Appropriate for International Day of Play, the goal of each game is to travel across countries and oceans. In The Game of Travel, players draw tickets with a list of locations. On a player’s turn, they proceed to the next location on their ticket. Once they’ve visited each location on the card, they draw a new ticket that takes them on the next leg of the journey. Players win by visiting Constantinople (now Istanbul) and returning to the United States. Named after historian and children’s book author Hendrik Van Loon, the Wide World Game was released almost 40 years after The Game of Travel. Fittingly, given its title, the game features a wider world than its predecessor. While The Game of Travel restricts players to Europe and the Atlantic Ocean, the later game’s routes take players across every continent except Antarctica. Here, the goal is to be the first to travel from San Francisco to Manila. The Wide World Game follows the same basic flow of moving between cities according to one’s tickets.

Both games were influenced by the increasing availability of international travel around the turn of the 20th century. Alongside technological developments and Gilded Age economic changes, the number of issued U.S. passports increased significantly in the late 19th century. Steamships and trains made travel more accessible to a growing middle class. Such methods of travel are highlighted in the games through an unusual feature. The Game of Travel has players swap out their moving marker according to the method of travel: a train when traveling by land, a ship if by sea. Since the games are so similar, though, it’s interesting to see where they differ. The wide world changed between 1894 and 1933. By the 1930s, there were several commercial airlines in the U.S., and with new forms of travel come changes to the rules. The Game of Travel requires players to move one city at a time, but the airplane in the newer game lets players move through as many as six cities in a single turn!

Guests could appreciate many things about the games if we showcased them in a display. The Game of Travel is a beautiful production. Its cover features painterly illustrations of attractive destinations like the canals of Venice and England’s Windsor Castle. Its metal steamships shimmer in the light. The Wide World Game’s stylized world map appears hand-drawn with vibrant colors. I’m sure guests would be delighted to see them. With interpretive labels, we could provide some information about the games’ rules and historical context. But games are meant to be played.

To be clear, not even I get to play the games in our collection. This is for good reason, although I’m often dying to give the games a try. For one, many of them are fragile. The Game of Travel was printed more than 100 years ago, and it shows. The board is coming off in flakes, leaving holes in eastern Europe. We wear gloves when handling artifacts not just to protect the objects, but also to protect ourselves. The malleability of the steamship tokens hints that they are likely made of toxic metals, and paint used in the Wide World Game is probably also dangerous. So, how can we have guests engage with these historic games without putting them or the games at risk?

We chose to create our own versions of each game. Making the copies required collaboration between multiple teams at the museum. First, I scanned the games’ boards and cards and sent the scans off to Corinna, one of our public programs coordinators, to fabricate those components. They pasted the boards to a large piece of cardboard and printed out and laminated the cards. Meanwhile, Martin, our arcade game conservation technician, began 3D printing trains, planes, and ships using a resin printer. Martin’s trains are a real highlight, featuring little linked cars that follow behind the locomotive. After laminating the cards and sealing the boards, our more robust versions of the games were ready to be played with by childhood hands.

Our International Day of Play programming was a success. I delivered a small presentation showcasing the original games, along with some other travel-themed games and puzzles, while our associate curator Natalie gave a fascinating talk about postcards and souvenirs. The reproduced games were available to play all day. The preservation of board games is important. Researchers come from across the globe to study our collection. But there are probably very few living people who’ve actually played these games. I’m excited that we gave our visitors a chance to join that exclusive group.

The post Recreating 100-Year-Old Games for International Day of Play appeared first on The Strong National Museum of Play.

Teamwork itself is always very useful no matter what you’re trying to accomplish, be it at work, school, home or in a particular hobby. Having the help and insights of others can make an immense positive difference in achieving one’s goals. What, then, does teamwork look like at The Strong, when staff are working to convey a sense of “playfulness” in collections items? For one thing, no single individual, team or department ever works alone when developing an exhibition or preparing an item for display. While museums may sometimes appear to be quiet, static, and sedentary places, the reality behind the scenes is far more engaging and dynamic. Just as a wind-up toy needs many different gears and mechanisms to waddle around, so too do museums need many different professionals and perspectives to best preserve the personality of their collection items. This is especially true at The Strong, whose collection consists not merely of toys, games, and dolls, but also the myriad memories of countless people who have enjoyed playing with them in the past. Infusing these items with the life given to them by previous owners, as well as the vitality provided by present-day guests, is an all-hands on deck assignment: curators, conservators, exhibit designers, graphic designers, fabricators, and more all have an indispensable role to play in making displayed artifacts “playful” again, and every aspect of a given exhibit reflects this collaborative process.

The careful preservation and safe storage of an on-display Barbie doll, for instance, is dependent on the diligent work of the collections manager and the museum conservator, who themselves work hand in hand with curators in selecting the doll for exhibition, staging her display case for view, and thoughtfully writing her label text for visitors to read. The display case itself, having had its dimensions established by the exhibit designer and the collections team, is constructed by museum fabricators. Those skillful craftspeople then go on to build from scratch the entire surrounding exhibition environment: the Barbie dolls mount, interactive signs and stands, extra-big video game screens and controllers. These creations themselves are further dependent on the imaginative preparation of exhibition designers, who collaborate with all of the aforementioned team members, along with museum graphic designers, to forge from nothing a gallery space worthy of a playthings cherished memories. The pathways, lighting, sounds, colors, and sensations of the entire space are visualized and carefully planned in unison with a wide range of museum professionals to create a truly unique and intimately engaging experience, within which even the oldest items take on a life of their own once more.

Even when considering all this inter-team collaboration, however, the collection items of The Strong still require a bit more creativity to truly shine as intended, and in achieving this extra bit of authenticity, one must always think outside the box. Indeed, when attempting to capture, preserve, and celebrate a playful object’s life, play itself as both a personal and universal experience must always take center stage. For some objects in the collection, this means actually being played with, despite still being museum artifacts. The classic games of Infinity Arcade and the intricate machines of Pinball Playfields are all examples of collections items which have taken on a new, active life at play within the museum. For the items which can’t be as seamlessly or safely interacted with by our guests, one must get creative. In my experience, even the smallest of details can help infuse a game, doll, or toy with an entirely unique sense of playful vitality. Sometimes, that means something as simple as leaving a promotional tag or sticker on the box of a video game; those who remember purchasing or interacting with their own copies can be taken back in time by those minor details and rediscover that exhilarating sense of excitement only a new game release can inspire. Other times, it means leaving the scribbled name of a previous owner on a displayed action figure. Although new generations may not have had their own versions of this figure to connect with, being able to witness firsthand the wear and tear of a much beloved toy imparts a fundamentally humanizing sensation to visitors, elevating this item beyond that of some stuffy and inaccessible museum artifact, and into one which relates directly to the sentiments and experiences of one’s own life. In each of these ways, the collection items of The Strong do not merely survive but thrive in a dynamic new setting for all—museum staff and guests alike—to enjoy.

By: Mark Walsh, 2025 Strong Intern

The post How Play Is Preserved appeared first on The Strong National Museum of Play.

I have been supervising and training interns for more than 20 years and all of them have been equally important and special to me. There is nothing that beats the bright-eyed excitement that comes over a student’s face on their first few days at their internship. Everything is so fresh, new, and exciting to them. That fresh viewpoint also always rejuvenates my perspective on my job and career thus far. It also reminds me of how challenging it was to be a student. While juggling a full course load each semester, I also worked full time and completed various internships. Back then, most of my internships were not beneficial to me. I was often doing very mundane ‘“grunt” work that my supervisor clearly had no interest in doing themselves. Some supervisors often didn’t discuss tough topics with me like the reality of the challenge of finding a job or the historically low pay museum employees typically receive. We also never covered important topics like museum ethics or disaster preparedness planning. All of my undergraduate internships were also unpaid (I completed six in total). Thankfully, a lot of this has changed for internships in the museum field and are no longer considered free labor that is beneficial only to the institution.

As an internship supervisor now at The Strong Museum, I do my utmost to make sure every internship is customized to the student, so they receive the best experience possible while at the museum. Some students come to us with tons of experience working in museums and others have none. Some are graduate students and others are undergraduates in their first few semesters. These examples already prove that not every internship should be administered in the same way—one size does not fit all because a student’s needs and interests will vary. One of the perks of my current job as a conservator being so closely intertwined with our Collections Team is that it allows the flexibility of creating a multidisciplinary internship. Typically, interns working with Collections and Conservation at The Strong get to participate in a variety of projects based on their interests, career goals, and previous experience. While there are some very foundational projects every intern gets to participate in (cataloguing, building custom housing, performing a treatment on a collections item, etc.), there is also the opportunity to work on longer range projects (planning for new collections storage spaces, exhibition development, etc.). In either scenario, interns always get to work collaboratively with a variety of teams at the museum. In addition to the hands-on experience, I also choose supplemental discussion topics for each week for the duration of the internship, to cover items we might not get the opportunity to experience directly in our projects. Some topics we discuss include learning about the American Alliance of Museums and the accreditation process, the Code of Ethics and Guidelines for Conservators from the American Institute for Conservation, learning how to negotiate and research salary data, and professional development where writing cover letters and curriculum vitae/resumes are reviewed. Interns also get the opportunity to have meet and greets with other colleagues at the museum to ask questions about their backgrounds, current job responsibilities, and their story of how they ended up at The Strong. Again, there is no one path for working in a museum, so the wider net of options that can be cast for an intern, the more positive reinforcement and encouragement they have for proceeding with their career path.

One of the most rewarding aspects of my life has always been working with interns. Education and training have been a cornerstone of my own career, and I’m always happy to help any student any way I possibly can. I try my best to ensure that younger generations are better equipped with foundational knowledge and have a well-rounded internship experience, while learning and gaining practical training. Nothing makes me prouder then when interns stay in touch after their internships are over and continue to share their positive news about getting into their PhD program of choice or landing their first job!

So if you or anyone you know is currently an undergraduate or graduate student looking for an internship to gain experience working in a museum, I highly recommend applying to The Strong’s Internship program. Applicants are typically placed based on the academic year (spring, fall, and summer semesters), so we are always accepting applications. For more information or to discuss a possible internship with Conservation or Collections, please feel free to contact me directly – gdunn@museumofplay.org.

The post The Value of Interns and Museums: Creating Pathways to Careers in Museums appeared first on The Strong National Museum of Play.

In 1972, Bally Manufacturing Co. released Bally Hill Climb. Hill Climb is an electromechanical racing game in which the player controls a miniature neon pink dirt bike riding up a steep hill. Although the game has been in the museum’s collection since 2018, it has never been available for the public to play until this year. This game, and many other games like it, have been used exclusively for exhibition purposes due to the age of the game, condition, and the extreme difficulty of finding replacement parts. Hill Climb itself had a few condition issues that needed to be addressed. The player-controlled bike was in rough shape—the bike’s blown plastic shell was cracked and warped due to age. To remedy this, the shell was removed and scanned using a RevoPoint Pop 3 3D scanner, which allowed the capture of the complex geometry of the plastic part.

The 3D model was then uploaded to the museum’s Prusia SL1s SLA 3D printer and printed in Prusiament Rich Black UV Resin. Once printed, the part was cleaned, and cured in a heated bath of isopropyl alcohol, followed by UV light exposure in the Prusia CW1S. The reproduced shell was then painted by the conservator to match the original, including considering the original bike’s efflorescence effect under the game’s special black light feature. The original plastic shell was then placed in an acid free box in collections storage, while our easily replaceable 3D-printed copy faces the terrain in Bally Hill Climb.

It can be tempting to integrate new technologies into many collections, but we must first ask the question, “Does this modification allow us to preserve the experience of the game in a meaningful way?” Similarly, should we put a flat screen TV in a game that originally had a CRT monitor? Or should we replace the original mechanical score reels in a game with a digital display? And lastly, should we replace original painted artwork with a printed replica? Most of the time, the answer to these questions is no. These kinds of modifications do allow for easier preservation and extension to the life of a game, but the cost is that the gameplay no longer preserves the original experience. There may come a time when we can no longer maintain this aging equipment but, as a lab dedicated to preservation and conservation, we must do our best to keep new and old technology

By: Zach Fischer, Assistant to the Arcade Game Conservation Technician

The post Maximizing Authenticity with New Arcade Preservation and Conservation Methods appeared first on The Strong National Museum of Play.

The start of each week usually entails a walkthrough of the museum’s exhibits for some routine maintenance and check-ins with the exhibit cases. Depending on the day, we either clean the outer glass or unlock the cases to dust and vacuum the displays inside. Doing this so often has made me quite familiar with the collections throughout the museum, and I’ve stumbled upon some hidden gems and really cool objects! Something that has stuck out to me is how many teams are involved in maintaining the appearance and condition of the displays: there’s conservation of course, but the facilities, environmental services, exhibits, and collections teams are involved too depending on what needs to be done.

Some days I head down to our collections storage areas to help unpack or move large amounts of objects packed away in cardboard boxes. The collections storage at The Strong is massive, spanning multiple rooms that each seem to go on forever, full of rows and rows of floor-to-ceiling shelving. These shelves are (neatly) stacked with board games, arcade games, pinball machines, stuffed animals, dolls, dollhouses, action figures, electronic games, game consoles, handmade toys, costumes… the list is endless. Each time I am in collections storage, I notice a new object relating to a toy I enjoyed as a child, or a unique antique collectible, or a board game with a bewildering theme. I also often get reminded of my age when I’m there, as many franchise toys and video games peaked in popularity before I was even born (I regret to admit I didn’t really know what Atari was until working here). The overwhelming feeling is just how many fascinating and incredible objects the museum owns. The Strong shows off an enormous number of objects in its exhibits. However, like most museums, only about 5 percent of the total collection is on display at a given time. This fact only magnifies the significant impact The Strong has made in the world of toys and games, serving as a center for collecting and preserving the history of play. Its massive collection and thousands of acquisitions each year speaks to the dedication of the museum to its mission and all the work and planning that goes into maintaining such a powerhouse of history.

I usually spend my afternoons on individual projects in the conservation lab that I work in. These projects have been on the smaller side but have enabled me to learn a ton of hands-on skills that I had never tried before. My favorite has been the treatment of two 1960s Barbies that both had a whole slew of problems. Sticky plasticizer—a material used in plastics to make them flexible—on the surface was the biggest one, which required meticulous attention to remove using a special solvent and hand-rolled cotton swabs. The dolls’ tiny accessories had been repaired by the previous owner with very old tape and fraying string, all of which had to be fixed very carefully. Their hair was disheveled too, which made it fun to mix up custom plant-based “hair gel” and reshape their original curls. I have also worked on rehousing miniature paper and plastic food items into custom-made archival boxes with individual compartments for each item. That task required a lot of X-Acto knife work! I’ve also helped to retouch an old arcade game cabinet with reversible paint, set up conservation-themed activities for a summer camp, and more.

I spend the time in between meetings and individual projects by cataloging recent acquisitions, such as tons of Rubik’s Cube paraphernalia or scanning historical treatment reports for digitization. I also have regular discussions with the Conservator about the field of art conservation, which includes topics such as common practices, recent controversies, professional development, and more. Some days, I’ve had brief chats with various other departments, which has allowed me to learn a lot about the different careers and possibilities within the museum field.

Since the museum’s mission, audience, and collections are so multifaceted and diverse, there is lots to do all the time. I haven’t even mentioned the more audience-facing teams, such as public programs, marketing, graphic design, and exhibits fabrication! From my brief time here, I have seen many instances where the collaborative nature of the museum has propelled many projects forward. It has been a joy to work here and see behind-the-scenes at such a large museum, and I will remember my experiences for many years to come!

By Dina Garber, 2024 Strong Museum Intern

The post A Day in the Life of a Conservation Undergraduate Intern appeared first on The Strong National Museum of Play.

What is Conservation?

Conservation encompasses all the actions taken toward the long-term care of cultural heritage. Activities include examination, documentation, treatment, and preventive care, supported by research and education. Conservators are the trained professionals who execute these actions. Conservators typically help to preserve the original work, in conjunction with adding materials or making repairs as part of treatment, which are typically reversible. The age of the piece and the artist’s original intent are influential factors in treatment planning. 

What is Preservation?

Preservation is the protection of cultural property through activities that minimize chemical and physical deterioration and avoids damage to prevent loss of informational content. The primary goal of preservation is to prolong the existence of cultural property. Preservation can include activities like monitoring light levels and environments, including temperature and humidity. A popular use of this term refers to the steps taken to preserve or save historic architecture and the built environment.

What is Restoration?

Restoration is actually a type of treatment performed by a conservator, that is intended to return cultural property to a known or assumed state, often based on historical research or a specific time period of a piece that was negatively “restored” previously. The easiest way I often explain restoration to someone is that it’s the type of work that is often done to old gas pumps, gumball machines, or vintage cars. Things can be stripped down, scraped, repainted, and made to look like “as new” or “as manufactured,” which typically isn’t the goal of treatment by a conservator. Cultural property should reflect its age and history and treatment should incorporate these aspects. In recent popular culture, there have been quite a few international examples of bad restorations performed by untrained people with good intentions that wildly circulated the internet. These are always great examples to use when speaking to people about conservation, because it sets a very clear and digestible example of what can go wrong when an item isn’t cared for by a trained professional.   

To Further Complicate Things…

“Restorer” is often the term used in Europe or for European trained conservators. Restorer can also be used to designate a person who takes things to an “as new” or “as manufactured” state in the U.S. “Conservator” is often used as the preferred term in the U.S. or to refer to trained conservators in North America. U.S.-based conservators typically have far more training and experience than someone operating as a restorer in the United States. That may mean they also have a difference in their ethics and methods. When in doubt on what type of professional you may need or for more information on conservation, I always recommend folks visit the American Institute for Conservation’s (AIC) webpage, or I suggest that they find a trained conservation professional to ask advice. Or to hire a trained professional conservator for a project, it can be worth visiting  AIC’s Find a Conservator Page.  

The post What’s In A Name….Well, A Lot Actually, Especially When It Comes to Conservation, Preservation, and Restoration appeared first on The Strong National Museum of Play.

Start with the Simple Stuff

Preventive conservation doesn’t require a ton of work, expenses, or complicated care strategies. With simple active routines and cost-effective measures, the agents of deterioration can easily be kept at bay. Taking proper care of even a small to medium-sized collection can seem daunting or like an infinite job, but an active approach to preventive care is the best way to spread finite resources. Start by getting to know your building, inside and out, and identify what potential risks can be mitigated. Regularly check windows, doors, and roofs and repair any issues before they become large or costly. Spend physical time in exhibition and collections storage spaces regularly and become familiar with your collections items. Monitor temperature and humidity, keeping both at stable levels, while avoiding wild swings as much as possible. If you are comfortable in a space, more often than not a collections item will be as well. Keep collection storage spaces clean and neat and dispose of garbage regularly. This will also deter pests from entering your collection storage spaces, which will shorten the time spent executing your integrated pest management program. Do not overcrowd storage spaces and, when necessary, use archival housing and materials to safely store collections items including proper labels. Keep a regular maintenance and dusting/vacuuming schedule for exhibition and collection storage spaces. Monitor light levels and never allow contact with direct sunlight.

Plan Ahead

Have an active collections care policy and disaster response plan, and make them living documents that are revised as new staff or volunteers join or exhibits rotate. Practice ”disaster scenarios” to keep staff involved with the emergency response process. Strong policies are the backbone to any good preventive program. Make sure adequate supplies/materials are available on-site for disasters and emergencies and replace items when necessary. Train all staff, interns, and volunteers on proper handling, exhibiting, packing, and transporting of collections.   

With a little bit of thoughtful planning, and adding in proactive policies and strategies, a lot can be done to preserve and easily extend the lives of our collections.

The post Preventive Conservation: Preserving Entire Collections for the Long Term appeared first on The Strong National Museum of Play.

Are gloves necessary for handling collections? 

As part of my job as conservator at The Strong, I have the pleasure of providing collections training to new staff members who will be working directly with the museum’s artifacts.  My last blog covered hazardous materials in collections, which is another topic I cover in the training, but one of the more important topics we discuss is the museum’s policy for wearing gloves while handling the collection.  But why wear gloves?  At The Strong, we wear gloves to handle the collection because of the diversity of our objects (we have items that have various components including metals, plastics, electronics, wood, film, photographs, etc.), for the safety of those handling the objects (unidentified dirt/debris, mold, hazardous materials, etc.), and for the long-term preservation of our collection (a fingerprint on the right surface can actually be permanently etched in over time).  However, there are a few exceptions for our staff to wearing gloves:  handling two-dimensional works on paper and what we call “use-ifacts.”  Gloves are not necessary for handling two-dimensional works on paper due to their inherent fragile nature and the need for the highest tactile ability for the handler. Typically, freshly washed and dried hands are suggested for handling two-dimensional works on paper.  Gloves are also not worn for use-ifacts, which are items in our collections that guests actually get to interact with and play when they come to the museum.  Use-ifacts include items like our pinball and arcade games.  Books are also often the other exception to the rule for wearing gloves, however the decision to wear gloves or not for books usually comes down to the handler’s preference. Again, typically freshly washed and dried hands are suggested for handling books.  For me personally, unless the book is extremely fragile or difficult to handle, I will wear gloves for handling.  Often, books come into conservation for cleaning, which means there is an unidentified material that needs to be removed.  Sometimes that unidentified material is just dust or grime, other times it could possibly be mold.  So, I often choose to be protective of myself and the book by wearing gloves. 

What type of glove to wear?

White cotton gloves were the museum standard for decades.  They were easy to come by, cost effective, and could be washed and reused.  Cotton gloves however, can snag on textured surfaces or fragile areas and actually cause significant damage.  They also do not provide a good grip for items with smooth or slick surfaces or when something is heavy.  With modern research and changing practices, nitrile gloves have now become the museum standard.  Why wear nitrile gloves you might ask?  They are made of a synthetic rubber that does not irritate many people’s hands (unlike latex, which many people are allergic to).  They provide the most dexterity for handling objects safely and will not snag on fragile surfaces of objects.  They also protect the handler from dirt/debris or toxic materials on/in objects and can easily be disposed of. 

Summary

My personal rule of thumb for handling anything in a collection—especially if there’s ever a question of whether to glove or not to glove—I often tell colleagues that wearing gloves is usually your best bet (and safest).  Exceptions may include two-dimensional paper-based collections and books, in which case freshly washed and dried hands are recommended.       

The post To Glove or Not to Glove: Wearing Gloves for Collections appeared first on The Strong National Museum of Play.

Where to begin in identifying a potential hazardous material…  

While it might seem overwhelming to determine where to start with identifying potentially hazardous materials in a museum’s collection, a simple visual assessment is a great place to begin. Knowing the basic history or time period of an artifact will also help narrow down potential candidates. While the only method to truly confirm/deny the presence of a hazardous material is to perform scientific analysis, when in doubt it is always best practice to take precautions and handle/treat the artifact as if it contains hazardous substances. Keeping staff safe, as well as assuring the safety of the artifact, is always the best policy. Let’s begin with some more obvious places to start….

Pesticides

Early on in museums, historic collections were sometimes treated with pesticides to prevent pest infestations from occurring while items were in storage. Additionally, some products are typically treated with pesticides during the manufacturing process. For both scenarios, items to look for could include furniture, furs, wigs, textiles, insect specimens, and ethnographic collections. 

Heavy Metals

Some historic pigments for artist’s materials contained heavy metals (such as lead white and cadmium red). Colorants in more modern plastics and rubbers could also contain these types of pigments. Historically, taxidermy was often prepared with lead soaps. Other items to look for could include geological specimens, mercury thermometers, mercury mirrors, lead-tin toys, some items associated with 19th century dyes (cloth-covered books might have copper arsenic), mercury felted hats, and lead-weighted silk fabrics.

Cellulose Nitrate & Celluloid

Early plastics such as celluloid, were made from cellulose nitrate, which upon degradation produces nitric acid which can be highly unstable and combustible. Celluloid was also used as a less expensive substitute for tortoiseshell or ivory. Other celluloid items to look for could include combs, fans, hairbrushes, toys, animation cels, and photographic film made before 1951.  

Asbestos & Fiberglass

Both asbestos and fiberglass are more modern materials, but they were popular and widely used in construction and in artist materials in the 1940s and 1950s. Both have also been used industrially since the mid 1800s.  Other items to look for could include electrical wires or components, flame retardant materials, gas mask filters from World War II to the 1960s , and brake pads.

Pharmaceuticals, Patent Medicines, & Household Items

Items like makeup, medical-based collections, soaps, and perfumes may have been produced with materials that would be harmful if touched or ingested, or may produce noxious chemicals upon degradation. Other items to look for could include batteries of any type, household cleaning products, and electrical condensers.  

Radioactive Objects & Specimens

Items produced during certain periods could contain radioactive elements that were widely popular for common items. During World War I, “‘Radium Girls” painted luminous watch faces with uranium-based paint and uranium glass was used for for cups and bowls. Other items to look for could include geological specimens, clocks, watches, glass, ceramics, and cloisonné jewelry.

Explosive & Pressurized Objects

Possibly more straightforward to identify, firearms and ammunition of any sort should be handled with caution. Pressurized objects run the risk of exploding, especially if artifacts are not kept in environmentally controlled conditions. Other items to look for could include firecrackers, fire extinguishers, and any type of pressurized container (shaving cream, soda, spray paint,).

How to Handle the Object Once It Is Identified as Hazardous…  

This may include the use of proper personal protective equipment (PPE) such as a Tyvek suit, half-face respirator with HEPA particulate filter, Nitrile gloves, and protective eyewear. Strategies may need to be adapted on a case-by-case basis, in order to apply the appropriate methods for handling, transport, and storage of the artifact. One basic step involves placing hazardous artifacts in boxes or containers with easy-to-read labels and directions while they are in storage.

Museums that use collection management software to track and catalog their collections can add in a section to flag an item as hazardous so that anyone working with the collection in the future will have easy access to that information. Thinking about how the artifact should be used going forward is likewise important. Perhaps it no longer can be loaned, is used only for in-house exhibitions where it would need an enclosed vitrine for display, or maybe it’s only used as a study piece. Appropriate handling of objects with hazardous materials always calls for applying best judgement and, when necessary, contacting a Hazardous Materials Specialist or a local Conservator to answer any questions you may have. Keep an active list of hazardous materials in the collection in case of an emergency situation. Be sure to prepare for the worst-when damages, leaks, or another immediate issues may arise to the artifact, have a plan of action in how to deal with it. In some cases, a Hazardous Material Company may need to be contacted to come safely pick up and dispose of the material.

With foresight to identify hazardous materials in their collections, thoughtful storage strategies, and suitable procedures in place, museums can have confidence that they are doing their utmost to maintain their collections in ways that assure the safety of both the objects and their staff members.

The post Hazardous Materials in Collections appeared first on The Strong National Museum of Play.

The once pejorative term “walking simulator” was often deployed to single out video games that bucked the trend of delivering a fast-paced, action-packed, adrenaline-pumping experience with clear-cut rules and goals and instead opted for making video games organized by a thin set of rules and optional tasks in favor of open-ended wandering and exploration. These days, walking simulators show promise as they rise in popularity, signaling an important shift in interest among developers and gamers alike toward nuance, discovery, and emergent narratives. With these types of games gaining traction alongside our ever-expanding digital lives, I couldn’t help but see the similarities between today’s open-ended digital wandering and Charles Baudelaire’s notion of the 19th century Parisian street stroller, the flâneur.

To understand this connection better, I started thinking about simulation games, particularly life simulations. I wondered what could be revealed through tracing their origins from the perspective of visual design, aesthetics, and world-building in terms of gauging the ways that place, space, and landscape figure into video games and players can wander around within them. I wondered: how are playable spaces modeled after their physical counterparts? How are first- and third-person perspectives utilized to encourage understanding and engagement with the environment and its objects? How are playable game spaces, like 19th century Paris, at once excitingly novel and ideologically familiar? Through The Strong Research Fellowship, I was able to access game designers’ planning papers, sketches, notes, and sheets of code to gain valuable insights into how certain video games were made and what the trajectory of video game design entails through the lens of visual culture.

The origins of the walking simulator run deep and ironically coincide with the first-person shooters and high-octane fueled AAA games embraced by its critics. While looking through The Strong’s America’s Army papers, I was surprised to discover one of their common roots is the war simulator. The planning notes for this game confirmed a mutual interest in verisimilitude and a consistent subjective narrative perspective (sometimes coupled by a first-person camera) to simulate the experience of being in, not just seeing or engaging in, the world of the game. Much of this was concerned with providing a formal fidelity through the visual accuracy of weaponry, tactical training, and other Army-insider details—with the goal of evoking, but of course not replicating, certain spaces and sometimes real-life war zones. Additionally, visual realism lends texture and authenticity while communicating the use-value of certain objects and paths. Along with this, I became curious about what gets lost in a re-enactment. For many war simulation games, the shift from paper to software amplified the possibilities for realism, exciting a sector of war game enthusiasts who made the transition. War games that predate the sophisticated realism of America’s Army focused on traversable space in the form of maps.

Another important focus of my research is understanding the development and use of the game’s camera—how it behaves like a film camera and imparts the language of cinema into the game’s scenes while informing certain gameplay decisions and delineating parameters of action. Other features are more indexical, helping the player calibrate situations in the game world, such as with the use of artificial light to reference the passing of time and establish object relations.  Prince of Persia creator Jordan Mechner’s notes and Sierra On-Line’s Roberta Williams’s papers helped synthesize the relations between cinema, computer software, and video games through direct allusions to the moving image pioneer Eadweard Muybridge and the integration of live action, respectively. Given their abstract dimensions, it became clear to me that many simulation games’ reliance on film language provides a way to overcome the obstacle of recreating reality, delivering an accessible version of it that is instead reliant on a system of signs and signifiers that represent it.

As I continue to work through my notes and documentation collected during my two weeks as a Strong Research Fellow, I’m discovering critical details and insights that are shaping my research project in new and unexpected ways. I’m grateful for the knowledgeable and accommodating staff—a perfect mix of librarians, archivists, and curators—who helped kick off this research.

By Natasha Chuk, 2021 Strong Research Fellow, Independent Scholar, New York, NY

The post Simulation, Photography, and Flâneurie In Video Games appeared first on The Strong National Museum of Play.