How to Skin a Museum and Take it Home, Digesting Institutions That Don’t Serve The Public Through The Lens of Taxidermy.
There are reasons taxidermizing people isn’t very popular.
Technical,
Ethical,
Moral,
and Legal Reasons.
Fur preserves better than skin, and there’s so much you can hide behind the fluff[1], stitches and discolored skin, tell-tale signs of a reconstructed body[2]. A body being used beyond its original purposes. It doesn’t mean people haven’t tried to do the same to each other, but an animal hide will always hold better shape and color than fragile human skin. Sometimes it’s still not clear who’s seen as human and who’s recognized as animal.
The renaissance knew how to hide behind it’s beauty, posed white bodies, naked or dressed in extravagant fabrics of questionable origins. But these hoarded pictured don’t hold that background information like contemporary art does. Its all she said he said, proposed histories of why and who and where, which all can be brushed assigned by certain people for the sake of aesthetics.
See for yourself, look at how good the painting looks on your phone!
How good they look on fridge magnets,
umbrellas,
posters,
coffee mugs,
t-shirts.
Small and big and grossly out of context,
boiled down to souvenirs.
“Who will gain notoriety and benefit from these images reentering the world in a new context, outside of the subcultures that created them?”[3]
Have you done Christmas shopping yet? Maybe pay closer attention in the gift shop then.
Modern art in a museum looks like a taxidermized human compared to a marbled figure is what I’m trying to saying. You may see the wrinkles and think about how your skin would look like affected by heavy chemicals. I think beyond not taxidermizing people because of aesthetics and newly discovered yet quickly deteriorating 21st morals, we don’t do it to avoid facing mortality. That’s just what I think. But they’ve also taxidermized an African warrior in the 18th century like he was an animal. That wasn’t done to face the white man’s mortality at all.
They put shoe polish on him for upkeep, to make him seem blacker than he was. When they finally returned him home, his shoe polished skin crumbled off his skull. They only what bones even managed to remain. [4]
Certain people taxidermy their pets. I can respect that. But is there a point in restructuring what we talk about and what we look at, just to keep the dead in a conversation that no longer needs to include them? I’m sure your dead cat won’t care if you make a decision that doesn’t include them. I’m sure you realize I’m not actually referring to dead pets.
You still seem uncomfortable talking about taxidermy pets? How so? Okay okay lets switch gears, I’m sure you’d appreciate a painting more.
I stand alone by the painting of Venus, falsely known as the birth of Venus, even though she is not depicted as being born, but that the wind has just brough her to the beach, after being born somewhere off the coast. It’s not the birth of Venus but her arrival.
When I stand in one spot long enough, the crowd around me swells like a river, but when I don’t look in the water, I start hearing. I follow groups of guides, friends pointing out different things to each other, and families reading out articles they found online. If I just keep standing the stream picks me up and caries me along. I go room to room following guided tours I did not pay for. How long can I tag along before they tell me to close my ears and not listen to the information I did not pay for? Or can they take pity on me and see that I’m all by myself?
If I stopped a group and said we could restructure how this whole thing works and turn it on its head, would they join me? [5]
Could I connive a whole museum to join me in collective play?
No
In cowardice I run away to familiar territory, an empty contemporary art museum. Where there’s play in the walls, but none in the space.
Is it so wrong to be Holding onto cameras tighter than each other?[6] To photograph the work more than you look at it?
Own everything you see. Take a picture for good measure. Collectively it feels strange not to.[7] Did you bring a knife? They take it away at the entrance anyways. Doesn’t matter, you can still grab the halls by the neck. Me and you, we can still preserve this museum the way we want to.
Imagine the marble’s pulse faltering under your palm, sweat collecting in the columns. Imagine it for me, because you could never photograph that feeling of ownership and dominance. You could never, because an institution already has.
Skinning it is a messy business. In reality, you cannot take an institution home because it will degut the soul of your house.
As they say, don’t mix work and pleasure.
As they say, do as I say, not as I do.
I take institutions home like they’re a one-night stand that won’t remember me, because they won’t. I won’t leave a lasting enough impact. Beautiful women whose time I’m wasting. Evil ones at that.
As they say don’t mix work and pleasure.
As they say do as I say, not as I do.
Afterword:
Quite frantically, I don’t know if this piece makes sense to anyone other than me. I’ve tried to condense and present in a metaphoric way my critiques of museums as institutions, and how easily the general public, especially those not as deep into the art world or it’s criticisms, follows the path that these institutions set out for us. That’s not to say I’m above it all. I write it while being desperately neck deep in it as well, enthralled and pretending not to be confused.
This train of thought was brought on by a trip to The Uffizi Gallery in Florence, being in a museum with beautiful art but physically feeling like I’m in an Ikea due to the large crowd, after which I went to Museu Novecento, a contemporary art museum, which was completely empty. This stark contrast made me upset and I started writing about why and how this phenomenon was happening, and this writing is my literary interpretation of that idea.
This term doing the Fluiding Together Sociology theory course I realized this confusion in theoretical texts is quite normal and widespread. A lot of critical theory is written in ways that is made completely inaccessible to those who don’t have at least a year of art theory below their belt. But this class has reinforced my belief that it doesn’t have to be this way, and we can write in ways that don’t reinforce the contemporary art bubble. We can make theory more accessible, and one way to do that would be through literary stories and poetry. And that’s the lens I’ve attempted to write through this piece.
References
Black, Hannah. "Go Outside ." Olufemi Workshop Readings (2025): 1.
Frank Westerman, external. The man stuffed and displayed like a wild animal. 16 September 2016. News Article . 10 December 2025.
Thirty years ago, Frank Westerman was shocked to find an African warrior's body on display in a Spanish museum. Here he tells the story of h
Goldberg, Ariel. "Ovulars." (2019): 1-2.
Winant, Carmen. "Togethering ." This text accompanies Togethering, a video work by Carmen Winant produced as a companion piece to her publication Notes on Fundamental Joy (2020): 1-2.
Yang, Briana. Thinking about colonial institutions through a framework of hoarding . 15 March 2025. 12 December 2025.
https://anthrosource.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/muan.70001
[1] Physical and verbal
[2] Body of knowledge that has been deconstructed and restitched together so much that its origins would no longer be accessible to those to whom the concept is new
[3] Ovulars, Ariel Goldberg
[4] Frank Westerman, The man stuffed and displayed like a wild animal
[5] Hannah Black Go Outside
[6] Ovulars, Ariel Goldberg
[7] Briana Yang, Thinking about colonial institutions through a framework of hoarding











