Professor of ᴀssyriology, Matthew Stolper standing in front of the Colossal Bull Sculpture from the Achaemenid capital Persepolis, dating back to 486-424 BCE

“The Oriental Insтιтute (OI) was founded in 1919 to be an insтιтution that studied the ancient cultures of the Middle East at the University of Chicago. Its collection holds more than 350.000 artifacts and its mission is to preserve, facilitate research and educate”. This information, the first that guests read when entering the galleries, is etched into my mind. It is not a surprise as I must have read it a hundred times.

Some months ago, while in my mission to discover all the museums in Chicago, I arrived at the Oriental Insтιтute for the first time. At the time, the OI was one of the first in the city to reopen. Although there were masks, social distancing, and time constraints I was extremely happy to be back inside a museum after so long. That might have also affected my boldness when after my visit I went to the lobby and asked… “Do you have any openings?” Luckily for me, they did. And after a few emails, interviews, and safety training I donned my uniform and started my job as a gallery attendant.

My main role is to ensure guests’ comfort and safety while in the museum. Currently, this sometimes means having to remind visitors of Covid-19 regulations -my most uttered phrase must be “please Sir/Madam, could you please adjust your mask?-. But in general, my shifts are divided between answering questions, reading museum labels when the galleries are empty, and just seeing how people look and engage with the artifacts. I was surprised by how much I learned just by doing the latter

        

When I started my journey at the Oriental Insтιтute I expected certain behaviors and questions. After all, I had been to many museums in my lifetime and I had interacted with gallery attendants before. And while people do ask for the bathroom, Wifi pᴀssword, exit, closing time, or Covid-19 policies, these questions are not as common as I thought. Most guests approach me curious about the artifacts themselves. Sometimes, these encounters make for funny anecdotes such as the young man who asked me to explain the whole Mesopotamia exhibit for him because “he did not want to read anymore”. Or the student who argued with me that the cuneiform tablets could not be translated because “how would they know how to understand them if they were not there?”.

However, the most common question has always been “is this an original?”. This was asked in reference to almost anything: the mummies in the Egypt room, the ceramics in the Mesopotamia gallery or the gigantic bull of Persia -to name a few- were all artifacts I got quizzed about. Furthermore, visitors from very diverse backgrounds, ages, and behaviors in the exhibition would coincide in this question. From 12 year olds to to retired grandmothers.

The question in itself was not surprising. After visiting other museums in Illinois I saw that finding real-size reproductions of historical objects and environments was not uncommon. Some examples could be the White House in Abraham Lincoln’s Museum in Springfield or the Jazz Club in Chicago’s History Museum. It was not surprising then for guests to question whether the lamᴀssu they saw was or not the real deal.

However, what perplexed me was the reaction to my affirmative answer – artifacts are real besides a few labeled casts made in a different color-. There was amazement and glee when considering the age of the objects -many even quoted how smart “their ancestors” were – but the casts also had positive reactions. There was no loss of interest in an object because it had been identified as a copy, people would still pH๏τograph it and spend time observing it. Authenticity did not seem to matter or at least it was not needed to appreciate the object.

Questions regarding authenticity and visitor expectations are more complex than what I can conclude by just watching people for a few months. But they have now resurfaced in my mind after this experience. I have enjoyed my work as a gallery ᴀssistant and now that my days in Chicago come to a close I will be sad to abandon it. I leave hoping that my time in the OI has helped guests enjoy and reclaim the physical space that is a museum.

I would like to thank my coworkers -especially Miguel for posing with me for the pH๏τos- for all their conversations, and my boss Vick Cruz -Manager of Visitor Services and Security– for taking the amazing pH๏τos that enhance this article.

Related Posts

Fossils in Stone: Windows into Prehistoric Life

Fossils are among the most powerful storytellers of our planet’s deep past. Carved into rock over millions of years, they provide silent testimony to the creatures and…

Gilgamesh: The King Who Became Legend of Mesopotamia

In the vast history of human civilization, certain figures rise above the rest, not merely as rulers or warriors, but as symbols of the human struggle against…

The Mystery of Ancient Precision Cuts: Lost Technologies of Forgotten Civilizations

When we think of ancient civilizations, we often imagine chisels, hammers, and primitive tools shaping the stone monuments that survive to this day. The pyramids of Egypt,…

The Gate of Xerxes and the Eternal Legacy of Persepolis

Standing proudly beneath the vast Persian sky, the ruins of Persepolis whisper tales of an empire that once commanded respect across three continents. Among these ancient stones,…

The Triumph of Shapur I: Power, Symbolism, and the Eternal Rock of Naqsh-e Rustam

Carved into the rugged cliffs of Fars Province, Iran, the monumental relief at Naqsh-e Rustam tells one of the most powerful stories of the ancient world. Dating…

The Colosseum of Rome: Monument of Glory, Blood, and Legacy

Rising majestically in the heart of Rome, the Colosseum—also known as the Flavian Amphitheater—remains one of the most iconic monuments of antiquity. Constructed under Emperor Vespasian around…