Translator: Ekaterina Ivanova Reviewer: Camille Martínez
Several years ago, my two and a half year-old child
presented me with two museums made from LEGOs,
saying, “Mom, that’s so easy. Why do you work so much?”
Actually, you don't have to possess any special talents or skills
to design a museum or undertake any other project.
But there is one key aspect you have to remember
when you become involved in a long-term process.
It’s vital to agree on the non-negotiables -
very simple and intelligible principles
which will be neither reconsidered nor broken.
Here's what happens when they're broken.
[Where does compromise get us?]
During childhood, we're usually told not to quarrel, to compromise,
to try to find solutions and be compliant, etc.
But if you decide to build a museum or a house
or to implement any big project,
that mindset will not only hinder progress,
but it could also do a lot of harm.
Here you can see what happened with the Polytechnic Museum building,
from the moment it was designed, until its completion 140 years ago.
It’s neither good nor bad.
But when you conceive a plan, it must comply with some basic principles
in order for it to be achieved.
Our principles are the following:
We will create a museum for people.
We will try to make the best museum in the world, as vain as that may sound.
We will do things according to the law,
and not just the way "Everybody does it."
We will keep our promises.
We will use common sense.
What is a museum for people?
Strictly speaking,
the main activity of a state museum is retaining its designated funding.
That’s it.
So you'll often see that a museum that's closed for renovations
or in the process of new construction, basically ceases to exist.
People forget about it.
Or they remember and are waiting for it to open, but it doesn't.
We decided that we'd do everything with our audience in mind,
so even after closing, we started doing much more than before.
We brought strange plastic animals
to VDNKh - Exhibition of Achievements of the People's Economy.
We've organized lots of exhibitions and lectures.
We launched an open-air festival and a science film festival.
We work with and teach children as well as adults.
We do a large number of projects of various types,
which you can find on display at 30 different locations in Moscow,
as well as outside of Moscow.
And actually, it’s tempting to do nothing beyond working on preparations
for the museum opening in 2017.
But we strongly believe that the goal for a museum for the people
should be to always create something interesting and informative.
A museum is not only the walls,
but also the knowledge you bring to the audience.
A museum is not a warehouse.
That’s why we’ve opened our storage to the public,
so now every visitor can see what the museum’s collection consists of,
which is generally not done.
Since we closed for construction, our number of visitors has tripled.
I hope it will continue to grow between now and the opening.
What does “the best in the world” mean?
When you start something big, it’s reasonable to aim to be the best.
Then things move along and lots of unforeseen circumstances arise,
and you think, "This is hard. This is impossible.
Why don't we aim for the top ten?
Or the best in country?
Best in the city?
That's good enough.”
It shouldn't be that way.
Because you should accomplish everything you set out to do.
We held an international competition,
and got the top museum agency in the world as a contractor.
We collaborated with them for two and a half years,
with disappointing results.
It was an attractive but fairly mediocre design.
In light of that,
we decided to risk it and start afresh.
Now dozens of scientists, writers, journalists, artists and designers
are collaborating on the future museum.
And if we take a look back in history,
we see that not a single well-known successful great museum in the world
wasn’t made by the art dealers.
The enthusiasts of different professions managed to do that.
Hopefully so will we.
[We do everything according to the law, not by the "rules."]
In Russia, "according to the law" means not bribing.
No bribes.
Don’t pay bribes even when you have a $7.5 billion contract,
or if the deadline is growing closer and you're running out of money.
Don’t pay bribes even if you’re asked for them openly.
And don’t fall under authority’s influence.
All of this is absolutely possible.
It's not easy, even for a state-run museum, but it is possible.
It’s also very important not to be caught red-handed,
because that way they'll have nothing on you.
Keeping promises may seem simplistic, but it's really important.
In our environment, breaking promises is not acceptable.
What if the circumstances have changed and we may not fulfill our promise?
At present, ours is the only project of its kind that keeps a foreign architect
as a project-holder who is still working --
the fine Japanese architect who won the competition with his project
two and a half years ago.
This project will improve our city immensely
and create a true architectural masterpiece.
But believe it or not,
almost every week, I think about breaking his contract.
It’s really hard: he doesn’t speak English, doesn’t know our rules,
and comes up with things that are impossible to build.
But if we want to honor our own principles,
we have to work with him, even if it’s difficult.
Common sense.
Common sense is also not that simple.
For instance, our final story is about ramps for disabled people.
Now, while the museum is under repair,
we're working out some of the details.
It turned out that in order to comply with the strict guidelines
for ramps in public places,
we had to make them in such a way
that no disabled person would actually be able to enter or exit the building,
because the ramps lead to individual rooms,
not to the building in general.
Once a person in a wheelchair is inside,
there's no way for them to exit the building.
What we have to do now to prove that we’re not idiots,
is to draw signs with arrows,
showing how a wheelchair user can navigate the museum.
For three months,
we've been trying to come up with a solution to this,
one which will work in all the various scenarios.
But this is the way things work.
For example,
the requirements for the museum’s depository
are no less stringent than those that protect the Mona Lisa.
Or where to hold the children’s classes.
It was prohibited to have them in the basement or on the third floor.
Apparently, children can only be on the first and second floors.
They can’t go downstairs and they certainly can’t go upstairs.
And so on.
You have to remember that common sense is vital,
and that sometimes you have to fight
if you really want to see realistic and appropriate results.
So accepting that principle means living according to it.
That’s why sometimes I feel like a person in a wheelchair,
spinning between those ramps and trying to exit the building.
But why do I care?
Imagine that you walk up to a door, open it,
and the doorknob comes off in your hand.
How many of you will immediately take a screwdriver and try to fix it?
Honestly, how many?
I see one... two... three people.
Well, of course, the door is not yours, and neither is the doorknob.
But even if they were yours,
you're on your way somewhere and can't stop to fix the door.
Later, you'll call the repair guy to fix it.
Me? I’ll just grab a screwdriver.
I don’t need any particular motivation.
To do this, all you need is to want to make the world a little better,
and remain forever like a child, for whom everything seems simple.
And generally speaking, our lives do consist of door handles.
And if each of us fixes at least one or two,
our lives will be much better.
Thank you.
(Applause)