How Museum-Grade Design Can Transform Dementia Care
If you have spent time in classrooms, clinics, or senior care, you know these environments ask a lot of people. Navigate noise, decode signs, make choices under stress. Museums face a similar challenge, and have decades of practice translating complex ideas into experiences that are engaging, beautiful, and humane. That is the craft my collaborators and I bring into dementia care.
As I have written before, the starting point is person-paced design. Attention can peak or wane in any exhibition. The same is true in memory care, though it is more high touch. In either context, there are no penalties for pausing or repeating. Everyone gets time to arrive.
Providing appropriate content, paired multisensory cues and gentle prompts, makes the path consistent and manageable: Arrive → Orient → Engage. Staff recognize it quickly. Participants can recognize it as instinctively as their abilities allow.
I pay close attention to the threshold. Before a single button press, social engagement and the environment communicate orientation and welcome. “You belong here” is not a sign on the wall, it is a feeling created from light, sound, posture, eye contact, and a clear first step, whether with a participant and family member or alongside a staff member.
When I use novelty (for example, a quiet rumble underfoot while someone drives), I design for surprising, not startling. Familiar forms with a twist are enough to spark attention. The goal is to invite, not overwhelm, and to balance sensation so people can stay oriented in a way that is possible for them and improves their state of mind.
Play with purpose changes outcomes. Low-stakes, joyful exploration creates room for agency and small wins. This is not gamification. It is permission to try, notice, and try again.
Most experiences are built for togetherness. Prompts nudge turn-taking and shared focus so dyads (the person and care partner) can find a rhythm. Staff tell me that even a few calm minutes together can make the rest of the day smoother.
Here is where I want to be explicit about the role of life enrichment staff. At the pilot site for the Experience Station, the team is trained in art and drama therapies. They were not just facilitators, they were co-authors. They treat each participant as the protagonist. They demonstrate and mirror. They use light role-play in the interactive and in their own body language. They are highly attuned to state and orientation in the moment, and they work with the resident to pick a path, set a pace, and decide what matters right now. Watching them, I learned dozens of micro moves that no interface can replace: a hand resting on the back of a chair to anchor balance, a shared breath before a choice, the way a simple “shall we” can unlock agency without pressure.
To that end, any form of agency is dignifying.
The Experience Station pilot is rooted in the real. Local voices and everyday objects ground the content in place, which increases the chance of recognition and relation. The result is a practical blend: exhibition craft and clinical common sense. Hardware that rolls into a room and works.
If you are a clinician, caregiver, museum professional, or researcher exploring dementia-friendly practice, we would love to collaborate. We are currently seeking European host sites for short residency or pilot projects. You provide the venue and on-the-ground partners, with travel and lodging support. We bring the Experience Station program, training, and an evaluation plan. Together, we can iterate on site until it is reliable and impactful.
