We’ve all been there. You are about to go to lunch with the phone rings ominously. Maybe you tried to just make a quick dash through the gallery, or even worse, you are stationed there and not allowed to leave. ‘Excuse me, but I have a visitor here who says they are the distant relative of one of the artists/inventors/designers/owners/donors/makers of an obscure object on display.’ You cringe to yourself, knowing there is no way out but to head down to the gallery and into the firing line of what is sure to be at least an hour long conversation. Oh why can’t they just call in advance? Couldn’t they send an email?
What do you mean that object I donated in 1975 isn't in pride of place?! |
When you arrive downstairs, your worst fears are confirmed.
They are not here to ask you a quick question; they would like you to tell them
everything there is to know about this object and its relationship to their
family please. What-are you not currently an expert on this one item in your
collection of thousands? What is the point of museum employees if they don’t
have an encyclopedic knowledge of all things related to your distant relative?
But it doesn’t matter, because soon they have launched into their own
soliloquy- explaining about their family/company history and its relevance to
the object. You nod along, all the while thinking to yourself, what is it you
want from me? Am I meant to be writing this down? Is this oral history? Are you
expecting this to end up in a file somewhere? Do you think I have a tape recorder?
The problem is essentially this- when you work for a museum;
you become an embodiment of that institution for the public. I really doubt my
crazy visitor could care less about telling me their life’s story if they met
me in a pub. But here in this hallowed space, the relationship transforms. As a
representative of the museum, I am the arbiter of everything important that
happened in history and more importantly, of remembrance. This (probably elderly) visitor
wants to know their family history (and in turn theirs) matters to someone
whose job it is to literally look after the past. Your opinion on this or that
thing they have brought in with them is somehow the final word on what is or
isn’t significant. And woe betides you if you aren’t playing your part well
enough.
You mean you don't care about my great-great-great grandfather's canning company?! |
Museums are, at the end of the day, public spaces where the
public can feel free to come and look around. Please don’t get me wrong, in
museums we love the public- we really do! But how can you deal with a crazy
visitor? Everyone who works in museums has their own story. Some people are
enthusiastic, angry, sad or demanding. Personally I always try and remember
that this over the top visitor isn’t really looking for me to give them all the
right answers, I’m not even a person to them. Just a walking talking part of
the gallery with a staff badge or t-shirt.
So what’s your crazy museum visitor story? And more important, do you have a trick for walking away alive? Share with the #problemvisitor and we’ll be posting the best ones on the blog!
Just to get you rolling:
‘My grandfather used to work at such and such a company and
in 1960 you had a display about them, where is it now?’
‘My distant relative
donated an object in 1920, where is it now?’
‘Can I see a rare archival
document which mentions a distant member of my family?’
‘I have something that
looks just like that at home, can I bring it in? Would you like to buy it?’
‘My
father has a book bound in human skin, do you think it’s real?’
And just a friendly public service announcement to round
this rant off:
I answered a call from a local resident describing an object that we had in the museum, it looked very similar to something he found whilst fishing and could he bring it in to show us (apparently he had been using it to prop a door open). What he descibed was an anti personell shell. Trying to keep my voice level and calm, I asked him to put it into a bucket of water and to invite the local police round to see it. Definately not to bring it in, our museum does not accept old, possibly live shells. #problemvisitor
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