Museum Audience Insight

Free Research Opportunity (or at least some more details)

Over the past few years, we have worked with nearly 150 museums across the country, surveying over 30,000 museum-going households about their motivations, expectations, and experiences with museums.

This research, which we have shared widely through this blog, has told us a lot about our repeat visitors.  But it has also raised far more questions. 

Now, we want to dig deeper. We want to figure out if there are certain experiences in childhood that are crucial for the development of what we call Museum Advocates.  We want to understand the different types of Core Visitors, who visit museums often but don't seem to be as engaged as we would like.  Are there ways to engage them more deeply? 

To find out more, we are launching a nation-wide research project.  We'll be looking for a lot of museums, representing a wide variety of genres and from all parts of the country, to apply to participate.  Each participating museum will invite their e-mail lists (and Twitter feeds, and Facebook fans, etc.) to take a survey, and in return, each museum will receive their results, with the overall comps for benchmarking purposes. 

Best of all, for the museums it will be free.  Free data they can use about their museum, and we'll, of course, share the overall results widely with the field.  

Look for more information via this blog, and our e-newsletter, the first week of January.  Mark your calendars so you don't miss it!

Getting Taken for a Ride (and loving it)

Ever had a museum unexpectedly surprise and delight you?  Energize you, and make you think about mundane daily tasks differently?  Former Reach Advisors summer research associate, guest blogger, and self-proclaimed “New York Culture Vulture” Alison Buchbinder had that experience recently, and we loved her “review” of the New York Transit Museum so much, we had to share.

 

 

Like most New Yorkers, I take the subway everyday and I take it for granted. Unless the train is running slowly, I never stop to think about how the subway runs, how it was built, or even how Metrocard revenue is collected and counted. Until my recent visit to the New York Transit Museum.

To enter the museum, visitors (appropriately) descend down the stairs of a decommissioned subway station. A friendly staff member sells tickets from a historic ticket booth, with its beautifully varnished, turned wood bars. The museum's first gallery is a passage with a low burlap cloth ceiling, evoking the feeling of being in an early, unfinished subway tunnel, but papered in historic images of subway construction and newspapers clips. I was surprised to learn that the subway began as a private enterprise and was not a civic amenity until well into the 20th century.

One of my favorite displays in the museum illustrated the evolution of the subway's fare system, from paper tickets to tokens to today's Metrocards. The best part were the examples of fake tokens that people had passed off as the real thing, including a quarter that someone had taken the pains to punch a "Y" out the middle of, just like a real token from the '70s. The board of fakes perfectly illustrated a conversation my friend and I had on our way to the museum. As he tells it, there was a coin in Costa Rica that was the exact size, shape, and weight as the MTA subway token. Illegal vendors on the street would sell a bag of the coins for a few dollars to fare evaders. Still, even the modern Metrocard experienced evasion kinks, as someone discovered if you creased the magnetic strip just so, the computers in the turnstiles would think a valueless card still had enough value on it for a ride.

In the same gallery are old station turnstiles. The first turnstiles had heavy wooden arms and were operated by an attendant who pushed a footlever, which allowed a passenger to turn the arm and enter the station. It's a far cry from the sleek, polished stainless steel, computer operated turnstiles the MTA uses today. We even learned why the sides of the today's turnstile are slanted and the barred passage is so narrow: the slanted slides keep people from getting a purchase on top, so they can't jump over the arm, and the narrow entrance dissuades people from crouching and going underneath the arm. Given that challenge and the opportunity (we wouldn't be arrested for fare evasion in the museum), we took turns sneaking through the turnstile. We also tested the other historic turnstiles and loved that the museum allowed us to interact with and touch the artifacts (after withstanding millions of people year after year, what's a few thousand more at the museum?).

The lowest level of the museum is the decommissioned station's platform, where subway cars dating from 1904 to the present are lined up on the downtown and uptown tracks. Interesting fact: subway cars were wooden until an accident shattered one and killed 93 people in 1918.  After that, cars were made of metal. Another interesting fact: subway revenue used to be collected at the stations at night and then taken by specially guarded subway cars on dedicated tracks to a carefully concealed money room in Brooklyn (since 2006, it's taken by armored car to Queens).

The subway cars are open and people are free to wander in and out, sit on the seats, and hang on the straps. In the cars, we spent a lot of time looking at the old maps--graphic design has come a long way--and the old advertisements, which have been around since the very beginning. As we were traveling back to Park Slope, we looked around at the ads in our car and realized that the ads have evolved a lot. There are fewer of them and they're longer and horizontally oriented. Even up until the 1970s, there were more and they were smaller, with a more vertical orientation. Today’s ads push services, promote tourist destinations, or are sponsored by the MTA to make you feel good about the transit authority. The historic ads sold goods, not experiences.

I really can't gush about the museum enough because I left so energized. I love when I go to a museum and it dynamically teaches me about a segment of the world I interact with everyday. I love that the museum allowed me to explore and touch the artifacts - large-scale artifacts that are also, by the way, incredibly sticky for young children. And I loved that my experience interacting with the museum objects was informed by and now informs how I relate to my everyday environment.

 

Have you ever had a museum surprise, and energize, you?  Simply click on “comments” below to share your thoughts (and if you are reading this from your e-mail subscription, go to our blog to comment).

One Man's Crusade: Stephen Colbert's quest to save the Generation Y male from himself

The Generation Y male, in his late teens or twenties, is a fascinating mixture of technical prowess and media savvyness.  He is also, well, having circles run around him by the Generation Y female.

Now before we go any further, yes, there are Generation Y males who are incredibly smart, well-educated, who read, go to museums, give back to their community, and who are creative geniuses.  They do exist (and if you are a Generation Y male reading this, we bet you are one of them). 

BUT we are talking in generalizations here, and, in general, this generation of young men has seen their female peers succeed, and intellectually grow, at dizzying rates.

Consider:

• Today, women in their 20s are nearly 50% more likely to have a college degree than men in their 20s.
• In most major metropolitan areas, the gender gap has reversed, and women in their 20s outearn men in their 20s . . . the gap's grown to as much as $1.20 for every $1.00 a young man earns (and we bet this has increased as the recession has disproportionately hit young men who work in finance and real estate/construction).
• Additionally, in our research women in their 20s are nearly twice as likely to read and/or visit museums in their leisure time.  They are also three times more likely to participate in art activities, twice as likely to be what we call "Creative Consumers," and are nearly 50% more likely to give money to causes they care about (in contrast, men are 2.5 times more likely than women to say they "don't change my life for causes"). 

Enter Stephen Colbert, the star of The Colbert Report.  We have blogged about him before, and we bet this will not be the last time we focus in on this media juggernaut.  The Colbert Report is an incredibly popular show, particularly with young men.  And Stephen Colbert is engaging them, and making them care, about things that, well, we want people to care about.  Such as:
    

• Museums.  In his efforts to have his portrait considered a "National Treasure" and part of the Smithsonian's collections, he doubled visitation at the National Portrait Gallery during the period his portrait was on display.  Undoubtedly a huge number of those visitors were young men.  (By the way . . . his efforts ended up being successful as his portrait is now part of the permanent collection of the National Museum of American History.)
• Science.  When NASA announced a competition to name the newest wing of the space station, Stephen Colbert encouraged viewers to write in "Colbert" as their entry. "Colbert" garnered four times more votes than any other entry.  OK, so NASA declined to actually name the space station wing after Colbert . . . . but they did name the treadmill installed in the space station the "Colbert." 
• Politics.  He talks about politics all the time on the show.  It is news satire.  But he also took action . . . by attempting to get on the Presidential ballot for the South Carolina primaries.  He didn't get on the ballot, but not by lack of signatures.  And viewers learned more about the election process along the way.
• Iraq.  He cares passionately about the soldiers in Iraq (though his real position on the war itself is unclear).  He doesn't want us to forget that young men and women are making big sacrifices there.  To help increase morale, he spent a week in Iraq this June, filming his show (and he got a crew cut to match his camouflage suit).  Soldiers loved it.  And it was yet another way of keeping Iraq front and center in our lives.
• Philanthropy.  Through his show he has encouraged viewers to donate to worthy causes.  In 2008 his viewers donated over $250,000 to donorschoose.org.  Just last month he announced the support of Colbert Nation for US Speedskating, which had just lost their biggest sponsor.  He encouraged viewers to financially support our speedskating team . . . and they donated over $40,000 in just the first 24 hours.  And you know he will keep encouraging them to do so.  (Additionally, we bet you that viewers, regardless of whether they donated or not, will be much more engaged in the speedskating events during the Winter Olympics.  They'll care because Stephen Colbert made them care through his support and coverage.)

So why does this matter to museums?  Stephen Colbert is reaching out to what is probably the toughest, most jaded audience segment out there, young men.  He is forcing them to care, and they are responding.  And isn't that something that museums strive to do? 

Why do you think Stephen Colbert succeeds at reaching young men?  His humor?  His ability to poke fun at himself?    And what do you think museums can learn from The Colbert Report?  Simply click on “comments” below to share your thoughts (and if you are reading this from your e-mail subscription, go to our blog to comment).

A Really Good Rejection Letter

We've posted examples of the best and worst thank you notes in prior posts, but we have an interesting twist today:  A really good rejection letter.  

 

As some of you know, part of the team here focuses on museums, while others also work on other community-based enterprises such as municipalities.  We're working on tourism development strategy for one of them, and for that work we approached a potential partner since they had an event that fit a piece of our client's strategy.  But...the pitch didn't work.  Instead, we got a rejection letter.  And it's the best I've seen.  

 

Why did this rejection letter stand out?  

• First, it created a real connection.  It was clear that someone actually gave it consideration and cared.  
• Second, it showed that there's a real strategy behind their thinking, one worth respecting.  
• Third, they left the door open in case there's a more logical fit down the road.  
• Finally, they left me feeling even better about their brand, even though they said no.  I'm now a fan.

 

We realize this is a bit of a diversion from our normal posts, but we thought it would be an interesting example for those who have to turn down solicitations from the community, and those who want to see how a really effective marketer thinks.  (If you're interested in knowing who they are, just email us.)  Here's their (slightly edited) rejection letter:

 

Hey James,

___ passed your email along to me…I’m our events director here at ___, so I’m hopefully equipped to answer your questions!

First off, thanks for thinking of bikes, number one, and us number two. Glad to hear that you and ___ are getting more butts on bikes. That’s great. As I guess you’ve figured out, we like to do the same.

I’m guessing you’re close to right that ___ could provide a very friendly town for us to bring our bling to. We’ve spent some time in that neck of the woods as a sponsor of several other great events, and know that we’re a pretty like minded pairing.

Unfortunately, we’ve already had the hard conversations with many, many folks regarding our lineup for 2010. The toughest part of that annual discussion that we’ve had to tackle as of late has been the shift from ___ to larger urban locations. Two things have driven that for us. One, as this ballyhoo gets bigger, it’s becoming less and less cost effective to do it in ___ (not simply for day of attendance, but the power of advertising it to a broader market). Secondly, the message has become more and more about commuting (as you seem to know) and, although ANYONE can commute, we’re able to dive much deeper with that message in an urban location. I’m sure we’d end up preaching to an impressive choir in ___.

So, alas, I’m not sure that we’ve got much to offer the ___ riders this upcoming summer from the ___ vantage point. Thank you for thinking of us though. We are currently developing other events, as well as always looking for the right sponsorships, so don’t hesitate to reach out to us anytime you see something that might be a fit.

Thank you for doing so in this instance as well! Good luck!

Meredith

 

We would love to hear your thoughts.  Simply click on “comments” below to share your thoughts (and if you are reading this from your e-mail subscription, go to our blog to comment).

School Field Trips Up in Smoke (Traveler's Rest isn't, though)

When I was in fourth grade, we were scheduled to go on a field trip to a historic house museum, Traveler’s Rest.  We gathered that morning in the school lunchroom, ready to board the buses.  The air crackled with excitement.  Someone had heard there was Indian blood on the stairs of the house from an attack!  The titillation of seeing that.

And then Miss Fannie Mae Baker, one of the teachers, came in and told us, in grave tones that, sadly, Traveler’s Rest had burned down just last night.  We were all devastated. 

Turns out Miss Baker was just teasing us (she is a lovely lady, by the way).  Traveler’s Rest is still calmly standing and welcoming visitors, mysterious red-stained stair and all (though the “Indian” story is pretty well debunked). 

I remember that trip fondly and vividly, and I bet at least some of my White County Elementary School classmates feel likewise. 

This morning, the Wall Street Journal ran an article about school field trips, sharing the excitement kids felt about taking hikes, going to plays, and visiting museums.  But, as the article continues, those trips are increasingly being cut as school budgets shrink.  Even free museums, with travel funds to give to schools, are seeing fewer bookings as schools cut back every incidental penny they can find. 

It is a shame, and could have long-term ramifications that will haunt museums for years.  Why?  Our preliminary research indicates about a quarter of Museum Advocates had seminal childhood memories of museums . . . from school field trips.  School field trips appear to be a critical pathway to lifelong learning for children who may not otherwise visit museums with their families.  These cuts shut out important experiences for children that can, ultimately, lead to a habit of learning, curiosity, and museum-going in adulthood . . . . and in future generations. 

We have posted on this subject before, and as we continue our research on Museum Advocates this winter, we will undoubtedly post again.  Bottom line, school field trips are important.

Do you have fond memories of childhood field trips?  How has your museum dealt with school budget cuts?  We would love to hear your thoughts.  Simply click on “comments” below to share your thoughts (and if you are reading this from your e-mail subscription, go to our blog to comment).

 -Susie

What Not To Do (or, why I hate (most) guided tours)

It was, as a friend of mine would say, a GD.  A Great Disappointment. 

Yesterday another dear friend, Pauline Eversmann (retired from Winterthur Museum), and I were on one of the worst guided tours either of us have ever experienced. 

Now I have made no secret that while I love historic house museums, I dislike their standard interpretive format – the guided tour.  I am not alone.  Turns out many Core Visitors to museums are not fans either, as our previous research has shown. 

So what made this tour so egregiously awful?  It wasn’t the house and was completely the guide, who in this case was a (supposedly) trained professional.  Based on this tour, here is a “do not do” list for guided tours.

• Don’t shut out your audience.  This guide never, not even once, invited us to ask questions.  He did not even hold out the possibility of asking.  He totally missed out on the opportunity to engage his audience by sharing information about the things, and stories, that may have interested us more.
• Don’t talk about yourself.  Not only was he disinterested in us, he was supremely interested in, well, his interests.  And was constantly interjecting his preferences and thoughts into his spiel.  I really didn’t care how many languages he could speak and/or read (this is relevant how?).  I don’t mind a guide saying “this is my favorite room” or “this is my favorite object,” and lending personality to a tour, but this was constant, irrelevant, and annoying.
• Don’t gripe.  Yes, it is too bad that the property is much reduced and is now surrounded by heavy traffic.  Acknowledge it, tell us why, and move on.  Don’t constantly gripe about it.  Of course, on this tour, it was only one of a few things he griped about.  Unnecessary and off-putting. 
• Don’t mumble.  Enunciate.  Pauline cannot hear out of one ear, and she struggled to understand what he was saying.  There is a reason why many older audiences prefer audio tours – you can control the volume, direct it in the ear, replay if you miss something, and the narrators tend to speak clearly. 
• Don’t look at your watch.  OK, yes, you can sneak a peek once or twice to make sure you are pacing yourself.  He looked at his watch in every single room.  In an obvious way.  It made us feel that we were being herded, almost like an unwelcome intrusion that must be dealt with and gotten rid of. 
  

I also have four more “don’ts” from other terrible tours I have suffered:

• Don’t tell us about your own genealogy.  Especially when it is totally unconnected to the house and the people who lived there.
• Don’t start your tour by singing the theme song from Gilligan’s Island.  Enough said.
  
• Don’t make bad jokes.  Including the sexist ones. 
  
• Don’t forget to bathe.  Honestly.  I cannot believe I had to include this one. 

While most tours I have been on have been indifferent at best, I have had stellar guided tours (thank you, Drayton Hall, for the best tour I have ever, ever experienced).  And I have been on supremely funny ones (bless the guide at Boscobel who said that Thomas Jefferson had the “hots” for Campeche chairs – which is, by the way, true).

But, ultimately, our research tells us that guided tours are not a preferred form of interpretation for many of our visitors, and our experience yesterday illustrates why that is so.  I certainly do not want to return to this house museum, or take other guests there, even though the house, and the story of the truly remarkably family that lived there, is absolutely fascinating. 

With many historic house museums struggling to survive, guided tours may be a contributing factor to their diminishing audiences.  I realize that, for small organizations, they are the most cost effective way of securely sharing a property, but isn’t it time to find more compelling, and engaging, ways to do so?

Do you have any do’s or don’ts from guided tours you have experienced?  We would love to hear your thoughts.  Simply click on “comments” below to share your thoughts (and if you are reading this from your e-mail subscription, go to our blog to comment).

-Susie

Okay, you have GOT to check out that bathroom!

This summer, when visiting the Newseum for the first time, I stepped into the restroom.  And it ended up being one of my favorite spots in the museums.  Why?  It was tiled with giggle-inducing headlines like this one: 

Restrooms.  We all have to have them, we all have to use them.  We have talked about restrooms before on this blog, primarily in the context of how clean they are.  Totally important.  (The Newseum's restrooms were very clean.)  But is there an opportunity for engaging our audiences more deeply . . . in the loo?  

Well, yes.  In some recent research we conducted on behalf of the National Museum of African American History and Culture, one young woman made the case for also having a remarkable restroom:

Everyone loves a clean restroom. I like an interesting restroom. It bugs me when I go to an art museum, for example, and the walls are bare white. It's like a blank canvas - couldn't they even find a university student to come in and do a mural for them or something? Or maybe even put some of the collection that's rotated out in the ladies' waiting area (and gentleman's equivalent, if they have them). Or at a science museum - paint the periodic table on the walls, tile in the Fibonacci sequence. It just shows such attention to detail, and how neat is it to come out and tell your friends, "Okay, you have GOT to check out that bathroom!"

                                                        - 25-year-old woman

The USS Constitution Museum has been using their restroom as an interpretive tool for years (an interpretive panel can be seen in the image below; why my beloved dog, Shadow, is posing with it wearing a holiday scarf is a completely different story).  Asking, and answering, where the sailors "went" is educational, funny, and gives people something to talk about. 

Yet there is something else about this restroom that makes people talk.  As Robert Kiihne, the museum's Director of Exhibits, recently posted on their excellent Family Learning Forum, their restrooms are also ". . .  dark, grey . . . and poorly ventilated. Visitors complain about them - even when the restrooms have just been cleaned. I am sure that for every visitor that complains 10 more are just turned off."

Which takes us back, of course, to cleanliness.  So clean restrooms, yes.  You do not want to be remarkable for your dirty (or just dimly lit) restrooms.  But now that you have that covered, what can you do to make your restrooms remarkable in an exciting and creative way? 

(Finally, the excellent Elizabeth Merritt of AAM would likely badger me if I neglected to mention the splendid Art Museum Toilet Museum of Art.  Check it out.)

Are the restrooms in your museum remarkable?  Why?  Or have you seen particularly remarkable restrooms?  What makes them so?  Simply click on “comments” below to share your thoughts (and if you are reading this from your e-mail subscription, go to our blog to comment).

And if you do have remarkable restrooms in your museum, send us a photo and we'll post it for you.  Send photos to susie (at) reachadvisors (dot) com.

-Susie

Check out these fantastic photos from the Pacific Science Center.  These Grossology restrooms are truly remarkable.  Felicia Maffia, the Director of Exhibit Development, shared with us, "It's really fun for staff to overhear some of the great conversations that happen when visitors encounter these two restrooms."  Thanks, Felicia, for sending these along!

 

 

Iconic Museum Photos

We need your help.

Reach Advisors is in the midst of redesigning our website, and are looking for a couple of iconic museum photos to feature on it.  You know.  That picture that just screams "museum."  Preferably with an inter-generational group in it.  And an exhibit, objects . . . anything that a typical person would look at and instantly think "museum." 

If you have one or more photos that fit this description will you send them our way?  While we won't be able to use all the photos submitted, if we do use your photo we will let you know and give appropriate credit on the website.  And send you a free copy of our book, Life Stages of the Museum Visitor.

Send photos by Friday, October 16 to susie (at) reachadvisors (dot) com.

And thanks!

'Curating' in a new world?

Interesting article on the cover of this week’s SundayStyles section of the New York Times on how the “curating…has become a fashionable code word among the aesthetically minded, who seem to pass it onto any activity that involves culling and selecting.”   The article mentions ‘curators’ who run sneaker stores, flea market swap meets, consignment shops, music websites….  It’s such a sought-after moniker that the article mentions that serving as a guest curator of a design blog, craft fair or department store has become an honor.

It’s easy to write this off as a fad, but in the past few years that we’ve been talking about the concept of the public embracing the role of ‘curating’ their worlds outside the museum sphere, there are a few points that have been fun to kick around:

The obvious driver behind this is the continued acceleration of the internet.  Sure, some of us of a certain age may have made mix tapes in our younger years, but it’s a rather different ballgame when the depth and breadth of creative inputs are far greater than ever before, as is the potential to build a sizable following.  Simultaneously, in a digital world where we’re bombarded with inputs, there’s a real role that these new ‘curators’ fulfill.   Given that we don’t see the internet slowing down anytime soon, this shift clearly fits in our model for fundamental trends likely to continue rather than short-lived fads likely to fade away.

But perhaps a bigger driver behind this shift is that there’s a generation under 30 years old that’s simply far more likely to be wired this way.  That might mean they assume that the curators in their lives are their peers or strangers online…or they think of themselves as curators for their peers…or they view their digital time as a means to curate their own lives.  In part, it’s a logical extension of how young adults have always tried to separate themselves from prior generations.   But our museum audience research and our broader consumer research is pointing towards an entirely new level of generational separation.  The segment within this generation that we call “Extremely Creative Consumers” is a real force, dramatically reshaping the definition of creativity for themselves and those around them.   We’re pretty certain that this shift will end up as one of the defining characteristics of this generation of young adults, even as they progress through later life stages.  The folks at the AAM's Center for the Future of Museums have cleverly coined this as part of the "MyCulture" trend, and we view this as a real force that we're going to see play out for decades to come.

So here are a few interesting questions to ponder:

First:  Does the use (or overuse) of the word "curator" help or hurt museums?  We would argue it might be negative for museums that simply ignore this trend.  Likewise, acknowledging this trend could really help open up the eyes of the public about the role and value of the curating that museums do...but that might take some 'curating' of the work of curators to help audiences see more of how the curating work of museums really matters.

Second:  As more of the public (at least among younger audiences) redefine the role of curating in their lives, does this mean that museums will have to redefine that role as well?  While it’s highly unlikely that this trend gets to the point where we’ll see people mounting their own Calder or dinosaur exhibits from home, is there a way to help passionate amateurs engage more with museums?  We’ve seen some museums start to engage community groups to help curate exhibits or even ‘crowdsource’ some of the key decisions for an exhibit.  Will we see museums enlist amateur 'curators' to assist with online efforts?  Or will we see curators become a far more prominent public face of museums, where a younger audience that is increasingly migrating to a new type of curator can cultivate their passions someplace unexpected...like a museum?  (Any examples out there of where rethinking the role of curating is having positive -- or negative -- impact?)

Third:  We’ve seen in many fields how these shifts have decimated the role of the 'expert.'  The relevance of the editors at Britannica and the World Book has been completely blown to bits by the Wikipedians.  In many markets, for many subjects, the power of the newspaper editor has been usurped by bloggers.  One of the differentiating factors here is that museums deal with more than digitizable bits; there’s also a physical component that’s rather important to many out there. But it’s undeniable that we’re in the midst of a fundamental shift in public attitudes and expectations of the role of the ‘expert’ and their relevance in the lives of the audiences they serve.

A bit frightening…but also sort of exciting to think about ways museums can serve an audience that is increasingly hungry for curated work that enriches their lives.

As always, we look forward to the conversation…  Simply click on “comments” below (and if you are reading this from your e-mail subscription, go to our blog to comment).

What Happens in Vegas May Not Stay in Vegas (if you are a smart marketer, that is)

Reach Advisors is pleased to welcome a new guest blogger, LeAnne Ruzzamenti, Director of Marketing Communications at the Crocker Art Museum.  We have long been impressed by LeAnne’s work at the Crocker, and are delighted to learn where she finds inspiration.  Thanks so much, LeAnne, for contributing to Museum Audience Insight!

A few days in Las Vegas had me inspired: what lessons can museums and marketers learn from the marketing and retail pros? Here were some of my impressions:

These people know how to get a message across. From the moment of departing the airplane, I couldn’t help but be taken in by the advertising that appeared everywhere: in baggage claim (posters, billboard, standing signs on my carousel), on the “subway” within the airport (ads wrapped around the standing doors), on the cabs (roof signs AND trunk signs), and then as we approached Vegas Blvd.: billboards everywhere (ones with video, that light up, change, boast really great creative), buses completed wrapped with beautiful ads (the cost of producing the wrap alone probably accounted for one-third of my museum’s advertising budget). Over stimulation for sure, but after all the goal for the casinos is to get you to come through their doors – to play slots, eat, and shop in their high-end shops, and every message is strongly leading you to that end. As a marketing maven, I couldn’t help be impressed. I was hooked into reading nearly every billboard, video, cab, and bus ad and trying to decide who had the most powerful messages and creative.

They deliver on brand promise. Vegas promises that if you come, you are guaranteed to have a great time and feel good even while you gamble your money and spend sums of money on items that you’d consider outrageously priced back home. They know their brand now, “What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas,” and they hit it from every angle. Everything points to entertainment, and rest assured you will find the activities that energize, refresh, and entertain you.

Customer service is supreme. I was impressed when we walked 8 feet from the parking garage and were met by a hotel host who escorted us to the specific check-in line that we should join. After that I was harder to impress. A security officer stood outside the guest elevator doors and greeted us each time we went to our room, a presence for our safety, to feel as though we were “approved” to leave the casino floor and enter the guest room area, although they didn’t check keys or question us. Beautiful girls in matching suits wandered the casino floor and pool asking what we’d like to drink. Waiters, maître d’s, bus boys, sommeliers, all attended to our needs while dining.  Why the emphasis on customer service?  There are lots of options. I can easily walk across the street to another casino.

They sell in smart ways. While I snacked on nachos at a shopping mall, I heard a woman sell and upsell frozen daiquiris in such persistent ways, it made me want to recruit her to sell memberships at my museum’s front desk. We were offered opportunities to join frequent players’ clubs, spin wheels for free gifts, upgrade our show seats to premium location, shop during special hours, attend clubs with VIP status. They ask and sell and most of the offers were to customize our experience. 

So while taking all this in, I still wasn’t finding the direct ties to the museum field. After all, the Las Vegas Art Museum closed early this year and the Guggenheim at the Venetian closed nine months prior to that, closures that were blamed on Las Vegas abandoning the family and cultural tourist and not committing to greater cultural experiences. Then I happened by the Ferrari dealership in the Wynn Hotel where they charge $10 admission (most museums I frequent have admission rates at $10 or less) and this was a car dealership. It was then that I realized that there was much museums can learn from Vegas.

LeAnne Ruzzamenti is the Director of Marketing Communications for the Crocker Art Museum in Sacramento, California. 

Have any thoughts or comments?  Share them with us by clicking on "comments" below.  (If you are reading this from your e-mail subscription to the blog, please go to our blog's website to add a comment.)

Cultural Resource Center . . . Ticket Tuesday . . . and Don't You Think Macie Is the Cutest?

A quick roundup of some interesting things coming across our screens lately:

The Connecticut Humanities Council has pulled together a ton of resources in their online Heritage Resource Center.  From resources and links on audiences to leadership to finance, they have done a terrific job pulling together a lot of information, in one spot, and with annotations so you can better find what you are looking for.  I have already found it extremely helpful more than once. 

The Greater Philadelphia Cultural Alliance just released a study called Research Into Action.  One of their key findings was that African Americans and Hispanics in Philadelphia were more culturally active than Caucasians.  Since many museums struggle to effectively reach minority audiences, and since the minority population is increasing dramatically in the US (see the "Museums and Society 2034" white paper we wrote for AAM's Center for the Future of Museums for more information on that), this finding is intriguing.  I am still reading the report thoroughly myself, so stay tuned as I dig through it.

Finally, I love the recent activity on COSI's Facebook page.  Yesterday, for Ticket Tuesday, they awarded a pair of tickets to the first person to answer a trivia question correctly.  And last week they invited fans to post photos of their cute pets on COSI's wall.  Cutest one gets a gift card to a pet supply store and free tickets.  On Facebook go to COSI Columbus' Dynamic Hands-On Science Center and check out the activity . . . and the pics.  (Macie Marie Wilkening is the black-and-white dog with the rawhide.  Obviously she is cutest!)

We'd love to hear if you have seen anything interesting coming across your screens, from resources to fun social networking activity.  Simply click on "comments" below (and if you are reading this from your e-mail subscription, go to our blog to comment).

- Susie

Intellectual Intimacy . . . Gone Virtual

I had a chance to chat with Terry Davis of the American Association for State and Local History at an event last week, and we were reflecting on their recent annual conference that also included a bold experiment to run an 'online conference' as well.  The online conference was designed to increase the number of museum staff members that could engage with the conference programming, even if they couldn't travel to Indianapolis.  By my rough calculations, more than a quarter of the AASLH conference 'attendance' was in the online conference rather than in person (and that's probably heavily underestimated since many of the online registrations included the participation of multiple staff members).

 

Having presented online, and in a regular conference session with Connecticut Landmarks and the Connecticut Humanities Council, I noted a few things:  The live session was a small audience, but had a very senior level of rather engaged attendees.  The online session had about five times more attendees, almost equally engaged.  It ended up as a really great way for AASLH to leverage the content prepared for the conference, extending the reach to a much broader audience.  (I'm really curious to see if the session reviews are any different for the online vs. the live presentation.)

 

Afterwards, we had a more casual online chat with the online producer and Greg Stevens, who runs AAM's online professional education, and talked about how the online experience can be far more engaging than one might expect.  For example, Greg and I realized that we had a strong rapport and working relationship even though we had only met through work on one of his online programs . . . never face-to-face until that moment.  Online isn't such a bad medium for building social glue compared to face-to-face, actually even making it easier to do that with more people.

 

But here's the big question this left me pondering:  It's clear that serious content can be delivered in an engaging manner online.  Could this be a tool that helps museums expand public access to their knowledge and expertise, while engaging a larger audience that is curious and hungry for the kind of stuff that museums are so well suited to provide?  Some universities are doing this as a means to re- engage alumni...with the end goal of supporting their development efforts.  What might this mean for museums? 

 

We'd love to hear any thoughts or questions!  Simply click on “comments” below (and if you are reading this from your e-mail subscription, go to our blog to comment).

- James

Is Art Really Asynchonous? What About Museums?

Recently, marketing guru Seth Godin posted this chart on his blog:

Godin explains how to read the chart:

Here are a dozen or so forms of communication, arranged on two axes.

On the horizontal, they rank from asynchronous (meaning the creator and the responder are separated in time--like a letter) and synchronous (meaning the creator and the responder are in real time proximity to each other--like a phone call).

Up and down, I've charted the quality of the medium. Quality in terms of density of information exchanged. The 140 characters in Twitter is about as low density as you can get other than a stop light. A movie, on the other hand, is loud and bright and two hours long and there's audience reaction and it is edited and designed to evoke a response.

To be clear, then: movies take a long time to make, but they're high impact. Twitter takes a second to do, but there's not a lot of info there. One on one coaching is high enough bandwidth that it can change your life and make you cry, in real time, and the Mona Lisa, while less bits per second than a TV show, has enough emotional bandwidth to matter, even if it's 400 years old.

(To read his entire blog post, click here.)

When I saw this, my initial reaction was to think that museums need to move themselves into that upper right quadrant.  But, is that the right place for a museum to move?  Is the role of a museum to provide transformative experiences for its audience (transformative in the sense that one’s beliefs or understanding or knowledge about the world is changed as a result of the visit)?  And, if a museum seeks to be a place for transformative experiences (for those who seek such experiences) how much of the experience needs to be directed by the museum and how much of it can people accomplish on their own through their interactions with the museum’s objects?  Godin places one type of museum object, art, in the lower left quadrant (and nowhere near my initial thought) - do you agree with that?

Where do you think museums should fall on the chart?  Does it vary by type of museum?  Or type of museum experience?  To share your thoughts click on “comments” below (and if you are reading this from your e-mail subscription, go to our blog to comment). 

- Sally

"Museum going as compulsive consumerism?"

Michael Kimmelman’s recent New York Times article, At Louvre, Many Stop to Snap but Few Stay to Focus, sparked some discussion at Reach Advisors. While the point of the article was interesting, even more interesting were the reader comments that followed. They raised again the questions of why people should visit museums, and what a museum’s role could (or should) be in today’s society.

 

Quotes pulled from the comments following the article:

 

• “And watching the young people, searching out a famous work, focusing the cell phone, clicking - without ever having even looked at the painting. Proof for the folks back home - been there, did that. Museum going as compulsive consumerism.”
• “The majority of the public only goes to museums because they think that somehow they are 'supposed' to, and beyond that, it affords some status to say that one has been to the Louvre, or wherever. Most museum goers do not engage with the art objects or pictures because they simply don't know anything about them, and don't make an effort to prepare to have a meaningful experience by informing themselves. The roots of this, in US culture especially, come from the notion that arts are merely a pleasure, a distraction, and not a necessity or something worthy of intensive study.”             
• “Museums are exhausting. If you think about it, they are a much more concentrated bombardment of images than what the social pundits like to lament we are inundated with in our everyday pop culture, because few of them are trivial, throwaway images, and most people go in believing that. Add to this that we are conditioned to think of museums as some kind of temples housing sacred relics requiring hushed reverence. It's intimidating. Let people have their own fun in the museums. Not everybody's into what you're into, and they're not necessarily the worse for it.”
• “…running from one painting to another as though each was a commodity having no personal connection to the viewer…”

 

Additionally, last week Linda Norris had a complementary blog post about what she observed visitors actually doing at one iconic art museum (including take photos of famous work as well). 

 

It seems that there is a feeling in some quarters that many members of the public, especially those visiting iconic art museums as a part of their role as a tourist, are missing the point of visiting a museum.  They are not really looking at art, famous or not-so-famous.  A Reach Advisors colleague wondered if this is this a view that is shared by any individuals in the museum field?  If yes, do they believe that the visitor is at fault for treating objects as ‘commodities’…or is the museum at fault for failing to connect with its audience?  Is there an intellectual snobbism rearing its head or is there an argument to be made that not all museums are intended to be enjoyed or appreciated by all audiences?

 

What do you think?  To share your thoughts and questions, click on “comments” below (and if you are reading this from your e-mail subscription, go to our blog to comment).

The Magic of Seven-Year-Olds

Note - this article is identical to the one just sent out via our e-newsletter, which we archive via our blog.  For those who subscribe to both the blog and the e-news, we apologize for the duplication!

Over the past couple of years we have talked quite a bit about Museum Advocates - those curious individuals who love going to museums in their leisure time - but where do Museum Advocates come from?  And do they have childhood experiences that are similar?

To find out, we started digging into the patterns and backgrounds of more than 30,000 core visitors to museums to see what separated Museum Advocates from core visitors.  As we started wondering about some of the clues buried in the data, last summer, we asked 110 Museum Advocates in their 20s and 30s to tell us about their earliest childhood museum memories, and then coded those memories to look for patterns.  Additionally, this spring we gathered 501 early museum memories of museum professionals (one from a study of science museum employees, the other from a survey of New England Museum Association members).  While museum professionals are different than the general public, what we found generally reinforced the findings from our Museum Advocates outside the museum field. 

Before we dig into what we found, a quick caveat:  this is just the tip of the iceberg.  Thus far we have examined some early museum memories, and their patterns, among Museum Advocates, but there is far more research to do, such as comparing these memories with those of Core Visitors (those who visit museums often, but tend not to define themselves as curious or to be particularly engaged with museums) and other segments of the general public.  We will be doing much more research to continue to test our hypothesis and the results we have found thus far (and any feedback you have on our findings will be helpful!).
 
Common Themes

 

For all 611 respondents, the mean, median, and mode of earliest museum memories is age seven.  Seven (give or take a year) appears to be a particularly "sticky" time when memories are being made and retained, and museums have the power to create those memories.

 
For about 2/3 of respondents, memories include one or both parents.  Although some individuals specifically mentioned their mom or dad, generally respondents referred to parents or family, implying both parents.  Given that our research indicates that only about a third of moms visit museums with their spouses, this also implies that dad may be rather important to raising new generations of Museum Advocates.  We'll test this theory out in future research, when we will ask more specifically about the roles of both moms and dads. 

For about ¼ of respondents, however, earliest memories were of school field trips, with no mention of any parent.  We were heartened to see this as we were initially afraid we would see a pattern that Museum Advocacy was almost exclusively handed down from parent to child.  Instead, there is a clear path for youngsters to become engaged with museums regardless of the engagement of their parents . . . through school field trips.  School field trips appear to be incredibly important not only to learning and visitation in the short-term, but also for the long-term sustainability of museums and to create a strong pipeline of museum professionals.  So we are increasingly troubled not only by the cuts in field trips by school districts, but also in the number of museums that are discontinuing field trip programming.

What They See Is Important

And when it comes to those early memories, what they see may actually be more important than what they do.  About a third of early memories came from natural history museums alone, a disproportionate number, indicating that natural history museums may have a disproportionate impact on the creation of young Museum Advocates.  Additionally, art museums and history-based showed up at high rates.  Why these types of museums?  Memories tended to be of large-scale, static exhibits that promote internal activity and imagination.  Dioramas, dollhouses, suits of armor, dinosaurs, period rooms.  Objects and exhibits that tend to be highly narrative appeared time and time again.  One of our favorite memories clearly illustrates how a static object can spark internal cognitive activity:  "[I was] maybe 4 years old and running around under the huge whale . . . . I pretended I was swimming with him - and we were friends."

Other museum types do not appear in as many memories.  At first we thought age might be the issue, in that older Museum Advocates were young children before large numbers of children's museums and science centers, in particular, were around.  But when we control for age and only look at respondents in their 20s and 30s, still these types of museums do not show up at nearly the rate of other types.  The only exception?  Overall, current employees (of all ages) of science centers were more likely to remember visits to science centers. 

The low incidence of children's museums is relatively easy to explain.  Many families stop going to children's museums when they feel their oldest child has started to grow out of it, typically around age five or six . . . and before that magic age of seven.  So a smaller incidence makes sense.  The low incidence of science centers is a puzzle, however, though a few more details may shed some light on this, and give us paths of inquiry for future research.

First, the memories from these types of museums are less detailed from natural history, history, and art museums.  Memories tend to be less vivid, more concise.  A typical one might be "went to the science center with my class."  Quite a difference.  At this time, we are postulating that the different narrative quality of the exhibits may be key to this difference, though we will certainly test this theory, among others.

The second thing we noticed is that, overall, hands-on experiences were in very short supply in the collected memories, even, again, when we controlled for age and only looked at younger adults.  Overall, fewer than five percent of memories included a hands-on activity.  And, of course, children's museums and science centers are highly hands-on.

Does this mean hands-on activities are not as important as traditional, static, artifact-based exhibits?  Not at all.  Hands-on activities have been shown to be a tremendously valuable learning format.  Just, for whatever reason, they are not as memorable.  We would suggest that museums continue to offer both types of experiences as they provide different, but equally important, learning opportunities.  Besides, parents of young children view hands-on activities as absolutely essential for a visit.  No question.  They expect them. 

 
These results are, as mentioned earlier, only preliminary, and just scratch the surface of what we think is a very rich vein of future research.  We would love to hear your thoughts as we create the research plan for delving deeper.  (And if you want to share your early museum memories, we would love to hear them too!).  To share your thoughts and questions, click on “comments” below (and if you are reading this from your e-mail subscription, go to our blog  to comment.

Community Engagement and Objects - Mutually Exclusive?

Last week, James Chung, the President of Reach Advisors, was quoted in the Christian Science Monitor as saying "It's not about the collections anymore. It's about community."  Well, as you might imagine, this comment raised a few eyebrows (including my own, since I knew it was out of context!) in the blogosphere.  Chris Norris, of the Prerogative of Harlots blog, wrote eloquently of his visceral reaction to the comment, and we cannot help but respond.  The following is what we posted to Chris’s blog:

 

Hi Chris – Thanks for the provocative post. 

As you likely realize, when one talks to journalists one says a ton of things, and often only one snippet, one phrase ends up included in the article.  Yes, we at Reach Advisors do believe that community engagement is hugely important to museums, indeed, imperative to museums if they want to grow and prosper in the future. 

But we do not, by any means, believe that objects are unimportant.  Indeed, our research is indicating that real, authentic objects are more important than ever.  As we move into an increasingly digital age, the real object, whether a painting, a fossil, or a teaspoon, becomes more and more special to visitors, especially younger ones.  I like to spend time visitor-watching at various museums, and it is amazing how often I hear a child ask “is this the real one?” and a parent respond “yes, this is the real one.”  And both are looking at some object intently.

Additionally, in recent research we asked twenty-somethings specifically how they felt about real objects versus virtual representations, and they enthusiastically said that seeing stuff online only made them want to see the real objects in person even more.  Furthermore, their comments revolved around how important authenticity was to them because real authenticity is increasingly hard to find in our crazy world.  Yet they felt that museums were inherently authentic, largely because they have authentic objects that are unique and wonderful. 

So what do we feel at Reach Advisors about community engagement and objects?  They are both incredibly, incredibly important.  Without collections, many museums lose their core purpose – of using art, history, and science to educate and inspire our visitors.  You simply cannot replicate the experience of standing in front of a Vermeer (my favorite artist) any other way.  It is not the same, and museum visitors recognize that.  It is heartbreaking to see collections in dire need of conservation, cleaning, and simple care, and the Heritage Health Index report made me, for one, swallow hard.  I personally hate seeing curators and collections managers getting laid off during these difficult economic times.

Objects are also important tools that can be used to bring community together.  I have personally witnessed this when I was the Executive Director of the Saratoga County Historical Society in Ballston Spa, NY, where we used objects to tell the stories of our community, instigating conversation, and knitting that community closer together. 

Community engagement at the museum may not always rely on objects, but more often than not, objects are imperative to attracting audiences, engaging them deeply, inspiring them, and facilitating the connections we want museums to create not only between visitors and their communities, but also among each other. 

- Susie

What Does $150 Billion Buy You?

Recently, my son insisted on stopping at the JFK Library and Museum's exhibit celebrating the 40th anniversary of landing on the moon (some of you will remember that he has asked to visit this museum before).  The exhibit answered a question I had been pondering ever since he got interested in space:  Can this country ever accomplish something so bold again, or is the cost simply not feasible?

The answer found in the exhibit was that it cost around $150 billion (in today's dollars) for the entire Apollo program.  As I tried to put that in perspective, it struck me that the government has spent $173 billion (and counting) to bail out AIG.  Wow.  Can you imagine what productive purpose could’ve been fueled with that kind of money (which is actually less than 5% of the government’s total spending on the bailout so far)?   

As a result of the space program, most of us benefit from the acceleration of technological advancements such as personal computers, GPS, smoke detectors, cordless tools, etc.  Then there were more intangible but critical advancements such as an unmatched level of civic pride in a troubled era, and the spark for a generation of Americans who drove our country’s ascent to technological domination over the past few decades.  

While museums are unlikely to lead the charge in a similar, inspirational endeavor, some museums may be in unique situations to accomplish bold goals.  Perhaps it’s fostering an unmatched level of civic pride within their community.  Or perhaps it’s providing the spark for a generation of citizens who will grow our country’s depth of knowledge in topics as wide-ranging as technological wizardry, or advancement in the understanding of the natural world around us, or cultural knowledge in an ever-increasingly global world.   Or perhaps it’s having more direct impact on economic recovery through job re-training programs, or through the fostering of economic value created by an increasingly underemployed but educated and creative generation now entering the workforce, or through sparking smart urban (or even suburban or rural) redevelopment in ways that most real estate developers will never be able to do.  

These are all issues we continually ponder, and we welcome any comments or further exploration on what all this might mean for how museums firmly establish their value amidst an economy run amuck.  All done for less than $173 billion dollars.  

- James

Curiosity and Learning Motivations

A few weeks ago, I wrote about curiosity, wondering if we were putting the cart before the horse in our quest to spark creativity without nurturing curiosity first.  Jay Rounds, a professor at the University of Missouri in St. Louis, guided me to his 2004 article in Curator on curiosity, and it, of course, got me thinking.  (Now Jay, I am paraphrasing you some here, so if I goof, don’t hesitate to set me straight!)  This is one of my more mind-bending posts, so bear with me.

 

Jay states that a “curiosity-driven visitor” is not a personality type, but a behavior based on the goal of the museum visit.  We would argue that the “curiosity-driven visitor” is more of a personality type than not (though there is undoubtedly a sliding scale).  That is, those individuals who define themselves as “curious” in our studies exhibit very different behaviors than those that do not.  They visit a wider variety of museums more often, have higher satisfaction levels at the museum, are more philanthropic, and have more omnivorous leisure-time habits.  In short, they are much more likely to be what we call “Museum Advocates.”  So I definitely read his article through that lens.

 

But where I really became intrigued is when he differentiates between extrinsically motivated museum visitation, which he says can be “thought of as a process of acquiring knowledge for which we have a known use” and intrinsically motivated museum visitation, which produces “knowledge for which we have no known use.”  Extrinsic knowledge tends to be “narrow but deep,” while intrinsic knowledge tends to be “wide but shallow.”  We all possess some mix of the two.

 

When we overlay what we know about Museum Advocates and Core Visitors (explored in more detail in our recent book) then we can better see how curiosity can be a personality type.  Because those visitors who meet Jay’s description of “curiosity-driven” visitors who are intrinsically motivated generally fall into our Museum Advocate category, while those who are more extrinsically motivated generally fall into our Core Visitor category. 

 

Why does extrinsic motivation correlate with Core Visitor behaviors?  Because it focuses on “knowledge we need,” according to Jay, and Core Visitors are often moms who bring their children to museums to learn knowledge she thinks they need, or are individuals who are specifically interested in an exhibit or program a museum is offering (such as a guy who is really interested in trains, and goes to every train museum out there, but skips other types of museums). 

 

Both forms of learning are important.  In our professional lives, extrinsic learning is hugely important (we want our doctors to have the deep knowledge they need to help keep us well).  Yet intrinsic knowledge is curiosity-driven, and itself drives creativity.  It sparks cross-pollination that allows us to make leaps between two seemingly disparate subjects and find important connections.  Museums, with their wide variety of collections, are in a position to tap into curiosity-driven, intrinsically-motivated, free-choice learning in ways that schools and other more formal learning environments cannot.  No wonder they are beloved by curious Museum Advocates!

 

But we come back to our data yet again here.  Most of our regular visitors are not intrinsically motivated Museum Advocates.  Some of our visitors are extrinsically motivated in the subject matter of our museum, and that is great.  And moms bringing their children to museums because they think it is good for them to gain knowledge is hardly a bad thing either.  What I wonder about is how excited those moms are themselves – especially when those moms do not identify themselves as curious.  We’ve discussed this dilemma in previous posts, and hope to learn much more on the subject in future research. 

 

Interestingly, Jay posits that curiosity-driven visitors are seeking novel and interesting experiences he calls “wide-but-shallow.”  Yet our research indicates that visitors want deeper experiences.  On the surface, this appears to be contradictory, but I don’t think it is.  Instead, I think curiosity-drive visitors are looking for a wide variety of interesting experiences, but when something does pique their interest, they want to be able to dig deep.  Having that option to investigate further is important, as is the option to skip over things that simply don’t capture their interest.  This behavior would not be contradictory to Jay’s model or the behaviors we see in our research.  And indeed, as Jay explains further, this behavior would be, indeed, typical of curiosity-driven visitors.

 

We’ll be digging further into this issue of curiosity, and what it means for young visitors, moms, and both Museum Advocates and Core Visitors.  As we plan our research, we would love to hear your thoughts.  Click on “comments” below to share.  (If you are reading this from your e-mail subscription to the blog, please go to our blog's website to add a comment.)  Please include the name of your museum as well!

 

Want to read Jay’s excellent article?  It can be found in the October 2004 issue of Curator, volume 47, number 4.

- Susie 

Request for the Field: Successful Marketing to Latinos

We are working with Amy McDonald, the chair of PRAM, on a session proposal for the 2010 AAM Annual Meeting on marketing to Latino audiences.  The session will include an overview by Reach Advisors of the demographics and why the Latino market is quickly becoming critical for the future of many museums.  It will also feature a presentation from a Latino ad agency, including a case study and guidelines on best practices.

We are looking for museums that are successfully marketing to this audience. 

Have you had success reaching this audience?  If so, would you be willing to participate on this panel next May in Los Angeles?  Do you have a case study that you can share?  Can you provide “lessons learned” from your experience?  Or do you know of someone who excels at reaching Latino audiences?  If so, please contact us with your ideas!

Amy can be reached at amy (dot) mcdonald (at) yale (dot) edu, and James can be reached at james (at) reachadvisors (dot) com.

Many thanks in advance for your help.

Musée de l’Orangerie: Wow!

Two weeks ago, James was in Paris to present at the International Council of Museums meeting.  From Paris, he e-mailed me about an amazing experience at a local museum.  He was so blown away, and because we all seek to blow away our visitors, I thought his reaction was worth sharing:

The Musée de l’Orangerie is remarkable.  In part for the contents inside, but more for how the emotions it stirs inside.
 
First, it was about the collection.  Masterful.
 
Second, it was about curating.  Drawing me in with the masters, then introducing me to a modern artist I've never heard of, Didier Paquignon, but I loved.  He really caught the light and emotion that I see in France (even though I think most of his work was done in Spain).
 
Pretty quickly I was impressed with the museum.  But it also helped that a few museum folks were sharing their personal impressions that helped me learn more about art, which I admit to not knowing as much about as I would like. 
 
And then...there was Monet's Les Nympheas.  It's the first time I've ever really felt art.  Felt it was speaking to me.  Not like seeing art, or thinking about art, but felt that every single neuron was firing as soon as I turned the corner into that room.  As if there was a hand that tangibly reached out to welcome me into a different world.  It was respite and retreat in a way I've never experienced in a museum.  The realization of everything I always hope museums could do but have never found to come together so perfectly as I experienced in that one moment.  Music, marble benches, perfect diffused lighting.  And the art...stunning.  Now I understand why Monet's individual water lilies paintings fetch tends of millions of dollars, and why it's so wonderful that museums can keep the best of those for public enjoyment. 
 
Granted, someone pointed out that the room is typically packed with tourists, while we had the space all to ourselves.  And granted, they closed six years to get this right and have the support of a country that understands investment in culture.  But I'm not someone who can sit still very well, yet I could just saunter around that room in a simultaneously blissful and stimulated state and notice endless details while transporting myself to a different state without even trying. 
 
For me, it ranks as a top 10 wow experience, not quite even with, but on the same list as my wedding day, the days my kids were born.  Just plain and simple, a moving experience. 
 
I hope that everyone can get to experience something sort of like that in a museum at some point in their lives.

 
Pretty amazing, isn’t it!  We all want our museums to provide these kinds of “wow” experiences every day.  And many museums do, from mini-wows to these mind-blowing wows. 
 
We would love to see if there is a pattern to “wow” experiences at museums.  Have you ever had one museum, one object, one exhibit blow you away?  What was it?  Why do you think you were affected the way you were?  And was there anything about the physical environment that helped make it such a moving moment? 
 
Share your experiences by clicking on “comments” below to share.  (If you are reading this from your e-mail subscription to the blog, please go to our blog's website to add a comment.)  Please include the name of your museum as well!