Convergence Promotes Divergence and Defeat from Museum Staff

The 1,000-piece Jackson Pollack puzzle

Curators, registrars, preparators, communicators ­– all facets of museum operations must face failure, or the anxious threat of failure, at some point or another. Rarely, however, is a cataclysm so total as to affect and endanger the well being of every department. Tuesday, however, the first ripples foretelling a tidal wave rang through the museum offices, when Shawnya Harris declared what can only be the beginnings of disastrous surrender.

 “I’m putting this puzzle away,” she declared from the edge of the conference table in the middle of the workroom. An intern, startled from their work at the station nearby, ripped out their ear buds. Shawnya addressed them more resolutely, “I’m tired of this. This thing is driving me crazy.”

“This thing” is a partially complete 1,000-piece puzzle of Jackson Pollock’s 1952 painting Convergence. Though the collective museum staff usually makes short work of similarly sized puzzles during breaks and lunches, this particular tiger trap has lain in mocking defiance of progress for weeks.

The intern, sympathetic to Shawnya’s sentiments and having experienced firsthand the relief the small manual game brought amongst hours of conceptual, literary, logistical rigmarole, nodded and turned towards the puzzle in their swivel chair. “I don’t blame you. I mean, raccoons chew off their arms to get out of traps, I guess you have the right to do this.”

Shawnya, spirits lifted, accepted this was true, but made the amendment that she would not, in fact, put the entire puzzle away, just what had yet to be assembled in any form. Even so, she was afraid of those members of the staff who might misunderstand her actions.

“I can just hear everyone going crazy,” she said, shoveling loose pieces back into the box nevertheless. “‘Where did all the pieces go?!’”

Such an impression is not an exaggeration. One particular chief preparator, Todd Rivers, has a specific – and usually quite successful – method wherein he arranges loose pieces by shape, rather than color or shade, in order to expedite assembly. This method had been adopted as a matter of course by the time Convergence ruptured all conventions. Unfortunately, even this ingenuity would seem to have fallen before the monstrosity that is a 1,000-piece puzzle made from the hyper-repetitious drip technique of an abstract expressionist.

As of yet, the sting of Shawnya’s decision is still fresh. Assistant Editor Taylor Lear, shaking the box ominously upon discovery, let only a single glum word, “troublemaker,” escape her. 

Other staff members remain blissfully unaware of the consequences that their uncompromising position has forced. Others are disappointed; yet they admit the wisdom of the psychological defense deployed, even if the call was made without consultation. Overall, it is better for the health of the team in the long run, which some believe will be both seen and felt once there is some distance from the matter. Museums, of course, must think about both the past and the future, and never dwell too long on what they wish could have been.

One intern in particular had few feelings on the matter beyond the hope that the puzzle would be entirely given up on and replaced soon, as staff members have been visiting the workroom less frequently lately and the intern misses the comfort of having real people close by, as well as the little joy of having conversations to listen in on while they pretend to listen to music.

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Penske McCormack

Intern, Department of Communications