A material perspective on pupils’ experience during museum education as a space for historical consciousness

Theoretical framework

To investigate the pupils’ experience with historical objects and their historical consciousness, the article first draws on Spyros Spyrou’s (2018) relational ontological understanding. This offers an understanding of the entangled production of the pupil’s subjectivities as affected by and affecting their surroundings. Second, the experience with a historical object draws on Hans Ulrich Gumbrecht’s (2004) understanding of the experience as an oscillation between meaning and presence (see also Dudley, 2010) and Sandra Dudley’s (2012) understanding of museum materiality. Third, this article adapts a Germanic educational tradition to history education and draws on Bernard Eric Jensen’s (2017) work on historical consciousness as a pedagogical, cultural and Bildung-oriented term.

Methodological framework

Guided by both theory and empirical insights from investigating museum education at Rosenborg Castle, the process of this research has enabled the exploration of multiple perspectives to generate or refine theoretical explanations. The focal point of the process has been driven by a material attentiveness, the pupils’ voices and a collaborative ethnographic approach.

First, by positioning the research theoretically within the material turn, it was found necessary to methodologically attune the methods to the material. The attentiveness to the relation between pupils and the material world was and is essential for exploring insights into how objects are experienced and understood (Henare et al., 2006). The methodology, therefore, adopts a broad conceptual lens that attunes both the research and the researcher to materiality, aligning with a material ethnographic approach (Woodward, 2020). This conceptual lens has directed the generation of explanations by not only understanding how the pupils perceive Rosenborg Castle’s materiality, but also broadening the enquiry to explore the relational dynamics between the pupils and the objects – dynamics that define both object and subject (Dudley, 2012). However, it is important to clarify that the relation between subject and object is never understood in isolation (Woodward, 2020). The pupils’ experience occurs within many different contexts, for example, an educational visit, a social context, an open school context with other museum visitors and the present article’s research context. How the teacher has been preparing the pupils before the visit to the museum can have a tremendous impact on what happens during the visit (Thorhauge, 2021). Not to mention that at the time of the investigation, the Danish monarch Queen Margrethe abdicated the throne (the first Danish monarch to do so in 400 years). However, these contexts have not been the focus of this research, and therefore, they have not been further investigated. This is not to neglect the importance of the institutional effect on the encounter between pupils and historical objects within museum education, but it is understood as a part of the practice that is researched. The article also doesn’t neglect that there are aspects outside of the observed lesson during the visits that affect the pupils.

Second, addressing the complex and ambiguous concept of pupils’ experience with historical objects creates the importance of giving space to the pupils’ perspective, encompassing both the pupils’ discursive expressions and embodied actions in the rooms of Rosenborg Castle. Framing this concept of giving space to their voice is an attempt to proclaim that one cannot ‘give a voice’, hence it can refer to attributing a specific voice, as this can imply imbalances of power and privileges (Latz and Mulvihill, 2017). Instead, this concept recognises and acknowledges the pupils’ very ontological existence as independent and autonomous (Spyrou et al., 2019).

Third, to ensure the research remained grounded and relevant to meaningful and ‘real-world’ practice, the research was conducted in collaboration with 10 museum professionals. Drawing on a collaborative ethnographic approach, this collaboration was deliberately embedded in the research design, positioning and embracing the practitioners – the museum professionals – as experts in museum education as a practice. They contributed to multiple stages of the research, including data collection, methodological development and data analysis, and at different stages of the thematic analysis. However, the purpose of the collaboration was not to invite the museum professionals to be ‘researchers’; instead, they participated as experts in their own practice. This is a defining feature of collaborative ethnography; rather than ‘reading over the shoulder’, the approach is ‘reading alongside’ the museum professionals (Lassiter, 2005, p. 14). The collaborators were involved from the outset and their contributions helped to generate the development of new and critical perspectives on the research by bringing practice-based knowledge into dialogue with academic analysis. In this way, the article sought to produce research on museum education from within the practice itself, thereby enhancing its relevance and potential impact (Lassiter, 2005).

Together, these three guiding concepts – the material attentiveness, the pupils’ voices and the collaboration with practice – anchored the impetus and abductive framework which ensured the article remained exploratory, structured, grounded and linked to both theoretical and practical dimensions of pupils’ experiences with historical objects.

Methodology for data collection

Methodologically, the data collection was conducted by using qualitative cartographic observations, sticky note exercises and qualitative photo-elicited surveys. In combination, these methods offer a multi-sensory and discursive glimpse of the pupils’ interaction in space and place, which supports a broad perspective on the observed phenomenon – experience with historical objects (Woodward, 2020). The chronology of the data collection with each of the 16 school classes’ visits is represented in Figure 1.

Figure 1

Overview of the chronology of the data collection for each class visiting Rosenborg Castle 

All four stages were initially conducted by the present author with six school classes and then by the 10 museum professionals. Each museum professional observed a school class, and after each class, the author and the museum professional had a post-observation conversation.

The qualitative cartographic observations sought to observe the interaction between the pupils and the historical materiality at Rosenborg Castle. This was inspired by different methods of tracking the subject’s movements (CoRed, n.d.; Hooper-Greenhill, 2004). However, this article’s use of cartographic observations took a more qualitative approach, where one draws to see, instead of drawing to represent (Causey, 2017). The observer drew the pupils’ interaction in space and place on a floor plan of Rosenborg Castle (examples shown later in the text). This method allowed for a flexibility to not only be attuned to the material interaction, but also to embrace the pupils’ perspective as both what they do and what they say (Spyrou et al., 2019).

After the completed lesson at Rosenborg Castle, the pupils participated in the sticky note exercises, where they wrote on a sticky note what they understood as a historical object and what it is to experience a historical object. Afterwards, the pupils’ answers on the sticky notes were discussed in a plenary discussion. By using the sticky notes, the pupils who did not wish to say their answer in plenary were still given the opportunity to express their view.

This gave an insight into the pupils’ understandings, and the intention was to minimise the power dynamics that can occur between the adult researcher and the pupils (Spyrou, 2011). If I had explained my understanding of an experience and a historical object, it could have influenced the pupils’ understanding. The exercise was, therefore, a step towards approaching the pupils as experts and an attempt to prompt their reflections to be led by their understandings (Spyrou, 2011; Spyrou et al., 2019).

For the qualitative photo-elicited surveys, the pupils were asked to take a photo of the object at Rosenborg Castle that had the biggest influence on their visit to the museum and to explain their experience with the object while standing in front of the object. Thus, when the pupils took the photo themselves and explained their experiences with the object, their visual narratives were incorporated into the data production and, thereby, the pupils were positioned as authors of their own stories (Banks and Zeitlyn, 2015). The method could arguably also be called photovoice, but due to photovoice also being understood as more than a method and instead more of a complete research framework (Brown, 2024), it was chosen to call these photo-elicited surveys. After the pupils visited the museum, they participated in a more extended qualitative photo-elicited survey with open reflective questions about their experience with the specific object, where the photo worked as a stepping stone to get insights into the pupils’ experience with the objects. By using qualitative surveys and open reflective questions, it was possible to achieve a diversity of perspectives (Braun et al., 2021).

Pupils’ relational encounter

The cartographic observations showed how pupils sometimes broke with the intended lesson at the museum. This breaking with the intended lesson is inspired by Lise Sattrup’s (2015) definitions of ‘cracks’, that is, indicating when someone breaks with the disciplined way of ‘doing museum’ or the intended experience, so new ways of doing the experience can occur. It is therefore not understood as a negative disturbance to the education, but the pupils’ way of ‘doing’ Rosenborg Castle. This is not to say that the first theme – rethinking museum education through pupils’ relational encounter – emerged from the cartographic observations; instead, it was an intentional analytical ‘cut’ by using Sattrup’s definition of cracks.

During the workshop with the museum professionals, it was discussed and agreed that the pupils’ cracks were very common, especially involving the materiality. The cracks did not follow a uniform pattern and were not observed at a consistent point during the lesson or at a specific place in the castle. Nevertheless, the cracks were observed to be a recurring feature of almost every class observed. One space that frequently gave rise to such moments of breaking was the treasury. Due to its high security, the treasury is equipped with alarms that can be triggered by noise, which compels every educator to highlight this fact and instruct the pupils to stay close to them. The space of the treasury thus imposed restrictions on the education and, therefore, during part of the lesson, pupils mainly had to listen carefully to the educator’s instructions and stories. Nevertheless, these constraints did not prevent the pupils from breaking with the lesson and seeking out a specific historical object. This dynamic is illustrated in the following four cartographic observations of four different classes, which depict the treasury in Rosenborg Castle and illustrate, in different ways, how the pupils broke with the intended education or the disciplined way of ‘doing museum’.

In Figure 2A, drawn by a museum professional, everything in green illustrates the educator’s actions and instructions, which primarily involved asking the pupils to stand still and focus on the object that the educator talked about. At the same time, the museum professional observed the ‘cracks’, drawn in orange, which illustrate every time the pupils moved closer to another object or asked about an object. Figure 2B, also drawn by a museum professional with a different class, depicts the same phenomenon, though here the cracks were drawn in red. In Figure 2C, another museum professional with a different class used yellow to indicate moments when pupils shifted their attention or moved towards something other than what the educator was addressing. Finally, in Figure 2D, drawn by the present author, orange was used to draw the educator’s instructions and red to highlight the cracks when pupils left the group or approached another object. Taken together, these four drawings contextualise how the pupils often broke with the intended education. The drawings also reveal the pupils’ material entanglement, as each ‘crack’ illustrates their curiosity or engagement with other materialities. This suggests a connection between the cracks and the pupils’ material engagement. The pupils’ desire to seek Rosenborg Castle’s historical objects by ‘breaking’ with the intended education may imply that the museum education might benefit from approaches that grant pupils greater autonomy in shaping their experiences.

Figure 2

Four different cartographic observations by three of the museum professionals and by the author 

However, when examining the data from the sticky note exercises and the surveys, the pupils expressed how the educator and the information provided by the educator were also crucial for their experience. In contrast, this indicates the pupils’ wish for the educator’s presence and need for the educator’s support, especially to support the meaning effect aspects of the pupils’ experiences. This aligns with what Spyrou, drawing on Wyness (2003), expresses as the pupils asking for the possibility of conversation, not full autonomy. Such findings suggest a notable contradiction in the pupils’ perspectives and relation to the objects; their actions indicated a desire for autonomy, but they expressed a desire for guidance. When the pupils’ perspectives are understood as both their bodily doing and what they express, it shows the perspectives’ messiness and complexity, and if understood as Spyrou (2018) suggests, it should be acknowledged and embraced.

Building on these findings, another layer may be added by including another example of ‘crack’. The pupils sometimes broke with the intended education by interrupting the educator and inquiring about a completely different object. An example of this is a pupil who interrupted to ask about a throne next to them. The same pupil chose this throne when they later had to take a photo, for the photo-elicited surveys, of the most influential object that they had experienced during the visit (Figure 3).

Figure 3

Photo taken by the pupil, and the author’s translation of the pupil’s quotes from the qualitative photo-elicited survey 

The pupil indicated a fascination with the throne, and although they do not explicitly mention the conversation, the information shared is used to imagine the past. Several things can be derived from this. First of all, the pupil’s experience went from the throne’s presence capturing their interest, to ‘breaking’ with the intended education and to the conversation of the pupil’s relational encounter and the meaning effects, or in short, as Gumbrecht (2004) points out, presence permeated meaning. Second, a sense of historical presence can also be seen in how the pupil imagined the past, an aspect that will be further explored in the third and fourth themes. Lastly, the data example also points to how the conversation about the pupil’s relational encounter becomes highly significant for the pupil’s experience – the conversation becomes more than just sense-making of the throne. The entanglement of the object, pupil, educator and the discursive forces of the conversation takes place in what Spyrou (2018) would call a state of flux, that is, they interact with one another and cannot be isolated from one another. This contributes to a discussion of not only focusing the museum education on what capacities the pupil possesses – competencies, knowledge and so on – but instead, on what emerges from the relational encounter.

Taken together, this theme offers a theoretical understanding and a shift from understanding museum education primarily as a conversation presided by meaning, to also understanding museum education as a conversation about the relational encounter. This adds a layer to the educational understanding that meaning, presence, materiality and subject are all in a state of flux. If the educator focuses the conversation on the relational encounter between pupil and object, it may pave the way for producing and reproducing subjectivity (Spyrou, 2018).

The oscillation between presence and meaning

During the workshop with the museum professionals, this second theme – balancing the oscillation between presence and meaning – was identified through a deliberate analytical discussion of the dynamics of the relational encounter highlighted in the first theme. Here, dynamics refer to the aspects, challenges and characteristics of the pupils’ experience, understood as an oscillation between presence effects and meaning effects. This was first discussed through a focus on the pupils’ perspectives, which revealed that they also express their experience with both presence and meaning as dominant features of this. Figure 4 illustrates an answer during the sticky note exercises, where the pupils were asked to express what it is to experience a historical object:

Figure 4

The sticky note on the left is written and drawn by the pupil and the sticky note on the right is the author’s translation 

The pupil’s drawing of a stick figure pointing to a painting of a king and exclaiming ‘wow’, while another stick figure talks about the painting, exemplified that the pupil’s understanding of their experience holds a simultaneity of meaning effects and presence effects. These findings support the theory of the experience as an oscillation between presence and meaning, as proposed by Gumbrecht (2004), and it is interesting that it is not just a theoretical aspect, but it is evident in how the pupils understand their experience with an object.

When examining the cartographic observations, the challenge that comes with balancing presence effects and meaning effects comes into play. During the workshop with the museum professionals, it was discussed how the amount of focus an educator put on meaning effect was crucial to the pupils’ participation, which was also something expressed by the pupils. If, for example, given too much information, the pupils would become non-attentive. However, it was not only the amount of focus that was the challenge, but also how the meaning effects was conveyed. For instance, one educator first talked about factual information about the past and then switched to talking about information about the past through the object. During the latter, the pupils moved closer to the object, became invested in the object and, instead of being absent, they interacted with the education. This example points out that the intended education, which was to teach about the curriculum of the lesson or meaning effects through a dialogue-based teaching approach, was not enough. To engage the pupils also demanded the importance of meaning effect through the materiality, highlighting that ‘it is an object of experience, as well as an object of interpretation’ (Dudley, 2012, p. 6).

Furthermore, the meaning effects that Rosenborg Castle wished to portray had, in some sense, been abstracted from the materiality. That is, the purpose of the lesson at the museum became solely about providing knowledge about the past in a very cognitive-oriented process. This aligns with how the museum professionals, during the workshop, indicated that knowledge or meaning effect dominates, or is still often the main goal of, museum education at history museums. Since the historical objects’ ‘special assets’ are characterised by their meaning effect and experiencing it is ‘wrapped up’ in meaning (Gumbrecht, 2004), it is inconsistent to argue that meaning effect should not be prioritised. But it is also important to consider Dudley’s (2012) plea to regain the magic of things. In this way, the education might benefit from a more balanced awareness of how meaning effects dominate the pupils’ encounter with the materiality and that the experience is also driven by the presence effects.

A consequence of the meaning effect being the dominant feature of museum education also came into play when the educators did not support the pupils in navigating the sensory stimulations. Instead of incorporating the materialities’ capabilities, the educators went straight on talking about the content or curriculum of the lesson – ‘Staging Absolute Monarchy’. This can be seen in the following four cartographic observations by four museum professionals of four different classes presented in Figure 5.

Figure 5

Four different drawings by four of the museum professionals from the qualitative cartographic observations 

The four cartographic drawings depict the same room in Rosenborg Castle and illustrate, in different ways, how the pupils’ attentiveness was drawn by their encounters or the presence with materiality. The intention with this stop was to use the symbols in the room’s decorations to start a conversation about how the first absolute monarch in Denmark staged his new power. In Figure 5A–C, the museum professionals drew dots or circles whenever they observed pupils being more attentive to other material aspects or specific objects in the room, marked in red in Figure 5A, and green in Figure 5B and 5C. Figure 5B and 5D also show instances where some pupils physically moved closer to other objects, marked in yellow in Figure 5B and in red in Figure 5D. In addition, the museum professional who drew Figure 5D counted how often pupils looked away or towards other materiality; in the room highlighted in the drawing, this was observed 25 times (noted with an upside-down number in Figure 5D). Together, the four drawings illustrate how pupils ‘broke’ from the intended lesson. However, none of the four museum professionals interpreted this as a lack of motivation, but instead as pupils being sensually drawn to different material aspects. Furthermore, the view that there was an overwhelming aspect to the cartographic drawings in Figure 5 was also discussed. This stemmed from the room’s overwhelming capabilities, which are illustrated by Figure 6.

Figure 6

Author’s picture of the marble room at Rosenborg Castle 

Figure 6 helps visualise how the room’s aesthetic capabilities, which go beyond the typical everyday world, can be understood as Gumbrecht’s (2004) moments of intensity. That is, an underlying mechanism of the presence effect, which enables an intensity of affective sensory engagement and immersion with the materiality that is present. This indicates a contradiction that the museum professionals observed. Namely, that the educators only created the possibility to engage with meaning effects, but the pupils were drawn to or immersed in the materiality. The pupils would require extensive historical knowledge to link the materiality with what the educator taught. In other words, the observed education drew on a more traditional teaching approach, which prioritises learning as a passive memorisation of historical facts (Haas, 2019; Jensen, 2017). However, the photo and the cartographic observations highlight the prevalence of the presence effect aspects of the pupils’ experience with the historical objects or materiality. This points to the pupils’ possible need for support from the educator in navigating the sensory aspects of the experience, stressing that presence effects, while powerful, can also risk overstimulation.

In summary, this theme indicates some of the dynamics of the pupils’ material experiences that exist in a state of flux, and how it is pertinent to realise that those dynamics occur as an oscillation between meaning effect and presence effect. However, this theme also points to the importance of dealing with the amount of focus on meaning effect and the way meaning effect is taught; museum education risks being abstracted from the materiality. This can lead to the meaning effect becoming so dominant that it risks excluding pupils who do not have extensive historical knowledge and risks bracketing the presence effect. At the same time, it is important to remember that the presence effect, including aesthetic experience, can risk overstimulation. In conclusion, working with pupils’ experience within museum education requires balancing the oscillation between the presence effect and meaning effect and supporting the pupils in navigating these processes.

Historical consciousness through historical presence

In Figure 7, the pupil’s description exemplifies how the crown sparks imagination, with the pupil personifying the crown by mentioning what the crown experiences through time and connecting those reflections with a memory from when the pupil was younger. At the workshop with the museum professionals, the example was discussed, and it was noted that one of the ways the pupils connected to the past through objects was with a very personal resonance. Through deliberate analytical reflections about the different ways the pupils connected to the past, the third theme was identified – historical consciousness through historical presence: adapting to pupils’ present understanding.

Figure 7

Photo taken by the pupil, and the author’s translation of the pupil’s quote from the qualitative photo-elicited survey 

This theme, therefore, highlights how pupils’ experiences are not purely intellectual but also come through sensory and emotional means. This suggests that historical presence is a characteristic of pupils’ experience with historical objects and can serve as an opportunity for historical consciousness. However, the historical consciousness through historical presence can also be understood as unintentional, oblivious and tacit historical consciousness, and for historical consciousness to be fully unfolded, as Jensen (2017) argues, it must be explicitly articulated. Thus, while pupils may intuitively connect with the past through historical objects, they require support to reflect upon its significance or coherence with the present and future – this indicates a need for involvement of the educator.

Nonetheless, in several observations, the educator’s initiation or articulation of historical consciousness was not sufficiently facilitated by them. For instance, one educator taught about the controversy of King Frederik VII’s morganatic marriage to a civil woman, but the educator failed to explain the historical significance or how nineteenth-century marriage norms differed from today. While the coherence between past and present was mentioned, the educator assumed the pupils would grasp the context independently. This highlights a key differentiation in that it is not just articulating historical consciousness; it is also adapting to pupils’ present understanding to support historical consciousness. So, even though historical presence between pupils and the historical object at Rosenborg Castle may lead the pupils to reflections that constitute historical consciousness, the lesson should adapt to the pupils’ present understanding and articulate historical consciousness.

At the same time, historical consciousness was not only initiated when pupils were asked or when the educator initiated or articulated historical consciousness. For example, the historical presence or connection to the past also occurred through a bodily interaction with the objects. One example is the following collage with fieldnotes and observations (Figure 8):

Figure 8

Part A is the author’s translation of a conversation from fieldnotes. Image B shows a cropped drawing of a pupil saluting the bust, taken from the cartographic observations, and Image B is the author’s photograph of the named bust 

As shown in the drawing and photograph, the pupils passed beneath the bust of King Christian V of Denmark, an object without accompanying information and not covered in the lesson. Nonetheless, a pupil saluted the bust, as seen in the drawing, which initiated the written conversation with another classmate. Following the notion that discursive and material forces exist in a state of flux, the interaction indicates that historical consciousness emerges in an entangled relation of connecting to the past through the historical object. As proposed in the first theme, this elaborates that object, pupil, discursive forces, material forces and now historical consciousness all exist in a state of flux.

This implies that a subject’s reservoir of experience, as Koselleck (2007) calls it, indeed incorporates material engagement. Jensen (2017) argues that agency – the subject’s ability to act – depends on the reservoir of experience, and expanding the reservoirs through active engagement with history enables a conscious historical consciousness through explicit articulation. However, the data exemplifies that historical presence, the connection to the past through the object, can spark reflections that constitute historical consciousness. Spyrou (2018) describes this as the production or reproduction of subjectivity, emphasising that historical consciousness is not purely cognitive but shaped by material and bodily interactions. This suggests the need to re-examine historical consciousness terminology, which holds a strong fixation on the subject rather than the subject–object relation.

In summary, this theme underlines how historical presence – the connection to the past through historical objects – is an aspect of the pupils’ experiences that impacts their historical consciousness. The embedded aspects of the experiences underline how material, discursive, bodily forces and so on exist in a state of flux, reinforcing that historical consciousness is not purely cognitive but also shaped by material engagement. However, the theme also points to the tacit and obliviousness of historical consciousness through historical presence, which underlines the importance of the educator’s involvement.

An authentic connection and an aesthetic experience with materiality

During the workshop with the museum professionals, the third theme was discussed, and in this process, the fourth theme – the obstacles of having an ‘authentic’ connection and an aesthetic experience with unfamiliar materiality – was identified. This theme was considered particularly pressing by the museum professionals, as such obstacles may hinder the underlying patterns of historical consciousness processes through historical presence, thereby posing challenges for the educational practices in which they are engaged. These obstacles became clear through the analysis of the prevalent characteristics of the pupils’ experiences described during the workshop, which the museum professionals named the wow-experience and the aha-experience. The wow-experience captured the aesthetic aspect of the presence effect, corresponding to Gumbrecht’s (2014) notion of ‘moments of intensity’. In addition, the aha-experience aligns with his argument that historical presence can invoke an authentic feeling.

It was initially agreed that these so-called wow-experiences appeared to have a notable impact on the pupils. This was a central discussion during the workshop with the museum professionals, stemming from the prevalence of pupils’ expressions about the beauty or striking nature of the objects they encountered. This assessment was based on the overall impressions gathered from the photo-elicited surveys, in which many of the pupils selected historical objects specifically because of their aesthetic qualities, such as beauty, elegance or a spectacular nature. An illustrative example of this can be drawn from the following class observation, with a class visiting the top floor of Rosenborg Castle – the Great Hall. The pupils were fascinated by the space and, upon entering, some voiced their spontaneous reactions such as: ‘S**t, this is beautiful’, ‘Wow, I can’t believe we have this in Denmark’ or ‘Wow, can you believe we have this stuff today?’ The exclamations were recorded in the field notes and further supported by the cartographic observations, which capture the pupils’ aesthetic engagement in the moment.

In Figure 9, the pupils were drawn as small circles and, on the right-hand side of the drawing, one can see how they are arranged so that they surround the educator, marked with an X. The observed formation and movements were drawn in pink, which indicated that the pupils’ primary attention was directed towards the surrounding materiality. Additionally, the two arrows show how some pupils temporarily ‘broke’ from the group, moving away from the object the educator was teaching about, to explore other nearby materiality. After the educator had completed what was planned to be talked about, the teacher requested they move to the other end of the hall, as the pupils were eager to see the thrones and large silver lions. Marked by the yellow line, the class proceeded to these objects and enthusiastically began taking photographs.

Figure 9

A drawing of Rosenborg’s Great Hall by the author, from the qualitative cartographic observations 

Although spending time with the thrones and lions had not been part of the planned lesson, the teacher recognised an excitement in the pupils’ behaviour, leading to a moment of engagement in which they were immersed in the materiality, investigated affectively and were generally positively stimulated. This suggests a positive benefit from the pupils’ moments of intensity. Yet a contrasting challenge becomes evident in a response to the photo-elicited surveys by one of the pupils from the class (Figure 10).

Figure 10

Photo taken by the pupil and the author’s translation of the pupil’s quotes from the qualitative photo-elicited survey 

As seen in the answers, the pupil selected the lions solely based on their aesthetic appeal. In the subsequent survey questions, beyond those presented in Figure 10, the pupil was invited to provide more reflective responses relating to historical consciousness and its connection to the object. The pupil responded with ‘I don’t know’ or ‘I don’t think that is relevant, but the object is beautiful’ and generally encountered difficulty in answering. During the workshop, the museum professionals confirmed that this tendency was also evident in the surveys from the pupils that they had observed. This illustrates a challenge in which pupils’ strong aesthetic experiences with the historical objects, while meaningful and immersive, can make it difficult for them to respond to more reflective questions related to historical consciousness. The example suggests that the aesthetic experiences, though valuable, can overshadow opportunities for such reflection and pupils may require pedagogical support to help them connect it with the development of historical consciousness. The aesthetic value of the lions could have been contextualised to support the pupils’ development of historical consciousness. Meaning that the educator could have talked about how it may be hard to value such an object because of the historical significance, or what the aesthetic appeal said about how the king staged his power.

The wow-experience, or moment of intensity, does not, however, arise solely from the prevalence of the pupils’ expressions about the beauty or striking nature of the objects they encountered. As Gumbrecht (2014) notes, beautiful qualities are not the only thing that constitutes aesthetic experience. Moments of intensity can also emerge from experiences that are unsettling, intimidating or shocking. An example of this can be seen in a pupil’s response (Figure 11).

Figure 11

Photo taken by the pupil and the author’s translation of the pupil’s quote from the qualitative photo-elicited survey 

The pupil illustrates how the ‘spirit’ of the place profoundly impacts them, creating an almost overwhelming and intense experience, which can also be understood as a moment of intensity. It is an element that meaning effect cannot fully convey (Gumbrecht, 2004) and it shows how an aesthetic experience does not necessarily involve beauty.

At the same time, the pupil also expresses an authentic feeling of knowing what it was like when the cloth was in use in the past – an aha-experience. This aligns with Gumbrecht’s (2014) concept of historical presence, where the pupil experiences an ‘authentic’ connection to the past. The authentic connection in the example is shaped both by the educator’s use of the object as a punctuator of a story, as Dudley (2012) describes it. But it is also by the presence effect – the physical, sensory and emotional responses elicited by the object itself. This can be seen in the pupil’s description of the profoundly authentic feeling, aesthetic intensity and affective impression. Together, these aspects demonstrate the importance of the power of the educator’s narration of the story behind the cloth and the power of the cloth’s ‘material capabilities’.

Although the historical objects may be authentic, the piece of cloth has also changed over time. The blood has changed colour, and the material has slowly begun to deteriorate. This demonstrates that the curatorial decisions regarding how the object is displayed are also crucial. However, this contextualisation of object – including its authenticity and material capabilities – was not addressed by the educator. Instead, the object was presented as a narrative punctuator and an unquestioned ‘truth’ that told the story of the death of Christian IV of Denmark.

The example shows how the intuitive connection with the past through the historical object can be shaped – or limited – by how the object is contextualised. This resonates with the third theme; it highlights that the intuitive connection can lead to unintentional, tacit and oblivious processes in the development of historical consciousness. Even though the educator mentioned how the cloth was used, the subjectivity of the material’s meaning was left for the pupils to interpret on their own. Similarly to the third theme, this also points to the need for supporting pupils in reflecting upon not just the past, but also the past in coherence with the present and future. Furthermore, this example points to the importance that, in supporting the pupils to reflect upon the coherence between past, present and future, it is also crucial to contextualise the historical objects’ material capabilities.

Overall, this theme reveals that historical objects can hold a crucial role in supporting historical consciousness within museum education. However, when a historical object is presented as an unquestioned ‘truth’, museum education risks overlooking the inherently subjective nature of museum materialities. As Dudley (2012) notes, the effect that the material’s capabilities have on us is a subjective interpretation. Museum objects are never neutral: the educator’s mediation of meaning effects, the curatorial decisions regarding display and how the historical presence affects how the pupils perceive the objects, all shape how pupils experience the objects, often under the assumption that they reflect an objective truth. Acknowledging this subjectivity in museum education – by making explicit the interpretive processes behind exhibitions, material capabilities and their narrative framing – can create the opportunity for more critical perspectives and, potentially, for fostering more conscious historical consciousness. By explicitly articulating the materiality – referring to authenticity, aesthetic value, the use of the object or even what it is – it becomes not only advantageous with regard to the possibility of developing historical consciousness, but also supports the pupils in being aware of their historical consciousness, which can lead to this being further unfolded. This also refers to historical objects not being authentic objects, hence talking about why the specific materiality can create the same possibilities as talking about why a historical object is not ‘authentic’.

Data and materials availability statement

The full datasets described and analysed during this article are available in an anonymised version from the author upon reasonable request.

Research ethics statement

The author declares that research ethics approval for this article was provided by Aarhus University and is in accordance with the Danish Code of Conduct for Research Integrity.

Consent for publication statement

The author declares that research participants’ informed consent to publication of findings – including photos, videos and any personal or identifiable information – was secured prior to publication.

Conflicts of interest statement

The author declares no conflicts of interest with this work. All efforts to sufficiently anonymise the author during peer review of this article have been made. The author declares no further conflicts with this article.