In part one of this two-part series about how we went about building an Alpha website for Wellcome Library, we looked at how we turned ‘subject headings’ into webpages.

This post looks at the second major type of aggregation pages we settled on: people.

At first we were tempted to refer to these as ‘authors’, using the language of books, but of course the library isn’t just books, and so sometimes the people might be editors, collaborators, artists (the library has an art collection too), scientists credited on academic papers, and so on.

Within the MARC metadata we were given, people are referenced mostly in the 100 field (‘Main Entry–Personal Name’), but also in the 700 field (‘Added Entry-Personal Name’). As far as we could make out, there’s only ever one person in the 100 field (with only a couple of exceptions), but there could be many in the 700. It wasn’t clear to us what the semantic difference was, so we took the decision to merge them all together.

Each person field contains a bunch of sub-fields for the person’s name, title (Mr, Mrs, Sir, etc) and dates (normally just birth and/or death), as well as some other lesser-used sub-fields like ‘numeration’ (e.g. the ‘II’ in Pope John Paul II) and ‘attribution qualifier’ (used for describing someone as the ‘pupil of’ an artist, when the actual artist is unknown).

One awkward stumbling block was that the name of the person followed the library tradition of being in ‘surname-comma-firstnames’ format. This convention makes it easy for computer systems to sort by surname, which historically has probably been the most useful order for readers. But we felt strongly that it is the least user-friendly way of actually reading people’s names, as it inverts the natural order of the way we pronounce people’s full names (no-one talks about ‘Hawking Steven’, but ‘Steven Hawking’ is a household name). Switching the order back sounds like a simple task (split the string at the last comma, then reverse the order), and mostly is, but there are always exceptions – and where we encounter strings like “Peter, of Celle, Bishop of Chartres,ca”, it’s a bit harder to turn these back into more readable names.

With our goal being to make the library catalogue browsable (rather than just searchable), our next task was to find ways to enrich the information about the people in the database, helping readers to find out more about them (which may in turn shed some light on what the content of the book is likely to be).

Like with subjects, many of the 100 and 700 people fields contain an ID linking the person to an external authority file. Unlike with subjects though, we only encountered  a single authority file in use: the Library of Congress Name Authority.

Where they existed, we could use these IDs to make sure that multiple books by the same person would appear on the same single person page, even if their name was spelt out or punctuated differently on the different records.

It would have been tempting to use these Library of Congress IDs within the URL structure of the Alpha site. But because they weren’t always present (either because that person isn’t in the LOC authority file, or just because the record has been matched up), we couldn’t do that, and so minted our own IDs instead. For simplicity’s sake, these are simple numbers, but preceded by the letter ‘P’ (for person).

We discovered an existing project called VIAF, which aims to link together name authority files from many different institutions across the globe. By querying this database with the Library of Congress IDs, we collected up all the other IDs that were available. This means we can construct links from the people pages on the Wellcome Library website to the equivalent pages on other catalogues, such as the national libraries of France, Germany, Spain, Canada, and many more.

Pleasingly, VIAF has also collected IDs referencing Wikipedia pages. As Wikipedia allows others to uses its content under a Creative Commons licence, we could query the site (using its API) and display the content on our person pages. We decided to display the first two sentences (with a link to Wikipedia to read the full biography), on the basis that that’s usually enough information to get a sense of what the person is mostly known for. We also removed any text from Wikipedia in parentheses, as these are normally dates (which we show elsewhere), a pronunciation guide to their name, or other minor details that weren’t needed for a quick read.

As well as text, we also collected the images from the Wikipedia page, and use the first one (if there are any) within a circle to illustrate the person on both their person page and aggregation pages. This mostly works – where it’s a photo or drawing of the person, or even if it’s a scan of one of their works – but does sometimes show a slightly misleading image.

There was a small amount of concern over using Wikipedia as a source of content (although most were positive). One issue is what might happen if we pull the content from Wikipedia at a point in time when that page has been vandalised. We could mitigate that to some extent by regularly updating our content on a rolling schedule (and relying on the community to resolve) – but to allow for any major issues to be resolved more quickly than that, we added an admin feature to immediately refresh the content from Wikipedia. So if someone at Wellcome spots a page where the Wikipedia introduction is inaccurate or contains vandalised content, they can fix it on Wikipedia itself, and then have those changes reflected on the Wellcome Library page.

As well as the Wikipedia intro, we added a feature allowing Wellcome staff to add a separate intro to be displayed alongside it. Our rule of thumb here was that this intro should be specific to the Wellcome institution, rather than repeating the sort of general information that might be on a Wikipedia biography. So things like that person’s relationship to Wellcome (e.g. if it’s Henry Wellcome himself) or noting what sort of material from that person was available at the Wellcome Library (which could be quite a lot, if it’s one of the people whose personal archives are held there).

After these context-setting introductions and photo, we display some data about that person collected from the catalogue itself: things like the subjects their works are mostly about, a timeline of when their works were created/published and what format their works are mostly in. More experimentally, we tried displaying some links to other people who are the “contemporaries” of that person. This query changed a few times as we tried to refine it, and ended up being something along the lines of “people who have produced works about the some of same subjects and who were born within 10 years”. It sometimes works well, sometimes doesn’t.

Finally, we added the ability to highlight ‘interesting’ people to appear on the homepage.

Our last and most recent step was to go back and use an additional type of metadata that we originally missed: field 600 which contains people, but who are the subject of a work rather than its creator. Pleasingly for these ‘person-as-subject’ pages we could re-use the simple URL structure for subject pages (/subjects/S1234) but replacing the S-number for the person’s P-number. (One key benefit of differentiating your IDs for different types of things).


Since this commission began, there’s been a visit to MVRDV in Rotterdam, a Part I blog post, and an interview about these ideas with Annet Dekker published on the HNI website. Annet also wrote a great scene-setting post there too, about the challenge of this kind of digital archiving, with a great reading list: Bringing out subjective relationships: Relations of technics, concepts and actors in digital archives.

I must admit, it’s taken me much longer to complete this speculative commission that I’d first thought. I’m now sure answering the questions it asks could be a life’s work, and that made it a bit daunting to try to collapse the huge range of initial ideas into two blog posts (and the interview). In any case, I’d be curious and appreciative of any reactions you have to it.

New Representations of Work

One theme that’s emerged through conversation and research is that we’re missing an opportunity to do better, more relational, and richer archival representations of organisations. There is very much more available to us than the more traditional “bucket of files” which is often deemed the equivalent of an archive (when really it’s just a backup of a bucket of files.

In a previous life, I was art director at Stamen Design in San Francisco. When we had a design intern join us for a few months, Zoe Padgett, I wasn’t sure how to keep her busy and engaged from the outset, so I dreamt up a piece of work that could simmer away while she was with us: to visualise the company itself. In this project now, I’ve found myself returning to what she made. It feels like a new representation of corporate life, and has a particular focus on the people in the company, not necessarily the company’s output. During her internship, Zoe conducted a bunch of interviews, surveys and other chats, and painted a picture of us that we’d never seen before, even though we lived it each day.

by zoe padgett

Zoe studied us and the studio, figuring out who we were, where we’re from, and what we liked to eat when we were in the office. One of her interview questions was ‘what is your favourite animal?’ and that resulted in one of my favourite staff lists ever.

By Zoe PadgettThe other thing I enjoyed about Zoe’s approach was that it wasn’t particularly about our projects, our output, but about us. There is (and has always been) so much more material available to us about the whole company that what it makes public, to illustrate and even explain the company dynamics.

MVRDV is a titan in the architecture world. It’s a big, successful firm that’s made hundreds of projects, many of them built, and the public facade online reflects that. It’s ultra-professional, and (interestingly) specialises in creating hyper-real aspirational imagery around its projects. One tricky part with architecture archives though, is that it’s almost never possible to collect The Thing made by architects. Inevitably they’re about process around the thing, and in fact, it’s actually quite rare that an architecture project gets built in the world, in which case it’s all process.

Today though, there’s a pretty big gap between representing the process of creation and what we often think of as the archive… The digital archive is handed over as a bucket of files, like someone dragged a backup disk onto another backup disk, so what you’re seeing is files and folders and files and folders. No sense in there of who did what when and why.


Don’t get me wrong, it’s still interesting to look at working files. But, what I can’t know from the bucket of files in its current form is who made them, at whose request, for what stage in the project, whether the boss was happy with it, whether it reached the client, or anything like that. We can’t know that from Zoe’s Stamen Menagerie either, to be fair.

(Does this mean I want to be a social historian?)

This problem is hard, and most companies probably don’t really record this kind of information in a organised or archival way. Is there more of an opportunity than ever to witness the people involved in the creation of raw archival material? How does having a named account on a web service where you upload stuff (Dropbox, Google, Instagram, Flickr) improve potential for identity in archives? It’s no longer endless folders of IMG_3467.jpg, is it? Can we do better? How can we do better?

Actors in the Archive?

I wanted to know much more about the who, so I set about a quick study of the MVRDV actors to see if I could figure out anything about who worked there. The first piece was a bone simple survey that asked a few simple questions:

  1. What are the four most important projects at MVRDV?
  2. What’s your job title? optional
  3. What year did you start at MVRDV? optional

With the caveat that the staff probably didn’t know anything about me or this commission so why would they do the survey, we ended up with 25 responses from the company. Even in these responses, the results were as expected: respondents would probably mention the famous projects.

MVRDV Stage 1: Staff Survey, Top 4 Projects

# Project Votes %
TP261 Markthall 19 76%
TP065 Expo2000 15 60%
TP010 Villa VRPO 7 28%
TP028 Silodam 6 24%

I’ve published the raw results and some cooked views on it as a Google sheet, with permissions set to ‘anyone can comment’. I liked that because people had been asked for their Top 4, it seemed like there were quite a few personal favourites mentioned in the results too. 33 projects got a special mention in the end.

Another highlight for me was a glimmer of something that you probably wouldn’t find in a bucket of files; someone’s answer to “When did you start?” was “I don’t wanna know”.

The Soylent Archive: It’s Made of People

I’m drawn to projects that put people in the centre. Here are some of my favourite examples.

1. Hacking Rambert
You’ve probably heard of Leila Johnston, and if you haven’t, you should have a look at her work. She’s a prolific writer, thinker, and maker who’s constantly putting out incisive, original work around the collision of art and tech. Anyway, I watched with interest as she worked on her latest project called Hacking Rambert, installed as ‘digital creative in residence’ at Rambert Dance Company in London.

I looked into a lot of interesting things. Time. The building. Code. Rendering sound. Musicality. Portraits. Heat. I looked at people – especially dancers. How is it possible that most people never get really good at anything, yet other people find themselves here, doing such an extraordinary thing for a living?

I particularly enjoyed Johnston’s portraits of the dancers, especially in the context of the ephemeral performance. I love that she made digital captures of the dancers, and then printed them in 3D physical form, and even more so that a lot of it was very ‘lo-poly’ or low resolution. As Johnston suggests, low resolution can mean high fidelity and that’s not something traditionally witnessed in archives, I’d suggest, except maybe after years of work?

by Leila Johnston

She also published a short book about her reflections on the residency, and one phrase struck me, her conceptual prompt, “how can I ensure I’m not doing ‘interior design’ or simple illustrations of dance concept on stage etc, but show something of the authentic situation of digital and its relationship to dance, as it stands in 2016?”

Hmm… authentic situation of digital… in 2016.

2. Tracking Transcience
Is a much older piece of work, but still living, which is sort of nuts for a digital thing. Tracking Transience was started in 2002 by an artist called Hasan Elahi (who has gone on to make all sorts of brilliant things). After 9/11, Elahi got hassled a lot as he travelled, always getting bothered at borders and airports and questioned unfairly, so he did something amazing. He put his whole life online, in remarkable detail. Where he was all the time, what he ate, what he bought… the lot. So the next time he was hassled, he could point to precise evidence of his whereabouts.

In 2002, this was a radical act, and I think that level of transparency still is radical. As much as the world has turned since then, and many of us post a lot of ourselves online, it’s rare to show ourselves wholly. It’s even more rare for a company. Transparency can be threatening, but maybe if there’s a company who would be up for it, perhaps it’s MVRDV.

3. Who lives in the Wellcome Library?
A project I’ve been working on over the last ten months or so with the Wellcome Library touches on this idea of trying to find the actors in a collection system. Library websites can be really dry, and almost always rely on people knowing what they’re looking for, so we tried to directly reveal the WHO and not just the WHAT.

With our What’s in the Library? project, we looked at the data from a bird’s eye view, and were able to display the people in it. Visualising people in a dataset like this can show you a really different dynamic in the collection. Just by clicking around and exploring interconnections of people and subjects, you can learn something about who was writing what, and when.


It’s simple, but a nice way to explore.

Who are the actors in the MVRDV performance?

Even though this commission wasn’t about making a piece of software, I did a few sketches about showing people, who they worked with, and how many of their projects ended up getting built. I wonder what data you’d need to drive a visualisation like this?


When I began this project, I started following MVRDV on the popular web services like Facebook. I noticed an announcement that they appointed five new partners, and immediately wondered about all the things that had led to that announcement.

Then I wondering how the staff at the firm has changed over time, and who worked together a lot and formed great collaborations. Which of the lots of fresh interns made a great impression and stuck around? What might be interesting about mapping job titles and pay rates over time?

Turns out you can start to see this sort of thing, if you look, on LinkedIn. I spent an afternoon looking up everyone who listed the company in their profile, and made a note of when they started, and you can easily see the growth of the company over time:


Start dates for MVRDV staff listed on LinkedIn

This is just a small thing I suppose. I remember on the visit to the company back in November last year wondering if I could access the more HR-related records. I’m looking for some kind of overlay of all the digital output of the company with the people that made it.

But, what about born-digital work?

It’s really hard! You must be indefatigable, and not many of us are.

  • Track and manage all external systems. In my first three months of making Good, Form & Spectacle, I’d used about 30 online services in some way.
  • Try to use a common thread across your projects, like an sequential identifier. MVRDV does this, and I’ve started to. (HNI is #011.)
  • Make plan for documenting and packaging near-past work. Teach all staff, and even better, collaborate and talk over it all together. Add this step of describing together to your workflow.
  • At some point you’ll have to attack the early projects. As a first step, you could archive at least one born-digital element for each?
  • Determine “important” projects by interview and/or data analysis (cost, profit, built/not built, staff happiness, press attention etc). This sort of analysis will be interesting for future visitors too. Even imagining that your company may be interesting enough to be poked at by a future researcher is a good thought, because it’s useful to imagine an audience for your archival narrative.
  • Assess whether old works need to be able to be re-run or just well-documented. Even though a Proper Archivist would want to truly encapsulate it, that just might not be possible. These vast software systems we see today (Facebook, etc) would require archival infrastructure the like of which has not been seen in order to be encapsulated for posterity.

A Live Archive?

Let’s just say you’ve done the hard work of going back over your work and archived it all beautifully. What might you do into the future, as you work?

Since very many of us are now using computers to do our daily work, we create and hold  dates, files, IDs, assets etc for all sorts of things as we go. This is broadly good. It’s a lot more raw material than we’ve had before, and it has some automated metadata that’s useful (instead of being ‘in the shoebox under the bed covered in dust and only brought to an archivist posthumously’).

For me, one of the main revolutionary aspects of Web 2.0 was this idea that you could be looking at a live dataset in a webpage. Before that, everything was fixed (if updated here and there). Since then, a lot of the web and its design has become centered on liveness, or recentness. It’s possible to know in bizarre but fascinating detail who did what and when.

Look at this animation of six weeks of coding on the open-source Linux operating system:

So what could a live archive be like? What if archiving things was a moment-by-moment active task? Remember that a backup is not the same as an archive, mostly because it’s not especially described separate to its existence. Perhaps there are instant or daily uploads into it, like you’d upload to Dropbox or Google or wherever. Perhaps there’s also a daily ingest by a local institution or one you’re a member of. (So for me, that would be Islington Council Libraries and Heritage Services, or maybe even the British Museum). Perhaps it’s about drip-fed longevity instead of great globs. Perhaps a junior archivist could actually be a computer program. It might compute things about your work, a bit like Slack’s weekly updates, or the lovely, now defunct Dopplr Annual Report.


When I was starting up Good, Form & Spectacle, I was fantasising about what sorts of roles I’d like to have make up the company, and archivist was hire no. 2. Therefore, I was envious when I came across an LA design studio that has created a position called Studio Mirror, whose main role is to document things, and then report back after projects are finished. What luxury!

The studio mirror is a distinct role and a job title. In our studio Luke’s role was to archive our work and reflect it back to the team in a unique way, much like the documentation of these principles. Pursued with persistence and the eye of a journalist, the Studio Mirror should capture not only WHAT is being made but HOW and by WHOM. This isn’t simply dumping files on a server but rather curating the content in a way that is compelling and consumable for the team. For example, our studio created a quarterly magazine. You can read ADQ2.1: The Launch Issue here.

There are many reasons to identify a single person to own the documentation process. First and foremost, the details of a project are easy to forget, especially when projects last several years. Archiving work is both productive and functional; a reflective studio believes that the work can always be done a little better. Finally, a well-documented project also makes it easier for new studio members to enter a project quickly and efficiently.

But perhaps the most important value for persistently documenting the collective work of a studio is that it is a sound investment in the future. The longer I work the more I have come to appreciate how people behave throughout the entire design process. Thus, the story of the product is not only how the product itself evolves, but also how the individuals and team grew while making it.

In a world which demands so much in the present, I value that at some point in the future I can look back through our quarterly magazines with a glass of whiskey in my hand, examining the process of what was made and how we made it, and think, “That was a good place to work, I learned something and we made great things.”

There’s a mountain of live reporting tools to show you exactly where your devops systems are at, and the smallest changes in performance of massive systems (and small ones) like web services or data centres.

the web is covered in dashboards

These sort of things tend to show you what’s happening, and not always why, and I think that’s the tricky part and not just with born digital stuff.

I’m afraid I don’t have a mind blowing conclusion. It’s a combination of creator-awareness, small bit archival just-in-time processing, and humans to keep an eye on it all.  It’s helpful to imagine yourself leaving notes to the future, and how they might be read. I’ve enjoyed reflecting on my own work through this, and making small interventions.  I’ve started a Slack channel where I post photographs of every whiteboard before we erase it, annotated and dated, with the view to making an artefact of it at some point down the line. I’ve started writing README files for all client and project folders, about how the work came about. And one thing I’ve tried to do from the outset is write a lot about what’s happening along the way.

So what could this mean for MVRDV? There’s some thinking to do about how transparent they might like to be with Het Nieuwe Instituut. There’s an opportunity to share company machinations in very great detail, very much more than a back-up bucket of files. In order to fully do that, and fully embrace the capacity for our born digital work to generate all this metadata, there must also be spiritual confidence that this level of revelation around client correspondence, finances, HR, good times, bad times, failures and so forth must be as easily discoverable as the folder of working files for TP261, the Markthall.

If I had another twenty years to think about I might be able to figure something out. I guess the main thing is that we’re not just what we produce.

As I mentioned previously in our Visiting Researchers, ahoy! blog post, we were joined recently by sustainable product design graduate, Charlie Cattel-Killick. I ask for one or more blog posts from our visitors, and this is Charlie’s. It seems simpler for visiting designers to drop into the ongoing product development process in our sister company, Museum in a Box, and that’s just great. The work we do for clients at Good, Form & Spectacle is a little less steady, whereas there are always new boxes to think about and make. Thanks, Charlie – great to have you.
– George

Charlie writes:
It has taken me some time to get around to writing this post. Having now handed in all of my degree work I am pleased to say that I have finally found the time to write up my fantastic experience with the MIAB team (if you’re pressed for time those last six words will tell you all you need to know).

My name is Charles (Charlie) Cattel-Killick and I am now at the end of my three years studying Sustainable Product Design at Falmouth University in Cornwall. You may be wondering what that sustainable bit is all about but to explain it briefly, my course is really all about focusing on the important matters in life albeit environmental or as often tends to be the case in my portfolio, social.

Throughout my final year I have become fascinated with access to information and as part of that I delved in to ‘3D’ and ‘Heritage’ to explore ways in which design could be used to help increase access and experience with a particular focus on the potential educational benefits of combining the digital and physical. Whilst developing concepts for my project I got thinking about utilising 3D-printed replicas and how awesome it would be to pack mini artefacts up and let users curate their own mini museums in a box. Now I can’t exactly recall exactly how this next part went but somewhere in the process of typing in to my favourite search engine the phrase ‘museum in a box’ there in front of me in all its glory, the aptly named ‘Museum in a Box’.

At this stage, as any designer reading will be nodding and sighing in solidarity; that moment that you find your idea is already being realised by others is enough to close your sketchbook, have a coffee, build and bridge and move on with your life. But this time was different, the idea was too good to let go and so before realising what I’d done my outbox was busy sending an email off to co-founder George Oates filled with promises of biscuits and tea.

Fast forward a few weeks and I found myself in London still flabbergasted that the team had sanctioned my request to spend some time with them to find out what they’d been getting up to and in what way I could be of assistance. On reflection it must have been the promise of biscuits that did it.

I arrived in London not long after the MIAB team had moved into their swanky new digs in Bloomsbury and coming from three years in quiet, mildly inaccessible Cornwall writing this now I am still struggling to believe the British Museum is all of a minute away.

The experience started off with a great eye opener taking part in the BMs ‘Objectively Speaking’ conference which was a great chance to find out the latest in current approaches to object-based experiences of museums and in education with a chance to fire a few questions at the panels and also meet George for the first time, bonding over an apple and a sandwich.

Day two and it was time to get down to business, I was introduced to George Weyman which was an enormous relief knowing that having met two team members I still only had to remember one first name. Then came Tom Flynn which, in retrospect was actually a relief that he too was not called George, it was great to find out all about his Photogrammetry exploits as well as pick up a few pointers having just begun to explore it for myself.

The Bloomsbury studio was a hive of activity throughout and having spent a lot of time familiarising myself with this world through my design research it was a dream come true to be in what is fair to call the epicentre of the 3D/Museum/heritage world. We had multiple visitors each day, all with their own vision for how they would utilise the box and it seemed that for each person we talked to the possibilities for the product multiplied tenfold. It was great to be included in those kind of discussions from the word go, suggesting ideas whilst learning so much myself. I mainly brought to the stage my design skills working with George to develop a series of interactive cards for a prototype box that would be used as part of pitching to various organisations and to demonstrate the diversity of the product beyond 3D prints.

During my time in the studio I also worked on exploring box designs and started to think about new box ideas. A favourite was ‘Architecture in a Box’ which not only being a passion of mine but also having the stunning architecture all around and the breathtaking contents of the Sir John Soane’s Museum to draw inspiration from soon led to plenty of concept sketches. I was also lucky enough to go on a day trip with the team to Cambridge where we met and pitched to many great people, this also included a quick whip around the Fitzwilliam Museum, evidence for which I have provided in the image below.

Tom Flynn and Bum at the Fitzwilliam Museum

‘Tom discovers the perfect bum’

My final two days were spent working on a promotional video with Tom that we would include within an application for some funding, the completion of which was perfectly timed with a farewell curry shortly before my departure back home and then on to Cornwall.

I may be yet to graduate however spending time as a visiting research with Museum in a Box has by far been the best experience I have had as a designer. I am so grateful to all of the team for giving me a chance and welcoming me with such open arms. I understand George has grand plans for the visiting researcher programme so as the programme’s voluntary guinea pig I would recommend it fully… just be sure to bring the biscuits and plenty of tea.


George, Charlie, Tom @ Bloomsbury Place

Milk and one sugar (caffeine in the morning).


We’re beyond thrilled to welcome Professor Bill Sherman to the board of Good, Form & Spectacle. The fact that Bill is Director of Research and Collections at the Victoria & Albert Museum makes all this even better.

sherman3Bill Sherman is Director of Research and Collections at the Victoria and Albert Museum, where he is leading the development of a V&A Research Institute. He moved to the V&A from the University of York, where he was Director of the Centre for Renaissance & Early Modern Studies. He works on the ways in which objects come down to us from the past, what they pick up along the way, and how they speak across time and space. He is best known for his work on marginalia and has published widely on the history of reading and the plays of Shakespeare and his contemporaries.

Our eyes first met across a crowded project called “History of an Object in 100 Worlds”, which I’d discovered in my own research around The Small Museum idea. The project’s brilliant, and back in September 2014, I left a note on its blog saying hello and could I please learn more. From there, I went to meet with the project’s leader, Lina Hakim, who introduced me to Bill.

We have a shared interest in objects’ histories. The History of an Object pilot project resulted in a short series of V&A staff presenting their own stories about favourite objects in the museum. It’s a great read, and I hope it gets circulated more widely. Having met quite a few subject experts by now, it’s one of my favourite, favourite things to have the privilege to listen to them tell me about the objects they study.

But, back to Bill. He’s already been hugely helpful to me, both as an advisor and know-er of most of the London cultural sector. He’s also largely responsible for the successful instigation of the new V&A Research Institute (VARI), “a new programme of research and teaching partnerships that will enhance access to the V&A’s collections and develop new approaches to research, training, display and interpretation.” Given that G,F&S is also heavily invested in R&D, it just seems like a great fit.

Bill says, “George and G,F&S are full of great ideas for making collections more accessible and more interesting to a wider range of people–inside and outside the walls of museums.”

Watch this space! Welcome, Bill.

We’re excited to have moved into a new home for all sorts of reasons. It feels great to have a home base, an HQ; somewhere where people can visit and spend a moment. I’m not the sort of person who likes working in cafes or on hot desks. Frankly, I like to spread myself around a bit, and settle into a groove.

440px-Hans_SloaneWe’re in Bloomsbury, and if you can believe it, we’re in the very building where Hans Sloane used to live. There’s a blue plaque for him out the front. He lived from 1660-1753, and for almost 50 years at Bloomsbury Place. He was a physician to the rich and famous, and is notable for giving his collection to Britain, to help found the British Museum. It’s really a thrill to walk in his footsteps each day, and dream about how the place would have looked full of his books and bits and pieces from Jamaica, amongst all sorts of other things. I popped into the Enlightenment Gallery in the British Museum last week just to have a look at the bits and pieces they have out on display from him. It was nice.

Bloomsbury really is very handsome. I have loads of ideas (that may never come to pass) about getting to know the area. At the very least, we should try to install a Hans Sloane pop up museum in the foyer of our building. A friend, Amelia, suggested a “heritage hang” of a bunch of his works that are now squirrelled away in various cupboards in museums across London. That would surely be better than the shit 80s hotel art we have there at the moment.

We’re gradually filling it up with things, and are slowing needing more storage… but it’s a nice sunny space, and we’re fantasising about getting a teeny bbq for the patio. Yes, PATIO.

2016-03-02 16.18.24

2016-03-30 11.23.39

Before all that (temporary) mess trying to move into a sublet office in Whitechapel, I’d thought that Bloomsbury seemed like a good spot for a weird little museum-y company. And now we find ourselves mere moments from the front door of the British Museum.


Mischief awaits!

June 20 note: This post ended up being an intro and rough list of ideas. It will stay that way. Here’s Part II.

I am thrilled to have received one of five research commissions about New Archive Interpretations from Het Nieuwe Instituut in Rotterdam. I’ve been working with Annet Dekker to shape the commission, and this blog post is the first blob of thoughts on my research so far. It’s rough stuff, and a new type of work for me, but part of my commission is about sharing work in progress.

Here’s how the commission is described:

In 2014 Het Nieuwe Instituut launched New Archive Interpretations, a series of commissions for artists, designers and researchers to examine the influence and impact of the digital archive in relation to its analogue predecessor, the paper archive. Over a two-year period they investigate the challenges and opportunities of digital archives.

[From Annet’s introduction:] The primary focus in this research project is on looking at the invisible layers of digital archives, seeing archives as systems. We ask the artist, designer or ‘archive thinker’ not to build a new archive or analyse an existing archive, but to view archives as systems that are in a constant state of flux: some parts are largely invisible, and yet at the same time an archive symbolises monumentality, authority and can be found everywhere in this day and age.

I think it was as early as 2005, when I first began giving talks about my design work on Flickr, that I proclaimed an interest in organic information systems. We were all part of a huge information system, with photographs as nodes, which many separate humans were able to classify and organise. That folksonomic data system was supported by auto-generated metadata about the photograph and its (digital) camera too, which has only increased in volume and facet as cameras continue to improve. (See Tom Coates, Native to a Web of Data, 2006-2008.)

Sadly, I suspect the quality of description of photographs on Flickr has degraded considerably since the user interface has hidden the tagging and other annotation features almost completely in favour of “sit back” interfaces for browsing big photos. I can confirm that the quality of metadata on my photographs there has degraded to practically nothing.

Het Nieuwe Instituut

As I understand it, Het Nieuwe Instituut (HNI) is a 2013 amalgam of four separate institutions, including the Netherlands Architecture Institute. Annet asked me to do my research using the archive of the Rotterdam (and now global) architecture firm, MVRDV. MVRDV is transferring its archive to Het Nieuwe Instituut now-ish, and it’s the first major archive to be added to the HNI, which holds the collection of national architecture and built environment. The archive consists of primarily of digital materials. This commission is hoped to provide some prompts about working with born-digital stuff, and ongoing born-digital acquisition policy. (I was very sorry to miss an panel event at HNI about this acquisition, along with the Zaha Hadid archive! I wonder if it’s archived.)

I’m still learning about the firm, but the basics are: formed in 1993, three founders at the core, hundreds of projects, lots of design output, several manifesto releases, lots of blue foam modelling blocks, and many new buildings in the world. There’s a continuing theme of stacking and layering present in their work, across different scales. They’re also known as early pioneers of “datascapes,” and continue to push the boundaries in the way they animate their future plans with exceptional, beautiful digital design and affect, like this:



Field trip

In November, I went to meet HNI to discuss the commission outline with Annet, Arianne and Suzanne, the archivist who will be responsible for the MVRDV archive. From there, we all went to MVRDV to have a look around, and thank you very much to Jan K and Isabel P for being so welcoming and generous.

The head office is on a side street, and it’s a big old warehouse building that is light and open. Amusingly, the three directors are sequestered off in the smallest working space, since they’re out and about so much, and don’t really need big workspaces. The office is full of project displays, computers, blue foam models and colour.

The company keeps an archive downstairs, which we had a look around. It looks messy — as every good archive does — but the organisation slowly revealed itself…

The office is also designed to entertain clients, and show off previous work. The foyer places the visitor immediately amongst models and cases full of interesting colourful things. It’s fun and engaging.

Physical history traces

There was also a wall right there — and Jan had a name for it, something like “the highlight wall” — which was a grid of about 50 gorgeous images for those highlight projects. I became interested in how that wall was also an artefact of the company, and noticed that it changes over time, as new highlights are overlaid on top of older projects.


Preliminary thoughts, threads to pull

  • survey – expected results
  • project centric; output centric
  • 5% of projects built; lots of speculative design
  • what’s it like INSIDE the firm
  •  working at a small company, it’s all about the people
  • interesting to see now how they’re represented in the press – no formal archive of Flickr, as far as I know
  • inspired by Zoe Padgett’s work
  • BPMA – development of postal service written down
Archives are not particularly about object-level description; they’re often described through sets of things like boxes or folders.
  • dance – humans must be there
  • leila @ rambert
  • New Movement
  • how do we show people in an archive?
  • people, subjects in wellcome – 233,000, mostly old white guys
  • who worked there, when, what projects?
  • long term live performance?
  • “Getting to Good” Erika Hall
  • design of an archive – about the why, not the how?
  • what is the objective of this archive? if it’s to represent the output of the studio, then list of projects might do that. If it’s to represent the studio, then we need more.
  • what are the “rules and relationships” underlying the studio? that will make the archive endure
  • we can connect with multiple subjectivities now; we’re now in a worldwide dialogue
  • Ranganathan’s fifth law
  • MVRDV 93000 followers
  • People ID systems
  • Digital metadata is often very thin, and doesn’t feel especially deep. It’s been interesting to (finally) become an actual researcher of a few different cultural collections.
Things to think with:
Simone Forti, New Movement, Brecht on Theatre, Paper Knowledge, The Facilitated Collection, OMA/Progress catalogue, Archive or Memory? The Detritus of Live Performance, Library of Congress Architecture, Design & Engineering Drawings collection
Things to do:
Look more deeply into MVRDV online presence, visit RIBA, sketch some visual archive ideas?