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FT: Steiff teddies head home as outsourcing is too much to bear

Steiff teddies head home as outsourcing is too much to bear

By Gerrit Wiesmann in Frankfurt

Published: July 5 2008 03:00 | Last updated: July 5 2008 03:00

In the 106 years since it was invented, the cuddly teddy bear has become a bellwether of capitalism.

The plush toy was pioneered by Steiff, the German company that claims it made the first bear with moveable arms and legs in 1902.

The mohair and felt invention came just as the citizens of the US were celebrating the humaneness of then president Theodore Roosevelt, who spared a bear on a hunting trip. Steiff was soon able to snag a burgeoning export market.

A hundred years later, the company helped swell the outsourcing wave as it moved about a fifth of production from high-cost Germany to low-cost China. Five years later, it is in the throes of moving it back, having learnt that cost is not everything.

The privately-owned company in southern Germany joins a steady stream of small, specialised western companies that have found the lure of cheap Asian labour outweighed by the added difficulties - many unforeseen - of manufacturing there.

"We have learnt our products are better if we make them ourselves," says Martin Frechen, co-chief executive of the firm in Giengen, Baden-Württemberg.

"The things we wanted to be done were not the things the Chinese were used to doing." He stresses Steiff never had problems with safety standards that some US importers have struggled with. "Things were also fine in terms of quality," he recalls. "But when we looked at whether this was sustainable, big question marks arose."

This was less a symptom of purported Chinese laxity than changing priorities at Steiff. Mr Frechen and co-chief executive Wilfried Blömke-Trox, installed in 2006 and 2007 respectively, decided to bring the brand back to its high-quality roots.

"Steiff had tried to enter the €20-€30 ($31-$47) range - before, some products had sold for €100," Mr Frechen says. "But cheapness meant an end to uniqueness. So we switched from price back to quality" - a Steiff bear now costs €30-€80.

But the high turnover of staff in China made for problems. "It takes eight to 12 months to get a seamstress up to speed," Mr Frechen says. "As sewing is difficult and making microships easier, we worried about keeping enough trained staff."

There were also the disadvantages of distance that Steiff had born stoically up till then. High transport costs and overbooked container ships meant the company had to buy pricey space in advance, sometimes to find out no shipment was ready. Outsourced production is meant to be fully in-sourced again by late 2009 to factories in Germany, Portugal and Tunisia. They employ 800 people. Transport savings and selling more expensive products are expected to cover the rise in the wage bill.

Mr Frechen declines to divulge numbers. But he says repositioning the brand and moving production is helping a bottom line hit when Steiff went down market five years ago.

He clearly feels global trends in manufacturing are a less to blame for Steiff's recent roller-coaster ride than changes in the retail front end. He notes that US department stores once accounted for 30 per cent of toy sales, but today it is just 1 per cent.

"Soft toys in the US are now dominated by the discounters. Wal-Mart, Target and Toys R Us account for over two-thirds of sales," he says. "Retailers and customers think soft toys have to be cheap - it's a trend we're seeing elsewhere as well."

As a result, Mr Frechen says, Chinese toy manufacturers "always think in terms of price and volume." Any one with "complicated" criteria should think about keeping manufacturing in-house. "We say soft toys don't have to be cheap," he says.

"For children, surely only the best is good enough - the best design, the best production, the best safety standards," he continues.

"Soft toys help to comfort children, they're vital for a child's development," he concludes. And maybe for capitalism's, too.

Speech to the Young : Speech to the Progress-Toward


Speech to the Young : Speech to the Progress-Toward

Say to them,
say to the down-keepers,
the sun-slappers,
the self-soilers,
the harmony-hushers,
"even if you are not ready for day
it cannot always be night."
You will be right.
For that is the hard home-run.

Live not for battles won.
Live not for the-end-of-the-song.
Live in the along.

Gwendolyn Brooks

 

 

 



Hope is the Thing with Feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Emily Dickinson

Telepresence

videos/links at:
http://www.musion.co.uk/Cisco_TelePresence.html
http://www.musion.co.uk/Gorillaz_MTV_Awards.html
http://www.humanproductivitylab.com/archive_blogs/2007/11/15/cisco_experimenting_with_an_on_1.php
http://www.nytimes.com/packages/khtml/2007/04/02/theater/20070401_LOSING_FEATURE.html
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/04/02/theater/02eyel.html



Click to enlarge
Click to enlarge
Click to enlarge


The 'Cisco On-Stage TelePresence Experience' was an ambitious collaboration between Cisco and Musion Systems, which took placisco_onstage1_300x176px.jpgce during the opening of Cisco's Globalization Centre East in Bangalore, India.

Musion seamlessly integrated their 3D holographic display technology with Cisco's TelePresence's system to create the world's first real time virtual presentation.

Cisco CEO John Chambers, who was live on the Bangalore stage, 'beamed up' Martin De Beer, the Senior Vice President of emerging Technologies, and Chuck Stucki the General Manager of TelePresence, live from San Jose, California. Chambers was then able to have a 'face to face' discussion with De Beer and Stucki on the future of Cisco TelePresence, demonstrating first hand the potential capabilities of the system in front of the watching audience.

This demonstration married the telepresence display technology of UK based Musion with the ultra high definition camera and codec technology that powers the Cisco TelePresence offering and the Cisco Human Network that hooked together Bangalore and San Jose.

How The Heck Did They Do That?

The Musion display technology is similar to the tech that telepresence provider Digital Video Enterprises uses for their seamless tele-immersion room.  A sheet of Musion's patented, transparent Eye-liner foil is stretched across the stage.  The ultra high-definition image of Marthin De Beer and Chuck Stucki are captured in San Jose and the images of the virtual humans are then transported over the Human Network to be displayed in Bangalore.

The Cisco shots make it difficult to see the technology at work but the New York Times ran a story illustrating some of capabilities the Eyeliner video product brings to a modern theater production. It helps make the tech more tangible.

cisco_onstage3_460x332px.jpg Actors (not seen by the audience) are reflected onstage on a nearly invisible screen, observed by Aldo Perez, right, in the play "Losing Something," at the 3LD Art & Technology Center.

The Musion system takes a captured image and shines it down to a mirror on the ground with an ultra-bright projector. The image then bounces off the mirror and is displayed on the Eye-liner foil (as shown above). For more images of the process at work, check out the Times' slideshow

An excellent example of the Musion system technology shown in the Gorillaz video performance. The MTV Europe Awards marked the first live performance of Gorillaz. The Musion® Eyeliner™ System was used to beam the three-dimensional holographic performing cartoon characters on stage.

http://www.tournant.com/blur/images/photos/grandes-photos/gorphotos/a-group.jpghttp://news.bbc.co.uk/media/images/40982000/jpg/_40982346_gorillaz416ap.jpg

Their appearance at the 2005 MTV Awards was billed as the 'world's first 3D hologram performance' and was one of the highlights of the evening.

As the world's most successful "virtual band", the human artists behind Gorillaz traditionally appear at live gigs as silhouettes on a giant screen combined with images of their cartoon alter egos. However, with the help of Musion® Systems, they were able to perform in full holographic glory.

http://cache.viewimages.com/xc/56077659.jpg?v=1&c=ViewImages&k=2&d=17A4AD9FDB9CF19390335F8FA9CA92A610DF01F660B0D6F6A245704FE6840619

http://www.humanproductivitylab.com/archive_blogs/2007/11/15/cisco_experimenting_with_an_on_1.php
http://www.nytimes.com/packages/khtml/2007/04/02/theater/20070401_LOSING_FEATURE.html
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/04/02/theater/02eyel.html

FT: A monument to the possible

A monument to the possible

By Edwin Heathcote

Published: May 17 2008 01:48 | Last updated: May 17 2008 01:48

Standing on an artificial island off Doha’s harbour, Qatar’s new Museum of Islamic Art looks like a leftover from an epic Atlantean production. It has that stage-set flatness, and that odd cocktail aesthetic of ancient past, postmodern and off-key speculation that characterises science-fiction future-worlds. Blockbusters demand visions that suggest something hovering between utopia and dystopia, the wonders of imperial Rome tempered with the eerie megalomania of Mussolini’s version. In the searing sunshine of Qatari daytime, it has a cheesiness about it, a dated, sub-art-deco chunk seated self-satisfied between a pair of operatic obelisks.

But as you approach, it gets better. Suddenly the chunky stonework and sharp edges begin to make sense, it becomes more as you’d imagine a castle or a citadel must have looked when new, powerful but crafted. Then, once inside, everything resolves itself. This, you realise, is real architecture.

The museum is the work of Ieoh Ming Pei, the Chinese-American architect of the Louvre Pyramid and, at 91, it’s being billed as his final work. He apparently had to be cajoled into accepting the commission at all. Once he took it on, however, he embarked on a grand tour of Islamic architecture and, unlike some architects who seem to accept commissions in the Gulf as virtual sculptures, designing a shape and letting the workers get on with it, Pei has obviously taken his work very seriously indeed. After studying Islamic monuments around the world, Pei settled on a small fountain for ablutions outside the 9th-century mosque of Ahmad ibn Tulun in Cairo – from this, he derived his inspiration for the museum.

The sense of arrival is sharpened by the entry over a short footbridge (although VIPs can arrive by boat in a Venice-style landing) and, once inside, you are struck by a central space of impressive intensity and complexity. Culminating in a silvered faceted dome that shimmers 50m above the cool atrium, the heart of the building is a generous and dynamic space across which steel bridges fly and from which galleries shoot off in all directions. The height and the calm grandeur take you completely, satisfyingly, by surprise.

There is the slightest, unfortunate hint of a panopticon – Jeremy Bentham’s idealised prison plan, which allowed warders to monitor all prison wings from a single point – but, as it also evokes so many other typologies from mosque to palace courtyard, perhaps we can forgive that. There is also a terrace courtyard with a fountain at its centre and arcades giving on to a tantalising view of the sparkling sea of the harbour, a seductive space that reveals the depth of Pei’s immersion in Islamic form.

There are a few more odd blends of style and motif – cast-concrete ceiling panels that resemble late-colonial British brutal (a 1960s office or hospital in Africa, say), bridges that would look more at home in an airport, furniture that would look more at home in a corporate lobby – but somehow it hangs together, and well. Pei is too old and too clever to worry about fashion. This looks like a good museum that could have been built in the early 1970s: it exemplifies a kind of solid, Platonic modernity that has fallen way out of fashion.

The gallery design has been done by Jean-Michel Wilmotte, the current globetrotting darling of the arts interior. It was still being installed when I was there and security and secrecy were fanatical, but it looked good – dignified, careful, considered. The collection is astonishing, with items ranging from the seventh to the 19th centuries. A 10th-century bronze fountain head from Andalusia, a 10th-century Iraqi astrolabe and an extraordinary 14th-16th-century silk carpet from Samarkand illustrated with a strange blend of garden and chessboard are among the 700 exquisite items that make up the display.

Price has been no object. The Qatari royal family have been acquiring at a rate that has led almost to hyper-inflation in the market. The depth and range of the acquisitions suggests the seriousness with which the royal family is addressing their museum building programme. Pei’s delayed but wonderful building is obviously only the first step. The surrounding harbour is due to be developed into a cultural district bristling with new museums, a cultural ambition similar to that of Abu Dhabi with its vast development at Saadiyat Island and Dubai with its plethora of art fairs and museum plans.

The idea is apparently to lay a solid foundation for culture in the region, making it a “destination”. The question remains, however, for whom? Unlike traditional cultural hotspots such as Paris, London or, New York, these are tiny states with tiny populations. Qatar has less than a million inhabitants and, unlike Dubai, it is hardly an established tourist destination.

But Qatar’s ambitions stretch beyond the immediate future. The 2,500-acre Qatar Foundation campus under construction just outside Doha will house branches of Cornell and Georgetown universities, and an impressive list of international architects from the site’s masterplanner Arata Isozaki to Rem Koolhaas is drawing up plans. Qatar is determined to become the region’s educational and cultural hub (as, of course, is Abu Dhabi).

The Museum of Islamic Arts is a confident beginning. Heretical as this may sound, I have never been convinced by IM Pei’s work. The last building I saw of his, the modern art museum in Luxembourg, is a stolid chunk of past-its-sell-by-date pudding, a truly unmemorable building. But the Qatar Museum is in another league. Pei may see this as his swansong, and he has invested it with feeling and a kind of monumentality that stands in stark contrast to the glassy, superficial skyscrapers emerging on the Doha skyline like a high-tech fungus. It was Pei’s decision to put the museum offshore, to stop the city’s commercial architecture encroaching on its setting. Despite its clunky, stage-set exterior, with its overtones of everything from Assyria to art deco, Pei has built an extremely fine museum. It is a building that – curiously – straddles modernism’s late heroic phase, the post-modernism that destroyed it and the new modernist consensus that has emerged since. It will be intriguing to see who uses it, whether or not it works as an anchor to this hugely ambitious programme, and whether Qatar can live up to it.

Edwin Heathcote is the FT’s architecture critic. For more coverage of the region go to www.ft.com/gulf

FT: Kipling’s wise words

Kipling’s wise words

By Stefan Stern

Published: April 28 2008 19:27 | Last updated: April 28 2008 19:27

A wise colleague once said: “If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs, you have probably failed to grasp the seriousness of the situation.”

How bad are market conditions today? Should we be panicking or is it time to keep a cool head when all about you have lost the plot?

I cannot answer these questions for you. But we should, I think, be guided by the sobriety and realism of the words quoted above. Even if some economists have predicted all seven of the last three recessions, that doesn’t mean they are necessarily wrong this time.

The bathos of the wise colleague’s words is attractive too. It is well-judged: a liberal (and sarcastic) response to the troubling jingoism many readers find in the work of Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936), author of the poem, If, to which he was referring.

Although Kipling was once wildly popular and an early winner (1907) of the Nobel prize for literature, he is controversial today. Many accuse him of being a racist and an imperialist. His talk of “the white man’s burden” and his portrayal of primitive “natives” being brought reluctantly to civilisation have caused, and continue to cause, great offence.

His admirers say his work is shot through with irony and that most of the expressions of white supremacy are spoken by fictitious characters, not the author himself. Kipling was more complicated than he looked. More than 100 years after they were written – and read in a different context – it is hard to be certain whether his words are always meant to be taken completely seriously:

“Take up the White Man’s burden –

The savage wars of peace –

Fill full the mouth of Famine

And bid the sickness cease.”

The words of If are another matter. It was voted Britain’s favourite poem in a BBC poll as recently as 1995. This may reflect badly on British popular taste – George Orwell labelled Kipling “a good bad poet” – but it also tells you that its message endures.

If is not exactly unproblematic. Orwell said it was popular with Colonel Blimps – reactionary, militaristic types – who were so surprised to find a poet on their side that they elevated his words to Biblical status.

But If should not be the exclusive property of the Blimps. It is not exactly the most beautiful poem in the English language – far from it. But at this tense moment in the business cycle, it is worth considering whether Kipling, even in his arch-19th century way, has something useful to tell us. The poem begins:

“If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;”

This is not as crusty as it might sound. Recognising that people may doubt your ability to lead, for example, is not something observed in many chief executives. Kipling does not see it as a weakness to acknowledge the doubts that others may have. The second stanza opens:

“If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;

If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;”

This is good advice too. And it applies to people working at all levels, not just lonely leaders. The lines about triumph and disaster are posted on the wall by the players’ entrance to Wimbledon’s centre court. Successful sportspeople know not to take victory for granted. They are also good at bouncing back from the most severe disappointments. The final stanza begins:

“If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;”

How very 2008. Today’s “authentic” leaders are happy to talk to anybody – investors, colleagues, subordinates – without putting on an act. They are themselves, in the boardroom and on the shopfloor. They are also, as Kipling writes, equally immune to flattery and unfair criticism.

If you can manage all this, and more, you will attain the highest accolade, Kipling says (warning – un-PC conclusion coming):

“You’ll be a Man, my son!”

I hope female readers do not feel excluded by this. If should be read as an equal opportunities poem.

Orwell was not a Kipling fan. “He dealt largely in platitudes, and, since we live in a world of platitudes, much of what he said sticks,” he wrote. Well, yes and no. If may be platitudinous in places. But it is always worth another look.

“The mere existence of work of this kind, which is perceived by generation after generation to be vulgar and yet goes on being read, tells one something about the age we live in,” Orwell also said.

That is true too, but not really, I think, in the way that it was meant.
This column returns on May 13

Magnum Photos: Chien-Chi Chang

PhotographersIn MotionBlog
Magnum Photos Picture of the Week


TAIWAN. Taipei. 1999. A bride at a photo studio. © Chien-Chi Chang/Magnum Photos

It was a little past three o'clock, and the day hadn't dawned yet. Unable to sleep, Kuo-hsun Chen decided to get up and wait for the cosmetician. On this day of great joy, her bridegroom would arrive here at the auspicious hour of five o'clock in the morning to marry her. By then, she must be done with the makeup, dressed in the white lacy gown and the expensive ornaments, and waiting quietly, sitting on a chair. An 80-table banquet would already be laid out by the roadside near her future husband's house to welcome her.

Driving down to the countryside after the wedding, they became stuck in traffic. The bouquet of flowers in her hands soothed her. The nervousness and excitement of the morning has dissipated for the moment and she couldn't help feeling drowsy. Waken by the laughter of the bridal pages, her first thought was: "Am I drooling?" She was not, fortunately. Later, when she saw the photograph of herself, she said, "I look like a Barbie doll."

= =

Find this image in:



I do, I do, I do:
by Chien-Chi Chang

The Taiwanese wedding pictures in Chien-Chi Chang's I do, I do, I do are not the celebratory nuptial norm that are the bread and butter of photographers everywhere.

Rather, Chien-Chi Chang reveals a jaundiced look at the institution and the industry of marriage. A couple is caught in a net of spray-string confetti; a bride poses among ruin; a chain of wedding couples kisses in a zoo with caged elephants behind them; and a post-nuptial couple, in all their Western finery, sleep soundly, and separately, in the back of a limousine.

“I do, I do, I do” reveals conflicts that the artist, at the time a 41-year-old unwed man with three younger sisters and no brothers, felt about the notion of marriage and all the traditional family pressures that it entails.

2Buy the book
2View inside the book



 

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NY Times: Museums Refine the Art of Listening / Customer Experience in Museums

see also: http://goodexperience.com/2008/03/museums-studying-the-customer.php


Museums Refine the Art of Listening

Librado Romero/The New York Times

ON THE FLOOR Naum Gabo’s "Linear Construction in Space, No. 4," a plastic and stainless steel sculpture, draws visitors in a conventional gallery at the Whitney Museum of American Art. More Photos >

          
      
       
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Published: March 12, 2008
 

IF it seems someone   is watching every time you go to a museum, you’re not far off.

Readers' Comments

What was your most memorable museum experience?

 

   

When the Museum of Modern Art opened its expanded $450 million home on West 53rd Street three years ago, the ticket desk began compiling the ZIP code or country of origin of every visitor, putting the information in a database.  

At the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, which is gearing up for the opening of its $345 million expansion in 2010, researchers found that besides marquee names like Picasso, van Gogh and Monet, subjects like interior design, royal jewels and Egyptian mummies pull in the crowds. And at the Detroit Institute of Arts, officials recently discovered that the average visitor spends only four or five minutes in any gallery, rather than the 20 minutes the officials had expected. Only 7 percent bothered to read the wall plaques.

While museum market research has been around for two decades, gathering data about visitors has never been as important, or as sophisticated, as it is now. As museums expand, they need more paying customers to cover ever-increasing costs. And they’re competing for those customers with local shopping malls, movie theaters, even grocery stores.

“I call it the water-park phenomenon,” said Ford Bell, president and chief executive of the American Association of Museums in Washington. “A zillion other things are competing for our leisure time. People might visit a museum to see a Monet or a toaster or a textile display — what’s important is it’s getting them in the door.”

Now, besides the reliable techniques — focus groups, exit surveys and mail-in questionnaires — museums are exploring new ways to learn what visitors want. In Detroit, which is spending $158 million on a renovation and gallery reinstallation project to be finished this fall, researchers visited local mothers in their homes to determine how to attract more families to the museum.

More common, however, is the use of software to help museums get a more accurate picture of who their visitors are.

“Now you can do 10 different surveys at the same time,” said Karin Graftstrom, market research manager in the visitor services department of the Metropolitan Museum. “You could never do that before.”  Visitor research has had an impact on everything from museum hours and the brevity of wall labels to the music played during evening hours. At some museums, it has influenced the mix of exhibitions.

At the Museum of Modern Art, Glenn D. Lowry, the director, said that it was just as important to know who is not coming to the museum as it is to know who is. 

“It’s what you’re missing,” he said. While entry information and other data showed that a healthy number of college students visited the Modern, “we were not drawing as many of the 20- to 30-years-olds that we hoped,” Mr. Lowry said. “So we went out to determine how to better communicate with them.”

This age group was visiting the Modern’s affiliate, the P.S. 1 Contemporary Art Center in Long Island City, Queens, but didn’t seem interested in the Manhattan museum. So two years ago the Modern started the “Pop Rally,” with screenings, gallery tours, collaborations with artists and concerts, including performances by Patti Smith, Chicks on Speed and Paper Rad. The museum asked its younger staff members to organize the programs.

The museum also began posting messages about “Pop Rally” and its exhibitions on the museum Web site, as well as sending e-mail and text messages. “A lot of this is a generational challenge,” said Mr. Lowry. “It’s communicating in ways that people are comfortable.”

The “Pop Rally” events have attracted 500 to 1,000 attendees, the majority from just the age group the museum had targeted. Eventually, the museum wants to find out if some of these visitors also come to see exhibitions at other times, too.

Mr. Lowry said research was helping the museum make more informed decisions about issues like opening hours, but doesn’t influence the actual kinds of exhibitions it presents.

When the Modern realized, by looking at country-of-origin data, that the number of Korean and Chinese visitors had increased significantly, it added Korean and Chinese to the six languages its brochures and guides were printed in. Officials also started offering guided tours in more languages. And by tracking the time at which visitors arrived, museum officials realized that during the holidays the ticket booths were getting especially crowded, so opening time was advanced an hour to 9:30 a.m.

By questioning visitors in its lobby as well as through the mail, the museum discovered that people don’t circulate in the ways curators would expect.

“People graze,” said Wendy Woon, deputy director for education at the Modern. “Some read labels, others don’t,” adding, “We want to give people the keys, not turn the lock. People want choice.”

So besides the traditional audio guides the museum has been offering ways of getting information on hand-held devices and cellphones. With some exhibitions, the museum set up small rooms with catalogs and other educational materials.

While serving up what audiences want may be a smart business move, there is a fear by curators that things can go too far, that catering to public opinion could dumb down a museum and supplant curatorial wisdom.   Are museums for high culture or low? Places to see Ralph Lauren’s car collection and “Star Wars” costumes, props and drawings rather than Vermeer and Renaissance tapestries?

Most institutions stress that the findings from their research have no bearing on plans for exhibitions — that the two are kept apart, a separation of church and state. “It’s all about how we present it, not what we show or don’t show,” said Nancy Price, director of marketing and communications at the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco.

But at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, research does influence the mix of exhibitions presented each year. John S. Stanley, deputy director of programs and services, said the museum conducted on-site written surveys where it presents 50 ideas and lets the public comment on them. “If something scores low, for instance, we will then pair it with a show that tests high so they balance each other out,” he said.

A year and a half ago, the museum hired the marketing firm J.D. Power & Associates to try to understand what visitors want. “We found out that the No. 1 thing that gets people to the museum is our collection,” Mr. Stanley said.

The research also found that visitors had many different ideas about the best way to learn about the collection, so the museum began testing different presentation elements. “We recently put a touch screen in a Mayan exhibition to see how the public interacts with it,” Mr. Stanley said. The screens were positively received.

And because museum-goers said they liked choices other than audio guides or formal tours, Boston officials initiated “spotlight talks,” informal discussions with instructors in galleries. The museum recently tested different types of seating in the galleries, some that can be moved, some that cannot. “These might be seemingly mundane,” Mr. Stanley said. “But they are ways of getting a satisfied visitor.”

In Detroit, museum staff conducted “timing and tracking” surveys, where researchers watched to see how much time visitors spent in the galleries and how they looked at art. “That was a real wake-up call that we needed to do things differently,” said Matt Sikora, associate educator for evaluation at the museum. “The studies showed people were overwhelmed.”

So in its new galleries, the museum hung fewer works of art. Wall labels were cut to 150 words from 250. The museum even sought opinions about a video for its 18th century galleries. The video showed a period dinner, replete with Meissen porcelain and 18th century silver. A stylist created a period feast, right down to a roast pig centerpiece.

“It was meant to show the opulence of the dinner,” Mr. Sikora said. “The problem was the video was too long to engage its audience.” So it was cut to five minutes, from eight. “And the pig generated so many questions and was so distracting we left it out,” he said.

At the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, officials have been conducting exit surveys three or four times a year for a decade. More recently, they added focus groups and online surveys. In addition to the usual intelligence, officials found that “people want to know that what they’re seeing is relevant to their life,” said Ms. Price. “This might sound simple, but it’s important for us to hear.” And something they keep in mind when programming lectures; the museum prefers to invite speakers who are well-known in the community.

When they know that an exhibition might be particularly challenging, museum officials introduce “learning lounges, rooms next to the galleries with catalogs and excerpts of artists talking,” she said. “And when we had the Matthew Barney show we presented a variety of different ways to access the audio guide, through iPods and cellphones as well as traditional audio guides, tools that were especially familiar to its under-35 audience.”

Research also showed officials in San Francisco that one of the best ways to reach audiences is by placing banners around the city. “We hear it from tourists and we hear it from folks in town, members and nonmembers,” Ms. Price said.

Now, as the museum prepares for a Frida Kahlo retrospective in June, it is trying to figure out how to best serve what it anticipates will be an unusually large number of visitors. It will stay open until 10 p.m. on Thursday nights, rather than the usual 8:45 p.m. And curators are grappling with how best to install the show. Do they mount the paintings higher so they will be visible from a distance? And what about the wall labels? How long should they be and where will it be the easiest to see them?

In the end, Ms. Price said, the answers to those and other questions come from research — “studying ways our visitors can best access art and information.”

Excerpt




(Source: Reading Lolita in Tehran, Azar Nafisi)

Why did I stop teaching so suddenly? I had asked myself this question many times. Was it the declining quality of the university? The ever-increasing indifference among the remaining faculty and students? The daily struggle against arbitrary rules and restrictions?

....

For a long time I had dreamt of creating a special class, one that would give me the freedoms denied me in the classes I taught... I wanted to teach a handful of selected students wholly committed to the study of literature, students who were not handpicked by the government, who had not chosen English literature simply because they had not been accepted in other fields or because they thought an English degree would be a good career move.

.....

I was reminded of a painter friend who had started her career by depicting scenes from life, mainly deserted rooms, abandoned houses and discarded photographs of women. Gradually, her work became more abstract, and in her last exhibition, her paintings were splashes of rebellious color, like the two in my living room, dark patches with little droplets of blue. I asked about her progress from modern realism to abstraction. Reality has become so intolerable, she said, so bleak, that all I can paint now are the colors of my dreams.

The colors of my dreams, I repeated to myself, stepping out of the shower and onto the cool tiles. I liked that. How many people get a chance to paint the colors of their dreams? I put on my oversize bathrobe-it felt good to move from the security of the embracing water to the protective cover of a bathrobe wrapped around my body. I walked barefoot into the kitchen, poured some coffee into my favorite mug, the one with red strawberries, and sat down forgetfully on the divan in the hall.

This class was the color of my dreams. It entailed an active withdrawal from a reality that had turned hostile. I wanted very badly to hold on to my rare mood of jubilance and optimism. For in the back of my mind, I didn\'t know what awaited me at the end of this project. You are aware, a friend had said, that you are more and more withdrawing into yourself, and now that you have cut your relations with the university, your whole contact with the outside world will be mainly restricted to one room. Where will you go from here? he had asked. Withdrawal into one\'s dreams could be dangerous, I reflected, padding into the bedroom to change; this I had learned from Nabokov\'s crazy dreamers, like Kinbote and Humbert.

In selecting my students, I did not take into consideration their ideological or religious backgrounds. Later, I would count it as the class\'s great achievement that such a mixed group, with different and at times conflicting backgrounds, personal as well as religious and social, remained so loyal to its goals and ideals.

One reason for my choice of these particular girls was the peculiar mixture of fragility and courage I sensed in them. They were what you would call loners, who did not belong to any particular group or sect. I admired their ability to survive not despite but in some ways because of their solitary lives. We can call the class "a space of our own," Manna had suggested, a sort of communal version of Virginia Woolf\'s room of her own.

I spent longer than usual choosing my clothes that first morning, trying on different outfits, until I finally settled on a red-striped shirt and black corduroy jeans. I applied my makeup with care and put on bright red lipstick. As I fastened my small gold earrings, I suddenly panicked. What if it doesn\'t work? What if they won\'t come?

Don\'t, don\'t do that! Suspend all fears for the next five or six hours at least. Please, please, I pleaded with myself, putting on my shoes and going into the kitchen.

....

Looking back, I am amazed at how much we learned without even noticing it. We were, to borrow from Nabokov, to experience how the ordinary pebble of ordinary life could be transformed into a jewel through the magic eye of fiction.
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FT: TV poetry is epic success as Arabs return to roots

TV poetry is epic success as Arabs return to roots

By Roula Khalaf

Published: March 4 2008 02:00 | Last updated: March 4 2008 02:00

Poetry, more than other art forms that have sometimes been frowned on by the religious establishment, has long held a special power to enchant in the Arab world.

Although it remains popular, and is still published on newspapers' front pages, its pre-eminence has been diluted by the dizzying offerings of more modern entertainment.

Thanks to a hit show on Abu Dhabi television, however, poetry is not only back but is now also capturing the imagination of a younger generation.

Now in its second season, the Million's Poet show, loosely modelled on American Idol , is part of Abu Dhabi's attempt to use its oil surplus to enhance its cultural credentials.

The success of the show - it has spurred copycats, a television station that broadcasts only reruns and a slew of websites and blogs - has stunned even its creators.

"Everybody laughed at us when we said we were doing a poetry show because the media focuses on looks rather than substance, or it's political or musical," says Nashwa al-Ruwaini, head of Pyramedia, producer of the show. "But we won the bet - people found it brought them back to their roots."

Nabati, the tribal form of poetry featured in the competition, can sound harsh and incomprehensible even to Arabic speakers. But in a Gulf region swimming in oil wealth and importing everything from financial centres to world- class museums, Nabati represents a comforting return to the past.

Inundated with foreigners taking advantage of the United Arab Emirates' rapidly growing economy, Emirati society has also found in the revival of a traditional cultural form a welcome protection of national identity.

The number of people attending the show in an Abu Dhabi theatre quickly swelled from about 500 to more than 1,800 and hits on the website reached 11m within hours of its launch. Encouraged, the station commissioned a second poetry show - The Prince of Poets - giving a boost this time to classical Arab poetry and a rare regional platform for young poets.

Nabati poetry has remained an integral part of UAE culture but the Million's Poet show has widened its appeal and restored a special status to the poet. That the Abu Dhabi crown prince, Sheikh Mohammed bin Zayed al-Nayhan, regularly attends the show has only added to its popularity.

Winners may be invited by rulers of nearby states to recite poems. Ms Ruwaini says an Iraqi contestant, called to Saudi Arabia to be congratulated, was rewarded with the citizenship he had been desperately seeking.

"We grow very fast but we need to protect our culture," says Mohammed Khalaf al Mazrouei, director-general of the Abu Dhabi Authority for Culture and Heritage. "We brought back poetry, gave it life, gave it prestige."

Financially too, the show has been a success. Each episode costs Dh45m ($12m, €8.1m, £6.2m) to produce, which includes the winner's Dh1m prize but, says Mr Mazrouei, "all the major companies back it, with sponsorships and commercials".

Though jazzed up with star guests and dramatic music, the show remains firmly in line with local political custom. Audiences have a say - but not on their own: poets succeed only if they also win the votes of the five judges.

Although the show's producers say the poets can say what they like in the competition's first stage, praise for rulers and the region are recurrent topics. Poets are given the subjects for later stages, themes such as "love", "mother", "horse", "desert", "falcon".

Some of the five judges are tough but always respectful - and the participants would react badly to ridicule, says Ms Ruwaini. "Poets were the voice of the tribes, so you can't put them in a bad position because you'd be disrespectful towards the tribe - they're very touchy."

So touchy, in fact, that some were offended by the "bad" category they could be put into if they failed to please the audiences, forcing producers to come up with a more agreeable choice of "excellent", "good" or "medium".