What is literary and/or artistic time? What is time in literature and the arts? Or what is time for a writer, a painter, a photographer, a director? The first difficulty encountered by those who wonder about time as it is practised and as literature and the arts represent it is that of formulating the question that occupies them: how, in what terms, does the problem of time in literature and the arts arise? Is time, in the literary and artistic context, a concept, a notion, a percept? Is time, for writers and artists, a theme, a motif, a tool, a medium? Perhaps the most relevant and effective method is to consider the answer given by the artists before formulating the question(s) we would like to ask them. In any case, this is the choice made by the researchers who met for the symposium L’art, machine à voyager dans le temps (University of Haute-Alsace, Mulhouse, 22-25 March 2017). Rather than a concept or a notion, it is consequently a singular posture, that of the time traveller, and the creative and lectoral uses that it engenders that are at the heart of the studies gathered here.
Everybody’s Time is a work by Arman installed on the square in front of the Gare Saint Lazare in Paris since 1985. Meeting points, landmarks, this monumental sculpture, in keeping with the architecture, responds to the principle of accumulation dear to the artist in the lineage of the duchampian ready-made. The visual artist Arman, taking up the theme of travel in a metaphorical form, chose to treat the representation of daily life in an allegorical and grandiose way, following the example of the heroic lives of characters from mythology. Apart from the obvious beauty of the elements, Everybody’s Time refers by its form and treatment to the idea of classical statuary.
The Museum of Art and History of Saint-Brieuc (France) proposes to divert images from the Lucien Bailly photographic background (background kept at the museum) in an offbeat way to create digital postcards. A great way to discover cultural heritage.
After a residency at the Musée de l’Elysée and the mudac, the INT studio presents the collections of both museums through kinetic, immersive and participative installations in the Arcades. Thus, before moving in in the fall of 2021, both museums are present on the site and lead us to experiment their collections in a new way.
“LCD (LUMINA, CHROMA, DATA): Enter the color! How to navigate simultaneously through the collections of the Musée de l’Elysée and the Mudac while giving meaning to the search? LCD proposes to go beyond the traditional search by keywords, dates or authors by means of linking the photographic and design works of the two museums through colour.
A selection of around 500 objects from the mudac and the Musée de l’Elysée were analysed by software to determine the value (RGB) of each pixel. The algorithm creates a colour chart specific to each work. It then places them on a grid projected on the wall. Using a controller, the visitor is invited to choose a position in the colour spectrum (X axis) and saturation (Y axis). The two objects closest to the chosen colour are displayed on the main screens.
The sculpture highlights the database query. The chromatic circle suspended in the centre and the mechanics come to life to illustrate the path taken to access the chosen colour. By immersion, the visitor finds himself immersed in the collections of the mudac and the Musée de l’Elysée.
How, from contemporary art to cinema to photography, artists immortalize the passing of time. Article on Slate.fr
Chrono Shredder (2007) by Susanna Hertrich. She has imagined a device, both calendar and clock, which undergoes an impulse every 3 minutes, gradually destroying the present day to display the new one, condemned to the same treatment. The destroyed days pile up at the bottom of the structure, symbolizing the passage of time and the impossibility of going back (the irrecoverable aspect of shredded paper).
Femke Herregraven investigates which material base, geographies, and value systems are carved out by financial technologies and infrastructures. Her work focuses on the effects of abstract value systems on historiography and individual lives. This research is the basis for the conception of new characters, stories, objects, sculptures, sound and mixed-media installations. Her current work focuses on the financialization of the future as a ‘catastrophe’ and uses language, the voice and the respiratory system to examine these monetized speculative catastrophes within our social, biological and technological ecosystems. She taught at Artez Arnhem and the Gerrit Rietveld Academie and is an alumnus of the Rijksakademie van beeldende kunsten in Amsterdam (2017–2018). In 2016, she collaborated with Dutch investigative journalist on the Panama Papers. She is currently part of On-Trade-Off (2018–2021): an artist-run experimental research project on lithium. In 2019, she was nominated for the Prix de Rome. She is currently a Creator Doctus (practice-based PhD) candidate at Sandberg Instituut (2020–2023)
Guangzhou Triennial 6 / Guangdong Museum of Art, Guangzhou, 2019
Stories are universal. We all read, watch and listen to them. We all tell them. Stories are part of what makes us human. In fact, stories are so ubiquitous, we often don’t think about what makes a good story, or question why stories matter in the first place.
Why stories matter to museums
Museums are often thought of as places that collect, care for, display and interpret objects. While valid in many ways, this view omits the human element of museums. An alternative approach is to think of museums as places that collate and share human experiences. This is the view put forward by Salvador Salort-Pons, Director of the Detroit Institute or Art in a recent article. More fundamentally, Salort-Pons describes museums as spaces for empathy and “a bonding medium for our society”. Salort-Pons might as well have been writing about stories. Stories share personal experiences in an authentic and easily accessible form. They feel familiar, yet enable us to step into the shoes of others. They are full of detail, but leave space for us to insert our own thoughts, feelings and memories. We use stories to make sense of the world. While we see ourselves in them, it is through stories that we encounter new perspectives that change how we think and feel. At their core, stories make us care. They connect us with people and places, even stimulating the release of a hormone usually expressed during intense bonding experiences, like childbirth, breastfeeding and sex. This emotional connection is the reason stories are so powerful. As any advertiser knows, stories drive people to take action, whether that’s buying a product, gifting a donation or making a difference in the world. From a marketing perspective, stories can help museums raise funds, encourage visits and trigger sales. For instance, when the Tenement Museum in New York wrote about former First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt in a fundraising mailing it told a story about Roosevelt’s work in the local area. By connecting the teenage Roosevelt’s story with the Museum’s education programmes, the call to action was obvious: donate money and you could inspire a new generation of young Eleanor Roosevelts. Looking beyond the museum itself, stories help organisations drive change in society. The Santa Cruz Museum of Art and History (MAH), once a place for art and history, now a place that uses art and history to build a strong community, puts stories centre stage. The Museum’s mission statement makes this clear: ‘we find, spark, preserve, and trade stories, ideas, and elements of creativity drawn from people across Santa Cruz County’. Stories are how MAH ignite shared experiences and unexpected connections.
How to find a story
Finding potential stories isn’t usually a problem. There are stories are everywhere. Look inside a museum and you’ll find stories about the foundation of the institution, the history of the building, the collection, individual objects and the people who made, used, sold or owned them. Museums are also full of people, who bring their own stories with them, from researchers and other visitors to staff and volunteers. There is never just one story to tell. The myriad options can make finding one single story to focus on feel overwhelming. The sphere in which museum stories live, undiscovered or untold, is vast. Like a marble slab waiting for the sculptor’s chisel, the possibilities are endless. Finding the right stories is less about looking for them and more about thinking through what you need. You need to know who you are as an institution, what matters to your audiences and what you want your stories to achieve. Armed with this knowledge, you can start to make decisions about the sort of stories you want to tell. These six questions can help you make smart choices as you develop stories for exhibitions, programming, fundraising and social media.
I regularly work with museums to improve their use of technology to open up their collections, attract more visitors and build better relationships and the discussion usually turns to the impact of technology on museum content. How can a museum’s online content contribute to the wider aims of the museum and how the online museum content can fit within the broader museum definition. We normally end up asking more questions than we answer. Can a museum ever be solely online? Can online content improve conservation efforts? Is a visit to an online museums ever an acceptable replacement for physical visit? When we get into the detail of the argument surrounding online museums there is always a lot of questions around what ‘really’ constitutes a museum. So to start we need to ask the biggest question of all – “how do you define a museum?” and, as you would expect, the more people you ask the more complex and diverse the answers.
Is an online museum really a museum?
For the Collins dictionary the definition is short and sweet “A museum is a building where a large number of interesting and valuable objects, such as works of art or historical items, are kept, studied, and displayed to the public.” Whereas the UK Museums Association take a slightly more precise view and defines a museum under these criteria “’Museums enable people to explore collections for inspiration, learning and enjoyment. They are institutions that collect, safeguard and make accessible artefacts and specimens, which they hold in trust for society. This definition includes art galleries with collections of works of art, as well as museums with historical collections of objects.” You may think there isn’t much difference between the two definitions but there is one vital difference that, for me, gets to the heart of it. “A museum is a building” the dictionary proclaims but yet there are many institutions of learning, collections of artefacts and repositories of valuable and interesting objects that don’t require a physical space to define them. If we look at both definitions I am sure we can find numerous examples that fit the criteria but don’t demand a physical space. As the UK Museums Association says we are looking for “institutions that collect, safeguard and make accessible” and one thing that a physical building can sometimes limit is accessibility. An Online museum could actually improve access to the collections the museum is caring for, allowing people to find exhibitions that truly speak to them regardless of location and make links between artefacts held by museums and galleries on opposite sides of the world. So let’s put down aside our dictionary definition which requires a physical space and let’s look at what can be achieved if we are open to providing online museum content alongside our physical collections or in addition to the location-based services museums offer.
Behind the scenes! Assembly of the exhibition “The Factory of Tales”
Once upon a time… Each of us knows stories beginning with those four words. From Finland to Greece, from Spain to the Alps, stories are part of our common heritage. It is this universe, at once very familiar and completely fantastical, that MEG explores in its new exhibition. When crossing the threshold, the public finds itself projected into a surprising atmosphere, where stories are lived as a sensory experience.
Hilltop fires, smartphones and cyborgs. More direct access than ever before: besides interactive displays, surprising objects and large-scale video screens, visitors to the Museum of Communication will now also be introduced to the fascinating world of communication by people made of flesh and blood, by our communicators.
A stagecoach, microchip implants or an original getaway car used in the robbery of the century? The new core exhibition examines all forms of communication, which has always connected human beings. But why do we communicate? And who do we communicate with? What is required for us to understand each other? The exhibition explores these fundamental questions in a playful manner whilst calling on its visitors to contribute their expert thoughts. Numerous newly developed points of adventure await you. You can take part in a game of film karaoke and re-enact famous scenes, you can breach your opponent’s firewall in a hacking game or you can have a go at seeing through the data octopus’s game – you can try something different every time you visit the museum. At some point in the 2000 square metres of the exhibition you will surely meet one of our communicators. They will make each visit a personal and individual experience. How? Let us surprise you!
