Haptics in the Museum
Bryan Joel Mariano
It says “do not sit”
so you wiped it out with your hands instead.
Knocked on its surface,
tested its density and hollowness,
curious what it’s made of.
It says “do not lean”
so you touched it with your fingertips instead.
As if to lean is just a function of the torso
and you cannot lean with your finger on the wall.
It does not say “do not touch”
yet you still did not touch.
Wary of the previous warnings,
passing through friction and tension.
Touching whatever your hands could reach,
lured with curiosity and fueled by temptation.
Immune with this kind of tactility,
transgressing the liminality between desire and action.
I turned the gaze to the shiny metal handle,
magnetized.
What’s stored inside?
I wrapped my hands around the metal rail,
cautiously
looking at my protruded veins
branching out like rhizome.
I pulled out the drawer.
The coldness of the handle was consumed,
parenthetically levelled with the heat of my eagerness.
Gently, I slid toward my body.
What’s in it that is preserved?
The manifestation of something present
suddenly became an expression of the past.
The affective feedback loop of deep time
has triggered my sensuous corporeality
to experience a haptic space.
And then there you are.
You used your hands to pull,
your toes to push,
your side hips to thrust
the same materiality I seized.
You frolicked.
Rhythmically moved your body and danced through
a nearly five-decade bryophyte species,
preserved and contained in a glass and wooden receptacle.
What’s in it that is not yet being revealed?
The Science
The poem is inspired by sensory studies that expand from cognitive science to museum research. Contemporary museums have incorporated various digital and technological interfaces that affect how people experience museum galleries, artefacts, and dioramas. Studying haptics, as the science of obtaining information and understanding through touch, opens up opportunities to interpret and understand the complex interaction of mind, body, and built environment. The poem tries to capture the diversity of objects of touch as well as different forms of tactility happening in a museum.
The Poet
Bryan Joel Mariano is the Knowledge Management Specialist of Forest Foundation Philippines. He is a development and science communication practitioner who has been working in the forest conservation sector since 2015. With great admiration for landscapes and keen interest in understanding human-nature relations, he enjoys hiking, walking, and reading books about the environment.
Next poem: Hendy Woods by Bradley Earle Hoge