From what I’ve heard, it sounds as if there are quite a few of us who’ve started writing case studies, but haven’t quite finished – or haven’t gotten around to hitting “publish.” I started a post some time ago about an exhibition called Rotten Truth that I worked on with Kathy McLean, Beth Redmond-Jones, and colleagues from the Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition Service, about 15 years ago. (The exhibition was never actually built – which is part of the story.) One thing that’s held me up is that this all happened so long ago that records aren’t that easy to pull together, few were in digital format back then, and documents will need scanning. It was such a collaborative project, shouldn’t we all  consult on the case study? And then there were some sensitive issues – what Gretchen referred to recently as “exhibition frictions.” Should those be mentioned? What are the “frictions” or tensions that would be meaningful to recount? I gather others are stymied by those “intellectual property” issues Paul was commenting on earlier this week. In the interest of sharing experiences that may save some reinventing-of-the-wheel – one of the reasons we created this site – I think I ought to take on those challenges and finish this case study. I hope others will overcome hesitations and do the same. The stories, however imperfect they may seem to us, are part of our collective memory, the foundation of the “wisdom of practice” that informs our field.

In 1998, Canadian designer Bruce Mau wrote “An Incomplete Manifesto for Growth“—43 ideas that exemplify his beliefs, motivations, and strategies, and describe how his BMD studio operates. While I appreciate all 43 of these ideas, it is #42 that sticks with me as I think about our wonderful new project, ExhibitFiles:

“42. REMEMBER. Growth is only possible as a product of history. Without memory, innovation is merely novelty. History gives growth a direction. But a memory is never perfect. Every memory is a degraded or composite image of a previous moment or event. That’s what makes us aware of its quality as a past and not a present. It means that every memory is new, a partial construct different from its source, and as such, a potential for growth itself.”

I envision ExhibitFiles as a collective memory-space for our field. In ExhibitFiles, we will be able to record our memories of exhibits past, our successes and failures, our inspirations and struggles. And in the remembering, we will grow the field. In my recent article in The Exhibitionist, “We Still Need Criticism,” I suggest that exhibition criticism needs to be more than simple opinion. I make a plea for criticism in context, for building upon past practice, referencing other similar media, comparing similarities and differences. In a similar vein, as Bruce Mau says, “Without memory, innovation is merely novelty.”

But in order to “remember,” we need collective memories. We need a place to record what has been done so that we may all experience it, even as “a partial construct different from its source.” ExhibitFiles will contain our partial constructs of the many exhibitions that have gone before, that we created in the past, that visitors have experienced over time.

ExhibitFiles won’t be a memory-space only. If it is truly self sustaining and nurturing, it will also be a current space, where we can reflect on our practices, get advice and consent from our colleagues, and perhaps foster future alliances.

“We Still Need Criticism” PDF (263KB), reprinted with permission from The Exhibitionist, Volume 25, Number 1, a journal published by the National Association for Museum Exhibition (NAME).