Rare book nerds, this post is for you. During a recent research visit to the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington, DC, I came across an ingenious book cradle designed in-house by the paper conservators. It’s a simple yet sophisticated solution for supporting large or heavy bound volumes without stressing their spines—especially helpful for researchers working with oversized books in the reading room.
At first glance, it looks like a typical cradle, but it’s fully adjustable. Two triangular supports, covered in blue buckram cloth, can be moved farther apart or adjusted to change the angle, accommodating the size and shape of the book. Weights help stabilize the book on the cradle, while a brown felt mat underneath provides friction to prevent the supports from sliding.
In today’s fast-moving, attention-fragmented world, museums are under pressure to do more than just deliver content–they need to make it stick. Whether it’s an online program, a guided tour, or an immersive performance, professionals are increasingly asking: How do we create experiences that matter? Three recent studies point to a clear answer: if you want to deepen impact, design for reflection.
Reflection Creates Meaningful Museum Visits
A recent study by Pieter de Rooij and colleagues at the Dutch Open Air Museum in Arnhem investigated what factors contribute to a memorable, meaningful, or transformative museum experience. Using surveys from over 500 visitors, they found that reflection was the strongest predictor of all three outcomes, while sociability and joy had a smaller yet significant effect. Visitors who were prompted to think about new ideas or connect the experience to their own lives were significantly more likely to report lasting impact.
Interestingly, traditional design features—such as beautiful displays, freedom to roam, or relaxing environments—were not strong predictors of impact. While those elements may support comfort and enjoyment, they don’t on their own foster deeper engagement.
If you’re looking to expand your bookshelf this summer, now’s a great time to explore the Interpreting History series from the American Association for State and Local History (AASLH). Bloomsbury is currently offering 10–15% off the entire series—an excellent opportunity to add fresh perspectives on interpretation to your library.
Among them is my newest title, Interpreting Christmas, co-authored with Ken Turino. We examine how museums and historic sites can thoughtfully interpret winter holidays in ways that are inclusive, community-centered, and grounded in historical research. If you’ve ever struggled with how (or whether) to “do” Christmas at your site, this book offers a framework—and lots of practical examples.
Even better: AASLH members always receive 20% off all titles in the series, including those not currently on sale. If you’re not already a member, it’s a great time to join.
Of course, most of us don’t write museum books for the royalties (we know we’re not Nora Ephron—or even Nora Roberts). The real reward is seeing our work spark ideas, inspire change, and shape the way history is shared with the public. So whether you’re an interpreter, educator, or site manager, pick up a volume or two—and join the conversation.
Ask any museum professional about barriers to participation, and you’re likely to hear about time, cost, or location. But two recent studies suggest the real obstacles may be more subtle—and more solvable. Whether your museum operates online, outdoors, or in a traditional building, one persistent challenge remains: many potential visitors don’t know what you offer or don’t believe it’s for them.
Non-Visitors Aren’t Uninterested—They’re Unaware or Uncertain
Wilcox et al. studied visitation patterns at two urban National Park Service sites in Washington, DC: Rock Creek Park and the C&O Canal. They surveyed both visitors and non-visitors during the pandemic and found that the most common constraint for non-visitors wasn’t disinterest—it was lack of awareness. Many simply didn’t know what the parks offered, where they were located, or whether they were open to the public.
Over the past year, the National Gallery of Art has begun experimenting with how it presents art in the West Building—the museum’s original home, long known for its restrained elegance and traditional installations. While the building remains largely unchanged since it opened in the 1940s, these recent “interventions” offer a glimpse into how the museum is rethinking its interpretive and design strategies as it prepares for a broader transformation.
In a previous post, I discussed the National Gallery’s process of reimagining its West Building. Now we’re seeing that process move from discussion to experimentation. Here are three interventions currently on view, each testing new ways to engage visitors and reframe the collection:
1. Nature and Objects in Dutch Landscapes
In the 17th-century Dutch landscape paintings gallery, two display cases offer a fresh angle on how nature shapes artistic imagination. One features three European decorative objects—a silver footed bowl, an elaborate stemmed glass, and a nautilus shell mounted on a gilt stand—designed to echo the forms and themes found in nearby paintings. The other case introduces a striking contemporary counterpart: Small Crafts on Sisyphean Seas by Dario Robleto, a mixed-media work combining natural materials like seashells, coral, urchin spines, and nautilus shells. These subtle interventions ask visitors to consider how objects, both functional and fantastic, reflect the human impulse to capture the natural world.
The National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC has quietly launched an ambitious reimagining of its original West Building, a structure completed in the early 1940s and long known for its grand architecture and displays of masterpieces. For generations, galleries have been organized by geography and time period, with paintings neatly arranged on walls in a format familiar—and comforting—to many visitors. But as expectations change and audiences diversify, the NGA is reconsidering what a national art museum can and should be in the 21st century.
Project Goals: From Comfort to Connection
The West Building Reimagining Project is driven by a compelling vision: to make visible the profound links between art and our shared humanity. The project seeks to move beyond static displays and conventional categorizations to create exhibitions that are more resonant, inviting, and engaging—especially for multi-generational families and first-time visitors. The team aims to evoke a broader range of responses, from curiosity to awe, while incorporating a wider variety of objects and histories than traditionally seen in the West Building.
Listening, Learning, and Prototyping
The project began in earnest in 2023 with a series of listening sessions involving both staff and visitors. One key insight quickly emerged: diversity—of objects, perspectives, and people—matters. Since then, the Gallery has taken a human-centered design approach, engaging more than 100 participants across departments and partnering with faculty from the Corcoran School of Art at George Washington University (including me!).
Subcommittees were formed in 2024 to tackle specific challenges, and in 2025 the focus has shifted to testing experimental display strategies. These prototypes will be refined throughout the year, with recommendations to the NGA’s president and CEO slated for 2026. The process is intentionally iterative, emphasizing learning and responsiveness over rigid outcomes.
Back in 2014, I shared a classic business matrix as a tool to help museums and historic sites think more strategically about their programs and activities. It plotted mission alignment on one axis and financial sustainability on the other, providing a quick visual way to categorize whether something was worth continuing, needed revision, or should be reconsidered altogether, using metaphors of stars, hearts, cash cows, and bunnies.
The response was strong—many found it useful for internal discussions, staff retreats, and board meetings. But since then, my thinking has evolved.
Over the last decade, I’ve come to see that we need a broader lens. It’s not enough to think about money and mission alone. Sustainability today must account for more than just dollars, and impact is shaped not only by mission statements, but also by vision and values.
A Matrix for Today
Here’s the updated version:
The vertical axis is now Impact, encompassing not just your mission but also your vision and values—your full organizational purpose.
The horizontal axis is now Sustainability, which considers financial, social, and environmental dimensions.
This updated Impact-Sustainability Matrix helps museum professionals assess whether a program or initiative is aligned with what matters most and whether it can endure in a resource-constrained world.
A Living Metaphor: From Bloom to Root
To make the matrix easier to understand and more memorable, I’m using a botanical metaphor. Every program or initiative can be thought of as a kind of plant—some deeply rooted and thriving, others beautiful but short-lived, and a few that are sadly distractions. I’m not sure if the metaphor is as clear and apt as my previous star/heart/cash cow/bunny matrix, so I’d love your thoughts and suggestions in the comments below.
Below are descriptions of each quadrant using this metaphor:
Fundraising from members has never been more critical. With the elimination of federal grants from agencies like IMLS and NEH, many museums and historic sites are facing serious gaps in funding. So where do you turn for help?
What if you borrowed a playbook from one of the most successful (and controversial) fundraising machines in the country?
Imagine hiring the same team that writes the direct mail letters for Judicial Watch—the political juggernaut that’s raised millions from everyday Americans, including, I should note, my own mom. Their formula? Urgency, clarity, conviction—and a whole lot of bolded phrases.
So, what would a museum fundraising letter sound like in their hands?
Here’s what GPT came up with when I asked it to write a high-energy, parody-style appeal for the Juan Motime House, an imaginary small historic house museum in Southern California:
The winter holidays are some of the most beloved and heavily attended times of year for museums and historic sites—but interpreting them can be a challenge. Whose stories are told? What traditions are represented? How can we ensure our programs are welcoming, accurate, and relevant to our communities?
If you’ve been asking these questions, join me at an upcoming webinar hosted by the American Association for State and Local History (AASLH):
“Interpreting Winter Holidays with Your Community”
I’ll be speaking alongside Ken Turino, Martha Katz-Hyman, and Morgan Lloyd, each of whom brings experience and insights into crafting more inclusive, community-centered holiday programs. We’ll explore ways that museums and historic sites can move beyond nostalgic or monolithic narratives and instead embrace a richer variety of traditions and histories—from Hanukkah to Kwanzaa, from secular seasonal festivals to the complexities of Christmas. Whether you’re revamping long-standing programs or launching something new, this session will offer fresh ideas, examples, and practical steps for engaging your community during the holiday season.
In my portion of the webinar, I’ll share strategies for refreshing an existing Christmas event by incorporating research on state and local history, helping organizations better connect with their communities and interpret traditions in a meaningful context.
The webinar is inspired in part by the recent bookInterpreting Christmas at Museums and Historic Sites, which Ken and I co-edited and which features contributions from many practitioners grappling with these same questions. As a bonus, webinar attendees will receive a 30% discount on the book.
The museum field has always been a challenging place for job seekers. Even in the best of times, there are often more talented people than positions available, and salaries tend to lag behind comparable roles in business or government. But with the recent elimination of federal funding through IMLS and NEH, and with looming threats of layoffs at the Smithsonian Institution, National Park Service, and National Gallery of Art, the situation is becoming even more precarious. I’m deeply concerned about what lies ahead for our field, not just for those losing jobs, but for the ripple effects on institutions, communities, and careers.
Fifteen years ago, I faced a similar moment when the National Trust for Historic Preservation laid off about a third of its staff. I was fortunate: I had a generous severance package and a consulting project waiting (thank you, Jim Vaughan!). But not everyone will be so lucky this time. In that difficult season, a few books proved invaluable to me, and I strongly recommend them to anyone now facing an unexpected job search:
Engaging Places 