Museums' survival depends on their ability to reach out

What is a struggling museum to do? Museum advocates say one answer to the funding dilemma lies in the collections themselves, especially those kept behind closed doors. Contrary to what some curators believe, patrons are fascinated by opportunities to poke around behind the scenes and learn about less-publicized efforts, advocates say. And cash can come with the appreciation. "If people know what's behind the scenes, what a museum or library has, they'll be more appreciative of the need to take care of the cost of doing that," says Larry Reger, president of Heritage Preservation in Washington, D.C.

Some museums let ordinary patrons observe day-to-day preservation efforts as well as regular displays, while others offer special tours. The San Diego Natural History Museum, which spotlights nature in Southern California and Baja California, has embraced both approaches.

Over the past 15 years, the museum has found funds to preserve its 8.5 million specimens by making the public and the research community aware of its presence, says executive director Michael Hager. Tour groups regularly walk through the museum's backrooms, watching workers clean fossils and catalog animal species. A museum remodel will allow visitors to watch conservators on the job. And on another front, the museum regularly enlists volunteers to help gather samples. Currently, 320 local "parabotanists" are canvassing the estimated 2,310 plant species that grow naturally in San Diego County for a botanical atlas that will be published later this decade. The volunteer efforts will add to that number and allow the museum to map where the species grow.

Without public outreach efforts, people become "disconnected" from science and fail to realize the work that's being done, says botany curator Jon Rebman.

There's an even bigger risk to keeping collections under wraps, says museum director Mr. Hager, who spearheaded efforts to build a new $38 million extension in 2001. "If the collections are unused," he says, "there's a lot of people who wonder why you have them in the first place." And apathy is the first step toward deterioration.

The staff at Ohr-O'Keefe Museum of Art knows the drill. Days before hurricane Katrina landed on the Gulf Coast, employees of the Biloxi, Miss., museum began packing pottery into boxes bound for the second floor and scouring the historic house of a former slave for artifacts that needed higher ground.

"We put the whole plan into place that we'd been practicing for many years," says executive director Marjie Gowdy.

Their efforts worked. The hurricane destroyed the old house and damaged some buildings, but the one that housed the pottery and artifacts held up.

Other museums and historic sites in Biloxi weren't so fortunate. Floodwaters destroyed exhibits and collections at several institutions, including the Beauvoir estate of Confederate President, Jefferson Davis.

"This little strip of land along the Gulf Coast is so rich culturally and historically, and now a huge amount is lost forever," Ms. Gowdy says.

Much of the damage was unavoidable. But some artifacts could have been saved if more institutions had been better prepared for a disaster.

Emergency plans are in place at only 20 percent of the nation's collecting institutions, according to Heritage Preservation in Washington, D.C. The conservation group is calling attention to the lack of preparedness and the risks presented by disasters ranging from tornadoes to broken water pipes. In the wake of Katrina, "there's lots of discussions going on and a lot of lessons that have been learned," says Larry Reger, the organization's president.

Page: 1 | 2