Polonius’s Advice to Museums

Shakespeare’s character Polonius has become renowned for his trite advice.  We all are familiar with his stock phrases and his simplistic recommendations.  And yet, I have found that the most commonplace sayings often are the most important to incorporate in the day-to-day management of a museum.  The following list is the top five “Poloniusisms” that I employed in my previous position as CEO of the National Museum of Industrial History (NMIH).  My role at NMIH was to build an 18,000 square foot museum from the ground up with 8 million dollars in 16 months.

Don't throw away the baby with the bathwater.

New administrators and managers often have to deal with consultants, systems and policies that they inherit.  One of the most difficult jobs we have is to determine what to keep, what to throw away and…how to make the decisions in a sensitive way. Therefore, the first step in any new project is to evaluate what's working and what isn’t. Take the time to develop clear parameters and expectations before you move forward and build consensus before you promote any institutional changes.

As the new CEO of NMIH, I inherited an exhibit design and team.  Initial documents and discussions indicated that this project was moving forward in a positive way.  The museum had an exhibit blue print, a descriptive exhibit walk through, and a list of interpretive panels and artifacts.  However, the board had directed me to ensure that the exhibit employed the latest theory and technologies. 

My first step was to evaluate the materials.  I realized that the traffic flow established by the blueprints had the visitors entering and exiting along the same path; there was an excessive number of text-heavy exhibit panels; the branding was more befitting to a Victorian era exhibit rather than an industrial themed display; and there were not enough interactive stations.  In expressing these concerns to the design team I discovered that they were hired to implement the existing plan and not to alter it in any way.  They had neither the skill set nor the budget to make changes.  In addition, they were from out of the region—necessitating most of our communication to be via conference calls.  With only a year until opening, I realized that if I was going to make a major change, it had to be instantly and it had to have Board support.  I established a revised budget, a new time table and a list of potential regional contractors.  I also delineated trouble spots with the existing exhibit design and outlined the changes that needed to be made. After making my case to the Board, we mutually determined that it was best to move forward with a new team.

I made some calls and brought a regional team together.  I knew there was no time to start from scratch.  Using the existing exhibit design as a base, this new team tackled the project as a design/build exhibit.  We held two months of intense brainstorming sessions.  We solved the traffic flow problems by creating a ramp and platform. We refined the exhibit design plan creating a new hierarchy of signs and a more modern graphic brand.  We developed interactive stations that enhanced the original static design.  The exhibit content was developed from January through March.  Graphics were being designed as the exhibit furniture was being built. By keeping the framework of the exhibit, but replacing the players with a regional team, we were able to maximize their efforts and meet our deadline successfully.

Communication is key.

Although you may be able to keep all the tasks and deadlines of a project in your head…don’t.  Make it a team effort.  Use project management software, assign tasks and deadlines.   Make sure to have regular check-ins to highlight successes and trouble spots.

About a quarter of the way through the museum planning and construction process, one of my board members had the audacity to ask me who my second in command would be if I got hit by a bus tomorrow.  After I got over my shock, I realized that while his approach was confronting, his concern was well-founded.  Though I had entrusted individual staff members with specific tasks, and was dutifully monitoring all aspects of the project, I realized that only I was aware of the whole project scope.  I also realized that there was a second downside to this predicament--my staff members were in silos.  They did not feel connected to the end goal, nor were they aware of how the work they were doing might affect the projects of their colleagues.  This caused unanticipated delays and, at times, anger and impatience amongst the staff.

The solution was to employ project management software coupled with weekly check-ins.  There are several free project management software programs or more robust programs with nominal fees.  We used Smartsheet. Everyone was given a log-in where they could update their tasks.  The whole staff could view the project on line.  Our weekly meetings were used to brainstorm about future needs, address trouble spots, redistribute tasks as needed, and celebrate benchmarks. 

What were the results of this management change? Even the dullest task, was imbued with importance because it was tied to the greater whole.  The silos were broken down and replaced with team support and feedback.  The staff began to take ownership and pride in our goal.  Once the museum opened, our project management software allowed us to look back at the project and evaluate our successes and failures more efficiently.

Expect the best. Plan for the worst.

Every project, exhibit or program has multiple moving parts.  Even if something should go wrong with one aspect, typically there is an easy work around.  It is crucial to pinpoint the problems that could derail the project, itemize the major hurdles, and provide a working plan with checks and balances to ensure the project stays on target.

Although the NMIH museum project had many elements, I quickly realized that our tipping point revolved around the 21 Smithsonian artifacts which would be prominently displayed in the museum galleries.  The Smithsonian has strict rules regarding these loaned items and how they are transported, conserved, installed, and displayed.  If our plans for any one of these areas of consideration failed to satisfy the Smithsonian representatives, the whole project would come to a standstill and we would be unable to meet our target opening date.

It was necessary to breakdown this task into multiple phases with established deadlines to keep us on track.  Phase one was to secure the loan.  This seemed easy enough as we had the artifacts on loan already in our storage facility, but it proved complex.  The storage facility was an approved space, but the new museum was not.  We had to establish that the new facility met the Smithsonian’s security, safety, temperature and humidity guidelines. If the facility failed to pass inspections, the artifacts would not be allowed to be displayed. The hurdle here was to compile the necessary information while the museum was being constructed.  For instance the Smithsonian needed the response time for emergency service (police, fire, etc), but without a functioning phone and alarm system in place we could not give them a true test.  Our strong relationships with our building contractors and the city leaders saved the day—allowing us to set up a mock emergency.

The second phase was to conduct a conservation survey and treat the artifacts as needed before they were moved into place. Securing a firm to do the conservation would have resulted in an estimate of hundreds of thousands of dollars.   This hurdle would have devastated our budget. In the end, we were able to save funds by training a team of staff and volunteers to work under the professional conservator.

The third phase involved submitting our exhibit designs for approval.  We needed to establish that all the railings and barriers met with the Smithsonian standards and that the text panels and graphics for the artifacts were approved.  Initially this seemed simple, but because the artifacts were so large and complex to move, we had to provide detailed drawings indicating the relationship of the artifacts to railing, wall, and even electrical outlets. Obtaining these measurements was made more difficult because many of the artifacts were stored in crates. Our exhibit designers rose to the challenge and with the help of the Smithsonian Curator, they were able to place footprints of the artifacts on the floor of the museum where they were to be placed.

For the fourth phase, we had to hire professional Smithsonian approved riggers to move the large machines from the storage facility to the museum.  The catch here was coordinating the move with the construction of the building and of the exhibits.  These artifacts had to go in after the building construction but before the exhibit construction.  The artifacts had to be moved on flatbeds, and thus weather was a determining factor. A week of rain or snow could throw the construction schedule off significantly. The riggers had to be flexible, switching from moving to assembling if the day was inclement.

Finally, because there would be exhibit carpentry, painting and electrical work happening once the artifacts were in the building, we had to find a way to protect them in place.  The majority of the oversized artifacts were moved in in December of 2015 and boxed up like presents.  However, we used this to our advantage by hosting an “artifact reveal” event for the public when the crates were opened.

Turn your stumbling blocks into stepping stones.

There are moments in every project where you hit a stumbling block and you can see no way around it.  My approach to these moments is to think outside the box.  How can I use this problem to my advantage? Is there an opportunity here on which I can maximize? 

These were the very thoughts that ran through my head when the overall costs for conserving, transporting and installing the Smithsonian artifacts quadrupled.  How could I ever find the funding I needed in the short time we had?  We were truly at a standstill.  I needed to find a pathway forward.  So, I thought, what if we used the excitement of moving our artifacts into the building as an opportunity to fundraise.  From this central idea, I designed an Adopt-an-Artifact program. This program not only raised over $50,000 for the museum in its first year, but it also invested the community in the launch of the Museum, and expanded our knowledge of the collections. The adopters "bought" artifacts that resonated with their own personal stories. They not only shared those powerful stories with the Museum, they shared it with friends, family and on social media, building support for the Museum within their own circles of influence.

Don’t be afraid to ask for help.

Advisers come in all shapes and sizes.  They are professionally paid consultants and contractors, but they are also your colleagues, and your community leaders.  You may think you will be seen as weak for asking advice or that you are saving money by doing everything in-house, but sometimes it’s better to bring in experts.  They can do it better, faster and sometimes safer. They often have a distance from the problem that will allow them to provide new viewpoints and effective solutions that you might not have thought of.

I like to believe that I can do everything on my own.   I quickly realized that this museum would never open if I did not seek support from outside advisers.  I was lucky because the position had come with a mentor, Dr. Brent Glass, Director Emeritus of the National Museum of American History.  We spoke monthly to maneuver though the delicate politics and strategic planning necessary for the project to move successfully forward.  In particular he helped me navigate the administrative aspects of our Smithsonian artifact loan, helped to bring the new exhibit design team together, and helped strengthen my connections with the board. 

The more engaged I became in the project, the more I realized that I had to be able to get outside opinions from museum professionals who could provide an impartial perspective.  I reached out to industrial history and museum design experts to review the exhibit interpretive plan and the exhibit design.  Their comments helped me to reign in the interactives which had taken over the new exhibit plan. They also reminded me to be alert to the balance of voices (worker, owner, manager, entrepreneur, male, female, as well as ethnic diversity).  In addition I regularly spoke to ALHFAM colleagues for advice on everything from best practices for running machinery in a public setting to how to structure an effective volunteer program.

It was crucial to develop a team of community leaders who might help promote the Museum’s progress in different circles.  I developed a relationship with a select group of political, cultural, for profit and not for profit leaders who I met with monthly for advice and support.  These relationships helped me navigate shared parking issues, integrated museum software solutions, joint marketing opportunities, and funding resources.

“This above all: to thine own self be true”

Polonius ends his monologue saying, “This above all: to thine own self be true.”  This is my final bit of advice to non-profit administrators everywhere.  I actually keep a plaque on my desk with this saying on it.  It is my mantra when things go wrong. It is the sound bite in my head when I grapple with a problem, and it is the standard by which I evaluate a project at its completion.