Museums spend a lot of time thinking about how to ask people for support. We spend far less time thinking about what happens after someone says yes.
Recently, I made a gift to President Lincoln’s Cottage in Washington, D.C., in support of Students Opposing Slavery, a project I have long admired. Within a short time, a small box arrived in the mail. Before I even opened it, the package already looked intentional: a Team Lincoln logo with a blue accent on a sturdy thin white box. What could this possibly contain?
Wedding photo taken at the Cincinnati Museum of Art. Credit: Sherri Barber Photography.
In the previous post in this series, I looked at visitor photography policies: whether visitors can take pictures, where they can take them, what equipment they can use, and how museums distinguish casual personal photography from behavior that disrupts the visitor experience. But there is another side to museum photography policies.
When photography moves beyond ordinary visitor memory-making, the questions become more complicated. A museum gallery, historic house, a picturesque barn, sculpture garden, or historic landscape can quickly become a backdrop for someone else’s project: a wedding shoot, fashion session, graduation portrait, influencer campaign, documentary film, news segment, advertisement, stock photography shoot, or corporate video. That shift changes the issue. The question is no longer simply, “Can I take a picture?” It becomes: who benefits from the image, what resources are being used, what risks are created, and how is the museum’s name, space, collection, or reputation being presented?
As with the earlier posts, this is not a scientific or comprehensive study. I reviewed a selection of commercial, media, and photography policies from museums and historic sites to identify patterns in current practice. I am not a lawyer, and this is not legal advice. Museums should consult an attorney when developing policies involving copyright, releases, insurance, contracts, filming agreements, or commercial use. My interest here is in how these policies reflect museum management, visitor experience, institutional risk, and revenue. Just a warning: this is a loooong post because of the complexity of this topic—and I’ll only be touching the surface.
From Visitor Photography to Site Use
The most useful distinction is between photographing a museum and using a museum as a setting. A visitor photographing a child in a gallery, a favorite object, a historic room, or a garden path is usually documenting a visit. A photographer staging an engagement session, fashion shoot, commercial, product video, or sponsored social media post is using the museum as a resource. Those are different activities. They require different policies.
Sign at the entrance to the Albuquerque Museum in New Mexico.
What Museum Photography Policies Reveal About Visitor Experiences
While examining visitor codes of conduct, I started noticing another kind of museum policy that is becoming more visible: photography policies. They appear on websites, ticketing pages, “Know Before You Go” guides, and signs in galleries, historic houses, gardens, and exhibitions. Like codes of conduct, photography policies have always existed in some form, but they now seem more detailed, more prominent, and more complicated.
At first glance, the question seems simple: can visitors take pictures? But museum photography policies reveal that this is no longer a yes-or-no issue. The better question is: what kind of photography, by whom, for what purpose, in what space, and with what effect on collections, staff, visitors, and the experience?
To explore this question, I reviewed photography rules embedded in dozens of visitor codes of conduct and visitor policy pages from museums and historic sites. This was not a scientific or comprehensive study. It was an initial scan of current practice to identify common patterns and management issues. I am not offering legal advice here; museums should consult an attorney on copyright, releases, privacy, and commercial use. My interest is in how these policies shape visitor experience and staff decision-making.
The broad trend is clear: casual, personal photography is increasingly welcomed, but excessive equipment and disruptive, staged, or commercial photography is increasingly controlled.
Screenshot from “The Clip Economy is Eating Everything” by the Atlantic.
I was recently listening to a podcast from The Atlantic—“The Clip Economy is Eating Everything”—where Charlie Wartsall interviews business writer Ed Elson about the rise of short-form video. Their argument is straightforward: the dominant unit of media is no longer the article, the podcast, or even the YouTube video. It’s the clip.
That stuck with me and I’m uncomfortable.
Much of what rises to the top in this “clip economy” is not especially thoughtful or constructive. And yet, it’s how many people are now consuming information—not through television, books, newspapers, museums, or even longer-form digital content, but through YouTube Shorts, Instagram, and TikTok. Whether we like it or not, this is the environment our audiences are living in.
While I’ve been producing content for this blog for more than fifteen years, a few years ago I began producing YouTube videos. Based on research on the attention span of viewers, I aimed for a six-minute length but yikes, those take me days to produce. I don’t do it frequently so editing is slow, narration has to be re-recorded when I inevitably trip over a sentence, and assembling images into something coherent takes real effort.
Membership levels for The Cultivist start at $440 per year and by invitation, you can join at the $15,000 level.
A few weeks ago I came across The Cultivist, a private membership program that promises art lovers “insider access” to the global art world. The club offers members free or priority admission to dozens of museums, invitations to special events, tailored trips to art fairs and biennials, and behind-the-scenes experiences with artists, collectors, and curators.
At first glance, I was skeptical. Is this simply the commodification of art and culture for wealthy travelers?
Perhaps. But it’s also worth taking a closer look, because The Cultivist reveals something important about how cultural tourists and heritage travelers—especially affluent ones—may want to experience museums and historic sites.
The organization was founded by Marlies Verhoeven and Daisy Peat, both of whom previously worked at Sotheby’s developing VIP loyalty programs for collectors. Their backgrounds are not in museums, curatorial practice, art history, or education. Instead, they specialize in relationship marketing, high-net-worth client services, and luxury experiences. That background explains the business model perfectly.
The Cultivist is not a museum membership program in the traditional sense. It is closer to a global concierge service for the art world. Members pay an annual fee starting at $440 to access a network of museums, exhibitions, artists’ studios, and art fairs, combined with customized travel and social events. Participating US museums include the Museum of Fine Arts Boston, Art Institute of Chicago, Museum of Modern Art, Jewish Museum NY, and the Huntington Library. In effect, the organization packages the art world into a kind of cultural lifestyle club.
From one perspective, this can feel uncomfortable. Museums have historically framed themselves as institutions devoted to public education, access, and engagement that contribute to society. A private club that sells privileged access to museums risks reinforcing the perception that the arts are primarily a playground for wealthy insiders. But before dismissing the model entirely, it’s worth asking why a service like this exists—and why it appears to be successful.
When I was chatting with John Wetenhall, director of the GW Museum, he mentioned a business analysis tool I had never heard of: VRIO. It was a surprisingly lively conversation about whether this corporate framework could apply to museums and historic sites—and it piqued my curiosity. Developed by Birger Wernerfelt in his landmark 1984 article “A Resource-Based View of the Firm,” and later refined by Jay Barney in “Firm Resources and Sustained Competitive Advantage” (1991), VRIO offers a way to evaluate whether an organization’s internal assets truly contribute to long-term success. The acronym stands for Value (does it help the organization exploit opportunities or neutralize threats?), Rarity (is it scarce among competitors?), Imitability (is it difficult to duplicate or substitute?), and Organization (is the organization structured to fully leverage it?).
What began as a theoretical framework for corporations turns out to have practical potential for cultural institutions as well. Tools like logic models and Porter’s Five Forces are helpful, but what about the museum’s internal capabilities? How do we know if our collections, staff, or community ties are truly strategic advantages? Two articles by Paul Knott at the University of Christ Church (New Zealand) offer guidance by critically examining the popular VRIO framework—and how it can work better for cultural institutions.
Insight #1: Strengthening Strategy with an Expanded VRIO Model
In “Integrating Resource-Based Theory in a Practice-Relevant Form” (2009), Knott builds on the traditional VRIO model—Value, Rarity, Imitability, Organization—to create a more actionable and dynamic approach. He emphasizes that internal resources (like a museum’s brand, reputation, or community partnerships) are only strategic if they are used under the right conditions. Critically, he introduces a matrix that shows how the same resource can be a strength, weakness, missed opportunity, or rigidity depending on how it’s managed. This is a significant improvement over the traditional SWOT exercise because it requires you to evaluate each asset or resource with specific questions.
Imagine walking into a museum for the first time. The sunlight filters through glass atriums, the smell of polished wood and history greets you, and the quiet hum of curiosity fills the air. For some, this is an everyday experience. For others, it’s a world they’ve never dared to enter. Free admission promises to change that, throwing open the doors to anyone, regardless of their pocketbook. But does it really work? I scanned the journals to see what researchers had discovered.
What Free Admission Gets Right
Let’s face it—free admission has a magnetic pull. People are more likely to take a chance when the price barrier vanishes. Lin (2008) notes that museums offering free access often see surges in attendance. Suddenly, a day at the museum isn’t competing with groceries or a new pair of shoes—it’s a possibility.
In France, Gall-Ely et al. (2007) found that free admission felt like a gift. Visitors talked about how it gave them permission to explore without guilt or second-guessing. Think of it as a universal invitation: “Come in, look around. This is your space, too.” Similarly, Barbosa and Brito (2012) found that open-day events broke the ice, especially for hesitant first-timers. Those who’d never considered a museum visit were finally stepping inside.
The Burwell-Morgan Mill in Berryville, Virginia, which hosts the Art in the Mill shows in fall and spring.
On a recent road trip through the Shenandoah Valley, we passed through the small but charming village of Millwood (south of Berryville, Virginia). With its historic church, a corner gas station turned into a post office, a hip country store, and an 18th-century stone grist mill, it feels like you’ve stepped back into mid-century America. The mill, dating back to the 1780s, ceased operations in 1943, but thankfully the Clarke County Historical Association (CCHA) stepped in to preserve this important piece of local history. They restored and reopened the mill as a museum, offering milling demonstrations that continue to connect the community with its past—a business that, while no longer economically viable, resonates deeply with those of us who value local landmarks.
Fast forward 80 years, and the CCHA not only continues to produce flour at the mill but has expanded its offerings in creative and impactful ways for a county with 15,000 residents. Today, their mission—”to help preserve the historic resources and records of Clarke County and to foster their use, understanding, and enjoyment through stewardship and education”—may sound familiar, but their approach is anything but ordinary. Their programming stands out as a model for how historical societies can evolve, attract diverse audiences, and ensure long-term sustainability. Here’s a preview of some of the exciting events and initiatives they have planned for this fall:
I’m excited to announce that I’ll be co-teaching two Reimagining the Historic House Museum workshops in Texas this November with Ken Turino, hosted by the American Association for State and Local History in collaboration with the Texas Historical Commission. It’s a big state, so we’re offering it twice! If you’re a museum professional, volunteer, or student interested in exploring fresh strategies for engaging visitors and revitalizing historic house museums, these workshops are a great opportunity to explore new ideas and connect with colleagues.
Why Attend?
Historic house museums are at a pivotal moment, navigating changes in visitor expectations, community needs, and funding models. These workshops are designed to help you tackle these challenges, offering practical solutions for making your house museum more accessible, sustainable, and relevant. By focusing on innovative interpretation, strategic planning, and community engagement, you’ll be empowered to breathe new life into your historic house museum.
What You’ll Learn
This one-day, hands-on workshop explores the most pressing challenges and rewarding opportunities facing historic sites in America today. We’ll delve into the latest social and economic research to help you identify how these trends impact your own house museum, sparking new ideas for growth and engagement.
Throughout the day, we’ll introduce a variety of field-tested tools and techniques drawn from diverse areas like non-profit management, business strategy, and even software development. You’ll hear about innovative historic sites that are successfully adopting new models to engage their communities, offering fresh interpretation and programming, and generating income to boost financial sustainability.
A key highlight of the workshop is our facilitated brainstorming session based on Michael Porter’s Five Forces framework, where you’ll work with fellow participants to reinvent an event or program for an actual house museum. This practical exercise not only puts theory into action but also showcases the power of collaborative thinking to drive change.
Details and Registration
Mesquite Workshop (near Dallas): November 12, 2024 – Heritage Plaza Visitor Center
Houston Workshop: November 14, 2024 – Bayou Bend Collection and Gardens
Cost: $350 for non-members, $225 for AASLH members
Registration: Visit AASLH’s website for more information and to sign up. Participation is limited.
I hope to see you there as we explore how to bring new life and relevance to historic house museums. Together, let’s make these vital cultural spaces vibrant, engaging, and sustainable for generations to come!
In the world of small museums, location and audience significantly influence expenses, rendering a one-size-fits-all approach ineffective. However, gaining insight into the various types of expenses museums incur can shed light on common challenges and their causes. The non-profit financial Form 990 categorizes expenses into five areas, providing a framework for understanding spending patterns. Our goal is to simplify the concept of museum spending and guide museums toward prudent budget management by exploring these key expense categories.
Engaging Places 