Column | Mienke Simon Thomas
Two years ago, I retired as curator of Design at Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen. First as ‘educational-curator’, from 2000 as senior-curator, I enjoyed almost every day of the 30 years I have been working there. Dealing with the collection, the contact with colleagues and other professionals all over the world, making exhibitions and writing texts, it gave me – besides stress – especially a lot of satisfaction.
Yet there was one aspect of my job that I continued to struggle with all these years. That concerned the acquisition of new work for the collection. Many people will not understand this: they might see this as the very best facet of a curator’s job. But for me, that was definitely not the case. The persistent doubt about what to do blocked me almost constantly. Why should I buy precisely that vase – bike, lamp, toothbrush – and not that other one? Or perhaps better: choose a spoon, a cupboard or a shaver? Who am I that my opinion on this should be decisive? Why should my, private judgments determine the character of the museum collection?
Of course, I had studied for it and could usually explain why I found that specific chair more beautiful or innovative than another. In other words, I was able to judge the quality of those chairs to a certain extent, but I was never one hundred percent convinced of myself. And besides: was another chair for the collection really that necessary?
One aspect of my uncertainty was not least the money involved in all these potential acquisitions. This also turned the doubt into a moral dilemma. What could not all be done with those thousands of euros, if not buying that vase?
Going to art and design fairs was a real torment for all these reasons; when stallholders approached me, I got palpitations. Visiting designers and collectors caused sleepless nights. Because, how on earth could I decide after leaving not to buy anything from that nice ceramicist, or to accept something from that friendly collector as a gift for the collection? Once, as a result of this trait, I was even accused of stealing the bread out of the mouths of contemporary potters with my reticence. This made me feel even more guilty and insecure.
Surely the museum has an acquisitions policy, you will no doubt reply. There must have been frameworks for expanding the collection established? Well, true, but at the same time those frameworks turned out to be very flexible and changeable. And easy to ignore. Anyone who reads my book Voortschrijdend inzicht, about the development of the design collection at Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, will quickly become convinced of this. Sometimes it almost seemed like a policy goal to circumvent the formulated guidelines as quickly and rigorously as possible. However, the fact that Boijmans is first and foremost an art museum and that therefore this characteristic should also be expressed in the design collection, remained untouched in the policy all those years. While, for me, design is definitely no art.
Of course, I thought about this dilemma a lot during my career at the museum in Rotterdam. For example, I once came up with the following – totally unfeasible – solution: couldn’t we buy a lot of products every year and then, after ten years, make a selection from our purchases of ten years ago? Everything that then, for whatever reason, still appears to be important or has made school as a design, stays in the collection, the rest we sell. I also once made – to illustrate my dilemma – a presentation of ten ‘masterpieces’ from the collection. Each object presented was a top piece for a different reason. One was very rare, another was very precious, a third one was made extremely delicate, while the fourth was the oldest of its kind. And of course I watched how colleagues in other museums proceeded. They did not seem to share my problem at all and could see at a glance whether something was a ‘good’ design or not. At least, that’s what they told me……
So as the years progressed, I really had to conclude that this part of my job was not in good hands with me. Was I incompetent? Was I too scared? Or was my distaste for new acquisitions growing precisely because I no longer wanted to contribute to the recording of a design history and – indirectly – a canon I did not fully support?
When it comes down to it, I prefer to ask questions and only study the products and how they were created. And I much prefer to create temporary exhibitions that deal with specific themes within design. And actually, I don’t really care whether the products I write about are beautiful, special or innovative. Indeed, a text is also a contribution to the history of design, but without fixing something on a shelf in the depot for eternity. And with more room for discussion, for new insights and more opportunities to fill blind spots and shift accents.
Therefore, I now experience a great freedom from having to justify my purchases: How wonderful that I can now also hang Ikea lamps at home and just keep using those comfortable but maligned Hartman garden chairs. Recently, I bought new coffee mugs at Blokker.
Photo Mienke Simon Thomas: Lotte Stekelenburg
