36 DESIGNER FILE
Pippa Nissen of Nissen Richards asks whether it’s time to reconsider the relationship between visitors and the objects on show in museums and galleries
ONE OF MY PERSISTENT frustrations in my role is the ugly paraphernalia museums and galleries use to keep people away from paintings and objects. Tere’s no global consensus on best practice around this. A stanchion favoured by one gallery is considered a trip hazard in another. A subtle textured tape or timber ledge disappears in some spaces but feels clumsy elsewhere and, in a different context, might be thought of as a health and safety issue. Beautiful, evocative sculptures are hidden behind glass or Perspex hoods, while hastily placed signs shout ‘Do not touch’ – all of it interrupting the intimacy between viewer and object or artwork. We’re currently working on a number of
projects in India, and, during a recent site visit to Kolkata, I was struck by a radically different
philosophy, which is one of return and impermanence. Skilled artisans spend months crafting detailed sculptures from bamboo, straw and clay that they collect from the river at the end of the road. Ten, during Durga Puja, these idols are immersed in the river or burned, completing a cycle of creation and dissolution. Te idea that objects live and die, returning to earth or water, felt deeply moving, especially given my life’s work preserving objects behind barriers. Nearby, a different tradition is evident: tea
is served in unfired terracotta cups, called bhar or kulhad, which are smashed and returned to the earth after use. Tese disposable, biodegradable vessels embody a profound acceptance of impermanence and connection to the natural cycle. Tey feel humble and fleeting, yet they carry an unexpected weight, evidence of a culture that knows how to let go. Tis philosophy was echoed in an exhibition called Te Human Touch: Making Art, Leaving Traces, which we designed for Te Fitzwilliam Museum during the pandemic. Te museum team explored objects and artworks around themes to do with touch, and our response was to look at how we could stimulate the senses in the ways in which they were displayed. We made films using macro lenses that revealed hidden sensory moments in the artworks – almost replacing touch with a visual experience. For example, exploring Rodin’s fingerprints, capturing the artist’s physical touch with almost forensic intimacy. Some religious statues bore centuries of human contact, worn smooth in places while untouched in others. We embraced these imperfections in the exhibition design itself, using crinkled text pasted on walls, rough timber construction, visible joins. Tese marks of time and craft became meaningful, not distractions. Tey were part of the story. Of course, it isn’t practical or responsible to leave priceless objects unprotected. Many have
Right Henry Moore’s Mother and Child, 1932, pictured being hugged at the Sainsbury Centre
Left Pippa Nissen
PHOTO: PAL HANSEN
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