Sustainable Museums--Brainstorming in Taiwan and Japan

The Osaka Human Rights Museum (OHRM) is located in a quiet corner of Naniwa Ward in central Osaka, next to a government housing project built specifically for burakumin residents. The burakumin are Japan's version of the hereditary underclasses found in class societies throughout the world. Under the rigid class system in place in Japan over a thousand years ago, the Ritsuryo code made a distinction between freemen (ryoumin) and slaves (senmin). Over time, the meaning of senmin changed from "slaves" to "undesirables," an underclass engaged in unclean occupations; they worked as butchers, for example, or as executioners charged with the task of lopping the heads off convicts and displaying them to the public. Their fate in life differs in no way from that experienced by the untouchables under India's caste system. For people such as these, who go through life as despised minorities, there is no such thing as human dignity.

The issue of the burakumin is one of the main themes of the Osaka Museum of Human Rights. The photos show charts in the museum illustrating the class system of ancient Japan.

Strong man, weak man

According to OHRM director Yoshikazu Akisada, opposition to burakumin marrying outside their class remains common today, and many a tragedy has resulted. The museum has collected many news stories and historical artifacts to acquaint visitors with burakumin life.

In addition to the burakumin, the museum also has exhibits and organizes activities that focus on women's issues and problems faced by individuals with disabilities. When he met with the Taiwanese delegation, Akisada shared his thoughts about Taiwan's Mutanshe Incident, thus displaying a broad and penetrating familiarity with human rights issues throughout Asia.

Because his museum champions human rights, Akisada is frequently approached by human rights groups seeking support for various activities. The OHRM, however, has a policy against participating in advocacy movements, so all he can do is give encouragement and ask for such groups' understanding. Akisada confides, "Sometimes I really don't know how to handle that kind of situation."

High ideals cannot be achieved without sound planning. By chronicling the development of democracy and human rights in Japan and pushing for acceptance of human rights concepts, the OHRM fills a social need and performs an educational function. Nevertheless, annual visitors have declined steadily from the 70 or 80 thousand that stopped through when the museum first opened 20 years ago. Public and private support have fallen off too, and the OHRM is in danger of closing down. With facilities and exhibits showing signs of age, plans have been drawn up for a third renovation, but the necessary funds are nowhere in sight. For Akisada and his volunteer staff of 19, this latter problem is no doubt an even bigger headache than that of how to say "no" to human rights groups.

The Osaka Museum of Human Rights very much relies on realism to depict the former life of the burakumin. Lifelike sculptures and models recreate many aspects of their life in times gone by.

Learning from others

The OHRM is not unique in the problems it faces. CCA vice commissioner Wu Mi-cha, who headed the delegation to Japan, notes that while Japan's museums are well advanced in such areas as museum administration, collection management, and the use of volunteers, many have nevertheless had problems holding onto support over the long haul. The Japanese experience is very instructive for museums in Taiwan still enjoying the heady excitement of a new social trend.

The development of museums in Japan has more or less tracked the state of the Japanese economy. As Japan emerged from the depression of the immediate post-war years into the boom times that followed, the country plunged headlong into the building of museums (mostly public). The trend was especially pronounced in the go-go 1980s. But then the economy overheated and collapsed. Public and private funding sources grew cautious, and museums (today numbering 5300, or one for every 25,000 people) were forced to tighten their belts.

The Osaka Museum of Human Rights very much relies on realism to depict the former life of the burakumin. Lifelike sculptures and models recreate many aspects of their life in times gone by.

Gearing for competition

Nobuhiro Takahashi, head of the General Affairs Bureau of the Japan Association of Museum Management, points out that even public museums in Japan are working hard to introduce private-sector management methods in order to avoid the sclerotic limitations of the public sector. Museums have also adopted marketing methods to bolster management and become more competitive.

Although Taiwan's high tide of museum openings is a more recent phenomenon, museums here are also familiar with the pain of cuts in public funding from a government feeling the pinch of falling tax revenues. Prior experience in Japan has spurred increasingly spirited public discourse in Taiwan on museum management, touching on such subjects as public-private partnerships, outsourced management, and reorganization of government-run museums as separate legal entities. But it has yet to be demonstrated that the strength of the private sector is actually a guarantee of sustainability.

The Osaka Museum of Human Rights very much relies on realism to depict the former life of the burakumin. Lifelike sculptures and models recreate many aspects of their life in times gone by.

Meeting the needs of the public

Nobuhiro Takahashi argues that cultural development must focus on the people. "At the level of a community, for example, we need to ask what the main cultural resources of the community are, and what kind of museum it needs. If we can build consensus on such questions, local residents will give strong support, by visiting the museum and by serving as volunteers. That's the only way museums can be sustainable."

After many years spent providing management guidance to museums, Takahashi has this to say: "If a museum is to last, it must spring from fertile ground; the public has to identify what its cultural resources are. This understanding has to build into a shared feeling that pervades the community. And then this ambient has to crystallize into a museum."

In December 2001, Japan enacted the Basic Law for Revitalization of Culture and Art, thereby identifying their revitalization as a matter of national policy. But in spite of the new law, some museums still face unresolved problems, and news of museums being sold or closed is frequent. It is thus apparent that laws and government agencies lack the power to make culture any better than it is, or to reverse the fortunes of poorly run museums.

To attract visitors, the Museum of Human Rights only charges ￥250 (about NT$70) for an ordinary entrance ticket, while students only pay ￥150. The museum also often participates in school teaching activities.

A tale of two museums

The coastal town of Echizen is located on the Japan Sea side of Honshu Island in Fukui Prefecture. Fukui is a favorite destination of summer travelers, who come to enjoy the abundant seafood, especially the delicious snow crabs. The Echizen Crab Museum was opened there in an effort to enhance the area's appeal to tourists. The museum features a wide-ranging collection of crabs and other crustaceans, presented in many different ways to give visitors a better understanding of the habits and habitats of the crustaceans of Echizen and elsewhere.

Yet the visitors haven't showed up in the expected numbers. The museum has a particularly deserted air in the winter off-season. A towering fish tank and circular theater have been built at huge expense, but lifelike exhibits and a clever design concept haven't been enough to draw people in. What they do mean to the museum's operators, however, is huge maintenance expenses and high mortgage payments. Hopes of using a cultural undertaking to spur tourism have come to naught.

Kazuhisa Mitamura, who has taken over recently as head of the museum's General Affairs Bureau and is working to improve museum management, confides: "Since taking over four months ago, sometimes the pressure has been so great I haven't been able to get to sleep at night."

The crab museum in Fukui naturally reminds Taiwanese visitors of the crab museum in Ilan County, in the town of Peikuan. Although privately run and quite small, the museum has won kudos for its well-conceived design and the tremendously skilled making of its specimens. The crab specimens, in particular, preserve the animals' original gray-green color. Even scholars specializing in the study of crustaceans come to the museum to learn how to do it. Uniqueness and a clear sense of the museum's role have enabled the crab museum of Peikuan to survive nicely without outside support.

More so than its counterpart in Echizen, the museum in Peikuan is one that the locals in Ilan strongly identify with. It has even made the local area more attractive to tourists, which was never even envisioned when the museum first opened.

When told about the museum in Peikuan, Mitamura's face lit up: "Really? I sure would like to go and take a look."

Museums in Echizen and Peikuan focusing on the same theme have achieved different results, and in the process may well have given us some clues about what it takes to run a viable museum. With the number of museums rapidly climbing, it would behoove our museums to slow down and think hard about this tale of two museums.

To give visitors a deeper understanding of the importance of human rights, the museum maintains a large collection of historical materials and news reports.

To give visitors a deeper understanding of the importance of human rights, the museum maintains a large collection of historical materials and news reports.

To give visitors a deeper understanding of the importance of human rights, the museum maintains a large collection of historical materials and news reports.

To give visitors a deeper understanding of the importance of human rights, the museum maintains a large collection of historical materials and news reports.

The Echizen Crab Museum has an impressive exterior. The main domed structure in the shape of the crab's carapace is the museum, while the adjacent building houses a supermarket that mainly sells seafood, making it handy for both tourism and shopping.

With its huge, elaborate aquaria, specimens and models of seabed ecology, Echizen Crab Museum was built with borrowed funds in the hope of boosting local tourism, but instead has become a drain on local government finances. This should serve as a warning for the development of small and medium-sized museums in Taiwan.

With its huge, elaborate aquaria, specimens and models of seabed ecology, Echizen Crab Museum was built with borrowed funds in the hope of boosting local tourism, but instead has become a drain on local government finances. This should serve as a warning for the development of small and medium-sized museums in Taiwan.

With its huge, elaborate aquaria, specimens and models of seabed ecology, Echizen Crab Museum was built with borrowed funds in the hope of boosting local tourism, but instead has become a drain on local government finances. This should serve as a warning for the development of small and medium-sized museums in Taiwan.

With its huge, elaborate aquaria, specimens and models of seabed ecology, Echizen Crab Museum was built with borrowed funds in the hope of boosting local tourism, but instead has become a drain on local government finances. This should serve as a warning for the development of small and medium-sized museums in Taiwan.