Saturday 17 January 2015

Do Not Touch: signage as part of your new interpretation strategy

DO NOT TOUCH is a phrase that is inscribed on the heart of every museum curator that ever lived. What existential angst we have gone through in recent years as we have been encouraged to increase access to our collections. More on display? More in open storage? More in handling collections? Look! See! Touch! At which point the curator collapses into a chair clutching his or her lapel pocket pens with an attack of the vapours.


Has the phrase been abandoned in museums as one of those quaint sayings of the people of the 20th Century? Or does it have a use in the enlightened 21st Century cultural organisation?
As part of my new innovative approach I have been removing the signs wherever possible to become a museum that invites interaction rather than prevents it. As a result I have sitting on my desk a rather large pile of these notices. My museum consciousness has kicked in and I don't just want to throw them out. Given that the removal of theses signs are part of the physical act of reimagining cultural space, can I reimagine the signs and the phrase?

One needs only look to the surrealists and dadaists for inspiration.

How about going into your museum lift, covering the buttons with hinged perspex box with one of your 'do not touch' signs attached to it. Given the need to touch buttons to get the lift operational, you've have now elevated (elevated - get it?) this form of vertical transport into a museum art work, you have challenged the visitor to consider issues of access versus conservation and challenged the decision making of those in charge of material culture heritage ("what idiot put that there!"). Will they lift the box lid? Or will they use the stairs? Whatever their decision, you will guarantee dwell time has increased and they will never look at lift buttons in the same way again. You have created a new perspective on a utilitarian object and perhaps directly contributed to improving visitors' health by making them take more exercise.

This sort of thinking takes us into the surreal world of Duchamp, Ernst, Dali et al. Yet they were just not imaginative enough to normalise surreal perspectives into every day life. Weird moustaches, lobster telephones and graffito on a urinal is simply half-hearted.

This is clearly the way forward. The use of the obvious signage in surreal and challenging ways to take us way beyond 'This is not a Pipe' mannered Magritte artwork. To put a sign in a lift saying 'This is not a lift' invites the response, 'Oh yes it is!' The only solution is to put another notice at the far end of the lift reading. 'Oh no it isn't!' at which point you have created a pantomime - the lowest of art forms. 'Do not touch' works much better.




What would you think if you were confronted with the following outside of the art gallery?:

'Keep out of direct sunlight' - on sunglasses 

'Do Not Disturb' - on an alarm clock snooze button

'No Parking' - in a car parking space written in very small letters that can only be read once you've parked.

'Keep Off the Grass' - on an astroturf football pitch 

'No Exit' - over the entrance of a crematorium

'Do Not Bend' - in a yoga class instruction video

'This Way Up Only' - on a football

'Stop' - on the green traffic light

'Fragile' - on a sledgehammer

So it is time to rethink museum signage as part of your interpretive strategy, as part of the art collection. When you replace your  Fire Exit signs will you accession them into your collection? Or put them over a single door reserved for staff you've just made redundant?

I'm currently working on the 'ladies and 'gents' toilet signs, but haven't yet come up with anything that won't result in legal action as 'Do not touch' moves the visitor into an area of Catholic guilt best left for the confessional- all alternative suggestions welcome.













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