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9. “It’s Tough When You Have a Museum in a Mall”: How the Seaport (Almost) Succeeded
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201 “It’s Tough When You Have a Museum in a Mall” How the Seaport (Almost) Succeeded As conceived, the Seaport was pure Sixties. Its district—a “museum without walls”—offered an open-ended, personal experience; its decentralized exhibit spaces accorded with the era’s notion of self-discovery and disdain for conventional institutions. Small was beautiful. Personal was political. The museum, said the founders, “lives best if it is broken into manageable bits that can be encountered and entered into casually. Thus, we avoid putting the past away in a separate room, and we also avoid the sense of overwhelming collections that generate awe but little relevance to life today.” Whitney North Seymour Jr. had wanted a building with conventional exhibits, but Philip Yenawine, its program director in the mid-1970s, was “100% in favor” of a museum without walls and what critic Paul Goldberger called “a joyous jumble of exhibitions.” But by 1984 the Seaport had been whittled down to one gallery and a borrowed exhibit. Visitors asked, Where’s the museum? Not seeing one, they retreated to Rouse’s shops.1 In hiring Peter Neill, the board redefined the Seaport. Peter Aron faulted Stanford’s loosely structured organization and presentation. His concepts “did not build confidence in the donor community.” Since the Seaport had lost its identity and needed revenue, its new leaders decided to create an “all weather, all season facility” that was “behind a single turnstile.” On par with movie-ticket prices (then four dollars), the fee was expected to cover about 55 percent of the operating budget of $3.5 million. In A Museum like No Other: A Master Plan, 1985–1990, Neill reassured ship-minded supporters such as Jack Aron. “While this plan places heavy emphasis on exhibits and upland activity,” he stressed, “it does so only to create an institution with the credibility and financial stability that will allow it to provide necessary resources to sustain the ships. Above all, South Street Seaport is a maritime museum and the ships are both symbol and reality of the demands of our commitment.”2 202 “It’s Tough When You Have a Museum in a Mall” Where to locate the museum was the first question. Despite a consultant ’s warning about the Row’s inadequacy, Neill proposed using its vacant top three floors to create a twenty-five-thousand-square-foot exhibition space, whose main feature would be a permanent exhibit on the Port of New York. Peter Aron, whose family wealth was built on global trade, urged that it be “international in scope.” Based on a volunteer’s proposal, Neill also suggested restoring the Seamen’s (Fulton Ferry) Hotel, above Sloppy Louie’s, made famous by Joseph Mitchell. Because the upper floors of the Row had not been rehabilitated, his plan would be slow in coming. Neill created waves at the FFM by proposing to take over John Street for a children’s museum. In the spirit of Barnum’s American Museum, which operated from 1841 to 1865 a half mile away, the P. T. Barnum Children’s Center would, he said, “create a unique ambiance for participation, performance , games, and childhood fancy.” But he most wanted to match Barnum ’s twentyfold increase in gate receipts over two decades. Addressing the need for a visitors’ center, he also proposed building on Block 74E’s corner lot an International Maritime Heritage Center that would include temporary exhibits.3 The Times jumped in with “Not Yet a Nautical Museum,” an editorial cautioning that the Seaport’s success depended “on making South Street the thrilling, partly open-air nautical museum it should be.” At a time when transatlantic cooperation was a diplomatic priority, it politicized the Seaport’s focus on the port exhibit, suggesting that “the story of New York and the sea can be made sharply relevant to current problems.” The Times added, the Seaport needed “generous support.” Applauding Neill’s bold plan, Newsday went further. Calling the city shortsighted for contributing nothing to the Seaport’s budget, it said, “The city’s Department of Cultural Affairs should lead the way in funding the five-year expansion plan,” as that “would encourage foundations and the business community to follow suit.” This funding was a “must if these vessels—coveted in ports such as Boston, Philadelphia and Baltimore—are to remain in New York.”4 “The Biggest Street Fair in Its History”: The Statue of Liberty Centennial Neill’s timing was right in 1986 as New...