing how transformations have come about (or not) in the past. The itinerary that follows is bound to be provisional given the pace of change in the museum world, but any worthwhile guide should encourage its users to go beyond it.

Until the 1980s, most museum history was written by museum professionals and a few interested amateurs telling a story of progress—or so it seemed in the wake of the revisionism that followed.⁹ The newer museum studies were resolutely historical yet ambivalent about history, at once committed to treating museums as historical institutions and skeptical about histories of their development. As a result the history of an institution has given way to its multiple genealogies.

The initiative for rewriting museum history did not come from historians but from an insurgency in the museum world. In 1985, the journal of the International Council of Museums editorialized nervously about a New Museology in France, "a movement of criticism and reform incorporating new developments in the social and human sciences with the aim of revitalizing techniques of display, exhibition, and communication, and, ultimately, altering traditional relationships between the institution [of the museum] and the public."¹⁰ Toward the end of the decade, a group of British museum specialists and cultural studies scholars published The New Museology, a collection of essays ranging from the status of museum objects to ways of experiencing them. The connecting link, according to editor Peter Vergo, was "widespread dissatisfaction with the 'old museology,' both within and outside the museum profession in that it is too much about museum methods and too little about the purposes of museums; that museology has in the past only infrequently been seen, if it has been seen at all, as a theoretical or humanistic discipline; and that the kinds of questions raised about the development of the museum have been all too rarely articulated, let alone discussed."¹¹

When the "old museology" was still new, Scottish archaeologist and bibliophile David Murray, in an exuberant charter text, had saluted the triumph of a new era of scientific description, classification, and explanation over a jumbled and credulous past.¹² For all its keenness to censure much less blatant cheerleading than this, the New Museology echoed the idea of breaking with the past, together with the implication that the history of museums was not steady and continuous. The radical new extension was to single out differences to the point of dissolving the museum as a coherent subject. In a nice instance of radical propositions turned mainstream, this view has become a dominant one in museum studies. To quote a knowledgeable writer who is otherwise quite critical of new directions in museum studies, "institutions now called museums have family resemblances to one another, but they share neither a common history nor a common cause."¹³

Far from putting historically minded museum scholars out of work, the emphasis on difference and diversity multiplied their opportunities as museum history devolved into multiple genealogies for a promiscuous breed of institutions. Of course the genealogical approach has a genealogy of its own. As a critical method descending from Friedrich Nietzsche on through Michel Foucault, Nietzsche's self-proclaimed heir as genealogist or archeologist of culture and institutions, it fosters counter-histories and, though this aspect usually goes unremarked, counter-myths to the unifying forces, factors, and directions of conventional historiography. Foucault himself paid scant attention to museums, but, by the late 1980s, they were grafted into his analyses of genealogies of power and knowledge for asylums, hospitals, and prisons.¹⁴

One of the first full-fledged demonstrations of this interpretative strategy was Eilean Hooper-Greenhill's Museums and the Shaping of Knowledge, several times reprinted since its appearance in 1992. "[I]nstead of attempting to find generalisations and unities," Hooper-Greenhill proposed "to look for differences, for change, and for rupture."¹⁵ This "effective history" as distinct from the "normal history" of progressive development would clear the way to a full appreciation for the array of alternative practices that the old teleological accounts had glossed over or suppressed. On the model of Foucault's templates of successive formations of power and knowledge (the famous "epistemes"), Hooper-Greenhill discussed a succession of sites of collection and display—the Medici Palace in Florence; the Renaissance Wunderkammer or Cabinet of Curiosities (see Fig. 1) the natural history collections of the seventeenth century, particularly the Repository of the Royal Society in England; and the modern "Disciplinary Museum" for which the postrevolutionary Louvre was the prototype.¹⁶ The result is not a connected museum history, let alone a history of "the" museum. It is rather a kind of genealogical chart of the shifting constellations of epistemology and authority governing the collection of material objects.

Figure 1. A Baroque "Cabinet of Curiosities": frontispiece engraving by G. Mitelli in Lorenzo Legati, Museo Cospiano annesso a quello del famoso Ulisse Aldrovandi e donato alla sua patria dall'illustrissimo Signor Ferdinando Cospi (Bologna, 1677). Reproduced with kind permission of the Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley.

Even though it branded previous histories too dismissively as "ineffective history," the Foucauldian turn inspired fresh investigation of the multiple cultural and political investments of collecting and its institutions across time. However, Hooper-Greenhill's work also underscored the liabilities of this agenda, not least when contradicting some of its own guiding principles. With a hardening of the categories, the stress on contingency tended to become a necessity, and propositions critical of orthodoxies became themselves dogmatic. In insisting on material interests, on the power side of a binomial equation as if it foreclosed the knowledge side, Hooper-Greenhill's analyses were more reductive than Foucault's. Despite the critique of teleological plotting in museum history, her book culminates in a Whiggish teleology turned upside down. Of the modern "Disciplinary Museum" fully realized in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Hooper-Greenhill writes in a near-parody of Foucault that "its seriated public spaces, surveyed and controlled, where knowledge is offered for passive consumption, are emblematic of the museum as one of the apparatuses that created 'docile bodies' through disciplinary technologies."¹⁷ Australian cultural studies scholar Tony Bennett argues for a more benign reading of "the exhibitionary complex" installed in "the modern public museum." It was "disciplinary" too, but "in seeking to render the forces and principles of order visible ... it open[ed] objects to more public contexts of inspection and visibility" with the aim of producing "a voluntary, self-regulating citizenry."¹⁸ This expressly liberal account has not prevailed. Art critic Douglas Crimp condemned the modern art museum as one more "institution of confinement"; for having insulated art from the material conditions and creative ferment of its making, the modern temple of art deserves its postmodern fate as a lifeless ruin.¹⁹ In what must be the furthest stretch of Foucault, Timothy W. Luke has recently asserted that the ever-increasing role of entertainment in museums "has powerful carceral implications that suggest a practice of containment and confinement."²⁰

One reason for the complaining chorus is itself genealogical: inbreeding. Introducing a self-consciously venturesome collection of conference papers published in 1994, Daniel J. Sherman and Irit Rogoff referred to a "shared intellectual formation" and "a coming of age of a broad range of critical analyses [that] have converged on the museum." More than breadth, however, the phrasing suggests convergence on the order of a concerted assault. The preferred strategy was "unmasking" to show "not only that museums have a history but that their enterprise entails an attempt to conceal it."²¹ In a shrewdly mischievous review of this and two other related collections of essays, Ivan Gaskell turns the strategy back on itself to unmask what he calls "naïve outrage" and "museophobia."²² Even moderately experienced museum goers, he supposes (he is himself an art historian, historian, and museum curator), know well enough that museums are not reliably transparent or disinterested institutions any more than, say, universities are. We would not have needed a cluster of canonical critics, such as Foucault, Theodor Adorno, and Walter Benjamin, to make this point. If anything, Gaskell suggests, formulaic critiques of "the museum" as the creature of "hegemonic capitalism" have themselves begun to look like museum exhibits. He singles out in particular Adorno's slight but disproportionately influential essay "The Valéry Proust Museum," with its wordplay on museums as mausoleums, "family sepulchres of works of art" that embalm the accumulation of capital in showily useless forms, thereby embodying its allure and obfuscating its dominion.²³ But as Neil Harris, pioneering the history of American museum culture, pointed out years ago, Gilded Age capitalists, not to mention their Renaissance forebears, had little to learn about such uses of useless forms of capital.²⁴ There is not much to unmask in Joseph C. Choate's 1880 exhortation to "ye capitalists" as patrons of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York:

[Consider] the glory and better fortune that may yet be yours, if you only listen to our advice to convert pork into porcelain, grain and produce into priceless pottery ... and railroad shares ... into the glorified canvas of the world's masters, that shall adorn these walls for centuries. The rage of Wall Street is to hunt the philosopher's stone, to convert all baser things into gold, which is but dross; but ours is the higher ambition to convert your useless gold into things of beauty.²⁵

Fortunately, genealogies have, in their multiple forks and branches, remedies for reductive hypotheses. The ramifications of the new museum studies are too complex, dynamic, and indeed historical to be boxed in tightly. In myths of origins, the muses on Mount Parnassus were already jockeying for position; we know for certain that Alexandria's Ur-museum, "the precinct of the muses," was not only a library but also a combination of temple, mausoleum, treasury, and research center.²⁶ Paula Findlen's studies of early modern collecting have shown how the term "museum" became a metaphor for the collection and display of knowledge before it became an actual location; in fluid Renaissance usage deriving from humanist scholarship on Greek and Roman antiquity, a museum could just as well be an idea or a book as a room or a building.²⁷ As late as the 1820s, plans for Berlin's Altes Museum, soon to be a model national museum, elicited earnest controversies over its name—whether it should not rather be called a monument, treasury, studio, or academy.²⁸

Even the common wisdom that the nineteenth century was "the century of the museum" has run into the genealogical complication that museum types proliferated within, alongside, and beyond the "modern public museum." (See Fig. 2.) A number of studies have reinstated international exhibitions, fairs, and department stores—once lopped off the museum's family tree for their unseemly mix of commerce, culture, and entertainment—as a major inspiration for the organization and display of museum material in the later nineteenth century.²⁹ The strenuously monumental exertions of so much museum architecture obviously had much to compensate for. In a concise 1895 manual on museum administration, Smithsonian Secretary George Brown Goode defined the goals of "the modern Museum idea" as advancement of learning, public accessibility, and systematic arrangement but then went on to show just how many-sided its aims were. He divided museums into two types according to contents, from art to zoology, and according to intended public, from national to private. Next he observed that a museum may fulfill any or all of a number of purposes—propagating knowledge, preserving the record, serving the classroom and the lecture hall, making a "Bureau of Information" available for "the occasional enquirer, laboring man, schoolboy, journalist, public speaker or savant." Some of Brown Goode's principles are as provocative today as they ever were; for example, "A finished Museum is a dead museum, and a dead museum is a useless museum."³⁰ Historian George Stocking's conclusion for anthropology's "Museum Period," 1840–1900, seems to fit "the modern Museum idea" more generally: "it is hard to locate the historical moment [when] the institutional moment of the museum was not intensely problematic."³¹

Figure 2. A Prototype of the Modern Survey Museum: Christian von Mechel's 1781 Plan for the Belvedere Picture Gallery in Vienna engraved by Philip Gottfried Pintz in Christian von Mechel, Verzeichniss der Gemälde der kaiserlich königlichen Bilder Gallerie in Wien ... 1781 (Vienna, 1783), Plate 1. Reproduced with kind permission of the Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley.

Certainly the rise of national museums to the top rung of the museum hierarchy in the nineteenth century was neither linear, uniform, nor consistent. Brown Goode made much of an Anglo-American scenario celebrating a happy union of private benefaction and public reform with "rational recreation" and "moral uplift" for the working classes.³² The French paradigm of the centralized state museum had precedents going back, in good Tocquevillian fashion, to the ancien régime well before its national reconfiguration in the wake of the Revolution.³³ However, the French paradigm is as much a historiographical as a historical construction, a product of narratives centered on the state in some proportion to the real and imagined centrifugal pressures that have threatened it. Daniel J. Sherman has further complicated the picture by documenting the pull of local interests and the policy of distributing artworks from Paris to provincial museums throughout the nineteenth century.³⁴

There were many national variations in any case. As historians Susan A. Crane and James J. Sheehan have shown in exemplary studies of the development of a national museum culture, the Germanies before unification in 1871 generated any number of museum types, often intertwined with one another. The German National Museum in Nürnberg (1852), established before German unification, was a hybrid institution. To consolidate, museum officials had both to depend on and to outmaneuver local collectors, learned associations, civic promoters, and princely patrons; as a result, centralizing aspirations were strong and Prussian models of state control all the more thoroughgoing.³⁵ Elsewhere in Europe, the National Museum of Poland (1862), predating a Polish national state, was partly housed in Switzerland. An Italian National Museum was founded in Turin in 1878, nearly a decade after Italian unification, and the national system of museum administration in Italy, though often overlooked in surveys of museum history, remains the most highly developed—and bureaucratically intricate—in the world. Beginning in 1922 with the International Museums Office associated with the Committee on Intellectual Cooperation of the League of Nations, transnational museum organizations have been organized mostly by national and therefore highly diverse memberships.³⁶

Scrambling lines of descent still further, opposing agendas and controversies are part and parcel of the museum's development, not an untoward aberration. They are better followed in older works insofar as newer museum studies tend to treat "the modern public museum" as a fixed type, not to say a straw man. Alma S. Wittlin counts three phases of "reform" projects and any number of variations since the mid-nineteenth century.³⁷ In the Golden Age of the public museum before World War I centralization, specialization, and classification were watchwords, but this period also saw a quantum leap in the number and range of the museum-going public. The growth of large public museums in many instances facilitated rather than preempted the work of local museums by setting an example and encouraging loans and exchanges. However grasping in other respects, great capitalists were the most generous benefactors of the new public museums. Wittlin distinguishes a second period between the world wars when educating the public became the focus of reform and at the same time of bitter opposition. Critics claiming a speciously venerable pedigree fumed over a "Philistine victory," an "atrophy of perception in Anglo-Saxons," the illusion of "thinking educational effort the panacea for all the ills of society."³⁸ Wittlin characterizes a third period from 1945 until the time of her writing in the late 1960s as a time of "search and conflict, of gestation, achievement, and deadlock such as museums have never known before."³⁹ Her inventory of postwar trends reads like an agenda for the sharpest museum critics since the 1980s. Initiatives later touted as new departures against resistance and inertia had many precedents, including complaints about resistance and inertia.⁴⁰

An old museum hand concluded some years ago that "the history of the museum is a pious fraud."⁴¹ Stephen E. Weil's epigram suits our itinerary so far. It has a working demonstration in David Wilson and his associates' Museum of Jurassic Technology in Venice, California. This parodic assembly of museum displays has become a three-star attraction for students and critics of museums since its opening in 1989. Susan A. Crane, summing up, delivers something like a genealogical epiphany:

The Museum of Jurassic Technology can simultaneously exist as an art installation, curiosity cabinet, museum of museums, fact and fiction—a cabinet, moreover, that uses its collection of museum exhibits as witnesses to museums past, artifacts of the evolving narrative of the history of museums.⁴²

Whether and how such a narrative can be pieced together again, piously or not, is a major question facing present and future students of museums and their history.

In the conventional wisdom, "the object" is primary material that museums convert into a lasting cultural good through collection, classification, conservation, and exhibition. A move that the new museum studies share with recent historians of material culture is to de-materialize objects as mere semiotic indicators or to re-materialize them in social, political, and economic contexts, or to do both. One way or another, objects are not supposed "to speak for themselves" but are spoken for. They are "reticent," awaiting their ventriloquists; or, in a deliberate oxymoron, they are "discursive objects" or "rhetorical objects," which is to say subjects of shifting semantic fields.⁴³ The theory-wielding newer studies have taken a lion's share of credit or blame for the displacement or even dissolution of objects into discourse. There is a triumphalist tone to visual studies theorist and critic Mieke Bal's pronouncement that museum professionals have learned to accept "the idea that a museum is a discourse, and an exhibition an utterance within that discourse."⁴⁴ Here again, however, the case is not closed, and since old echoes resound in the new lexicon, new confrontations can also be understood at least in part as the confirmation of what had been routine museum practice all along.

Historian Steven Conn provides a benchmark account of the museum as the institutional setting of an "object-based epistemology."⁴⁵ Its heyday came in the last quarter of the nineteenth century, from natural history and anthropology museums to museums of history and art; as early as the 1920s it had lost pride of place to the theoretical, experimental, and text-oriented production of knowledge centered in universities. Conn's most telling insight is that what looks at first like naive object-based materialism was not strictly object-bound. Smithsonian Secretary Brown Goode suggested just the opposite in a much-quoted maxim: "An efficient educational museum may be described as a collection of instructive labels, each illustrated by a well-selected specimen." Tony Bennett quotes contemporary British museum administrators to the same effect: specimens were to be appended to texts rather than the other way around.⁴⁶ The reigning assumption was that "objects could tell stories to 'the untrained observer'": they were "visual sentences" backed up by a metanarrative of "evolutionary progress ... from simple to complex, from savage to civilized, from ancient to modern."⁴⁷ Narrative trajectories of this sort were meant to be informative and performative, guides to discovery and scripts for progressive understanding. Material things could not produce these results on their own.

Though limited to museums in the United States from 1876–1926, from the centennial to the sesquicentennial of American independence, Conn's study points to the problematic status of objects in the old museology and the new. This is not surprising. Objects are remarkably unobjective subjects, if we mean by objective stable, self-sufficient, or self-explanatory; they can be thought of as things, as modes of being, or, as in medieval philosophy, the "objects" of God's creation that we would call subjects. The most intense and arguably most profound debates about museum objects date from the period of the French Revolution. Between 1789 and Napoleon's campaigns of plunder and confiscation—"liberation" in revolutionary parlance—it was by no means a foregone conclusion that museums would prevail over vandalism, auctioneering, or indifference. The bibliography on the eventual triumph of the public museum in France is the fullest dossier we have on the new or vastly enlarged public museums of Europe during their formative years in the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.⁴⁸

The French art world polymath Antoine-Chrysostome Quatremère de Quincy and no less a philosopher than Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel elaborated opposing philosophies of "museification." Already in the 1790s, Quatremère had come to the unsettling realization that the amassing of cultural treasures by conquering French armies amounted to an assault on culture and history, a desecration and not a deliverance. It was a political hoax to proclaim that looting served the cause of civilization and enlightenment. Even if museums opened to a citizen-public the preserves of a privileged few, the museum "kills art to make history" by wrenching works of art out of their original context. Quatremère had developed a full-scale critique along these lines by 1806 but published it after the Restoration in 1815, when it was relatively safe. His position has dominated a modern lament over the complicity of the museum in the divorce between art and experience. Didier Maleuvre summarizes:

Loss of context, loss of cultural meaning, destruction of a direct connection with life, promotion of an esthetically alienated mode of observation, instigation of a passive attitude toward the past and of a debilitating mood of nostalgia—the museum seemed to embody these ills of the modern age, an age that, by its own account, had forsaken the immanent ties with tradition that had blessed every previous era.⁴⁹

In his lectures on the Phenomenology of Spirit, Hegel seems at first (and, writing in 1807, independently) to concur with Quatremère. Maleuvre quotes the passage in which the philosopher refers to ancient artifacts newly imprisoned in "an intricate scaffolding of the dead elements of their outward existence—the language, the historical circumstances, etc. in place of the inner elements of the ethical life which environed, created, and inspired them."⁵⁰ But then, reversing himself (and Quatremère), Hegel goes on to argue that the relationship between an art work and its original milieu is superficial; instead of being alienated by passing through time and space, art is perfected as an object of conscious understanding by being removed from its original setting and put in a place for contemplation and study. Thus, as Maleuvre puts it, "antiquity is more genuinely itself in the British Museum than in the temple at Paestum."⁵¹ The immediacy and immanence whose loss Quatremère mourned must be transcended. On this account museums not only preserve objects, they endow them with cultural coherence and value.

Over the long term, the argument between Quatremère and Hegel has refused to go away. The idea that the museum objects take on another, higher life as discursive subjects represents a Hegelian tilt in the newer museum studies; hostility toward the museum as a collection of lifeless objects is the Quatremèrian riposte. But on an altogether mundane level we have grown accustomed to seeing older museum collections transformed, new museums opening, traveling museum shows coming and going, museum objects taking on different meanings as they are rearranged, restored, or removed from some familiar place. The "permanent collection" sounds increasingly like wishful thinking or a joke. The newer museum studies underscore an object lesson that all but the most casual museum visitors have already learned—and are likely to resent when some favorite piece is involved. "Anyone who has attended closely to the movement of artefacts in a museum," observed Charles Saumarez Smith when he was assistant keeper at that great treasure trove, the Victoria and Albert Museum, London, "will understand that the assumption that, in a museum, artefacts are somehow static, safe and out of the territory in which their meaning and use can be transformed is demonstrably false."⁵² Change the label and the surroundings and an object takes on a new significance. Museum donors and benefactors may specify conditions into perpetuity, but the binding clauses of bequests that survive time, trustees, lawyers, and changes in taste are the exception not the rule. In the irreverent quip of a former director of the Musée D'Orsay in Paris, "Trying out paintings on walls" is the painting curator's best "museum science."⁵³

Saumarez Smith raises the key point: "What is the most important consistent property in determining the form of an object?" He goes on to recast his question in terms of a choice between "intrinsic" and "extrinsic" properties:

Is it the intrinsic physical properties of the object, the material from which it is made, the way the body is manipulated and structured according to the inherent skills of craftsmanship or technique? Or is it rather the extrinsic circumstances of the surrounding culture, the demands of the client and the ruling aesthetic of a particular period?⁵⁴

Depending on the context, we can answer either way. Yet the newer museum studies show, sometimes in spite of themselves, that we usually have it both ways. While museum theory and practice have periodically tipped to more "intrinsic" or more "extrinsic" extremes, one view may entail the other, as we have seen, in Steven Conn's analysis of "object-based epistemology" and the periodic flare-up of the argument between Quatremère and Hegel. Conn's nostalgia over the loss of the museum object's authority is probably premature in any case: "while objects may no longer function epistemologically, they can still function—for me at any rate—magically."⁵⁵ Consigning material things to immaterial networks of interpretation renders their inarticulate presence all the more mysterious or "magical." Paradoxically, the displacement of objects into discourse may also re-enchant them.

There are signs of a return or, it has been said, a "revenge" of the object. The material expertise of the connoisseur, curator, restorer, or museum scientist remains a bottom line in museum work. While critics may deride the technicians for tunnel vision or simply ignore them, the demand for their specialized knowledge has increased as a result of technological innovations, market forces escalating values, and public controversies over accountability and authenticity. "Materials memory" is one of the newer formulations of a form of recollection that resides in the workmanship, alterations, or patterns of wear in the materials that people make and use over time. A corollary of the recent fascination with collective memory, this notion contrasts embodied, nonlinear deposits of memory with the more or less abstract unfolding of historiographical narrative; in one form or another, the contrast has inspired the recovery or outright construction of alternative histories for marginalized or excluded groups. Over and against the idea that objects are the passive registers of symbolic meanings or exchange values, some revisionist thinking in anthropology stresses their material specificity as things with inalienable pasts.⁵⁶

This revisionist enterprise has real-world consequences in the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (1990) in the United States and comparable initiatives in the interests of native people elsewhere, particularly in Canada and Australia. Statutes of this sort have written into law the view that objects are bearers and witnesses of values past and present, not just their signifiers or specimens. Where it is possible to establish legitimate claims, the legislation mandates the restitution to native groups of human remains and material goods "collected" by institutions such as ethnographic or local history museums. Predictably enough, enforcement has met institutional resistance in the name of public interest, scholarship, and science. Between extremes, however, many creative accommodations have emerged: exchanges and loans of objects between museums and tribal groups; exhibitions and workshops bringing together museum professionals and "community curators"; the revival or adaptive reuse of techniques and traditions. Critics argue that the results are forced, inauthentic, and evasive, but this line of criticism tends to attribute a purity to cultural objects that the chipped glaze, the torn thread, or the worn surface insistently belie.⁵⁷ It is quite possible to imagine some future version of this Brief Guide suggesting that museum studies had turned—or returned—from the primacy of discourse to the priority of object.

If the "universal survey" was the highest ideal of the great public museums, partiality, in all senses of the word, is a major theme and preoccupation of the newer museum studies. Exhibiting Cultures, a collection of papers from a landmark conference held at the Smithsonian Institution and published in 1991, opened with the editors' essay on museums and cultural difference. In this introduction, Ivan Karp and Steven D. Lavine discuss a 1987 exhibition of Hispanic art at the Museum of Arts, Houston, where "the exhibition strategy reflect[ed] good current thinking about the nature of pluralism." Somewhere between forbearance and frustration they conclude that "no matter how the exhibition was organized, it would have been disputed" because "the subject matter inevitably was open to multiple responses ... [m]useums attempting to act responsibly in complex, multicultural environments are bound to find themselves enmeshed in controversy."⁵⁸ Nearly ten years later, the Smithsonian produced a volume of articles on recent exhibitions to coincide with its one-hundred-fiftieth anniversary. The title this time was Exhibiting Dilemmas, hardly a cue for celebration; the articles, all by Smithsonian curators, are mostly about beleaguered choices. "Museum wars" had become a kind of Western Front of the "culture wars" with no end in sight beyond a whole genre of case studies and casebooks on the latest battles.⁵⁹

Since the exhibit is a professional unit of reckoning, museum workers are at home with this genre.⁶⁰ The Smithsonian curators' dilemmas turn out to be mostly on-the-job issues, however much intensified by rising and often conflicting expectations from administrators, patrons, and publics. Their dilemmas are grounded in specific cases rather like minefields are grounded. So, for example, to obtain the centerpiece of an exhibit at the National Museum of American History featuring the Woolworth's lunch counter of the historic 1960 sit-in in Greensboro, North Carolina, the curators had to negotiate with corporate executives, city government and community groups, an ad hoc African-American association promoting its own museum in the Woolworth's building, a carpenters' union, and not least their Smithsonian colleagues, because exhibition space was limited in the museum's crowded Political History Hall.⁶¹ Another collection of curators' papers, Making Histories in Museums, revolves around British and Commonwealth history museums, from medical and agricultural to minority and childhood museums. The title is a gentle teaser. The authors do not want to argue that history is merely made up. Their aim, according to editor Gaynor Kavanaugh, was "to open museums to braver and better researched histories presented with great imagination and real regard for visitors." These were fighting words in the wake of a national row over the so-called "heritage industry"—whether the fixation on historic preservation in Margaret Thatcher's Britain was pandering to nostalgia for empire and the privileges of class.⁶²

Academics outside the museum tend to reduce the issues of representing difference to power struggles. In the introduction to Displays of Power, media scholar Steven Dubin declares that "symbolic politics is replacing realpolitik," then announces that the stories he will be telling about U.S. museum controversies "are stories about power: losing it and gaining it, exercising it and resisting it."⁶³ Shades of Foucault notwithstanding, when it comes to explanations, Dubin is a robust, certainly an un-Foucauldian social functionalist; conflict over the representation of social identities in museums and elsewhere has broken out, he suggests, because the relative status of different groups is in flux. With explicit bows to Foucault, "power" in American museums is also political scientist Timothy W. Luke's keyword in his Museum Politics, from his subtitle—Power Plays at the Exhibition—to his conclusion. The "single, theoretically unified critique" with which the book ends is actually a composite of critiques of late capitalism and neo-liberalism tagged onto the proposition that "museums can pull together publics and their knowledge of culture, history, nature, or technology in ways that artfully mediate the power of those governing the people and their things."⁶⁴ That museums may do many other things besides, among them inspiring this criticism, is evidently not on Luke's agenda.

Once they get past formulas, Dubin and Luke chronicle between them some twenty contested museum sites or exhibitions in the United States. Dubin goes back to the Metropolitan Museum of Art's "Harlem on my Mind" (1969) as a forerunner of later conflicts. The scenario is depressingly familiar: breaches along ethnic, generational, and ideological lines; a "revolt of the exhibited" against a well-intentioned but uncomprehending museum staff; minorities mobilized, Us vs. Them, against the "establishment"; an opportunistic press spoiling for a fight and a story.⁶⁵ While patterns recur, the calculus changes from one case to another. Dubin's interviews with some fifty veteran museum warriors are illuminating in this respect, and so are Luke's chapters comparing museums or exhibitions.⁶⁶ Dubin concludes that "social and corporate elites, 'knowledge workers,' and community-based groups struggle in various combinations"; and that temperament and training matter as much to the outcome as institutional structures.⁶⁷ Since charges of misrepresentation fly fast and loose in these confrontations, it is all the more important that they not be represented as if the dynamics of "power" were essentially the same.

The Enola Gay affair is instructive here—the ominously cumbersome working title of the exhibition planned for the National Air and Space Museum was "The Crossroads: The End of World War II, the Atomic Bomb and the Origins of the Cold War." The literature is huge, much of it with a partisan edge; "denying history" is one of the milder imputations of a multitude of sins.⁶⁸ "Left revisionism" supposedly played up the role of racism and to the loss and suffering of the victims at Hiroshima; "rejectionists" supposedly traded historical understanding for commemoration and patriotic celebration. This is not the place to rehearse the details, except to note that the devil surely lay more in the stereotypes than in the details. Former Air Force historian Richard H. Kohn identifies at least five "separate stories" criss-crossing one another. They include long-standing disagreements over the Hiroshima bombing before and after the event; the slate of "culture wars" in the early 1990s; skirmishes over turf among museum staff and military and civilian interest groups; the coincidence of a newly appointed Smithsonian secretary and an aggressive new Republican majority in congress. Other fissures appeared within larger alignments; for example, some veterans' groups worked with the museum and deplored the cancellation of the show.⁶⁹ These mini-histories are good remedies for bouts of Manichean dualism.

Museums of ethnography and natural history were another front in the "museum wars."⁷⁰ Until the 1980s, they were comfortably authoritative, rather dusty islands in the museum archipelago. But tensions were built into their institutional profile: scientific authority and showmanship; objectivity and racial and cultural preferences; specimens and spoils; disciplined curiosity and habits of condescension and exclusion—the list could go on. A more demanding, more mobile, and increasingly heterogeneous public put these uneasy compromises under pressure; critics in the museum world and the academy exposed them with relish, often with a self-satisfaction that such vulnerable targets hardly warranted. The explosive mix of identity politics and academic scrutiny reached critical mass in hostile reactions to the Modern Museum of Art's (MOMA) 1984 exhibition "Primitivism in 20th Century Art: Affinity of the Tribal and Modern" and the spate of events, including museum shows, commemorating Columbus's 1492 voyage—"discovery," "invasion," "genocide," or "exchange," according to the point of view.⁷¹

The ambiguous protagonist of these critiques was that intimate alien, the Other. One strand of criticism ran through variations on Edward Said's books on "orientalism" and the culture of imperialism. The museum connection was particularly apposite because Said had made a point of the Western construction of an alluring but dangerous exotic "East" that found legitimacy in scholarly collecting and classification—just as museums did.⁷² Another thread of criticism ran through social studies of science and technology (SSST), with their historical and ideological critique of objectivity in science. In 1985, Donna Haraway, a trained biologist working as a feminist theorist and ethnographer of contemporary culture, published a close-grained, paradigm-making essay on the African Mammals Hall in the American Museum of Natural History in New York. The dioramas of stuffed animals staged to celebrate the virtues of patriarchy, empire, and make-believe nature would never look so "real" again.⁷³ A loose union of anthropology and art history opened the way to further analysis of the category of the "natural." If "primitive art" was close to nature, it was, in what became the orthodox account, only because the West needed it to be so as at once an escape from its own enervation and a confirmation of Western superiority. In these analyses, as elsewhere in the newer museum studies, feminist critics gendered the family of man.⁷⁴

Museums have responded more or less effectively to assertions of difference, certainly more effectively than critics like to admit, let alone approve of. As crises over "sensitive" materials became practically routine, the Australian National Museum in Sydney and the Science Museum of Minnesota formed, in 1993, "rapid response" and "protest response" teams and task forces. Security is a bottom line, but "crisis management" also anticipates and incorporates objections by "product testing" with community outreach and focus groups.⁷⁵ Another response, the "collaborative exhibit," solicits the participation of a collection or exhibition's "stakeholders," sometimes in conjunction with negotiations for the restitution of objects to groups with claims on them. Over and against implied omniscience and actual anonymity, the "perspectival exhibition" specifies the point of view and identifies the responsible curatorial staff. These initiatives jostle unevenly with liberal and professional ideals of "balance" enjoining both respect for cultural differences and consensual standards.⁷⁶

While the new wave of museum studies was still gaining momentum, a well-informed and not unsympathetic reviewer commented, "We have reached the limits of one thousand flowers blooming."⁷⁷ The limits have proved both less and more constraining than she may have supposed. Museums, museum-like institutions, collections, and exhibits have gone on multiplying, sprouting off from or against established institutions. (See Fig. 3.) Rather than withering with globalization, they have blossomed more than ever, depending on the theory, as an unintended consequence, a cover for political control and capitalist market penetration, or a site of productive resistance to the leveling pressures of capitalism and technology. As for limits, the appeal to pluralism has turned orthodox with its own variations on the jargon of "multiculturalism," "polyvocality," "decentering," "reflexivity," or "hybridity." Budgetary stringency and stiff competition in the culture marketplace have dramatically increased since the 1990s. The benefits of more specialized, more culturally diverse museums have run up against the liabilities of the withdrawal of broad-based public support. By licensing incommensurability or by striving for balance that may result in obscuring or trivializing difference and fail to satisfy anyway, the pluralist solution has become part of the problem.⁷⁸ In a recent anthology, Annie E. Coombes and Avtar Brah offer a powerful assessment of the pitfalls of celebrating cultural hybrids.⁷⁹ Thomas F. Gieryn gives a sobering account of striving for "balance" in a close analysis of the disputes over the Enola Gay and the National Museum of American History's 1994 exhibition "Science in American Life." He learned that the mantle of fairness, trust, and credibility was the prize in a tug-of-war; the frank recognition that there were "multiple epistemic communities" played into the hands of the most partisan contenders. Gieryn ends up "depressed by the realization that none of our sometimes well-intentioned rhetorical weapons (objectivity, interpretative skill, dispassion) are fail-safe in convincing everybody else to accept our stories over different ones better aligned with their interests and faiths ... , and cheered only the score at half-time: a one to one draw."⁸⁰

Figure 3. Postmodern Museology: Virtual Tour of the Oxford University Museum of Natural History, Home Page (http:www.chem.ox.ac.uk/oxfordtour/universitymuseum). Reproduced with kind permission of the Oxford Museum of Natural History. "Virtual visitors" can view the museum online from nineteen different vantage points. Courtesy of Karl Harrison, Oxford University.

James Clifford's adaptation of the notion of "contact zones" to museums is an unflinching and perhaps the most cogent attempt to square the circle of universality and difference. Culture critic Mary Louise Pratt defines a contact zone as "the space in which peoples geographically and historically separated come into contact with each other and establish ongoing relations, usually involving conditions of coercion, radical inequality, and intractable conflict."⁸¹ Clifford takes off from there to argue that museums can be seen as sites of "an ongoing historical, political, moral relationship—a power-charged set of exchanges, of push and pull." Since such exchanges are not symmetrical or homogeneous on either side, smoothly controlled from the top down or uniformly resisted from the bottom up, "community experience" and "curatorial authority" have no preemptive rights. "By thinking of their mission as contact work—decentered and traversed by cultural and political negotiations that are out of any imagined community's control—museums may begin to grapple with the real difficulties of dialogue, alliance, inequality, and translation."⁸² And in doing this, our itinerary so far will suggest, museums will be drawing on the mixed identities, functions, and values they have long since accommodated over time.

As much as difference and dissension, the newer museum studies are preoccupied with dilution and distraction. This is a museum variation on historians' worries about historical amnesia, the speeding up of time, and the impact of new technologies, not to mention a sluggish job market. With museums updating themselves as cultural marketplaces, anchors of redevelopment projects, public service centers, and architectural showplaces, these preoccupations are all the more intense. The most common complaints inside the museum world are that authority has shifted away from curators to the design, outreach, and development staff; that the blockbuster show has turned into a media circus, a funding device, and a business deal; that museums have sold their souls to a global network of infotainment and, slightly better perhaps, edutainment. According to visitor surveys, the public is hard pressed to tell the difference between museums, exhibits in department stores or airports, and historic districts, or theme parks.⁸³

How, when, and indeed whether "the museum experience" has changed or should change is at the center of such concerns. Hilde S. Hein, a philosopher with considerable museum experience, maintains that we are in the midst of a "conceptual revolution ... that calls into question the very premises on which museums were grounded." She means by this a devaluation of the museum's collections as the source of "real meaning and value ... , leaving behind waves of interpretation, affect, and experience."⁸⁴ While acknowledging contemporary theories—the "hyperreality" of Umberto Eco, the "society of the spectacle" of Guy Debord, the "simulacra" and "demise of reference" of Jean Baudrillard—Hein roots the changes she identifies in a long tradition. She points out that "virtual reality" is a Neoplatonic expression for "as-if" effects. That "[a]ctual objects thus seem superfluous to the experience of their reality ... ," Hein archly notes, is "a hypothesis long entertained by mystics and visionaries." Under the spell of this idea, today's museums have "shift[ed] their allegiance from real objects to real experience."⁸⁵ Working against the grain, Hein thinks this is a very bad idea and wields the club of the "real" with more force than it can sustain after two or more decades of critical probing.

However, practically everyone agrees that "experience" is a priority of the up-to-date museum. (See Fig. 4.) The latest edition of a professional museum manual is perfectly straightforward about this: "the criterion of success for a museum exhibition is whether it has achieved an affective experience, inducing a new attitude or interest, not whether visitors walk away from the museum having learned specific facts or having comprehended the basic principles of a scholarly discipline."⁸⁶ Explanations vary. David Lowenthal, master chronicler of indiscriminate appetites for the past, plays on a willful inversion of Victorian standards: "artifacts give way to performance, display cases to interactive engagement, memorabilia to montage."⁸⁷ Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett points to mass tourism and mass media as models for visitor-friendly museums that "aspire to the vividness of experience, to immersion in an environment, to an appeal to all the senses, to action and interactivity, to excitement, and beyond that to aliveness."⁸⁸ Theme parks and Disneylands have come in for blame, though open-air museums came first, beginning in the late nineteenth century with Denmark's pieced-together "traditional" village at Skansen.⁸⁹ Critics hold new technologies accountable, but Frank Oppenheimer pioneered the interactive, hands-on museum in the predigital age. Oppenheimer described San Francisco's Exploratorium as "a museum of science, art, and human perception" and freely acknowledged the lessons he had learned from established science and technology museums in Europe.⁹⁰

Figure 4. Designing the "Museum Experience": Duncan Grewcock, "Exhibition Evaluation Cycle," fig. 4.1, in Barry Lord and Gail Dexter Lord, eds., The Manual of Museum Exhibitions (Walnut Creek, CA, 2002), p. 45. Reproduced with the kind permission of AltaMira Press.

Hein's ancient philosophy and the examples of Skansen and the Exploratorium already suggest that the appeal to experience is not so revolutionary as enthusiasts and critics make it out to be. The didactic museum has never altogether suppressed the old frisson of "wonder," and the blockbuster show is the Wunderkammer's successor.⁹¹ Stephen Bann has shown how the sense of "being there" contended with temporal distance, the sense of a remote and receding past, in the thinking of the antiquarians whose collections stocked the new public museums in France and England. The two sides of modern historical consciousness still rival one another in museums today. One leads to the evocation of a milieu and ultimately to the interactive display, the other to intrusive labels and methodical itineraries.⁹²

The late Francis Haskell's study of the rise of the art exhibition begins with behind-the-scenes preparations for a contemporary art show that, absent the jet transport planes, could just as well apply to the exhibit of Old Master pictures at Manchester in 1857.⁹³ The Manchester show's civic and commercial sponsors commissioned a vast glass-and-iron building with a special railway station attached. They solicited "art treasures" from collections all over Britain with the aim of showing up the Continent while promoting the reputation of Manchester as more than the gritty engine of commerce and industry. The display of more than five hundred Old Masters still counts as one of most spectacular assemblages of masterpieces ever brought together under one roof. Although the pictures were supposed to be hung on the latest principles of chronology and national school, the arrangement broke down after the second room. Photographs, tapestries, weapons, ivories, statues, modern British paintings, and an exotic Indian Garden Court vied for attention with Raphael, Titian, and Rubens. Queen Victoria's Van Dyck portrait of Charles I commanded a position of honor and blocked the view along the axis of the main hall. Over 1.3 million people visited the exhibition in four months, including workers' groups and school children. Whether they left more enlightened than before is a moot point. There was no lecture hall. The labels were sketchy so as not to compete with catalogue sales, but a waggish printer published a pamphlet called "Bobby Tuttle and his Woife Sayroh's visut to Manchester un' the Greight Hert Tresures Palace owt Trafford" [Old Trafford, the exhibition site]. In any event, concludes Haskell, "the efforts made at social 'outreach' far outstripped those upon which museums congratulate themselves today."⁹⁴

For all the precedents, no one doubts that new expectations and new technologies have driven profound changes in the museum world. Self-styled progressives in Canadian and Australian museum circles have enthusiastically welcomed the democratic, community-building potential. George F. MacDonald, perhaps the most influential spokesman of this position and a director of both Canadian and Australian national museums since the 1980s, argues from information and media theory. As information and experience contest property and objects as status markers, museums will gain a new lease on life "as places for learning in and about the world in which the globetrotting mass media, international tourism, migration, and instant satellite links between cultures are sculpting a new global awareness and helping give shape to what Marshall McLuhan characterised as the global village."⁹⁵ Locked away under glass, the old museum collections are, in MacDonald's blasphemous quip that some museum directors might discreetly applaud, a geriatric burden requiring expensive life-support systems. A burgeoning class of new visitors has different expectations anyway, given its inclination

to reject traditional, low tech, interpretative technologies that employ academic jargon with which they have no familiarity; its preference for new information technologies, with which many people feel comfortable and in control ... ; its greater interest in behind-the-scenes technical operations; its demand for non-collections-based facilities and services, such as lounges, restaurants, and film presentations.⁹⁶

There are many red flags here, not least because MacDonald, however presumptuous, may well be right. An otherwise unruly coalition of professed traditionalists, technology skeptics, and theoretically armed critics of "late capitalism" and "neo-liberalism" charge the high-tech agenda with being at once free-wheeling, reductive, and determinist about technology as well as society. Depending on the lexicon, the new dispensation is a populist delusion, technological hubris, or false consciousness. One of the most insistent and most recent critics is Timothy W. Luke, who finds late capitalist cunning in the "insinuation of entertainmentalities into museum space," with the pretense "that simulation duplicates 'the feel' of it all."⁹⁷ After updating a conventional view of the serious, if not exactly cheerless functions of museums, Luke indicts ostensibly good democratic intentions as vectors of the disciplines of "governmentality" and the exigencies of capitalist globalization. He finds the results more conducive to the production of consumers and tourists than citizens and to the building of markets than minds. The most disturbing failures of the new museum culture to deliver the heightened conscience and consciousness of a liberal outcome are precisely those projects most devoted to such a mission. Luke's most telling examples are the Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles and the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C.⁹⁸

The differences between technophiles and critics of new museum technologies are often represented as quarrels between "popularizers" and "traditionalists." But the labels hardly do justice to positions that are neither so popular nor so traditional. MacDonald's case for museums enhancing popular experience comes close to condescending to the people; the most articulate "traditionalist" arguments come from sophisticated radical critics such as Timothy W. Luke. Conflicts along these lines have by and large become ritual tilts in any event. Most museum professionals have already either embraced or conceded the case for more "accessible" museums "responsive" to a broader and more diverse public. The multimedia museum display and the interactive computer station have become standard equipment in the most traditional museums, and the "virtual museum" has not triumphed over the real thing. Contrary to some predictions, and many fears, few of these pixel productions pretend to reproduce or take the place of museums on the ground; some do humdrum informational work, most advertise, many add online features to existing real-time programs.⁹⁹ Meanwhile one of the most consistent (and arguably most encouraging) conclusions from visitor surveys is that the actual experience of people in museums is varied and inconsistent.¹⁰⁰

In April 2002, a New York Times special supplement saluted a "Golden Age of Museums"; a sequel in March 2004 promised "Exhilaration, Inspiration, Wonder."¹⁰¹ The wonder toward the end of this Brief Guide is the disparity between the glitter, possibly fool's gold, and a museum literature full of crisis and foreboding. The museum publicity teams are clearly doing their work, but outsiders may be puzzled—so for that matter may insiders.

One easy explanation is that we are dealing with two sides of the same phenomenon, a kind of bipolar disorder in the museum world. That there has been a worldwide museum boom for the past twenty or thirty years is indisputable; a simultaneous boom in museum studies, also indisputable, can be thought of as a discursive shadow, the underside of success where critical reactions and anxieties are played out. Accounts of this sort are a useful check on both the bulls and the bears of the newer museum studies. But they do not tell us much about the issues at stake.

Another possibility is that museums are "in transition," suspended between past practices and future prospects. This is a view that Hilde S. Hein puts in the broadest philosophical context: museums have given up on "the singularity of truth" for "the promotion of multivalent plurality ... in a world that affirms the global while denying the universal."¹⁰² Counting collapse as the ultimate transition, Douglas Crimp's On the Museum in Ruins imagines the modern art museum imploding on its own airless elitism. The upbeat counterpart of these dismal transitions only changes valences. For George F. MacDonald, demoting received practices means promoting a vibrant union of democracy and technology.

The problem with transition arguments, dark or light, is that their inclines are too steep. They presuppose some utopian or dystopian point of departure and a correspondingly low or high point of arrival. On the one hand, Hein idealizes the goals of a perfect museum—"to teach discrimination and discernment; to develop a culturally specific sense of intellectual, moral, and aesthetic values; and to come, by that route, to self-scrutiny and self-knowledge"; then she pits the ideal against a drearily dysfunctional present "when the objectivity of objects disintegrates, the self reverts to privacy, and the separateness of others is merely an accidental projection of one's own consciousness."¹⁰³ On the other hand, critics who start with harsh indictments—hidebound routines, complacent superiority, and subservience to money and politics are the usual suspects—leave precious little hope for anything short of a revolution. Precisely because present and future directions are problematic—indeed, "in transition"—these formulaic scenarios are not helpful. One clear lesson of this Brief Guide is that museum history is fraught with complex and often conflicting motives.

Historians are inclined to see proof of complexity as an endgame, then to disclaim further responsibilities on the grounds that the future is not our business. What would it mean to bring complications to light and take on responsibilities too? The question and the answers are all in a hard day's work for public historians involved with museums or museum studies programs. Although historians in a variety of fields have occasionally done crossover stints as consultants or curators for museum shows, for most academic historians, museums are a small if by now well-tended subfield of cultural history. We owe to an Australian museum professional, who is not herself a historian and does not expect historians to become museum workers, the most searching treatment so far of the potential impact of historical perspectives on museum theory and practice. The title of Andrea Witcomb's Re-imagining the Museum: Beyond the Mausoleum sounds like an exercise in museum-bashing, but her intention is to get "beyond" the attacking and the defensive modes of the newer museum literature. And her main strategy is eminently historical: to confront stereotypes and pseudo-histories with historical crosscurrents that will seem familiar to users of this Brief Guide.

To begin with, Witcomb argues that one of the most damaging misrepresentations is the association of museums with narratives of modernity. In the battered but still standing version, they are beacons of reason, civilization, and enlightenment; in a mirror image they are complicitous and dispiriting extensions of the sins of the West. Witcomb questions these associations without simply rejecting them in an a priori move of her own. Marshaling examples mostly from the newer museum studies, she shows how eclectic, inconsistently modernizing, often "irrational" even the most self-consciously modern museums have been. This leads to a conclusion with practical applications: museums cannot be held hostage in the present to totalizing visions of their past or likely future.

Witcomb's second objective is to encourage fresh encounters between academic studies of the culture and historiography of museums and the literature of museum practice. This amounts to asking people who write about and work in museums to do their homework. Her close analysis of the benefits and liabilities of two interactive historical exhibits in Sydney, Australia, suggests how productive this can be, not least for its bearing on the yield of different ways of plotting social and cultural history.¹⁰⁴ If linear exhibitions reinforced dominant cultural narratives, as if the nation were a single community, they also constituted a shared public space and gave visitors the referents and defined routes that, according to visitor surveys, they wanted. Serial arrangements offering alternative paths and discrete displays suited a pluralistic social history and encouraged interactive choices, but they also proved distracting and, for some visitors, disconcerting. Either/or choices have, as usual, a reality problem.

Witcomb's bottom line is that "contemporary museum trends have historical precedents rather than being a radical break with the past."¹⁰⁵ Most laments and cheers over the loss of tradition and integrity are themselves museum material. The dismissive rejoinder that looking back to the future only amounts to nostalgia or evasion does not cut very deep. It is serious business to inject the present and future with an informed sense of what museums have been and can be, to acknowledge that the long view takes in contingency, failure, resilience, and resistance, and to work for a more perfect union with our museum colleagues in teaching and research. Museums are, after all, repositories for the future as well as the past.

Special thanks to my colleagues at the National Humanities Center for sharing their thoughts about museums and many other things during my tenure there (2003–2004) as John T. Birkelund Fellow; the center's administration and staff could not have been more helpful. At Berkeley, Sarah Horowitz was the perfect research assistant and a museum enthusiast to boot. For their reading and encouragement on versions of this Brief Guide, I am indebted to Svetlana Alpers, Jordanna Bailkin, Mario Biagioli, Paula Findlen, Ivan Gaskell, István Rév, Frances Starn and Orin Starn; Michael Grossberg, editor extraordinary, and the AHR's anonymous readers provided the keen and helpful comments that contributors expect and value from the journal.

Randolph Starn is a professor emeritus of history and Italian studies, former director of the Townsend Center for the Humanities, and Marion E. Koshland Distinguished Professor of the Humanities emeritus at the University of California, Berkeley. His scholarly work ranges from Renaissance studies and early modern Italy to art history and the history of historiography. In 2003–2004 he was John T. Birkelund Fellow at the National Humanities Center where this article was written as a companion piece to his larger project on archives, museums, and other institutions concerned with authenticating the past. His most recent book is a collection of his essays, Varieties of Cultural History (Keip Verlag, 2002).

Notes

¹ Warren Leon and Roy Rosenzweig, eds., History Museums in the United States: A Critical Assessment (Urbana, Ill., 1989), xi–xii; Eilean Hooper-Greenhill, Museums and the Shaping of Knowledge (London and New York, 1992), 3. G. D. Lewis writes, "The story of the development of museums is still largely unwritten." Lewis, "Introduction," in J. M. A. Thompson, ed., Manual of Curatorship: A Guide to Museum Practice (London, 1986), 5. See also Krzysztof Pomian, "Museum und kulturelles Erbe," in Gottfried Korff and M. Roth, eds., Das historische Museum (Frankfurt, 1990), 54; and on the near "invisibility" of the "museum industry" to academic research, see Sharon MacDonald, "Posing Questions about the Purposes of Museums," review of The New Museology, Peter Vergo, ed., Current Anthropology 31, no. 2 (April 1990): 225.

² As of 2001, there were approximately 25,000 accredited museums in the world, more than 8,000 of them in the United States; the actual number including those not certified by or belonging to national or international organizations such as the UNESCO-affiliated International Council of Museums and Sites must be several times larger. The number of museum visits in the United States alone was estimated at 865 million between 1987 and 1998. American Association of Museums, Museums Count (Washington, D.C., 1994), 33; Jane Lusaka and John Strand, "The Boom—and What to Do about It," Museum News (November–December 1998): 59. The number of history museums is uncertain, in large part because definitions are slippery, but a 1989 survey estimated that there were 9,200 history museums and historic sites of a total of 13,800 museums in the United States. American Association of Museums Data Report (Washington, D. C., 1992), exhibit 9, no. 29. Opinion polls suggest that people in Europe and the United States trust museums over other sources about the past, more than eyewitnesses, elders, or high school teachers. David Lowenthal, "National Museums and Historical Truth," in Darryl McIntyre and Kirsten Wehner, eds., National Museums, Negotiating Histories: Conference Proceedings (Canberra, 2001), 164–65, citing Roy Rosenzweig and David Thelen, The Presence of the Past: Popular Uses of History in American Life (New York, 1998), 21; Magne Angvik and Bodo von Borries, eds., Youth and History: A Comparative European Survey on Historical Consciousness and Political Attitudes among Adolescents, 2 vols. (Hamburg, 1997), A 62–105, B 45.

³ The standard sources for museum information and bibliography are the Smithsonian Institution Research Information System (http://www.siris.si.edu/), which, under "Specialized Research Bibliographies," as of January 1, 2004, cites 686 entries for "Museum Studies" and 43 entries for "Museology"; and the International Council of Museums/UNESCO Information Centre (http://icom.museum/#infocentre). Museum-related book series are published under the rubrics of Museum Studies, Heritage, or Museology by Routledge, University of Leicester Press, and Athlone Press; the Edifir Press series, "Voci del Museo," is an Italian equivalent. Susan Pearce has edited collections of reprints for Routledge: e.g., The History of Museums, 6 vols. (London, 1997); Museums and Their Development: The European Tradition, 1700–1900, 8 vols. (London, 1999). Though primarily devoted to museums and museum studies in the United States, America's Museums, a special issue of Daedalus 128, no. 3 (Summer 1999) and an earlier but still useful multi-authored survey, Michael Steven Shapiro, ed., The Museum: A Reference Guide (New York, Westport, Conn., and London, 1990), are ambitious interdisciplinary overviews.

⁴ Museum history is routinely taught in museum studies programs leading to a certificate or academic degrees and museum careers. Some museum studies degree programs are linked to particular academic disciplines (art history, anthropology, natural sciences, public policy, and, in a few cases, history); others are not, including the largest at the University of Leicester (United Kingdom), with more than 250 students and 10 faculty members. More than 90 U.S. and international museum studies programs, many of them founded since the mid-1960s, are listed (in an incomplete survey) at the Training Program Web Sites Directory of the Smithsonian Center for Education and Museum Studies, http://museumstudies.si.edu/TrainDirect.htm.

⁵ For the rise of professional differences, see Philippa Levine, The Amateur and the Professional: Antiquarians, Historians, and Archaeologists in Victorian England, 1838–1886 (Cambridge, 1986); and Rebecca Conard, Benjamin Shambaugh and the Intellectual Foundations of Public History (Iowa City, 2002). Patrick W. O'Bannon, "Nothing Succeeds Like Succession: Ponderings on the Future of Public History," Public Historian 24, no. 3 (Summer 2002): 9–16, relates ongoing tales of divorce and mutual suspicion between academic and public historians since the 1970s. The Public Historian, the journal of the National Council of Public Historians, regularly publishes thorough and thoughtful museum reviews in order "to discuss issues of historical exposition, presentation, and understanding through exhibits mounted in the United States and abroad." To my knowledge, the Journal of American History is the only academic history journal of record in this country or abroad to feature regular reviews (in nos. 1 and 3 of each volume) of museum exhibits.

⁶ Francis Henry Taylor, Babel's Tower: The Dilemma of the Modern Museum (New York, 1945).

⁷ Donald Preziosi and Claire Farago, eds., Grasping the World: The Idea of the Museum (Aldershot, 2004); Gail Anderson, ed., Reinventing the Museum: Historical and Contemporary Perspectives on the Paradigm Shift (Walnut Creek, Calif., 2004).

⁸ Randolph Starn, Varieties of Cultural History, Bibliotheca Eruditorum 32 (Goldbach, Germany, 2002), chap. 17, "Authenticity and Historic Preservation: Towards an Authentic History," 281–96; and chap. 18, "Truths in the Archives," 345–59; Starn, "Three Ages of 'Patina' in Painting," Representations 78, no. 1 (Spring 2002): 86–115.

⁹ The most informed and thoughtful of the older works is Alma S. Wittlin, Museums: In Search of a Usable Future (Cambridge, Mass. and London, 1970). Trained in museum studies in the 1930s in Vienna and Berlin, Wittlin emigrated to England and then to the United States, where she worked as a leading academic expert, organizer, and advocate in museum education; her 1970 book, expanding and updating her The Museum: Its History and Its Tasks in Education, International Library of Sociology and Social Reconstruction, Karl Mannheim, ed. (London, 1949) remains valuable for its experienced engagement with the past and the future prospects of museums. See, too, the books by Edward P. Alexander, a distinguished museum administrator who turned to museum history late in his career, esp. Museums in Motion: An Introduction to the History and Function of Museums (Nashville, Tenn., 1979).

¹⁰Museum 148 (1985): 184; similarly, "Muséologie (Nouvelle)," in Encyclopaedia Universalis, Supplément, 2 vols. (Paris, 1984–1985), 2: 958.

¹¹ Peter Vergo, "Introduction," in Vergo, ed., The New Museology (London, 1989), 3. The barely concealed hostility in such manifestos breaks out in one of the first and last stabs at new museological wit: Vergo compares the development of the museum profession to that of "the coelacanth, that remarkable creature whose brain, in the course of its development from embryo to adult, shrinks in relation to its size." Vergo, "Introduction," 3. Another influential collection of essays from the late 1980s, Robert Lumley, ed., The Museum Time Machine: Putting Cultures on Display (London and New York, 1988), was similarly critical of the profession.

¹² David Murray, Museums: Their History and Their Use, with a Bibliography and List of Museums in the United Kingdom, 2 vols. (1904; rpt. edn. with an introduction by Paula Findlen, Staten Island, N.Y., 2000): 1: 1.

¹³ Hilde S. Hein, The Museum in Transition: A Philosophical Perspective (Washington, D.C., 2000), 18. Similarly, Hooper-Greenhill in Museums and the Shaping of Knowledge, 191, observes: "There is no essential museum. The museum is not a pre-constituted entity that is produced in the same way at all times. No 'direct ancestors' ... or 'fundamental role' ... can be identified." The difficulties faced by the International Council of Museums in formulating official definitions for the 1970s and 1980s are surveyed by Kenneth Hudson, "Attempts to Define 'Museum,'" in Museums for the 1980s: A Survey of World Trends (London, 1977), 1–7.

¹⁴ Foucault's most programmatic and most influential statement on the genealogical method is the essay "Nietzsche, Genealogy, History," in Michel Foucault, Language, Counter-Memory, Practice: Selected Essays and Interviews, Donald F. Bouchard, ed. (Ithaca, N.Y., 1977), 27–49; cf. Rudi Visker, Michel Foucault: Genealogy as Critique, Chris Turner, trans. (New York and London, 1995); and for "imaginary genealogies" as fictional but functional alternatives for thinking about actual states of affairs, see Bernard Williams, Truth and Truthfulness: An Essay in Genealogy (Princeton, N.J., 2002), esp. 20–40.

¹⁵ Hooper-Greenhill, Museums and the Shaping of Knowledge, 9–10.

¹⁶ Sharon MacDonald produces another similarly schematic sequence for museums of science in "Exhibitions of Power and Powers of Exhibition: An Introduction to the Politics of Display," in MacDonald, ed., The Politics of Display: Museums, Science, and Culture (London and New York, 1998), esp. 5–17.

¹⁷ Hooper-Greenhill, Museums and the Shaping of Knowledge, 190.

¹⁸ Tony Bennett, Birth of the Museum: History, Theory, Politics (London and New York, 1995), 73.

¹⁹ Douglas Crimp, On the Museum's Ruins (Cambridge, Mass., 1993), 287.

²⁰ Timothy W. Luke, Museum Politics: Power Plays at the Exhibition (Minneapolis, Minn. and London, 2002), 4.

²¹ Daniel J. Sherman and Irit Rogoff, "Introduction: Frameworks for Critical Analysis," in Sherman and Rogoff, eds., Museum/Culture: Histories, Discourses, Spectacles (Minneapolis, Minn., 1994), x–xi.

²² Ivan Gaskell, review of On the Museum's Ruins, by Douglas Crimp, The Cultures of Collecting, by John Elsner and Roger Cardinal, and Museum Culture: Histories, Discourses, Spectacles, by Daniel J. Sherman and Irit Rogoff, eds., Art Bulletin 77, no. 4 (1995): 673–75.

²³ Gaskell, review, 674, referring to Theodor Adorno, "The Valéry Proust Museum," in Adorno, Prisms, Samuel and Shierry Weber, trans. (London, 1967), 175. Updating the analysis of the museum's complicity with capitalism, Pierre Bourdieu's 1960s research on "the true function of museums" famously argued that museums furnish the "distinction" of "cultural capital" to the elite so as "to increase the feeling of belonging for some [and] of exclusion for others." Pierre Bourdieu and Alain Darbel, The Love of Art: European Art Museums and Their Publics [1969], Caroline Beattie and Nick Merriman, trans. (Stanford, Calif., 1990), 21; for a cogent critique, see Nick Merriman, "Museum Visiting as a Cultural Phenomenon," in Vergo, ed., The New Museology, 149–71. For the anti-capitalist museum critique updated yet again in terms of "late capitalism," see Carol Duncan and Alan Wallach, "The Museum of Modern Art as Late Capitalist Ritual: An Iconographic Analysis [1978]," and Rosalind Krauss, "The Cultural Logic of the Late Capitalist Museum [1990]," reprinted in Preziosi and Farago, eds., Grasping the World, 483–500, 600–18.

²⁴ Neil Harris, "The Gilded Age Revisited: Boston and the Museum Movement," American Quarterly 14, no. 4 (1962): 545–64.

²⁵ Joseph C. Choate, a founding trustee of the Met, on the occasion of its dedication, as quoted by Calvin Tomkins, Merchants and Masterpieces: The Story of the Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York, 1970).

²⁶ Luciano Canfora, The Vanished Library: A Wonder of the Ancient World, Martin Ryle, trans. (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1990).

²⁷ Paula Findlen, "The Museum: Its Classical Etymology and Renaissance Genealogy," Journal of the History of Collections 1, no. 1 (1989): 59–78. This is the first of Findlen's many important studies, which include Possessing Nature: Museums, Collecting, and Scientific Culture in Early Modern Italy (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1994); most recently, "The Renaissance in the Museum," in Allen J. Grieco, Michael Rocke, and Fiorella Gioffredi Superbi, eds., The Italian Renaissance in the Twentieth Century: Acts of an International Conference, Florence, Villa I Tatti, June 9–11, 1999 (Florence, 2002), 93–116, anticipates Findlen's arguments for the Renaissance "birth" of the museum in a forthcoming book, A Fragmentary Past: Museums and the Renaissance. Andreas Grote, ed., Macrocosmos in Microcosmo: Die Welt in der Stube; zur Geschichte des Sammelns 1450 bis 1800 (Opladen, 1994) is a rich collection of articles by major scholars on Renaissance and early modern European museums.

²⁸ Crimp, On the Museum's Ruins, 294.

²⁹ See Andrea Witcomb, Re-imagining the Museum: Beyond the Mausoleum (London and New York, 2003), 18–26, for references and a discerning synthesis drawing on the work, among others, of Meg Armstrong, Robert Rydell, Paul Greenhalgh, and Tony Bennett. These connections and the tensions engendered by them are a major theme in the collected essays of Neil Harris, Cultural Excursions: Marketing Appetites and Cultural Tastes in Modern America (Chicago, 1990), e.g., chap. 3 "Museums, Merchandising, and Popular Taste: The Struggle for Influence," 56–81; chap. 6 "Great American Fairs and American Cities: The Role of Chicago's Columbian Exposition," 11–31; see too, more recently, Harris's "The Divided House of the American Art Museum," in America's Museums, 33–56; cf. Barbara J. Black, On Exhibit: Victorians and Their Museums (Charlottesville, Va. and London, 2000), 4, 19, for a nuanced account showing that in Britain, particularly in London, "the museum did possess a centripetal force ... [as] the age's great enterprise," but that it also generated "frenzy and furor."

³⁰ G. Brown Goode, The Principles of Museum Administration (New York, 1895), 2–3 (on the lack of a general treatise on museum administration and the classification of museum types); 9 (the diverse functions of museums); 10 ("the dead museum").

³¹ George W. Stocking, "Museums and Material Culture," in Stocking, ed., Objects and Others: Essays on Museums and Material Culture (Madison, Wis., 1985), 8, citing the example of contemporaneous divergences such as Pitt Rivers's linear evolutionary exhibits in his Oxford museum vs. Franz Boas's context-oriented exhibits of multiple functions and meanings in keeping with the principles of liberal relativism.

³² "The appreciation of the utility of Museums to the great public lies at the foundation of what is known as 'the modern Museum idea'"; its development together with libraries, reading rooms, and parks "referred to by some wise person as 'passionless reformers' ... is due to Great Britain in much greater degree than to any other nation." Brown Goode, Principles, 71–72, citing the Great Exhibition of 1851, John Ruskin's promotion of working-class museums, and the work of Sir Henry Cole in Birmingham. The guiding precept is printed in capital letters: "THE DEGREE OF CIVILIZATION TO WHICH ANY NATION, CITY OR PROVINCE HAS ATTAINED IS BEST SHOWN BY THE CHARACTER OF ITS PUBLIC MUSEUMS AND THE LIBERALITY WITH WHICH THEY ARE MAINTAINED," Brown Goode, Principles, 73.

³³ Since its appearance in 1980, Carol Duncan's essay "From the Princely Gallery to the Public Art Museum: The Louvre Museum and the National Gallery," revised in her Civilising Rituals: Inside the Public Art Museum (London, 1995), 21–47, has set the terms for the thesis that the public art museum of the "new bourgeois state," especially in postrevolutionary France, inherited and transformed the cultural politics of absolutism; see Jean-Pierre Babelon, "Le Louvre: Demeure des Rois, Temple des Arts," in Pierre Nora, ed., Les Lieux de Mémoire, vol. 2, La Nation (Paris, 1986), part 3, 169–216; and for a closely documented account, Andrew McClellan, Inventing the Louvre: Art, Politics, and the Origins of the Modern Art Museum in Eighteenth-Century Paris (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1994).

³⁴ Daniel J. Sherman, Worthy Monuments: Art Museums and the Politics of Culture in Nineteenth-Century France (Cambridge, Mass. and London, 1989); see, too, Eduard Pommier, "Naissance des Musées de Province," in Nora, ed., Les Lieux de Mémoire, vol. 2, part 2, 451–93.

³⁵ James J. Sheehan, Museums in the German Art World from the End of the Old Regime to the Rise of Modernism (New York, 2000); Susan A. Crane, Collecting and Historical Consciousness in Early Nineteenth-Century Germany (Ithaca, N.Y., 2000), esp. chap. 4, "Finding Form for the Content: Historical Museums," 105–42.

³⁶ Wittlin, Museums, 81–101, is a good survey of the rise of national museums and international organizations; the Paris-based International Council of Museums currently has more than ninety national members.

³⁷ Wittlin, Museums, 121–93. Neil Harris, "Polling for Opinions," Museum News 69, no. 5 (September–October 1990): 46–55, gives a negative turn to a similar chronology: "authoritarian condescension" before World War I; "authoritarian experimentalism" in the early twentieth century, "populist deference" after World War II; "existential scrutiny" in the 1990s. See Ivan Karp, "Museums and Communities," in Karp, Christine Mullen Kreamer, and Steven D. Lavine, eds., Museums and Communities (Washington, D.C. and London, 1992), 8–11, for an appreciative summary that also takes issue with Harris over the negative chronology. Veteran museum administrator and teacher Edward P. Alexander has used the biographies of museum directors with very different, often highly controversial agendas as a touchstone for the history of modern museums in his Museum Masters: Their Museums and Their Influence (Nashville, Tenn., 1983); and The Museum in America: Innovators and Pioneers (Walnut Creek, Calif., 1997).

³⁸ John Walker, "The Genesis of the National Gallery of Art," Art in America 22, no. 4 (1944): 21; and Benjamin I. Gilman, Museum Ideals (Cambridge, Mass., 1923), 24, quoted by Wittlin, Museums, 151.

³⁹ Wittlin, Museums, 163.

⁴⁰ Wittlin, Museums, 175, lists the following post-World War II trends: "An increasing interest and changes of taste in art museums; An increasing concern with ecology, in both museums of natural history and of anthropology; An awareness of minority groups; Manners of display tending toward a Total Environment; A museum-school marriage; A new emphasis on research; Multi-Track versus One-Track establishments; A widely spread malaise with regard to existing conditions in the presence of program."

⁴¹ Stephen E. Weil, A Cabinet of Curiosities: Inquiries into Museums and Their Prospects (Washington, D.C., 1995), 13.

⁴² Susan A. Crane, "Curious Cabinets and Imaginary Museums," in Crane, ed., Museums and Memory (Stanford, Calif., 2002), 80; see Lawrence Weschler, Mr. Wilson's Cabinet of Wonder (New York, 1995); and for a full bibliography, see Crane, "Curious Cabinets," 227–28, n. 1; cf. Black, On Exhibit, 19, for a kind of genealogical museum sublime (or ridiculous): "As the collective voice of these thinkers [nineteenth and twentieth-century writers on museums] would conclude, the museum is a whorehouse is a mausoleum is a department store is a secular cathedral is a disease is a glory."

⁴³ See, for example, Ludmilla Jordanova, "Objects of Knowledge: A Historical Perspective on Museums," and Peter Vergo, "The Reticent Object," in Vergo, ed., The New Museology, 22–40, 41–59; Edwina Taborsky, "The Discursive Object," and Peter van Mensch, "Methodological Museology; or Towards a Theory of Museum Practice," in Susan Pearce, ed., Objects of Knowledge (London, 1990), 50–77, 141–57; James Clifford, "Objects and Selves," in Stocking, ed., Objects and Others, 236–46; Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, Destination Culture: Tourism, Museums, Heritage (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1998), chap. 1, "Objects of Ethnography" rev. essay of 1991, 17–78; Elaine Heumann Gurian, "What is the Object of this Exercise? A Meandering Exploration of the Many Meanings of Objects in Museums," in America's Museums, 163–83. Hein, The Museum in Transition, chap. 4, "Transcending the Object," 51–68, offers a critical analysis of the epistemological displacement of museum objects. The terminology derives directly or indirectly from the notion of "the discourse object" in Michel Foucault, Archaeology of Knowledge (London, 1972), 140.

⁴⁴ Mieke Bal, "The Discourse of the Museum," in Reesa Ferguson, Bruce W. Ferguson, and Sandy Naire, eds., Thinking about Exhibitions (New York, 1996), 214; cf. the measured critique of similar claims by Ivan Gaskell, Vermeer's Wager: Speculations on Art History, Theory and Art Museums (London, 2000), 14, e.g., "the subsumption of the visual by the textual—proposed by a preponderance of orthodox theorists—seems to me to be erroneous, for it involves an oversimplification of the artefact, and our responses to it."

⁴⁵ Steven Conn, Museums and American Intellectual Life, 1876–1926 (Chicago and London, 1998).

⁴⁶ George Brown Goode, "The Museums of the Future," in Annual Report of the Board of Regents of the Smithsonian Institution for the Year Ending June 30, 1889; Report of the National Museum (Washington, D.C., 1891), 433; cf. Bennett, Birth of the Museum, 42–43, quoting Sir William Henry Flower, Essays on Museums and Other Subjects Connected with Natural History (London, 1898), 18, 49.

⁴⁷ Conn, Museums and American Intellectual Life, 262.

⁴⁸ See notes 33–34 above.

⁴⁹ Didier Maleuvre, Museum Memories: History, Technology, Art (Stanford, Calif., 1999), 1–2; cf. Maleuvre, 15–39; and for the argument that Quatremère was not so much opposed to museums per se as to the removal of art from that "universal museum," the city of Rome, see Jean-Louis Déotte, "Rome, the Archetypal Museum, and the Louvre, the Negation of Division," in Susan Pearce, ed., Art in Museums (London and Atlantic Highlands, N.J., 1995), 215–32; on the long afterlife of Quatremère's critique, see Daniel J. Sherman, "Quatremère/Benjamin/Marx: Art Museums, Aura, and Commodity Fetishism," in Sherman and Rogoff, eds., Museum/Culture, 123–43.

⁵⁰ G. W. F. Hegel, Phenomenology of Spirit, A. V. Miller, trans. (Oxford, 1977), 456, cited in Maleuvre, Museum Memories, 25.

⁵¹ Maleuvre, Museum Memories, 28; see Sheehan, Museums in the German Art World, 51–52, 87–93, for German repercussions of the controversy and the reception of Hegel's position in the new professions of art history and museology.

⁵² Charles Saumarez Smith, "Museums, Artefacts, and Meanings," in Vergo, ed., The New Museology, 9.

⁵³ Quoted in Le débat 41 (March–May 1987): 65; this seemingly tongue-in-cheek remark is not so far removed from the preparations for the opening of the rebuilt Museum of Modern Art in New York as reported by Arthur Lubow, "Remoderning: How MOMA Will Retell the Story of Modernism," The New York Times Magazine, October 3, 2004, 60–69, 94, 120–21. For the limits of binding clauses on "cultural treasures," see the essays by legal scholar Joseph Sax, Playing Darts with a Rembrandt: Public and Private Rights in Cultural Treasures (Ann Arbor, Mich., 1999); for fresh historical analysis on the rise and decline of public claims to cultural property, see Jordanna Bailkin, The Culture of Property: The Crisis of Liberalism in Modern Britain (Chicago and London, 2004).

⁵⁴ Charles Saumarez Smith, "The Philosophy of Museum Display: The Continuing Debate," in The V & A Album 5 (1986): 37, quoted by Mark Goodwin, "Objects, Power, and Belief in mid-Victorian England—the Origins of the Victoria and Albert Museum," in Pearce, ed., Objects of Knowledge, 10.

⁵⁵ Conn, Museums and American Intellectual Life, 262.

⁵⁶ For a survey of "the museum-memory nexus [as] one of the richest sites for inquiry into the production of cultural and personal knowledge," see Susan A. Crane, "Introduction," in Crane, ed., Museums and Memory, 1–13; Gaynor Kavanaugh, Dream Spaces: Memory and the Museum (London and New York, 2000) is a practice-oriented study by an experienced museum professional. Working with concepts from linguistics and cognitive studies, Diana Drake Wilson, "Realizing Memory, Transforming History: Euro/American/Indians," in Crane, ed., Museums and Memory, 115–36, constructs a theoretical rationale for a "materials memory" that has "referential immediacy and effects ... as truthful and socially, culturally, psychologically, and physically consequential for subjectivity and experience." Quotation on 34. Cf., however, the provocative historiographical essay that brings out the equivocations in the collective memory literature by Kerwin Lee Klein, "On the Emergence of Memory in Historical Discourse," Representations, no. 69 (Winter 2000): 127–43. On "inalienable possessions," see Fred R. Myers, "Introduction," in Myers, ed., The Empire of Things (Santa Fe, N.Mex., and Oxford, 2001), 12–15, referring particularly to the work of anthropologist Annette Weiner.

⁵⁷ A very large bibliography ranges from local studies to reflections on cross-cultural encounters in museums as staging grounds of memory, identity formation, and identity politics; two excellent examples of each kind are, respectively, Michael Ross and Reg Crowshoe, "Shadows and Sacred Geography: First Nations History-Making from an Alberta Perspective," in Gaynor Kavanaugh, ed., Making Histories in Museums (London and New York, 1996), 240–56; and the work of James Clifford, esp., the essay chapters in Routes: Travel and Translation in the Late Twentieth Century (Cambridge, Mass. and London, 1997), chap. 5, "Four Northwest Coast Museums: Travel Reflections," 107–145; chap. 7, "Museums as Contact Zones," 188–219. For the debates surrounding Native American repatriation issues, see Devon A. Mihesuah, ed., Repatriation Reader: Who Owns American Indian Remains? (Lincoln, Neb., 2000); Jed Riffe has produced and directed an excellent documentary film on the subject, Who Owns the Past?

⁵⁸ Ivan Karp and Steven D. Lavine, "Museums and Multiculturalism," in Karp and Levine, eds., Exhibiting Cultures: The Poetics and Politics of Museum Display (Washington, D.C., 1991), 5.

⁵⁹ Amy Henderson and Adrienne Louise Kaeppler, eds., Exhibiting Dilemmas: Issues of Representation at the Smithsonian (Washington, D.C., 1997); Willard L. Boyd, "Museums as Centers of Controversy," in America's Museums, 85–228, is a survey by a distinguished museum professional, lawyer, and academic administrator.

⁶⁰ Marlene Chambers, "Critiquing Exhibition Criticism," Museum News (September/October 1999): 31–74, notes the long-standing popularity of sessions at annual meetings of museum associations that are devoted to critiquing exhibitions; she offers a clever taxonomy: "Yankee Trader criticism, with its authoritarian, didactic emphasis on putting across a message; Houdini criticism, which focuses on escaping the culturally conditioned paradigms that shape our messages and their meanings; LEGO criticism, which views meaning making as a shared social process." Quotation on 31.

⁶¹ William Yeingst and Lonnie B. Bunch, "Curating the Recent Past: The Woolworth Lunch Counter, Greensboro, North Carolina," in Henderson and Kaeppler, eds., Exhibiting Dilemmas, 143–55; an eight-foot section of the counter was eventually (and provisionally) installed in a second-floor corridor, outside the main exhibit but in view of the star-spangled banner, and accompanied by photo murals on the civil rights movement.

⁶² Gaynor Kavanaugh, "Preface," in Kavanaugh, ed., Making Histories, xiii. See David Lowenthal, Possessed by the Past: The Heritage Crusade and the Spoils of History (New York, 1996); and Robert Lumley, "The Debate on Heritage Reviewed," in Robert Miles and Lauro Zavala, eds., Towards the Museum of the Future: New European Perspectives (London and New York, 1994), 57–69.

⁶³ Steven C. Dubin, Displays of Power: Controversy in the American Museum from the Gay to Sensation (New York, 1999), 2–3.

⁶⁴ Luke, Museum Politics, 221.

⁶⁵ Dubin, Displays of Power, chap. 2 "Crossing 125th Street: Harlem on my Mind Revisited," 19–63. Dubin's cases are "Gaelic Gotham," Museum of the City of New York, 1996; "Sigmund Freud: Conflict and Culture," Library of Congress, Washington, D.C., 1996; "The West as America: Reinterpreting Images of the Frontier, 1820–1920," National Museum of American Art, Washington, D.C., 1991; the Enola Gay controversy; and "Sensation: Young British Artists from the Saatchi Collection," Brooklyn Museum of Art, 1999.

⁶⁶ Luke discusses singly or comparatively the Enola Gay controversy; "The West as America: Reinterpreting Images of the Frontier, 1820–1920," National Museum of American Art, Washington, D.C. (1991) and the Gene Autry Museum of Western Heritage, Los Angeles; the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C., and the Museum of Tolerance, Los Angeles; two exhibits (1988, 1998) on medieval Japanese art and culture, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.; the American Museum of Natural History, New York, and the Missouri Botanical Garden, St. Louis; the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, Tucson; the Pima Air and Space Museum, Tucson; the Tech Museum of Innovation, San Jose, California; The Newseum in Arlington, Virginia.

⁶⁷ Dubin, Displays of Power, 15.

⁶⁸ The literature includes several books, a collection of documents and texts, and more than 500 articles. See Kai Bird and Lawrence Lifschultz, eds., Hiroshima's Shadow: Writings on the Denial of History and the Smithsonian Controversy (Stony Creek, Conn., 1998); and for recent episodes, "The New Enola Gay Controversy—Pro and Con," History News Network, November 17, 2003. (http://hnn.us/articles/1807.html).

⁶⁹ Richard H. Kohn, "History at Risk: The Case of the Enola Gay," in Edward T. Linenthal and Tom Engelhardt, eds., History Wars: The Enola Gay and Other Battles for the American Past (New York, 1996), 142, 169.

⁷⁰ Moira G. Simpson, Making Representations: Museums in the Post-Colonial Era (London and New York, 1996), is a full survey, with extensive fieldwork on many specific cases; Tim Barringer and Tom Flynn, eds., Colonialism and the Object: Empire, Material Culture, and the Museum (London and New York, 1998) is a representative selection of papers originally presented at the 1995 British Association of Art Historians' Conference.

⁷¹ For the MOMA exhibition, see esp. James Clifford, "Histories of the Tribal and the Modern," in Clifford, The Predicament of Culture: Twentieth-Century Ethnography, Literature, and Art (Cambridge, Mass., 1988), 89–214 and the references in n. 74 below; for a convenient survey of the vast outpouring, much of it critical, occasioned by the Columbian Quincentennial, see Simpson, Making Representations, 40–43; she also covers exhibitions that galvanized memorable protests along similar lines in the United Kingdom and Canada such as, Hidden Peoples of the Amazon, Museum of Mankind, London, 1985–1986; and The Spirit Sings: Artistic Traditions of Canada's First Peoples, Glenbow Museum, Calgary, 1988.

⁷² A point stressed by Barringer and Flynn, eds., in their introduction to Colonialism and the Object, 2, with reference to Edward Said's Orientalism (New York, 1978) and Culture and Imperialism (New York, 1993).

⁷³ Donna Haraway, "Teddy Bear Patriarchy: Taxidermy for the Garden of Eden" (1985, rev. 1989), reprinted in Haraway, The Haraway Reader (London and New York, 2004), 151–97; Annie C. Coombes, Reinventing Africa: Museums, Material Culture and Popular Imagination in Late Victorian and Edwardian England (New Haven, Conn. and London, 1994) is aother landmark study, complementary to Haraway's, on British high imperial conceptions of Africa.

⁷⁴ See esp. Susan Hiller, ed., The Myth of Primitivism: Perspectives on Art (London and New York, 1991); Sally Price, Primitive Art in Civilized Places (Chicago and London, 1991); Clifford, "Histories of the Tribal and the Modern"; and Shelly Errington, The Death of Authentic Primitive Art and Other Tales of Progress (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1998). For a thoughtful review acknowledging the positive results but also the unresolved difficulties arising from the critique of primitivism, see Ruth B. Phillips, "Where Is 'Africa'? Re-Viewing Art and Artifact in the Age of Globalization," American Anthropologist 104, no. 3 (2002): 944–52, reprinted in Preziosi and Farago, eds., Grasping the World, 758–74. For gender, see Jane K. Glaser and Artemis H. Zenetou, eds., Gender Perspectives: Essays on Women in Museums (Washington, D.C. and St. Louis, 1994).

⁷⁵ Simpson, Making Representations, 43–44.

⁷⁶ Hooper-Greenhill, Museums and Their Visitors (London and New York, 1994), 6–34, inventories some of these strategies, with an emphasis on marketing; see, too, her edition of essays Cultural Diversity: Developing Museum Audiences in Britain (London and Washington, D.C., 1997); for an overview, see Boyd, "Museums as Centers of Controversy," America's Museums 185–228; and Simpson, Making Representations.

⁷⁷ Jo Blatti, "The Halls Are Made of Marble, There's a Guard at Every Door," American Quarterly 45, no. 3 (September 1993): 281.

⁷⁸ Tony Bennett, a leading advocate for a museum criticism engaged with public policy, has been criticized for failing to spell out the criteria by which policies should be judged and what directions they should move in. Tony Bennett, "Putting Policy into Cultural Studies," in Lawrence Grossberg, Cary Nelson, and Paula A. Treichler, eds., Cultural Studies (New York, 1992), 23–37; and Jim McGuigan, Culture and the Public Sphere (London, 1996). For reflections by a seasoned observer, see the latest collection of essays by Stephen E. Weil, Making Museums Matter (Washington, D.C. and London, 2002).

⁷⁹ Avtar Brah and Annie E. Coombes, eds., "Introduction: The Conundrum of 'Mixing'," Hybridity and Its Discontents: Politics, Science, Culture (London and New York, 2000), 2, question the ethics of "providing endlessly differentiated experiences on an expanding menu of delectation while the subjects of this feast continue to experience the kind of discrimination which makes their own material existence at best precarious and at worst intolerable."

⁸⁰ Thomas F. Gieryn, "Balancing Acts: Science, Enola Gay, and History Wars at the Smithsonian," MacDonald, ed., The Politics of Display, 197–228, quotation, 221.

⁸¹ Mary Louise Pratt, Imperial Eyes: Travel and Transculturation (London, 1992), 6, quoted by James Clifford, "Museums as Contact Zones," in Routes, 192.

⁸² Clifford, "Museums as Contact Zones," 213.

⁸³ See the reviews of present and future challenges in Miles and Zavala, eds., Towards the Museum of the Future Patrick Boylan, ed., Museums 2000: Politics, People, Professionals and Profit (London, 1998); and Harold Skramstad, "An Agenda for American Museums in the Twenty-First Century," and Maxwell L. Anderson, "Museums of the Future: The Impact of Technology on Museum Practices," in America's Museums, 109–28, 129–62. The Colorado-based Visitors' Study Association (http://visitorstudies.org) is a gateway to current information and research; the International Library of Visitor Studies (ILVS) is an annually updated bibliography of visitor research; for an overview (mostly of British surveys), with positive proposals on relating museums to new publics, see Hooper-Greenhill, Museums and Their Visitors.

⁸⁴ Hein, The Museum in Transition, viii, 71.

⁸⁵ Hein, The Museum in Transition, 77, 84, 86–7.

⁸⁶ Barry Lord and Gail Dexter Lord, eds., The Manual of Museum Exhibitions (Walnut Creek, Calif., 2002), 17. John H. Falk and Lynn D. Dierking, The Museum Experience (Washington, D.C., 1992), have developed a multi-factored sociological-psychological model of the "museum experience"; "[e]xperience design is a new and special skill, and it will be in great demand in the future," according to Skramstad, "An Agenda," in America's Museums, 123.

⁸⁷ David Lowenthal, "White Elephants and Ivory Towers: Embattled Museums? (The British Museum's Annual A. W. Franks Lecture 1999)," Museum Management and Curatorship 18, no. 2 (2000): 175.

⁸⁸ Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, Destination Culture, 232.

⁸⁹ Bennett, Birth of the Museum, 156–62.

⁹⁰ Hilde S. Hein, The Exploratorium: The Museum as Laboratory (Washington, D.C., 1990); Edward P. Alexander, The Museum in America: Innovators and Pioneers (Walnut Creek, Calif., 1997), 117–32.

⁹¹ Bennett, Birth of the Museum, 40–45, reviews the arguments for continuity.

⁹² Stephen Bann, The Clothing of Clio: A Study in the Representation of History in Nineteenth-Century Britain and France (Cambridge and New York, 1984), 77–92; cf. Dominique Poulot, "Alexandre Lenoir et les Musées des Monuments Français," in Nora, ed., Les Lieux de Mémoire vol. 2, 2, 497–531.

⁹³ Francis Haskell, The Ephemeral Museum: Old Master Paintings and the Rise of the Art Exhibition (New Haven, Conn. and London, 2000), 82–89.

⁹⁴ Haskell, Ephemeral Museum, 87–88.

⁹⁵ George F. MacDonald, "Change and Challenge: Museums in the Information Society," in Karp, Mullen Kreamer, and Lavine, eds., Museums and Communities, 169–70; for applications of this program at the Canadian Museum of Civilization, see George F. MacDonald and S. Alsford, A Museum for a Global Village: The Canadian Museum of Civilization (Hull, Ontario, 1989).

⁹⁶ MacDonald, "Change and Challenge," 161; for further, generally optimistic reflections on claims of this sort, see Anderson, "Museums of the Future," 129–62.

⁹⁷ Luke, Museum Politics, 15; as Luke puts it in his conclusion, 223, "power operates productively within a regime of governmentality by giving art, nature, science, history, and technology a much more entertaining face."

⁹⁸ See Luke, Museum Politics, esp. chap. 3 "Memorializing Mass Murder: The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum," 37–64; and for an overview of the argument, the conclusion "Piecing Together Knowledge and Pulling Apart Power at the Museum," 218–30. Cf. Witcomb, Re-imagining the Museum, 133–41, for other critical perspectives on the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum and the Museum of Tolerance.

⁹⁹ The range of virtual museums is enormous, from corporate projects and personal hobbies to government-sponsored consortiums, from the refined (a museum of classical Chinese culture http://www.chinapage.com), to the absurd (a museum of airsickness bags http://www.airsicknessbags.com). See Witcomb, Re-imagining the Museum, 119–37.

¹⁰⁰ See, for example, Hooper-Greenhill, Museums and Their Publics, 54–83.

¹⁰¹New York Times, April 24, 2002, sec. G, 12.

¹⁰² Hein, The Museum in Transition, 77, vii.

¹⁰³ Hein, The Museum in Transition, 148–9.

¹⁰⁴ Witcomb, Re-imagining the Museum, 147–62, on the Australian Maritime Museum and the Museum of Sydney.

¹⁰⁵ I quote from the concluding summary in Witcomb, Re-imagining the Museum, 165.

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