To provoke a sigh

This week, I participated in Territórios Públicos (Public Territories), the national meeting of services of education and mediation organised by 23 Miles, the cultural project of the Municipality of ílhavo. I like the name of this initiative, which makes me think of words like “community” and “communication” – communication that creates community – the connection created by a shared task (to remember the speech “What is to love a country” by Tolentino Mendon?a).

The beginning of the meeting was marked by the participation of álvaro Laborinho Lúcio, by the worlds he brings along and generously shares in his public interventions, with a mixture of charming seriousness and captivating lightness. I could highlight several points, but, considering the theme of this post, what seems to me most relevant is to refer to the way he encouraged us to follow the impulse of our constant ignorance, which takes us from the stereotypes, to the interrogation, the questioning, the doubt…

That same afternoon, we had the opportunity to listen to Nuno Faria (Artistic Director) and Marta Bernardes (Educational Projects Manager) from the City Museum of Porto. They presented an idea of a city museum that intrigues, an intention to question, to go deeper, to look at the museum-institution as an institution also in crisis, with the need to look at itself, to question and to change.

With Laborinho Lúcio's words about our constant ignorance still echoing in my head, I felt that this project was presented based on too many certainties, too many convictions about what people may or may not feel, may or may not want, may or may not need. I also think that the presentation did not go beyond theory, there was no intention or ability to speak in a more concrete way. In fact, I felt there was some arrogance involved, which became stronger (and, for me, even uncomfortable) when a young colleague asked how people get to the museum. It seemed to me to be a question in the literal sense (how do they find out, how do they get information, how do they get there), but it was also seen in a metaphorical sense: how do people reach the content, how do they relate to it.

Marta Bernardes spoke of people's lack of artistic education; the failures of the school in this regard; the way people demand to understand and demand to understand in the way they want. She made a comparison with children who enter elementary school to learn to read and write and for whom what at first appears to be incomprehensible scribbling begins, with practice, to take on meaning. She compared it to her own ignorance, and consequent lack of understanding, of a rugby game, until a friend with more knowledge explained some basic rules to her. To return to the lack of artistic education.

I visited the former Romantic Museum (now called the Extension of Romanticism) a few days ago. I must say that I had only visited it once or twice in the past, both before the 2017 refurbishment. Those visits did not leave any special memories. I found the name (the main attraction on the first visit – the first also to the city of Porto) more interesting than the content itself. I must say that I was very uncomfortable with the violence of the criticisms made on social media regarding the new project. Most of them, at the time, were based on photographs and convictions, they didn't reveal any curiosity, they were mostly angry. I wondered what could be the reasons for this anger and also the criteria of professionals in the sector when certain museums or collections disappear (I thought specifically about the continued silence in relation to what is happening at the Museum of Transport and Communications in the same city).

Feeling no special connection to the former Romantic Museum, without anger or hurt and with some curiosity, I wished to get to know the new project; which did not communicate with me: an introductory text without relevant information, based on various assumptions regarding the visitors' prior knowledge; and then several objects and works of art on display, without any context or information, except a leaflet given at the entrance through which visitors can make a simple correspondence between what they see on display and the layout presented in the leaflet. The City Museum’s website prepares the most experienced visitor for this kind of disorientating and despairing experience: confusing, not at all intuitive, an aesthetic exercise at the expense of functionality, which results in an inaccessible website.

How was the evaluation of the former Romantic Museum carried out? What did museum professionals and visitors think of it? How was this decision for radical change made? For what purpose? What need was identified? What are this project’s references in what concerns education and mediation? These are some of the questions I hope to see clarified in the near future.

Before visiting the Extension of Romanticism, I visited the Municipal Gallery, where the exhibition “The New Babylonians” is on display. About 10 minutes later I was on my way out. Once again, I was confronted with an introductory text that said nothing to me; better texts, but very extensive, on the walls (which I was able to take with me and read, sitting down calmly, in a brochure provided by the gallery) and a constant, deeply tiring, crossover of sounds from different videos.

At times like these, I always remember Canadian museologist Gail Lord who told us, when she visited Portugal a few years ago, that the good thing about museums is that you don't have to take an exam to get in and another one to get out… But it seems that, in certain museums, this is exactly what is expected of us. We are guilty of our ignorance, when those responsible for them do not clearly know if they want to communicate, with whom and why. I visit different types of museum (art, history, science, archaeology) and I feel that some of their curators or commissioners expect me to have their knowledge or perhaps to consult the bibliography in advance in order to have a meaningful, relevant visit. Curators know how to navigate them with their eyes closed, but they throw the visitor inside without any guidance or map. This is not a museum (in the current definition, and perhaps in the future as well). It's not easy to communicate with people who know nothing or very little (which is the case of most of us, people who visit museums). But there are professionals capable of recognising their “constant ignorance” and with a genuine and honest interest in and ability to communicate: for the pleasure of sharing, of communion, of communication, of community.

I would like to end up referring to a person I met yesterday at Festival Materiais Diversos, and who I stole from the title for this post. Architect and visual artist Filipa Morgado is developing, with the support of the Directorate-General for the Arts, the project CAU – Cortém Aldeia Urbana, in her village of Cortém, near Caldas da Rainha. She returned to Portugal because of the pandemic, to spend more time with her father. She wanted to do something in her village, for and with the residents. A village built on both sides of a road, without a central square. She spoke to people, who expressed their satisfaction with what they have, with their way of life. She involves them in the project by knocking on the door, leaving information in the mailbox, calling them on the phone. What does Filipa Morgado, also a resident of the village, wish for? That people may be surprised. “My aim is to provoke a sigh…”. That's what stayed with me from yesterday's conversation.

Foto: Luísa Baeta | Materiais Diversos

Originally published on Musing on Culture.