I believe that storytelling is one of the most important things we can do as human beings. Jonathan Harris – capturing stories told by ordinary people, making them collide and interact – is totally my hero.

I admire so much of his practice – from personally collecting ephemera and found objects to digitally harvesting public, yet profoundly intimate, tales.

One day, when I grow up, I’d love to play a similar role as a curator of everyday storytelling.

How wonderful would it be if we could design a museum, library, gallery, experience as personalized as this?

Going to exhibitions recently I’ve been quite interested to watch people standing around with ‘gallery tour’ devices pinned to their ears. There are a number of different ways to ‘appreciate’ objects in the modern gallery or museum – now increasingly moving towards the interactive – and I wonder how this might change your approach to what you’re experiencing.

I’ve had a few conversations recently with people who’ve wondered about the significance of the role that an exhibitor, curator, museum designer might play in the patron’s approach to the work. To me, bringing together a collection of objects around a topic seems like a powerful act of meaning-making – I think works of art, or items in a museum, gain value and renewed significance through their surrounding context and arrangement into a collection or exhibition.

I personally believe that audiences of all kinds of texts also actively construct and ground their own meanings based on their own personal experience and context; the path they’ve walked to get to be in front of the object. As a result, what we do as librarians, curators, archivists, information designers, to contribute to this context can have a big impact.

When I went to see the Te Papa Monet exhibition a few months ago, I went with a close friend. I found this friend gave me a far more customized and memorable experience than any gallery tour gadget could have given, simply by explaining, pointing out, and discussing the paintings with me.

I think that, while perhaps an audio track (which many people were using) might have given more detail and depth of information, her personal guidance gave me more grounded knowledge, as we were able to relate what we saw to things we had previously discussed – she knew what I might already be familiar with, and was able to draw connections.

I think it is interesting to consider the various ways that patrons might encounter additional “background information” about texts visited in a cultural heritage institution, and how that information might be designed to leave a more personal impact.

(By the way: the work featured in the clip is by a Ukranian Artist, Vladimir Baranoff-Rossiné, and is from the early 20th Century. It is a sculpture called “Symphony Number 1“. And thanks, Brock, for the link to this awesome video.)

Mmm, Aro Valley. The barista at Aro Cafe now greets me by name every morning when I stop there on my way to work. He knows what I like to drink, and often if I go there with friends for breakfast he’ll say – ‘Would you like a long black to get started, Timothy?’ – as we head for our table.

Even though Aro has raised the price of their long blacks recently, I still frequently stop by there for a coffee. I have to admit that I feel this personal connection has quite a bit to do with my continued patronage!

In fact, I think it is pretty significant that in a city like Wellington, where I have so much choice in terms of coffee, it has been the baristas that have most frequently influenced my repeat visits.

I think there is something to learn from my experience, about the power of personal, one-to-one, human, connection for creating great experiences. I wonder how this experience translates into web services, the online environment, or even patrons’ experience of libraries or museums.

Brooklyn Museum made this kind of personal connection with me recently, when I signed up to become one of their ’1stfans’. Within a few minutes of subscribing, I recieved a tweet from their community manager, welcoming me to the group, and emails and friend requests only a short time after that. Even though I am miles away from New York city (and wonder if I’ll every actually get to visit the Brooklyn Museum in my life) I feel much more a part of this community, fond of this place, and connected to its staff, than I do (for example) my local public library!

Is this feeling just some illusion? Has my favourite Aro Street barista just used a little bit of manipulative psychology to turn me into a repeat customer?

I’m not sure, but it does make me think more about my current role as Senior Tutor. I definitely could be doing a better job at making a personal connection with my students, particularly those who are further away- who I don’t see in class each week. If I think about it, my role is at least in part, to be a ‘community manager’ of sorts. I wonder what I can do to make their experience of the programme more personal. How can I learn more about them and anticipate their needs?

Any ideas? I suspect it is something more subtle than just ‘get them to follow you on twitter’. I think one thing I could do right away is try to reply individually and quickly to emails from students, instead of ‘saving up’ my replies and sending out group messages. But how do I balance the additional time cost this might bring.

Have you any suggestions? Perhaps you have particularly good or memorable experiences that spring to mind that I could learn from.

Work from Victoria’s first year design students is now starting to appear on Vimeo.com (that’s the pretty youtube). It just blows me away that this is the work of students who just started at uni in February this year. They’re already creating work to the standard of professional advertising. Check more videos out on Vimeo!