Interpreting Heritage

A Guide to Planning and Practice

Steve Slack

• Verlag: Routledge
• Jahr: 2020
• ISBN:
  9781000209839
• Auflage: 1
• Thema: Arte
• Thema: Museología

Interpreting Heritage is a practical book about the planning and delivery of interpretation that will give anyone working in the heritage sector the confidence and tools they need to undertake interpretation.

Steve Slack suggests a broad formula for how interpretation can be planned and executed and describes some of the most popular – and potentially challenging, or provocative – forms of interpretation. Slack also provides practical guidance about how to deliver different forms of interpretation, while avoiding potential pitfalls. Exploring some of the ethical questions that arise when presenting information to the public and offering a grounding in some of the theory that underpins interpretive work, the book will be suitable for those who are completely new to interpretation. Those who already have some experience will benefit from tools, advice and ideas to help build on their existing practice.

Drawing upon the author's professional experiences of working within, and for, the heritage sector, Interpreting Heritage provides advice and suggestions that will be essential for practitioners working in museums, art galleries, libraries, archives, outdoor sites, science centres, castles, stately homes and other heritage venues around the world. It will also be of interest to students of museum and heritage studies who want to know more about how heritage interpretation works in practice.

1What is interpretation?

I am not the first person to ask this question. Indeed, many books about interpretation start with a definition, or at least an attempt at one. The majority of these opening chapters tend to leave the reader still wondering what interpretation might be. How apt that interpreters, equipped with the skillset for making things make sense – for boiling down the message, for finding the clarity out of the confusion – seemingly find it difficult to agree on a simple turn of phrase to define the very thing that we do on a daily basis. I am quite happy not to have too firm a definition of interpretation. Instead, here I will present some ideas about what interpretation might be and then I’ll leave you to make up your own mind. That said, if we are going to work with colleagues across the heritage sector on interpretive projects, it would make sense to find at least some common ground – some language, terminology and frameworks that we share.

Perhaps the most rudimentary idea that comes up when thinking about heritage interpretation is the transfer of knowledge from a heritage institution (say, a museum, archive, library, art gallery, castle and so on) to an audience with the aim of helping them have access to, even understand, the heritage that’s there. For some, interpretation is an exposition of the facts that we know about the heritage assets we hold. A sign in the ground to tell you what tree this is. A translation of what that Roman inscription on the wall says. A label next to a painting with the title and the artist’s name and dates.

Yes, these are all interpretation in its simplest form.

But to anyone who cares about audiences and their experiences, this approach to interpretation can sound somewhat didactic. Is our role just to impart information? If people leave our heritage sites simply with some more facts in their brains than they arrived with, have we, as interpreters, done our job properly? Plenty of interpreters today would argue there’s got to be more to interpretation than imparting information. While interpretation is so often concerned with the transfer of knowledge between the heritage institution and the visitor, our job is not merely signposting or labelling heritage assets.

So aside from giving people facts about heritage, what else can interpretation do?

One of the simplest things interpretation does is to create connections between visitors and heritage – or between heritage and visitors, if you like. Sometimes that’s an intellectual connection, but it could also be a personal, emotional or artistic connection, in fact any kind of connection you care to think of. It can bring a sense of meaning or understanding to our heritage that goes way beyond simply factual learning. It can shed light on previously unexplored areas and take visitors on unexpected journeys.

Interpretation can grab visitors’ attention. The way in which we choose to present our interpretive content doesn’t need to be unappealing – in fact it should be exciting at times. Interpretation can attract people, engage them, hook them and draw them towards us and the heritage assets we care about.

Our interpretation provokes and stimulates visitors. The stories we tell, and the way in which we tell them, can put people’s minds and hearts to work, setting off chain reactions within them that surprise and delight. Interpretation causes change within our visitors. Perhaps these are only small changes, perhaps only a little at a time, but somehow people who have engaged with the interpretation we offer up to them may have had some change take place inside them.

These kinds of outcomes are, for me, what interpretation is all about. If we entertain the potential that visitors can take something away with them more than just a list of facts about the heritage asset in front of them, then the field of heritage interpretation seems filled with exciting possibilities. For me, this kind of description about what interpretation can do is more important than agreeing a definition of what it actually is.

Interpretation is, quite rightly, often focussed on visitors and the impact it can have on them. But I believe it’s worth recognising what interpretation can do for us in the heritage sector, too. For many, the act of creating interpretation is a joyous one and I sincerely hope your interpretive endeavours bring you joy. Interpretation brings us together into a collaborative process. It can remind us of our core values, personally and institutionally, and give us a sense of pride in what we do. It reminds us also of the importance of audiences – the visitors who come to experience our interpretive offerings, millions of them globally every year. Sometimes, the interpretive process can also help us to unlock solutions to other non-interpretive problems our organisations may be facing. I’ve seen first-hand how a strong interpretive rationale has helped to contribute to the solution of issues with collection storage, environmental sustainability, staff wellbeing and communication strategies. In a time of change, the possibilities of what interpretation can offer us as a sector are growing all the time. Ask not only what you can do for interpretation, but what interpretation can do for you.

Interpretation planning

The majority of interpretation theories acknowledge that while the goal of interpretive work is often an endpoint – say, something that we show or give to a visitor in a heritage site – the actual act of creating interpretation is a process. It’s known as interpretation planning and the various steps we use to do it can, I’m afraid, seem a little dry when described in the abstract. For interpretation planners, the theoretical interpretive philosophy is often as stimulating as the practical work of writing captions and leading guided tours, but this isn’t the place to dwell on that. This is a practical book that seeks to walk you through the process towards a solid interpretation plan (Chapter 3).

Readers may be pleased to know that there are very few ‘rules’ of interpretation. While this book may suggest some ways of working to you, nobody is going to check on you if you haven’t done it ‘correctly’. For those of us working in interpretation, this is part of the joy of the work we do – that we can choose to work how we like, shifting some of our practices and processes from project to project, depending on what’s necessary. So, if you do find any rules in the pages of this book, you have my permission to break them, especially if you strongly disagree.

A brief history of modern interpretation

It could be argued that heritage interpretation has taken place as long as people have understood a concept of heritage – and consequently told each other stories about it. The very earliest human storytelling or mark-making could be seen as interpretations of the world around us and the meaning we made of it. So too could the opening and sharing of Renaissance cabinets of curiosities for the entertainment of associates and colleagues. But this present narrative leaves these early examples to museum and heritage historians.

Founding fathers?

It would be problematic to suggest that there was one person responsible for the birth of modern heritage interpretation, but it would be fair to say that the origins of what we now call interpretation lie in the USA.

The naturalist and writer John Muir (1838–1914) took great delight in the natural world he saw around him and wanted to encourage a similar sense of wonder and appreciation in others. As a preservation activist he was one of the architects of the US National Parks Service, in part for the conservation and preservation of America’s natural beauty, but also to create spaces where people could commune with nature. For the landscape to be understood and appreciated he believed it needed to be shared and explained and he was one of the first people to use the word interpretation in relation to the process of talking about nature to the others.

Muir’s friend Enos Mills (1870–1922) was another naturalist and nature writer who took delight at being in the American outdoors. And like Muir, he also wanted to share that enthusiasm for the natural world with the American people. Mills was an experienced mountain guide, especially at Long’s Peak in Colorado, and through the process of repeatedly taking people into the landscape, he established some of the standards of leading a guided walk, much of which still inform interpretive thinking today.

Reading his The Adventures of a Nature Guide (1920) today I am struck not only by his understanding of the natural world, but also his fondness for spending time in the presence of nature. His ‘adventures’ of guiding really do sound adventurous and make for compelling reading. His writings recall not only tales of taking people into the mountains on guided walks, but also their reactions to what he showed them. That observation not only of nature itself, but also of the interaction participants have with it, was a key driver for his early interpretive practice.

From these experiences Muir lays down some recommendation to the aspiring guide – to engage visitors’ brains as well as their hearts; to use questions as part of their trail; to make use of specimens as visual aids and to use physicality and humour as part of storytelling. He also suggests that the best guides are of a certain temperament – relatable, adaptable, approachable, vigilant and well-read, but also that they may require a firm hand on their group, from time to time. If you’ve ever led a guided tour, you’ll appreciate how each of these are completely necessary traits for the live interpreter.

By modern interpretive standards, we may consider some of his thesis about the natural world to be more poetic than strictly factual, but his infectious enthusiasm for engaging with nature and with people is utterly compelling. Whenever I’m stuck for how to interpret a natural phenomenon, reading a few pages of The Adventures really helps to make my words sing with interpretive joy.

And it is to Mills and Muir that we can turn when seeking a definition of interpretation as the basics are, I believe, established there. Here are passionate, committed, people who see beauty and meaning in the world around them, with a drive to share that passion with others. Their fascination was, importantly, not only with the natural world, but also with how they would go about sharing it with others – how they would interpret what they cared about. Their love for the natural riches of America was equalled by their drive to preserve and protect it.

Nature guiding was popular from the early 1900s onwards. From its foundation in 1916, the US National Parks Service employed rangers and interpreters and guided walks were the main means of interpreting the natural resources they cared for.

Around the same time, the British were taking different steps towards interpreting the world around them too, although in this case in the urban environment, by creating permanent markers of interpretation. Circular blue plaques have been placed on the houses of notable people on the streets of London since 1867, initially by the Society of Arts. Although later taken over by successive bodies of London government, and since 1986 by English Heritage, the aim remains largely the same – to create a physical link between a heritage asset (the building, often a notable person’s home), the person themselves (normally long deceased) and the viewer on the street. They are now a popular feature of London’s street life and it’s pleasing to see tourists and locals alike stopping to check who is commemorated where.

Little was published on interpretation until after the Second World War when Freeman Tilden (1883–1980), perhaps the best well-known of the pioneers of modern interpretation, gave us one of the most influential interpretive set texts. Tilden’s interpretive writings came late in his career, after years of travelling and writing and his involvement with the growing US National Parks Service and the individual State Parks. In the 1950s he was given freedom to wander the American National Parks and to come up with some new guidance that would underpin all of their public works. His book Interpreting Our Heritage (1957) was the result and is today a classic interpretive book that is still read and studied around the world. The work has been a guide, some say the guide, to interpretation ever since. In fact, part of me is rather humbled at even daring to write anything else on interpretation. For decades, his writings have been quoted and re-quoted and his six principles of interpretation are relevant to our work today. I won’t quote them at you here – instead, I highly recommend you get a copy of his succinct and profound text.

Although he’s often referred to informally as the ‘father’ of modern interpretive thinking, it’s worth remembering that Tilden’s work was related to, and directly inspired by, that of Mills and Muir who came before him.

Thankfully, Tilden was mindful of the character of the interpreter and our need to regurgitate and recalibrate our ideas every so often, so gave his readers permission to add to his list of six principles, suggesting that there may well be more. Over the years people have indeed added to the original list and today countless guides to interpretation exist, each with their bulleted points of recommendations to interpreters. With that in mind, I like to see Tilden as more of a catalyst for great interpretive thinking rather than as patriarch of the interpretive church. It is from him that many of our modern questions about how to plan and deliver interpretation stem.

Tilden’s six principles of interpretation were designed as a guide – a mantra even – that interpreters ought to follow in all that they do. So while I urge you to put this book down and go grab his instead, I also urge you to read on to see how his work has an impact on what we do today.

In 1965 the US National Park Service published the Interpretive Planning Handbook offering, for the first time, standardised advice to individual parks on how to create interpretive installations. Its typed pages are available to read online and show in detail the recommendations that were made to sites when installing interpretation in a uniform way. In 1996 they issued Interpretive Planning – a unified planning system for the entire service with similar plans written to a standard format for each National Park – a comprehensive interpretive plan, long-range interpretive plan and an implementation plan for year-by-year activity. Such control and oversight of the interpretive process might make some readers at smaller heritage sites nervous about the standardisation of how to communicate with visitors, but with so many sites and so many staff across such a vast area, a unified approach may wel...