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Showing posts with label touch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label touch. Show all posts

Sunday, February 8, 2015

Sensory Encounter -- Access to Museums and Galleries for the disabled



Every grade school usually has a time for experiencing the arts. Most of us can remember the fun of finger painting: how it felt, slimy and cool to the touch; how it smelled, and some of us even how it tasted. We learned the basics of creativity and how to cover the slick white paper with fingerprint smears in less than five seconds flat

Learning is always enhanced when we stimulate our five senses with color, sound, smell, taste and touch. For hundreds of years, the art experience has only been for the few.  It has only been in recent years that museums, art galleries and nature have been made available for the sensory impaired and the disabled.

My first exposure to a tactile garden prepared specifically for those who were blind was in Minnesota. Here the seeing impaired visitor was able to touch and smell the leaves, petals and stems without fear of being pricked by a thorn. Some plants were there specifically for the tasting. Walkways were kept unobstructed and safe so people could walk, use a wheelchair or sit down to rest.
Unfortunately, most museums don’t allow touching of sculptures and galleries discourage the touching of paintings because the oils from our skin may eventually leave a soiled mark that promotes disintegration. People are generally curious and want to touch areas of sheen and smoothness or patches that look rough even though it may be an illusion. Today more and more cities are opening sensory gardens and museum areas where disabled children and adults may enjoy acoustics, music, fragrance, light, and texture.
(Seeing impaired students are allowed to feel texture)

 From "Magical Gardens for the Blind, Deaf, and Disabled" The Daily Beast, by Elizabeth Piciuto

 “When I walk into the Stephen Knolls School’s greenhouse, cheerfully bright even on an overcast day, the humidity frizzes my hair into a delirious halo. The school’s principal, Kim Redgrave, is explaining the school’s gardening program to me when three boys who are maybe 10 to 12 years old join us. Two of them are in wheelchairs. The third walks unsteadily, led by a grown-up holding his hand. I try to catch the eye of this third boy, but he plops down onto a stool and avoids my gaze. I turn to one boy who rewards me with a giant, hammy smile.

“They are here to measure their plants,” explains their teacher. From the looks of the seedlings in their plastic pots, the boys have planted their seeds just a few weeks ago, and they are growing vigorously.

“Just a few years ago, I hate to admit that in my total ignorance of disability, I would have assumed that these boys were barely aware of their environments. More attuned, I now see how all three boys become absorbed in their plants’ progress.
“Reams of research demonstrate that gardens and plant care can help students with disabilities develop crucial knowledge, skills, emotional regulation, and self-reliance: those with less intensive disabilities, more intensive disabilities, cognitive disabilities, physical disabilities. Even children without disabilities, for that matter, experience the same benefits. 
“Spending time in gardens can reduce the need for medication in children with ADHD,” Sachs pointed out, even after walks that last just 20 minutes.
“As a result of this research, there has been a growing movement to include what are known as “sensory gardens” in many schools for children with disabilities, as well as many botanical gardens in children’s hospitals. Sensory gardens are gardens that are designed not only to be accessible to people with disabilities, such as having winding paths appropriate for wheelchairs, but to “systematically and sensitively nourish the five basic senses,” says Amy Wagenfeld, professor of occupational therapy at Rush University and one of the authors of the forthcoming bookTherapeutic Gardens: Design for Healing Spaces. Such gardens provide opportunities to see, smell, touch, listen to—and sometimes taste—plant life and garden fixtures, such as scented herbs, smooth river rocks, or velvety lamb’s ears.” 

“In a workshop using scent in art, I learned that the same scent can smell differently if given a different label, such as cheese or vomit; or by changing the color of lights in an olfactory art sculpture from red to blue. In the round table "Putting Theory into Practice," several museum curators and educators, spoke about personalizing the museum experience and creating multisensory exhibits. John Bramblitt, an artist who lost his sight, had to find new ways to do his art again by using other senses and art materials. He brought in some of his paintings, where I was able to feel the contrast of a smooth plastic background and the raised ridges of his acrylic paint.

“The last day of the conference, I went on a verbal description and touch tour at the Whitney Museum, led by Danielle Linzer, where we viewed an abstract painting, "The Magnificent," by Richard Pousette-Dart, which we were able to touch after donning silk gloves. I was amazed by the amount of texture I could feel on the painting, which I was unaware of when I just looked at the piece.” 
 Japanese sensory museum http://youtu.be/pCcIbL0AyCo 
Opening of the exhibition "Sensory Journey" , conception and paintings by Silvana Di Martino, photos by Michel Versepuy and music soundtrack by Denis Barbier. in Paris 2011 the 13th of October. at the space Altura near La Bastille.

The exhibition presents a new concept, "the synaesthetic exhibition". What is a synaesthetic exhibition, you might ask? Well, it is a physical experience of sensory signals interacting with each other (visual, auditory, olfactory, tactile and gustative). 
By simulating sensations, other senses are awakened and brought to life. The paintings were meant to be touched and observed.   http://youtu.be/5-f9m40qhlQ
 
Most museums and art galleries have “do not touch signs” everywhere. Try it and you’ll find a docent or guide looking over your shoulder “Do not touch the paintings,” they warn which is why these sensory gardens, galleries and museums are catching on everywhere.

You’ll enjoy this video. “Good Mythical Morning” “Don’t Touch the Art.” \Gotta’ love these guys! http://youtu.be/IbT7xNf9zXQ 


Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Sadness is a Part of Life; Death is Inevitable



My sister was my hero. For almost 40 years she battled Multiple Sclerosis (M.S.). She was in a wheel chair for the last 20-25 of those years. In all that time, I never heard a complaint or a negative word. She remained optimistic with her faith intact.

When people would visit, it was they who went away uplifted. Her laughter and bubbly personality never wavered in spite of her disability. When her speech began to falter, I remember sitting with her hoping to understand what she was trying to say. I began a game of charades to help her express what was on her heart. This resulted in a raft of giggles from both of us until I finally discovered her meaning.

“Thank God my sister is still in there,” I remember thinking.


The last time we were together I wasn’t so sure. By this time she was almost comatose. Her large eyes stayed open. What I thought were tears of joy at our meeting were only her body’s response to moisten her eyes. Her skin was radiant and wrinkle free. She had not a gray hair on her head. How could she be so ill and look so beautiful?

I decided it was her spirit shining through. The nurse fed her a noontime lunch with a syringe filled with nutrients which she inserted into Jean’s feeding tube. This caused her breathing tube to bubble and froth as she took air in and out. I wiped the spittle from her mouth with a towel and felt honored to be able to do this for her, helping her through this arduous humiliating ordeal.


Somewhere inside did she recognize me and know I was there? I hope so. I had only been home a few days when I received a call that she had passed away. Had she held on long enough to see me? So many close calls had come and gone. She was in and out of the hospital on the brink of death throughout the past 20 years.

I will miss her. I miss the beautiful person she was and the person she continued to be through all the ups and downs, the falls, the concussions, the broken ribs that occurred as she fought to stay upright on her own. I will miss her courage and her optimism. She fought a good fight. She remained faithful and true. Those who knew her and loved her were the better for having known her.

We are not alone. People notice us wherever we go even though we may not know it. We influence for good or bad everyone around us; a small act of kindness, an encouraging word, a warm hand reaching out to comfort do not go unnoticed. The gifts of the soul are simple and free, but they last forever.



She is in a better place. I imagine her dancing and singing and doing all of the things she was prevented from doing; a prisoner of her horrible disease. Sing Jean!  Dance Jean, rejoice and be glad for the Lord your God shall shelter you from all pain and sickness.

Artist of My Soul

O Lord of light, of form and hue,
   Who has created all things new,
Create in me, from shapeless clay,
   An instrument on which You play.

God of the dance that planets tread,
   Who walks beside and soars ahead,
O let me move to worship Thee,
   Come, Holy Spirit, dance with me.

God of the Living Word, Poet of Time,
   Teach me Your words
   in Your cadence and rhyme.

O Lord of beauty, Lord of art
   Who gives a song for every heart,
Carve out my life, reshape and mold,
   And be the Artist of my soul.


(He hath put a new song in my mouth.
 Psalm 40:3 NIV)