I have always been fascinated by Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, and during those years I often thought of Charles Marlow. Eventually I began to suspect he had been lucky: he only had to travel up the Congo. I entered newly opened buildings presented as models of modernity only to find, a few metres further in, situations whose logic was harder to accept. Working in design direction and exhibition design, I moved through budgets, contracts, architectural decisions and content commissioned far too late, increasingly aware that every project seemed to contain its own Kurtz hidden behind an explanatory memorandum.

I experienced at first hand Spain’s boom in interpretation centres from the late 20th century into the first decade of the 21st. European funding accelerated their spread, while heritage offered an almost unassailable justification under the language of culture and conservation. Yet visitors too often occupied a secondary place. It is difficult to separate this proliferation from Spain’s wider construction boom. Alongside housing developments, auditoria and conference centres, cultural facilities multiplied within the same political ecosystem. Not every centre was unnecessary, nor every project speculative, but public works had become a privileged form of intervention. A building could be measured, budgeted and inaugurated; interpretive strategy and sustained relationships with audiences were less comfortable territory for an administration accustomed to square metres and technical specifications.

The European Regional Development Fund (ERDF) cultural categories for 2007–2013 reveal the imbalance. Spain programmed €346.6 million across three specifically cultural categories: 78.2% for heritage protection and conservation, 20.9% for cultural infrastructure and barely 1% for improving cultural services. Rounded figures may, therefore, total slightly above or below 100%. The material dimension absorbed almost the entire allocation.

That imbalance was visible in practice. Buildings were often designed as autonomous objects, with exhibition requirements considered later. The consequences were familiar: costly alterations to technical floors, insufficient power and data connections, spaces that could not be properly darkened, fragmented routes and lighting fit for cleaning but almost useless for controlling reflections or creating atmosphere. Exhibition design arrived afterwards and had to survive inside a building that had already decided almost everything without it.

The central questions should have come first: what are we trying to say, to whom, and what should visitors understand or discover? Instead, the container existed first, then came screens, showcases, models and projectors, and only afterwards the search for content capable of justifying them. It was rather like shooting the film first and trusting someone to write the script afterwards.

Carolina Martín-Piñol’s 2013 Manual del centro de interpretación (Manual of the Interpretation Centre) later gave systematic form to many of these concerns: conceptual ambiguity, weak regulation, inconsistent models and management problems. Bureaucracy reinforced them by commissioning communication through procedures designed for works and supplies, specifying panels and projectors while leaving audiences, narrative hierarchies and interpretive objectives unresolved.

Freeman Tilden’s 1957 principles remain valuable, particularly his insistence on revealing relationships rather than merely supplying information. Problems arose when they became a self-sufficient theory. Communication had changed: visual narrative, spatial argument, audiovisual culture, interaction and digital environments demanded more than a linear transfer of knowledge. Too many centres filled walls with information while offering few reasons to want to understand it. The system’s weakness became clearest after inauguration. In Huerta Grande, Vejer, Tarifa, Pujerra, Chiclana, Jimena and Casares I encountered variations of the same pattern: centres opened “to see who turns up”, restricted hours, intermittent closures, changing management, incomplete documentation, outdated content and equipment left out of service. Some have become an involuntary archaeology of that policy, with decaying panels, dead projectors, obsolete computers and broken furniture.

A sample of 21 Andalusian projects between 2005 and 2015 totals about €11.66 million in documented expenditure: 50.9% for exhibition design and equipment, 41.1% for construction and barely 8% for content and interpretation. Cádiz Prehistórico was tendered at €1 million with 75% ERDF co-funding; the Baelo Claudia contract was awarded for €1.3 million (€1,301,000), also with 75% ERDF co-funding; and the Vía Verde de la Sierra Interpretation Centre was awarded €239,834 within a programme co-financed at 70%.

The European comparison is equally revealing. Cultural services represented 32.5% of the three cultural categories in Italy, 14.3% in France, 13% in Portugal, 11.4% in Germany, 7.5% in Poland and 6.2% in the United Kingdom. Spain stood at 1%, while allocating 78.2% to heritage protection. This does not measure interpretive quality, but it shows that Spain’s material emphasis was not inevitable.

The deeper problem was an administrative culture that found it easier to finance objects than processes and too often confused infrastructure with a cultural project. Some centres remain open; others struggle or have closed. Their empty rooms and silent machines now offer an interpretation nobody designed.

Perhaps the real measure of this neglect lies not in closed centres or millions spent, but in what we failed to explain while pretending to interpret it: environmental degradation hidden beneath reassuring language; the technocratic emptiness of terms such as Natural Park or ‘sustainable’, whose ambiguity José Manuel Naredo has long exposed; the consequences of the 1977 Amnesty Law for investigating grave human rights violations; or the fact that many Andalusians know Blas Infante only as a ceremonial name, without knowing what he defended, why he was dangerous to those who rose in 1936, or why he was shot beside the road to Carmona.

A territory can fill itself with centres devoted to its heritage while forgetting where it came from, what happened there and who paid with their lives for imagining another Andalusia. While the stars wept.

The full version of this article, in English and Spanish, is available on My Lazaretto: https://mylazaretto.blogspot.com.

Juan José Trujillo Reyes is a Spanish creative and editorial director specialising in exhibition design, heritage interpretation, visual communication and data visualisation. He is Creative and Editorial Director of OTWO magazine dedicated to sustainable travel and nature (www.otwomag.com), and is the author of My Lazaretto, a blog dedicated to design and contemporary thought. He can be contacted at: juanjo.trujillo@gmail.com. 

The work that heritage interpreters may be expected to do is growing broader and more complex. For example, in the past century it was usually left to them to come up with interpretations and ways to engage visitors. Today, interpretations of any given heritage are often publicly contested. To develop or revise interpretive offerings, heritage professionals may find themselves working with local communities, special stakeholders, political representatives, and a wider public. 

The core skills of the heritage interpreter, as taught in Interpret Europe’s certification courses, remain valid. But to stay on top of the ongoing expansion of their field, heritage interpreters need to grow their skill set. They also need to develop an adequate theoretical understanding of their professional practice in this century. I don’t mean theory for theory’s sake, or for scoring status points with academic snobs. I mean the kind of theory that helps you be good at what you do, just like a good hiking map makes it easier for you to navigate the terrain.

Between practical skills and theoretical understanding, developing the latter could turn out to be the greater challenge, given that we may still lack any adequate theory of heritage interpretation, for this century or the last. To provoke ideas and responses, in the spirit of brainstorming, let me make an easy fresh start based on a connective concept, specifically the concept of mental modelling. It captures the notion that we understand the world by creating models of it in our minds, including models of heritage phenomena.

A connective concept, as I understand the term, is a concept that connects an initially disparate set of concepts, theories, or conversations. One thing that a good connective concept for heritage interpretation would do is to help us make coherent sense of the growing professional vocabulary. We would be able to define most of our terms with reference to such a connective concept. This has the useful effect of making it quite obvious how our terms, concepts, and perhaps even existing theoretical approaches relate to each other.

As a small test, let us consider some terms highlighted by the Interpret Europe online symposium held in February 2026. The symposium reflected on the role of ‘narratives’ in current heritage interpretation practice. A number of other relevant terms were collected in the symposium materials and Thorsten Ludwig’s introductory talk. Below I define some of them with reference to the concept of mental modelling:

Frame. Mental model that acts as a mould for other mental models.

Interpretive theme. Mental model that an interpreter uses as a mould to shape the mental model of a given phenomenon; in other words, a kind of frame.

Narrative. A large frame [mental model that acts as a mould for other mental models]; also, specifically, a large-scale story [mental model that describes a process] that acts as a frame.

Story. Mental model that describes a process.

Brain script. Mental model of how to act in a given situation; in other words, a template story [mental model that describes a process].

Take a moment to let this test example sink in. When you have, I hope you can agree that the concept of mental modelling lends itself quite easily to defining at least some of the vocabulary of heritage interpretation. What is more, with mental models as a common denominator, connections immediately begin to appear between individual terms, binding them together in a crisscrossing web of meanings. This is a promising start for the development of a new working theory.

Where do we go from here? Staying with the concept of mental modelling, a first step to develop it for heritage interpretation could be to move beyond its focus on individual minds or people (i.e. ‘subjects’) and think about what it means to engage in intersubjective mental modelling. Because subjects need to communicate to do that, this step leads to a chance to integrate parts of existing conceptions of heritage interpretation that focus on communication. And so on.

Or do you think we should start from another connective concept? Or use an entirely different approach to understanding heritage interpretation and guiding what interpreters do? Let’s keep the discussion going and model this together.

[The full article, Heritage interpretation as mental modelling: A connective concept for an expanding vocabulary, is available in the proceedings of the Interpret Europe online symposium 2026. There you can also find Thorsten Ludwig’s introductory paper referred to above.]

Philipp P. Thapa is an ecologist, philosopher, and writer based in Germany. He can be contacted at philipp.thapa@elfenbeynturm.de.

“To misname an object is to add to the misery of the world.”

French philosopher and author, Albert Camus, wrote this in 1944 as Europe entered the final phase of a bloody global war. He believed that clarity in language is morally important. Imprecision, lies, or euphemisms distort reality and fuel injustice or suffering.
For Camus, the words we use don’t just describe the world, they influence how we understand and act within it. So, if we call something by the wrong name, we distort reality, for example calling injustice ‘security’, oppression ‘order’, or war ‘peacekeeping’.
If language hides the truth, people are misled and harmful acts on others are easier to justify.
So, where does heritage interpretation sit in this? Interpretation starts with clarity in the form of facts (information) to reveal the meanings (understanding) behind those facts, or the story behind.
But if those facts are corrupted by the language used, they can influence our understanding of the world and how we act within it. For instance, in his work on mental frames, George Lakoff used the example of “war” (on terror) and “crime”, frames that lead to completely different outcomes (victory and justice respectively). The words we use have a powerful effect on framing our thinking, triggering a succession of thoughts and arriving at a conclusion. That conclusion might be what the originator of the information intended, or it might not. It may be morally right or deliberately morally wrong in relation to universal human values of love, justice, empathy, compassion or honesty, for instance.
Despite its best intentions, interpretation is not neutral. Interpreters are human, at least most still are in the AI revolution. They have their biases and filters (as does AI). Their role is to avoid ‘interpreganda’ yet provoke thinking, not fights.
Camus lived through WWII and saw the use of propaganda to manipulate, divide and justify death and cruelty. This has not gone away, and certain leaders are using the same methods just three generations later for obvious outcomes that we cannot pretend to ignore anymore.
If interpretation fosters multiple narratives from multiple perspectives, personal meaning-making instead of message-driven linear communication, multiple truths instead of the truth, it has an important role to ensure that people exposed to different understandings of the world from their own can consider these perspectives constructively rather than negatively. Some of these understandings might be morally reprehensible but should we suppress these views and pretend they do not exist? They are there but where is the red line? To what extent should we accommodate these contrasting perspectives and give them consideration? If we reject them, do we just fuel their fire?
Interpreters are changing from message-givers, channelling what site owners and authorities would like people to think, to become facilitators of personal understanding. This is a demanding task. It is fraught with the potential for clashes and conflict, especially in an increasingly polarised world. Heritage sites do, however, provide a transformative setting to reflect and consider what we and others think, whether it is a visit to Dachau concentration camp or to the Great Barrier Reef.
Shifting up to the meta level of universal human values is a way of reconciling those differences and finding common ground, for the common good, for our common future.

Ultimately, people decide what they believe. No one likes being told what to think. But if interpreters can offer safe opportunities in meaningful sites and places to consider our thoughts, beliefs and values then this is a positive step to foster personal growth in a world in which it is all too easy to fall prey to manipulation, whether it boils down to what coffee we buy or party we vote for.

Alexander (Sandy) Colvine is IE’s Project Manager for the EU projects EMPATHS and HI-People. This article was originally published in February 2026 on Sandy’s personal blog: https://substack.com/@sandycolvine Sandy can be contacted at: alexander.colvine@interpret-europe.net.

To cite this article: Colvine, Alexander (Sandy) (2026) “To misname an object is to add to the misery of the world”, Interpret Europe Newsletter Spring 2026, p. 5–6.
Available online: Interpret Europe Newsletter Spring 2026.

South of Ilidža in Bosnia and Herzegovina, below the famous Olympic mountain Igman, lies the suburban settlement of Hrasnica. It was first mentioned in the Ottoman census of 1455 as a village of 40 households. The area was known as home to a number of residences of prominent Sarajevo families. Among them, two notable houses have survived to this day: Hasanbegovića Kula and the Semizova Kula, locally known as kule.

Old houses are some of the last material witnesses of the social fabric that once characterised this area. Their architectural form and spatial organisation embody traditional Bosnian ways of living, while also reflecting the values and norms of past communities. From a heritological perspective, such houses are not merely physical structures; they are carriers of memory and identity. Although modest in scale, they form part of a wider cultural landscape that deserves both recognition and protection. Safeguarding them is, therefore, not only a matter of architectural preservation, but also of affirming continuity and cultural pride. These houses remind us that heritage is a continuum: others lived before us, and others will live after us. In this way, they speak not only of the past, but also of our place within a much larger historical chain.

The first house, the Kula Hasanbegovića, was most likely erected at the turn of the 18th to the 19th century. Archival records confirm its existence in 1817, when the estate of mula Abdulah Burek was inventoried after his death. Oral tradition from the Hasanbegović family recalls that the house originally belonged to the Rustembegović family before passing into Hasanbegović ownership in the late 19th century. Architecturally, it was an almost square structure, consisting of a ground floor and two upper levels. The ground floor served as a storeroom (magaza). Above it were living quarters, including a halvat (main room), a kitchen, and storage spaces. The upper floor featured spacious wooden balconies (čardaks) and a high pyramidal roof once covered with wooden shingles. Built of dressed stone bound with lime mortar and reinforced with oak beams (hatule), the house displayed both strength and refinement. A semi-circular stone arch crowned its large wooden entrance doors, while carved inscriptions (tarih) once recorded its construction.

A short distance from the first house stands the Semizova Kula (formerly Turhanija House). Historical records note it in 1889 as part of the estate of hadži Mustafabeg Turhanija of Sarajevo. In 1896, the property changed hands several times before it was acquired by the Semiz family, who maintained it throughout the 20th century. This house also demonstrates a mix of residential and practical functions. Its massive ground floor of cobbled stone, open space with few windows, and stabling facilities highlights its practical role, while the upper floors contained living rooms with wooden cupboards (musandare), built-in shelves, seating platforms (minderi), and even early heating systems with clay stoves. A wooden veranda (kamerija) on the second floor, together with large windows and Austro-Hungarian style doors introduced during later renovations, reflects changing architectural influences. The Semizova Kula is recognised as a National Monument of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Today, these houses stand as some of the oldest surviving structures in Hrasnica. Once symbols of status, security, and adaptation to the local environment, they are now silent witnesses of social history. Weathered walls and traces of graffiti reveal the challenges of heritage preservation, while their endurance illustrates resilience. Interpreting them does not only mean recounting their architecture or owners. It is about recognising how such houses embody the transition from feudal estates to modern communities, how they mirror the shifts in land ownership, and how they illustrate resilience within a turbulent historical context.

These houses of Hrasnica, among the oldest, if not the oldest, surviving residential buildings in the area, represent a rare and tangible link to Sarajevo’s historical and social development. Their preservation is crucial not only for architectural study but also for understanding patterns of land ownership, family lineage, and daily life in the region from the Ottoman period through the 19th century. As scarce examples of this building typology, they provide invaluable insights into local craftsmanship, construction techniques, and adaptive strategies to the environment. Protecting and interpreting such structures underscores the broader significance of heritage: to maintain continuity of memory, foster identity, and inspire appreciation for cultural landscapes that are increasingly vulnerable to urban expansion and neglect.

Edo Mesic is former Country Coordinator Bosnia for Interpret Europe. Currently, he is a freelance archeologist, interested in GIS, heritage interpretation, heritology, landscape archeology and cultural landscape. Edo can be contacted at: edomesic0@gmail.com.

To cite this article: Mesic, Edo (2025) ‘Kula Hasanbegovića and Semizova Kula’ in Interpret Europe Newsletter 3-2025, pp. 4–5.
Available online: Newsletter autumn 2025

Non-formal education plays a crucial role in lifelong learning, especially in the context of historical memory and democratic citizenship. The Council of Europe has been a fundamental actor in promoting cultural diversity, human rights, and peacebuilding since its creation in the aftermath of WW2. The European Cultural Convention of 1954 and the Faro Convention of 2005 are examples of efforts to safeguard and promote European cultural heritage, fostering mutual understanding and appreciation of cultural diversity.

The Faro Convention introduces a new way of considering cultural heritage, focusing on its value for local communities and their cultural identity. This convention highlights the importance of cultural heritage in sustainable socio-economic development and the promotion of democratic values, cultural diversity, and cultural identity. It recognises that cultural heritage is a resource for developing dialogue, democratic debate, and openness between cultures.

In the current context, with the political and societal challenges of the 21st century, the Council of Europe’s action in the field of culture and heritage focuses on promoting diversity and dialogue to cultivate a sense of identity, collective memory, and mutual understanding. The Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe (PACE) has recognised the important role of museums as resources for human development and citizen engagement. 

Since 1977, awards have been given to European museums that have demonstrated exemplary practices and stimulated innovation in the sector.

Education for democratic citizenship and human rights has always been a priority for the Council of Europe. This is why it has promoted the inclusion of sensitive and controversial parts of history in school curricula as it can reinforce democratic culture within a society and respect for different opinions, pluralism, tolerance, and diversity. However, we must be aware that delivering quality history education in schools can be challenging due to overloaded curricula, traditional teaching practices, and, in many instances, highly centralised education systems.
The Council of Europe has developed its work on Education for Democratic Citizenship and Human Rights for decades, providing a model of competences for democratic culture. In 2016, the Reference Framework of Competences for Democratic Culture (RFCDC) was approved, including knowledge and critical understanding of oneself, society, and the world. 

Nowadays, there is a necessity to put it into practice, and this requires for the member States a serious compromise in their educational systems, together with the implementation of the new initiative of the Council of Europe: The European Space for Citizenship Education, which seeks to reinforce democratic culture through education and remembrance. 

Teaching history and memory is essential for understanding historical events constructively and openly, developing the competences needed for democratic citizenship. The inclusion of sensitive and controversial issues in history lessons enhances democratic culture, as the critical understanding of controversy facilitates respect for different opinions and promotes tolerance of ambiguity.

The world outside the classroom – whether real or virtual – can restore many victims of historical atrocities to historical significance and recognition and send powerful messages of inclusion and respect for diversity. Openness to cultural otherness and to other beliefs, world views and practices help young people to make sense of the world they live in. Therefore, it is highly recommended to bridge the gap between formal and non-formal education by ‘using’ remembrance sites, museums, cultural routes and promoting dialogue about history in Europe, establishing partnerships between research centres, public institutions, and non-governmental organisations to commemorate sensitive historical events networks.

There can be many views and interpretations of the same historical events and there is validity in a multi-perspective approach that assists and encourages students to respect diversity and cultural difference, instead of conventional history teaching.

This is the case with the understanding and interpretation of heroes and villains in history. In Spain, contemporary history has been marked by the coup d’état of 1936, the Civil War, and Franco’s dictatorship for 40 years. Franco, the dictator, was a villain for the people who were killed, for the political prisoners, for the millions of citizens who did not enjoy liberty, for those who hardly had social and civil rights, for the losers. On the contrary, for the winners, Franco was seen as a hero, a vision that goes on. Even nowadays his death is commemorated every year by his followers, the extreme right and very conservative political groups. The arrival of democracy in 1975 was a milestone in the country’s history. This year is the 50th anniversary of his death and, funnily enough, his death is commemorated by the defenders of democracy and by the ones who don’t believe in democracy.

In 2006, an educational reform was approved that included the subject of Education for Citizenship and Human Rights, aiming to promote self-esteem, personal dignity, freedom, and responsibility. However, in 2013, this subject was suppressed as a full school subject. In 2014, the UN Rapporteur urged the extension of recognition and coverage of reparation programmes, highlighting the need to consolidate efforts in historical and human rights education. Memory and tools for the interpretation of the past require legislation to guarantee the inclusion of these topics in school curricula and restore dignity to the victims.

The 2022 Spanish Democratic Memory Law focuses on the recovery, safeguarding, and dissemination of Spain’s democratic memory, promoting knowledge of Spanish democratic history and the struggle for democratic freedoms. Memory sites play an important role as physical materialisations of the past, helping to rationalise and soothe the emotions and memories of survivors and victims.

In conclusion, the teaching of history and its relevance for democratic citizenship education are fundamental for strengthening democratic values, combating authoritarianism, and promoting social cohesion. History should be taught in a way that fosters critical thinking and addresses multiple perspectives, allowing students to understand the complexity of the past and its relevance to the present. This is a key issue, considering the evolution and extension of ideologies that are against shared values that we have built as a European society for decades.

The organisations that were born after the horrors of WW2, such as the Council of Europe, are compromised with the defence of human rights. We must never forget that those atrocities that happened in the past due to totalitarian regimes started with hate speeches, violation of human rights, racism, intolerance… the same atmosphere as is dangerously spread all over Europe by extreme groups. 

Therefore, Education for Democratic Citizenship should be a compulsory subject at all stages of formal education and form part of vocational training and non-formal education. It is more important than ever before. Democracy cannot be taken for granted, as we saw in the past, and we see now.

Luz Martínez Seijo is a Member of the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe and a Member of the Spanish Congress. She delivered a keynote at iecon25 in Poland on this topic.

To cite this article: Seijo, Martínez Luz  (2025)  ‘Interpreting heroes and villains in history‘ in Interpret Europe Newsletter 1-2025, pg. 4-5.
Available online: PDF Newsletter Spring 2025 

Whatever your thoughts on AI, the article below by Manuel Charr is an interesting amuse-bouche ahead of our IE conference in April where we will explore the theme of ‘Heroes, anti-heroes and villains: How we (re)create, use and dismantle them’. This article is reproduced with permission from MuseumNext.

The City Museum of Aarau in Switzerland has always embraced innovation. Their latest digital initiative uses Artificial Intelligence technology to enhance visitor experience with a playful interactive, AI Hero. Laura Schuppli, Digital Curator and Deputy Director of the museum, shared insights into this pioneering project during a recent presentation at the Digital Exhibitions Summit.

A historic museum with a modern vision

Situated in the capital of the canton of Aargau, the museum itself is a blend of history and modernity. Its original structure, a former city castle, dates back centuries and has housed the museum since 1939. In 2015, a modern extension was added, complementing its extensive collection of 60,000 objects and a permanent exhibition dedicated to the city’s rich history. The museum also curates special exhibitions addressing contemporary societal issues, with a strong focus on digital innovation.

Digital transformation and the AI Hero project

Since 2022, the museum has had an approved digital concept, affirming its mission to guide the public through the digital age. AI Hero, a highlight of the museum’s current special exhibition titled Loved, Praised, and Type, explores themes of heroes, idols, and role models. Opened in April, this exhibition examines the function of heroes across five chapters, ranging from childhood heroes to influencers, while posing the question of whether society needs heroes at all.

How can AI enhance visitor experience?

At the heart of AI Hero is a playful AI-powered interactive museum experience where visitors embark on their own hero’s journey, guided by artificial intelligence. This unique tour was developed in collaboration with a data scientist, an author, and a game design studio. Visitors interact with AGTA and Indigo, two AI-generated voices that narrate and guide participants through five stations equipped with computers, microphones, and headphones.

Personalised AI experiences for every museum visitor

Participants begin their journey by discovering their superhero name and powers, co-writing their hero story with the artificial intelligence, which can transform the narrative into a poem, rap, or summary. Visitors’ progress is tracked using an NFC-enabled hero ID card, storing key moments of the journey. At the end, they receive a personalised hero portrait, complete with a haiku summarising their adventure.

For younger visitors, the museum offers a tailored children’s tour. This adaptation addresses the technical limitations of AI in processing children’s voices and uses a more visual, multiple-choice format to enhance accessibility.

Artificial Intelligence innovation backed by research

The project’s technical foundation stems from a research initiative by the University of Applied Sciences in Northern Switzerland, which developed a speech synthesis model capable of translating Swiss German speech into text and linking it with text- and image-based artificial intelligence models. Privacy is a key consideration in AI Hero. Visitors’ interactions are anonymous, with no personal data collected, and any data stored on the NFC cards is deleted after an hour. The photo station, while optional, allows users to conceal their identity if preferred.

Engaging with the ethics of AI

AI Hero goes beyond entertainment to engage audiences in critical discussions about artificial intelligence. An accompanying programme for schools, teachers, and interested individuals explores the opportunities and risks of integrating AI into daily life. Workshops examine stereotypes in AI-generated images, encouraging participants to think critically about the technology shaping the future.

Shaping the future of AI in museums

By blending creativity, education, and cutting-edge technology, the museum invites visitors to reflect on the evolving role of heroes in a digital world. And through the use of AI, the City Museum of Aarau is fostering meaningful dialogue about its implications.

You can find more examples of how museums are using AI here: www.museumnext.com/article/artificial-intelligence-and-the-future-of-museums/ 

This article was originally published on the MuseumNext platform and is reproduced for Interpret Europe with thanks: 

https://www.museumnext.com/article/how-can-ai-enhance-museum-visitor-experience/

What do you think? Could AI challenge historical and societal norms and become your hero? Let us know what you think! Join us at #iecon25 in April for more lively discussion on heroes and villains!

To cite this article: IE News Team & Charr, Manuel (2024) ‘Can AI enhance the museum visitor experience?‘ in Interpret Europe Newsletter 4-2024, pg.4-5.
Available online: https://interpret-europe.net/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/Newsletter-2024_4.pdf

Little did I know, the Oderbruch is one of the best examples of successful transformations of cultural institutions in Germany. Oderbruch is a small area (920 sqkm) in the state of Brandenburg along the border with Poland, with part of it extending into Poland itself. The area got its name from the Oder River and the German name Oderbruch comes from brouch: meaning a marshy ground or a swamp. It is a natural landscape, but also a cultural one: the Prussian King Frederick the Great initiated the drainage of the river in the 18th century to cultivate it. The anthropogenic formation of the landscape, with its water system (often described as landscape machinery) and with countless fishing villages, farms and farming practices, received the European Heritage Label in 2022.
The museum has undergone a transformation since 2015. Before then it was an open-air museum much like many others and was facing the danger of closure. It didn´t have many visitors, the concept was not contemporary enough and it was lacking in funds and organising bodies.
In 2015, the TRAFO funding programme of the German federal cultural foundation saved the day. The goal of the programme was to fund many institutions (museums, theatres, music schools, cultural centres) across Germany, which would serve as models for culture in transformation. The focus was on the concept of (long-term) change of the institution. It was expected of them to become places which are more open, places of gatherings; places which allow other stakeholders not only into their spaces but also into their programmes; places which create opportunities for meetings of politicians and local authorities and therefore shaping the cultural policies; but also places open for all kinds of cultural workers and volunteers to bring their ideas and time.
The change concept for Oderbruch Museum was taken over by the team of the Office for Landscape Communication (Büro für Landschaftskommunikation). The Office name almost sounds like something from the future or a sci-fi movie, and in a way, it is. It is a team of people who – through a unique combination of scientific approaches (research, evaluation, publishing), art-based communication (exhibitions, installations, theatre plays), and education (museum programmes, school programmes, etc.) – attempt to, from as many angles as possible, interpret the shared but also the divided space (as in place, area) in which we all move each day and which we call – a landscape.
So, what have they done at the Oderbruch Museum?
They have turned the old open-air museum into a ‘workshop for rural culture’, into a living organism which actively grapples with current topics of the region.
They have developed indicators for success which are not only focused on visitor numbers, but allow self-examination: resonance in the regional press, resonance in communal funding, yes – number of visitors as well, but also the number and the intensity of cooperations and work relationships.
The admission tickets are annual tickets, so everyone can visit as many times as they want. The village residents can enter for free.
They work with annual themes, which allow a broad enough framework to build the programme around (themes so far were handcraft, water, agriculture, people in Oderbruch, youth; the current theme is the church). They consider regular people (residents) from the region to be their greatest experts. So, they interview people from the region who have expertise in the theme. The principle is to bring in as many perspectives as possible, even if the opinions oppose one another. It is an ethnological approach, and interviews accompany photographs. There is also a salon with a round table, where discussions are organised.
The interviews and discussions are then turned into artistic productions (theatre plays, events, film projects, exhibitions). Art as a communication tool plays a huge role.
In addition, once a year they organise a harvest festival in the village with residents but also any visitors who wish to join. It´s a village celebration with food, a brass band and dancing.
They have initiated creation of a regional cultural heritage network consisting of 40 voluntarily carried local cultural organisations (village museums, mills, collections etc.). In each of these 40 places there is a storyteller, someone who identifies with the place and takes responsibility for interpretation at the spot. Organisations are called to present in the museum the characteristics of its place with a miniature exhibition (showcase), which allows visitors to experience the variety of the regional heritage in the museum space, while giving them a taste of what they could see by travelling to it. They function as a reference point for a wider landscape heritage area.
Today, the network is autonomous and has even managed to motivate local authorities to fund it with 20 cents per resident which they in turn use to initiate new projects of their own or collaborate with the museum. The network itself was even responsible for applying and receiving the aforementioned European Heritage Label.
The change in Oderbruch happened through focusing on stakeholders and allowing their autonomy; using the framework of an annual theme and using art to communicate and educate; understanding landscape as a space in which a multitude of opinions and perspectives are encouraged. There is not one fixed narrative and they have embraced change as a work principle, much like a landscape.

Lucija Gudlin lives and works in Potsdam, Germany. She is an art historian with an MA in World Heritage Studies and works as a regional consultant for socio-cultural centres. She is Interpret Europe’s finance manager and currently coordinates the Learning Landscape Initiative, a joint project with UNESCO. Lucija can be contacted at: lucija.gudlin@interpret-europe.net. 

To cite this article:  Gudlin, Lucija (2024) ‘How a museum changed’ in Interpret Europe Newsletter 3-2024, pg.19-20.
Available online: PDF-Newsletter_2024_3.pdf

The American Battle Monuments Commission (ABMC) is a Government Agency. Its mission is to maintain military cemeteries and commemorative sites and educate about their history. Most of our interpretive staff rightfully feels the need to give context when interpreting for it is key to understanding how things came to be. Our staff also does a lot of research about the personal stories of men and women buried at our sites. When we occasionally find something, we want to share it with the world! All in all, we tend to share a lot.
But our amazing trainer on the Interpret Europe course for Certified Interpretive Writers (CIW) made an important point: Is it better to create an exhaustive panel that no-one will read? Or would it be worth sacrificing some of the details to catch the visitor’s attention? And by doing so, teasing them into making the active effort to look for more information by themselves?
Every day during the course we were made to think about how we act as visitors. Would we be stopped on our morning walk by a sign with more text on it than a page from the Lord of the Rings? Would we stop if a sign had no pictures? We quickly realised that all we can do as interpreters is make an offer to the public. An opportunity to relate with a phenomenon. We knew about it in theory, but this training made it crystal clear because we had time to practice.
During the training, we visited the Invalides Museum in Paris, and this was the peak of the week for me. Looking at their displays and panels was a wake-up call. They have two types of panels: caption-like signs that plainly state what you are looking at, e.g. “Doll of a soldier”. And informational signs offering very detailed chronological information filled with specific vocabulary, names, and dates. All or nothing.
The effect these panels had on me was simple: I did not read them. A few lines here and there but nothing grabbed my attention. My brain thought, “Oh ok, it’s about WWI” and I moved on. This stuck with me: I work in the field. If I don’t stop, who will? How can visitors want to read a sign if nothing provokes them or relates to their own experience? This visit made things click for me. I finally understood what I had been doing wrong and how to put the theory into practice.
Later that day, we were tasked with selecting objects and creating a short panel. My team and I selected two pens that were lost in the corner of a room with a short note that labelled them, “Pens used to sign the Armistice”. What might have been the strongest phenomenon in the room was lost among bigger and shinier objects, dates and lists of facts.
How many of our sites have objects, phenomena that like these pens, are not interpreted? At my site visitors often ask me about the meaning of the angel statue. Is there a sign next to it? No. But thanks to this training, it’s only a matter of time. And the new sign will provoke, relate and reveal meaning(s) for our visitors. I hope!

Amandine joined the ABMC in 2018 and worked as a guide for several years before becoming Cemetery Associate at Henri-Chapelle American Cemetery, Belgium. You can reach her at: jauneta@abmc.gov.

To cite this article: Jaunet, Amandine (2024) ‘Try telling historians to get rid of dates!‘ in Interpret Europe Newsletter 3-2024, pg.12.
Available online: PDF-Newsletter_2024_3.pdf

“Where the Past Meets the Future” was the motto of the 2018 European Year of Cultural Heritage. But where does this meeting truly occur? Is it in the grand museums, ancient ruins, or perhaps in the silent pages of history books? The answer is more personal and profound — it happens in the moments of interpretation, when we engage with heritage, extract its values, and allow them to shape our future.
Heritage is not just a relic of the past; it is a living dialogue between what was, what is, and what will be. This dialogue occurs when we engage with heritage in a way that allows us to reflect on the values that we, personally, recognise, shaping our present actions and our vision for the future.
When we encounter heritage, we are not merely observing objects, sites, or traditions; we are engaging with the essence of human experience across time. This engagement is where the past meets the future — in the moments of interpretation and personal or collective realisation. Through this personal interpretive process, we decide what is valuable, what is worth preserving, and what lessons can guide us forward.
The value-based interpretive approach is particularly significant in this context. It encourages us to delve into the deeper meanings and principles that heritage represents to us. By recognising and internalising these values, we do more than honor the past; we use it as a foundation to build a better future.
For example, a historic site may tell the story of a community that overcame great challenges. By interpreting this story through the lens of resilience, we gain insights that are not only relevant but also vital for addressing contemporary issues. This approach helps us connect with the past on a personal level, seeing it not as a distant memory but as a source of wisdom that can inform our future choices.
Moreover, the act of preserving heritage itself is a forward-looking endeavor. We conserve what we deem valuable, ensuring that future generations can learn from and be inspired by it (at least, we hope so). This process is inherently optimistic — it assumes that the lessons and values of the past are worth carrying into the future. In this way, heritage becomes a bridge between generations, a continuous thread of human experience that binds the past to the future.
In conclusion, the meeting of past and future occurs in the interpretive moment (the moment of mindfulness), when heritage speaks to us and we choose to recognise, listen (yes, interpretation is an art of listening) and learn its values. By engaging with heritage in meaningful way, we are not just custodians of the past; we are also architects of the future.

Max Dubravko Fijačko is an award-wining heritage interpreter and an IE Certified Trainer for interpretive guides. He is IE’s Gastronomic Heritage Coordinator. Max would like to come in exchange with you about any aspect of value-based interpretive approach. You can get in touch with him at: dubravko.fijacko@gmail.com.

To cite this article: Fijačko, Max Dubravko (2024) ‘Where does the past meet the future?‘ in Interpret Europe Newsletter 3-2024, pg.4.
Available online: PDF-Newsletter_2024_3.pdf

“We are all eco-terrorists!” The striking message in capital letters in green paint on the concrete road barrier receded in my rear-view mirror as I drove home but it stuck in my mind.

The message was a wry riposte by supporters of the French environmental movement, Les Soulevements de la Terre, to the French Home Office Minister, Gérard Darmanin. He used the term to discredit, even criminalise, the actions of environmental protestors demonstrating against plans to build irrigation mega basins to counter increasing drought in the French farmland.

This prominent message on the roadside got me thinking on two levels. Firstly, we, as a society, are approaching a global climate crisis largely fuelled by the consequences of our attitude to nature since the industrial revolution as a resource to control and exploit. Luminaries from the father of interpretation, Freeman Tilden, to French anthropologist, Philippe Descola, have highlighted this dilemma and echoed the classic mantra, “There is no infinite growth with finite resources”. Despite good intentions and global gatherings such as CoP, there seems little to suggest our approach to the environment is changing. Indeed, mega projects such as the irrigation basins or more recently, Europe’s largest fish factory ship, the Annelies Ilena, suggest we are still set on a course of accelerating unsustainability. Moreover, it is altogether regrettable that we have reached a state where campaigners against such projects are discredited and labelled eco-terrorists by others for daring to say, Stop! Enough is enough. There has to be another way.

My second thought was, am I an eco-terrorist driving by that graffiti in my car? Reappropriating Darmanin’s declaration, it made me reflect on my attitude towards the environment, how I use it, consume it and value it, or not as the case may be. Am I an eco-terrorist in gardening gloves and a hybrid car? It certainly felt healthy to challenge my perceptions and actions on a personal basis even if I find it uncomfortably easy to be a hypocrite. This then took me to wider issues such as the compulsion in western society to divide nature and culture into separate worlds, the concept of an historic environment that is so central to ‘modern’ cultural heritage and identity, or even the motivations behind rewilding projects.

There is plenty to demonstrate that humans are bad for the environment, yet during 4,000 generations of Neanderthals and Homo sapiens until the Anthropocene epoch (the term being a source of provocation in itself), our footprint was relatively restrained. Thereafter, in just over ten generations, we have had a major impact on our environment that is difficult to deny.

Those green painted words made we think about ‘modern’ society’s attitude to nature and to consult various sources to learn more. Can we change it individually and collectively? Is there a willingness to do so? Will our political and economic systems even allow such a change?

Needless to say, “We are all eco-terrorists” has been pressure-washed away now but it served to provoke reflection and challenge my values, which is what all good interpretation should do, even if the subjects are testing and tricky. I would even go as far as to say that in this case it was provocation with a capital P. 

Sandy Colvine is a freelance interpretive and rural development consultant based in southeastern France. As an IE Certified Interpretive Trainer and IE Supervisory Committee.

To cite this article: Colvine, Sandy (2024) ‘Provocation with a capital P’ in Interpret Europe Newsletter 1-2024, pg.4.
Available online: https://interpret-europe.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/PDF-Newsletter_2024_1-spring.pdf