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Tag: Dispatches from the Mid-Atlantic (Page 6 of 6)

Dispatches from the Mid-Atlantic: Putting the Fun in Fundraising

by columnist Madeline Karp

Last week, I did something totally new and different: I participated in the Philadelphia Business & Technology Center’s first annual charity jigsaw puzzle contest.

I’ve never been much of a contest person, and frankly, fundraisers make me a little uncomfortable because I always feel a little out of place. But I am into puzzles, so when my friend Claudia asked me if I wanted to participate, I shrugged and thought, “Why not?”

Team Space Duck (which we named after the contest was over, mind you) worked tirelessly over two and a half hours to assemble a 750-piece puzzle to win both a cash prize and a $500 donation to the charity of our choice. As Claudia and I both work for the Please Touch Museum, we agreed to send along our donation to the Please Touch Museum’s Children’s Fund, which helps fund trips for schools and groups unable to afford museum admission.

When all was said and done, the members of Team Space Duck agreed that the puzzle contest was a great way to not only raise awareness for charities and museums, but also a great way to involve young people in networking opportunities and host social events.

Team Space Duck: Tom Lombardi, Claudia Setubal, Madeline Karp, Dennis Lee

 

So of course, I’ve started thinking of other ways we museum folk could put the FUN into fundraiser.

Puzzle Contests, with a Twist
What if museums took the idea of a puzzle contest, but twisted it to fit their institution? Maybe there are puzzles that feature a famous painting hanging on your walls. Maybe the image on the puzzle is of the museum itself. Maybe we get really crazy and do a 3-D puzzle, or use Legos instead of jigsaw puzzle pieces. The possibilities are endless.

In our case, there was a $25 registration fee per person, and given that we were supplied with both the puzzle and unlimited pizza and beer, we felt this was totally reasonable.

Scavenger Hunts
A friend of mine in high school participated in a scavenger hunt where she had to interpret clues like Find the Breakfast of Champions (beer and a cigarette), Find 50 cents on the floor (picture of two people listening to 50-Cent on their iPods whilst lying on the floor), and Stage and film a Kung Fu battle in the lobby of a fancy hotel (bonus points if you involved a stranger).

The Please Touch Museum already has a Hide and Seek of the Week challenge encouraging visitors to find a certain toy on display. It wouldn’t be too hard to create an event around a larger, more interpretive scavenger hunt. Teams pay a registration fee to play, and the team who finishes the hunt first wins a prize.

Dance Marathons
Does your museum rent itself out for weddings, B’nai Mitzvot or Scout Troop overnights? Then why not host a 24-hour Dance Marathon?  Plenty of my college friends have participated in Dance Marathons just for fun. What if museums did it to raise funds? Teams could easily pay a registration fee, and we could open up a hall or gallery to dancers to use for 24 hours, provided they understand the museum’s rules about overnight rentals.

Tactical Capture the Flag
If re-enactors get to play in historical fields, why can’t I? Again, this is a team registration kind of deal, but imagine if history museums or national parks opened their space up for historically themed games of capture the flag. To make this one a little more educational, the game itself could reasonably be preceded by a lecture, or guided tour of the museum with a focus on military tactics.

Modern Art Paint Parties
Paint Parties are huge here in Atlantic City – everyone comes dressed in pure white and they leave covered in paint. It really makes the partiers look like human works of modern art. It’s a little messy, for sure, but what if an art museum rented a space and invited young people to come and party like a Pollock? Artists in residence could be in charge of the people painting, and museum staffers could help stage photo-ops with famous reproductions of modern art. Of course, art photos would be available for purchase, in addition to charging an admission fee.

Fork You! A Historical Dinner
For those of you who know me from graduate school, you may remember this suggestion: Host a dinner in which each course takes you through the historical evolution of the fork. Variation: maybe instead of a utensil, the museum could serve historical variations of one kind of food or meal. You’d have to work hard to keep me away from the History of the Chocolate Chip Cookie tasting lecture. For real.

What do you think? Would having an offbeat event make you want to attend a fundraiser? If you had unlimited resources, what kinds of unusual fundraisers would you put on in your museum?

Dispatches from the Mid-Alantic: And We All Shine On

by columnist Madeline Karp

Sometimes I find it hard to muster up the enthusiasm to go to natural history museums. Don’t get me wrong – I love natural history museums, and couldn’t wait for the annual school field trip to the NY Museum of Natural History as a kid – but sometimes, they just feel a little old hat.

Yes, I like dinosaur bones as much as the next girl, but the idea of seeing them again can be slightly less than thrilling. Which is why I had put off going to the Penn Museum in Philadelphia for upwards of 6 months.

Until.

Back in December, my family tore an article out of the newspaper for me, detailing how the Penn Museum was celebrating its 150th anniversary, and would be hosting curator-led flashlight tours of the mummies exhibit to celebrate.

Mummies? In the dark?? SIGN ME UP.

I recruited my friend Kristen to hold my hand, in case the mummies got extra creepy at night.

We took the tour, sharing a flashlight and giggling nervously at the idea of seeing dried out dead people in a dark room. Despite the fact that the tour was crowded, and it was sometimes hard to hear the guide, we both came out having had a good experience.

– New Perspective
Like I said, sometimes I have a hard time getting enthusiastic about natural history. But having the same content presented a new way was beyond thrilling. With sight limited, my other four senses heightened, forcing me to experience the exhibit in a completely different way.
Bonus: Kristen had actually been to the exhibit in the dark before; as a freshman at Penn, she attended a social mixer in the museum’s mummy hall, complete with DJ, dance floor and anachronistic toga costumes. Suffice it to say, I was more than a little jealous.

– In His Shoes
I’m all about stepping into history. I find first person, immersive experiences to be extremely informative. So when we were left alone to explore, I rounded a corner and my light beam brushed a sarcophagus. I felt my heart flutter with excitement. “This is totally how Howard Carter felt when he found King Tut, you guys!!” I sang. (No, really. I sang it.) I’ve read his diaries. Now I feel like I’ve lived them, if only for a moment.

– Great Date
More than one couple there was on a date. It’s a totally controlled environment, but something about mummies in the dark is still a little scary. If you’re looking for a date that combines the class of a museum with the fun of a haunted house, look no further.

– Curator Approved
Since the museum curators led the tour, we got the real insider’s perspective. Curators have favorite objects, they know quirky historical details, and sometimes even have adventurous stories about how they procured the objects themselves.

I’m actually really excited to return to the Penn Museum to see the mummies again in the daytime. I’m hoping it will be less crowded and am curious to see how the exhibit may feel different in the light. Will I pick up new details, or will the exhibit revert from magical to mundane? Regardless, the Penn has accomplished something big: I’m totally pumped to go back to the natural history museum!

Have you ever taken a flashlight tour of a museum? What did you think of it? What other kinds of oddball tours could museums offer to freshen up permanent exhibits? Share your stories with me in the comments!


Dispatches from the Mid-Atlantic: Jesus Played Yahtzee…And Other Historical Revisions

by columnist Madeline Karp

“Look at this!” my friend Kristen called me over to a case in the Ancient Greek wing of the Penn Museum. The case was right next to the bathrooms, small and probably often overlooked, except by those waiting for their friends to finish washing up.

The University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology (or the Penn Museum for short) focuses on a wide variety of ancient cultures, ranging from China to Iran, the Americas to Greece and Rome. College students take anthro classes in the museum, and kids and families from all over Philadelphia are invited for programs like the 40 Winks with the Sphinx museum overnight, Chinese New Year celebrations, and instructional tribal drum circles.

Kristen and I had decided to go to the museum one cold December night to attend a flashlight tour of the mummies exhibit (more on this next week), and needed to kill time before our tour slot. So we made our way to Ancient Greece.

“What is it?” I asked, circling back to see the case.

“Dice made from bones,” she replied. “Dated centuries before Christ.”


We quietly stood side by side as I took a moment to look at the dice, and then read the label, like a good museum visitor.

“Kristen, do you know what this means?” I said after a minute.

“What?” she asked.

“Jesus played Yahtzee!!”

Thus ensued giggling that lasted for the rest of the museum trip. The very idea of such a serious historical figure doing something recreational was oddly amusing.

A quick Wikipedia romp later that night informed me that Jesus could not, in fact, have played Yahtzee with the Apostles. The game wasn’t invented until 1956. But given that there were dice as early as the sixth century BCE, it’s not completely unrealistic to suggest that maybe Jesus played a dice game or two in his day.

After the giggles receded, the incident actually got me thinking – how important is historical accuracy in situations like this? Can we let loose just a little? (This coming from a history major? Horrors, I know. But hear me out.)

A large number of people who come through history and archaeology museums are not going to remember the fine details of the narrative. No matter how many times I told visitors to the National Archives in Washington DC that the original Bill of Rights actually contains 12 amendments, they left the museum saying that the oversized page has only 10. No matter how many times I insist to my family that the Vikings didn’t have horns on their helmets…Vikings totally had horns on their helmets.

Sometimes tiny historical revisions are just more popular than the facts.

Suffice it to say, sometimes people put two and two together and get twenty-two. It’s not really right, but it’s not exactly wrong either.

So if this kind of revisionist logic rears its head – dice existed when Jesus did, Yahtzee is a game played with dice, therefore Jesus played Yahtzee – does it matter if that understanding is slightly wrong? I came out of my trip to the Penn Museum learning some things I never expected. I had no idea dice were so old. I had no idea Yahtzee was so new.

What started off as a punch line actually got me to look at objects in a new way. When we looked at cosmetic cases from Ancient Egypt, we wondered, “Did Cleopatra have a stylist?” When we saw ancient Roman coins we wondered, “Did Roman centurions hate it when their change jingled?” These thoughts are silly, yes, but are they totally unreasonable?

After the dice joke, long dead figures suddenly became way more human, and I was suddenly doing research on things like the history of eyeliner and coin purses and how people cut their nails before modern clippers were invented.

FYI – The first patent for a nail trimmer in the US dates to 1875, but it details an improvement to made existing clippers. So the implication is that they existed earlier than that.

What I want to know is this – at what point should we accuracy-obsessed history folk just shrug it off? It’s a losing battle to try and force people to remember every little detail about your favorite historical era. The average person probably does not care as much as I do that the General Lafayette was not a morning person. (One time, he slept through an early morning bread riot that was literally outside his Versailles window. True story.)

So if by using the “two and two” revisionist logic visitors do learn something, or get excited about history, or go home and research an object on their own – is it okay to let people assume that Jesus played Yahtzee? Can we have a sense of humor, and let some of the small stuff go? Personally, I think I could, if it meant people had fun in the museum and still understood the basic idea: Jesus and dice were contemporaries.

Could you let small revisions go? Or would you keep fighting for detailed historical accuracy at all costs? Let me know what you think in the comments!

Dispatches from the Mid-Atlantic: Frozen in Time

by columnist Madeline Karp

Welcome back to Dispatches from the Mid-Atlantic, the weekly column where we discuss what’s going on outside of New England!

It is a little known fact that I spend far too much time on time-wasting websites like Jezebel, Buzzfeed and about.com.

Finally (finally!) my Internet addictions serendipitously came together with my education last week, and actually had something to do with museums! The story:

I was reading an article online about how to sneak a hook-up at your parents’ house during the holidays. (Why? Because it was there to read.) While skimming the comments, I came across this gem:

[Name Redacted]: Does anyone really in real life have a magical frozen in time bedroom at their parents house that they no longer live in?

Now, my parents no longer live at my childhood home, so my bedroom is more a combination of my current preferences with the tasteful, yet blasé beach house décor necessary to turn the room into a functional guestroom when I finally move out.

But to answer [Name Redacted]’s question: Yes! I know of a magical bedroom frozen in time! Back in 2010, The Telegraph shared this interest piece on their website: Parisian flat containing 2.1 million Euro painting lay untouched for 70 years.

Imagine! Not just a room, but a whole apartment in Paris completely frozen in time! It’s been 1930 in this space for over 70 years.

Now of course, most people were more excited about the Boldini painting found in the apartment than the apartment itself. And they should be. The work was a lost masterpiece and later sold at auction for 2.1 million (approximately $2.9 million USD). But, really, I think the most exciting detail of this story is that there was an apartment-sized time capsule just sitting in the 9th arrondissemont of Paris.

Many art and history museums work to re-create period rooms with furniture and objects laid out “as they may have been” at that time. But here we have an authentic period room ready-made! Are there similar time capsules in New York? Hong Kong? Sydney?

This is urban archaeology at its very best.

I don’t know what happened to this apartment. Sadly, a Google search yielded little information. My best guess is that the estate probably auctioned off many of the items – like the Boldini painting – and that the proceeds were given to the owner’s heirs. (Seems reasonable, right?)

But regardless of what did happen, I’m torn about what should happen to a space like this. Should such place remain privately owned, or should the heirs have turned in over to the public? And if so, then what? Conservators would probably say we should seal it off, like the Caves of Lascaux, and save it for future generations. Curators may suggest we split up the objects, sending the valuable ones to museums that focus on antique toys, artwork, or textiles from the twentieth century. As an educator, I would love to see the space preserved as is, and opened to the public as an apartment-museum – an apartmuseum!

If you encountered a space like this, what would you do? How would you use it to teach the public about the past? Would you ever consider sealing off your own living space to become a museum seventy years in the future? Share your thoughts in the comments!

To see more photos of the frozen apartment, check out these websites!

 

Dispatches from the Atlantic: “Noon Year’s Eve”

by columnist Madeline Karp

The stage was set. Workers stood at the ready with confetti cannons, the band members waited with baited breath to sound the first notes of Auld Lang Syne. Anxious in their cramped quarters, the crowd bounced on their toes, looking up, waiting for the famed ball to drop at the stroke of twelve.

You would think you were in the middle of Times Square on New Year’s Eve, but you would be wrong. This is not Times Square, or even New York City. This is Hamilton Hall at the center of the Please Touch Museum in Philadelphia. This is Countdown 2 Noon®.

The Please Touch Museum annually invites children and their families to ring in the new year with style…albeit, without the over-tired temper tantrums that can often accompany an unusually late bedtime. Rather than countdown to midnight, the museum counts down to a more commonly seen stroke of twelve for its young audience – noon.

This year’s festivities included the Countdown King, leading his parade of personified numbers 1 through 10. Each number puffed up with pride as his or her name was called, asked the children to identify what color t-shirt he or she was wearing, and told the kids how great it is to be Eight, how fine to be Nine, and “Oh me” how she loved to be Three.

As the clock neared twelve, each number held up a big sign, encouraging kids to help the Countdown King count down to noon, drop the famed PTM New Year’s Eve ball from the center of the domed ceiling and, of course, yell “Happy New Year!” All of this is accompanied by a hailstorm of colorful confetti and shiny streamers, floating through the air as the clock strikes noon.

It’s a fun event. But it’s more than that. It’s an exceedingly teachable moment; one that extends itself to children of all ages and learning abilities. In the spirit of Countdown, let’s count down five ways the event teaches kids.

5. Counting Up
After introducing his gang of jumbled numbers, the Countdown King looks at his friends and scratches his head. Why, these numbers are not in order, he exclaims. How can we count down without first counting up?

The Countdown King’s intro is fantastic because of its accessibility. It requires children to think critically, identify numbers, colors, put ten objects (or, in this case, costumed staffers) in sequence from small to large. Older children joyously scream the answers, younger children watch, aspiring to be cool like the big kids who can name all their numbers in order.

But why count up at all when the event is clearly a count down?

Because counting up is a huge part of a child’s life. Talk to any child, and he is likely to tell you his age within the first two minutes of conversation, along with the ages of his siblings and cousins and friends. Woe betides the grown-up who mistakenly identifies a seven-year-old as six.


4. Counting Down
Now that his numbers are all in a row, the Countdown King commences the main event – counting backwards from ten. Ten! Nine! Eight…

Counting down can matter just as much as counting up. Children count down to birthdays, to Christmas, to summer vacations. But how often do they think of counting down as the reverse of counting up?

Counting down asks kids to re-sequence their numbers, and challenges them to look at a number in a new way. With a countdown we can teach patience, timing, and the concept of growing smaller, instead of always bigger.

3. Change of Pace, Change of Year
Happy New Year! It’s noon on New Year’s Eve! Almost 2013, but not quite.

So, if it’s not actually the New Year, why bother to count down? Most of these kids will be asleep when the real moment happens anyway.

Children crave routine and ritual, and sudden changes can come as a shock. And yet, sudden change is an inevitable part of life. One minute it will be 2012. And then suddenly, it won’t be because a grown-up with a wristwatch said so. To a child this is extremely unfair, and it doesn’t make any sense. By creating an event that more or less rehearses New Year’s Eve, parents and caregivers can prepare their little ones to cope with the coming change and to accept that sometimes things are going to happen, whether you’re ready for it or not.

2. Creative Clean Up
Cannons upon cannons’ worth of confetti has rained down on Hamilton Hall, creating a colorful, but slippery paper carpet. Times Square has a designated clean-up crew, but the Please Touch Museum does not. What to do?

Hand out plastic bags of course! Carefully marketed as the chance to “take home souvenir confetti” museum staff members slyly convince the kids to help in the clean up process. It’s a subtle lesson in working together, but visitors are amazed at how quickly the hall is swept clean. When everyone helps just a little, a huge space can be cleaned up in literally a matter of minutes.

1. Celebration! …Museum Style
Now that the event is done, Hamilton Hall clears out and the exhibits fill up – museum visits pick up where they left off. The Countdown is quickly a thing of the past as children find the water tables, slides and tambourines. Families split up to use the bathrooms, eat lunch, ride the Carousel.

But this is the best thing about the Please Touch Museum’s Countdown 2 Noon. For one, brief shining moment – for ten whole seconds – everyone is together, celebrating the same thing at the same time. Yes, it’s a small thing, celebrating noontime on a Monday. But the Please Touch Museum’s target audience is small children, and so it fits. For a short time, everyone celebrates being together, being in the museum, being in the moment. It’s probably a moment many of the visitors will remember for a long time to come.

What if we went into all museums with this mindset? What if instead of going to an art museum to see famous works, we went to celebrate them? What if we rejoiced in a science museum? Made merry with history? If we could just take ten seconds out of every museum visit to count down to something small, would we create more lasting memories?

It’s not a question I can answer on my own just yet, but ask me again next New Year’s Eve, at noontime.

Until then…if your family is at all like my family – constantly running twenty minutes late wherever we go – don’t fret. The museum hosts a second Countdown 2 Noon at one o’clock.

**All photographs courtesy of the Please Touch Museum. Reprinted with permission.

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