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Cultural Change

The Value of the Little Things…

By Ngaire Blankenberg

Attention to detail“Why are we always the only ones worried about the pens and paper”? This morning, my colleague and I were discussing our often obsessive focus on the detail of a meeting. We griped a little bit about how, in a team, we (the Lord consultants) tend to be the only ones ever worried about these kinds of things. Does our preoccupation with making sure there are markers that work, flip chart paper, a proper, timed agenda, a clock, drinks, and sticky notes position us subconsciously as the ‘drones’ in a process – leaving the more glamorous ‘thinking’ work to other consultants or partners such as the architects, exhibition designers, engineers, and programmers?

No! We decided. It does not! Or at least it should not. And what’s more–it’s time for us to assert the Value of the Little Things- for these are at the heart of effective consulting.

Gail Lord, co-president of Lord Cultural Resources is the best consultant I’ve ever seen (and I’m not pandering here- I mean it!). She has an uncanny ability to grasp a challenge faced by a client, unpack it, hone in on the critical stress factors, find parallels internationally to others who have encountered and met a similar challenge, identify innovative, tailored and do-able solutions and communicate it all back in ways that the client will relate to. She is a Big Thinker often called on to address mayors and city planners, scholars, conferences and other forums about the State of Culture in the World– but she is also a Small Thinker, a detail Thinker. Despite being the president of an international company, she still worries about the temperature in the room, and the pens- not because she’s a woman (although I’m sure our socialization as women probably has something to do with it), but because through over 30 years of experience, she knows how something as seemingly small as a bad seating plan can mess up an entire process.

I know in the earlier years of my consulting career, I didn’t spend much time thinking about these things. With the arrogance of youth and education, I thought that the responsibility for the stationary and the room set up should be given to those further down the worker chain. I believed I had more important things to worry about. I soon learned – when a couple of key meetings fell apart because no one had paper- that ignoring these things was a big mistake. Without understanding the people in the room and what they need to feel comfortable, trusting, and communicative- no big ideas or super solutions would be born, or would stick. The little things are what make the big things possible.

There are parallels here with the feminist movement and its attempts to have the world recognize the value of domestic work, and ‘relationship’ work and all the other female dominated work- as equal to the ‘male’ work which tends to dominate the value chain. We now recognize how a 21st century creative economy is powered by soft skills- emotional and cultural intelligence, communication, interpersonal skills, team building, strategic thinking and so on. Like ‘women’s work’, soft skills are about a person’s ability to interact effectively with others. Facilitating effective interaction is about providing the right tools (pens and papers, flipcharts), the right environment (a comfortable, spacious room), and the right ‘rules’ and parameters for what is expected (meetings that start and finish according to schedule, an agenda that tells people why they are there and what is expected of them).

For consultants like us, soft skills are our core skills, and the little things- the details that show we pay attention to how real people work and think and collaborate- are not an irrelevant detail, they are what makes us good.

The Beaten Church

By Ngaire Blankenberg

During a magical late night walk a few weeks ago in Barcelona- amidst the Roman ruins, the weird and wonderful Gaudi buildings, the secret lovers, the street vendors selling beer to the underage teenagers- I found myself confronted by a church in an almost hidden square that made me catch my breath.

The walls of the Sant Felip Neri church (built in 1752) bear the marks of a cruel attack during the Spanish Civil War.  In the aftermath, it wasn’t repaired like other buildings around it. Rather it was left as it was- a memorial to the 20 children seeking shelter inside the church who were killed during the conflict.

Sant Felip Neri church, BarcelonaI was unprepared by how much I was affected by the scarred and battered walls of the church- bearing the evidence of a war that happened over 70 years ago. I read the graffiti (‘always remember the victims of fascist regimes’) and the commemorative plaque. As I touched the deep grooves and holes, I felt sick. I felt the violence – I did not imagine it.  It was incredibly powerful.

I was reminded of how rare it is to see such stark public evidence of historical violence. In public, violence from the past is recalled most commonly through history books, films, TV, documentaries and oral histories.  Museums preserve bits of material evidence but no matter how powerful, they are mostly out of context- behind glass with mediating text or audio. 

In images of more recent wars we see ravaged cities and bleeding people and blown up buildings, as ‘news’. Then, when the war is over – either the city is cleaned up (in richer countries) or it gets worse (in poorer countries). Walking through rubble you can rarely tell what has been destroyed through violence or through neglect- the stark evidence of violence disappears. Human beings may bear the evidence of violence on their bodies, and communities may remember through graveyards and memorials but they repair the world around them. Life does go on.

  Sant Felip Neri church, Barcelona

This little church with its battered walls quietly marking its place in a peaceful square showed a way to help people understand the violence of war. I think we are saturated by the pervasive images of violence in the media- it’s sometimes hard to distinguish between what is real and what is fiction- we become removed.   But the evidence of violence on the facades of buildings, on landscapes- is somehow irrefutable.  It was an experience I am not likely to forget.

Sant Felip Neri church, Barcelona

The Museum as Stage

by Chris Lorway

“Museums are a constant work in progress and are constantly changing and transforming. That is the definition of contemporary arts today…Contemporary art is performance, projection — we need to provide spaces for events, live arts, time-based arts, as well as small events such as lectures, symposiums and films.”

Chris Dercon, Director, Tate Modern

In today’s museum world, we are seeing increasing examples of institutions incorporating live performance into the visitor experience. From performance art in contemporary art museums to re-enactments on a small or large scale at historic sites, the lively arts are now becoming integrated into an overall institutional program strategy. While some institutions are building or enhancing designated spaces for music, dance and theatre others are using performance to animate foyers, exhibitions and gallery spaces.

The two examples below illustrate how dance companies in England and Germany were given raw architecture space in two of the world’s leading museums to make new work.

In March 2009, acclaimed German choreographer Sasha Waltz was invited to create a “choreographic exhibition” in David Chipperfield’s renovated Neue Museum in advance of it opening. The empty galleries, staircases and hallways gave the dancers and musicians who participated a chance to make their mark on the space though allegorical vignettes on human nature. In addition, the company created an interactive website that documented the work.

The video excerpt below illustrates the confluence of movement and space.

This was the second time the company was had been invited to choreograph a new opening for a museum in Berlin. In 2000 – one year before its official opening – they were invited to make a new piece in Daniel Libeskind’s new Jewish Museum.

In the summer of 2010, the Michael Clark Company was in residency at the Tate Modern in London. The company set up a rehearsal area in the immense Turbine Hall where they experimented and practiced with core company members and a group of 75 non-dancers. Visitors to the Tate were able to observe the creation process from the balconies and terraces overlooking the hall. At the end of the residency, there were a number of public showings of ideas developed to date and the following year (June 2011) a new site-specific work entitled th was premiered in the space.

As the quote above from Chris Dercon suggests, this trend is likely to continue as museums explore innovative ways to get more visitors through their doors as the competition for consumer leisure time increases. We at Lord think it is also an exciting opportunity to explore ways in which a variety of artists can animate these community spaces.

The examples presented are just two of many such examples. We would love to hear from you about other successful illustrations of partnerships between museums and performing artists in their communities.

It’s all Fun and Games Until Nothing Happens…

By Ngaire Blankenberg

There is nothing more frustrating or potentially insulting – than a faulty interactive…
 
A client and I recently visited a major ‘audio-visual monument’ that had been opened in 2008 amidst much public fanfare. This particular exhibit was touted as a ‘cutting edge’ example of an exhibition constructed from moving images, photos and magical interactives and we wanted to experience for ourselves this best practice example.  

Oh the perils of technology-based exhibitions! Not only was this a disappointing experience, it was a deeply frustrating one. The entire experience is controlled by sensors and an audio guide offered in multiple languages.  A good idea… in theory. The problem, we discovered, is that if one thing goes wrong- everything goes wrong.

When we arrived, the surly front-of-house staff – who later informed us that they were from a sub-contracted security company and had virtually nothing to do with the Museum – thrust the audio guides at us along with a complicated brochure and told us abruptly that some of the exhibits hadn’t yet been translated into English.

This didn’t seem to be much of a problem (we had a few languages between us) until we got to the exhibits themselves – and found that in fact – most of them hadn’t been translated into English and therefore, since there were no text panels in any language and we only had the English audio guides (we couldn’t change the language settings) – we couldn’t access them at all.  Not only that, but the sensors to activate the audio interpretation were not working smoothly. Sometimes an English narrator would come on, and then mid-sentence, abruptly shut off, or revert back to the beginning.  It felt as if we were being taunted by these exciting looking bits of film archive, and intriguing exhibit armatures but weren’t given the key to unlock any of it.

Being in the business, we were quite forgiving, and tried to engage the only people on the floor in a conversation about what was meant to happen. They were uninformed and rude – and one told us crossly that everything we needed was in the brochure – read it and don’t bother us!

It was a good lesson. Technology can really enhance the exhibition experience, but it can also shut it down completely. Technology serves as an exciting invitation to explore more and interactive technology in particular promises the visitor they have a voice. Extending the invitation and then not delivering on any level- whether because the technology is not working, or because the staff won’t engage- is worse, in my mind, than not making the invitation at all.  It’s like inviting someone to a delicious dinner, but not allowing them to eat.

Poetry that makes you proud to be Gaelic and Nova Scotian

by Dr. Brad King

Last week I’d heard that an old friend of mine, Lewis MacKinnon, has become the first non-Scot to be named Poet Laureate of the Royal National Mod in Scotland.

Photo: Corey LeBlanc, originally posted on http://www.thecasket.ca/leisure-and-living/gaelic-poetry-book-released/

Since our days at university playing together in a small traditional music group, Lewis has made it his life’s work to preserve the Gaelic language in Nova Scotia and has pursued that vision relentlessly via his music, his poetry and his day job as CEO of the Nova Scotia Office of Gaelic Affairs.

Lewis’s story brings to mind the issue of cultural preservation, even as culture changes continuously all around us. Any attempt to preserve an all-but-dead language with no more than a few hundred native speakers remaining might appear like a last-ditch effort to save something long gone, but the fact that there’s even such a thing as an “office of Gaelic affairs” is evidence of the cultural shifts that have occurred on the East Coast and in Canada as a whole over the past thirty years. It’s cultural change that makes someone like Lewis possible – and in turn, he has made it possible – and it has to do with the rediscovery and reclamation of the traditional as a marker of identity.

When I was a teenager growing up in Cape Breton in the 1970s, traditional culture was to be avoided and shunned. It persisted and it had its flagbearers, but it made teenagers of my generation cringe. We identified with the modern, the up-to-date, the “now”, and longed to be better connected to the currents of the dominant North American urban culture.

And then, by the early 1990s, it was “cool” for a group of university students like us to form a band that played nothing but two-hundred-year-old Robbie Burns songs or fighting songs sung by the early 20th century IRA. And we were at the bottom rungs, the grassroots. In the more mainstream culture, all things Celtic were suddenly “in”, making it possible for performers like Natalie MacMaster, the Rankins or the incredibly talented Ashley MacIsaac to become international stars. So what happened? read more »

Colombia’s Cultural Initiatives – Notes from the Field

By Kyle Keefe

Earlier this year I traveled to Colombia, where I had the opportunity to visit a number of cities, museums and cultural sites. I encountered inspiring cultural initiatives and learned a great deal about the nature and character of Colombia’s cultural venues. Here are a few of my “notes from the field” for your reading pleasure.

Bogota, Columbia

Bogota, Columbia

I started my travels is Bogotá, the capital and largest city in Colombia. I was struck by the high number of visitors to museums and other cultural attractions, in particular the many families (from grandparents to babies) who visited museums in the capital together. The locals I spoke to agreed that museums are especially popular with families, who see them as a way to pass on histories and educate youth on the customs and traditions of the country and region. Needless to say, this is an invaluable role that museums around the world aspire to fulfill.

The Offering Boat Room, main piece, Museo del Oro

The Offering Boat Room, main piece, Museo del Oro

The Museo de Botero (displaying the work of Fernando Botero, as well as the art of Picasso, Renoir, Dali, Monet and others), Museo Casa de la Moneda and the Coleccion De Arte Banco De La Republica Bogotá are located on the same campus and are free to the public. Collectively, the museums have a wide spectrum of objects and artworks. I was struck by some of the very powerful political artwork exhibited in the contemporary galleries of the Museo de Botero. These priceless resources will benefit from further growth and program development in the future.

Another must-see for me was the Museo del Oro, a fantastic state-of-the-art museum with engaging exhibitions and a large collection of pre-Spanish works. The museum has an activity center geared toward young people that features technology and encourages interaction with visitors.

The city of Medellín, northwest of Bogotá, has undergone a radical transformation over the past three decades. Home to the drug Lord Pablo Escobar and the “Medellín Cartel”, Medellín was once considered one of the most dangerous cities in the world. The Cartel disbanded in the 1990s, and the city has since become a thriving industrial and cultural center.

The Jardín Botánico de Medellín was one of my favourite stops in this city, and contains species native to Columbia and South America. The new orchid garden features a distinct, architecturally intriguing structure (pictured in the photo here). The gardens also house several amenities including an upscale restaurant, outdoor café and an outdoor performance space.

Jardín Botánico de Medellín

Jardín Botánico de Medellín

Medellín has more than 40 art galleries, and is known as one of the most environmentally conscious cities in South America (in fact many Latin American cities appear to be ahead of the global curve in terms of environmental action.) Many of the city’s new buildings and structures including the sports coliseum and the metrocable line are built to be environmentally sustainable. Recycling and compost bins are also located on street corners. Medellín was one of the first cities to connect underprivileged communities located in Medellín’s hillsides to the larger metropolitan area through a series of metrocable trams. The metrocable makes transportation more democratic throughout the City and has acted as a catalyst for the development of community centers and libraries. A video describing the system can be accessed here:


I travelled to several cities and towns throughout Colombia, and to my mind Bogotá and Medellín seem to be making the biggest strides at the moment in terms of culture, quality of life and modernization. Please leave a comment if you have any further insights on these two centers or on any other communities in Colombia – we’d love to hear your opinion!

A Shiny New World

New meets Old: Me and my daughter against the backdrop of the breathtaking Cinque Terre.

by Ngaire Blankenberg

A holiday in Italy is a wonderful thing which should never be taken lightly. Days of being immersed in sunshine, Chianti wine, fabulous food, breath-taking monuments, naked men and cherubs, serene virgins — great for a holiday, but who would want to live there?

Joking aside, my recent immersion in the Old World of Italy brought home the stark contrast that exists between the Old World and the New. I realize these categories are somewhat absurd (most countries encapsulating both) but nevertheless…

For me the Old World includes countries where people can trace a direct line through about five generations of family in the same place. The New World is where most families descend from three generations at most. Italy and the rest of Europe is Old World. Canada and the US are New World (First Nations peoples being the obvious exception, among others). We’ll get into the Old-New World places in another post.

I’m first generation Canadian as are most of the people I know. Plus I’m mixed race. So, being ‘rootless’ is part of my DNA. I spent a while in my youth seeing this as a tragedy. I got over it, and now I basically just think it’s the future. In Toronto, where I live, half of the population was born outside of Canada. The majority of second generation immigrants who are married or living in common law are doing so with someone of a different race and ethnicity. My children’s fathers are both of a different heritage than me. My children’s friends have a different heritage than their friends. That’s just how we roll.

I found the Old World to be curiously exotic. I sensed the pull of generations of family. The Italians I spoke to could trace their lineage back for centuries. I could feel what being ‘rooted’ could mean- whether in witnessing the incredible built heritage or just eating a meal prepared from a family recipe. As I traipsed through hundreds of years of visible and very present history I thought of how very nice it would be to be able to claim my presence in a single place, to feel like my belonging was deep and entrenched in time. I felt a strong ‘nostalgia without memory’ (my favourite phrase from globalization theorist Arjun Appadurai) for a place where ‘everyone knows my name’ (sorry- I couldn’t help the Cheers reference).

In between all this longing followed by disparagement of North America and its relative paucity of cultural heritage, I also started to notice a particular ‘aura’ that seemed to exist around many of the North American tourists. After some harmless stalking, my theory was confirmed. I’d say 90% of mixed couples and mixed groups of friends I saw were from North America; the people who stood out because of how they dressed (whether hippy, emo, punk, enviro or whatever) seemed to be North American, dare I say- gay couples who were obviously together- were North American… In essence, the people who seemed free to celebrate their personal identity (no matter how fashionable or unfashionable) all carried markers of North America (whether accent, or the US/Canada flags on back packs, or the Roots sweatpants). I concluded: where the Old World has culture and heritage (and style, and good food)—the New World has personal freedom. It’s a toss up.

At any rate- I returned to Toronto very sad that my days among the powerful sculptures and monuments of Italy had ended but also somehow a bit more appreciative of what this shiny New World offers me and my family. It’s a freedom that we too often take for granted—that freedom to be ourselves.