The end of the Roman Art exhibit started the year for us.  As usual, visitors waited till the last weekend to come see the show.  The line looped completely through all the first floor galleries.  We kept the visitors occupied and relatively happy while they waited two hours to see the show.

We also started the festivities with storms that blew trees down on the property, taking power lines and fencing with them.  When power goes down for any length of time, the conservators and registrars get fidgety, so we had to deal with notifications and, you know, darkness.  This incident was the first of several we experienced throughout the year, including a generator malfunction that resulted in twenty-foot flames shooting from the dock exhaust pipe like an F-18 launch from the Ronald Reagan.

We survived the Summer Nights film series, including our first midnight showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show.  Numerous organizers were concerned because the movie was starting as the opening party for the Egyptian exhibit was ending.  A challenge, but we got through it with flying colors.  Emails from moviegoers said what a great time they had and “can we do it again next year?”

Our officers responded to numerous medical emergencies throughout the year.  Though trained in basic first aid, they didn’t do much in the way of bandaging folks up.  The majority of incidents seemed to be of the low sugar/ill feeling variety.  When it really hit the fan we called in EMTs to do the serious work, but our officers were great at staying professional and tending to the victims.

Some other accomplishments this year included hiring and training two (or three, I lost track) new officer classes, training new control room officers, getting everyone through verbal de-escalation training, and finally figuring out the Red Cross on-line First Aid/CPR course.  Doing on-line training cut way down on our overtime by allowing officers to work at their own pace instead of having to come in on a day off.

Speaking of training, with the help of the Nugget Factory and numerous staff members, PSD was able to create its first in-house training video.  The video shows several scenarios of visitor interactions and illustrates the proper way for our security officers to behave.  Our actor-officers had a great time filming the video and their performances have provided hours of entertainment for the rest of their teammates.

Mindy Summers and I arranged a meet & greet with Major Paul Ciesielski, the IMPD Northwest district commander, and Jackie Stackman, the Community Relations officer.  We had lunch at Puck’s, showed them the security control room, and got some tips on how to take a bite out of crime.  Jackie now sends regular alerts and dates of community meetings, and police officers have held roving roll calls on our campus to help provide an enhanced presence in our area.

I now have a new BFF in Lisa Freiman, our Contemporary curator.  She begged me for her own cartoon and I never miss a chance to suck up to the cool kids, so I relented.  Inspired by Lisa’s Belly of the Beast blog entry, here’s what I came up with.

Oh, and Penrod?  It was perfect!  The weather was great, there were no lost kids, no injuries, and the Budweiser Clydesdales didn’t bite, stomp, or poop on anyone.

The great thing about this conference, and the National Conference hosted annually by the Smithsonian, is that they are oriented around museums and other cultural institutions, such as libraries and historical properties.  Other conferences, such as the ASIS annual shindig, are huge and cover the whole spectrum of security issues, including securing nuclear facilities.  Not much fissionable material here at the IMA, except Mindy when contractors want to bend safety rules.

Though speakers would frequently wander off into worst-case-scenario land when discussing fires, thefts, and other incidents, it was good to be reminded about all the things that can, and have, gone wrong in cultural institutions due to poor planning and awareness.  The Gardner Museum theft, the largest art theft in history, and the shooting incidents at Columbine and Virginia Tech were often cited as examples of poor or nonexistent planning.

Moving on to the sexy topic of art theft…  Noah Charney, author and founder of ARCA, discussed his views on art theft.  With characters like Dr. No or suave art thieves in movies such as The Thomas Crown Affair and Entrapment, the media tends to perpetuate the pop culture image by only covering the big, attention-getting thefts like at the Gardner Museum and Munch Museum.

In reality, there are few if any Dr. Nos out there.  Common, run-of-the-mill criminals commit the thefts, looking to use art as a means to obtain other things, such as drugs or weapons.  According to research, trade in stolen art ranks third behind drugs and arms.  Organized crime is responsible for the majority of thefts, with the IRA being mentioned as an example of one group who stole art to trade for weapons.

Charney also mentioned an interesting point that stolen antiquities are especially difficult to recover because there are no records to reference.  It is easier to falsify provenance when there are no existing auction records, sales receipts, photos, insurance policies, or loan agreements.  It’s as if the art doesn’t exist until thieves introduce it into the black market.

Steve Layne, Ellie Bruggeman, and Charney all pointed out that employees, volunteers, or others with a special relationship to the institution commit the majority of museum thefts (upwards of 80%).  Bruggeman discussed thefts at the Army Museum in Delft, The Netherlands, where a curator, over a period of several years, had been cutting pages from rare books and was selling them to a shady art dealer.

The speakers also voiced frustration with public perception of art crime as mainly affecting rich people and their frivolous hobbies.  As a result, if a criminal is actually caught they often times merely lose their job only to move to a position in another unsuspecting institution.  Society in general does not see the activity as the theft of our collective “family photo album,” as one speaker put it.

Contemporary art is frequently made up of everyday materials and items familiar to normal, everyday people. As such, visitors are not always sure how to react to the art and oftentimes behave contrary to what we would wish. IMA has artwork composed of everything from TVs (Nam June Paik), projectors (Kara Walker), and common furniture (Vito Acconci, Bill Woodrow) to electronic signs (Jenny Holzer) and neon lights (Robert Irwin, soon). We even have flat art on the floor instead of on the wall (Adrian Schiess). Visitors want to sit on the furniture and play with the electronic equipment. They want to TOUCH the stuff, for crying out loud!

A couple of years ago, we had an exhibition by the Brazilian artist, Ernesto Neto, who’s work illustrates some of the many security-related issues that often have to be addressed with new art. One room of the exhibition was completely covered in red cotton fabric, with thick foam on the floor as a cushy surface to walk on. Inside the room was another conversation area surrounded by more hanging fabric, with chairs, suspended lights, and a notebook with a pencil on a string. There were also several red plastic balls and a giant beanbag chair in the room. It looked like a fantasy playroom, minus the Wii.

The installation was big and complex, and took several late nights for the artist, his assistants, and museum staff to complete. Adjustments had to be made to after-hours procedures to ensure that the workers could get around in the empty and secured building. Stuff had to be turned on, turned off, and unlocked, and Security officers had to be assigned to monitor the late-night activity. It messed with our routine and we’re all about routine.

The red material on the walls, floor, and ceiling looked cool but it completely covered the smoke detectors and sprinklers, not to mention the surveillance cameras and other security devices. Electric cords (heat-producing items) ran under the foam floor and plugged into the wall sockets. The cotton material was not flame retardant, and the foam beads in the giant beanbag were highly flammable. Needless to say, we had to do considerable prep work with local fire officials to placate them and ensure a safe environment for our visitors. I think I even mentioned bribe money at one point.

Once the exhibit was opened, explaining the level of interactivity to patrons was a consistent challenge. Neto’s intentions were for visitors to sit in the chairs, gently roll the balls around, and contemplate the crimson-draped environment. Visitors’ intentions were to set the kids free to play dodge ball in the big red rumpus room. “It’s artwork not a playroom,” was our usual approach. We had to remind many, many people not to throw the balls and not to jump onto the giant beanbag, which experienced daily blowouts due to unauthorized diving. And even though there was a blank notebook with an attached pencil, we discovered that it was not intended for patrons to actually jot notes or comments in the book. Color us confused.

So there you have it. Unlike hanging a painting on the wall, Protection Services plays a significant role throughout the process of acquiring, installing, and displaying contemporary art. Security staff gets to step up and help explain real-world application when curators (and artists) aren’t up on OSHA regulations, and gallery officers get to guide the visitor experience when patrons don’t understand why they can’t play with the stuff in the galleries.

That’s what makes museum security so very interesting. Well, that and all the cool spy stuff we get to use.

The IMA is no different. The museum’s “gallery rules” are rules for proper behavior around the artwork so that the collection is maintained in the best possible condition for generations to come. Most of the rules are common sense, if you stop and think about it. I mean, if Mom won’t let anyone eat pizza on her new sofa, do you think we want anyone near the Monet with a Double Decaf and a sticky bun? Think again, buck-o.

No touching is the Numero Uno rule we have. We humans are such tactile animals that we want to touch everything, from the shiny surface of Donald Judd’s Untitled, 1967 to the rough surface of Robert Indiana’s LOVE sculpture.

I understand, I have those urges too. Nonetheless, we must keep our grubby mitts off the artwork. I may have just swabbed down head to toe with anti-bacterial scrubs before attempting to fondle Augustus Saint-Gaudens’ Diana, but if I can touch it, eventually we’ll have Little Johnny come along with his chubby Reese’s-caked fingers who’ll do a chocolate smear job on the piece. Over time, we’ll have a bazillion people leaving all manner of crap and corruption on our artwork.

No touching includes touching with other items, like pointy writing utensils or umbrellas and canes. Pencils are allowed in the galleries for convenience, but pens should stay in the pocket because ink is more difficult to remove than graphite. Plus, these items can scratch, chip, and rip the art.

There’s a common phrase about a “bull in a china shop” which is a scenario we try to avoid by restricting large bags and backpacks in the galleries, though we accommodate visitors with special needs. I’m telling you, some folks look like they’re ready to tackle a two-day assault on El Cap with the huge packs they carry in. Some folks think we’re worried about theft, which we are, sort of, but mostly we worry about stuff getting knocked over or banged up. Try our FREE coat check and meet officer Pearl Foster.

Photo flash is prohibited for general visitors, though we do allow limited use by the media, with close scrutiny from our Conservation staff. Think back to Mom’s new sofa. If it sat by a sunny window for a few years it would look faded and drab, just like our art would if we allowed flash photography.

Speaking of photography … we only allow photos of our permanent collection, so no pics in the special exhibits or in the third floor Contemporary galleries, and no tripods, bipods, or monopods, thank you. Why, you might ask? Hell, I don’t know. I’d have better luck explaining the Golden Ratio than I would Copyright Law and our Rights & Reproduction guidelines. Suffice it to say that we don’t want photos of our collection showing up in places not of our choosing.

So let’s recap: no food or drink in the galleries, no touching, no large bags or backpacks, no flash photography, and no photos in the special exhibits or Contemporary galleries. There are a few other rules that I’ve skipped, mainly because they don’t come in to play very often, but I’ve hit the big ones. We want everyone to come to our house and check out all the great things we have to offer, we only hope you understand when we ask you to follow our rules.

And that brings me to the topic of blog rules. Despi was kind enough to re-introduce me to them on my last post so this cartoon is dedicated to her benevolent dictatorship. From blogs to blackjack, the house always gets its cut.

The Communication Specialists who work in Control are responsible for monitoring everything and everybody. To accomplish this grand task, Control is equipped with video systems, audio systems, HVAC systems, fire systems, and alarm systems. It has a biometric security system and a multi-channel radio station. It even has a freakin’ drive-up window! I can’t give away all the secret stuff, like the GPS tracking chips we embed in every new staff member, but here’s a little history of the Control Room.

Here I am in the old Control Room sometime back in the 90’s. I spent a lot of years in this room and did some of my best work in there (more about that later).

The room was decked out with sixty-four 8-inch black & white TV monitors and a monochrome alarm computer with the brainpower of a gnat. We had fewer people with radios back then so we only had two channels with which to talk to Security or Maintenance, Housekeeping and Grounds. The room itself was a cracker box, with a two-foot square pillar set dead in the middle of the room. We sat so close to the electronics I swear I’m sterile from all the years of exposure to electro-magnetic radiation.

It was in this room that I created numerous versions of my underground newsletter slash web site in which I gave my sarcastic nature full rein. I made fun of my coworkers, other departments, and all the brilliant decisions management made along the way. Oh, and I made fun of the art. After a comment from Bo Bufore, the IMA’s Shipping and Receiving guru, I created my now well-known cartoon Mindy In Control. Decked out in her security uniform and fuzzy slippers, Mindy (now our new Safety Manager, Mindy Summers) held court from her comfy recliner in the Control Room. She said things no one else dared to utter.

I also created Skeeter & Bubba, the most famous maintenance men in the world, who went on to become the most famous maintenance men on the Internet. Some folks have been here long enough to remember the golden days of my toons being available to the public. Needless to say, I was chastised several times by my superiors and had to periodically pull the stuff from circulation.

In 1999, Control got an upgrade. At the butt-end of the Millennium we finally went to color cameras and monitors. We went from the small B&W monitors to 14-inch and 24-inch monitors. We also got two Gateway computers for processing alarms and for word processing. No more killing trees for paperwork, and no more trying to decipher my partnerʼs handwriting.

Today, the Control Room sports 42-inch flat-screen monitors for viewing our nearly two hundred cameras. The alarm software has been updated. More people carry radios so our radio base station has been upgraded to eight channels. There is Internet access for monitoring weather radar, and there is enough room to play half-court basketball.

Because of all the surveillance equipment, Control is often referred to as Big Brother but we like to think of ourselves as Santa’s helpers, watching who’s being naughty and nice. Either way remember, someone is always watching so be careful where you scratch.