At this point we know the opinions of everyone who has weighed in on
the discussion.  Several people have cited specific media stories that
support one interpretation or another.  Until we get access to the
original material, we must (like most juries) base our judgement on the
credibility of the advocates of each position.  For most of us, there
is no other evidence.
 
On revisionism and editorialization:
 
But, while it's futile to repeat my opinions of the original and
specific controversy, I would like to muse on the direction that some
of the recent discussion has taken.  I feel uneasy with the facile
comments on the evils of "revisionist history" and "editorializing" in
museum displays.  These are value-loaded words; I have never met a
historian who referred to his own work as "revisionist" without irony.
Likewise, we know that all "editorializing" outside of the Op-Ed
pages of newspapers is inappropriate.
 
But there are neutral or positive terms for these concepts as well.
One man's "revisionism" is another's "reassessment" -- all the word
means is that history is being reexamined, and new conclusions drawn.
"Editorializing" is a value-loaded word for "presenting a point of
view" or "telling a story."  Many museum professionals feel that an
exhibit should *have* a point of view, lest it be a mere cabinet of
curiosities.  "Whose story is being told?" is a key question of exhibit
design.  Subjectivity is not necessarily either evil or avoidable in
our profession.
 
On facts and opinions:
 
Although facts (in the Platonic sense) may not change, the evidence by
which we deduce the facts changes frequently.  Documents are
declassified, diaries and letters become available, old data are
analyzed with new tools or the old tools are used differently.
Honorable scholars may differ honorably on what the facts have been,
and on the physical or textual evidence that supports them.
 
And regarding opinions:  is any account of history wholly free from the
vision of the historian?  I doubt it.  In the museum context, the mere
selection of artifacts implies a point of view, if only because
artifacts embody the point of view of the society that produced them.
As to presenting "just the facts, ma'am," some of the basic facts of
history are that people *have* opinions, that they hold them very
strongly, and that they act on their opinions with nontrivial
consequences.  It is also a fact that opinions, of individuals and of
societies, change over time.
 
There is, of course, a real difference between presenting the opinions
of people of fifty years ago, presenting the opinions of scholars
today, and presenting the opinions of an individual exhibit designer.
But I don't think the difference is as obvious as some have implied.
 
Suppose I as a curator choose to present a piece of physical evidence
(say, a propaganda poster) that documents the opinions of Americans in
the 1940's.  Does this imply that I, as a curator, agree with these
opinions?  Or, if the poster is embarrassing by present standards of
discourse, does its inclusion imply that I disagree with the sentiments
that produced it?  Since most exhibits don't resort to wall text that
states, "This idea is good, and that one bad," our perceptions of
"editorializing" are usually based on just such reactions to the
selection of artifacts.  Those perceptions may be accurate or not.  I
may have included the poster because I think it is interesting, and
illuminates the nature of the times that produced it.
 
On complexity:
 
Is it fair for me, as a *gedanken-curator*, to expect museum visitors
to understand a complex, controversial and emotionally charged argument
from a museum installation?  Probably not.  The design of thought-
exhibits is simple, for one is designing them for oneself.  The design
of real exhibits, accessible to a real audience, is a more difficult
matter.
 
Museum exhibits are a random-access medium.  Few visitors read all the
wall text, few examine all the artifacts.  Ideas are presented in the
order in which the visitor views them, which may not be the order the
designer assumed.  And exhibits, even high-tech ones, are not
interactive in the same sense as a conversation or symposium with
questions.  "You can't talk back to a wall panel."
 
I had promised to stay away from the specific controversy, but I find
that in the end I can't avoid it.  Those who have been following the
actual press releases, rather than the media summaries of them, have
recognized that quote, and its context in the Secretary's explanation
for re-casting the planned exhibit as a series of symposia and other
events.  It's not as simple a matter as "censorship", nor yet of
"punishment" of improbably incompetent administrators.
 
To return to our jury analogy, consider it a change of venue.  I think
it will interesting to see the final form the work takes.
 
Disclaimer:
 
Again, these are my opinions.  Mine.  Mine, all mine.  My employer has
nothing whatsoever to do with them.  (Yes, Mike, I *know* nobody reads
these damned disclaimers.  But sometimes a girl just needs to tilt at a
windmill.)
 
Confidential to Dr. Rups:
 
Yes, we're on opposite sides of the wall on this one too.  We can
discuss over a nice Zin, if you promise not to throw the bottle.  And I
will show you the latest addition to my collection of "neat WWII
propaganda cartoons", an odd little piece called "Fifth Column Mouse".
Definitely a candidate for my *gedanken-gallery* of timely popular
culture.
 
       +------------------------------+------------------------+
       |  Barbara Weitbrecht          |  [log in to unmask]  |
       |  National Air & Space Museum |  [log in to unmask]       |
       |  Smithsonian Institution     |  (202) 357-4162        |
       +------------------------------+------------------------+