Museum Management and Curatorship 21 (2006) 32–43 www.elsevier.com/locate/musmancur

Museums at the crossroad: Contributing to dialogue, curiosity and wonder in natural history museums Antonio G. Valdecasas *, Virginia Correia, Ana M. Correas Museo Nacional de Ciencias Naturales, c/Jose Gutierrez Abascal, 2, 28006 Madrid, Spain Received 25 June 2004; received in revised form 1 June 2005; accepted 23 June 2005

Abstract The first natural history collections opened to the public were inspired by a sense of curiosity and wonder about the products of nature. They were ‘cabinets of curiosities’ that offered a first-hand interaction between owner and visitors. Nowadays, these two facets of the museum experience—dialogue and wonder—have been lost, in part, due to the information overload coming via the media and the impersonal nature of the museum visit. This paper offers some reflections on the evolution of the museum visit, suggests some ways to rediscover this ‘sense of wonder’ and provides ideas on how to promote two-way communication with museum visitors. Two examples of exhibitions are offered as illustrations of the points discussed. q 2005 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved. Keywords: Natural history museums; Exhibitions; Visitor experience; Biodiversity; Wonder; Curiosity; Two-way dialogue

1. Introduction The first public museums exhibited animals, plants and objects of human or natural origin that were new and unknown to their visitors (Whitehead, 1970). Visiting a museum was an event full of discovery. Not knowing what was on display, and being confronted with completely unknown objects and organisms, opened up new worlds for visitors—a reflection of the purpose behind those early exhibitions. Until that time, natural history collections had primarily been the property of wealthy aristocrats or dedicated naturalists. Some of their collections were monographic, containing only plants or a single kind of animal such as molluscs or butterflies, although it was more common to * Corresponding author. Tel.: C34 91 4 111328; fax: C34 91 5 645078. E-mail address: [email protected] (A.G. Valdecasas).

0260-4779/$ - see front matter q 2005 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved. doi:10.1016/j.musmancur.2005.06.005

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collect a wide variety of objects such as plants, animals, monstrosities, minerals, ‘unclassifiable’ productions of nature, and human artefacts. Underlying these collections was the desire to foster curiosity and wonder about the diversity of things created by nature (Findlen, 1994). Notable collections, such as the one assembled by Peter the Great for his Petrograd Museum, usually had several origins. Peter bought the anatomical collection of the Dutch anatomist Ruysch, as well as the Seba collection of animals of the East Indies (Massie, 1980). He also contributed some original specimens sent to him by different agents that were explicitly instructed to collect, among other things, ‘strange or interesting items’ (Heesen, 2000). The ‘sense of wonder’ attached to these collections is clearly revealed in Peter’s galleries, where a living human with a genetic anomaly known as ‘lobster extremities’ was shown to the amazement of visitors (Asma, 2001). The anatomical and natural history collections of the British surgeon Hunter, and others, were primarily motivated by this same sense of wonder and scientific curiosity (Asma, 2001). These sensations, plus personal discovery, may have been a leitmotif to visitors, but they were also a driving force behind the building of these collections, along with the germ of modern scientific thinking (Fig. 1). But even before those natural history museums, there were ‘cabinets of curiosities’ that, although not open to the general public, were well known among the wealthy and cultivated. Cabinets like those of King Frederick III in Copenhagen, Ferrante Imperato in Naples, and Aldrovandi in Bologna (Daston & Park, 1998) are good examples of that initial germ that culminates with the opening of the museums. Some of these cabinets or collections (such as the one belonging to Pedro Franco Da´vila, which was sold at an auction in Paris in 1771 and was the beginning of the Spanish National Natural History Museum) went on to constitute an important part of the initial collections of some present day museums (Barreiro, 1992).

Fig. 1. The first guide of the Spanish Natural History Museum, where it is stressed the sense of ‘wonder’.

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The relationship between the public and exhibitions in the history of museums is complex, and has been only partially worked out (Shapiro, 1990). A few remarks will be enough for the purpose of this paper. As is well known, and mentioned in various sources, the ‘cabinet of curiosities’ (Fig. 2) was not only ‘.a place where objects were housed; it was also a setting in which relationships were formed’ (Findlen, 1994). It was the centre of literary gatherings, where a fresh and continuous dialogue was established between the expert and the simply curious. This dialogue took place between experts and the wealthy aristocratic owner of the collections. The first museums opened to the general public were not uniform in their public–exhibition

Fig. 2. A recreation of the ‘cabinets of wonders’ by Rosamond Purcell (MNCN).

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relationship. At the Spanish Royal Cabinet (inaugurated in November 1776), open two days a week, the guards taking care of the exhibition were soldiers; there is no record that they were specially trained to talk to the public (Barreiro, 1992). The Spanish King Charles III, the sponsor of the Royal Cabinet, was a regular visitor, and it is supposed that he got the attention he demanded. However, other museums, like the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford, had a different beginning. As Hackman (1992) remarks ‘the original Ashmolean, the first public museum in this country [G.B.] celebrated the new scientific outlook of the Renaissance’. This museum followed the Baconian model, expressed in his New Atlantis, as an imaginary Salomon’s House, ‘a place for all to visit and so enter the drama seeking truth through science and share the harvesting of its benefits’. Hackman continues, ‘Science was seen as a social activity in which contributions were made according to individual abilities and personal interests.’ This trend of interactions, which should be further documented to determine its generalizability globally, made museums early on and at least in these countries, the place for the diffusion of science to the educated world, and originated the modern science departments of the University. There can be no doubt that the original cabinets were a place of encounter, discussion, dialogue and wonder (Daston & Park, 1998; Findlen, 1994). The essence of this personal act of discovery and wonder, along with the dialogue between the privileged visitor, the owner of the Cabinets and the professional, have diminished in the everyday life of many present day museums. We are surrounded by such huge amounts of information—sights, sounds, smells and tastes, etc.—that it is difficult to think of some object or material that has not previously been represented in some way in the mind of the casual museum visitor. On the other hand, left on their own, the museum visitor sees the museum as impersonal. Two-way dialogue has become, in many cases, sporadic and almost nonexistent. Under such circumstances, the role played by natural history museums has often been to simply flesh out the representation of an object with a physical reference, providing ‘substance’ for organisms or objects seen in documentaries or photographs. Presently, many museums do not make use of opportunities to ‘dialogue’ with their visitors in a creative fashion, i.e. they do not foster visitor curiosity nor enhance their sense of wonder via a conceptual dialogue that allows the visitors to develop questions and work on answers to them. Some exhibitions nowadays speak in an almost uni-directional manner to their visitors. How then to renew the visitor’s relationships with museum exhibitions, and make exhibits engaging and interesting (Ansbacher, 2003)? The aim of this article is to reflect upon how to re-establish a two-way dialogue between exhibitions and visitors, as with the first cabinets, and regain a necessary sense of wonder. 2. Some assumptions about natural history museums Exhibiting, collecting and research have been traditionally the three main attributes that identify the natural history museum’s role, although new and creative programs involving museums with nature protection are gaining increasing importance. Examples of the latter are the ‘Adopt a River’ program at the Canadian Museum of Nature in Ottawa, Canada, or the ‘Youth Forum on Sustainability’ at the Royal Saskatchewan Museum in Regina, Canada (www.nature.ca; www.royalsaskmuseum.ca). The relationship between exhibitions, collecting and research is not always clear, however (Kotler & Kotler, 2000). These three activities conventionally connected museums to their communities in three ways (Stapp, 1998): exhibiting—through which museums contribute to community development (i.e. education); collecting—through which museums preserve and document the evidence for present and future

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generations (e.g. the biodiversity on earth), and research—that keeps museum knowledge alive and involves museums in projects with social impact, such as documenting species richness and singularity for areas to be protected. In addition, it could be said that research is the inspirational ‘alma mater’ of any exhibition and collection. The role of collections in exhibitions, on the other hand, is more complex. The main purpose of collecting, to record organisms for future generations, is a race against time (Linnie, 2000). Indiscriminate use of collection material in exhibitions will only accelerate the natural process of deterioration. At the same time, collection material is one of the primary components of any exhibition. Visitors come primarily to the museum to see real, natural organisms, not plastic replicas and, sometimes, a compromise between these two opposing tendencies is difficult to reach. There is no general rule on how to handle this dichotomy. But unlike the case of libraries and archives, where on most occasions (but not all) a digital replica will serve the same purpose as the original manuscript, in natural history exhibitions no digital replica, or the like, can substitute for a properly prepared real specimen. That being said, for special celebrations like Museum Day or a particular museum’s anniversary, the collection itself could be the main motive for a visit. This restricted and selective availability of collections could still build a bridge to the general public and, at the same time, guarantee collection continuity. Focusing on exhibitions themselves, the following points are generally assumed to be the most effective, or at least the ones that guide the building of exhibitions in many museums. The focus of an exhibition must be grounded on a general idea that should be powerful enough to yield a multiplicity of derived ideas. The general idea should either present something new and (or) put something already known in a new perspective, as this will promote curiosity and wonder. The general idea and those derived from it should be attractive and interesting, with wide implications that could be linked to other scientific disciplines, such as physics, art and literature. As discussed later in this article, exhibitions and related activities ought to present ideas to the public, or otherwise help them understand ideas through a process of assisted discovery. Not all questions should be assumed to have an answer. Some challenging ideas should be left open to extend the impact of the exhibition by encouraging continued thinking about it afterwards (Fig. 3). Matter for exhibition

Subjects for on site discussion

Conflicting derived ideas

Main derived ideas

Central Idea

On a cultural side

Connection with art, music & literature

Going deeper

Where to get more information

Fig. 3. A theoretical approach to the modern Natural History exhibitions.

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3. On dialogue and wonder There are potentially several methods to re-establish a two-way dialogue between visitors and exhibitions. While some are more reliable or more informative than others, perhaps the least useful is a paper and pencil survey at the end of the visit to gauge visitors’ impressions and reactions. More instructive is the use of a Web page, where the visitor can find additional information on the subject matter in the exhibition, and some way to express or share feelings and opinions. Visitors that look for additional details after their visit are assumed to be specifically motivated and could be asked to answer general and specific questions about the exhibition. Conducting face-to-face, open-ended interviews after the experience can also be useful if the interviews are phrased in such a way that the person can express their real views and perspectives. An even better way to establish dialogue is to have personal guides assist visitors in touring the exhibition, helping to fulfil their expectations and to stimulate responses to the items that are on display. Very common in many museums today, this implies that the guides employed by a museum not only have a specific ‘narrative’ to tell, but are also specially trained to record visitors’ responses and curiosities. To make this approach effective, additional information sheets specifically elaborated for the guides could be filled in after the tour. This would help to understand the whys and wherefores of public response. New and more creative ways to interact with visitors are also being developed. A good example are the ‘interactive kiosks’, installed in several places within the exhibitions at the Science Museum in London (2000), where science students are available to interact freely with the public and comment on controversial issues of science and technology. It is easy to imagine how this kind of on-site interaction might be extended. Though we prefer human interactions, technological developments could also be considered that would make visits more interactive and, at the same time, a source of information regarding curious visitors’ preferences (Gonza´lez-Castan˜o, Garcı´a-Reinoso, Gil-Castin˜eira, Costa-Montenegro, & Pousada-Carballo, 2005). Two other aspects that an exhibition should promote are wonder and extended inquiry. Wonder comes from surprise, astonishment or mystification, and is also synonymous with awe, admiration and amazement (Fergusson, Manser, & Pickering, 2000). These emotional responses depend more on the way we look at things, or the way we display them, than on formal content. But display techniques can also be used, with care, to facilitate these responses. Displays without much content become repetitious. For example, the first time that ‘suspended action’ was used in the movie, The Matrix, it was greatly admired. This technique is now used even in everyday advertisements, and has become an almost ‘boring experience’. Similarly, although real or plastic replicas of human skeletons are common in school, von Hagen’s exhibition Body Worlds (Moore & Brown, 2004), in which plasticized cadavers are shown in different attitudes and compositions, has fostered awe and controversy. How long will it take to accommodate this view of human anatomy within our learning experience and change awe to familiarity? Sensibility changes with familiarity, and a notable example will suffice. Freaks, a film whose main characters have body anomalies, was banned in UK for 30 years, but can now be seen. The actors turn out to be human, unfortunately, but human, nonetheless. We should view them not with horror but with sympathy and understanding. Not only sensitivity changes with familiarity. A deeper knowledge and recognition of the value of nature has made the hunting of big game ‘unfashionable’, so that it has been substituted with ‘photographic’ hunting. Grotesque exhibitions of animals depicted in human attitudes (Fig. 4), once a popular museum theme, are no longer acceptable.

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Fig. 4. A typical grotesque display (MNCN).

It is our experience that even the common and everyday, when properly presented, will produce wonder, just when one realizes ‘how unnatural’ our natural world can be. A photo of a fly can be a very common experience, but a magnified 3D view of its leg can inspire awe and mystification. As mentioned previously, there are no general rules about provoking wonder, although there are some common principles. For instance, once the general idea for an exhibition has been determined, try to look at different ways to present it. Novel presentation techniques can be stimulating, promote paradox, offer contrasting situations, and also help to foster inner reflection. Finally, including some surprising element in the exhibition can also be helpful. The following two practical exhibit cases can illustrate these principles. The first of these links the perception of biodiversity, an important idea in natural history, with the profound implications for the shrinking space available to the biota. The second is about evolution. 4. A biodiversity exhibition theme The term biodiversity is conceptually complex and gives rise to a large set of questions and some unexpected answers (Wilson, 1988; 1999). For example, the concept of species gives rise to questions about continuity versus discreteness, often based on the way we see the world.

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The active process of perception involves establishing discrete boundaries in some cases (sometimes capriciously), but blurring limits in others. The general idea in this exhibition could be encapsulated in two words: diversity and disparity. Diversity is the number of different species in an area. Disparity, although related to diversity, measures the variation between different structural organic architectures. To clarify, consider that my neighbour’s garden and mine could have the same diversity, but a different disparity, if hers has three species of butterfly and mine only one species of butterfly, one mouse and one elephant. Both would have the same diversity, three species, but my collection of organisms is more disparate. Subjects for a biodiversity exhibition could be: (1) discrimination of species, how we know how many species there are; (2) a disparity/diversity comparison between terrestrial, freshwater, marine and subterranean ecosystems/habitats and (3) world biodiversity hotspots, illustrating the relationship between area and diversity based on island biogeography (MacArthur & Wilson, 1967). A related matter for discussion could include the influence of genetically modified organisms (GMOs) on biodiversity (Fig. 3). A short comment on some of these points follows, but they deserve a fuller discussion which is not possible in this paper. The general public is unaware that there is no general consensus among biologists on what a species really is, nor that around 20 or more species concepts have been proposed, many of them in recent times (De Queiroz, 1998). Here there is a lot of material for displaying and thinking about, including studies on the transcultural discrimination of species, especially those classifications developed by so-called primitive societies (folk taxonomy, Berlin, 1992) and modern day professional biologists. The relevance of species discrimination to the understanding of biodiversity, and especially its influence on conservation, have been pointed out by various authors (e.g. Agapow et al., 2004), as political and legislative measures depend on a clear delimitation of what we need to protect. Related ideas might include variation in perception by different societies, illustrated by differences in colour perception and conceptualisation processes in different human groups. This is still a matter of debate (Berlin & Kay, 1999; Lucy, 1997; Roberson et al., 2000; Saunders & van Brakel, 1997), but a recent publication by Kay and Regier (2003) suggests there is enough room to offer some provocative questions to the public. It can be problematic to mix religion and science in a science museum exhibit, and some people are heavily opposed to this. However, we think it is an open question that could be discussed by the museum community, and can easily imagine an exhibition with a subject like: ‘Natural history in the Bible and other religious texts.’ In the same way, the Old Testament story of Noah’s Ark could potentially be a vehicle for presenting the relationship between biodiversity and area, as it points clearly to the problems and challenges posed for the survival of a large diversity of organisms in a reduced space. Since the occurrence of universal floods is not limited to the Bible, (more than 300 stories of this myth originating in Mesopotamia have been recorded—see Cohn, 1996), the idea of a universal flood and the design of a vessel to save the biota could be used very profitably. But bear in mind that in some countries it is considered inappropriate to integrate religious traditions within science exhibitions and programs. An alternative scheme is suggested by the recent film Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, where an evil mind, Dr Totenkopf, pretends to send off a spaceship filled with representatives of all the biota of the earth. Any similar idea would pose many questions, some of them without an answer, including the minimum number required to keep a species going. Issues of minimum population size, and the interaction and interdependence of organisms are pertinent here. The improbability of this situation could help to organize a set of questions in the mind of the visitor.

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The more troublesome subject of the influence of genetically modified organisms (GMOs) on biodiversity could be dealt with by science students, or specially prepared guides on site. There is a lot of uncertainty and social concern related to this matter (Beringer, 2000; Ferber, 2000). Good examples that elaborate upon this uncertainty and the social concerns related to these issues include the growth of genetically modified salmon (Devlin, D’Andrade, Uh, & Biagi, 2004), the risk of persistence in wild populations from interactions with transgenic ones (Hedrick, 2001; Youngson, Dosdat, Saroglia, & Jordan, 2001), the relationship between GMO corn and butterflies (Sears et al., 2001), and the more recent study of Bohan et al. (2005) relating the genetically modified oilseed (rape) and its effects on weed and invertebrate abundance. On the cultural side, the diversity of spices and food habitats in different societies is a subject deeply connected to biodiversity. The role of spices, including the provision of macronutrients and disguising the taste or smell of spoiled foods (Billing & Sherman, 1998), could be endangered as a result of a loss in biodiversity, which would have a profound impact on our daily habits. 5. On Evolution Evolution is a scientific theory and a cultural idea that many people take for granted, while others plainly reject. Given that only a few people are conceptually and methodologically prepared to clearly understand its finer details and consequences, our suggestion is to build an evolution exhibition around change and transformation. The subject matter could include evidence for evolution, the mechanisms of evolution, the origin of life and the origin of humanity. A special topic for on-site discussion could be the attack of Intelligent Design proponents on evolutionary science. We comment briefly on these topics below. We are all familiar with the idea of change in everyday life. Our bodies and minds change with time, as does the appearance of our natural surroundings with the seasons, etc. We have no problem dealing with the idea of change. The trouble arises when we move to transformation. For example, it takes time and study to understand the relationship between the larvae and the adult of some beetles, as transformation is a more radical variation than change. However, we are also familiar with the idea of transformation, as it has been in our culture for as long as change. During medieval times, alchemy was a craft that pursued the transformation of the elements, and it seems that in the popular mind more than one alchemist may have achieved this objective (Clericuzio, 1997; Schummer, 2003). This idea of transformation was easily accepted by society. In the case of biology, the transformation of rotten material into small animals—the spontaneous generation of animals—spread from Aristotle (Guyenot, 1941). As late as 1836, Andrew Crosse thought that he could create a small animal, an acari named Acarus crossi, by passing a current through a salt solution (Haining, 1979). If we go back to the time before the establishment of the present major religions, the primitive sense of ‘magic’ was permeated by the idea of transformations—divinities becoming humans, humans becoming animals, etc. It was easy for people then to think in terms of transformation, even though the changes were not real (Luck, 1985). A parallel line of reasoning accompanies the idea of evolution. Change can occur everywhere and everyday at no extra cost: the change of children into parents, the change in the characteristics of a population and so forth. We have no difficulty in accepting this kind of change. However, when it comes to the idea of a bird originating from a reptile or the transformation of apes into humans, then acceptance takes longer. It is a paradox of the human mind that we are more ready to accept the occurrence of an unsupported ‘fact’, such as

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the transformation of lead into gold, than to accept the theory of evolution for which a comprehensive theory and abundant supporting evidence exist. The propensity of the human mind to find ‘patterns’ where there aren’t any (Efron & Tibshirani, 1994), or to accept an explanation for non-existent facts, is very well documented (Gilovich, 1991). A comprehensive and accessible explanation of the mechanisms of change and transformation in the biological world, including the origin of life and humanity, should follow. Plenty of information about this can be found in modern evolution textbooks (e.g. Futuyma, 1998), and many displays could be developed to show evidence of evolution. Earlier proponents of evolution had to persuade their contemporaries by focusing on comparative anatomy, palaeontology, biogeography and embryology (Dodson & Dodson, 1985). Modern results of developmental embryology deserve broad exposure, and give support to change and transformation concepts. Classical population genetics also provide a good explanation of small evolutionary changes. The most recent developmental genetics address major evolutionary innovations or transformations resulting from mutation of regulatory genes, including the altering of the genetic target of regulatory proteins, the altering of the spatial expression of regulatory genes, changes in the temporal expression of regulatory genes, and selection of variants that are caused by developmental plasticity (Gilbert, 2003). These ideas, when properly exhibited, could become a source of fascination. A good ending, as important as a good beginning, helps to retain visitors’ attention and engagement throughout an exhibition. A pleasant way to end could be with a demonstration on the cultural side, showing how a small change can produce a profound transformation in our perception of the physical world. First, the visitor could be exposed to a ‘musical illusion’, where the sound gives the impression of progressive change over a musical scale that does not really exist (Shepard’s paradox). This could be done before presenting something like D. Deutsch’s ‘Phantom Words’, where the repetition of certain sounds with small changes ends in a transformation—the appearance of words that are not in the sounds themselves. These final displays would highlight the fact that the world of transformation through small changes is huge, and that evolution is part of it. 6. Final consideration There is a need to change the way museum exhibitions foster dialogue with their observers, at least in the domain of natural history. Exhibitions should be thought-provoking, questioninspiring, and only partially provide answers. A good exhibition should be an unfinished intellectual dialogue that helps the observer changes the way he/she perceives the world, be it only minimally. Finally, a good exhibition should assist the observer in the formulation of his/her own questions. Acknowledgements We thank Ana Camacho for kindly commenting on a previous version of the manuscript and for providing useful suggestions. Tamara Ferrera, Miguel Vela, Rogelio Sanchez and Jose´ Enrique Gonzalez Fernandez helped with the photographs. We kindly acknowledge the help of Isabel Moro´n, for permission to photograph the old Museum Guide of Miegs. Three anonymous referees have highly improved our first submitted manuscript through detailed critiques and suggestions. Thanks are also due to Robert Janes for his encouragement. Adrian Burton

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and James Cerne revised the manuscript. This work was performed with the partial support of the European project EVK2-CT-2001-00121.

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