Ignite 2024: Jamie Lawyer

After 20 years, the Rubin Museum has closed its New York City building to become a museum without walls. And the Rubin is dedicated to Himalayan A rt and sharing its insights with the world. And I've spent almost a decade helping audiences fall in love with who we have been. We closed our physical building earlier this month and our decision allows us to better serve audiences and remain relevant in a changing world.

Put simply, we're serving our mission in new ways. And this strategy enables us to engage audiences far beyond New York City. We shift from a fixed location to a decentralized approach. Utilizing traveling exhibitions, partnerships, collection sharing, supporting artists and researchers, and creating online content.

And the Rubik's Transformation invites us all to rethink traditional museum models. Are permanent places really the only way to do this work? How else can we be of service to audiences? Now, you might not be permanently closing your building, but I bet many of you are asking more from your institutions and guiding your colleagues towards progress.

And during those times of change, how do you show up to the call? And I stand before you as a lover and creator of vibrant in person experiences. I've produced exhibitions, welcoming frontline moments, and hospitality trainings designed to challenge our staff to think differently. So, when I first heard the news that we were transforming at the Rubin, I grappled with my attachment to my work, our visitors, and even my own identity as a museum worker. And then I realized, this is the discomfort everyone talks about when you're evolving. And evolving at this scale requires a radical assessment and a willingness to learn, unlearn, and relearn. And it felt like the ground was quicksand, and to stay anchored, I needed to chart the course ahead to support me when emotions ran high.

And to navigate shifting conditions, I chose to find joy when surfing the waves of the unknown. This was required as my team lived in two worlds. Helping welcome our visitors to our space for the last time, while building a brand new digital entry point. And this transformation forced Rubin's teams to be nimble.

CRM projects, a new website, a rebrand, a refreshed visual identity, and a name change. You name it, I feel like we've done it. And for the website, we were clarifying our new model in the details of wireframes. And I had to remind myself and teams that this redesign was reintroducing the Rubin to the world.

And of importance, we are not becoming a digital museum. But without an admissions desk, our website is one of our most constant pathways of welcome. It needed to be warm, filled with choice and empowering, just like a great in person experience, and I'm a physical space lover, leading a digital transformation.

So during our redesign, I elevated the stories of the visitors that I heard from my admissions team. I highlighted what people crave from our spaces and built those elements into the seams of our website, and to lead teams during this time, I needed clarity of focus and compassion, because when a new beginning is required, it often comes with the ending and the way that things have been.

And endings can be filled with grief and this transformation. It required patience in times of fear. Perspective when facing fatigue. And making sure that teams have what they needed to sustain the journey together. So why is change and discomfort worth it? Because we owe it to our visitors to create museums that are vibrant, evolving places to meet them where they are now and where they will be in the future.

And just two weeks ago, we closed our building, and now we are at our new beginning. And when we free ourselves from the constraints of how things have been, we gain the powerful and nerve-wracking opportunity to shape what they will become. The Rubin's story represents that evolution in our field is always occurring, both in big ways like ours, and through small, everyday moments across museums.

And when navigating change, I chose to center joy and care. Because that's what gives me hope. And when we cross the threshold as a team to a new beginning, I want it to feel human because it is our togetherness and tenacity that helps us to overcome the hardest of moments. So, when change comes, remember that you get to choose how you will rise up to the challenge.

And don't choose fear, choose joy. Because when you do, you will rise up. You can help your organizations become the better versions of themselves for your staff and for the audiences you serve. Thank you, MCN.