During the run of the study, 62 people completed our interviews and 59 completed surveys. I am happy to report, that generally speaking, the exhibition works. That is, most of you (85%!) recognized the main idea. This tells me that our didactics—our labels and wall text—are clearly communicating what we hope you will take away from the exhibition. The 85% includes both survey takers, who were able to select from multiple choices, and interviewees, who had to put the main idea in their own words. Survey participants could only select one choice from the options, but those interviewed were free to articulate the main idea in any way they wanted. What I find interesting is that most people had more than one answer, which makes me think that most visitors are clearly finding the meaning we are presenting, but also coming up with their own meaning—which is great! Our presentation is just one interpretation and should be treated as such. The more visitors that can find their own meaning, the better.

In addition to wondering if you recognize the main idea, we also wanted to know how you were using the exhibition. Our hope is that it serves as a kind of template to your experience. On the most basic level, we hope it gets you thinking about art in new ways.  On a slightly more complication level, we hope that it encourages you to find and explore cross-cultural and cross-collection connections throughout the other galleries.  In this arena, we could do a little better. Only 45% of participants (combined survey and interview) used the exhibition in this way and for most of them it was more “thinking about art in new ways” than “find and explore connections”.  Still, I am encouraged by the enthusiastic responses of some visitors who really picked up on this idea and ran with it. After all, it’s a suggestion not a mandate.

On a large scale, our next steps include identifying ways we can underscore the template function of Connecting Cultures by providing additional opportunities throughout the galleries to make connections (for those that want it). Now we are armed with input from you as we update some of our long-term, collections-based installations.

On a small scale, I would like to spend more time combing through the rest of the data. Other questions asked included what visitors want to know about works on display, how long they spend (or really think they spend) looking at a work of art, and more. Though the study answered some immediate questions about Connecting Cultures, I have a feeling it will spark even more questions once I can really sink my teeth into all the information available.

A big thank you everyone who participated—your time and effort in letting us survey your experiences helps us improve the visit for everyone.

Assumption Number 1:  Placing the survey table near the exit would encourage visitors to stop on their way out.

By the time visitors are heading to the exit, they have mentally checked out of the museum. Many won’t even make eye contact with you (maybe this is a New York thing?), so trying to get their attention as they are headed out the door does not work. I think many visitors see a table at the exit and assume we are trying to sell them something.

Adjustment: We moved the table from the exit area of the lobby to the entry area near the gift shop. This has actually made a big difference, especially to the staff manning the table who now have a line of sight to the admissions desk. The table feels like it is part of the museum experience and not an afterthought.

The survey table is now located closer to the exhibition entrance and along the (well-traveled) path to the restrooms, providing better visibility.

Assumption Number 2: A sign inviting people to participate in the survey will draw people to the table.

Survey table sign inviting participation.

The sign is simply not enough. Some people read it, some people don’t. Some read it and then ask what the table is for. Some people simply assume it is not for them.

Adjustment: While the interview was always by personal invitation, the survey was not. Sure, we might smile and say hello, but we would still sit behind the table waiting for the visitors to come to us. By getting up from the table and actively telling people about the exhibition and inviting them to participate in the survey, there is no question in the visitor’s mind that they are welcome to participate. You simply can’t beat personal interaction.

Assumption Number 3:  Visitors would be more willing to participate in the computer survey than the interview.

This one is perhaps the most surprising to me. I truly thought visitors would be less likely to spend time on an interview-based survey than they would on a computer-based survey. Somehow I thought the interview would be more daunting, but not for our visitors. We reached our target number of completed interviews in two weeks! At my guess, more than half the people asked to participate did. The same enthusiasm is simply not there for the computer-based survey.  Some visitors will approach the survey table simply to tell us what they thought, but when invited to take the survey on the laptop, they decline. Simply put, they’d rather talk than type.

Adjustment: I reorganized the schedule to decrease the number of interview days and increase the number of survey days. Even with almost exclusively doing the survey for several weeks, we still weren’t getting the number of responses, partially due to miss-assumptions 1 and 2. Another adjustment was to increase awareness of the survey by having admissions staff tell people about it when they purchase a ticket and by adding a sign to the entrance of the exhibition. These are our most recent adjustments. My fingers are crossed that they work.

A sign at the entrance to the exhibition lets visitors know we are running a survey and want their input.

Although we are only half way through our visitor study, I have already learned several lessons, the most important of which is that it pays to be flexible. I can’t wait to see what the actual responses teach me.

Installation view of tile panel in Connecting Cultures: A World in Brooklyn.

The tiles in the panel were likely made in Damascus, Syria, an important provincial capital after its conquest by the Ottomans in 1516. Damascene ceramics workshops were influenced by a style of vegetal decoration associated with Iznik, Turkey, a center for ceramic production in the Ottoman Empire, but they adapted color schemes to include cobalt-blue, turquoise, green, and purple. (For an example of Iznik decoration, see this ornament in our Arts of the Islamic World gallery.) Motifs and brushwork on ceramics from Damascus at this time are generally more relaxed than on Iznik examples, where imagery was court-controlled.

We do not know in which building the tiles now at the Brooklyn Museum initially hung. Many buildings from the same period, such as the Darwish Pasha Mosque built by the Ottoman governor, and other museum collections (i.e., The Met and the V&A) include examples of similar tile work.

Darwish Pasha Mosque, Damascus, Syria, 1574, detail of portico showing two tile panels to the west of the entrance (©Michael Greenhalgh, image via Archnet.org)

As Kerith mentioned, the tiles were assembled into a panel upon arrival to the Museum in 1939. Such reconstructions were commonplace during the early 20^th century. Numbers on the tiles and breaks in the decorative scheme suggest a larger original. (Can you spot breaks? It took me awhile at first.) Perhaps damaged tiles were removed and existing ones rearranged, or perhaps the panel includes tiles from various sources. We only know that the tiles came from multiple firing batches due to differences in glazing.

Installation view of “Connecting Places” wall in Connecting Cultures: A World in Brooklyn.

You might assume that all museum objects look now as they did upon creation, but this is often untrue following subsequent interventions. This composite panel is a piece of architecture from Syria that now—approximately 400 years later—functions as a standalone art object on another continent. The reuse of architectural elements has been common throughout Islamic architecture, but they undergo further changes when removed from buildings altogether. Pieces entered European and American collections and museums in the twentieth century, and adjustments occurred for various reasons by those possibly unfamiliar with their original use.

In Connecting Cultures, works are hung in a collage-like formation or “salon hanging.” You get a sense of the panel as an art object conversing with surrounding objects. It appears six feet above the floor on the wall devoted to the theme “Connecting Place”—a completely different placement and environment than in the Darwish Pasha Mosque. In Brooklyn the panel is surrounded by a 17th-century sandstone panel from Mughal India, aTunisian Roman–periodmosaic, and paintings depicting places as diverse as Niagara Falls, Cairo, and Europe.

While these tiles now hang differently than originally intended in a museum far from Damascus, I hope that their inclusion in Connecting Cultures, particularly in relation to the theme of “place,” encourages you to consider the interesting conversation provoked by their proximity to other representations of “place” as well as the significant effects of places—Ottoman Syria, private collection(s), and the Brooklyn Museum—and human agents upon these tiles.

An Islamic tile panel from Damascus, Syria (39.407.1-54) underwent extensive conservation for the installation.  Previously the tiles had been assembled, set into concrete, and put into the wall of the Islamic Galleries.   Losses and cracks were filled with plaster and painted a flat, medium brown.  A common restoration for the early 20^th century, this resulted in a panel that weighed over 800 pounds!

After Treatment, Panel of Tiles, 16th-17th c, Damascus, Syria, Gift of Alan Devereux, 37.409.1-.54

Since this structure was so cumbersome, the tiles were removed from the cement backing.  We used a power saw to cut them apart along the grout lines, carefully avoiding the tiles, and then cleaved them from their backings.

Tiles were separated from the backing by inserting a chisel into air pockets between the tile and the cement after the tiles were cut out of the panel with a power saw (39.407.27)

After all of the old restorations were removed, we examined the tiles. Variations in technical characteristics between tiles indicated they could be from different sources.  Many were broken and a few had smaller fragments of similar tiles inserted into losses.  Several numbering systems were on the backs of the tiles and some were higher than the 48 tiles that existed in our construction, suggesting that the panel may originally have been larger.

These observations made us consider how the tiles should be displayed.   Rearranging, cutting, and inserting fragments of mismatched tiles to make the pattern continuous had been widespread techniques for reconstructing tile panels, but was the current condition an accurate reflection of how the panel would have originally looked?  Would leaving it fragmentary with missing tiles ruin the aesthetic?

In a previous restoration, fragments were inserted into trimmed tiles to create a complete tile. Here, the pattern is the same, but doesn’t quite match (39.407.46, .50)

We decided that all the tiles and fragments would be included in the new display. Tiles would be individually mounted without grout or restorations.  The effect was that they would be separate objects, but each an integral part of a larger collection.  This also allowed for changes that cement and mortar does not—tiles can be removed, displayed and examined separately without having to disturb the entire panel.

Art handlers perform a test hanging of the tiles before installing them in the galleries.

In creating this new mount, we were faced with another challenge:  the panel would be installed over 6 feet above the floor.  The mount would need to be easy and safe for installation, but satisfy concerns about the appearance.  The tiles were mounted in columns on to backing boards, so that eight tiles could be installed at a time.  When the boards were pushed together, they created the entire panel.

The newly conserved Islamic tile panel is in the “Connecting Places” section of Connecting Cultures.  Tell us what you think! Were we successful in presenting a complete object?  Do you miss the cement and grout of a traditional tile panel? Can you see the inserted fragments?  Do the losses detract from the overall appearance?

Look for conservators and other Museum staff serving as “connectors” in the gallery to find out more about the objects in the installation.

In our visitor survey, we have two main objectives: to learn if you recognize and understand the main idea of the exhibition, and to determine how you are using the exhibition.

Visitor studies are nothing new here and we’ve been doing them regularly for several years; they help us understand who visits us and why. Every three years we complete a general visitor survey in order to keep track of trends in our visitorship. We have also been known to do exhibition-specific studies, and this is one such study.

We have two main objectives with this study: to learn if you recognize and understand the main idea of the exhibition, and to determine how you are using the exhibition. Is the main idea clear? Are the WikiLink QR codes noticeable? Are people engaging with the staff person stationed in the exhibition? How is this introduction to the museum collection changing (or not) the visitor experience? We want to know what works and what doesn’t so that we can improve upon our current efforts.

Sarah Sonner, Associate Manager of Interpretive Materials, interviews a visitor for the Connecting Cultures survey.

The study has two parts: a survey administered via laptop and an interview with a Museum representative. The survey and interview will not happen simultaneously, but alternate weekdays and weekends, so one portion is going on every day the Museum is open during the duration of the study. The survey will be available at a desk in the lobby to anyone who wishes to provide feedback on the exhibition. Questions will focus on the first objective: to determine if you recognize and understand the main idea of the exhibition. The interview portion of the study will focus on the second objective: to determine how you are using the exhibition. The interview will consist of two parts: an entrance interview and an exit interview. For the interview portion, a respondent is only eligible to participate if they’ve not yet seen Connecting Cultures so that we might get a clearer “before” and “after” picture of a visitor’s experience.

So if you are approached by a nosy staff person the next time you step through our doors, I encourage you to share your thoughts so that we might satisfy our inquiring minds.

Connecting Cultures is the first museum installation to utilize Optium for every vitrine and glazed surface. Optium is an anti-reflective, anti-static, abrasion-resistant and clear-coated acrylic produced by Tru Vue. Unlike regular Plexiglas glazings which mirror and reflect adjacent surfaces, these Optimum cases appear completely transparent. Optium has various coatings and is not easy to fabricate into 5-sided vitrines, but Allen Blum at Grewe Plastics had developed a fabrication method. The second challenge was that Optium is produced in very small quantities and when Allen contacted Tru Vue about our project, the President of Tru Vue personally called Allen to assure him that they would guarantee enough material to complete all 32 vitrines and glazing for the Pitcher Wall.

A visitor activates a Smartglass case to view the light-sensitive object inside. Optimum is used on other casework (like the Buddha tower in the upper left), so the vitrines are anti-reflective.

Working with Van Wood at the Small Corporation (SmallCorp), we were able to develop a new type of exhibition case for light sensitive materials using Smartglass as an electronic curtain for art. Smartglass is often used in architecture for privacy; it looks white or grey, but when activated it diffuses light or becomes transparent. Many people have also seen it used for unique applications, such as the dressing room doors at Prada in Soho. Smartglass is composed of two sheets of iron-free glass, with a 1/64″ film between that contains microscopic particles. When opaque, these particles are scattered; when electrified, the particles align vertically to allow light to pass through. At the Museum, our Conservation lab tested the Smartglass and found that when opaque it only allowed less than 1% of light diffusion, and less than 1% UV. For light sensitive works on paper and textile, these Smartglass curtains will extend the exhibition period of fragile works and do away with the need for fabric coverings and light locks.

Smartglass curtains will extend the exhibition period of fragile works. Visitors push a button to reveal the object sitting inside the case.

Label troughs are not an area that would seem to be terribly innovative, but if you think about it, most labels are either on walls or on the sides of cases. There is also the variation of having a label installed on an angled deck inside the case. Though it has its advantages, I always felt that having angles above the collar line read too much with the artwork and changed the shape of the casework. My solution was to sink the label rail into a trough below the deck and collar line. This retains the casework’s squareness, doesn’t compete with the shape of the artwork, and perhaps surprisingly is very easy to read especially through reflection-free Optium.

Together these three advances in casework design give Connecting Cultures a state-of-the-art look and feel.

Art books have an advantage over other books since they offer many components that have an intrinsic quality. Hand colored images, good paper quality, innovative typography, overall design, types of binding—these are all elements that make art books a physical experience ranging from touching, holding, reading, smelling and of course understanding the message that the author intends. We are very fortunate to have many wonderful examples of the art book in the Museum Libraries and to have the opportunity to showcase some of these in exhibitions both held inside and outside the Museum walls.

Three great examples of the art book—ranging in dates from 1692 to 2011—are on view in Connecting Cultures and they each offer an opportunity for us to think about what the physical book offers in terms of textual and visual information (credible or not). Let’s start in 1692 with the Atlas nouveau : contenant toutes les parties du monde … (Paris: Chez Hubert Iaillot …,1692).

Atlas nouveau : contenant toutes les parties du monde ou sont exactement remarquès les empires, monarchies, royaumes, estats, republiques & peuples qui sy trouuent á present.

Known as the father of French cartography, Nicolas Sanson (1600-1667), was the patriarch of a famous mapmaking family who dominated map publishing in the seventeenth century. Hubert Jaillot, another most important French cartographer had a partnership with the Sanson family and re-published and re-engraved many of their maps. This rare atlas had been in the collection of the Brooklyn Apprentices’ Library Association founded in 1823 and the first free and circulating library in Brooklyn. The Library was the nucleus of the Brooklyn Museum and this book is an excellent example of the original institutional vision as it documents a need to know about the world and the desire to share information. This book documents a view of the world in 1692 through French eyes and is a powerful example of how information has been created and circulated over time.

Sanson map is used as background imagery on one of the walls in Connecting Cultures.

In addition to being on view in a specially designed low light case, one of the maps has been reproduced on the gallery wall. This is one of many examples of how the Libraries and Archives add to the life of exhibitions here at the Brooklyn Museum!

The easy solution would have been to choose one color for each section, but since the room is 24-feet high, and most of the art is under 4-feet tall, that would have left a lot of empty visual space, even after double-hanging. And so I began to explore the idea of using over-sized murals as backgrounds, and asking myself questions like, “what is something visual that connects all of these works together?” Immediate answers for the place section for example would be to use the weather or landscape. I even thought about things like seismographs or lightning, which are universal experiences. Then, I moved to think about what structures, or frameworks, could hold each group together. I began to think map, and then met with the Museum’s librarian Deirdre Lawrence who showed me our 1680 Sanson Atlas, and its beautiful world map. Taken to greyscale, and then with a white-to-transparent overlay, the Sanson map clearly indicated Place and gave the artwork installed on top of it an instant cohesion; the greyscale then allowed the artworks’ color to pop forward.

One of the first things you'll notice upon entry are the gigantic murals that we've installed on the walls as background images, each one relates to the themes we are highlighting. Here, a world map from the 1680 Sanson Atlas is getting installed in the "Place" section.

I then extended this idea of structure and greyscale to the other sections. One common framework of all people is the skeletal system, and so I worked with a skeleton drawing by Daniel Hungtinton from our American collection. Skeletons and anatomy also being one of the first subjects you draw as an art student. For Things, I met with the planning department, and paged through decades of old blueprints produced for the Museum. A drawing of one of the Museum’s staircases from 1954 by Brown, Lawford & Forbes, became the background for a display of historical and contemporary mirrors.

The Egyptian eye that you see upon entry is just a mere 2.5 inches in real life, but has been digitally captured and rendered in hi-definition. Enlarged to 19' wide x 22' tall, its 1000% enlargement makes the statement, "look."

And last, was the question of what to use as an “entrance” for an installation about new ways of looking at out collection. Our common structure for looking is the eye, and in our Egyptian collection we have a life-size eye made 3,500 years ago, from Obsidian, limestone and blue glass. This 2 1/4″ eye was photographed in HD by Karl Rudisill from Duggal, in 6 parts, re-assembled into an 18GB file, and then enlarged to 19′ wide at 1,000% enlargment, without pixellation. A miracle of photography.

Together, these monumental murals form a dramatic set of indicators that provides unity for all of the places, people and things that artists in our Permanent Collection, have created as records of our amazing world . . . A world in Brooklyn.

Director Arnold Lehman greets visitors at the staff desk in Connecting Cultures. Each staff member at the Museum will act as a "connector" at the desk for two hour shifts once every two months. When you come visit us, you'll meet a different person each time and be able to give us your feedback about the installation and your visit with us.

At this desk, visitors will have the opportunity to meet diverse Museum staff and to interact with them about many different aspects of the Brooklyn Museum. Whether the conversation is as simple as getting directions to the cafe or as complex as discussing favorite works of art in the collection, the point is to provide a human connection between the visitor and the Brooklyn Museum. The conversation goes both ways. Not only can the visitor learn about the Museum, but the staff members, or “connectors,” can learn what it is the public needs to know, and what they are thinking about, so that we can better tailor what we provide to meet those needs.

Arnold reports that he had a great time during his term as a “connector.” Yesterday was a lively day at the Brooklyn Museum, and he talked to visitors from around the country and around the world. I happened to have a group of visitors from another American museum for a tour in the afternoon, and they were impressed to find our Director greeting visitors in the galleries, and they took full advantage of the opportunity to learn more about the institution. They went away astonished at the friendly and open spirit of the Brooklyn Museum.

Yesterday was a trial run for this program. It begins in earnest on Wednesday, May 2, when Brooklyn Museum staff “connectors” will rotate shifts at the desk in Connecting Cultures. You never know who you will meet, so come for a visit. I hope to see you there!