At the end of June I went to visit Pete. He was sitting in an untenanted shop in St Nicholas’ covered market – getting on with his day-to-day emails but welcoming in anyone who cared to spend some time looking at the artefacts and memories that are beginning to populate the walls and floor space. Pete has rummaged through the cellars below the corn exchange and brought up posters, signs and an old wooden trading counter as a start for a pop-up museum.  

I asked him about why he was there: “We are co-curating a museum here, a display, it’s about creating a space together….Some traders say there’s not a lot in here at the moment… but it’s more about trying to inspire people to talk about the place.” So Pete’s presence is vital; he encourages those who come in to bring photos, to write their memories of the market on cards which are pinned up, or to just chat for as long as they want and leave their memories for Pete to document and add to the display. For new and younger visitors Pete’s enthusiastic conversation causes them to look around with a fresh eye. Some of the market traders have been multiple times to see how things are evolving. “The people who work in the market have their own interest – they bring stuff; ‘you might be interested in this we found behind the filing cabinet’.” So even the artefacts on show are ‘pop-up’ – no-one has valued or displayed them before and everyone is welcome to handle them. Pete has been brought a ‘tatty plan’ that shows where and whom had each stand in the 70’s – not an aesthetically pleasing object but something that makes connections; between the personal stories, the businesses and this place.  

But what does the pop-up museum hope to achieve? The market managers gave him the space as it’s not good for business to have vacant shops and they hope for extra footfall. From the historical environment perspective Pete’s interest is in the intangible heritage of the place. As a researcher on Connecting through Culture as we Age one thing really stood out to me. The importance of older people to the success of what Pete refers to as the ‘market story shop’ – it is older people’s stories that are it’s lifeblood. And Pete’s intention isn’t simply to record for posterity, it is to cast new light on a historic building so that when change happens – and the market has seen many drastic changes to its fabric and use – they are made in consideration of the huge value of the human relationships that the market embodies. “We’re interested in that near past that doesn’t get the same level of value as a Grade 2* listed building – the human connections about a place. …We want to highlight how rich a place it is in terms of memories and stories”. Pete says that by understanding the connections with a place we learn how to not throw away the baby with the bathwater when it comes to urban development. Pete nods at the famous ‘nail’ outside, and the Rolling Stones concert in the 60’s held in the Corn Exchange, but he also mentions the recent run on rubber ducks at the toy shop, the discounts for nurses from the BRI and the Chataway Café where traders met up to chew the fat in the 80’s. “It’s about not destroying what’s there…it’s getting more appreciation for this place rather than taking it for granted”. ”We’ll end up producing a booklet about the market – not a long story about building but about the people who have created the place we see today.”  

You can find the pop-up museum in the covered market opposite Treasure Island Sweets on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays until the end of Summer 2022 – there’s no fixed end date, just when it gets too cold for Pete to work there.  

The project has just entered it’s next phase; developing ‘demonstrator’ projects . These will be products and services that aim to support connection through culture for older people, the crux of this project. The 18 co-researchers have begun working with 26 creative professionals from a range of digital and artistic backgrounds and together they have become 44 co-designers. This co-design phase starts with three workshops run by Pervasive Media Studio at the Watershed in Bristol – to introduce co-researchers and creatives, to brainstorm, to loosen up those co-design muscles, to coalesce teams to take ideas forward into prototyping.  

This is a challenge for sure. The co-designers are a large and incredibly diverse group, themselves with varying experiences of co-design and with a wide range of accessibility needs including different languages, mobility, sight and hearing. But crucially this project depends on every person being included in order to hear and act on the voices which are rarely heard – designing products with and for those who are often not visible.  

So the challenge got me thinking more about what is really at the heart of co-design and what ‘inclusion’ really means. It goes beyond language and physical issues. Co-design is an emotional process that asks everyone to give of themselves. In a word successful co-design is down to relationships – those inter-personal interactions, understandings and generosity around the table (even if it’s a virtual table). It’s relationships that make it possible to participate, that ‘include’; everyone feeling that they have the space and are valued, and that open our eyes to what is really needed in terms of ‘accessibility’. It’s relationships that bridge gaps of experience and identity. It’s relationships that let someone throw an idea into the mix and not feel it belongs to them, allowing for the group to take that idea and transform it. And it’s others responses that help each person articulate ideas, evolve, and critique with no judgement.  

This sounds all too simplistic perhaps, and not useful. Yet, as we have worked with and got to know the older co-researchers over the last year, we have witnessed how deeply emotional connections influence their involvement and how necessary it is for some of them to feel their contribution is valued before they speak up and share their thoughts and ideas. So thinking about relationships can be useful when it comes to preparing for co-design. As a team we have needed to think through: how can we show others they are valued so that they can participate comfortably and openly? How can we prepare ourselves to take on other’s ideas and share our own in a democratic way?  

One answer is to get all the ‘little arrangements’ right – taxis, food, interpreters, answering calls quickly, etc. Another is to be open ourselves as a research team – sharing our findings and asking for feedback. But perhaps it’s also a personal matter – giving ourselves to those relationships, maybe becoming friends but certainly understanding supporters. Of course this then throws up so many questions about boundaries – but that’s for another day, another blog…  

A group of 13 co-researchers and researchers went to visit to the Van Gogh Immersive exhibition This is a commercial exhibit where Van Gogh’s life and works are reimagined as a series of rooms. The first room is akin to a more conventional exhibition with copies of some of his works, a timeline, plenty of information to read and a video. But the main room is a vast space with ever-moving projections on the four walls and the floor; boats moving across the water in darkness with yellow lights casting their brush-stroked reflections, sunflowers spinning and gliding from floor to ceiling, imposing dark arches with self-portraits looking out in imagined torment. At the end of the exhibition is an optional (and at additional cost) ‘VR experience’.  

This was the first time most of the co-researchers had experienced anything like this – and they were truly immersed – particularly in the VR. Having been previously underwhelmed by the earlier rooms, Carmeletta gave an excited and detailed account as the headset took her through the French countryside – recounting the fields of wheat and trees as she passed. Ruth and Fanny loved it all: Fanny wrote of the main room afterwards: ‘WOW! There was a moment when the walls were a gallery with all the pictures having themes moving through them, and when the seascape suddenly gushed down I audibly gasped!’. Ruth wrote: ‘I loved the Vivaldi when the images of him came on, changing rapidly. Loved the falling blossom, the rising birds, the steam, his portraits changing on the spot’. Erica sat in the main room for a long time, quietly exuding deep relaxation.  

It was fantastic that co-researchers were so positive about the experience and hopefully the visit was useful in informing thinking about the senses and user experience during the phase of the project that has just started – developing ‘demonstrator’ projects; digital products and services that aim to support connection through culture for older people.  

On one day last week, the 26th May, I attended two museum events.  

The first was a conversation between Abiti Adebo Nelson from the Uganda National Museum and Dr Kate Moles from Cardiff University organised by EdJAM. They were talking about their project that takes objects from the museum in Kampala into distant rural schools to encourage informal conversation, storytelling and performance – offering a space in which experiences of violence could be shared and ‘amplifying’ intangible memories of conflict and reconciliation by using those objects as conduits for storytelling and connection. I have to say I was bowled over by hearing about what they are doing; the ambition of the project and then the gentleness and deep sensitivity around stories and emotion from individuals and communities; unearthing shared understandings that can be mobilised for reconciliation. However, I also sensed a tension between these stories and the collection, preservation and heritage narrative associated with objects curated in a national museum.  

The same tension came up at Grayson Perry night at Bristol City Museum and Art Gallery. My friend was running a multi-coloured-felted-moustache-making workshop and supplied us with elastic rather than glue to hold the moustaches on, in case anyone felt tempted to stick a moustache on an exhibit. That said, Bristol Museum has my total respect in running an event that was about as eclectic and liberating as it gets in a formal museum setting. It was all about letting our creativity run wild; lots of dressing up and making elements of costume to change our appearance. Then anyone could walk onto a catwalk to show off their creations to the cheers of the assembled crowd. Two co-researchers on the Connecting through Culture project also went. They noted how many young people there were and got stuck into the creative making activities. I thought it was brilliant.  

In both these museum projects there was a sense of creating a space in which the community could express themselves, a move away from the paternalistic and colonial power structures that define what should be collected, kept and described. I had attended events previously about the need for decolonisation and disruption of power in museums – here it was happening in Uganda. At Bristol museum I was participating. For both projects I could see how some people were liberated to be themselves and be seen or heard. In that moment that the museum connected with people who don’t usually visit because the museum doesn’t feel like it belongs to them, the idea of museum was redefined and power dynamics shifted. As a researcher on Connecting through Culture, these events, just hours apart, gave me pause to reflect on our research. It validated for me personally both the importance the project places on understanding life trajectories and also our broad definition of culture; it’s not just about material artefacts and performance, it’s about connection and engagement; the support of community.  

My day ended with a questionnaire in my inbox – how was the night at the Museum? Does it make you more likely to visit the museum again? Yes, I think it does – but then I am a person who visits museums anyway. I hope the museum changes so that everyone else comes back on an ordinary day too.  

You can read more about the EdJAM project here:  

Mobile exhibition in Post conflict Northern Uganda

 

I love taking photos. I find colour, texture, perspective and content fascinating. I love subtlety and messages and I love pictures of the natural world. I’d like to take more pictures of people but that feels intrusive. I use some photos for cards and I like to do online collages, which I like to give to people who feature in them. You can make bookmarks and pictures to put up in your home. It’s so easy with digital photography, and cheap to process at Boots! I’m very grateful to the man who introduced me to digital photography. It’s a far cry from that old Morecambe and Wise joke – “Someday my prints will come, like in Snow White”! We’ve all been there. 

Initially as a semi-literate computer user I was a bit daunted by the idea of being a co-researcher; comparable to a reader pushing their finger along under newspaper headlines and sounding the words. With no academic experience or credentials this was a wonderful and scary chance. The first time I was involved with being part of a digital conversation I was thrilled. Being an older woman with isolating disabilities this was an opportunity to be part of a different community. So many new possibilities opened up and I greedily tried them all. Being part of different conversations, feeling I was contributing meeting new people all were so enriching. I felt welcomed and heard. I began an online poetry group and have moved towards a future Facebook group for those interested in poetry. I have needed and received a lot of support and feel I am learning so many new things. I am eagerly looking forward to the Van Gogh exhibit which we are visiting as a group. The enduring wonders of Art and Nature enhanced and expanded when these digital resources come into play. Virtual reality beckons… who knew there was still so much to experience and explore for a woman of limited mobility. I am wondering what else I might learn better more efficient ways to write, painting digitally? Creating an interactive picture book for children? These dreams are shaped by my wishes ambitions and experiences but there are a vast range of others. New skills and experience could widen and brighten the lives of many older and disabled people. I look forward to them being available to more individuals.