Registrars are the museum workforce’s unsung heroes. This could be because the role is a relatively new one and much of the work happens behind the scenes. Or it might be that the position varies so widely in content that no uniform job description applies.
The fact is that museum registrars look after all the legal, logistical and ethical minutiae of collections management and movement. Often suspected of being unbending museum enforcers, they see themselves as the folk with the flexibility, attention to detail, tact and diplomacy that let everyone else do their jobs properly.
John Holt talks to some practitioners about what they do and why.
Nickos Gogolos
Head registrar, Victoria and Albert Museum, London
In his 18 years as a registrar, Nickos Gogolos has been kept on his toes professionally by artworks of all shapes and sizes, as well as an ever-changing legal landscape that regulates their safe-keeping.
“I have coordinated the transport of contemporary paintings valued at millions of pounds that, at lengths of more than 30 feet, were too large to fit in any lift and had to be craned off balconies and carried up static escalators,” he says. “I have also uninstalled a tiny fragile medieval scent bottle covered with precious stones, and carried it by hand through foreign airport security.”
On the global stage, Gogolos highlights the advocacy role that registrars played in the introduction of UK legislation granting immunity from seizure for items lent for exhibitions, as well as the recent US ban on the import and export of ivory artefacts.
In fact, the V&A’s international programmes sometimes make him feel like he is “working for the Foreign Office”. He adds that he has often felt the force of geopolitical events.“
After Russia’s annexation of Crimea in the spring of 2014 and the ensuing European sanctions, the V&A was scheduled to lend a group of objects to an Indian jewellery exhibition at Kremlin Museums Moscow,” Gogolos says.“My team had to demonstrate the best possible practice of risk management for the trustees to support the loan.”
Aisha Burtenshaw
Senior registrar and head of touring exhibitions, Ashmolean Museum of Art and Archaeology, University of Oxford
Aisha Burtenshaw’s department ensures that everything that passes through the Ashmolean’s venerated vestibules is properly packaged, rigorously risk-assessed and documented in detail.
“It can be a single coin arriving or 30 lenders coming in to install their hugely diverse objects for the autumn exhibition, with five or six of them requiring access to the same display case,” she says.
Burtenshaw sits on the museum’s exhibitions committee to spot potential pitfalls before they arise and acknowledges that col-leagues have learned to look for telltale signs of disapproval in her demeanour.
“In a recent meeting, one of the curators said, ‘Oh no, Aisha’s going pale so this is obviously not a good idea’. They appreciate that identifying difficulties from the outset means we can work as a team to overcome them and ease budgetary implications.”
The paperwork associated with method, risk and insurance can be less than thrilling, Burtenshaw admits. And it can be complicated by the bureaucracy that comes with being a university museum, the difficulty of prising provenance information from lenders and the challenge of explaining government indemnity to international institutions. As her job requires almost forensic fact-finding abilities, it’s perhaps just as well that Burtenshaw began training to be a solicitor before giving it up to study history.
“This is the perfect combination of two disciplines for me – legal work and hands-on antiquity,” she says.
Laura Walsh
Registrar and display technicians manager, Royal Armouries, Leeds
“I was doing my car insurance online the other day and on the drop-down menu of professions ‘curator’ was there, but ‘museum registrar’ wasn’t. Registrars are more than likely considered to be the folk who look after marriages and deaths or work in hospitals,” says Laura Walsh of her profession’s identity crisis.
She admits that even some of her col-leagues don’t understand what she does because the role is continually evolving. Her remit includes just about every aspect of col-lections governance, from policies, procedures and due diligence, to documentation and disposals, security and access.“
At Tate, there’s a registrar just for loans coming in,” she says, adding that the mantra around her office is along the lines of “allow me to drop everything so I can look at your problem”.
“When I or my team asks a question, we’ve noticed that it goes all around the houses, around the whole museum, before someone pops their head around the door to say, ‘Laura, what do you think of this?’ But I originally asked the question!”
Her colleagues should be careful not to take too many liberties; Walsh is responsible for some potentially deadly firepower.
“We’re the only UK museum that holds a registered firearms dealer’s licence covering prohibited weapons,” Walsh says. “We are allowed to trade, sell and dispose of them because our service agreement with the defence ministry and other bodies means we must have the most up-to-date weaponry to train new recruits.
“We have a shooting range, an explosives licence and live ammunition, plus we have to know firearms laws inside out. Going into our stores is like going through an airport. Everyone is vetted and a member of the public won’t get in here without a bona fide research proposal.”
All that, of course, has to be balanced with the need for access enshrined in the National Heritage Act. The ethical questions are something of a minefield.
“Our evaluation team does great work in deciding what we can show and what stories we can tell, some of which can be emotive,” says Walsh. “On the other hand, the conservation team has a field day when it comes to actually firing the objects.”
Away from the smell of nitroglycerin and curious curators, Walsh is working with the city’s university and local galleries on Registrars for the Future, a training scheme designed to make this very unique profession a viable job option for people looking to work in the sector.
“There are 100 applications each year and many people come along thinking that it might get them a foot in the door if nothing else...but then they realise what a wonderful and varied job it really is.”
Kathy Richmond
Registrar, Museum of London; chair, UK Registrars Group
While sometimes viewed as fussy administrators obsessed with enforcing rules and regulations, registrars often have enormous fun solving the problems that arise as other museum professionals go about their work, says Kathy Richmond.
“Anticipating the unknown unknowns makes this a creative job,” she says, adding that a recent online discussion revealed a few home truths about how other staff view the profession.
“Someone asked ‘what do other departments do that pisses you off’, which I thought was a telling point. Would someone have posed the same question to a curator or technician? There’s a perception that registrars are somehow policing collections, but I prefer to say that we’re facilitating their use in the correct way and making sure people don’t get themselves into trouble.
“People can see that as a negative thing but they should think of the registrar as their best friend. We often have to say ‘no, that’s not the right way to do that’ and suggest how something might be done in a different fashion. You have to deal with the fact that you often work with people who might not like what you tell them.”
Richmond originally caught the registrar bug when one of her early museum volunteering stints found her working on long-forgotten loan agreements.“I had thought there wouldn’t be any-thing new to learn but it was fantastic work – so many mysteries to solve about who left what and to whom. I was hooked. I’m sure there’s something in my genes about wanting to make things nice and neat.”
Katie Robson
Loans officer, National Museums Scotland, Edinburgh
“I used to work in NHS administration, and, although I didn’t know it at the time, it was a great training ground for the role of a registrar in a museum,” says Katie Robson.
“There are many similarities: in hospital, every patient has a file on a database, and now I monitor and maintain the condition of objects, ensuring that they are returned in good health.
“I used to type theatre lists for the surgeon, so attention to detail was absolutely crucial for things such as drug dosages. It’s the same thing for objects. Should you input information incorrectly or get a credit line wrong, there could be consequences in the future.”
It has been a particularly busy year at the National Museum of Scotland with the opening of 10 new galleries. Dolly the cloned sheep is now installed in a special rotating case that allows visitors in the new technology space to view her from a variety of angles. Before helping to arrange her home-coming, however, Robson had shepherded Dolly to a starring role in a genetics exhibition at the University of Edinburgh.
“After working out the best and safest way of getting her there, we made a new case, ensuring it was sealed and secure, adding a little something to keep humidity levels stable,” Robson says. “We also had to check she would not be affected by the lighting and the fresh coat of paint on the walls.”
Moving objects requires weeks of preparation, vital insurance instructions and some very particular transportation and environmental controls.
“We have an old, heavy postbox, and conversations about it range from how best to pack and display it, to how to discourage people from trying to post letters into it,” Robson says.
“After talking about objects for months, it’s exciting to see them finally unpacked and taken into quarantine. It’s a bit like opening Christmas presents.
Judith Finlay
Registrar, National Museum of Ireland, County Dublin
When she started work in the National Museum of Ireland’s documentation department on a short-term contract back in 1999, Judith Finlay discovered just as much about herself as she did about cultural sector small print.
“I wasn’t entirely sure what documentation meant in a museum context, but I found that I had the ability to organise, as well as a predisposition for problem solving,” she says.
“We had no idea whether any roles would become permanent but we started looking at standards, procedures and inventory projects across the four collections and we became a permanent fixture.”
Finlay now finds herself in charge of the new state-of-the-art Collections Resource Centre in Swords, County Dublin, which brings all the museum’s libraries and archives, as well as the country’s archaeology collection, under one roof for the first time.
“All archaeology found in Ireland has to come to the museum by law and we previously didn’t have the room to store it all,” says Finlay.
“Over the past four years, we have been approaching the private companies that held this archaeology for us and it is now all in one amazing space. This has led to an enormous response from researchers and students keen to see, for example, our human remains collection that has been made accessible for the first time.”
The new centre also runs internships, and Finlay keeps an eye open for individuals who, like herself all those years ago, dis-cover a latent aptitude for registration work.
“They are always the ones who go above and beyond to make sure things are perfect; the ones who get excited about the quality of boxes.”
The fact is that museum registrars look after all the legal, logistical and ethical minutiae of collections management and movement. Often suspected of being unbending museum enforcers, they see themselves as the folk with the flexibility, attention to detail, tact and diplomacy that let everyone else do their jobs properly.
John Holt talks to some practitioners about what they do and why.
Nickos Gogolos
Head registrar, Victoria and Albert Museum, London
In his 18 years as a registrar, Nickos Gogolos has been kept on his toes professionally by artworks of all shapes and sizes, as well as an ever-changing legal landscape that regulates their safe-keeping.
“I have coordinated the transport of contemporary paintings valued at millions of pounds that, at lengths of more than 30 feet, were too large to fit in any lift and had to be craned off balconies and carried up static escalators,” he says. “I have also uninstalled a tiny fragile medieval scent bottle covered with precious stones, and carried it by hand through foreign airport security.”
On the global stage, Gogolos highlights the advocacy role that registrars played in the introduction of UK legislation granting immunity from seizure for items lent for exhibitions, as well as the recent US ban on the import and export of ivory artefacts.
In fact, the V&A’s international programmes sometimes make him feel like he is “working for the Foreign Office”. He adds that he has often felt the force of geopolitical events.“
After Russia’s annexation of Crimea in the spring of 2014 and the ensuing European sanctions, the V&A was scheduled to lend a group of objects to an Indian jewellery exhibition at Kremlin Museums Moscow,” Gogolos says.“My team had to demonstrate the best possible practice of risk management for the trustees to support the loan.”
Aisha Burtenshaw
Senior registrar and head of touring exhibitions, Ashmolean Museum of Art and Archaeology, University of Oxford
Aisha Burtenshaw’s department ensures that everything that passes through the Ashmolean’s venerated vestibules is properly packaged, rigorously risk-assessed and documented in detail.
“It can be a single coin arriving or 30 lenders coming in to install their hugely diverse objects for the autumn exhibition, with five or six of them requiring access to the same display case,” she says.
Burtenshaw sits on the museum’s exhibitions committee to spot potential pitfalls before they arise and acknowledges that col-leagues have learned to look for telltale signs of disapproval in her demeanour.
“In a recent meeting, one of the curators said, ‘Oh no, Aisha’s going pale so this is obviously not a good idea’. They appreciate that identifying difficulties from the outset means we can work as a team to overcome them and ease budgetary implications.”
The paperwork associated with method, risk and insurance can be less than thrilling, Burtenshaw admits. And it can be complicated by the bureaucracy that comes with being a university museum, the difficulty of prising provenance information from lenders and the challenge of explaining government indemnity to international institutions. As her job requires almost forensic fact-finding abilities, it’s perhaps just as well that Burtenshaw began training to be a solicitor before giving it up to study history.
“This is the perfect combination of two disciplines for me – legal work and hands-on antiquity,” she says.
Laura Walsh
Registrar and display technicians manager, Royal Armouries, Leeds
“I was doing my car insurance online the other day and on the drop-down menu of professions ‘curator’ was there, but ‘museum registrar’ wasn’t. Registrars are more than likely considered to be the folk who look after marriages and deaths or work in hospitals,” says Laura Walsh of her profession’s identity crisis.
She admits that even some of her col-leagues don’t understand what she does because the role is continually evolving. Her remit includes just about every aspect of col-lections governance, from policies, procedures and due diligence, to documentation and disposals, security and access.“
At Tate, there’s a registrar just for loans coming in,” she says, adding that the mantra around her office is along the lines of “allow me to drop everything so I can look at your problem”.
“When I or my team asks a question, we’ve noticed that it goes all around the houses, around the whole museum, before someone pops their head around the door to say, ‘Laura, what do you think of this?’ But I originally asked the question!”
Her colleagues should be careful not to take too many liberties; Walsh is responsible for some potentially deadly firepower.
“We’re the only UK museum that holds a registered firearms dealer’s licence covering prohibited weapons,” Walsh says. “We are allowed to trade, sell and dispose of them because our service agreement with the defence ministry and other bodies means we must have the most up-to-date weaponry to train new recruits.
“We have a shooting range, an explosives licence and live ammunition, plus we have to know firearms laws inside out. Going into our stores is like going through an airport. Everyone is vetted and a member of the public won’t get in here without a bona fide research proposal.”
All that, of course, has to be balanced with the need for access enshrined in the National Heritage Act. The ethical questions are something of a minefield.
“Our evaluation team does great work in deciding what we can show and what stories we can tell, some of which can be emotive,” says Walsh. “On the other hand, the conservation team has a field day when it comes to actually firing the objects.”
Away from the smell of nitroglycerin and curious curators, Walsh is working with the city’s university and local galleries on Registrars for the Future, a training scheme designed to make this very unique profession a viable job option for people looking to work in the sector.
“There are 100 applications each year and many people come along thinking that it might get them a foot in the door if nothing else...but then they realise what a wonderful and varied job it really is.”
Registrars are more than likely considered to be the folk who look after marriages and deaths or work in hospitals”
Kathy Richmond
Registrar, Museum of London; chair, UK Registrars Group
While sometimes viewed as fussy administrators obsessed with enforcing rules and regulations, registrars often have enormous fun solving the problems that arise as other museum professionals go about their work, says Kathy Richmond.
“Anticipating the unknown unknowns makes this a creative job,” she says, adding that a recent online discussion revealed a few home truths about how other staff view the profession.
“Someone asked ‘what do other departments do that pisses you off’, which I thought was a telling point. Would someone have posed the same question to a curator or technician? There’s a perception that registrars are somehow policing collections, but I prefer to say that we’re facilitating their use in the correct way and making sure people don’t get themselves into trouble.
“People can see that as a negative thing but they should think of the registrar as their best friend. We often have to say ‘no, that’s not the right way to do that’ and suggest how something might be done in a different fashion. You have to deal with the fact that you often work with people who might not like what you tell them.”
Richmond originally caught the registrar bug when one of her early museum volunteering stints found her working on long-forgotten loan agreements.“I had thought there wouldn’t be any-thing new to learn but it was fantastic work – so many mysteries to solve about who left what and to whom. I was hooked. I’m sure there’s something in my genes about wanting to make things nice and neat.”
Katie Robson
Loans officer, National Museums Scotland, Edinburgh
“I used to work in NHS administration, and, although I didn’t know it at the time, it was a great training ground for the role of a registrar in a museum,” says Katie Robson.
“There are many similarities: in hospital, every patient has a file on a database, and now I monitor and maintain the condition of objects, ensuring that they are returned in good health.
“I used to type theatre lists for the surgeon, so attention to detail was absolutely crucial for things such as drug dosages. It’s the same thing for objects. Should you input information incorrectly or get a credit line wrong, there could be consequences in the future.”
It has been a particularly busy year at the National Museum of Scotland with the opening of 10 new galleries. Dolly the cloned sheep is now installed in a special rotating case that allows visitors in the new technology space to view her from a variety of angles. Before helping to arrange her home-coming, however, Robson had shepherded Dolly to a starring role in a genetics exhibition at the University of Edinburgh.
“After working out the best and safest way of getting her there, we made a new case, ensuring it was sealed and secure, adding a little something to keep humidity levels stable,” Robson says. “We also had to check she would not be affected by the lighting and the fresh coat of paint on the walls.”
Moving objects requires weeks of preparation, vital insurance instructions and some very particular transportation and environmental controls.
“We have an old, heavy postbox, and conversations about it range from how best to pack and display it, to how to discourage people from trying to post letters into it,” Robson says.
“After talking about objects for months, it’s exciting to see them finally unpacked and taken into quarantine. It’s a bit like opening Christmas presents.
Judith Finlay
Registrar, National Museum of Ireland, County Dublin
When she started work in the National Museum of Ireland’s documentation department on a short-term contract back in 1999, Judith Finlay discovered just as much about herself as she did about cultural sector small print.
“I wasn’t entirely sure what documentation meant in a museum context, but I found that I had the ability to organise, as well as a predisposition for problem solving,” she says.
“We had no idea whether any roles would become permanent but we started looking at standards, procedures and inventory projects across the four collections and we became a permanent fixture.”
Finlay now finds herself in charge of the new state-of-the-art Collections Resource Centre in Swords, County Dublin, which brings all the museum’s libraries and archives, as well as the country’s archaeology collection, under one roof for the first time.
“All archaeology found in Ireland has to come to the museum by law and we previously didn’t have the room to store it all,” says Finlay.
“Over the past four years, we have been approaching the private companies that held this archaeology for us and it is now all in one amazing space. This has led to an enormous response from researchers and students keen to see, for example, our human remains collection that has been made accessible for the first time.”
The new centre also runs internships, and Finlay keeps an eye open for individuals who, like herself all those years ago, dis-cover a latent aptitude for registration work.
“They are always the ones who go above and beyond to make sure things are perfect; the ones who get excited about the quality of boxes.”
