Museum of US: A zoom cabinet of curiosities
From books, tools, and dishes to heirlooms, photographs, and toys, our things tell our stories. On June 11, 2021 I invited you to share your story via the things you own. We did this together in partnership with the Art Institute of Chicago as part of their virtual workshop series. The event was a heartfelt opportunity for people from all over the world to connect with each other by sharing stories about their lives through their things.
This site is an archive of the screenshots from the zoom-based, cabinet of curiosities featuring your things and their stories. You are invited to scroll through this cabinet, seeing and reading all the contributions. This Museum of Us is open to new contributions. If you wish to participate please contact us at this link, sending an image of your object on a plinth/pedestal made of objects in your home (e.g. books, boxes, etc.) along with the title of your object, a date of origin or acquisition, and a tagline about what "collection" the object belongs to (see examples below).
rock from the valley where david slew goliath (2017), from the collection of emily matthews
This was retrieved when I visited Israel in 2017, I’ve been to Israel 2x. I was so taken by how real the story became by being able to walk in it. I met amazing people on that trip and will never forget it. I hope to return and right now, all the rocks I retrieved are with my grandmother and when she passes, I plan to return them.
The Rose (1981/2017), From the collection of cala coats
When I was young, I would often spend the night at my grandmother’s house, and we would stay up late watching movies. We particularly loved “The Rose” with Bette Midler, and its title song by her. Decades later, she was so happy when I named my daughter, Rose. When Gran passed unexpectedly in 2017, I found this set of notebook papers on top of the things in her bedside table. It is the lyrics to The Rose, clearly written from memory in her unmistakable handwriting.
mineral samples from the mcmurdo dry valleys, antarctica (undated), from the collection of trish suchy
One does not take anything from Antarctica. But this was an accident. I hated the regulation Extreme Cold Wear bunny boots—they accentuated everything about me that is clumsy. so I learned to wear them as required for the help flights, then change into my hiking boots when we landed. The bunny boots spent all day in the help cargo net outside the cab, a full day of hopscotching up and down the most incredible landscape on earth, and when we got back to base I discovered that the help blades had whipped up the ground and deposited some of it in my bunny boots. This sample is part of a microclimate unique in Antarctica, where the glaciers stop and there is no snow or ice cover, only earth that has been undisturbed for millions of years.
A crystal shard (2020), from the collection of an
From a square vessel that I used to hold a fat candle which I lit often during the 197 classes and workshops I took during the pandemic sheltering. When it was low one time, I lit a long wooden match and stuck it in the soft wax and enjoyed the big flame that flared up for a moment, and which then cracked the glass. It is, to me, the perfect shard from the corner, so now it can stand and looks like a Chinese mountain. I love it more than the original vessel. It’s like a phoenix that emerges from a disaster…like the one I’m living through.
stuffed dog from philadelphia PA (1973), from the collection of elizabeth johnson
I purchased this stuffed dog as a gift for my mother's birthday. It was the first gift I had ever bought with my own money. For the next 45 years it sat on my mother's bedside table and after she passed I added the flower lei to say aloha. It is a tribute to the love between mother and daughter.
Digital Stone (undated), from the collection of mike hazard
I love to find things that look like something else.
I have collections of faces I call Media Mike’s Mask Museum; and animals that I call Media Mike’s Menagerie. This interest in biomorphic abstraction is noted in my first journal when I was ten.
Friends sometimes see things they know I will enjoy.
Sometimes they give me these objects.
I keep this object, given to me by my friend Phil Mykland, on my Time Machine where I can see it whenever I am sitting at my desk.
It is a stone which Phil found that has a 0 and a 1 on it.
It is a digital stone.
Phil is a digital maestro. The stone reminds that we can find whatever we seek.
Seek and we shall find.
my accordion (1951), from the collection of carole krucoff
Bought for me when I was 11 by my parents, wanted to play the piano but couldn’t afford it so a accordion was next best. It’s been part of my life since then, learned, practiced as a child but most important as an adult when I could play songs for all to sing at Passover seders, when I could play happy birthday for my kids and husband’s 80th, but most especially when I had a hand injury, never thought I’d play again but trying to do so was the therapy I needed, so now I can play again, even tho I’m not a very good musician!
The perfect buddha (1957), from the collection of tara
This bust of Buddha was the first gift my father gave to my mother when they were dating. They weren’t Buddhists, but my mother liked Asian art. A few years later they were married, and a few years later I came along. So this Buddha was there to witness the beginning of it all. It’s funny that such a serene figure watched over such a stormy marriage for so many decades, and has endured now that they are long gone. There are many bigger and fancier Buddha statues in the world, but this will always be the most perfect Buddha to me.
beliefs, mock up (2018), work created for augsburg university, Minneapolis
I made this as an exploration of text, type and pairs of ideas or words for the skyway I was asked to design. I speak through design, language, and materials, and questions. Which beliefs do you have that are not confirmed?
a cup, or an anchor (2015), from the collection of catalina Hernandez
Donated by my baby sister, Maria. This object, which looks like a little mini-mug, was sent by the donor, Maria, sister of Catalina (who owns the piece now), as a continued effort to stay together, feel the other-one close despite time-space. It was sent during the first year that Maria and Catalina left their home town to make their own lives in a different country, at different cities. This object is a reminder that closeness and support hold us together through migration, distance, time.
gardening tools (2021), from the collection of cam Mccomb
These tools are a collection of implements, some purchased, and some gifted to me. My grandparents tended the soil. Georgia grew a victory garden and James tended flowers. My parents passed these traditions on to me. I see gardening as a metaphor for the growing of ideas. Plants, like ideas, need careful placement, support, pruning, and when attacked by disease they require eradication of the dead and dying parts. Once all strategies are tried... the idea will either flourish or need to be moved to a new location.
may girl [josef originals] (1970), from the collection of marion betor baumgarten
My parents bought this for me in 1970 on a visit to Cypress Gardens in Florida. I thought it was very sophisticated. Now, over 50 years later, not so much- but I still see the little girl who was so excited to have something "grown-up"
shawl from pakistan (2019), from the collection of mian sajjad
I brought a hand-stitched shawl that I got when I visited my home country, Pakistan, for the first time. This artifact is important to me because of the time I spent with my family in my home country. I got to learn a lot more about my roots and the journey my parents went through when they were living there. It was also very cold where we were, so we went to the shawl shop and found some traditional shawls that could help keep us warm. When I look at it, I remember the trips we had in Pakistan, the weather, and the local monkeys that would steal our food.
sensitive (2020), from the collection of christa donner
The sensitive plant, mimosa pudica, folds its leaves at the slightest touch. The first time I saw one was in a laboratory greenhouse. When I lived in Singapore last year, they grew by the roadside as a common weed, retracting when humans and other animals got too close. This one entered my collection in Chicago when I was missing that place and interaction. It must be kept in the sun and misted to keep it alive.
connie (1985), from the collection of naomi bennett
Connie was purchased at a zoo gift shop during an extended road trip down the East Coast of the United States. To her parent’s surprise, Bennett chose Connie out of all the other stuffed animals even though she had just had several litters of kittens eaten by raccoons. Connie has been a trusted stuffed companion and bedfellow for many years, and now has a place of honor on Bennett’s dresser.
Maureen’s Wedding Ring (1968), From the collection of Frances Bossom
This object came from my parent's house in Street, Somerset, UK. Maureen is my mum and this is her wedding ring. She is currently living in a Dementia Care Home and stopped wearing the ring before she moved there in 2019. The ring sits in a jewellery box embossed with the name of the Jeweller in the neighbouring City of Wells. It is an object she wore constantly and was chosen by Dad.
longfellow’s poems II (1899), From the collection of elizabeth garcia
This book belonged to my maternal grandfather, who was also a poetry lover. It was published in Philadelphia in 1899. When my house burned down 3 years ago, it is one of the very few books that survived. I love the language and imagery in Longfellow' work and the connection to my grandfather who passed away in 1999.
Brass Bell (1955), From the collection of cheryl Sachnoff
This tiny bell is in the shape of Little Red Riding Hood. When I was a child it served as a Mommy Summoner when I would be sick in bed and in need of something. My daughter used the bell for the same purpose when she was a child. Today’s children would probably use cell phones.
2k21 ; 9a bloomin miracles (2021), from the collection of leslie cooper
Narrative is being transcribed and is forthcoming.
Felt Rock (2017), From the collection of jessica pigza
I have a small collection of rocks (important to me although I too feel continuing guilt at the thefts) that I have collected over my whole life. My love for these rocks and my practice of hand sewing led me to create a series of soft rock-like objects of felt (filled with rice), with embellishments not found in nature. I gave all these felt rocks to friends as gifts, but kept this one for my personal collection.
my covid journal (2020), from the collection of shannon mcclure
The object itself came from amazon. The information and thoughts came from me. This is an important part of my life, and I hope it is eventually shared with future generations. It is a daily account of COVID times through my eyes as a Human Resources Director for a large multi state restaurant chain. It shows differences in state laws, lives of my employees and personal experiences from March of 2020 until now - it is a work in progress.
Save me!!!!!! (2019), from the collection of meryl dann
Stoneware cone 6. This piece emerged. It was not preplanned. First came the shape. Then came the colors. Then came the application. Dipping and brushes were used. When it emerged it reflected what I had been thinking of lately---about the disappearance of the glaciers. there on my piece was water, glacier and the line between. HOWEVER if YOU LOOK CLOSER YOU SEE ONE POLAR bear ON THE DIMISHING ICE AND THE OTHER UNDER WATER, THE SADNESS AND HOPLESSNESS IS VISIBLE IN THE IN THE ONE ON THE ICE
baby bread board (2021), from the collection of dru
a 4 3/4” x 6 1/2” cutting board make from discarded red and white oak. avocado’s, apples and other small delicates are welcome here. born in the artists basement woodshop, woodlawn, chicago
cyborg upgrade (2021), from the collection of l.m.gratch
In 2011, after at least a decade of poor hearing, I learned that I was indeed impaired by what I feared, and had been informed of by family and friends for years (generally following my own constant verbal repetition of, “What?”). I had severe mid- to high-frequency hearing loss. I had the “hearing of a 70-year-old,” according to the ENT, at an age than was significantly younger than 70. For this, I acquired hearing aids, not covered by insurance, for $5000. They lasted a decade. In fact, they still work. Over the last few years, I’ve found myself increasingly turning the volume up (the only function, aside from better hearing). In 2021, I got a new pair (partially covered by insurance), which allows me to cyborg in ways I never dreamed possible.
(Text on platform by Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, “Object of Ethnography,” 1998.)
santa muerte tarot cards (2021), from the collection of jennifer mira
These cards were gifted to me by a high school friend (25+ years). She felt the need to send these to me without knowing that I have have a collection of Día de Muertos skulls. The artwork on these cards are beautiful. These cards have full circle meaning to our 25+ year friendship.
in memoriam of…(2020), from the collection of angela inez baldus
In the fall of 2020 my friend Fleurie Hunter gifted me this schlumbergera that previously lived in the home of her grandmother who died shortly after Fleurie and I met. In memoriam of… came in the painted ceramic pot that it is currently still living in. In memoriam of…has bloomed once since arriving in this collection. In memoriam of allows space to think with the way lives become known to us through where we are and who we encounter.
The Void (2021), From the collection of sue Uhlig
Artist Anne McDonald made this ring inspired by the void sculptures of Lee Bontecou. Bontecou’s exhibition at the MCA was among my favorite exhibitions of all time. I met Anne through mutual friends in Vermont, and she just happened to have a set of rings with her for sale, this one included.
desk globe (1972), from the collection of rosmary caluori
Purchased in 2019 in Derby Connecticut at a resale shop. Small Globes are very collectible and displayable. Many are dated but here are websites to help date them. This Globe was made by Scan-Globe A/S in Denmark. It is mid century modern design with a smoke colored Lucite base.
giant necklace from Northern Ireland (ancient), from the collection of margaret viboolsittiseri
This necklace was pilfered during a visit to the ancient basalt columns (also of Q-Bert Lore). I received 3 beans from a mysterious traveler during my pilgrimage. I tossed them into the ocean and from that mighty volcanic space popped a beanstalk to the sky. I climbed it, was imprisoned by giants and only escaped through a portal hidden by coded message inside the metal artifact. I am 40K years old, but believe this necklace harnesses special power to keep me young at heart. Shh.
Charlotte (c. late 1800s), from the collection of anna F. Brown
This doll is a combination of the original china head (glazed porcelain) and a replacement body and clothing from the 1990s. Its original owner was Charlotte Kirsh, and it was passed on to her niece Frances Breit in the 1920s, who named it after her aunt. In the 1990s, Frances’ daughter Anna Brown brought the original doll to a dollmaker and had the old body replaced, much to Frances’ delight. It wears a beaded necklace of unknown origin.
mug (always), from the collection of esther tolkoff
Narrative is currently being transcribed.
Auk [Svartfugi] Egg (2019), from the collection of the ostraff family
This is an egg from Iceland. The egg sits in a box with a red cushion on a shelf in my grandparents’ house. I like this egg because of the colors and the way it looks like paint is splattered on it. I also like that it has traveled very very far. The birds lay eggs in this shape so the eggs won’t roll off the cliff.
Rock From the Great Salt Lake (2018),From the collection of Jorge Lucero
I have had the good fortune of visiting the great salt lake in Utah twice in my life. Both times, I drove out there early in the morning before catching a flight home to Chicago. Both times I saw Robert Smithson’s Spiral Jetty in various levels of submergence. One time I took this rock, not from the Jetty itself, but from the shore of the great salt lake’s beach. I feel guilty about it frequently. Perhaps I’ll one day have a third chance to visit the site, where I’ll return this rock to its place of origin.
Initial images on this page by Sam Clapp and Catalina Hernandez-Cabal. If you see anything on this page that needs to be corrected, please contact us.