As the director of the Jewish Museum London I was fascinated to read Religion in Museums: Global and Multidisciplinary Perspectives. We make it clear that we are a museum about Jews, but by no means just for Jews. Our temporary exhibitions cover many subjects, including the singer Amy Winehouse, football, ceramics, men’s fashion, the writer and illustrator Judith Kerr, the record industry, the artist RB Kitaj and, at the moment, Asterix the Gaul.
We also have two permanent displays – one tells the history of Jews in Britain and the other is the religion gallery. And it is the latter that poses the most tricky museological questions.
On the one hand, we have an internationally renowned designated collection of Judaica, comprising rare and valuable ritual objects. These were designed to be used in Jewish rituals, but it is difficult to display them and, at the same time, explain Jewish ritual. One problem is that a display of such treasures gives false messages.
For example, it gives the appearance that Jews use silver goblets to drink ritual wine, whereas a plastic beaker serves the same purpose. We have a world-class display of intricate silver and gold hanukiot – the many-branched candelabra used to celebrate the festival of lights called Hanukah. But, in reality, most Jewish families will often use a hanukia made by a child from bottle tops and hangers instead of the ornate ones we display.
Another problem is that as soon as an object is behind glass it no longer is the ritual object that needs to be used to give it a purpose. So we show an item as a ritual object but by displaying it in a vitrine, it ceases to be one.
We also have to contend with the plurality of Jews and Jewish practice. Each family will have its own, often peculiar, way of celebrating the sabbath and the festivals. So trying to tell a simple, unitary narrative becomes false and strangely devoid of the humour and emotion that suffuses everyday Jewish practice.
People come to the museum to learn about Jews and Judaism, and we have to find relevant and powerful ways to convey an incredibly complex and varied story.
Some of these issues are reflected in this scholarly book of essays. There is a powerful account of museum architecture by Gretchen Buggeln, in which she talks about how museums are created to be ritualised and semi-religious spaces. This is a current and contentious issue. Should our religion gallery be a semi-contemplative space or should it distance itself from a spiritual or synagogue layout? Or should it be a place for rational inquiry?
This book is a welcome addition to the museum library but it falls between two stools. It has a range of contributors whose essays vary in style and content; some are theoretical, with others more practical. Some of the pieces are academic in style and others are transcripts of interviews. It covers many museums and most countries, so cannot delve into any aspect in depth.
There is a lot to admire and spark interest in this anthology, but it suffers from favouring breadth over depth. Although a variety of issues are touched on, they are not properly examined, certainly not in a way that helps me make headway with the issues I face at the Jewish Museum London.
It also shies away from controversial topics such as the politics of religion. For example, the spectacular Museum of the Bible opened last year in Washington DC. It is funded by evangelical Christians and its public face has changed from its original proselytising aims and evolved to show a more pluralist and multi-faith perspective. However, behind the scenes I was informed that it still insists that its employees should be either married or celibate.
As an academic book, Religion in Museums poses interesting questions and introduces us to many fascinating museums and art collections. But it falls short as a guide to help and inform museum practice. I am still seeking a more profound and practical publication for that.
Abigail Morris is the director of the Jewish Museum London
We also have two permanent displays – one tells the history of Jews in Britain and the other is the religion gallery. And it is the latter that poses the most tricky museological questions.
On the one hand, we have an internationally renowned designated collection of Judaica, comprising rare and valuable ritual objects. These were designed to be used in Jewish rituals, but it is difficult to display them and, at the same time, explain Jewish ritual. One problem is that a display of such treasures gives false messages.
For example, it gives the appearance that Jews use silver goblets to drink ritual wine, whereas a plastic beaker serves the same purpose. We have a world-class display of intricate silver and gold hanukiot – the many-branched candelabra used to celebrate the festival of lights called Hanukah. But, in reality, most Jewish families will often use a hanukia made by a child from bottle tops and hangers instead of the ornate ones we display.
Another problem is that as soon as an object is behind glass it no longer is the ritual object that needs to be used to give it a purpose. So we show an item as a ritual object but by displaying it in a vitrine, it ceases to be one.
We also have to contend with the plurality of Jews and Jewish practice. Each family will have its own, often peculiar, way of celebrating the sabbath and the festivals. So trying to tell a simple, unitary narrative becomes false and strangely devoid of the humour and emotion that suffuses everyday Jewish practice.
People come to the museum to learn about Jews and Judaism, and we have to find relevant and powerful ways to convey an incredibly complex and varied story.
Some of these issues are reflected in this scholarly book of essays. There is a powerful account of museum architecture by Gretchen Buggeln, in which she talks about how museums are created to be ritualised and semi-religious spaces. This is a current and contentious issue. Should our religion gallery be a semi-contemplative space or should it distance itself from a spiritual or synagogue layout? Or should it be a place for rational inquiry?
This book is a welcome addition to the museum library but it falls between two stools. It has a range of contributors whose essays vary in style and content; some are theoretical, with others more practical. Some of the pieces are academic in style and others are transcripts of interviews. It covers many museums and most countries, so cannot delve into any aspect in depth.
There is a lot to admire and spark interest in this anthology, but it suffers from favouring breadth over depth. Although a variety of issues are touched on, they are not properly examined, certainly not in a way that helps me make headway with the issues I face at the Jewish Museum London.
It also shies away from controversial topics such as the politics of religion. For example, the spectacular Museum of the Bible opened last year in Washington DC. It is funded by evangelical Christians and its public face has changed from its original proselytising aims and evolved to show a more pluralist and multi-faith perspective. However, behind the scenes I was informed that it still insists that its employees should be either married or celibate.
As an academic book, Religion in Museums poses interesting questions and introduces us to many fascinating museums and art collections. But it falls short as a guide to help and inform museum practice. I am still seeking a more profound and practical publication for that.
Abigail Morris is the director of the Jewish Museum London
Edited by Gretchen Buggeln, Crispin Paine, S Brent Plate; Bloomsbury, £21.58; ISBN 978-1-474255530
