First, a general website note. If your institution is closed, please clearly mark so on your “visitors” page or “planning your trip” page or even your “homepage.” I admit I’m not a super careful website reader, but finding two different closed doors is frustrating.
The Jewish Museum
I arrived at the museum and looked around for a map to take with me. Or some kind of description of the exhibits. The woman behind the counter answered my request with a slightly annoyed answer that they have screens on every floor, or a brochure if I really need one. There were screens on every floor that showed all the ongoing exhibits, regardless of what floor I was on. In fact, there were tons of screens scattered throughout the museum. There was a kind of phenomenon of screens. That is, on a wall of art, artifacts, explanations, and screens, nine out of ten people are glued to the screen. Not that it wasn’t interesting content, but it seemed to be the only thing they were interested in.
The first exhibit I walked through was a pretty good example of “user-generated content.” The show itself was of work by Mayer Kirshenblatt, a man who isn’t renowned, it seems, for his artwork but rather for the subject of his art. He paints to reconstruct and remember scenes from his childhood in Poland. His paintings are charming and “enchanting” but they are not there on their artistic merit. From this first exhibit, it is clear that the museum is more concerned with the content of this work and its historical significance than with “art.” The descriptions of the paintings were either written by Mayer or written to sound as if he wrote them. The language was colloquial. At the end of the show, there was a table with cards and pencils where you could leave your memory of this time. A plaque explained that some cards would be chosen to be displayed and some might even end up on the website (if your memory was interesting enough). While I have some issues with the competitive overtone of this set-up, it seemed like a decent way to solicit contributions.
The other floors contained work on various themes. A lot of it was on the Holocaust. I was expecting this. I’m not sure if it was more or less than I was expecting…There certainly wasn’t any bold choice of not including a fair amount of work focused on the Holocaust. The other main theme that surfaced was that of gender and gender roles within Judaism. The choices seemed to say Judaism of the past is about the Holocaust and Judaism of the present is about gender. On an entirely separate floor, there were exhibits you might find in a specifically historical museum. These pieces addressed ancient ideas of travel, diaspora, and tradition. There was one (almost) interesting interactive piece about story telling. You sat at a table and lifted a received and chose a city to hear various stories about, as they were retold by actors.
The visitors there were not diverse. I could count the number of people of color on one hand and most of those were security guards. The other visitors were older, white men and women. I did notice more talking in these galleries (especially the Mayer show) than in other museums. People were talking about the work, talking about their families, talking about the upcoming holiday. The art really did seem to spark conversation. Finally, this was a museum where I did try to find the bathroom. It was hidden away with the children’s gallery which makes sense, but was also hard to find. The children’s gallery itself was closed, but looked interesting–like a day care play set.
I don’t understand museum’s that choose to put their online collection as the main feature of their website. The Jewish Museum has a cycling slideshow and the collection is only half of those slides. At the same time, if you’re going to have a slide show, I think it only makes sense if you have enough different things to highlight; they only have the special exhibit and the collection. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m in the minority, but when I go to a museum’s website, I want to see their hours and location, an online gift shop, and any available e-cards. Thinking about it now, it would be nice to have some kind of survey of reviews or criticism relating to the exhibits. As it is, the Jewish Museum’s site does have a few nice features. I appreciate the highlighted box in the upper right corner. It notes closings (very helpful) and special exhibits. The collections tab is very helpful because it’s organized by different features (arists, themes, locations). The specific exhibit information is cute and somewhat informative, but it’s nothing special. There is one unique element in that you can hear Mayer speak about his work and I missed hearing his voice at the exhibit itself (though I don’t think it would have been appropriate there.) Overall, the site is informative; it’s not super well laid out, but it’s navigat-able enough.
The Jewish Museum is accessible to seniors and presents history in a colloquial and reader-friendly way. Though the floors are a little confusing to navigate, visiting only one or two makes for a nice afternoon. Much of the information is presented in both text and some kind of video. There are large-print materials available and the volume on the videos is often turned up. Although there are few benches throughout the museum, Central Park is just across the street where everyone can enjoy a rest.
The Jewish Museum would make a great afternoon playdate for a couple of young kids. On the top floors, there are lots of beautiful artifacts that might even keep a youngster’s attention while mom/dad/nanny can explain (parts of) a cultural history of traveling, dancing, and singing. After that wears off–may only last one floor–check out the children’s museum. Kids can play in the clubhouse and with the various materials set out. Finally, Central Park is just across the street.
A small group of teenagers would enjoy the Jewish Museum, but probably only if forced to go for school. The artwork itself isn’t appealing enough on its own and the other floors are dedicated to history lessons. The contemporary art might resonate with high schoolers, but it must be presented in some kind of (educational) context. That is, I can’t imagine them enjoying the exploration of gender and religion unless it was part of a broader study of Judaism and/or gender studies and/or world religions.
The Center for Jewish History
I was curious about how different institutions presented information about the same culture and so visited the Center for Jewish History on 16th Street as well. Upon entering the building, you have to go through a metal detector and I was asked to turn on my laptop, too. This act immediately braces you for a particular kind of experience. There is both a sense of danger and a sense of protection. While the Center has exhibits, it seems to be primarily a research center. As I wandered aimlessly through the three floors, people with badges hustled to and fro, in and out of closed doors. Once I got over my initial fear of wandering into the wrong place, it was liberating and even enjoyable to wander without a map. At the front desk, I was given a green piece of paper with a list of the exhibits on each floor. No descriptions, no locations. I was completely on my own.
The exhibits themselves were interesting and different from those at the Jewish Museum in an interesting way. Each exhibit focused on a very specific part of Jewish history. While the Jewish Museum’s themes tended to be more general (gender and Jewishness), the CJH focused their shows on a particular time or person, probably due to the artifacts they had access to.
Throughout the floors, the artifacts were almost always arranged in a “scrapbook” fashion. Letters and photos memorabilia had been collected and attached to a black piece of foam core, elements charmingly placed at askew angles. A line or two of description was written right next to the artifact and a slightly longer, more in-depth and general description was written to the side of the display case. Occasionally, these descriptions were very long. It’s a tough question because when dealing with a subject like Zionism and Palestine, for example, I can’t imagine what you would “cut out” of a description. At the same time, I found it very difficult to read through a whole wall of text in order to better understand what I was looking at.
There was one exhibit that I really enjoyed that had very little explanation and was on the general side for the CJH. Along one wall, they had put together publications from throughout the twentieth century that young Jews had created. It was fascinating to see different points of view, different issues addressed, and especially different time periods among these photos and essays. It was a unique way to link present and past artifacts from a particular population within a culture.
The interactivity level of the CJH was low, but I didn’t miss it. There was one bank of screens, however, that pointed me to a work of art I would have otherwise missed. On one wall, extending up two flights, was a huge stone tablet created by a New York sculpture for this particular space. I would have walked right by it, thinking it was just part of the architecture, had it not been for a screen that caught my attention. After pointing out the sculpture, however, the screen proved to be of little interest. It was really confusing in its explanation of how and why the sculpture was made.
Once I walked over to the sculpture itself, I had a better sense of what was going on. In fact, there was another sculpture on the floor (both labeled “site-specific”) that I also would have walked right by. In some ways, it was really nice to be surprised by these two artworks. As long as the curators (and artists) don’t mind some people missing the subtlety, I think its refreshing not to be herded from one exhibit to the next. That is, there were no glaring placards of description or velvet ropes telling me where to look. It made me much more aware of my surroundings as I continued wandering.
There was another screen next to the first exhibit that worked as a digital guest book. I didn’t sign, but I scrolled through and saw other visitors’ thanks and advice and comments. Because everything was typed and on a screen, it was easy to read. I usually feel nosy reading through manual guest books, but with this one I had no problem scrolling through.
The weirdest screen I saw was at the very beginning of the first floor. It was a large flat screen on a wall by itself and it was playing a video about the center, almost like a commercial for the space you were already in. If it wasn’t so meta, it would just be useless.
Overall, the CJH, much like the Brooklyn Historical Society, felt like a unique (to me) combination of art display space, research facility, and artifact collection. It was hard to tell exactly what their intention was (if it was anything beyond that) and how all the different parts of the center related to each other. The Yeshiva Gallery was closed when I was there, but there was a display case along one of the walls of results from a few of the workshops they had run. These kinds of projects incorporate the community and expose the community (non-Jews?) to the center.
The website for the Center for Jewish History is very similar to that of the Jewish Museum. I liked how the CJH’s rotating slideshow, however, focused only on the new exhibits. It gave you a teaser to what you might see there. Their “TAKE A CLOSER LOOK” is a nice idea, but it’s hard to get a sense of an artifact on line, no matter how zoomed in you are. They do have an interesting “Web Exhibitions” section that links to other web-based collections. There is also a nice teachers resource page with links to essays and other web-friendly material.
The Center for Jewish History seems ideal for a college-aged student who does research in Jewish history, American history or a field in which Jewish culture might be a part–early New York performing arts, for example. There are many resources and many different kinds of resources. The reading room is packed with texts and books and has beautiful big tables. The historians who are a part of each different section of the center are available (probably by appointment) and make an excellent resource. Any kind of academic research would benefit from this kind of center.
The academic nature of the CJH, however, does not make it ideal for young kids or even young school trips. There is too much reading for a teacher to accurately describe what the kids are seeing. All the displays are high up and the writing is small. The exhibits are based around such specific topics that it would be difficult for an elementary or middle school teacher to find a good connection to curriculum.
A non-Jewish tourist might find the center really interesting. It is not just another museum and there is a certain freedom in wandering around an institution (as opposed to a map-based gallery). There are lots of small exhibits, one of which might resonate with a visitor and each are based enough in general history and or geography that a non-Jewish visitor could find an “in.” It’s also located away from the other museums and, if he/she isn’t museumed-out, could be a nice stop on a downtown day.
The Rubin Museum
The Rubin Museum isn’t exactly a cultural institution, but it does exhibit art and artifacts from a specific culture and location, the Himalayas. While the product of the museums’ exhibits ends up being similar to that of the Jewish Museum–a combination of art, artifacts, history, geography, interpretation–there is a slight difference in mission.
The museum itself is dark and mystical. There is only dim light on each of the pieces, generating a true sense of awe for these other-wordly artifacts. Despite the marble floor, it is very quiet. There are cushioned seats throughout the floors, some of which are positioned directly in front of specific pieces, as if to offer a place for worship or at least a contemplative state.
I ran into a tour when I was there and was struck by how much (at least this particular tour guide’s) the tour reinforced that sense of calm and contemplation. When they arrived at a new statue or tapestry, his first instructions were almost always, “Take a minute to take in this statue/tapestry/artifact. See what it says to you. What do you observe? How do you feel?” It verged on being a little dippy, but it also made a lot of sense and probably really enhanced the experience of the different pieces on display. I ended up getting ahead of the tour, but at one point the silence of the floor was broken by an eruption of applause, apparently for the peaceful tour guide.
One of the exhibits, “What is It?” did an excellent job of combining the kind of (historical, geographical, cultural) educational takeaways a cultural museum might one with the artistry of the artifacts. In an almost simplistic choice, each part of the floor presented the same kind of artworks and artifacts, but different information was described about each of them. There was a What is It section, a Where is It, How and Why. In this way, all of the work was presented, and a visitor could focus only on that, as well as a vast amount of information. My favorite part was the How is It? There was a display case with materials. The titles of the different sections were projected onto the floor, unobtrusive and subtle.

The space itself was very well organized. Each floor had a different show and while the floors aren’t huge, it felt like there was a lot of space. I always appreciate, too, when it is clear where to go and when you have covered the whole exhibit. Here, you just walk in a circle. Hidden away at one corner of each circle (I guess circle’s don’t really have corners…) was the “interactive table.” Each floor had some videos playing or touch screens with mini-documentaries. The other place the Rubin places its video screens is outside. I first knew about the museum because of the displays it has on 6th Avenue.
They aren’t interactive, but they ways have beautiful images of the current exhibits in a surprising location. Unlike the Jewish museum, everything was very quiet and in-obtrusive. The videos at the Jewish Museum weren’t annoying, you just couldn’t avoid them. In the main space of each floor, there were opportunities for interaction. There was one or two main poster-sized explanations and each had 8-10 hanging materials you could take with you. For example, one floor had a map you could take along to reference where the different pieces came from. I didn’t see anyone use them. I dropped mine when I took it. It made too loud a noise to try again.
I also noticed the descriptions of the individual pieces. Each one had a description, but the color of the placard was the same color as the wall. They were as hidden as possible. It made me think about access points. While the Rubin kept theirs simple, there was a clear entry point for someone who didn’t want any extra information (the pieces themselves), one for someone who was interested (the placards and posters on the wall), and someone who wanted to know in depth throughout her experience (the takeaway materials). Each one was available, but none were in the way of the other choices. Interesting to note, too, the vocabulary on the placards was pretty high. I usually like reading as much as I can, but I got bored pretty quickly with these.
The Rubin Museum’s website is a little cleaner than the Jewish Museum’s, but I find myself having to click too much and not always knowing where to click. Like the descriptions of the artwork inside, I think there’s too much reading involved. The site doesn’t take advantage of images as links–I have to find the triangles or highlighted words. The pages that explain the exhibits themselves are also wordy and too spread out. “What Is It?” for example, forces you to visit four different pages to answer each of the questions instead of finding some way to connect the elements of the show. At the same time, they get a lot of information out. Their education site is particularly full of resources and information. The multimedia link, unfortunately, is just a blog-like stream of video clips.
As long as they went on a tour, a high school class studying any part of Himalayan culture would enjoy the Rubin Museum. Each artifact can be approached in many different ways–its symbolism, its process, its heritage, its geography–that there will be something interesting both to an individual student and to a curriculum as a whole. The museum is easy to navigate and the floors are small enough that a class can spread out and see everything without getting lost. The dim lighting begs a sense of reverence and loud giggles and shrieks will (hopefully) be met with certain sense of embarrassment at the echo.
The Rubin makes an excellent shelter for a tourist on a rainy day. While the visitors might not want to make the stop when it’s nice out, there are more fun and interesting things to do in New York, a quick visit through the floors is an excellent way to wait out the rain. The exhibits are quiet and peaceful, an excellent break from the noise outside. And the information presented is unique and well displayed. There is also a delicious-smelling cafe on the first floor.
A young family may want to steer clear of the Rubin, at least until Junior is old enough to read. There are pretty things to look at, but too many seem breakable and/or sharp. The museum is so quiet that the slightest murmur echoes and becomes distracting for the other visitors. While there are elevators and smooth floors, the beautiful staircase in the middle of the museum provides too great a hazard for crawlers and strollers. Some of the videos might be interesting at first, but they don’t compare to the artifacts themselves and won’t last an entire trip.




















One Comment
Sara.. Excellent, t houghtful reviews and a good choice of three to compare. The Jewish Museum as you write it–and as I experience it, too—is a bit of a hodge-podge, connected only by Jewishness. It feels in one room like a traditional historical museum with things, but then they’ll have some art, or kids can play, and they try to bring technology in. But I never can see why anyone but little old jewish ladies and men would go. There’s nothing really compelling unless you are pre-compelled. You said it very well “it is clear that the museum is more concerned with the content of this work and its historical significance than with “art.” I wonder what you would do if you were suddenly the head curator. Would it be OK to just service your primary audience? How would you get a younger generation to go? The initial interface of a nasty receptionists sets up your whole feeling of the place. I always wonder this. Maybe they’re just to busy, I think. Then I think, wait, this is their job! Note what you say about the museum website: I go to a museum’s website, I want to see their hours and location, an online gift shop, and any available e-cards. Good perception, and yet it seems most museums don’t know yet what to do with a website. It just becomes another place to talk at you…tell us what they want to tell us, not what we want to know. How would you, or would you, show artifacts on a website? What kind of stories would you tell?
The CJH, which I have not been to, sounds like they are clearer who they are. It’s another kind of public space for learning, more like a library. Do they even want huge crowds? My guess is no.
The Rubin.. what a lovely place, right? Your description is great. It does feel like you’re in a separate world…and that the people who made it and who work there really have a sense of mission about what they are doing. BTW, the café is great, and they have concerts on the weekend which are wonderful. For your manifesto, take note of this excellent observation about access points (for information) “It made me think about access points. While the Rubin kept theirs simple, there was a clear entry point for someone who didn’t want any extra information (the pieces themselves), one for someone who was interested (the placards and posters on the wall), and someone who wanted to know in depth throughout her experience (the takeaway materials). Each one was available, but none were in the way of the other choices. Interesting to note, too, the vocabulary on the placards was pretty high.”
I learn a lot from your observations. Thanks!