Something on my mind

For the last week or so we’ve been working on scheduling our first data-gathering adventures in July and August, which are going to be jam-packed with observations and intercepts for the whole team. We’ve also been working on planning for a couple of new programs and projects and how to evaluate them.

We’re a creative bunch, so the ideas keep rolling in and I’ve been thinking quite a bit about grouping, staging, and prioritizing. Meanwhile, the seasonal shift in the sunrise and sunset has been wrecking a bit of havoc on the homefront recently–our cats are now quite convinced that 4:15 am is breakfast time. The [only] positive thing about being awake then is that it is does build a quiet moment into the day when I can focus on something that I might otherwise not have the time to do (or that I would probably put off to another time). My what-on-earth-am-I-doing-up-now project this weeks has been a little mindmapping.

mindmapping

I keep thinking about the question Why do we do it?, and the connected question What makes this fulfilling? For me, reaching goals is part of what makes the work fulfilling, so I thought I’d start with goals I’d like to work on this year. This isn’t meant to represent what I intend to achieve in the year, but is a way to start thinking about directions and planning paths. Although I started with the idea of goals for this year, built into the map are the places I’d like to reach next year, the year after, and in a few cases some year in the future.

mindmappingdet

I think there are more than a couple of 4:30am mindmapping exercises in my future, with more refining and a few more concrete descriptions. Many of the bubbles feel like they need to be unpacked a bit. Sometimes it was hard to figure out where things were connected because it felt like they were connected to everything. Which reminded me of a tweet from Bethany at AAM this year:

I think this ties into a theme that I think has been woven through many of the planning and projecting exercises of the last couple of months, whether it’s applying some of the design thinking strategies, mindmapping, or creating personas. A lot of the focus of our discussions has been on visitor-centered-ness. It was a phrase that I heard over and over again at AAM, and it sounds like what we are trying to do, but since coming back from Seattle I’ve been thinking a lot about what we mean when we talk about visitor-centered practice or visitor-centered design. I heard a lot of examples of how that is conceptualized in panels (as well as informal discussions). How we define it in our team and in our work is going to be an important point to articulate in our planning.

For today, I included my own definition of visitor-centered-ness in my first meeting of the day, talking with the fabulous protection services staff about our collection app.

guardsand artlens

It was like giving a tour with the most engaged group ever, which was awesome. They are among the staff members who spend the most time with visitors (and the art), and they have a ton of experience and knowledge about how visitors experience the galleries, the app, the art, and the organization. I learned a lot from them this morning, and I’m excited to be talking to them again next week, when I plan to pluck their brains for even more information.

Why Do We Do It?

During the last hour of the art museum Interpretation pre-meeting we talked about near horizon future trends for the field. The wall was full of ideas, everything from taking a page from hospitals in thinking about wayfinding to the internet of things. Of the long list of ideas generated by the group, two have stuck with me. The first is one that we’ve been thinking about a lot in recent months:

DTpremeeting

Design thinking, prototyping, experimentation, and user experience. The team is currently working on developing personas for the first set of projects and experiments. Prototyping to come!

The second note that showed up on the wall that really stuck with me was this:

purposepremeeting

Why do we do it? It’s a great question. I love what I do and I believe that what museums do is important, and those two things are the foundation of why I do it. At AAM there were thousands of people engaged in the work of museums, who love what they do and believe it’s important, and I’m sure that those two things are at the heart of why they do what they do.

I believe that what I do is important, but can I prove it?

I’ve been thinking about this for a long time– to the point where in 2010 I went back to graduate school to get some evaluation and stats skills to support searching for the answer. In our department we’re at a moment where we are starting to think about how to implement some strategies for investigating how effective some of the things we’re doing really are, so it was at the front of my mind when this post it went up on the wall at the pre-meeting. It also happens that today Rob Stein posted an essay on Code Words that keys right into this issue (particularly for art museums). It’s a must read.

There are lots of things in his essay that really, really hit the mark. The economics-as-justification-for-arts-funding model has long been of deep concern, for all of the reasons he cites and more. Not least of the issues here is the inherent problem with trying to win someone else’s game. (For the same reason I am also cautious about academic transfer and museums). Yes, the culture sector can have a tremendous, positive economic impact. But that isn’t why we exist.

One of the reasons we exist is because we make life beautiful. We make human hearts sing. We can prompt people to think, deeply, creatively, and complexly, and that kind of thinking is exciting work. Art and culture are the color and texture of life.

This has value. But it is also hard to articulate the impact. The origins of museums lie in the wunderkammer, a Chamber of Wonders. How do you measure wonder? It does not easily translate into quantitative measures. But this doesn’t let us off the hook when it comes to trying to figure out how to do it, quantitatively, qualitatively, creatively, however we can get there.

Plan A and The Year of Living Experimentally

After a very long winter (we just had a snow storm that was almost six months to the day after the first snow of the season), there are birds chirping, daffodils blooming,  and it’s finally starting to seem like spring might actually come. Which can only mean one thing.

Budgets.

Actually, it means two things, because with budgets comes planning, and planning is the exciting part of budgeting, even if you have to make two plans for everything (the with and without funding plans). This year I wanted to try making a small change to the process: flip Plan A and Plan B.

Often, Plan A is With This Many Dollars We’re Going To Do This Awesome Program/Project, and Plan B is With Fewer Dollars We’re Going To Do What Could Have Been An Awesome Program/Project, But Is Now Going To Be Less Awesome By The Power Of X, In Which X Is Correlated To The Size Of The Cut In The Budget. (Or sometimes Plan B is With No Dollars We’re Going To Weep Mightily At The Funeral Of The Awesome Program/Project That Never Had A Chance To Live). So this year we’re going to try starting with what we can do without funding. Here’s what I’m hoping will happen:

We’ll devise Plan As that are Awesome Programs and Projects, and Plan Bs that will expand the awesomeness of the Plan As through the wonders of funding for things like printing and supplies and outside services. And when our final budget is in place we’ll have funding for some (dare I even hope for many?) of the programs/projects, but because we started from unfunded awesomeness, all will be awesome.

Okay, that maybe isn’t exactly what will happen, but having experienced budgeting at a variety of institutions (the thrill of victory! the agony of defeat!), I wondered if a turn of mind would have an impact both on the experience and on the plans that come out of it. Necessity is the mother of invention, right?

Interestingly, something has come out of it. We’ve started thinking about what to do in the next fiscal year and the big things that have bubbled up have been experimenting and evaluating. Which is not to say that neither of these were part of what we were doing before– they definitely were– but rather that one of the big themes for the year will be iterative experimentation– including documenting what we tried, how it worked (or didn’t), and what we learned.

photo 2

Welcome to The Year of Living Experimentally.