Hey ho! Let's go!

Josh is the Museum’s deputy director , but more importantly for this blog, he is also the Museum’s historian. He received his graduate education at New York University, studying in the joint program in American history and Judaic studies, and his dissertation is Choreographing Identity: Modern Dance and American Jewish Life, 1924-1954. I like to kid him about his dissertation topic, but he assures me that the interest level in modern dance and American Jewish life is above three figures, and maybe even into the mid-three figures, so what do I know?

Meanwhile, as historian he is overseeing the development of the core exhibition for the new Museum. Why a National Museum of American Jewish History, I asked him. “There is no institution devoted to exhibiting and educating the public about the American Jewish experience. Nor are there any major museums that take on ethnic history in this country. There are archives, and there are museums, that, as part of their story, include the American Jewish experience, but there is no single site under one roof with the sole focus of more than 350 years of American Jewish life. This is the gap it fills,” he said.

Fair enough. But what is this Museum going to give me that I haven’t got before? What is it going to mean for the average Joe, or Jew, so to speak? “Two things. It tells the story of coming to America, what it means to be a member of an ethnic community as well as a religious community, and how these experiences have shaped and been shaped by American Jews,” Josh said.

He also said, “The story we tell in our museum is part of the larger national story. Sitting on Independence Mall, steps from Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell, we are conscious that freedom is an essential part of the exhibition’s narrative. But, in the exhibition, we are dealing with freedom in a complex way, not as a historical utopia, but as complicated set of ideals we face as individuals, as communities, and as a nation. Almost anyone can identify with that.”

Josh went on to say that artifacts will be used with strong storytelling about the lives of people, and combined with cutting edge technology.

Before he drifted too far into Museum/historian speak, I asked, “What about Dylan? Will there be something about Dylan? How about Joey (born Jeffrey Ross Hyman) Ramone? We gotta’ have Joey Ramone in the Museum. And Dylan.”


Photograph of Joey Ramone by Susan Leh, courtesy of Michael Leh

Josh was sympathetic but couldn’t make any promises. He did say that the exhibition would include all sorts of cultural figures, both famous and infamous, and that the second floor of the Museum, one full floor, will be devoted to Jewish life in America after World War II.

A whole floor, eh? There should be plenty of room for Dylan and Joey and a lot of other greats. I’ll be staying to top of it.

An Introduction

Ask me to name my top five musicians and the answer is easy. Bruce Springsteen, Graham Parker, Solomon Burke, Otis Clay and Otis Redding. They roll off the tongue effortlessly. I’ve gone over the list often with friends, sometimes on the drive to, or from, a distant Springsteen concert. Like characters in Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity, I’m obsessed with music.

Ask me to name my top five museums, or museum experiences, and it’s a different story. None spring instantly to mind, like, say, Thunder Road does when I’m asked what I think is Springsteen’s greatest song. But if I give it some thought, I can recall a few great museum visits.

During my first trip to Europe, in 1985, I went to the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. Lots of armor and weapons there, which I learned are the types of things called applied arts, and which I discovered I’m not a big fan of. Ol’ Vic and Al had more objects, many more, but I can’t remember anything else, either because I wasn’t much interested in the collection, or I’ve since forgotten. Except there was also an exhibition, I think of watercolors, but it could have been a general art exhibition, and I think it was drawn from the museum’s collection, but I’m not sure about that, either. What I do know is that I was captivated by Paul Klee’s, Allegory of Propaganda. In fact, I bought a print and schlepped it all through Europe. (Why I didn’t think to ship it home, I don’t know, but it’s not atypical of the kinds of things I do.)

Like my reaction to the Klee painting, there are some movies, or books, or music that I respond to in an emotional way, instantaneously. I may be able to tell you why it appeals to me – the colors, the theme, the composition. Or I may not. Sometimes I just LIKE it. I connect with it. It moves me.

Taken with Paul Klee, I made it a point to see a 1987 exhibition of his works at the Museum of Modern Art, and what a feast it was. Painting after painting, I liked virtually all of them. My initial connection with his work, and enthusiasm for it, was real, and had been sustained.

Meanwhile, back in Europe, I also made it to the Jeu De Paume, which at the time held a collection of impressionist works. It was a perfect museum experience. The paintings, of course, were terrific. Masterpieces, I believe they are called by people who know a thing or two about art. What also made the visit great was the size of the Jeu De Paume. It was the perfect size. I saw all of these amazing paintings, and I mean all of them, and was out of there in two hours.

It’s not like I want to treat museum visits like a drive-through at McDonald’s, but after a couple of hours at one I start to lose concentration and just wear out. So, brevity is good. A bad museum experience is when an exhibition is so crowded, typically a “blockbuster,” I can barely get to see a painting, or other works, and when I am able to catch a glimpse of something it’s while being jostled by other visitors. I hate that.

A more recent museum that I thoroughly enjoyed was the Tenement Museum in New York. (Side note: I visited it while in New York for the final two shows, at Shea Stadium, of Springsteen’s Rising Tour.) As I walked through the tenement building that serves as the museum, by God, I felt what it was like to live in a tenement. The cramped conditions, the poverty, the daily oppression of the lives of these people. I felt like I knew the families who lived in the two tenement apartments we visited, the Gumpertzes and the Baldizzis, and the hard times they endured. Their stories were poignant, excellently told by the docent, and I was done in about 90 minutes.

So, I’m a museum person, of sorts. I always enjoy visiting them, and find the best inspirational, but museums are not a constant presence in my life the way, say, music, or sports, are.

Well, that’s not exactly true. I find myself working in one, the National Museum of American Jewish History here on Independence Mall in Philadelphia. So, of course, museums are a part of my professional life.


Rendering of new Museum at Independence Mall,
courtesy of Polshek Partnership Architects.

It’s an interesting place, and we are going to get a lot more interesting. We are in the midst of a campaign to build a new Museum a half-block away, but also on the Mall. I’m fortunate and pleased that I’ll have input into this magnificent structure we are going to put up, a museum whose ambitious goal is to tell the story of the Jewish people in America, even if my input will be minor indeed. (“Hey folks, in my opinion, I think the trash cans should be placed on the left side of the entrance, not the right.”)

But this blog is not going to be strictly about museums. It’s going to be about music, art, sports, current events, Jewish identity, and anything that interests me, almost always with a Jewish slant.

I hope it’s going to be a dialogue. I know about museums having worked here for a while, and I know some things about history and Judaism, but I’m no expert in any of these areas.

But I do have opinions, and I’m sure you do, too. And, I, and by extension, the Museum, welcome what you have to say. We truly want to hear what you think a National Museum of American Jewish History should be. With one exception. I’m not interested in what you have to say about the placement of the trash cans. That’s my call.