In museums, “Do Not Touch” signs are ubiquitous. Yet, often in spite of signs, rails, or security guards, many museum visitors still impulsively reach for the object in front of them. After all, how much harm can you do with one gentle brush of your fingertips?
Quite a lot, as it turns out. Even if your hands are clean, the natural oils in your fingers are still there. Many small touches can accumulate into a mountain of damage. For instance, while many people might assume that metal objects are nice and sturdy, even gentle touching can destroy the surface patina on a bronze sculpture. Once the surface patina is rubbed off, it is almost impossible to restore the original color.
We have a great example here at the Buffalo Bill Historical Center of an object that has been permanently changed by visitors touching the surface. Bob Scriver’s sculpture Buffalo Bill – Plainsman stands in front of our museum entrance, and every single visitor walks past the piece on their way in the door.
From thousands of accumulated touches, the original patina on Buffalo Bill’s rifle has been almost entirely rubbed off. You can even see where hundreds of hands have held the trigger on the rifle, causing one particularly shiny patch on the sculpture.
For other types of materials, touching can gradually add oil, dirt, and abbraisions to the surface of an object. Museums use many different measures to discourage visitors from touching objects on display–including signs, rails, motion sensor alarms, or security guards. What problems does your instituion face from visitors touching the exhibits? What are some of the measures your institution takes to prevent visitors from touching objects on display?
Hey Laura!
There are a couple things that I get a kick out of with regards to helping visitors not touch works of art.
Where I work, we have a Deborah Butterfield sculpture (this one: http://museum.stanford.edu/images/usr/2008.46_Butterfield_DB-thum.jpg) in our main lobby.
As it is the only – and first – sculpture that anyone sees, people naturally spend time looking at it. While the label shares that it is bronze, this also invites the curious to test the feeling for themselves. Instead, we’ve set up a fragment piece that looks just like a piece of Deb’s horse for people to touch. So visitors can get the experience of what it feels like without damaging the original. (And also see how touching has degraded the hands-on piece too.)
The second, and unplanned example that I get a kick out of, is that in each of our elevators we discuss why touching is harmful in a nice way. Every once in a while, the word “touching” is underlined or decorated in pencil.
So I think our first step is educating why it is rough on the pieces, offer alternatives, think about alternative installation if it really is an issue, and then, you know, police it.
This might be of interest: http://cantorscience.wordpress.com/