Notes from an exhibition - The preparation

 

First, a reconnaissance tour of the venue. Then came the measurements and sketches, numbers and shapes. Two triple display units with drawers, seven vertical units with four shelves each, five cubes, and two large tables with glass tops. Lengths, widths, and heights. Imposing limits for the games to be displayed, or, more appropriately, parts of games. Yes, because some games require a lot of space to be seen in their entirety, or to be played; others even develop in three dimensions.

The process evolved intertwined: the arrangement of the displays within the exhibition room, the themes for the modules, the choice of games, and the configuration of each game. Each part influences the others. Blueprints were drawn on the computer, represented on cardboard over the table, and mapped on the floor. Boxes were opened, and components scrutinized. Games were assembled and disassembled, their presence in the exhibition room imagined. Photographing alternatives for selection and to guide the on-site assembly. A construction site at home.

Themes and games. The games leave the flatland! Words and cards, raw material for games. Timeless strategy classics. Boardgames intersecting literature, cinema, and digital games. Agents of change. Books and miniatures. Oil, CO2, and knowledge. The development of a game. What game am I? Cloud of words.

Then, I had to think of several other elements: a slide show to support the opening and to be viewed by visitors, informative texts, posters and leaflets, content for web pages, and a list of insurance purposes. Fortunately, I could rely on Margarida's expertise to make up for my lack of experience in the field, and on the team from the University’s Library to produce materials and for the installation.

Not to be forgotten on the to-do list was the timely invitation to a North American game designer for a long-distance conversation and the preparation required as a facilitator, revisiting games, former interviews, and texts. 

Time was running out, but the exhibition was taking shape!

Notes from an exhibition - The concept

 

Eighteen months had passed since the invitation, amidst those strange times of intermittent relationship with the pandemic. The conditions were finally in place to resume the project. The exhibition remained part of the American Corner initiatives held by the Library of the University of Aveiro, but now with an increased dimension: the Hélène Beauvoir room as a larger and more accessible venue; additional displays with different sizes, meaning more games; and the possibility of having a long-distance conversation with an American guest. An added challenge!

It was, therefore, time to work on the exhibition concept. My eyes roamed the shelves. Boxes of different colours and shapes. Some are brighter, whereas others show marks of age and use. Games from the current year, games a few years old, and older games. Evoking memories of distant analogue gaming times, long before digital arrived. After all, I am a creature from the 2BC era: Before Catan, even Before the Computer. This starkly contrasts the discovery of board games well after video games, made by creatures born in the digital age.

And so, the motto was created! Gaming unplugged: five decades of board games. My board games, from a personal perspective, rather than games intended to portray this industry, that releases new games at astonishing speed. The aim is to show different types of games, their relationship with their own time, and the diversity of themes, processes, components, and materials. With a wink to the process of creating games. Organised in modules to guide visitors across the space. With summarised information, enough for a first contact. With a hint of interactivity.

Next step: Defining and organising the modules.

Notes from an exhibition – The invitation

 

Games do not usually leave the house, except for family gatherings, holiday trips or a few days here and there. It is true that a few, such as the travel backgammon, some decks of cards and poker dice, have travelled thousands of kilometres on planes, trains, cars and bicycles. Some have even visited places of inspiration for their creation, such as Glen More's pieces that have been to Loch Ness and other places in Scotland. However, generally speaking, they only know the route between the shelves where they lay and the tables where they are played, not getting to know that many people.

That was so until the day when, during one of our conversations, Margarida Almeida asked me, ‘Do you want to organise an exhibition of board games?’. My first reaction was of surprise. I had never looked at my games as a collection, let alone a collection to be displayed and with interest to others. They were just games, to be used in several ways. Well, come to think of it, there was indeed something of a collector's approach, with games being bought with the full knowledge that they would not be played much. They were purchased primarily for the theme, the processes, the complexity, or the art. However, these were one-off decisions devoid of a specific overarching purpose. 

The initial surprise was shortly followed by a series of questions, a sign that the challenge had been accepted. How can you conceive an exhibition starting from zero experience? For which target audience? With what main theme and possible ramifications? Allowing for which degree of interaction? How is the space to be managed? How do we organise the individual displays, and how do we set up the games? What will be needed in terms of support materials and information? There were more questions than answers, but I knew I could count on Margarida's experience and creativity! 

At the same time, however, dark shadows were looming over the world. Shadows that approached from afar, transforming any sense of normality as they passed through. And they inevitably arrived, consigning the life that resisted them to a confinement that extended, in an indefinite suspension, into an unreal reality. The year was two thousand twenty, and the pandemic had arrived. All that remained was to wait for a future.