How do you create a landmark gallery within a Grade II listed building with a dramatic seven metre high ceiling rising above ornate restored plasterwork? How do you then place 1500 pieces of decorative art within this and ask them to grab the interest of school children and tourists, of visitors with expert knowledge as well those with little or no knowledge of the subject?

It sounds hard, and – we found – once you start to think about it, it gets harder. An exhibition could easily crouch timidly in a huge, attention grabbing space, but it would be a shame to demand all of that attention back uncompromisingly. Meanwhile, our brief asked us to create a gallery that would champion creative innovation. How do you tread carefully and be groundbreaking at the same time, and in the same space?

As a practise that has spent recent years worrying about these sorts of things, we have learnt that feeling confused is tiring, and that feeling stupid quickly leads to feeling bored. As soon as we feel that we ‘don’t get it’, we tend to disengage – particularly in the context of a museum visit, which can be more tiring and stressful than we imagine. This sounds obvious, but it is often assumed that an object will speak for itself, or, conversely, that everyone is able to take in a lot of information. In fact, feeling overwhelmed with information is likely to make people feel confused and lost. Feeling underwhelmed, perhaps just irritated.
The answer seems to be to do with feeling engaged rather than feeling locked out. It is not taboo for a visitor to dislike one of the museum’s prized objects – and he or she needs to be helped to feel that this is allowed. How else will they feel interested enough to decide that they do like it?

The trick is to create an initial connection and spark of interest – after that it gets easier, because we are all nosy. We like to touch things, we like to know how things are made, we like to find out how other people live. As soon as we can connect something to ourselves it gets interesting, even fascinating. Manchester Art Gallery felt that the nature of the content did some of this groundwork for us – we all come across objects that are useful or ornamental, or both, in our daily lives. Decorative art is an expression of our human need to personalise and influence our environment. As designers, we needed to foster ‘ways in’ to the objects that helped people make these connections.

In fact, we chose to create a number of ways in, through narratives, text, visual comparisons and links to modern life. One solution was a line-up of chairs from 1800 to the mid twentieth century, which helps to de-familiarise the form enough to see it afresh (a bit like saying the same word over and over again). Different media were also used to link our display to the room’s past – like whispering speakers in the walls, quietly broadcasting old theatrical performances. Variety is a good way of side stepping boredom. It also helps with the problem of talking to a lot of different people at once.

Editing is also essential. A good story is strong and clear (and the best story is not always the most complete story). The gallery wanted to take a themed rather than chronological route through their particular story, and we felt that bringing key objects out from the detailed narrative would help people find their way through. (Rachel Whiteread’s day bed – moulded from the negative space underneath a single bed – leads ‘Object Memories’.) This allowed us to give the opportunities for detailed exploration that the curious unhurried visitor would like, without leaving those who take a quicker journey feeling that they’ve missed something important. Layering levels of information allows the visitor to self-edit, to create a story that matches their own needs. It also allows them to dig as deeply as they care to.

A strong, clear structure needs to be applied to the organisation of a space as much as to the organisation of a story – and for similar reasons. It would have been churlish not to let the history of the room take a lead here, since the intrinsic structure of a theatre’s layout is so strong. The result is seven rows of primary showcases and display plinths, facing the direction of the old stage, and matching the spacing of the pilasters along the sides of the room. The installation stands deliberately clear of the walls (although lighting and taller showcases help it to meet its dramatic surroundings on equal terms) so that both can be read independently of one another.

What we have found is that it is essential to acknowledge the fact that museums can be alienating: can easily fail to do what they set out to do, which is to draw us in. The exhibition designer’s approach must allow for this. Let the visitors rush through if they want to. Provide places to be quiet and places to gather together. Give them opportunities to delve around for more information and share discoveries. The kind of interaction that the museum should pat itself on the back for enabling is an animated conversation between two excited visitors over one of its showcases.